seriously doubted that she would be thanking him — quite the opposite , in fact. Before she could open her mouth to grill him, Buton and Rob swarmed over Jarod. Their enthusiasm nearly bowl ed him over.
“What are the stress point vectors?” Buton quizzed.
“What’s the backup protocol for internal power outage?” Rob jumped in on Buton’s heels.
In answer, Jarod threw down what looked like a roll of toilet paper. A roll of toilet paper that had been scribbled over.
“There ya go,” he said , acting as if that roll could answer all their questions and trepidation .
Cleo looked closer. It didn’t just look like a roll . I t was one.
“This is on toilet paper,” she said, completely dumbfounded.
This was beginning to feel like Boca. He’d been sent out for batteries and came back with a 10,000 - watt stereo system for the boat — 10,000 watt. If they hadn’t found that schooner with the silver serving set from the 1800 s…well they couldn’t have even afforded batteries.
“Let’s just say his copier was down,” Jarod said, brushing off Cleo’s comment. Then he gave her that devil-may-care grin of his. Second red flag. This would not end well.
Buton and Rob proceeded to devour the information on the tattered roll of bathroom tissue. Rob glanced up from his perusal to query, “Did you get our launch window, Uncle Jar e ?”
Jarod paused before answering. He infused his voice with what Cleo guessed was his attempt at humor. “You ’d better get your beauty sleep , because it’s tomorrow, first thing.”
The room erupted.
“What?” Buton questioned.
“You’re kidding,” Rob said, his voice ticking up an octave. “Right?”
“Are you insane ?” Cleo was somewhat pleased with her restraint on that last one.
Jarod seemed to take it all in stride. Cleo guessed that he had spent the whole ride back to the motel preparing himself for their reaction s . “Look, do you know how long I stood in line at the DMV just to get the ship’s registration straightened out?”
Cleo wasn’t about to let him get off that easily . “Do you have any idea how much time we need to be space-ready?”
Buton backed her up. “We have equipment checks. Procedural drills — ”
“I need to figure out a cool call sign!” Rob interrupted.
Jarod tossed down a newspaper that he had been holding under his arm. Buton scooped it up and began reading. “Prospectors Panic! Rumors run rampant that Moon R ushers only have until Friday’s p residential special briefing to claim their stake s before the moon is closed to new prospectors.”
Jarod spread his arms wide. “See?”
Cleo searched for someone to agree with her, but Buton and Rob were back to their toilet paper. She glared at Jarod, daring him to spill the rest. She was 100 percent positive that there was more to the story. “Anything else you want to share with me?”
Jarod put on a look that Cleo knew all too well. It was his how-could-you-possibly-doubt-me ? look. He only used it when he was hiding something truly serious. “It’s fine…Trust me.”
“ Trust me? This from the man who just came in with a roll of toilet paper? Really ?”
CHAPTER 5
Pecos, Texas
March 27, 2049
0748 hours, CST
Buton stepped into the middle of the junkyard launchpad with the rest of the Rogues and gazed upon the sight of their ticket to the moon. It was not a Kodak moment. The sun was shining, spreading beatific light over the hull of what might have vaguely resembled a craft capable of interstellar flight. The whole effect might have been better if it were overcast. Or raining. Or during a solar eclipse.
Logic dictated that , after climbing through the cab of a dilapidated pickup truck to arrive at their present location, surprise should not be the primary response. However, Buton was unprepared for the sight that assaulted him at this moment. After several long moments of silence punctuated by the possibly rabid canines populating the yard,