Sarah turns back to see Squirrel with a blank expression. “It’s there if you need it,” Sarah says, thumbing over her shoulder and walking back to her friend. Sarah hesitates when Squirrel’s eyes look back at her. “Squirrel?”

  Squirrel’s attention focuses on Sarah again, as if just noticing her. “Hmm? Did you say something?”

  Sarah narrows her eyes and clasps each of Squirrel’s arms. “Squirrel... Where did you go just now?”

  Squirrel looks over her shoulder, then around the room. “My lab?”

  Sarah looks her up and down. “What’s wrong with you, Marianna?”

  Squirrel smiles at Sarah’s use of her name, then shakes her head. “I’m sure it’s nothing. I’m probably just tired and should rest soon.”

  “Yeah,” Sarah replies, unconvinced. “Maybe... Will you be able to finish explaining my pistol modification?”

  “Of course,” Squirrel affirms, turning back to lift the lid on the metallic crate. A blue light glows along the lid’s seal but winks out when the seal is broken. “This should keep you stocked for a while,” she says, looking down in the crate while holding the lid aloft with both arms.

  Sarah doesn’t need to look over the lip to see it’s brimming with handgun ammo. “That’s great, but I’m not really going to carry that around.”

  Squirrel’s arms begin to quiver as she turns to look over shoulder, which strips her glasses from her face. She let’s go to grab her glasses and Jack immediately steps over to catch the lid as it descends.

  “Dang it, Jack,” Wolf complains. “The world could have gotten a lot less weird if you had just let nature run its course.”

  “She’s Sarah’s friend,” Jack replies, glaring.

  Squirrel dons her glasses, then finds Jack next to her and helping with the lid. “Well, aren’t you the sweetest,” Squirrel says, grinning and fixating on him.

  “So,” Sarah prompts. “You were about to tell me something about transporting this?”

  “Oh, right,” Squirrel says, absently releasing the lid. “This is your new magazine.”

  “Uh, come again.”

  Squirrel points to the underside of the lid, referencing several carved symbols. “I’ve been experimenting with the marks on your katana. I couldn’t figure out what symbol was doing what, so I just copied them all and did the same with the inside of your magazine well. But I do not know how it works, so don’t ask. It doesn’t seem very sciency. I don’t think my marks are doing anything new. I think it’s just expanding whatever’s going on with your katana.”

  Squirrel zones out as she purses her lips and presses her bent finger against her chin. “It has to be like magnetism,” she mumbles. “But it’s not a push or pull... that rules out time and gravity...”

  Sarah points to the crate. “So, this automatically goes in here?” she asks, pointing to her chamber.

  “It does,” Squirrel says with excited eyes. “You just pull the trigger there.” She abruptly raises her hands. “But not in here! I’ve already gotten in trouble for that again today.”

  Sarah shakes her head. Nope, she thinks. Not touching those hows or whys. “So, why was it glowing earlier?”

  “Because you can charge it. It’s mimicking the compression on your katana, but again, I don’t know why. You’ll get a more powerful shot depending on how long you hold the slide back and it will consume increasing amounts of ammo when you do. They seem to combine and change into some form of energy. You won’t be able to charge a shot again until you discharge the previous one.”

  “Well, how do I unload it?”

  Squirrel points to the lid of the crate. “It’s not loaded now, because I opened the crate.”

  “Ok, so I need to open the crate if I ever need to unload it. That seems like a con, but at least I don’t have to reload as often.” She grows distant as she mentally plays a combat scenario. “Overheating,” she says, meeting Squirrel’s eyes. “Is this thing going to melt down at some point?”

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Squirrel shakes her head. “You shouldn’t even get a glow out of it. I replaced the barrel and several of the components around the firing mechanism with a denser alloy. I tried to match the riffling to your old barrel, but you may see a slight shift in the trajectory. Oh, and I couldn’t do anything about the light for charged shots. Everything either obstructs the ability to aim or interferes with the slide.”

  Sarah hefts the pistol again. “That accounts for the extra weight,” she says, nodding. “This will do great, Marianna. Thank you.”

  “So, are we done with this?” Jack asks, referencing the lid he’s still holding.

  Squirrel turns back to Jack. “Oh,” she says, raising a finger before turning to walk away.

  Sarah watches her walk off, then nods to Jack. “Yeah. It appears we’re done with it. Thanks, Jack.”

  “You bet,” he says, lowering it back into place. A blue light traces around the groove once it’s in place.

  “Suck up,” Wolf says, moving closer to Jack.

  “There’s was no harm in helping, but there obviously would’ve been if I hadn’t.

  Squirrel stops in front of Jack and proffers a thermos in one hand and a small white box in the other.

  “No harm in helping, huh?” Wolf asks, grinning.

  Jack’s additional foot of height requires him to look down to meet Squirrel’s awaiting stare. “What’s this for?” he asks, looking at her hands.

  “It’s for you,” she says. “Obviously.”

  Jack hesitates but accepts them both, sliding the box into an outer bicep pocket, then removing the lid from the thermos. Steam and a pleasant smell of stew rises from the open container. Wolf’s eyes widen and he turns his nose up, his nostrils becoming animated as they flare repeatedly. Jack brings it up to his face, draws in breath, sighs, and nods.

  “Hey,” Wolf says, coming in contact with Jack’s arm and trying to look over his shoulder. “What you got there? Is that for me?”

  Jack turns his back to him and rotates the thermos into a defensive posture. “No, she gave it to me.”

  “Come on, man. Those beef sticks are getting old. Let me just have a taste.”

  “This is obviously something for grownups, so you’re not getting any until at least puberty.”

  Wolf withdraws. “Oh, that’s cold. I thought we were past the whole voice thing.”

  Jack shrugs. “We are... as long as we’re past the idea of me sharing.”

  Wolf narrows his eyes at Jack, who sets the thermos aside, opposite of Wolf. “I see how it is.”

  Wolf shakes his head as he moves away but double takes as he notices Squirrel with her eyes closed and puckering lips. He raises an eyebrow at her eager expression, then gives her a wide berth as he moves around her.

  Sarah is standing back behind Squirrel with crossed arms and a slight smile. She watches with a quiet appreciation, like a parent watching as their child succeeds at riding without training wheels for the first time. It’s not about their success, rather a focus on the child’s exultation for a specific accomplishment. So she watches to form a memory of a moment that she knows won’t come again.

  Wolf walks over to stand next to her, turning to face the same direction. “Is she always like this?” he asks, looking at Jack as he opens the small box.

  “I don’t know,” Sarah says with a shrug. “I’ve never brought a boy over before.”

  “I feel like this is some sort of trap.”

  “Oh, it’s a trap alright,” Sarah replies. “It’s just more of a spiritual demise than a physical one... wait, this isn’t leading to a ‘birds and the bees’ question, is it?”

  Wolf’s eyes grow large. “For crying out loud, I’m not a puppy!”

  Sarah scrutinizes him. “Uh huh. Psychopaths say they’re not psychopaths only because that’s what they want you to think. How do I know this isn’t the same thing?”

  “What? That’s not even remotely related,” he rebuts with upturned palms.

  Squirrel opens her eyes to see Jack has lifted the watch out of the box and is studying it. Her expression grows distant, and she brings her curled finger back up to her chin while supporting her elbow with the opposite palm. “It seems my calculations were off,” she mumbles to herself. “Too distracting. Maybe less shiny and more foo---” She tenses as she’s embraced, then relaxes when she recognizes his green-leathered jacket against her face. Her eyes close and she exhales.

  Squirrel feels a tussling at her bottom and starts to run her hand up the inside of his thigh. Jack pulls away abruptly, holding her at arm’s length.

  “Whoa,” he says, laughing nervously.

  Squirrel looks at him and tilts her head, confused.

  “Get your nose out of there!” Sarah says, wrestling with Wolf.

  Jack and Squirrel look around to see Sarah pulling Wolf back and trying to haul him away by the back of his harness. “Ugh,” Jack begins. “What’s happening?”

  “I had to check her out,” Wolf protests. “Jack wanted me to make sure she was legit and not trying to trick him.”

  “I what now?”

  “Yeah,” Wolf says, nodding. “Tell Sarah how you gave me the nod.”

  Sarah is still trying to hold Wolf back like a dog hopping against a leash’s outer boundary. “He was sticking his nose up Squirrel’s butt,” she manages.

  “Tell her about the nod, Jack. He did this,” Wolf says, dipping his eyebrows as he closes his eyes. “He was giving me the go-signal.”

  Jack chuckles and rubs the back of his head. “Sorry, bud. Any ‘go-signals’ were unintentional.”

  Wolf deflates, allowing Sarah to relax her grip. “Really?” Wolf asks, wounded. “I thought we were thinking the same thing there. That’s---yeah, that’s my bad.”

  Jack shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it, bud.” He looks back down at Squirrel as she’s repeatedly bringing the tips of her index fingers together.

  “So uh,” Squirrel says, looking at the meeting fingers. “I might have thought that was you.”

  “Oh,” Jack replies, his eyes growing wide with comprehension.