Dashing Devil Omnibus 2: Books 4-6, page 6
He sort of nuzzle-brushed the side of her head with his cheek, which he knew she liked.
“W-well,” Tinker’s emotions had scattered to the four winds—to the point that he doubted even she could identify what she was feeling.
Boyd was sure her face was beet-red in a burning blush, but at least that sense of failure had disappeared.
“I g-got close,” she stammered. “You wanted a hundred percent of your current pack’s thrust on each wing, but I only got it up to eighty percent.”
“That’s wonderful,” Boyd rumbled warmly, close to her ear. “And we’ll talk about it in a moment. First, I want you to confirm you understand that I might sometimes ask you to do things you can’t—and to acknowledge that it is your job to tell me when that happens. It doesn’t count as a failure if someone asks you to do the impossible, right?”
“I g-guess…”
Tinker’s tiny shoulders shrugged against his chest, but her face remained hidden from him. He sensed uncertainty more than anything on their Bond.
“But you do the impossible all the time, so I’m not sure the impossible is actually a thing. First Omega Ray, and now the Last Dragon…”
“I have my Black Flame, which allows me to nullify energy resistances,” Boyd explained. “That’s what made killing Omega Ray possible, and the same applies to the Last Dragon. Powers make different things possible for different people… but that doesn’t change what is possible for you.”
Boyd paused, frowning into Tinker’s right braid. “I don’t want to discourage you from pushing what is possible, though. I just don’t want you to feel disheartened when you find the limit of what you can do.”
“O-okay,” Tinker murmured. “Umm…”
She paused, but then a torrent of words spilled from her lips. “You’re not going to get mad if I still feel like a failure sometimes, are you? I know you’ll start sensing how I’m feeling more strongly soon, and I feel like a failure a lot. I’ll try not to, but I’m not sure it will work and I’m worried that you might get mad if I’m always filling your thoughts with my failures and it might throw you off at a critical moment or something.” She gasped for breath at the end of her almost continuous explanation of her concern.
Chuckling gently as she caught her breath, Boyd nuzzle-brushed Tinker’s head again. “Do I seem mad now?” he asked.
“N-no,” Tinker shook her head, “c-concerned and very affectionate, but not mad.”
“I won’t get mad later, either—especially since I’ll know the truth. Which is that you aren’t a failure,” he assured her. “You also don’t have to worry about distracting me in critical moments. The Bond fades into the background when I’m focused on other things.”
“Right,” she nodded, then sighed. “I knew that.”
“Mhmm,” Boyd confirmed.
Her emotions were returning to a more stable, less overwhelmed state, so he judged one last push would do—for now. “Besides, you’ve yet to fail to impress me with any of your inventions. I’m looking forward to seeing what you’ve come up with.”
He already expected that he would have to suggest some changes, mostly for better penetration after seeing the way the balls had performed. But first, he would be enthusiastically impressed with whatever she had managed to do so far.
“Well, I like giving good news first… so I’ll start with the weapons you asked for,” Tinker said.
She was still a little stiff in his lap, but Boyd expected her to relax as she entered work mode—her comfort zone. She waved her hands in a vague jazz hand fashion that summoned the holographic interface that had disappeared as soon as he’d scooped her from her stool.
When it reappeared, she tapped a button on it and the large display switched over to a detailed image of a javelin. It was capped with black obsidian but was otherwise made from shining steel. “I’ll start with these,” Tinker said.
She tapped another button, and the shining shaft of the javelin collapsed up into the black obsidian cap. A suited wireframe Boyd appeared before the remaining black spike mounted itself to one of the straps that crossed his chest.
“The javelins are ten inches long when collapsed, but eight feet long when extended. It uses high-density materials to add mass for better penetration and to make up for the durability lost by a collapsible design. They would be much too heavy for non-Powered users, coming in just over twenty pounds.”
Boyd grinned. He had raised his head and straightened his back to look up at the screen but tucked it back down to nudge Tinker’s head again.
“Um… did I do good?” she asked shyly. “I know it isn’t what you asked for, but after seeing the way the balls bounced off the Last Dragon’s scales, even charged with your Black Flame, I thought you would need something with more penetrating power.”
“Yes,” Boyd rumbled softly, nuzzling her head again, “they’re better than I could have hoped for.”
They truly were better than he’d thought was possible. He hadn’t been sure she could make a throwing spear to his preferred length, heavy enough to impact with the force it would need to, and yet still make them small enough to allow him to carry more than one through the flight maneuvers he would have to perform.
“Oh, good,” she murmured. “I was pretty sure you would like them.” She turned in his lap and looked up at Boyd, giving him a shy smile.
“Next is the wing hook,” she said. “You had me scratching my head about this one. I was like, ‘Why would he want a hand-scythe? They are such a silly weapon.’ At first, I thought it was for the psychological effect, but that didn’t really seem like you. Once I put together what it was for, and saw how closely the dimensions you came up with matched the estimates we have for the Last Dragon, I made a couple of changes.”
Tinker tapped a button on her holographic display and what was effectively a short-handled, sharply hooked scythe appeared. It was simple and unadorned, mostly shining steel with an obsidian inner edge.
“It seemed like you were aiming for a thicker segment of bone, so I changed the shape and size a little to optimize it for that purpose. I’m a little concerned about you being strong enough to use it to cut through bone, though. Even without its energy resistance, the Last Dragon is assumed to be incredibly strong.”
“I won’t need to be stronger than the dragon,” Boyd said, but then shook his head. “We’ll cover that later.”
“I assume it has something to do with the cable, but will be patient.” Tinker smiled when he nodded.
She was a little more relaxed. “I’m working on something like the little balls with more penetrating power, like you asked for. I’ve got the basic design down, but the computer is running simulations on the best configuration. I’ll hold off on showing you what I come up with until I’m sure of the design, but I promise it will outperform what you asked me for.”
“I’ll be patient.” Boyd nuzzled her head again. “I think that brings us to the sword, as far as the personal equipment I asked you for goes. Any concerns or issues with anything else?”
“No.” She shook her head. “I have some other ideas I’m testing out, but what you asked for won’t be a problem. I just have to size up an existing design for the sword. I thought of something else that will help if I can get it right. I want to get the design locked in before I present it. Give me four more hours and…”
“Four hours after you take a nap,” Boyd corrected her. “Is it for the ground phase or the air phase?”
“It will be deployable where or whenever you want it.” Tinker shrugged. “I’m just modifying a piece of equipment I already had planned for your general use that should compliment your Black Flame.”
She pulled back and looked up at him. “Do I really have to take a nap?” Tinker whined. “I feel fine.”
“Yes, you do,” Boyd rumbled. “Mindy would have said you were fine when I brought it up if that was the case. She’ll help you fall right to sleep and wake you up once you’ve rested enough to be good to keep working for another five or six hours.”
“Okay…” Tinker blew out a huge sigh.
Boyd gave her a gentle squeeze where his arm covered her middle. She leaned back into him for another moment before humming softly in contentment and saying, “I suppose that only leaves the thrusters.”
“You said you got up to eighty percent of the thrust provided from the main pack?” Boyd asked. “That’s impressive. What’s stopping you from getting the full one hundred? I don’t want them too big, but if it’s about size you can probably go bigger than what you have over there.” He gestured to the mannequin.
“It’s not size,” she said, shaking her head. “You said they only needed to last through short periods of use. That means I can make them fairly compact since the largest component is the battery.”
Tinker shook her head and tapped at her display until an animated diagram appeared. The vaguely C-shaped devices clamped down over a wireframe copy of the bone to either side of Boyd’s largest wing joint.
“This is the most secure way to attach a thruster directly to your wing,” Tinker said, but then she scowled. “Unfortunately, if we apply the same amount of thrust as the max output of your main pack… well…”
She tapped another button on the interface. The display showed the model of the device shiver on the wireframe simulation of his half-folded wing. After a moment, the shaking intensified, and then the device shot off the wing, leaving behind a furrow in the simulated wing bone as it went.
“It just isn’t secure enough to handle the forces involved. The pack on your lower back is supported across the harness you wear, so I went pretty heavy on the thrust.”
Boyd’s eyes stayed on the display as he pondered the problem. Unfortunately, he didn’t believe that he could perform the maneuvering he would need for his plan at only eighty percent power. He stared at the wireframe model of his wing, specifically at the bones damaged by the device as it had ripped away from his wing.
An idea came to him, but he knew Tinker was going to hate it.
Chapter 6
Boyd prepared himself for a potential argument with the self-mutilation adverse Tinker before voicing his idea.
“I’ve had an idea that might actually solve two issues…” He paused, frowning at the wing thrusters on the mannequin.
“I was going to ask if there was a way to mount it to the interior of my wing instead of the cap design. I like the look of it—don’t get me wrong—but I sometimes use my wings to defend against energy attacks and I’m worried about them being blasted or melted off.”
“Yeah,” Tinker sighed, “I thought about that, too. But clamping the thrusters to the inner bone is even less secure. I can only get up to about thirty-seven percent power with that design before it tears itself free.”
She buried her face in her hands and then bonked her head several times against Boyd’s chest, growling the whole time. Boyd gently tilted her chin until she was looking at him.
“It’s okay… we’ll figure it out together.”
Tinker blushed, then swallowed. After closing her eyes and taking a few deep breaths, she continued. “I was going to suggest it as an alternative for when subtlety matters more than thrust output.”
“That was a great idea,” Boyd rumbled happily, “and I totally would have gone for it, if I hadn’t had this idea. I don’t know if you’ll like it, but I think it will solve both problems.”
“Well, what is it?” Tinker sounded excited and Boyd felt that excitement across their Bond. It made her body tense up a little, but not in the same way that anxiety did.
She had a nice little butt, and Boyd had to remind himself that it was time to get work done. There was an imminent city-destroying dragon attack that should help keep him from being distracted by the effect the pleasant tension in her tush had on him—especially planted in his lap as it was. It was a shame she was about to deflate or tense up in a less pleasant way.
Boyd unfolded his right wing and brought it around for a visual aid. He brought the big joint down to where she could see it and pointed to the thickest of his membrane-supporting bones that split the biggest section of his wing nearest where his wings connected to his back.
“You see this one?” He asked as he pointed to it.
“Mhmm,” Tinker nodded.
“We’re going to mount it to that,” Boyd explained. “It’s perfect because I already line this joint up with the direction I want to go in. It will significantly lessen my learning curve if the thrust is applied along it.”
Tinker shook her head. “I just said that I can’t mount it to that bone. It isn’t secure enough. My design even uses gravitic clamps, and I don’t know of anything stronger for this purpose.”
The excitement that had been building on their Bond faltered, which was probably for the best. It would soften the crash.
“We won’t clamp it on, like you have it.” Boyd gave her another gentle squeeze to preemptively reassure her. “I bet you can get to the full one hundred percent if you mount it directly to the bone with a pin, or some screws, or something. Hell, fuse it on if you have to—whatever it takes.”
Boyd felt a vaguely ill feeling settle over Tinker as he finished his explanation. He knew it would be something she would take issue with, so he quickly continued before she had a chance to argue.
He gave her yet another gentle squeeze and rested his other arm down around her waist, turning the squeeze into a hug.
“Tinker, remember our conversation about pain? It’s different for me. I’m casually suggesting this because I don’t believe it will hurt—at least not much. And if it does, I’ll just lock it away.”
“But… no—I mean,” she began tentatively, then added in a rush, “didn’t Mindy say you were supposed to stop doing that outside of combat?”
“She did, and I’ll talk to her about this,” Boyd confirmed. “I got the impression she only meant much larger amounts of pain, but if she says I shouldn’t, then I won’t lock it away. I’ll just bear it myself.”
He straightened a bit, though he didn’t let go of Tinker. “In fact, let’s plan for that being the case. As you design it, try to keep the pain I’ll experience to a minimum—but keep in mind that the pain will be short-lived, in either case. You have to account for my healing factor.”
“I haven’t agreed to design this,” Tinker both sounded and felt a little sick across their Bond.
He’d known she would react poorly and felt bad even asking her to do this. But unless she could come up with something better, they would need to go with it.
“You will,” Boyd nuzzle-brushed the side of her head again and put a little purr in his voice, “because I need you too.”
“No fair,” Tinker whined.
He wouldn’t push too far, but Boyd wanted to lay on a little affection here. It wasn’t meant to manipulate, but to reassure. It was something of a balancing act.
“I know,” he admitted, “but our jobs aren’t always fair. I know I’m asking a lot from you, and I’m willing to work with you on it. If you can think of a better way, we’ll go with that. If not, I need you to design and make this for me. I’ll need as much time to train with them as I can get, so this is a first-best-idea situation.”
“I get that, but…”
“Would it work?” Boyd asked before his little genius could offer a moral argument.
Morals were great, but Boyd knew them to be changeable and subject to circumstance. He didn’t have the time to change her stance on the topic. He had to deal with the circumstances they’d been dealt, right now.
He felt her emotional turmoil over their still relatively weak Bond, but didn’t get enough details to identify individual emotions.
After a long sigh, she answered, “…most likely. Your bone density and composition should take the force if I connect it right. It might strain the joint, though, with all that pressure being forced upwards and directly into it.”
Tinker reached out her hand and traced her fingers over the joint in question. “It looks big and sturdy, but it is fairly intricate and there are a lot of nerves that pass through it. Using the thrusters won’t be comfortable, I’ll say that much. I’ll need to run some simulations to be sure it would even work.”
“I’m betting it will,” he said.
Boyd nodded against the side of her warm brown hair. The more numerous copper strands that appeared with her first Enhancement added an extra shimmer as they caught the bright lights of the lab.
“Laura just ran a scan of that section, too. Ask her for the updated data for your simulations. I’m going to continue planning assuming that this will work, so please make it a priority after you wake up from your nap.”
“I could…”
“No,” Boyd smiled and gave her another hug. “Nap first. Then simulations. I’ll leave the design to you. Aim for causing the least amount of pain possible to get the necessary secure connection. Don’t forget my healing factor will try to slowly push anything out, so permanent components aren’t likely to work.”
“Right,” Tinker groaned. “If I could just implant permanent pins a unit could later attach to while you were unconscious, this wouldn’t be so bad. If I do this, I think it’s going to pretty much going to have to be fusing or screws. I can have it drill out holes and then set pins, but that is just an extra step. For the sake of keeping the pain to a minimum, I think screws will work best.”
“Then go with screws,” Boyd agreed.
Fusing didn’t sound all that pleasant, and there was a possibility he’d have to experience the full amount of pain himself.
“But that means designing something that drives screws into your bones each time you equip it, probably a bunch of them.” Tinker shuddered and then groaned, feeling ill again across their Bond.
