Just Cause Universe 3: Day of the Destroyer by Ian Thomas Healy Page A

showed it to Gonsalvo, who’d delighted in the craftsmanship. Now he was beyond such primitive engineering; instead of springs, he used motors and hydraulics, electricity and combustion to power his creations. He turned the crank. The box squeaked and clattered, but still unfolded the way he’d designed it to. Surely, Gretchen would be impressed. Surely, she’d stick around to talk more with him. He set it in his bike basket and wheeled it back outside.
    The Con Ed man was down from the pole and rummaging through the back of his truck when Harlan came out of the shop. Gretchen was chatting with him about lunch of all things. Harlan’s stomach rumbled to remind him he was also due for a meal. As he had many times before, he pushed thoughts of food out of his head to focus on the task at hand. “This is my bike, Gretchen.” He raised his voice so she’d be sure to hear. “I built it myself. It has a lot of cool features.”
    “Does it? That’s nice, Harold.”
    “Harlan. I’m Harlan.”
    “I’m sorry.” Gretchen looked at the Con Ed man, who shrugged and said he needed probably another ten or fifteen minutes.
    “So do you want to see it?” pressed Harlan.
    “Sure, I’d love to see your bicycle,” said Gretchen.
    Harlan showed off the gyroscope that kept it balanced even at a standstill, and the electric generator and motor. It even had a headlight he’d salvaged from a Volkswagen Bug.
    “You don’t ride it at night, do you? Don’t you have to stay home and do homework or chores or spend time with your family?”
    Harlan shrugged. “Sometimes.”
    “Well, it’s a very lovely bicycle,” said Gretchen. “Thank you for showing it to me.”
    Harlan felt his ears burn. She was talking to him like he was a little kid, not a scientific genius! He’d show her something she couldn’t ignore. “Here, look at this.” He pushed the box into her hands.
    “What is it?” Marginal interest flared in her face as she looked at the tin box.
    “It’s a surprise.” Harlan gave her a shy smile. “Turn the crank.”
    Gretchen shrugged and began to turn it. A cheerful little tune emerged from the box. She jumped when it split open and the carousel unfolded. “Oh!”
    “Keep turning it,” urged Harlan. “There’s more.”
    Her bemusement turned to joy. The device clacked and whirred as hinges opened and rods moved into place. The tune changed once the carousel had completed unfolding. Gretchen’s eyes shone and she laughed as the carousel rotated with its tiny horses going up and down. The tune finished and the box folded itself back up once more. “You made this?” She sounded incredulous. “It’s wonderful!”
    Harlan felt like his heart might explode. He knew, deep down, Gretchen would fall in love with him and they’d get married and live together forever. “You can have it if you want.”
    “Oh no, I couldn’t. This is something really special.”
    “No, I want you to have it. I can always build another one. A better one, with motors and batteries.” Harlan already had a design in his tireless mind.
    Scattered applause sounded on the street as the power came back on. Harlan turned to see the Con Ed man walking back toward the truck and stripping off his gloves, a big grin plastered across his face. Harlan realized Gretchen was about to be taken away from him. He thought hard, desperate for something that he could say to keep her there with him.
    Then he had an idea.
     
    #
     
    “Tell you what,” said Tommy to Miranda. “Are you feeling a little like lunch? My treat.”
    “Oh, no. I couldn’t,” she protested. “I’ve wasted so much of your time already.”
    “You haven’t wasted any of my time,” said Tommy. “Besides, I get to take a lunch break. I’d love if you joined me.”
    “Well…” Miranda wavered.
    “I know a lovely little cafe in the Village. Outstanding sandwiches and fresh coffee.”
    Her last shreds of resistance blew away like so many scraps of paper in one of