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BarmyWaffle hands him the crossbow, “weapon clear.”
The look on his face demands an answer.
MaxChaos responds, “seen clear.”
“I’ve never used a crossbow. I wouldn’t know the difference between a normal one and an experimental one. What’s so special about this one?”
“Well first off, we’ll get Commander Crush to authorise some training for you. On a standard crossbow of course. Then we can discuss how to improve it. Then it’ll all make more sense to you.”
“In any case,” says BarmyWaffle, as he points to the flat plates connecting the limbs to the riser, “these are larger cantilever springs than normal. Usually they’re made of metal. Metal is good, but brass is too flexible and iron is too stiff. We’re looking for the Goldilocks’ solution. Something that’s just right. This prototype has a bone composite, we’re trying to make it easier to use, so that we can improve reloading.”
MaxChaos understands the pointing, and most of the parts, but he doesn’t understand all the words. He looks confused.
“Don’t worry about the terminology … don’t worry about the words … you’ll get used to it as you spend more time with us. Of course, I’m assuming that you’re going to be here every Wednesday afternoon for side project time?”
Finally, MaxChaos and BarmyWaffle have clicked.
The dock worker and the scientist have something in common. They’re both interested in crossbows, even if it’s for different reasons.
Forty years separate them, so BarmyWaffle is old enough to be his grandfather! BarmyWaffle also feels the need to say something else, and he feels that he’s in a position to say it. Taking a fatherly tone he changes the subject.
“Max, do you live in a shared house? All men?”
“Yeah I do. How did you know?”
“And the kitchen’s always a mess? And the bathroom’s always a mess? And you tend to avoid them?”
“Yeah, whatcha getting at?”
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