Chapter 1.2.6 — Swapping Mods

Venture brought out two more modifications. The first was a thin metal box a little under a foot long and the second was a short cylinder. Emmett recognized them immediately as the impact shield and the concealable pistol. Venture set them on the table, and Emmett tried to hide his unease at the sight of the gun.

“So, what are we starting with?” Venture asked, looking at Emmett expectantly. When he didn’t answer right away, Clara nudged him with her shoulder.

Emmett opted to start with the pistol. He still wasn’t entirely comfortable with the idea of using a gun, even if it fired nonlethal rounds, but Emmett realized he should get comfortable with it.

Better to know how to use it and not need it, than the other way around.

Emmett laid his arm on the center table and opened his forearm compartment. Metal slid back to reveal the whip, and Emmett realized that for as much as he’d used that particular mod, he hadn’t really looked at it while it was collapsed and inert. It reminded him of an old TV antenna, the linkages tucked neatly inside one another.

“Weird,” Clara said, leaning over to get a better look at his arm. “I don’t know what I expected, but this wasn’t it.”

Emmett chuckled. “I thought you helped put me back together.”

“No…”

“Clara assisted once you were stable,” Venture said as he scooted a chair over.

Emmett glanced at Clara and saw how uneasy she looked. It must have been hard to see him like that. All at once, Emmett regretted the joke.

“I turned out alright,” Emmett added, hoping to lighten the mood.

Clara returned a small smile, but focused on his arm.

Again, the holographic display appeared in the air above the table, showing an expanded view of the process as Dr. Venture walked them through it.

The process wasn’t much different from fixing the linkages in his whip. Instead of just one connection, there were ten, and he still needed tools, but the pliers and screwdriver got the job done. Venture had once called the process minor surgery and the description fit.

Once the connection clicked, Venture looked up expectantly. “Think you can reverse the process?”

He nodded cautiously.

As soon as Emmett started though, he ran into a snag—he could only use one hand. He could kind of use his right hand to hold the pliers for the two connections near his wrist, but Emmett was forced to alternate holding the tools in his left hand and with his teeth. To make things worse, he couldn’t see several of the connections—those had to be done by feel alone.

That might not have been so bad by itself, but Emmett was right-handed.

Twice, Clara helped him during a particularly awkward connection.

When the pistol mod finally snapped free, Emmett spit the screwdriver out of his mouth and sighed with relief.

“Not bad,” Dr. Venture said. “Four minutes and forty-nine seconds.” Emmett stared wide-eyed, and Venture added, “That’s what practice is for.”

Emmett made several more attempts on the pistol mod before watching Venture demonstrate the process for the impact shield. Shortly after, Emmett began his equally humbling attempts to duplicate the process.

Venture observed the first few attempts, but once Emmett got the pattern down, he walked over to the other monitors to work on other things. Clara stayed beside him, watching intently, offering reminders, commentary, and a hand when Emmett needed it.

“Come on, butterfingers.”

“A little to the left—no, your other left.”

“No, not that one!”

“Bet you want a third hand mutagen.”

As much as her commentary made him groan, Emmett was glad she stayed to help—not just for an extra hand, but because she kept him from getting too frustrated.

Slowly, Emmett got the hang of disconnecting and reconnecting his mods. Soon he had the order memorized and got steadily quicker and more sure of himself. He wouldn’t be left-handed any time soon, but he made surprising progress because of the Mutagen-A in his system.

But Emmett quickly saw the limits of his current setup. He could swap out mods outside of the lab, but even with an hour of practice, it still took Emmett almost two minutes to swap them. With enough practice, he might be able to shave a few more seconds off, but even Venture’s simulations couldn’t get below thirty seconds—

Thirty seconds to disconnect one mod. Another thirty to connect a new one. And that was in ideal conditions.

He would be able to swap mods if he was preparing for a mission and had good intel, but if he got ambushed, he couldn’t swap them out on the fly.

Then there was the issue of storage and transport. Even if he developed mods for a hundred different scenarios, what was he going to do, drive around a truck load of spare parts?

By the time Emmett had practiced for an hour, his concentration was beginning to fade. Even Clara had left him and pulled a chair over to the wall monitors.

At first, she had been scrolling through the news, but now she was staring intently at a diagram of the heat sinks. Emmett’s glance in her direction became a stare as he realized that particular design was for her exosuit.

Clara cleared her throat loudly. “That doesn’t sound like modding, Mr. Mod Superhero.”

Emmett dropped the screwdriver, and it clattered on the table. He quickly got back to work. “You’re proud of that one. I can tell.”

He could just see the edge of Clara’s grin.

“So, are you working on something in particular?” Emmett asked.

“Just staring mindlessly at a problem, hoping the answer jumps out at me from the ether.”

He smirked. “Does that happen often?” When Clara didn’t answer, he added, “You know, it’s been a while since we’ve really worked together on the heat sinks. I can help you.”

“No,” she replied quickly, turning off the monitor with a wave. “It’s late.”

Emmett paused to check his phone. It was already past eight.

Late, but not that late.

Emmett didn’t push it—it almost felt like she was kicking him out. “I, uh, let me just finish this. I should probably be getting back.”

Clara stammered, her cheeks flush, and awkward silence settled in between them like sudden, awkward snow.

Before either spoke, Dr. Venture came back into the room and cleared his throat. “I hope I’m not interrupting your work.”

Emmett kept his eyes on the last connections as he fixed the impact shield into place.

“Good,” Venture continued, “Because I was just about to put in pizza. Is pepperoni alright?”

“Emmett was just leaving,” Clara said. She turned and walked out the door. “And I’m not hungry.”

Emmett wanted to call after her, but just kept his head down—feeling like he’d missed something. He would just finish this and then head out.

Venture shrugged. “More for me then.”

When Emmett finished connecting the impact shield, he asked, “Can I have a copy of the schematics?”

Dr. Venture looked over from the wall monitor. “Why?”

Emmett quickly explained how he wanted to swap mods out on the fly. “It’s just not possible with the current system.”

Venture nodded. “Understandable… TINA, encrypt a copy of the schematics for Emmett’s arm and his mods. Import it directly onto his phone.” Then to Emmett he said, “You’ll be able to access them on your phone and laptop, but nowhere else.”

“I understand. What about the other mods, though? Can I take them with me?”

Venture crossed his arms and stared at Emmett. “Are you going to keep them in your backpack?”

Emmett nodded apprehensively. “They’re too big to fit in my pocket… Unless you’ll lend me a Fast-Response Drone to haul around my stuff.”

“Absolutely out of the question.” But Venture rubbed his chin in thought. “...For now.”

~

Emmett left a few minutes later and decided to take the bus home. It took him a few minutes before he relaxed fully and set his backpack down beside him. He spent the ride home and the rest of the night poring over the schematics that Venture had given him.

Emmett wasn’t sure what time Lock might be home, so he holed up in his room. Most of his work would be done on his laptop anyway, so he didn’t need the extra space on the kitchen table.

By midnight, Emmett had come up with four different variations of a quick-connect system. With either, he should be able to swap mods by depressing a lever or two instead of needing tools, and it should take a second or two instead of a minute.

He just needed to figure out which one would be easiest to make and integrate. Which meant Emmett needed to wait until he went back to the lab tomorrow.

Emmett hated waiting.

He finally turned off his computer and laid back in bed, mentally drained.

Lock must have been working late, because he still wasn’t home by the time Emmett fell asleep.

~ ~ ~