100 Theme Challenge - 64. Multitasking

100 Theme Challenge
64. Multitasking

“We gotta backtrack, Donnie,” Casey said, leaning in close so the turtle could hear him over the sound of the fan.

“And go where?” Don asked. Somewhere behind them came the clang of robotic parts against the metal of the air duct they were in. “We’re out of options.”

“Maybe we can bust through this wall,” Casey said, pressing his hand against the side of the duct experimentally.

“How? You aren’t going to set off one of your explosives in such a tight space or you’ll kill both of us. This air duct is probably surrounded by a solid wall is most places,” Don said.

“There’s gotta be someplace where it isn’t,” Casey said. “Ya’ can use your blade to cut into the metal and then we can punch an opening wide enough to fit through.”

“Unless you’ve suddenly been blessed with x-ray vision, I don’t know how we’re going to figure out what section to pick,” Don said. “We don’t have time to start tapping the walls and listening for a tell-tale hollow sound.”

“I could light one of my exploding pucks and shoot it down the duct towards the Kraang,” Casey suggested. “If I hit it hard enough the blow-back won’t get us.”

“That’s too many ifs,” Don told him. “There’s no guarantee that the explosion won’t adversely affect the section of duct we’re sitting in. Give me a second.”

Casey had been about to say something else but instead closed his mouth at Don’s request. He watched the genius closely as Don looked around the space they were in and then narrowed his eyes speculatively as he studied the fan.

“What?” Casey asked as Don started to crawl past him.

Raising his voice so that Casey could him, Don said, “There’s a control panel on the other side of the frame that the fan is set into. I’ll bet I can shut off the fan and we can break off a couple of blades with a controlled explosion. That would create a large enough opening for both of us to squeeze through.”

Casey scooted through the duct quickly to catch up to Don. “Ya’ can’t do that while the blades are spinning, Donnie.”

“I know,” Don said, twisting around so his feet dangled over the lip of the air duct.

There was about two feet of space between where the air duct widened out and the fan’s frame. It would be tight work but they’d have a little elbow room.

“We have to stop the blades first,” Don said. “If we shove something solid between them we can jam them long enough for me to get the panel open and turn the fan off.”

Casey’s eyes went immediately to Don’s bo staff. “I know what you’re thinking, but your staff ain’t thick enough. Those blades will snap it in two.”

“That’s why we’re going to have to use my staff and a couple of your weapons,” Don said, looking over at Casey. “My bo alongside your hockey stick and bat should give us enough aggregate strength to stop those blades. We’ll have to time it perfectly and shove them in at the exact same moment though.”

“Let’s do it then,” Casey said, hopping down into the wider space. As Don dropped to the floor next to him, Casey asked, “It’s gonna bust our weapons ain’t it?”

“I suspect so,” Don said. “Either this works and we get out, or we’re going to have to engage in hand-to-hand combat with the Kraang.”

“If I was running this play on the ice, I wouldn’t choose that option,” Casey said as he pulled his stick and bat from their sheaths.

“One more thing,” Don said, his mouth close to Casey’s ear as they stood side by side, weapons in hand. “The Kraang probably haven’t realized we were heading towards the source of the air flow, so they’re just randomly searching the duct work. As soon as the air stops they’ll know exactly where we are.”

“Jeez, you’re just all kinds of sunshine, Donnie,” Casey said with a grin, pressing his weapons together and touching them to Don’s bo.

Bracing himself against Casey, Don said, “On three. One, two, three!”

With well-oiled precision, the pair simultaneously jammed their weapons into the fan. Don’s timing of the blades had been perfect and the combined weapons slid directly into a gap between them. The momentum of the turning blades vibrated through Don’s bo and would have yanked it out of his hands if he hadn’t been prepared for it.

Don heard Casey grunt as he too felt the impact but the boy held on. For a split-second it was a fight between their strength and that of the fan, but then it jammed.

“Crap, I didn’t think it was gonna work for a second there,” Casey said through clenched teeth.

“Me either,” Don said. He could feel the fan trying to turn and held his bo taut. “I can reach the control panel now, but I can’t release my bo because you can’t hold this by yourself. I’ll have to tuck the staff against my side and hold it with one hand so I can have the other free.”

“Go ahead and move,” Casey said, shifting his feet to strengthen his stance.

Don carefully adjusted his position, sliding the end of his staff beneath one arm and settling it against his side. Wrapping his right arm and hand around the bo, he slowly let go with his left and twisted his upper body until he could reach the control panel.

There was a clear acrylic covering over the controls and Don dug out his screwdriver in order to pry it loose. He was acutely aware of Casey’s hip pressing against his own as he jimmied the cover off of the control panel.

For a moment Don examined the symbols on the screen, associating each one with those he’d already translated. As always when concentrating, Don’s tongue hung out of one corner of his mouth, a completely unconscious habit of his.

A sound from Casey broke his train of thought and Don glanced back to make sure Casey wasn’t having a problem. Instead he saw the boy gazing fixedly at his mouth.

Flustered by the look in Casey’s eyes, Don demanded, “What are you staring at?”

Unperturbed at having been busted in the act, Casey said, “Your tongue. I like when you’re multi-tasking ‘cause ya’ always stick it out of your mouth and I think that’s kinda hot.”

Blushing, Don turned back to the panel. “Why do you always choose the most inopportune moments to say things like that?”

“Lately there ain’t been a lot of opportune moments,” Casey answered, even though Don’s question was mostly rhetorical. “I’ll make do with any chances I get.”

Don shook his head, partly from incredulity and partly to clear it so he could concentrate again. The momentary break seemed to have helped though, as soon as he looked at the symbols again, he recognized the shut-down sequence.

Swiftly tapping the panel, Don executed the command that would stop the fan and was elated to hear the motor wind down until it fell silent. Slowly easing off of his bo, Don was happy to find that the fan was completely off.

“Ya’ did it!” Casey exclaimed, pulling what was left of his stick and bat from between the fan blades.

Don ruefully looked at the mangled end of his bo staff. “Another one bites the dust.”

The sound of something slamming against the sides of the air duct echoed into the small chamber the pair was standing in and reminded them that the Kraang were on their trail.

Casey offered two of his explosive hockey pucks to Don and said, “Ya’ said something about a controlled explosion?”

“We’ll need some of the powder from inside these sticks,” Don said, prying them loose from the pucks.

Using his screwdriver, Don drilled a hole into the bottom of the tiny dynamite sticks and then stepped over to the fan. Very carefully, he ran a fine line of explosive powder along the edge of two of the blades, concentrating as much of it as he could at the spot where the blade flattened out.

That done, he ripped one of the wicks loose from a stick and gently draped it across the powder on the upper fan blade. Looking back at Casey, Don held his hand out and said, “All I need is a light and then we dive for cover.”

Casey held up his lighter and said, “I’ll light it. Ya’ did everything else, it’s my turn to contribute.”

“I can move faster than you,” Don argued.

With a snort, Casey said, “In your dreams. Which I know I’ve been in. We gotta talk about that after we get out of here.”

Rather than argue the point, Don stepped out of the way and let Casey by him. As soon as the fuse started to glow red, Don yelled, “Run!”

He and Casey dove towards a corner of the space, getting as far from the blades as they could. They barely had time to duck before the fire touched the powder.

Don felt Casey drape himself over the turtle as the room seemed to explode around them.