Jack, you’re a goddamned loudmouth. Now them ain’t fightin’ words; you know as well as I do that it’s a simple statement of the obvious. I’ve just spent the last thirteen hours inside the cab of the Marion crawler-transporter with Cougar, and there happens to be some important shit we’ve learned and we don’t need you “wond’rin’ aloud” out here in front of everybody and their mutant stepchildren about what we’re trying to accomplish.
You don’t want to hang around the Ark for less than your quoted rate, don’t. Go blow something up instead. But the last thing we want to do is draw unnecessary attention to what we’re doing. Yeah, dragging a 300-foot titanium boner through the middle of L.A. isn’t exactly low-profile. But that Bubba character brought up a point that got Cougar an’ me to thinkin’, and then the kid brought something else to our attention that changed the stakes.
We’re still going to Edwards. If we make it, we’re still going to Mars. Those are what you call True Facts. But it has become vitally important that nobody dig any deeper or all those people out there in the Wasteland, Fleetwood chief among them, are gonna stop laughing at our ridiculous idea and start paying attention to things we don’t want them paying attention to.
You understand me? Or do I gotta sic Cougar on you? You’re already on her fecal list, y’know.
