Well, four seems the best bet for what he has to say. "Hello, Clark, it's Doc. Dee told me about what happened in the Nexus, and -- thank you for -- fixing her up and getting her the PINpoints and such. I really appreciate it."
Clark calls back shortly afterward, since he was running errands when Doc called the first time. "Hey, not a problem. I like to help out, and she needed a bit of work." He lightly sidesteps the and it's probably not very easy for you to do right now problem.
"Yeah, she did," Doc confirms. He doesn't want to particularly bring up the "and I'm feeling horrible about doing it" thing either, so. . . . "Thanks for your number as well. I hope I don't ever have to use the two emergency buttons you mentioned, but. . .just in case. . . ."
"One thing I've been learning is that having backup is a great thing," he admits. For someone who's flown solo for so long, it's still weird to have people to call on if he needs help, but it's good to have them. "Even if it's something as minor as running out of gas and needing someone to push her up to eighty-eight, I'm your man, if you need me."
He pauses a little, not quite sure how to ask this next question. "This may sound like a really stupid question, but... do you need any help fixing her time circuits?"
"Backup is very important, yes," Doc agrees. He's used to going solo if he has to, but he really does prefer having people who he can rely on if he needs help. Toiling alone -- sometimes brings back a few bad feelings. He chuckles at the image of someone managing to push a car up that fast. "Thanks."
Doc's a little surprised by that. "The time circuits? Well. . . ." He looks at the vacuum tube display, then at the internals. "I suppose I wouldn't mind an extra hand to help with getting it more 'up-to-date,' as it were. That vacuum-tube display is an accident waiting to happen, honestly. I know my other, younger self didn't have a lot of options, but if just one of those tubes breaks. . . ."
Clark nods, even though Doc can't exactly see him. It's just a reflex. "Yeah, I'm not a hundred percent on my time machine circuitry, but I'm a quick learner. And an extra set of hands never hurts." In actuality, Clark has read an entire library in the span of a half hour, and thanks to perfect recall, remembers all of it. Fast learner indeed.
"No, it certainly doesn't," Doc agrees. "And having someone else with at least some knowledge of how to repair them if they get broken and Marty or myself isn't available. . . ." Well, actually, he needs to teach Marty the basics of fixing them too, but it's not like he wouldn't invite his best friend to this little party. He nods to himself. "Yeah, all right. Though -- it may be a little time before. . . ." He trails off awkwardly.
Clark can take a very good guess at what he's thinking. "I know. It's okay." He would suggest that Doc could talk him through it, and not watch, but thinks that maybe that would be imposing a little too much. So he'll leave it up to him to decide. "Whenever you're ready, just give me a call."
"Thanks," Doc says with a sigh. It's complicated for him -- he feels horrible whenever he tries to fix Dee, but when it comes to the time circuits, he also wouldn't feel comfortable without getting down into the trenches himself a bit. That's his big invention, and just instructing someone else in how to do it -- it wouldn't feel right. "I will. I'll even provide lunch," he adds, trying to sound more positive.
That's what Clark kind of figured, because this is a big deal and this Doc never got to build his time machine properly. It doesn't seem fair to rob him of that experience at all. "Sounds great. I'm looking forward to it, but take all the time you need."
He pauses a second. "One more thing. Dee mentioned she misses flying, and she probably won't be able to get her own circuits fixed for a while. Is it okay if I take her up sometime?"
"I'll let you know as soon as possible," Doc promises.
"Oh, yeah -- so long as you're careful, of course, but I don't think I really need to tell you that." Doc chuckles. "We could all do it together, if we wanted. I've still got that wind control."
"Haven't dropped anyone yet," Clark says with a small laugh. It's kind of a joke, but at least it's true. "I took April for a flight the day after I d- uh, figured it out. Nice, long, global trip. She didn't even slip."
"That's right, you do. Bet I can fly higher than you," he teases.
"Good," Doc says, letting Clark's own near-slip pass by. They all have their own issues to figure out. "All the way around the earth? That must have been something."
He laughs. "I don't think I'll take that bet," he admits. "Wind control can only go so high up, after all. Plus, I'm -- almost positive I'm heavier." He's never been quite sure if his metal bones add to his weight, and if so, how much. On the one hand, metal bones, on the other hand, Arcadian metal bones. Fae stuff tends to disdain logic.
"Yeah, it wasn't a straight orbit around the planet either, we did a bit of zigzagging. Went over the Fortress, went to Rome, buzzed the Indian Ocean, did a flyover of Antarctica." It really was a comprehensive tour, even though they barely made any stops. "Oh, and we stopped at a tropical island in the Caribbean. I'm not sure which one."
"Yeah, it's kind of cheating since I've been out of the atmosphere twice," he admits.
Clark thinks about that a little, seriously. "Maybe. How much does the metal add?"
"Wow," Doc says, quite impressed. "That sounds -- absolutely amazing." He's slightly jealous -- he can fly, but he doesn't think he could do a global trek like that.
"Exactly," he agrees. "I'm not capable of orbital flight."
"I -- let me see if I can figure it out," Doc says, sounding slightly frustrated. "I've never been quite sure, simply because of the origin of the metal. I remember the last time I weighed myself as a human, I was about 211 pounds. Just a minute." He heads into the bathroom and finds a scale. About a minute later, he's back. "246 according to the bathroom scale. So it appears about 35 pounds. Have no idea if that's right or they're heavier or lighter than they should be, but -- that's that."
"Okay, you're only a little heavier than me. I was 225 last time I checked. My tissues are a little denser than humans' because Krypton had higher gravity than Earth." He's been learning all sorts of fascinating facts about himself, thanks to some files his older alternate gave him, plus Victor's medical tests. "I can carry Dee, but we can definitely go for a fly sometime. Compare notes and all that."
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He pauses a little, not quite sure how to ask this next question. "This may sound like a really stupid question, but... do you need any help fixing her time circuits?"
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Doc's a little surprised by that. "The time circuits? Well. . . ." He looks at the vacuum tube display, then at the internals. "I suppose I wouldn't mind an extra hand to help with getting it more 'up-to-date,' as it were. That vacuum-tube display is an accident waiting to happen, honestly. I know my other, younger self didn't have a lot of options, but if just one of those tubes breaks. . . ."
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He pauses a second. "One more thing. Dee mentioned she misses flying, and she probably won't be able to get her own circuits fixed for a while. Is it okay if I take her up sometime?"
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"Oh, yeah -- so long as you're careful, of course, but I don't think I really need to tell you that." Doc chuckles. "We could all do it together, if we wanted. I've still got that wind control."
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"That's right, you do. Bet I can fly higher than you," he teases.
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He laughs. "I don't think I'll take that bet," he admits. "Wind control can only go so high up, after all. Plus, I'm -- almost positive I'm heavier." He's never been quite sure if his metal bones add to his weight, and if so, how much. On the one hand, metal bones, on the other hand, Arcadian metal bones. Fae stuff tends to disdain logic.
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"Yeah, it's kind of cheating since I've been out of the atmosphere twice," he admits.
Clark thinks about that a little, seriously. "Maybe. How much does the metal add?"
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"Exactly," he agrees. "I'm not capable of orbital flight."
"I -- let me see if I can figure it out," Doc says, sounding slightly frustrated. "I've never been quite sure, simply because of the origin of the metal. I remember the last time I weighed myself as a human, I was about 211 pounds. Just a minute." He heads into the bathroom and finds a scale. About a minute later, he's back. "246 according to the bathroom scale. So it appears about 35 pounds. Have no idea if that's right or they're heavier or lighter than they should be, but -- that's that."
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