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rmjagonshi · 5 years ago

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Whole Again Chapter 24

Whole Again on AO3

Getting their passports stamped should, theoretically, be simple. It was unlikely that there were too many people around at his time of night. Stanford checked his watch; roughly eight in the evening. Maybe the office wasn't open. But with the storm they sailed through, it was unlikely that the Port Authority was closed as ships were likely seeking refuge. Stanford wanted to move forwards with this…circumstance. He still hadn’t made up his mind about what was happening. He wasn't sure if he could make up his mind. But his sailing partner no longer wished him any harm. This was an experiment. Empirical testing. What would his partner do when exposed to others? The unicorn necklace prevented him from doing any real harm beyond basic human action.

It wasn't as if they actually could avoid people forever.

Stanford waited as he watched the body of his brother walk along the dock to the office of the Port Authority. He watched even as he tethered the ship to the mooring piles, following him out of the corner of his eye. It was also a test for himself. Could he let…his partner…go off on his own?

Stanford barely got the ropes tied before he leaped off the ship after Stan.

He caught up to the body of his brother in front of the Port Authority Office. The lights were dim, but on, and Stanford could just see the silhouette of a man sitting at the front desk through the front window, the light from a television flickering in the corner.

Stanford placed a hand on the back of his partner’s shoulder, eyes snapping to the rainbow threads around his neck. He hadn’t even realized how tense he was until the sight of the necklace released it. His mouth twisted into a false smile as he peered into his partner’s face. But Stan didn’t look at him. His eyes were wide, mouth a tight, white line.

He was frozen.

It didn’t take Stanford long to figure out why.

He read over the bold letters fastened to the side of the building. It didn’t read ‘San Juan’.

They had missed Puerto Rico by several hundred nautical miles.

“We have to leave. Now. Sixer, we gotta go.” Stan had turned to him, gripping his bicep in a bruising grip and trying to pull him back to the ship. Stanford held firm.

“We can’t. We’re out of supplies and our electrical is out. We’re lucky we actually made it to port.” He was used to being the voice of reason. And if they had any hope of leaving Colombia, they needed to have their electrical repaired. Stanford could do it himself with enough supplies, but he wasn’t the engineer Fiddleford was. He would like to have some assistance just so he didn’t electrocute himself.

Stan shook his head, muttering strings of words that Stanford could just make sense of.

“Why here? It HAD to be here, didn’t it? No other fuckin’ port we coulda hit? Not safe for us. I LEFT IT! I left it here. Fuck you, Sanchez. Two years, I ain’t going back.”

“Hey. Breathe. You…we look different, now. Two days. Tomorrow we get food and supplies, and the day after I’ll fix the wiring. We’ll lie low.” Stanford gripped Stan’s arms, holding him steady.

Stan’s face was ridged. Eyed narrowed and jaw clenched. His jowls twitching in time with his rapid pulse.

“There isn’t really an alternative, is there?” But Stan wasn’t really asking a question.

There was. There was an alternative. Stanford’s eyes snapped to the fibers peaking out of the white shirt collar. But that wasn’t really an option either.

Stan’s eye found his, following Stanford’s gaze to his exposed collar. Stan gritted his teeth and gave one firm jerk of his head. NO.

Stan took a deep breath, hands going slack on Stanford’s biceps. His eyes steely and piercing.

“Fine. Two days. But you do what I say. Keep yer head low and follow my lead.”

Stanford nodded once, jaw tight.

Stan gave one last squeeze before releasing him.

The the glass door wedged against the floor as Stan tried to push it open, a screeching filling the front room and covering up the ding of the overhead bell.

The man at the front desk startled, feet slamming to the floor from their position on the side table. The television was blaring some action movie.

Stan’s posture changed the instant he crossed the threshold. His shoulders rose and squared, mouth twisting into a smirk, eye flashing. Stan was a showman, though and through. Stanford had refused to go on one of Stan’s ‘Mystery Shack” tours, despite his brother’s goading. He still felt that the museum was a mockery of the real paranormal, but he understood the appeal of false danger. Seeing Stan flip his appearance so completely was a marvel. A mask so flawless, Stanford would have never known otherwise.

A trait, it seemed, he had always had.

Stanford shook his head to ride himself of the thought. It was creeping. Slowly creeping like vines or a plague over every happy memory he had. Days of beach combing, riding their bikes on the board walk, birthdays and Hanukkah celebrations. All of them tinged yellow, black veins worming their way into every memory.

Later. I can deal with this later. Focus on the ‘here and now’.

The man at the counter eyed them warily. Pulling out a log book and flipping a switch on the register.

They logged the ship, but their passports gave the man pause. Twins from America on a dinky refurbished fishing vessel were not the most common of sights. Apparently, they were odd enough to warrant a second look as the man passed a scanner over the back page of each book to verify their authenticity.

“You don’t have eyepatch in photo.”

Stan gave a half-hearted laugh and flipped up the novelty eyepatch, now real, for the guy to see.

“Boating accident. Cable snapped. Still healing.”

It was still healing, technically. The skin knitting together rapidly and causing puffy scars to lace across his eye and bridge of his nose. The patch didn’t cover everything, edges of scars peeked out from behind black cloth. The man looked ready to be sick, but accepted the passports and stamped them. After some negotiation and a substantial bribe, they paid their tourist and mooring fee. And there wasn’t much left over.

Stan was still grumbling about the bribe as they left the Port Authority office, grimacing as he thumbed through the few bills he’d gotten back after exchanging what money they had.

“We’ve got just enough for a taxi and one night. We’ll have to hit a bank tomorrow. Looks like we’re eatin’ whatever we can get from a gas station.”

They had walked back to the boat to collect their bags. Stanford had pulled out his phone and was attempting to look-up a map of the area, but was struggling to find a signal. The battery indicator blinked and turned red. Less than 20% left.

“Don’t bother. I snagged a map as we left.” Stan tugged the folded map from his sleeve and handed it to Stanford. ‘I’ll get us packed. You call a taxi. I don’t fancy walking more’an a quarter mile ‘less we have’ta.” Stan was starting to slur his words again. It was best for them to get rest soon.

Stanford called the taxi service listed on the map, speaking in slow and formal Spanish and asking the man on the other end to slow down and repeat himself a few times. In the end, the man had simply shouted at him in broken English, “Port Authority. Two old gringos. Got it. Ten Minutes.” Stanford frowned at the phrasing, he’d have to ask Stan what this word meant later.

After nearly half an hour sat waiting in the parking lot, the dull mustard yellow car pulled up beside them. Popping the trunk so they could load their bags. Stan pulled open the passenger door to talk with the guy as Stanford took the backseat, unfolding the map to locate the nearest exchange bank.

Stan the the driver talked back and forth in Spanish, laughing occasionally as they rode. Stan flipped up his eyepatch again and their driver just whistled long and low at the scars. He thumbed back at Stanford a few times, and the driver gave a wide smirk. Stanford tuning them out. Streetlights and headlights from passing traffic rhythmically illuminating the inside of the car. Stanford, once again, regretted not receiving the bionic eye implant in Dimension St-34M_P4nK. His eyesight had always been bad, but the years were catching up to him and his night vision was going faster than he was comfortable with.

“Ya know, I like yuz. You’re good people, eh? Not like them snooty gringos that come through on them yachts.” The man was speaking English for Stanford’s benefit. Stan just laughed. “Tell you what, Flat rate. And I’ll take ya’s ta the The Sanctuary. Fancy, but safe for gringos. Don’t want ta get caught up in any cartel shits. They been pickin’ you gringo tourists up fer ransom more an’ more. Damn fuckers practically run e’erythin’. But ‘cuz they gringos, poliza don’ do nuttin’ abou’ it. Ahe, ma English is bad. But you know.”

Actually, Stanford didn’t. He had no idea about the current politics of the world. He hadn’t bothered to do much research before they set off. He knew the U.S. was currently in a sort of war with Iran, but that was the extent of his knowledge. No wonder Stan was uncomfortable being here. Stanford felt sorry for the people that had to live through it.

He was starting to see the byproduct of that kind of criminal activity. Everything from store fronts to parking lots had gates and bars. The windows on some second-floor buildings were also barred. Fire escapes if they had any, stopped short of the ground by about eight feet. The sidewalks were sparse. No benches, only the occasional bike rack. All empty. There was hardly any greenery. No lawns or patches of grass. No plants or trees. Not even piles of leaves from the changing seasons. A claustrophobic cage of concrete and steel.

They pulled up to a concrete wall on the river side of the street. Stanford could make out the tops of spindly trees and the top of some peaked roof building. The gate was closed, but a gentleman in the guard station flipped the leaver without giving them much notice, pulling the gate back. The area beyond the gate was radically different from the one they had just driven though. The grass was green and lively, even in late December. The trash that had lined the road was gone, instead there were the plants and trees that were common in city sides in the U.S.

Their driver pulled up to the front building, flipping a switch on the meter box so that the numbers rolled down. Stan paid as Stanford pulled out the bags. He checked his inside pocket again, thumbing the glass vial through the fabric. The RV and El Diablo, and a few choice weapons were safely tucked inside in case of emergency. They had separated the size changing crystal and flashlight, the crystal now hanging from Stanford’s neck on a loose cord, tucked inside his sweater.

“’EY, Stanley! You call me if you need more rides, OK? I give you discount.” The driver called out from the window, waving at them.

Stan called back from the entrance. “Will do, Maxi. Thanks for the ride.”

The entry for the Sanctuary was like walking into a cathedral. Tall arched ceiling, and tiled floors lined with plush rugs. Chairs and sectionals were pushed against the wall and in little clusters, decorative plants hung from wall hooks and sat on end tables. A brief sniff of the air told Stanford that they were real.

Ain’t no way we can afford this. This is gotta be a five-star hotel. Fuck hotel, this is a resort!

Stanford was inclined to agree with his partner, but before he could respond, they heard shouting from across the room.

As they approached the front desk, a man in a silk robe that easily cost more than the Stan O’ War II was complaining loudly to the clerk about the humidity in his room. Both brothers stopped a good distance from the volatile man.

“The air is too stale! Now I’ve been waiting for half an hour for someone to do something about it, and you say he already came!”

“Sir, I sent someone up but…”

“That homeless looking man?! Of course, I wouldn’t let him in. So he can rob me? Are you crazy? Can’t you send someone more respectable?”

Stan frowned, mouth grimacing and nose wrinkling at the level of disrespect the man exuded. Stuck up snob!

The clerk sighed, looking defeated. “I’ll see if someone is available.”

“Oh, I know how you people are. That means you won’t do shit. Fine! Here. Twenty U.S. dollars. Worth a fortune to you people. Now send someone to fix the humidity in my room!”

The man slammed a twenty-dollar bill on the counter and marched away, furiously wrapping his robe around himself and stuffing his hands in his pockets.

A flash of white dropped in his wake and fluttered to the floor. Stanford ran over to it without thinking. It was silk, soft as sin and running over his fingers like water. The corner was embroidered with a gold curl and the initials M.B.

“Sir, you dropped your handkerchief.”

The man paused, hallway to the elevator when Stanford called out to him. He turned, red faced and scowling. His eyes scanned Stanford’s appearance and sneered. It wasn't the first time Stanford felt self-conscious about his looks. He was dressed in a weather-beaten blue jacket, his classic read cable knit and salt crusted jeans and boots. He also hadn’t shaved in several weeks and was finally starting to grow a beard.

The man sniffed, wrinkling his nose as some imperceptible smell and reached out to take the handkerchief back, but paused when he caught sight of Stanford’s hand. Even after all these years and though countless other dimensions, nothing quite put him on the defensive as someone noticing his hands.

‘Mutant!’

Stanford felt his stomach clench, and the age-old fear crawled up his spine again. But he wouldn’t run. Not this time. He didn’t need to.

“Ford…”

He ignored his partner’s call, choosing instead to smile at the man as he held up the handkerchief. Just far enough from him to be offering it, but close enough that the man would have to enter his space to claim it.

The man said nothing, simply marched up to Stanford, snatched the silk square from him and bolted to the elevator doors.

He heard his partner give and audible sigh when the elevator doors closed with a ding.

He turned back to Stan, tucking his hand in his pocket and adjusting the bag strap on his shoulder.

Stan just gave him a soft smile before turning to the counter and the much-relived desk clerk. Poor doll.

Stan spoke to her in Spanish, soft and pleasant, with a slight air of flirtation. The woman gave them both an amused look. But when she named the price of a room, Stan’s smile disappeared.

They didn’t have enough. The taxi ride, even with the discount, had eaten just enough into their cash that they were short. Even the smallest room available was out of their budget. Not to mention the late check-in fee and registration fee for not having a reservation.

Stan groused, reluctantly pulling out his bank card and handing it to the clerk. They had wanted to keep their profile low, paying in cash left an electronic trail. The clerk scanned the card, the machine beeped, then buzzed. The card had been denied. This was a problem.

But the clerk felt sorry for them. She walked them over to the entertainment plaza building and unlocked the doors so Stan could use the ATM. There were several lined up against the front wall of various banks. Stanford was quite fond of the Automatic Teller Machines and the bank cards that came with them. They were infinitely more convenient than carrying around large wads of cash, but they also were left open to electronic errors. The credit chips in used in the multiverse were better; they were tied into your unique genetic code so that even an alternate universe version of you couldn’t hack into your bank account.

But the ATM also denied Stan’s card. Their account had been frozen. Suspicious purchases bought in Iceland. With all that had happened, neither one had thought to check-in with the bank to let them know they were in Iceland. Now they were stranded with little more than $50 U.S. dollars in a very dangerous area with a ship with a fried electrical grid and no food.

“DAMNIT!” Stan kicked at the wall, swearing again as the concrete absorbed the impact and a wave of pain rolled up his foot and leg.

“Wha’dd’ya wanna do, Sixer? Suppose we can go sleep on the boat, but that won’t do nuthin’ for food. An’ we don’t have enough to get ‘er looked at either.” He sighed, flopping against the wall and giving Stanford a tired look. “Suppose we could try and give’em a call, but I don’t suspect we’ll get an answer this time a night.”

They stood in silence a few moments, the poor clerk standing by awkwardly, fiddling with the keyring and hoping these old men would make up their minds so she could go and do her job.

Stanford glanced at her from the corner of his eye, frowning. He pulled his phone out and called the only number he could think of. “Hello. Maxi? Stan’s brother. You know anywhere we could make some quick cash?”

*~*

Stanford had been hoping for a late-night pawn shop, maybe even an advanced loan establishment, just enough to cover the night until they figured out their bank account. Maxi had gladly driven back and picked them up, taking them further into the city and following back roads filled with trash and broken wood pallets.

Stan and Maxi had spoken so rapidly and so hushed that Stanford didn’t bother keeping up. Maxi dropped them off a few buildings away from an old storage building located behind an animal feed storefront. Maxi leaned in close to Stan, whispering something urgent. Stan only nodded in reply before reaching for his wallet. “Not this time. This time on me. You call me when it’s over.”

Stan patted Maxi’s shoulder and got out of the passenger-side door, Stanford following after. They walked silently to the old concrete building before turning down the side ally. A red glow from a burning cigarette emanating from the darkness. Warning bells were going off in Stanford’s head, signaling that this was all kinds of wrong. That they were much safer heading back to the ship and fishing off the dock, but Stan grabbed his jacket sleeve and tugged him forwards. He tried to catch Stan’s eye, but was only met with worn matte black.

They could hear shouting and the clanking of a cowbell from inside. The barking of a hound echoed after. A fighting ring. Dogs, cocks, people. It didn’t really matter which, all that matted was that they should keep walking and find someplace safe.

But Stan wouldn’t let him go, wrapping his fingers around his wrist and thumbing the Vegvisir band wrapped around Stanford’s wrist.

Fat lotta good it’s doing! Leading us here. Should just chuck it.

Don’t. It looks good on ya. Besides, you like it. You wear it all the time.

Stanford shook his head, ignoring Bill’s words and instead focusing on where Bill had led them.

“Best be moving on grandpa. Ain’t nothing here for ya.” The bouncer regarded them briefly before flicking the ash off his cigarette.

“Here to make a bet. Word is the money’s good tonight.” Stan responded, unswayed by the size of the bouncer.

“Got any cash?”

Stan pulled out a few bills from his breast pocket, flashing them briefly. The bouncer nodded, dropping his cigarette and crushing it under his heel before leading them inside.

“Ya need to check in your bags, gramps. We ain’t a bunk house.” Stanford’s grip tightened on the strap of his bag. They weren’t carrying anything valuable. Least not in bags. Stanford resisted the urge to check his pocket for the glass vial again.

The low bark of a bull mastiff drew Stanford’s attention. The hound had a muzzle strapped to its head, but it didn’t look like the metal was going to stop it if the dog was determined to bite.

“Aie, Aie, shut up. Stupid mutt.” The bouncer unlocked a side door, more a closet than anything, and held out his hand for their bags. With some reluctance, they handed them over, pausing a moment in front of the hound’s nose before they were tossed unceremoniously on the floor and the door was locked again.

“You wanna bet, go see Mitch. He’s at the front table.”

Stanford could just make out the man muttering as they walked, “Stupid fag gringos.”

It was only then that he realized he was still holding Stan’s hand. He let go, tucking his hands in his pockets a moment before Stan leaned into his side and whispered harshly in his ear. “Don’t do that. They’ll think you’re gonna pull a knife or somthin’. No one’s gonna care about your hand here.”

Stanford did as he was told, smoothing the cloth of his jacket instead.

They reached the front table where a short balding man sat smoking a cigar and thumbing through some bills from a metal cash box. A chalk board sat propped against the wall to his left, a few names and tallies etched on its surface; odds ratios in bold under each match-up. There were four matches written up, the top two crossed off, already taken place. The third was raging on beyond the doors, passed the crowd. The fourth had been X-ed out. A single name in one column and a blank space where the challenger should be. The odds for the named fighter were 4:1 on.

“’Ey. Match just started, you wanna make a bet, you do it here.” The man flicked his cigar into a plastic cup on the table. “Won’t be much money ta be had tonight. Newbie dropped out. They’ve been lookin’ fer someone ta take his place, but ain’t no one step up yet. All too scared of Pedro. You still wanna make a bet, you can. But this is the last match of the night. Neither one the house favorite.”

Stan took a moment to contemplate the scoreboard before answering. Even if they bet everything they had, they wouldn’t make very much. It might get them into a room with a mattress on the floor, but nothing in the way of supplies. But who to bet on? Stanford peeked in the open door to watch the fighters. There wasn’t any indication which one was whom. The shorter fighter looked like he had the advantage, but it was the first round and neither looked outclassed. He still thought this whole idea was stupid, but the next words out of Stan’s mouth cornered sensible in a dark alley and beat it for its pocket change.

“How much to enter?”

Stanford whipped his head to look at his partner, even more convinced that Bill had lost his ever-loving mind! Not that he’s ever had any sense, but at least he wasn’t this irrational. No one Stanford had ever met had ever had such a lack of common sense. No one but Stan.

He still hadn’t decided on what to call this…hybrid person. Partner seemed the best fit now. Stanford ignored the shit-eating grin that reverberated down their mental connection.

“Hah, funny grandpa. I like you. Tell ya what, you bet on Antonio, he’s more likely to win. Still only 3:1, but it’s better than nothing.

Stan just grinned wider. He cracked his neck, rolling his knuckles and squaring his shoulders.

“How much to fight?”

*~*

The money guy had called down the owner, realizing Stan was serious. No amount of protesting from Stanford dismayed him. The owner was enormous. Easily over six foot and built of solid muscle. He wasn't thin either; torso thick and bulky and arms as wide as Stanford’s neck. An ex-pro boxer by the looks of it. He was intrigued by Stan’s request, but had laughed at him too. Telling him he could enter if he wants, but they would just throw his carcass out in the back alley when he died.

“I’ll be fine. Just let me in the ring and I’ll show ya what I can do.”

“You’re outta your mind gramps. But sure. You wanna fight, go ahead. Tell ya what, you survive, I’ll pay out $100,000.”

Stan grinned, dollar signs glittering in his eye. “Dollars?”

“Pesos, grandpa. Pesos.”

Stan let out a dark and dry chuckle. “And If I win?”

“Jackpot’s sitting at 2,350,000 pesos.”

Stanford had called him crazy when they shook hands, Stan just shrugged him off.

Stan had gone back to the check in closet to pull out a pair of loose-fitting shorts from their bags. Stanford had followed him, closing the closet door behind them. An audible click echoed in the tiny room.

“This is crazy. We can still get out and get back to the docks. We can think of something else.”

“Nope. Mind’s made up. I’m doing this.” Stan didn’t even bother turning around as he undid his jeans.

“You’ll die! You can’t use magic anymore.” There wasn’t much space in the side closet. It was only big enough to store the patrons’ stuff, if they had any. “Not unless you expect me to take that off you. Is that what your expecting? Goad me into…”

“No!” Stan shouted, head snapping up. He took two steps to stand closer to his brother. “I don’t want that.” Stan’s hand thumbed over the scar on Stanford’s cheek, still visible though healed. He frowned at the memory, of straining to seal the wound closed even as his magic dwindled. Apology dying on his lips. Instead, he simply smirked and patted Stanford’s cheek. “I don’t need magic to win this. We need money. This will get us some.” He stepped back to pull his jeans off, tugging his socks and shoes off along with them.

“You’re being reckless. You’re putting yourself needlessly in danger to...” He flapped his arms looking for the appropriate wording, averting his eyes and trying to keep the blush from his cheeks, “To show off, apparently.”

“Maybe.” Stan…winked…maybe, but his face soured with his next words. “But if we’re going to argue about ‘needless danger’, we should talk about how you walk headlong at anything even remotely out of the ordinary. You have no idea if things might be friendly or not, but no, you just have to go study it.” Stan had pulled on his shorts and was stuffing his clothes into Stanford’s bag.

“That is the inherent danger in field study. And I understand and calculate the level of danger before I approach. This is just suicide! I can understand gambling, Bill, but this?! Do you have any idea how illegal this is? How much danger we are really in?”

Stan’s shoulders tensed at the name, hands stilling on the bag he was hunched over. His knuckles turning white as he clenched and unclenched his hands.

Maybe Bill was just looking for a fight. If that was all, Stanford could oblige. But Stan’s voice cut through the building tension.

“Yes. This isn’t my first round in a cage fight.”

Fine. If Bill was going to play Stan’s history, he’d bite.

“You aren’t young anymore. You haven’t kept your body in peak condition for decades.” But Stan had stood up by then, turning and shedding his shirt in one swift motion, letting it drop on top of the bag. He held his arms out, loosely set on his hips and he straighten his back and flexed.

Looking at Stan now, Stanford picked up on all the little things that reminded him they weren’t young anymore. His hair was the most prominent. Gray. All of it. Stan was always hairy, even back in high-school, but it had only gotten worse with time. At least his body hair had. Stan was balding. The hair at the back of his head only hid the skin beneath in the faintest of light. Next, his gut. Stan hadn’t aged well. Though, now with the understanding of what Stan had been doing the past forty years, Stanford can’t blame him. But there was no question that Stan was packing more weight than could be hidden. Pecks more flab than muscle. And without the help of his girdle, it was, for lack of a better word, ‘hanging’ out there for everyone to see. Stan’s face carried so many lines now. Lines zipping back and forth across his forehead. Creases bordering his eyes and puffy eyelids. Forced laugh lines from his years of being a wannabe carnival barker. Lips chapped from the salty air. Pockmarks and discoloration around his jaw. Skin sagging a bit around his neck.

He was a dead man walking if he followed through with this.

“Let me fight instead.” The words were out of Stanford’s mouth before he could stop them.

“No way.”

“I’m fitter than you. I may not have the raw strength you do, but I can hold my own.”

“Not happenin’ Stanford. I can put myself in danger. I won’t put you there.”

Stanford’s eyes blinked before a dark laugh passed his lips, brought forth from decades of grief and hate.

“’You won’t put me in danger’, huh?” He snarled, ripping back the fabric of his jacket and sweater to show the scarring on his wrist. A dark band with radiating veins to his forearm and the back of his hand. Two more on his other wrist and neck. Permanent burns. Charred tissue beneath the skin. Courtesy of the torture he’d endured to keep the world safe from Bill. “What about this then? What about after I shut down the portal? You’re so worried about putting me in danger, you weren’t then.”

“I’m not that person anymore!”

“Bull shit you’re not! I don’t know why I didn’t see it before. You act just like you always did. Selfish and self-serving. I was just too blinded by your flattery to notice!”

“Stanford, I…”

But there was a knock on the doors seconds before it snapped open.

“Hey gramps. Boss wants ta know if yer ready?”

Stan walked past him, reaching the door and walking into the entry way.

The owner led them back into the tiny side room with a sink and drain in the center. Stanford stood to the side and watched as the owner and another guy inspected Stan’s physique. The owner’s eyebrows jumping in surprise at Stan’s muscle mass despite his age. It was clear Stan was a boxer, or used to be, with the way he carried himself. It was something the owner of this little underground boxing ring had picked up on. Stan flexed when asked, jabbed at the air to show off his form, and tested his grip on the owner’s fingers. Even Stanford caught the slight wince and creaking of bone when Stan squeezed. Stanford’s fingers twitched with every touch, eyes trained on the rainbow fibers, now visible, resting against Stan’s collar bones. The two men left after a few short minutes to draw up the odds, mumbling about how tonight was going to be interesting.

“You can still back out.”

“Can it, would’ya. Win or lose I get somthin’. And I intend to win.”

The door creaked open and a kid pokes his head in the gap. He glances over at Stan a moment before tossing Stanford a roll of tape, shaking his head. They could hear shouting and something like glass breaking. “Pedro ain’t happy he’s going against an old man. I’d say your goodbyes, amigo.” The kid slipped out, closing the door quietly. Stan was standing in the middle of the room doing some light stretches. Shoulders rolling back and forth in their sockets, trapezius shifting under surprisingly tight skin.

“He was impressed. Ya see that look he gave me? Like he found a gold nugget where he thought was gonna be dog shit. Ha!”

“Bill…”

“Stop with that! I ain’t him!”

“You aren’t Stan either.”

“More now than I was then. Just let me do this.” They fell into an awkward silence as they waited.

The owner came back, trailed by what Stanford assumed was ‘Pedro’. Pedro was short, bit shorter than Stan’s height, but he was stacked. The kid was hardly older than 20, abs sculpted and hips thin. His muscles visibly shifted with each movement, veins popping up on his skin. His jaw was chiseled and smooth. He looked like a poster boy for some band or car magazine. On the surface. But there was something there rippling just beneath the surface that clawed at the air between them. A beast barely restrained by a thin rope. The veins in his neck and face pulsed. Teeth looking more like fangs in the dim light.

Stanford did not like Stan’s chances against Pedro. Hell, he didn’t like his chances against Pedro and he was in better shape than Stan. The kid, and he certainly was compared to the two of them, exuded so much testosterone that Stanford could smell it. It was obvious why this kid was the house favorite. His eyes held a level of rage Stanford was unfamiliar with. The kid wanted blood. He’d been denied a challenge and now he was going to take his anger out on Stanford’s partner. He gulped.

The kid turned to the owner, speaking in rapid Spanish, gesturing to them both. Stan shouted above the bickering, “¡Oye! Como el infierno, te dejo tocarlo a él!”, standing in front of Stanford, pushing him back a step. But the owner shook his head and stood firm. “Fine, gramps. I’ll fight you. Kiss your fag boyfriend goodbye, cuz you ain’t walking out of that cage. I’m gonna kill you.”

Stanford gaped at the kid’s words, but Stan just grinned and held out his hand. “I look forward to it.”

The kid scoffed, reaching out to squeeze Stan’s hand, hoping to feel the bones break under his grip. Stan returned the grip in equal measure. Bones not breaking or creaking, but instead, clamping around the kid’s hand like steel. His grin split his face in half when the kid flinched.

Pedro pulled bag, and strutted back to the main room, likely getting ready for the match.

The owner, who’s name Stanford had neglected to remember, watched Pedro go, turning back to them both with a shrug.

“Last fight’s still on. I suspect it’ll be a long one, so you got time. We’ll call you. And you’ll have to take the eyepatch off. What name you wanna go by? Gotta call out something when the match starts.”

Stan thought about it for a bit, humming as he twisted the question in his mind. After a moment, he smirked, ripping the eye patch off and letting the boss get a good look at the healing scars covering the empty socket.

“The One-Eyed Beast.”

*~*

They weren’t allowed gloves. No protective gear. Not even shoes. Just tape. Stan’s glasses tucked into the collar of Stanford’s sweater.

“Too many people trying ta sneak in weights and blades. Bare hands means I can’t hide nuttin.”

Stanford’s hands shook even as he meticulously wrapped each of Stan’s knuckles. The white tape stood out against the tanned skin. Cool and textured verses warm and soft. The contrast cut through Stanford’s psyche. Like he was replacing the smooth flesh with something inhuman. Weaving the tape around each finger, stabilizing his metacarpals and wrist. His fingers slipped on the tape as he tried to tuck and tie it off. Once, twice. His hands wouldn’t cooperate.

His mind kept flashing back to Stan’s opponent. He didn’t know why, but the kid scared him. Something about the kid…man terrified him. His eyes weren’t human. The man was an animal. Stanford could see it in his movements, the way he sized them up. He was no more tame than the bull mastiffs being walked around on lead, snapping and growling at any perceivable threat.

Stan wove his untapped hand through his fingers. Clasping them tight and squeezing. “I got it. It’s ok.” Stan pulled back to finish the knot before starting on his other hand.

Stanford bit his tongue until he tasted blood.

A knock on the door came far too soon. They were preparing for the last match of the night.

Stan was up and out of the door in a few short strides, Stanford trailing along behind him, a bundle of nerves.

The chalkboard propped up on the wall had been altered. ‘One Eyed Beast’ in the challenger column beside Pedro. 10:1 odds. He’s surprised it wasn't lower. People were lined up to place their bets, ecstatic that Pedro was going to fight tonight.

They followed their escort to the main room, weaving in and out of the people lingering and milling about. Guard dogs growling and barking as they walked past. They were standing in front of the cage now, Pedro already inside and looking ready to tear the head off the next person who crossed him. That next person, unfortunately, being Stan.

A brief hush swept across the crowd. They had seen who was up. An old favorite against a newbie. An old newbie. Stanford didn’t let their age bother him much, least not when they were running circles around dangerous anomalies. But here. Around other people. Their age was distinct. They were in their sixties. Wouldn’t know it for how easily they kept up, but they were getting older. Stanford woke up with twinges of pain he didn’t remember having before. And Stan had apparently been fighting back pain since his late forties.

But the man standing in the cage wasn’t the man Stanford had been helping to wrap his hands. No. Like crossing the cage threshold had changed him. He stood taller. Stan’s biceps pulled taut against the skin, curving and accentuating his arms. His gut was still there, but he’d lost weight in the months at sea, and the top level of flab hid a strong torso. Stan was thick. Had always been. He’d been a heavyweight since those first lessons all the way back in middle school. His legs were still as thick as ever and had grown more definition as they became accustom to the sea. The overhead spotlight gleamed off the sweat already forming on Stan’s skin. He was practically glowing. A force of nature now stood where his brother once did. He held himself steady on the uneven and unstable elevated cage. More a plywood slab braced on random stacks of cinderblocks. Chain link fencing weaved around the structure and was attached to the ceiling and floor. He didn’t look scared or nervous. Hell he looked downright gleeful.

A thickly accented jeer echoed from across the room.

“The hell is this?! Get this gringo grandpa outta here.” Angry responses and jeers erupted in waves through the crowd. Stanford felt the hackles rise up on the back of his neck. He and Stan could handle being out-numbered, but not like this. There were well over a hundred people clamoring for a chance to make a bet. But despite the jeers, Stan was calm. His face plain, perhaps even a smirk, as he eyed his opponent.

A deafening clang rang in Stanford’s ears. The cage door had slammed closed. A ‘referee’ was locking the heavy padlock and chain. Too late to make a run for it.

This was insanely foolish. Even more so than restarting the portal. At least Stan had the misfortune of not fully understanding the ramifications of opening the link to other dimensions. This, Stan had full knowledge of the consequences. And he was still standing there. The unicorn necklace still sparkling against Stan’s throat. The spell was supposed to be a protection against Bill. Against his powers to manipulate the world. He could only hope that wasn't the only thing it protected against.

Stanford flexed his hands repeatedly, eyes trained on the two fighters. A speaker mounted somewhere overhead crackled and sputtered, announcing the beginning of the next match. Cheers and boos echoing from everywhere as the fighters were introduced. Stan seemed to relish in jeers and heckles. When he didn’t react, the voices grew louder, bottles and crumpled paper cups being flung at the cage to bounce off the fencing.

Stan just grinned.

The clang of a cowbell broke through the crowd’s noise. The match had begun.

There weren’t rules in underground fighting. Anything went. The winner was the one who could walk out.

Pedro came in with a flurry of punches, aiming for Stan’s torso and head. Stan braced and took the beating. Blow after blow to ribs and arms. Stray fist connecting with his face. But Stan hadn’t faltered yet. When Pedro pulled back, readying a roundhouse, Stan’s left fist connected with his jaw. Pedro stumbled back. He wiped the sweat from his face and glowered.

A scream, pulled from the bowels of hell, clawed its way through the kid’s throat. He dove to grab Stan’s torso, but he shifted, trapping Pedro in a headlock and pulling him off balance. Fists wailed on Stan as the kid tried to free himself. An arm wound around Stan’s leg. A knee to the kid’s jaw. Pedro was released. Stan taking four steps to the other side of the ring.

He was using the kid’s rage and confidence against him.

Pedro recovered quickly, eyes blazing at being humiliated by an old man. He charged again. Fists low. Stan sidestepped, but Pedro anticipated the move. His aim struck home.

Stan doubled, gut and chest taking the damage. Quick and light jabs countered some of Pedro’s blows, but not many. Stan took a step back. Then another. He was being backed into a corner. A second later, the kid dropped to the floor, legs pulled out from under him was a subtle sweep.

Stan danced around him, putting distance between them.

Downed twice by an old geezer. Pedro was livid.

But the clanking of a cowbell singled the end of the first round.

The guy taking bets was walking around the crowd, calling out odds and taking more cash from eager patrons. He passed close to Stanford, notebook and a spool of tickets in hand. Stanford watched him, eyes flicking back and forth between Stan and the man collecting bets.

It couldn’t hurt.

A second ring of the cowbell started the next round, but Stanford had lost his place near the front of the crowd. He could see flashes of movement over the tops of people’s heads. Shouting and grunts. A dog growled and barked from somewhere to his left.

Stan’s voice rang above everything. A sharp grunt of pain. Stanford pushed people aside, knocking over drinks and scattering empty bottles. He was prepared to climb the damn cage when a strong arm looped around his waist and pulled him back. One of the bouncers. He was let go and shoved back behind a faded red line drawn around the ring. A man at his side, drunk off his ass, stumbled with him.

“Hey, gringo. You gotta stay back, or they’ll kick you out. Don’t worry, your money’s on Pedro, you’ll win.”

Stanford just turned back to the cage.

Stan was winded. But so was Pedro. The kid had an arm wrapped around Stan’s neck, free hand flying repeatedly into Stan’s chest and gut. But Stan jerked Pedro’s leg to the side, sending the kid wobbling back. Sta was on the defensive. Only fighting back when the kid caught him. The kid was trying to get him in a headlock, but Stan weighed more. He leaned and threw them both to the floor. He used the opportunity to pin Pedro’s arm. The kid had no leverage. Stan’s elbow came down on the kid’s nose. A sickening crack. Stan let go and stood with a stumble, taking position again.

Pedro charged, leaning away from Stan’s swing and barreling headlong into Stan’s left side. His blind side. Stan’s back connected with the cage. He was cornered. Pedro pummeled him, fists flying to any place they would land. Face, neck, chest, gut. Stan sagged. And audible crack cut through the fervor.

Stan’s knuckles connected with Pedro’s temple. It was the window he was waiting for. Stan returned each blow with one of his own. Four more to the temple. One to the left side of his jaw, then the right. A swift uppercut to the gut. Stan alternated between high and low jabs, leaving Pedro little opportunity to block. One punch to Pedro’s jaw slid further, cracking across the bridge of his broken nose.

The ref rang the bell, but neither fighter stepped back. Punches flying every half second, Blood dripping from noses. Neither one was bothering to block anymore. Fists came undone and fingers clawed at skin. Nails scratching gouges.

A hand wrapped around the rainbow threads and jerked. But a flash of pink light pushed it back. Shouts from the ref called forwards two man with cattle prods. The poles were slid through the gaps in the cage nearest the two fighters. Stan turned, pushing Pedro into the sparking pole. A scream. The smell of searing flesh. But they just backed further into the center of the ring. Just out of reach.

Fingers dug into a throat and clamped down. More retaliated with pressure to an eye. Knuckles connecting with teeth and jaws.

Bets had stopped. No one knew who to bet on. Shouts and barking and camera’s snapping pictures.

Stanford’s heart was in is throat. He couldn’t swallow, let alone breathe. His ears rang with white noise, not comprehending the sounds echoing in the dingy warehouse. Blood and sweat flung off the two fighters. Four men with cattle prods circled the cage in hopes that they would come close enough to break it up. Every so often the ref would walk around and ring the bell. He may as well have been waving a banner for all the good it did.

But it was nearing the end now. They weren’t going to last much longer. One last punch. One last connection between knuckles and bruised tissue. It was over.

A body hit the floor with a sickening thud. The crowd fell silent. Blood filled wheezing could be heard from the lump on the floor. The referee shouted something in Spanish, smashing the bell against the cage to amplify the sound. The victor pulled away from the lump to stumble back to the center of the ring. Huffing. Knees weak. Blood flowing freely from his nose. That fucker gave him a hell of a beating.

Stanford was beside the referee in seconds, pushing past him the moment the lock was disengaged. He ignored the shouts from the referee even as the man tried to grab him and pull him back. He twisted out of the grip on his hood and entering the cage. Two steps in, he was beside the lump. Blood splattered around it on the wood dais. The wheezing was intense so near. It was wet, blood and saliva dripping from the parted mouth.

Stanford spared barely a moment beside the lump, racing past and across the ring to his brother. Stan was hunched, legs shaky and hardly holding him vertical. Stanford’s arms were around him instantly, wrapping him in a crushing hug.

“Fuck! Fucking hell! I thought you were dead for sure. God! Don’t ever do that again, you sick bastard!”

Stanford’s words were mouthed against Stan’s jaw and ear. His fingers threading through the sweat damp hair at the back of Stan’s head. He felt more than heard Stan chuckle, the rumble of his voice sending little vibrations against his jaw.

“Heh…I’m alright…nerd. Not outta…the game yet.” He huffed. Stan’s laugh dissolved into wet coughs. Stanford held him tighter, bracing as Stan hung onto his body for support. He only pulled back when Stan winced. He wrapped Stan’s arm across his shoulders, doing his best to hold Stan’s weight. Stan leaned into him, ignoring the blood dripping from his nose smudging over the blue fabric of Stanford’s jacket.

The ref just stood, dumbfounded, holding the cage door open as they stumbled down the steps. The crowd parted and Stanford’s eyes zeroed in on an empty bench. He pushed Stan towards it, ignoring the stares and hushed murmurs following him.

Stan let gravity do the work as he sat, leaning back and to the side to ease the pain in his ribs. The dim light hid much of the damage. But it was bad. Even Stan’s latent healing was going to take time to fix this. That was if his injuries didn’t kill him first. Stanford was running his fingers down Stan’s sides, feeling the cracked ribs and wondering if they needed wrapping when someone tapped his shoulder. A young kid, far too young to be in a place like this, held out a water bottle to him, wide eyed and awestruck. He took it with a nod, squeezing it to check for leaks and tampering. He smiled at the kid when the lid made a crack when he opened it. Stan snagged it from him, hand only partly unwrapped, and downed it in four large gulps. They ignored the men climbing into the ring to tend to Pedro.

The owner was ecstatic. Nearly everyone had bet against Stan to win, and the house had raked in a killing. He’d come over to them after the match to congratulate Stan on his marvelous victory. “Beast you are, huh? Haven’t seen a fight like that in a while. Think Pedro’s out for a while. I’ll send someone over with your money.”

A man and an armed guard approached them while Stanford helped Stan back into his shirt. He spoke to Stan in rapid-fire Spanish, going back and forth a bit before he pulled out a fat envelope from his jacket. The man counted it out slowly, enunciating each bill amount as he went. $1,000,000 pesos. Just over $300 U.S. dollars. Substantially less than what was promised. But Stanford wasn't going to argue with a rifle hung at low ready. It seemed Stan wasn't too keen on it either; he grumbled, but took the envelope and stuffed it into his shirt pocket.

Stan raised an eyebrow when the money guy handed Stanford a second envelope stuffed with crumpled bills. $10 U.S. dollars pick-pocketed off some snobby tourist bet on a 10 to 1 odds became $333,325 pesos. It wasn’t much, but was enough to get them supplies and to get Stan the hell out of Colombia. Not bad for a night’s work.

Stan shot him a devilish grin when he tucked his own winnings away. But there wasn’t much time to discuss anything as their bags were tossed at them and they were promptly escorted out of the back door. A voice rang out after them in both Spanish and English: “Get the Fuck outta here! You come back, you die!”

Stan just waved. Leaning heavily into Stanford and limping as the bruised muscles in his side spasmed.

“You bet on me? Thought you said it was a stupid idea.”

“It was. You can barely stand. But it wasn't like I was going to bet against you.”

“Where’d you get the money?”

“Remember the man from the inn?”

“No, you didn’t!”

“You aren’t the only one with quick fingers.”

“HA! Knew you had some rebel in ya!”

“Yes, well, we can celebrate after we get someplace safe.” Stanford fished out his phone to call Maxi again. The cab driver was quickly becoming their new best friend.

“Yeah, think the only reason we walked outta there was because the house won a shit ton.”

*~*

They didn’t go back to the Refugio El Santuario. Not willing to explain how they had come into so much money so quickly. Instead, they had Maxi drive them to the Ribai, bit further south on the main strip along the coast. Not as ritzy, but hey, a pool and room service were classy enough.

They paid in cash. Stanford excusing his ‘drunk brother’, claiming the blood was caused by an overzealous bar fight. The clerk just shook his head and passed them the key card.

There was an elevator, Thank Christ, that took them to the third floor. Stanford unlocked the room with the provided keycard and stepped in, nudging Stan to wobble to one of the neatly made beds. The soft white sheets and mattress give under his weight as he flops back.

“Ow. Ow Ow Ow. Everything hurts. Bathroom’s yours first. I don’t think I could shower just yet. You signed us in using pseudonyms, right?”

“Yes. I am aware of…your…history. I felt it was appropriate to use a bit of caution.” Stanford walked the perimeter of the room, fiddling with the mechanism strapped to his wrist.

“Hey, Nerdbrain. I get you wanna ‘secure the area’ but you haven’t slept in almost a day. Door’s locked and there’s a secondary lock. Only thing we’re in danger of is getting bedbugs.”

“You’re right.” Stanford’s shoulders slumped as his body lost much of its tension. He removed his jacket, draping it over the nearest chair and sitting down on the free bed to remove his boots.

The sweater came next, black sleeveless undershirt covering his torso. A quick use of the crystal and flashlight and Stanford was opening his medical bag. He cleaned off the blood dripping down Stan’s face. Something he had done more often over the years than he was willing to remember. The suture kit put to the side when the cut on Stan’s cheek closed on its own. Instead, he spent the time cleaning and disinfecting the scrapes and gouges left behind from Pedro’s attack. Stan hissing as the alcohol touched his skin. But he said nothing. Neither of them did. Stanford worked meticulously, smiling faintly when he eyes caught Stan’s. His glasses and eyepatch still tucked in Stanford’s jacket.

He was cleaning the blood from Stan’s hand now. Working the alcohol-soaked cloth under his fingernails. Stan shook it loose from his grasp and ran his fingers over his cheek. Once again tracing the line branded there.

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself.”

“I’m sorry I scared ya.”

Stanford sighed at Bill’s words. “No, you’re not. You were going to do it anyway.”

“Yeah, but I still didn’t want to scare ya. And I wasn't gonna let you try either.” Stan’s fingers had drifted lower, passing along his jaw and resting, curled, against his neck. White skin stark against the faint dark band.

“Bill…”

“I’m NOT him, Stanford.” Stan sighed; all fight draining out of him. He was too tired to fight about this anymore. He just wanted to sleep. “I use ta be. Not anymore. Don’t wanna be anymore. Don’t wanna hurt ya.” Stan swallowed down his next words. He wasn't sure if they were real. They felt real. But there were a lot of things that had felt real that turned out to not be.

“How can I know that for sure? You’ve tricked me before.” Stanford was still looking at him. Eyes still soft. He hadn’t left yet. And that gave Stan hope.

“I guess ya can’t. But I’m still askin’.” He shouldn’t. It was too much to ask of his beautiful Sixer. But Ford was right, he was selfish. He wanted things to be alright between them. They’d been friends. More. He wanted that. He was sure Sixer wanted that too. But trust. Trust was a hard thing to piece back together once broken. It wasn't like Stan had broken it intentionally. I wasn’t even his fault this time. Just some memories old and dusty memories from a dead life that he didn’t want to be a part of anymore. He was past that. He wanted to be past it so badly.

“Let me prove it. Give me a chance ta prove it.”

Stanford lifted the hand by his neck, holding it between his own. Fingers curled loosely around each other. Fingerprints tracing over black scars.

Soft, salt chapped lips brushed against Stan’s jaw. Forehead pressed to his temple. Stanford breathed.

“Okay.”

First Chapter

#whole again #Stancest #same coin theory #fanfiction #Stanley pines #Stanford Pines

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nahasnine · 2 years ago

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30 foot grumman canoes for sale

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metnaco · 2 years ago

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Eco-Friendly Composite Materials

There has been increasing global action towards sustainable development in recent times. The impact of industrialization has led to generation of much manufacturing waste with a heavy negative impact on the environment;. Modern industries, industries, are becoming committed to employing more eco-friendly practices in their production. These practices cut across production, packaging, and delivery across diverse industries. Modern research into eco-friendly materials is allowing for turning various aspects of industrial and commercial practices into more environmentally friendly practices. Composite materials result from combining at least two different elements with distinct chemical and physical properties. The product of this combination is usually performs specific functions, such as resisting tensile loads. In older times, traditional composite materials found use in construction, boat-making, and pottery. The 1900s witnessed the creation and popularity of various forms of plastic in diverse industries. Polymer composites became increasingly common among manufacturers due to their affordability and broad applicability. Composite materials may also be lighter, stronger, and more durable than the base materials. Generally, composite materials may be natural or synthetic. Wood, a natural composite, is biodegradable and environmentally friendly. However, this isn’t the same for many composite materials, so the development of more eco-friendly composites has become an increasing concern. Modern research aims to incorporate natural fibers in creating polymeric composite materials known as biocomposites. Biocomposites combine a matrix material and natural fibers to yield a biodegradable material. Agricultural products and byproducts like cotton and recycled wood are the sources of natural fibers in biocomposites that are not only cheaper but also recyclable and ideal for the environment. The development of biocomposites has garnered increased attention in recent years. Polymer and synthetic-based composites can be harmful to the environment in their life-cycle. Thus, green composites are alternatives to more conventional composites such as those reinforced with glass fibers, with increasing appeal in manufacturing, packaging, and other economic sectors. These materials are also stronger, lighter, require less maintenance or upkeep, and are corrosion-resistant, benefiting manufacturers while satisfying consumer needs. Efforts are being made in the composite industry to employ eco-friendly materials in various applications such as car production. These practices are more sustainable than using more traditional materials such as steel as composites require more energy to make; they are also lighter and benefit the energy-efficiency of vehicles. Composites provide a much longer lifespan when compared with steel, and do not require nearly as much replacement. In recent times, there have also been efforts to recycle composites through processes like pyrolysis, milling, and shredding. Also, in food packaging, green composites have become more popular. Instead of sealing packages with plastic, biodegradable, renewable paperboards are now in use as effective and ideal alternatives. This change reduces the environmental impact of packaging to an immense degree. While these materials are more expensive than traditional plastics, technology in this area continues to advance. Biocomposites have also impacted the world of construction. Green materials in buildings and transportation infrastructure have become more popular in creating an eco-friendly built environment. Both structural and non-structural parts of buildings now incorporate biocomposites, such as roof structural components, windows, roof tiles, pipes, floor slabs, and door frames. Composites are also useful in the rehabilitation and repair of structural components.

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alharthfiber · 2 years ago

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ask-de-writer · 6 years ago

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GONE TO SEA : World of Sea : Science Fiction : Part 6

GONE TO SEA

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

WORK IN PROGRESS (Word count unknown at this time)

Writing started 2005

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

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Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights. They may reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information remains intact. They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions. All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

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Chapter 03. The Search

Mr. Torres had the meeting chair. “It is now six months since the ESA 14 left us here. It is time for public progress reports.

“The first order of business is, unfortunately not a matter of progress. As many of you know, Mister Marcus Angerson has been removed from his post as the Station's School Master. He was caught violating the Colony Charter's Freedom of Religion and Conscience clause. The jury in his trial, only hours ago, returned a verdict of guilty of Charter violation. Along with that he was also found guilty of physical and mental child abuse.

“As we hear the various committee reports, I also want you all to think of persons to nominate for the post of School Master. That out of the way, let us get on to better things.

“We know that what we need to survive is here on Sea somewhere. The documentation is clear. This biosphere can support us, if we can isolate the particular organic compounds that we need. We have been testing everything, including the coral stones in the shallows.

“Search committee one, free swimming marine animals. What is your report?”

Tall, lanky and very Polynesian, Hugh Barant stood and consulted his data files. “The long and short of it is simple. We haven’t found everything that we need for survival.

“In the liver of Strong’s shark, that multi-tonne monster with the doubled dorsal fins with a leading edge slashing spine, we have located the entire B complex of vitamins along with so much vitamin A that the liver is toxic. The meat has enough of most of the vitamins and many minerals that it is a significant source for them. It tastes good, cooks and even preserves well.

“We have found one and one source only, so far, for Vitamin C. The red colored floating weed in the big mats, where all the birds nest, has slightly less than five grams per dried ton. The problem there is that the mass difference between a fresh batch and a dried one is over fifty to one. Too much work for too little gain. We hope to find something with better yields.

“Vitamin D can be produced in sufficient quantities by simply sunbathing.

“Vitamins E and K remain a problem. They have been found in trace amounts in various organisms. We have good hope for finding them in significant quantities if we simply keep looking.

“We found significant portions of nearly all of the minerals we need in an assortment of fish as well. The Skelton’s Sardine has a calcium carbonate/calcium phosphate skeleton and possesses significant amounts of other necessary minerals. It is another one that tastes reasonably good and packs and stores well.

“The amino acids are the real stumbling block. We haven’t found any organism that uses either thymine or lysine. The signatures were spotted from orbit but only erratically. We know that they’re here, probably in organisms that only surface occasionally.

“What I can say with some confidence is, they are not coded for in the genetic makeup of any mobile organism tested so far. The local DNA type of molecule uses a different setup from ours altogether. The result is proteins that use some different amino acids. We can eat most of the local animals and plants safely enough, you all know that. They just won't support us for long. If we relied only on local resources, we would die of malnutrition with full bellies.

“On a more somber note, Miles Ordman was killed by simply touching a specimen that has since been named the Ordman cod, in his honor. I am projecting a picture on the screen for you now. This fish is the single most toxic thing that anyone on my team has ever heard of. Careful remote dissection and sampling has revealed that it is totally infused with a fast acting neurotoxin. It causes a total collapse of the nervous system, both autonomic and sensory. The nerves lose the ability to transmit and the patient dies from any of the multiple failures that result. We have not found an antidote.

“To balance that, we have found something amusing, if not of much value. A genetic analysis of every bird that we have been able to catch verifies that they are fish. That's right, greatly modified but still fish. In fact, if our testing methods apply to so different a DNA, it appears that they changed from swimming to flying only a few thousand years ago. Our best estimate is roughly five to ten thousand years.” He sat.

Pele Barant, Hugh's wife, represented the Mechanical and Structural Engineering department. She told the assembled Station management, “First, and most important, my department, working alongside the Organic Chemistry department, has succeeded in repairing the reverse osmosis desalination plant. We now believe from analysis of the damage to it that it was sabotaged by a person or persons unknown.

“As a backup plan, we have built test units for solar distillation. It appears that solar stills will be able to support the Station's fresh water needs if the desalination plant gets damaged beyond repair in a future event.

“On a better note, we are getting useful amounts of lighter metals directly from the sea water. The only difficulty lies in the old problem of corrosion. Aluminum, magnesium and their various alloys will only last for a few years as structural materials, long enough to be useful but not really a good result.

“We can use replaceable magnesium tabs attached to aluminum structures to protect them from corrosion but the tabs have to be inspected and replaced regularly. It is also possible to coat structures with resin paints made from local materials. Like the magnesium tabs, the paints need to be inspected and replaced or touched up an a regular basis. If they are exposed to sunlight, ultraviolet will degrade most of the coatings fairly swiftly. It looks like a few years is the best protective life that we can expect, whichever system we use.

“Of the metals that we can extract locally, Titanium is still the only one that is durable. Besides being available in only small amounts, its high flammability when improperly heated or melted and the near impossibility of extinguishing a titanium fire presents uniquely dangerous working characteristics in the environment of Sea.

“Of local materials, one of the most useful has been the Strong's shark. If the skin is properly dried, it takes a micro-porous structure that is very useful for filters in many applications. Once cured, it will filter seawater prior to reverse osmosis purification and desalination. It has another widely useful application as air filters to keep out all of that pesky airborne plankton. The air that you are breathing now has been filtered by Strong's shark skin.

“We can make a pretty good Concrete in very useful quantities out of the abundant coral sand. It only has one drawback. Many organisms on the reefs appear to think that it is a fine snack. Constant vigilance and repair is necessary for any submerged structure made of it.

“Paradoxically, the concrete makes fine small boats for many applications. We can use aluminum alloy mesh for reinforcing and trowel the concrete into the mesh. Once it sets we can remove it from the form and make another boat just as easily. We only have to haul them out and dry them off about once a week to prevent the local organisms from damaging the boats. That does limit the application to smaller boats but we do need a lot of small boats.

“I am sort of walking on the Organic Chemistry team's report with the next item. The plastic resins that they have figured out work really well in many applications. Fiberglass is our biggest success story. We have both small and large boats under construction. Two of them are planned to be small ships twenty meters long with two masts. They will all have to be sailing vessels for now. We still have no access to oil or other materials that we can process for reasonably safe portable fuels.

“If the sailing boats perform as well as we hope, many more can be built. A mold has already been made for the production of hulls for a twenty five foot, uh, pardon that, 7.62 meter boat. It is to be equipped for both rowing and sailing.

“The major limit to fiberglass is that all available silicates to make the glass fibers from have to be imported from the moons. Wotan in particular is a good source. Every time that the Slowpoke shuttle can be charged for a flight, besides the metal ores that are our primary goal, it brings us a few more tonnes of silicate rocks that will process to glass with better than 90% efficiency. Some of the volcanic stone that has been found already is glass. We only have to melt and process it for our needs.” Pele Barant sat.

Gunther Halin stood to give the report of the Organic Chemistry Department's Bio-safety and Nutrition section.

“Like most of you, we have had mostly good fortune. Nothing else as deadly as the Ordman cod has turned up. The majority of the seaweeds are to some degree edible. We have not found any of them that are poisonous. The majority of edible seaweed species are not of much use. Nutritionally they are basically useless. A few have proved to be quite tasty and some have an assortment of medicinal values. A table of those properties has been posted to the station's net and will be updated as we get new information.

“In particular, the one that has got the common name of gray weed is not only tasty in salads, it forms a somewhat stiff gelatin-like binder for loose foods if mixed in, pressed and heated gently. Some few will have a religious objection to its use, so we advise labeling to identify any such products.

“The medicinal use of the raw gray weed is simple. It harmlessly and reversibly shuts down the production of eggs in female humans and sperm production in male humans. It is a great contraceptive.

“Another thing that was a mild disappointment is the common Haggers ammonite. All species have a copper based blood and bodily fluids that have proved to be mildly toxic. They also possess some fairly toxic venoms that anesthetize the bite or sting location. As a result, they need careful handling. Some species have hard, nacreous shells that are pretty and there are some free-swimming ones that have been observed in the multi-tonne size range that have a shell that appears to be a form of cartilage.

“On the plus side, all of the forms of mussel-like shellfish are not only edible, many are quite tasty. They are easily found and even raised.

“We also have a mildly humorous tale. The Moreson's eel, a common fish averaging twenty to sixty centimeters long, tested as marginally edible with some useful lipids.

“The attempt to cook it was, for practical purposes, a disaster. On frying in a pan, the fish simply came apart into two layers that set on cooling. The upper layer was stiff oily goo and the lower layer was a hard junk that had all of the bones and those parts of the fins and skin that didn't melt. We couldn't even scrape or chip it out of the pan. Trying to boil the fish gave a similar result, with hot water between the layers. We wound up putting the whole works into recycle. On a side note, it all tastes ghastly. We haven't found any use for the fish at all. Except for ruining pans and pots.”

TO BE CONTINUED

<==PREVIOUS NEXT==>

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to World of Sea

#GONE TO SEA #World of Sea #Science Fiction #written by Glen TenEyck #Part 6

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mechanicswichita · 3 years ago

Link

Best Auto Detailing Service and Cost in Wichita KS |A1 Mobile Mechanics Of Wichita

More Information is at:http://mobilemechanicwichitakansas.org/auto-detailing-service-near-me/

Auto Detailing Service near Wichita KS: Are you looking for the BestAuto Detailing Service near Wichita KS ? A1 Mobile Mechanics Of Wichita, professional detailing service that gives you more than a basic car wash and vacuum. Also of importance is how our pro detailers have an obsessive attention to detail and are never afraid of applying the elbow grease needed for the most in-depth cleaning of your vehicle’s nooks and crannies. Cost? Free estimates! Send us a message or call us today. Best Auto Detailing Service around Wichita KS. We serve Wichita KSand other areas. Get a Free Quote Now!

BEST AUTO DETAILING SERVICE IN WICHITA KS

WICHITAAUTO DETAILING

Auto Detailing Service in Wichita KS

Auto Detailing Service near Wichita KS: Now is the perfect time of the year for Auto Detailing Service inWichita KS region. Gain peace of mind with professional detailing service that gives you more than a basic car wash and vacuum. At A1 Mobile Mechanics Of Wichita, we know precisely how to systematically use equipment and chemicals on interior carpets and upholstery as well as premium paint jobs. Also of importance is how our pro detailers have an obsessive attention to detail and are never afraid of applying the elbow grease needed for the most in-depth cleaning of your vehicle’s nooks and crannies. When you bring your vehicle to A1 Mobile Mechanics Of Wichita for Detailing Service, you know that you will leave with a car as close as possible to its showroom cleanliness, shine, and smell.

Benefits of Auto Detailing Service

Auto Detailing Service near Wichita KS: At A1 Mobile Mechanics Of Wichita, we know from years of experiencing providing detailing service on vehicles just like yours that there are additional benefits of auto detailing & cleaning far beyond a shiny paint job and a pleasant-smelling cabin; there are several other benefits that some of our favorite customers don’t consider. However, atA1 Mobile Mechanics Of Wichita, we would like to share with you all of the tremendous benefits of Detailing Service that are often overlooked:

● Protect Resale Value – if you want to resell the car eventually, you should know that used auto dealers will inspect the vehicle thoroughly before making a purchase; professional detailing service is a fantastic way of promoting higher resale value in the used car market

● Retain attractiveness – professional detailing service can restore your vehicle’s showroom allure. Most owners do not have the training, experience, nor the patience for the deep cleaning that we will provide.

● Pro detailer attention – our pro detailers will go over every inch of your vehicle with the attention to detail of a surgeon. The benefit is a thorough assessment of your entire vehicle that often reveals areas in need of repair or repainting.

Springtime is the Right Time for Detailing Service

Exiting a cold winter season often means that a vehicle weathered some snow, sleet, water, mud, salt, sand, and whatever else gets inside the vehicle onto the carpets using shoes as a VIP pass. If you have children, then we already know exactly how much undesirable debris can get inside the cabin over the winter. This situation makes Springtime the perfect time for a Detailing Service. Detailing Service includes vacuuming & Shampooing, Complete Interior, Exterior Wash, Compounding & Waxing the Exterior.

Engine – Detailing

Engine detailing can range from a simple cleaning of an oil leak to a show quality reconditioning of the engine as well as the engine compartment. In the latter case, components are removed as well as refinished. Your engine is never sprayed with a can of Gunk, blasted with steam, or doused with Armor All. This is a great way to end up with a clean engine that doesn’t start. Rather, each crevice is cleaned with soft brushes and gentle cleaners which are appropriate for the materials in your engine. The result; your engine will look like the day it was built. We also offer custom carbon fiber pieces that are specially built for any car make and model.

Commitment To Performance

We design custom high end audio system setups specifically for the acoustics of your vehicle. Every vehicle contains their own DNA of acoustics, derived from the design, layout and materials used in the interior. This will dictate the proper components used for a particular system, which in turn will produce the pure, rich sound you demand.

Auto Detailing Services

Cigarette Burn Repair

Cigarette Burn Repair – Interior upholstery can be repaired when cigarette ashes land on seats or carpets. Accidents happen but why should that ruin an interiors look or stop you from buying or selling a less than perfect auto. Most damage can be corrected with a perfect color match.

Motorcycle Detailing

Motorcycle detailing includes:

● Hand wash buff

● Polish chrome

● Add advanced polymer sealant

● Leather conditioning

Rv’s And Boats

Recreational vehicle & boat detailing includes:

● Exterior wash and wax

● Gutter rails and top of RV’s fully cleaned.

● Interior cleaning and shampooing as well

Interior / Exterior Steam Cleaning

Steam Cleaning – This service is for neighborhoods with intense water restrictions, parking garages and areas where traditional hand washing isn’t allowed.

Gold Vehicle Detail Package

Exterior

● Complete hand wash, prep and clay surfaces

● Compound, and buff paint to correct minor imperfections

● Apply polymer paint sealant (9-12 months protection)

● Apply Cherry Wet Wax (up to 3 months extra protection)

● Condition tires and trim

Interior

● Vacuum and air purge interior

● Clean headliner, dashboard, console and door panels

● Spot clean seating surfaces and carpets

● Detail cracks and crevices, condition vinyl and leather

● Clean windows, mirrors, gauges and chrome

● Apply interior fragrance (upon request only)

Carpet Dying

Carpet Dying is great for repairing stains like bleach and coffee stains. Our carpet dyeing service is perfect for repairing those stains and more. If just color rejuvenation is needed for faded carpets, our carpet dyeing service is the perfect choice!

TIPS

Auto Detailing Service near Wichita KS:

● Use a wet-dry vacuum to suck out as much water from carpeted mats to accelerate drying.

● Use a soft long-bristle artist’s paintbrush or makeup brush to get into small crevices, such as air conditioning vents. A spritz of furniture polish on the brush will improve dust removal.

● Spray your cleanser of choice on a microfiber cloth, then use the cloth to clean the surface. This prevents overspray and drips.

● Always clean from top to bottom, because loosened dust and dirt fall – gravity is great that way.

● Use a stiff brush to agitate the carpet just ahead of where you’re vacuuming to get even more dirt out of it.

● If your doors have upper window frames, roll the windows down a few inches and clean the top edge of the glass, first. Then, roll the windows up and clean the rest of the glass.

● If you clean the wheels last, you might splash road grime to the body of a clean car.

● Warm up the engine a few minutes to help the degreaser work better.

● Detailing clay also works great on wheels, glass, and chrome, too, but never use a clay bar on rubber, plastic, or polycarbonate.

● Use masking tape to protect plastic and rubber trim, emblems, headlights, and marker lights.

COST

Average Car Detailing Prices: How Do Your Prices Compare?

Auto Detailing Service near Wichita KS: For professional detailers or detailing business owners, setting your car detailing prices is one of the biggest challenges. Are your car detailing prices reflective of the averages within your city, state, or even across the country? If you want to make more money as a detailing business, you need to charge your customers the right price. If your detailing services are priced too low, you’re leaving money on the table. But if your prices are too high, you might lose customers to your competition.

Once you find the right price, you might need to know more about how to convince your customers to pay a higher price. Many detailers use an estimating app to help them create consistent pricing and justify their prices to customers.

Skim through the research below compiled byA1 Mobile Mechanics Of Wichita. You can compare the prices you’ve set for your business against the averages across the country and even your state and city.

New to this site?A1 Mobile Mechanics Of Wichita provides tools and resources to help detailing and auto recon professionals start and grow their businesses. Learn more aboutA1 Mobile Mechanics Of Wichita and why thousands of business owners have tried our #1 app for detailing.

National Average Price for Car Detailing

The average detailing price around the country is $160.16. The range of average prices for car detailing in the US is $114.59 on the low end and $213.67 on the high end.

Average Car Detailing Prices per State

The state with the highest average price for detailing is Oregon with an average price of $258. The range in this state is $186.67 on the low end and $296 on the high end.

The state with the lowest average price for detailing is Hawaii, with an average price of $90.50. Hawaii’s range of detailing prices starts at $55.50 on the low end and $270 on the high end.

States to the right of the national average charge more than we would expect based on their cost of living. States to the left of the national average charges less than expected based on their cost of living.

If you live in a state to the left of the national average, it might make sense to charge higher detail prices. This can help you catch up with the national average and adjustments for cost of living.

Car Detailing Packages

Car detailing Calgary Our most popular detail service is the Executive level detail interior and exterior. This service takes one technician approximately 5 man hours (depending on condition of the vehicle) and generally costs $299 + GST. For vehicles with extra seating (minivans and larger SUV’s), this is generally $359 + GST and takes approximately 7 man hours.

VIP Auto Detail

Exterior

● all Executive exterior services, plus

● detail/dress wheels and tires

● dress wheel wells (trucks, SUV’s)

● steam-clean/detail engine compartment

● dress all exterior vinyl/rubber surfaces

● polish chrome surfaces

● clay all exposed painted surfaces

● machine polish exterior paint

● wax/seal paint

Interior

● all Executive interior services, plus

● shampoo/hot extraction cloth seats

● shampoo/hot extract carpets and floor mats

● dress all rubber and vinyl surfaces

● fabric protection on cloth surfaces

Prices

Category 1 Category 2 Category 3

Interior $375 (5 hours) $410 (5.5 hours) $450 (6 hours)

Exterior $375 (5 hours) $410 (5.5 hours) $450 (6 hours)

Interior & Exterior $629 (9 hours) $699 (10 hours) $769 (11 hours)

Interior &

Executive Exterior $469 (6 hours) $529 (7 hours) $599 (8 hours)

Important Notes

● All prices do not include GST

● Larger vehicles (Suburban, 3/4 ton trucks, Excursions, etc. ) will be quoted slightly higher.

● Special conditions (pet hair, excessive dirt, blood, scratches, etc.) will be quoted in addition to above.

● Special services such as headlight refinishing, extra services for wheels and glass and other chrome are available and will be quoted in addition to above.

● All times listed are total man hours and are dependent on vehicle condition.

FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS

What is Detailing?

Detailing is a specialized process of keeping your vehicle appearance as close to showroom condition as possible. Our aim is to have your car looking the way it did when you drove it off the lot.

How often should I detail my car?

Consider detailing your car whenever you get your oil changed or twice a year to promote optimal car health. Detailing depends on the wear and tear of your car and your expectations of how you want your vehicle to look. Detailing increases your car resale value and appearance and expands the overall life of your vehicle.

Why should I choose detailing versus just washing my own car?

Detailing does more than merely clean your car. It preserves and in some cases restores its original condition through professional thorough processes involving bug, tar, sap, lime removal, tire and rim treatment, interior leather and vinyl conditioning, carpet and headliner shampooing, wet sanding, waxing and applied protectants that keep your car's paint job looking like it just arrived in the showroom.. Moreover, regular detailing extends the life of your car, maintains safety and integrity of your vehicle and actually adds to its value.

How long does the detail take?

Our Full detailing services can take between 6 – 10 hours depending on the type, size & condition of your car. Please plan on leaving your vehicle with us for one full day and overnight until the following morning. Our Premium detail or a vehicle that requires extra attention on the interior or multiple stages of polishing on the exterior may take up to a few days. A specific estimate will be provided the day of your appointment.

May I drop off my car the day before my scheduled appointment ?

Yes, your car is safely locked in our secure garage overnight. We prefer to wash & prep your car the day before which allows our technicians to start work on your car early the next morning. Drop off times are preferred the day before any time before 3:00 pm if possible. If not you can always schedule for a morning drop off at 8 am.

What are the benefits of auto detailing my vehicle?

Auto detailing is probably the best and most valuable maintenance program for your vehicle. Car detailing is an important single process that covers a wide variety of techniques and products which, to get the best results, require considerable skill to apply. It is considered an efficient renovation and protection of the various surfaces of a vehicle to keep it working in good condition.

How often should a vehicle be detailed?

It is usually when selling a vehicle that most people consider detailing. But, by that time (an average of 5 years) the vehicle has too much wear and tear to restore it to a new condition. That's why we urge our customers to think of auto detailing as a maintenance program the same as changing the fluids, getting a tune-up or rotating the tires. Most people don't realize that in most cases, it is less expensive to replace the engine than to replace a "factory paint job"! We recommend at least 2 to 5 times a year depending on your driving and car washing habits and how you store your vehicle. Is it parked inside or outside most of the time? Do you wash it every other day or maybe only once a month? How do you wash it? Do you spend so much time in your vehicle that you feel like it's your home? These are just some of the determining factors that we consider in recommending what maintenance schedule is best for you.

When is the most critical time to get my car detailed?

Don't forget the winter months are the most crucial time to detail due to the rapid changes in temperature, road construction, salt and other elements that are especially hard on your vehicle's exterior. Not to mention that the Magnesium Chloride they are using on the roads these days is proving to be even more harmful than we thought to the exposed surfaces of your car. While it's easy to rationalize that "it's just going to get dirty again anyway", properly applied sealant is your only defense! Plus it makes it easier to wash off all that harmful grime.

Do you have service packages available if I want my vehicle detailed more often?

Yes, after your first detailing, we would be glad to design an auto detailing Maintenance Plan specifically for your vehicle.

CALL FOR US:

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● Car Detailing Price List

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BEST AUTO DETAILING SERVICE IN WICHITA KS

A1 MOBILE MECHANICS OF WICHITA

REQUEST MORE INFORMATION. CONTACT US NOW!

A1 Mobile Mechanics of Wichita

24-hour mobile mechanic roadside assistance services in Wichita, KS!

CALL: (316) 201-9247 MOBILE MECHANIC

WEBSITE: www.mobilemechanicwichitakansas.org

Service Area:

55 Cities within 30 miles of Wichita, KS:

ZIP CODES:

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magneticfieldsplit · 4 years ago

Text

Shipbuilding during 3000 BC used to be very simple

Shipbuilding during 3000 BC used to be very simple, with wooden planks sewn with woven straps and assembled together to form what they call the Abydos boats. Treenails and tenon joints were also used by the early Egyptians to fasten the wooden planks together. Considering the ancient methods of ship building and inspection, it is still perplexing how the ancient conquerors and navigators like Alexander the Great were able to navigate around the world while keeping their ships in one piece.A country's shipbuilding industry has an important role not just in commerce but also in politics. After all, a nation has to support its own trade and navy by manufacturing and repairing ships. This should explain why almost all industrial countries like Japan, the United States and even China have very modern shipbuilding industries that utilize modern technology such as the one offered by the Faro Arm.While the Jones Act in the US has not prevailed in penalizing inefficiencies in shipbuilding, shipbuilding companies are turning to modern inventions like the Faro Arm to make sure that their ships are 80a latching relay constructed efficiently and cost effectively. After all, the shipbuilding industry is no longer just relegated to manufacturing ships for trade, but also to manufacturing yachts and sailboats for leisure and pleasure.Boat building has never been more streamlined with the use of the Faro Arm which can easily check the shapes of fiber glass, align drive shafts or inspect sailboat 2D or even 3D designs. A racing yacht's side walls can now be properly measured with the use of the Faro Arm. The Faro Arm has become an imperative tool in modern boat construction and ship building and the manufacturers have a lot of options including the Faro Laser Scanner Focus 3D, the Faro Laser Tracker Vantage and the other portable devices for CMM. The export industry is one of the industries heavily dependent on the technology offered by the various Faro Arms. These arms serve as precision measurement tools that are used by shipbuilders in the assembly of fishing boats, cruise ships and other marine vessels. The highest standard of shipbuilding quality is exercised with the help of the Faro Edge ScanArm, specifically when it comes to the fabrication of ship parts.No one can deny that reverse engineering stands to benefit from the technology brought about by the portable measuring tools like the Faro Arm. And no one will dispute that almost all the industries that keep the world economies evolving and sustaining, stand to benefit from the perfection of reverse engineering. With the precise 3D measurement technology offered by the Faro Arm, it is no surprise that it is now a lot easier to inspect shipbuilding components and verify the quality of shipbuilding products.

#80a latching relay

0 notes

lfsponge · 4 years ago

Text

mop for Yachts and Boats from lfsponge is a new type of boat mop cleaning Kit. It is made of compressed melamine sponge (high density, strong toughness, and good wear resistance). adopt Physical decontamination , its microfiber filaments can penetrate into the fine gaps on the surface of the object to deeply clean stubborn dirt. It is a simple-to-use mop for repairing scratches and deep cleaning. It will not cause scratch on glass fiber, glass, Plastic or painted surface. clean the water stains, dirt, rust stains, grease, mud, scum and abrasion of the deck hull to keep your boat as clean as new.this boat accessory is a boat detailing kit, the perfect tool to keep your boat looking its best.

Application: Clean the dirt and won’t scratch on the glass fiber, leather, vinyl, plastic, aluminum, gel coat and metal surface on the boat, it can also be used to mop decks, prevent water spots. Not only for marine, but also can be used for airplanes, surfboards, windsurfing boards, water skis or motor boats. OEM can produce according to the quantity, design and development required by customers.

#boat #marine #mop

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mobilemechanics45 · 4 years ago

Link

Best Auto Detailing Service and Cost in McAllen TX |Mobile Mechanics Of McAllen

More information is at: http://24hourmobileautorepairmcallen.org/auto-detailing-service-near-me/

Auto Detailing Service near McAllen TX: Are you looking for the Best Auto Detailing Service near McAllen TX ? Mobile Mechanics Of McAllen, professional detailing service that gives you more than a basic car wash and vacuum. Also of importance is how our pro detailers have an obsessive attention to detail and are never afraid of applying the elbow grease needed for the most in-depth cleaning of your vehicle’s nooks and crannies. Cost? Free estimates! Send us a message or call us today. Best Auto Detailing Service around McAllen TX. We serve McAllen TX and other areas. Get a Free Quote Now!

BEST AUTO DETAILING SERVICE IN MCALLEN TX

MCALLEN AUTO DETAILING

Auto Detailing Service in McAllen TX

Auto Detailing Service near McAllen TX: Now is the perfect time of the year for Auto Detailing Service in McAllen TX region. Gain peace of mind with professional detailing service that gives you more than a basic car wash and vacuum. At Mobile Mechanics Of McAllen, we know precisely how to systematically use equipment and chemicals on interior carpets and upholstery as well as premium paint jobs. Also of importance is how our pro detailers have an obsessive attention to detail and are never afraid of applying the elbow grease needed for the most in-depth cleaning of your vehicle’s nooks and crannies. When you bring your vehicle to Mobile Mechanics Of McAllen for Detailing Service, you know that you will leave with a car as close as possible to its showroom cleanliness, shine, and smell.

Benefits of Auto Detailing Service

Auto Detailing Service near McAllen TX: At Mobile Mechanics Of McAllen, we know from years of experiencing providing detailing service on vehicles just like yours that there are additional benefits of auto detailing & cleaning far beyond a shiny paint job and a pleasant-smelling cabin; there are several other benefits that some of our favorite customers don’t consider. However, at Mobile Mechanics Of McAllen, we would like to share with you all of the tremendous benefits of Detailing Service that are often overlooked:

Springtime is the Right Time for Detailing Service

Engine – Detailing

Commitment To Performance

Auto Detailing Services

Cigarette Burn Repair

Motorcycle Detailing

Motorcycle detailing includes:

● Hand wash buff

● Polish chrome

● Add advanced polymer sealant

● Leather conditioning

Rv’s And Boats

Recreational vehicle & boat detailing includes:

● Exterior wash and wax

● Gutter rails and top of RV’s fully cleaned.

● Interior cleaning and shampooing as well

Interior / Exterior Steam Cleaning

Steam Cleaning – This service is for neighborhoods with intense water restrictions, parking garages and areas where traditional hand washing isn’t allowed.

Gold Vehicle Detail Package

Exterior

● Complete hand wash, prep and clay surfaces

● Compound, and buff paint to correct minor imperfections

● Apply polymer paint sealant (9-12 months protection)

● Apply Cherry Wet Wax (up to 3 months extra protection)

● Condition tires and trim

Interior

● �� Vacuum and air purge interior

● Clean headliner, dashboard, console and door panels

● Spot clean seating surfaces and carpets

● Detail cracks and crevices, condition vinyl and leather

● Clean windows, mirrors, gauges and chrome

● Apply interior fragrance (upon request only)

Carpet Dying

TIPS

Auto Detailing Service near McAllen TX: