Craggy 2: Another Last Flight for Craggy by Gary Weston Page A

clearance, Skye?'
    Skye said, 'we couldn't make a workable injector as small as the old one. The working parts we use for our ships are larger and we haven't time to completely make everything from scratch. But I measured the opening and allowed what I thought was the best clearance for the complete thing.'
    'Ok. So obviously we can't make the opening any bigger. But the unit is as small as it can be and still allow us to put in our parts.'
    'Correct.'
    'And it will fit in.'
    'Thank you.'
    'But the dozer attachment won't. That's the problem. We need something that can handle the weight of the unit whilst it extends into the ship, but doesn't take up so much of the clearance.'
    Dillow said, 'I don't think there is anything, is there Craggy?'
    Cragg stood inside the ship, central to the problem. He closed one eye and focused on the space around the new injector. Then  he clambered down and got back on the dozer.
    Morcurry said, 'I'm right, ain't I Craggy? It won't go in.'
    'Your are absolutely right, Freddie, my old pal. Any idea where Shamini Singh is?'
    'Back of Base Eleven, levelling the ground for a laser cannon to be fitted.'
    Cragg worked the dozer radio. 'Shamini Singh. Can you hear me? This is Craggy. Shamini? Are you there, pal?'
    'Craggy. What's up?'
    'I got Freddie here. The dozer grabber is too big to get the new injector in.'
    'Yeah? We got no magic wands, Craggy.'
    'Me neither. The pod grabber. Where is it?'
    'Stripped. Being overhauled in the workshop.'
    'Excellent. The grabber arm. Still in one piece?'
    'Yes, last time I looked. Why?'
    'Because I want engineering to cobble it to the dozer.'
    Singh laughed. 'Good luck with that.'
    Cragg said, 'Screwy Driver. You there? You got five minutes?'
    'I heard, Craggy,' said Sam “Screwy” Driver, head of engineering. 'You want us to fit the pod grabber arm onto the dozer.'
    Cragg said, 'If you have a spare ten minutes.'
    'Impossible.'
    'Ok. Fifteen minutes, then.'
    The heavy sigh came back over the radio. 'The couplings are completely different. We would have to cut off the dozer arm, and weld in place a modified pod grabber arm.'
    Cragg winked at Morcurry. 'You are brilliant, Screwy. I don't care what the others say about you, I reckon you're a genius. Only you could have come up with a plan like that.'
    'Err, well. I do have my moments. Freddie?'
    'Way ahead of you, Screwy. On my way to the workshop.'
    'See,' said Craggy. 'You just gotta know the right people. Put the injector over there. Nice and easy. Right. Come with me.'
    The two men got off the dozer. 'I reckon, if they disabled the hydraulics here, cut the arm off say, here, weld the pod grabber arm on when it's cut the same length, no longer, mind, but...and this is important. The grabber itself must be this way, and not that way.' Cragg used his hand to demonstrate how it should be fitted. 'Got that?'
    Morcurry nodded. 'That'll work.'
    'Yep. And I want you back here and fitting that bloody injector in that bloody ship in three hours' time.'
    'Not a problem,' said Morcurry hurrying back to the dozer.
    'Not any more it isn't,' Cragg muttered to himself. 'Skye?'
    'I heard, Craggy. Three hours.'
    Cragg said, 'Are you crazy? That's impossible.'
    Dillow said, 'But you said three hours.'
    'That's only what I told Freddie. He'll be back in about four hours. I'm off for a beer.'
    When Cragg arrived home, he found he had a little visitor.
    'Uncle Craggy.'
    'Well, hello, Shyne. Nice to see you.'
    Misty said, 'Joel asked if we could have her for a few hours.'
    'And very welcome you are too, Shyne. And if I'm not mistaken, that smells suspiciously like chicken?'
    'From Joel. For us looking after Shyne for him.'
    Cragg got a beer from the fridge. 'Nice. I'm partial to a little chicken.'
    Misty dished up three plates. 'You want fries with that?'
    'Sounds good to me.'
    They sat at the table to eat their meal. Shyne was becoming a little chatter box and Cragg could see Fawn in her features. Perhaps her father's eyes.
    'I