The Dabare Snake Launcher by Joelle Presby

Author:Joelle Presby [Presby, Joelle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Science Fiction, Action & Adventure, Hard Science Fiction, General
ISBN: 9781982192259
Google: yNx5EAAAQBAJ
Amazon: 1982192259
Publisher: ‎Baen
Published: 2022-11-01T04:00:00+00:00

Part II

Dabare—the engineering know-how to plan, implement, and follow through on a complex project

(Samson Young’s note: Depending on context, “dabare” is sometimes applied to someone who only thinks they have this “dabare” skillset, but the resulting engineered object—also referred to as a “dabare”—proves the individual does not/did not.)

Definition from “Local Terms” in

The TCG Kilimanjaro Handbook

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Eighty-five days and a lot of work later, Pascaline heard other less welcome news. Endeley Bouba and Grandpere’s joint influence had jump-started geothermal plant construction. Cement deliveries were running late again, and they need more earthmovers for the launcher line where the maglev system would go. Meanwhile there was this party to attend and that nasty rumor.

“What do you mean Great Aunt Mami is in the hospital?” She wanted to turn around and glare at Angelique, but the woman slapped her hand and growled a threat to have her strapped into the beautician’s chair if Pascaline didn’t stop moving. The hairstyle had been good enough at least a half hour ago, but Angelique was having a bout of nerves over the Parisienne émigré who was doing Aunt Julienne’s hair.

“Who is doing up Maurie these days?” Angelique whispered. “I’ll never tell if you give me the name.”

“How the hell should I know?” Pascaline groaned. “Maurie’s been having doctor visits every other day, it seems like, and spending the rest of the time on the mountain. If I didn’t know better I’d say she was interested in Endeley Adamou. Now, tell me about Great Aunt Mami.”

“Ah.” Angelique went silent, which made Pascaline suspicious. Angelique always had something to say or some tidbit she wanted to hear confirmed or denied. The beautician hummed to herself for a moment, and completely ignored Pascaline’s order. She gave a curt nod. “You’re all done then. Enjoy the party. No, not quite. Wait.” Angelique gave a side of the headpiece a minute tug. The dress was some bamboo-fiber-blend fabric or other from a Yaoundé-based designer Great Aunt Mami had sponsored. It itched. But it also flared and curved and held up quite flatteringly while repelling wine stains. The headpiece Angelique finished pinning in place complemented it.

“Angelique,” Pascaline said. “Tell. Me. About. My. Great. Aunt.”

“Oh,” Angelique fluttered her fingers in apology. “She’s checked into that nice clinic villa. You know the one with the really good spa?”

Pascaline did know the one. “Yeah, and with the hospice wing where you get to have your bed rolled out onto the veranda to die listening to the rainforest birds.”

“Oh, well.” Angelique flapped her hands in denial. “I doubt it’s come to that. Though our Ms. Mami is getting on in years, and the spirits don’t tend to let their blessed ones linger once they’ve moved on.”

“What?” Pascaline shook her head which made Angelique hiss and flutter around checking the hairstyle for any damage the extreme motion might have caused. “Great Aunt Mami is not allowed to die.”

“Of course not,” Angelique said soothingly as if the two of them would have any say in the matter. “But you might send her some flowers.

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