Chapter 9

Gyro couldn't say that he was a morning person, not in the conventional sense. He just wasn't a sleep person. If it wasn't for the fact that his body required it, he would never have need for a bed or a couch or rest for that matter. But the body was quite fragile compared to the computers and robots and other mechanical things he worked with on a daily basis. He envied his creations which could work nonstop just as long as they had a constant flow of power and a cooling system.

So when the weekend rolled around, Gyro took the mandatory days off away from his lab, spending the time grumbling about all the time he was wasting and jotting down notes he could use. While Mr. McDuck did value hard-workers and didn't mind Gyro working his own hours—especially since the scientist was on salary—unfortunately the company's insurance provider insisted that Gyro must not take a single step inside a lab or do any work on Saturday and Sunday after Gyro had collapsed from exhaustion for the fourth time that year. It was a small sacrifice for working for Mr. McDuck.

So when Gyro returned to the lab Monday morning with a large latte in one hand and a notebook full of notes in the other, he was surprised to see his intern hunched over a desk, mechanical parts scattered.

Gyro glared. His intern still had youth and a body that could withstand more pressure and abuse than his own could. Oh, to be young again.

"Intern. Intern. Wake up," Gyro said, nudging Fenton awake with his foot.

"Wha—huh?" Fenton muttered, rising and rubbing his eyes.

"I told you to take the weekend off. You were close to collapsing last time I saw you, and now I find you sleeping in the lab," Gyro chastised, although if in the same position, he would have done the same.

"I did," Fenton said with a yawn. "And in my defense, I didn't come into the lab until it was technically Monday."

Gyro nodded. "So, did you figure out what was wrong with the submarine's engine?"

"Uh…no…" Fenton admitted. "I actually was working on a personal project of my own. I had an epiphany last night that I couldn't get out of my mind, and I just had to see if my theory was correct, but I've come across a big problem if you could take a look—"

"Don't care," Gyro said. "It's fine if you're working on your own projects on your own time, but Mr. McDuck isn't paying you to tinker around."

"He's not paying me at all," Fenton said.

"The important thing is to get this engine working, understand?" Gyro said, sipping his latte. "Now get to work."

"Yes, Dr. Gearloose," Fenton said, heading to where he had left the engine before the weekend.

Gyro went back to his desk, turning on his computer and checking his email right away. He saw that his inbox was empty save for the usual junk mail. He steepled his fingers and glared in the direction of his intern.

Why had Mr. McDuck not emailed him back? Was the incident already investigated? Was it really nothing just as he had pretended in front of his intern? Was it just a coincidence that his intern had just dreamed of mermaids when he was over-worked?

Gyro might have been inclined to think so, but he didn't believe in coincidences.

Fenton was glad that it was back to business as usual. He was afraid that Dr. Gearloose was going to say some sarcastic remark about seeing mermaids, or worse, question him further about his interests in mermaids, although why Dr. Gearloose would do this, Fenton didn't know. But true to form, Dr. Gearloose was just as standoffish as usual, and for once, Fenton was glad for that.

However, he was disappointed that he wasn't allowed to tinker with his new invention longer. He had fallen asleep while trying to figure out a problem with the filter and never found an answer. Perhaps it was best for him to work on something else since he wasn't sure what to try next.

Fenton jumped right into work, taking the engine apart, piece by piece, cleaning each part and setting it aside in correct order so that he could put it back together. It was a menial and time-consuming job, but it allowed him to think on his own problems while keeping his hands busy. Yet, while he was trying to figure out how to create a filter for his under-water breathing invention and what to do about the mermaid, he found the problem with the engine. There was a gasket with a crack in it and just needed to be replaced, an easy solution.

It was several hours after lunch when Fenton finally put the last part back into place and turned the engine back on, hearing the satisfying sound of mechanical parts moving together, the pistons pumping at rapid speed and the growling as fuel was ignited in small bursts which would propel the mini-sub through the water.

"It works!" Fenton shouted, raising his hands up in the air. "It's working, Dr. Gearloose."

"Finally," Dr. Gearloose said from somewhere in the lab. "Take it over to section B and get it set up in the min-sub. Let's see if it will work once it is hooked up."

"Take it over" was easier said than done. The engine was far too heavy to move by hand, but luckily the lab had the equipment to move heavy objects around. For this purpose, Fenton chose a device that was similar to a crane but on a smaller scale. The engine could be lifted with the use of hooks and chains up into the air and then lowered again inside the mini-sub. The crane would also hold the engine still while Fenton hooked it to the mini-sub. This took several hours and by the time Fenton was testing the engine inside the mini-sub, it was time to go home.

"Perfect," Dr. Gearloose said, checking on Fenton's work. "Good work, intern."

Fenton beamed at the praise, which was far and few between with Dr. Gearloose.

"You should go home," Dr. Gearloose said. "We'll prepare the mini-sub and take it for a test run tomorrow."

"Great!" Fenton said, feeling a high from getting a hard job done. He had spent a lot of time working on the mini-sub, and it was exciting to be almost done.

"Go home and rest up," Dr. Gearloose said, waving his intern off and already moving on to the next project he would work on for a few hours before retiring for the night himself.

"Actually, I was hoping to stay a few more hours and work on my own project, please Dr. Gearloose?" Fenton asked, tentatively. He felt like a child asking for permission. In essence, being an intern was very similar to being a child again, well, all the drawbacks and none of the benefits. He didn't get nap time and a snack. Had he even eaten today? Had he forgotten to eat lunch?

Dr. Gearloose shrugged. "That's fine. You know what materials you can use. Just don't bother me."

That was one perk to being an intern, at least an intern at McDuck Enterprises; once the work was done, he was free to experiment on his own as long as he used only the materials and parts that were cast off from old projects. If he wanted to use something specific, either he had to buy it himself—a difficult task since he was unpaid—or ask Dr. Gearloose for permission, which most of the time was a no.

Just as he was starting back into the project of an under-water breathing apparatus, Fenton felt a strong impression that he was being watched. A quick turn of his head proved that Dr. Gearloose was watching over his shoulder.

"Do you need something, Dr. Gearloose?" Fenton asked, pushing down a desire to cover up what he was working on. For some reason, he had the strange impression that he was being scrutinized carefully.

"Oh, no. I was just curious about your current obsession," Dr. Gearloose said, his tone uncharacteristically light. "It appears to be some sort of helmet."

"Oh, that's just the current prototype," Fenton said. "I'm hoping to alter it into a sort of flexible mask that can fit any type of mouth." That was only one problem he had come across. There were so many different shapes and sizes of beaks and mouths that it would be difficult to design a one-size/shape fits all. But if he couldn't solve the filtering issue, it wouldn't matter.

"Ah…a medical mask of a sort? Are you interested in going into the medical device field? That is a big industry," Dr. Gearloose said, bending down to look even closer.

Fenton was tempted to say yes. It would have been easy, although if Dr. Gearloose became even more interested in Fenton's device because of the falsehood, it would be hard to keep up the lie. But Fenton was tired of spinning untruths and he didn't see the harm in sharing his theory with his advisor.

"Not really. I'm trying to invent an underwater breathing apparatus," Fenton said truthfully, opening his arms to show his work so-far. "I had an idea about a filter that could differentiate between the states of matter instead of the size of a molecule, so it would allow anything in the gaseous form and no liquid or solid matter. I thought that it wouldn't need as much of a fine filtering system, but it appears to be far more complex than I thought it would be."

Dr. Gearloose raised an eyebrow. "That's very…ambitious of you," he said in an uncertain tone.

"Well, I haven't invented anything that has worked so far," Fenton said. "Well, nothing big at least. I mean, I've done small inventions but nothing ground-breaking, and I just had this idea last night and I thought that I might as well try it out. It couldn't hurt."

Dr. Gearloose hummed thoughtfully. "This wouldn't have anything to do with what you saw…I mean…what you thought you saw last week, would it?"

A tiny shock raced through Fenton, but he banished any thoughts that Dr. Gearloose's interest in his invention was anything but academic. "What do you mean?" Fenton asked, playing dumb.

"You know. About your mermaid?" That eyebrow on Dr. Gearloose's forehead rose even higher.

Fenton scoffed. "Oh, that," he laughed. "I must have been completely out of my mind to think I saw that. I barely made it home before I collapsed." He hoped that he was convincing. "No, I probably got the idea because of the storm and thought that an underwater breathing machine would save a lot of lives."

Dr. Gearloose nodded. "Yes, it would." He looked back down at Fenton's project for a moment, the silence soon becoming awkward before speaking again. "Your filter isn't any good. It's not sophisticated enough to filter out the oxygen from the water molecules. And you're going to need a vent to also let the carbon dioxide out or your mask is going to explode from the pressure."

"Oh, you're right," Fenton said. "I hadn't considered that yet."

"I think I have something that might help," Dr. Gearloose said, turning sharply and heading toward the storage area. He was gone for several minutes before coming back with a large, rectangular, metal box. He dropped it heavily onto Fenton's desk.

"What is this?" Fenton asked, looking at the crude contraption. It didn't look like anything Dr. Gearloose would invent. It didn't have his mentor's usual sleek outward appearance and looked to be almost on the brink of collapse. After opening it up, he could see that it was a very large filtering system, most likely for an underwater tank.

"It was left here back before when this was an observatory," Dr. Gearloose said with a shrug. "There was a lot of stuff like this, but I don't know who built it. It seems to be a cleaning system for a saltwater tank, but one that is far better than anything I've seen before. It was hooked up in one of the tanks in the back. I think it was designed to filter out underwater germs or something, to prevent sicknesses from spreading through water. Interesting, but it isn't my area of expertise. I remember looking through it before putting it in storage."

"Do you think Fethry invented this?" Fenton asked, so involved in looking over the device that he forgot to put a filter on his mouth. He tensed but forced himself not to look at Dr. Gearloose.

"Who? Fethry? Oh, you mean Mr. McDuck's nephew?" Dr. Gearloose said in a bored tone. "I don't really think so. He had no formal training. In fact, if I recall, he didn't even go to college. I really doubt he could do anything like this. More than likely, he had someone make it for him, although there is no signature on any of the parts or design, so I can't guess who he had hired. I'm sure the intellectual property belongs to McDuck Enterprises, but if not, if you come up with something good, I'm sure we can figure out the legal issues after you make this work, okay?"

Fenton sighed with relief, glad that Dr. Gearloose was more concerned about the legal issues instead of Fenton mentioning Fethry Duck. "Okay. I think I can use some of this, but it is far too big for what I had in mind. The biggest problem will be scaling it down to fit on a person's back. My goal is to make it at lease lighter than an air tank, and if all goes well, this means that a person can dive farther and longer than anyone has—"

"Yes, yes. You're welcome, intern," Dr. Gearloose interrupted. "Don't work on it too long. I want you well-rested in the morning so that you can test the mini-sub."

"Test? The mini-sub?" Fenton asked, lifting his head up. "You want me to go inside it? And drive it around the ocean?"

"Yes. That is the reason that I have an intern," Dr. Gearloose said, rolling his eyes. "Although I would like to do a few changes and tests first to make sure it is safe."

And all of a sudden, Fenton wondered if he really needed to work on the underwater apparatus. If Dr. Gearloose was going to let him test the mini-sub, who's to say that he not take it to the Singing Rocks. He had wondered if it would take him days, maybe even weeks, before he would be able to find the mermaid, but with the mini-sub, he might find her tomorrow.

All the same, he kept working on his project for an hour longer before leaving the lab. As he sat at the bus stop, an idea popped into his head. On a whim, he pulled out his phone and searched for any local orphanages in the Duckburg area. There was only one, a colonial mansion several miles away from the city limits nearly on the beach out-looking the ocean. Due to the government foster program, orphanages weren't common in today's world, but somehow this one continued to stay open through the years, although it was for girls only. But a quick search told Fenton that it had at one point taken in boys as well as girls, and the same orphanage has been open for over a hundred years. It was funded by McDuck Enterprises.

Fenton postulated that this must be the orphanage that Fethry Duck had broken into three years ago when his mother had been involved with the incident. Fenton also wondered if it was the same orphanage that he had been adopted from, remembering the story of how he came to be part of the McDuck family. Was there a connection? Was there a reason he broke into the orphanage? Was he looking for something? Or was it because the orphanage was close to the beach, did it have something to do with the mermaid?

Fenton shook his head and put his phone back in his pocket. He had promised his mother he was not going to look into Fethry Duck anymore. He had to rein in his curiosity. He had enough of a mystery looking for the mermaid. And perhaps that mystery would come to an end tomorrow.