After Robbie left, the mood in the house felt considerably lighter. That was one problem solved. Mabel could only hope Robbie succeeded in warning the town.

The Pines headed down to the basement, with Melody gathering cleaning and repair supplies on the way. She and Ford looked over what needed to be done, and then Melody snapped into efficiency mode. She handed Mabel and Dipper sprays and rags. "Okay, kids, some of this stuff is delicate. Ford and I will get that. And if anything looks busted, call one of us to come look at it. Otherwise, I'll show you what you can get started on cleaning."

Most of the cleaning involved clearing the rust that caked the pipes. Fortunately, Melody had a cleaning solution made just for scrubbing away rust. Unfortunately, there was only one bottle, and the twins had to patiently wait when the other had it.

Neither of them was very good at patiently waiting.

As the morning went on, Mabel felt her frustration rising. Why couldn't she just read the Journals instead of wiping away stubborn bits of rust? She forced herself to keep working — they were doing this for Stanley — but it was monotonous and boring. The only sounds were the hum of the portal and the adults discussing cleaning and repairs.

To Mabel's relief, Dipper seemed to be feeling the same way. "Hey Ford," he said after a while, "you're starting to remember more stuff from your past, right? Can you tell us stories about your adventures with Stanley?"

Ford paused in his inspection of the gauges. "I suppose I could," he said. "I had a lot more adventures with Fiddleford than I did Stanley. But I remember a few times where all three of us went out."

"Ooh, tell us about those!" Dipper said.

So for the next few hours, Ford told stories to help pass the time. He wasn't a very good storyteller, in Mabel's personal opinion — his voice was flat, and he mentioned unimportant details while forgetting crucial ones. Still, it was better than nothing, and he was telling them about exciting adventures. It made the cleaning easier.

He was in the middle of a story about Lee's first run-in with a gremloblin when Melody suddenly gasped.

Everybody stopped and looked to her. She was standing in front of some large, vertical glass tubes. "What is it, Melody?" Ford asked.

She whirled on him, her eyes wide. "Three hundred gallons! The indicator on these fuel tanks says the portal needs three hundred gallons of fuel. How on earth are you and Dipper going to carry that?!"

The basement went silent.

"Oh," Ford said quietly.

"And don't tell me you can handle it, either," Melody warned. "That much liquid probably weighs about a ton, and no one can carry that much weight, much less someone your age!"

Ford sat in the chair next to the control station and put a hand to his forehead. The twins watched as he thought, their cleaning assignments totally forgotten.

"We've done it before," he finally said. "Back in the day, Fiddleford and I managed to get all three hundred gallons here."

"It probably took you multiple trips, then," Melody said.

Ford shook his head. "No, we got it all at once. I just. . . don't remember how."

Mabel and Dipper shared a look. Mabel was tempted to scream, to throw down her rag and spray bottle, to storm out of the basement. They were held up by Ford's faulty memory again! It was good that there was a solution to getting all the fuel in one trip, yes — the more trips they had to take, the bigger the chances of getting stopped by the Order — but if Ford couldn't remember what that solution was, then it wasn't really a solution at all!

Initially, her frustration was directed at Ford, and she had to remind herself that it wasn't his fault. No, it was Fiddleford McGucket's fault.

Mabel had a strong desire to punch Fiddleford in the face.

Ford sighed. "I'll think it over. I'm sure I'll remember eventually. Let's get back to the portal."

Melody pursed her lips but did as he suggested, pulling out some duct tape to cover up a crack in the fuel tanks.

They got a lot of cleaning and repairs done that day, but by bedtime, Ford still had no recollection of how they'd managed to transport the fuel. Mabel's mounting frustration over the lost memories felt unbearable, and she wasn't even the one missing things from her past. She went to bed irritated that night, and her dreams were filled with a faceless Fiddleford McGucket building the memory gun, then laughing evilly as he fired it straight in Ford's face.

The next day, after the Pines had eaten breakfast, checked the locks to ensure they were engaged, and gone down to the portal, Ford remembered.

"Of course!" he said suddenly, almost causing Mabel to drop her spray bottle. "I remember now. We knew we couldn't carry all that on our own — so we recruited supernatural creatures to help us."

"Which ones?" Mabel asked excitedly. She mentally reviewed the creatures she'd read about in the first and third Journals. "They would've had to be strong, right? Was it the yeti? The minotaurs?"

Ford waved his wrench at her in confirmation. "Yes, the minotaurs. At least, that's my name for them, based on the Minotaur in Greek mythology, who was just a single beast. They told me their true species name once, but the human mouth can't pronounce it." He frowned. "They may be hibernating, I'm not sure. We'll have to go see, and if they're not, hopefully they remember me well enough to help us again. If they are hibernating. . ." He shrugged. "We'll have to see if the yeti are as sociable as they."

"Aren't yeti dangerous?" Melody asked. "For that matter, aren't minotaurs dangerous?"

"These minotaurs are a peaceful society," Ford assured her. "I don't know the yeti as well as I do they, however. If it is necessary to communicate with them, Dipper and I will be careful."

Melody didn't look happy about this, but she didn't protest. "Okay, fine. You had the minotaurs to help you last time. But how did they help you? What did you use to carry it? You can't exactly hold liquid in your hands, even if you're a supernatural creature."

"We had a sledge," Ford said. "Last time we did this, it was before the snows set in, so I'm not sure how well it'll do over the snow. I'm not even sure where it is, to be honest. But it had steel drums strapped to it, as well as good runners and strong harnesses, and it did the job. Dipper and I will have to pull it on the way there, but it's fairly light when the barrels are empty."

"I'm good with that," Dipper piped up. Mabel figured he probably would've been forced to help pull the sledge whether or not he was good with it, but she supposed a willing volunteer was better than a grudging slave.

"Then, when we get to Crash Site Omega, we'll fill them up, and the minotaurs will pull them back on the sledge."

"Assuming the minotaurs are awake," Melody reminded him, "and willing to help you."

"Right," Ford said.

After lunch, Ford decided to go look for the sledge back in his lab. "Do you want to come with me, Mabel?"

"Sure," she said. Better than cleaning old machinery, at any rate.

She doubted that finding the sledge would take very long — wasn't it large enough to be obvious? But she had underestimated just how much clutter Ford had back in that lab of his. It was a big room, and once you got past his computers and work desks, the back third — maybe even half — of the lab was just stuff piled on top of stuff piled on top of even more stuff.

"How the heck did you find all your weapons back here?" Mabel demanded.

"They were all in one place," Ford said. "I just had to find that place. And now they're out here" — he gestured to the boxes of weapons sitting atop one of the desks — "so there's less risk accidentally hurting ourselves."

Mabel would've preferred no risk, but with how much seemingly random stuff there was back here, there was going to be some risk no matter what. She picked through the paraphernalia and quickly started to wonder if this really was better than cleaning old machinery. Everything was super dusty, and moving anything sent clouds of dust billowing up into the air. Plus, she kept getting distracted by the cool-looking objects she had never seen before. This was not going very fast. Melody should be here instead; she seemed to have some magical ability to find things.

Eventually, they found it. It was covered in stuff, and Ford insisted on carefully removing said stuff rather than just dumping on the ground, but they found it. Mabel wasn't sure what the big deal was with being careful: They were still putting things in random places on the floor anyway. But she did as her great uncle said, and in about ten minutes, they had an uncovered sledge and a large cloud of dust.

"Ah, wonderful, the barrels are still here," Ford said.

Mabel sneezed.

Ford dragged the sledge to the door on his left, the one that led outside. He unstrapped the barrels and propped the sledge up against the wall, inspecting the sledge for decay. Mabel didn't know if she should stay with him or go back downstairs. If she did the latter, she'd for sure be put back to work. She kept reminding herself that all this work was for Stanley, but. . . well, she'd imagined Stan's rescue would be a lot more exciting than this.

It would be if you went out with Ford to get the fuel, said a little voice in her head. Mabel sighed inwardly. Right. 'Exciting' usually meant 'dangerous' in Gravity Rises, and she was currently trying to avoid danger.

Once Ford declared the sledge functional, the two Pines headed back down to the basement. Which meant more cleaning. Yay.

"It's frustrating how much time that cost us," Ford said as he worked. "I would have wanted to be out there by now."

"You told Robbie we'd give him a couple days to spread the word," Melody reminded him. "It works out."

Ford gave a grudging nod. "I want to leave first thing tomorrow morning. Okay, Dipper?"

"Rodger that," Dipper said.

Mabel imagined Bill listening to their conversation and going straight to Pacifica to help her plan an attack. She shivered and looked away.

"Mabes?" Dipper asked.

"Bill heard that," was all she could manage in response.

There was a pause. Then Mabel heard footsteps and felt a hand on her shoulder. "There's nothing we can do about that but be prepared," Ford said. "We'll take weapons. We'll have the minotaurs to back us up. We'll be fine."

"We don't even know if the minotaurs can help us!" Mabel said.

"I didn't write anything in the Journal about hibernation," Ford replied. "That would've been a detail I would've included."

"Maybe you didn't know!"

"Maybe." Ford gently turned Mabel to face him. "We can't let fear stop us, Mabel. We can make plans, backup plans, contingency plans — and we have. Now the only thing to do is move forward and adapt if there are challenges we didn't anticipate."

"But—"

"He's right, Mabes," Melody said. "I'm anxious too — I want to just shut this whole thing down and hide under the covers with a nice book. Heavens to Betsy, Ford, I wouldn't actually do that!" she added as Ford turned on her with an astonished glare. "Honestly, can't you just calm down? Of course I wouldn't do that. But there is a part of me that wants to, I'll admit." She smiled reassuringly at Mabel. "It's okay. It's completely normal to be scared. Maturity is being able to square your shoulders and do scary things anyway."

Mabel didn't feel very reassured. "I'm only thirteen," she whispered.

Melody sighed. "I know," she said. "I wish you weren't in this situation."

"But without you," Ford said, "I never would have remembered Stan."

Oh, like that helped. Mabel's brain automatically filled in other endings to that sentence: Without you, Pacifica never would have stolen my house. Without you, I never would have gone down to the bunker and accidentally killed Shifty. Without you, the Order would never have made me their number-one target.

"Mabes?" Dipper said again. "It's okay. Ford and I got this." He grinned. "The minotaurs got this, too."

He was obviously excited about meeting the minotaurs, so Mabel stopped herself from pointing out, once again, that the minotaurs might not even be awake. She went back to her cleaning, trying to signal that she was done with this conversation. It worked, kind of — Ford, Melody, and Dipper still talked about their plans for tomorrow, but at least they weren't talking to her anymore.

She had so much anxiety that she didn't even know where it was coming from. Oh, she knew — Ford and Dipper's expedition to go get the fuel, the possibility of an Order attack, the possibility that the portal wouldn't work, the possibility that Stanley wouldn't even be there when the portal did work — but it all blurred together into this one massive lump of worry and stress, and she couldn't trace individual threads of that worry back to their origins.

The rest of the day passed in an uneasy haze, and the night wasn't much relief. Mabel's anxiety kept waking her up throughout the night, and when she did sleep, she had fuzzy nightmares that didn't have events or solid details — just clouds of apprehension and discomfort.

Dipper, unfortunately, woke up talking the next morning. "What do you think the minotaurs are like?" was the first thing he said to her. "I know Ford said they were a peaceful society, but come on. Bull men? You can't be half bull and not want to headbutt anything that moves." He grinned. "I bet they're super manly."

Mabel, who had been lying awake for the past half hour and trying to get back to sleep, rolled over and put her pillow over her head.

"They're minotaurs, Dipper, not manotaurs," she muttered.

Somehow he understood her, even though she was mumbling into her sheets. "Well yeah, I know what they're called. Doesn't mean they can't be manly."

Mabel vaguely wondered what Dipper's concept of "manly" was, considering there were — as far as she could tell — so many different viewpoints on what masculinity and femininity actually were. That thought died quickly, however, as she once again concerned herself with trying to block out all sound.

Not easy when her noisy twin brother was up and moving.

Finally, when her attempts to fall asleep proved to be utterly futile, she sat up and stretched. Dipper, fully dressed and wearing pale blue tennis shoes with black stripes, turned to her. "Oh good, you're up!"

Mabel scowled back, too groggy to be cheerful. Her eyes flicked down to his shoes. "Um, Dip? You do realize you're going to be walking through deep snow all day."

"Huh?" He followed her gaze to his feet. "I'll be fine, Mabel. And besides, I gotta wear these — they're my good luck shoes!"

"You have, like, fifty pairs of good luck shoes," Mabel said.

Dipper shrugged. "The more luck, the better!" he said. "I'm headed downstairs for breakfast. I think I can smell bacon!"

Mabel didn't think that was how luck worked. And wearing tennis shoes in snow was bound to bring more bad luck than it did good. As Dipper raced out of the room, she called after him, "Don't come crying to me when your socks are all soggy!"

She wanted to get out of bed after that, but the quiet that descended over the room after Dipper left was too inviting to pass up. She flopped back onto her pillow and stared up at the ceiling.

It took Melody calling up the stairs for breakfast three times before Mabel finally got up. Breakfast was delicious, as usual, but Dipper, Ford, and Melody were discussing the boys' expedition the whole time, which made the food hard to enjoy. After breakfast, Dipper and Ford went off to prepare supplies while Melody made them food to take with them. Mabel was left to sit there moping.

"Oh, Mabel," Melody said sympathetically. A moment later, Mabel felt hands on her shoulders as Melody started to rub them gently. "It's okay," she said. "They can take care of themselves." She moved around so Mabel could see her. "Could you help me with these lunches? A little work might do you some good."

Mabel had spent the last two days cleaning, so she doubted it. But she did as Melody suggested — the housekeeper didn't deserve to do all the kitchen work all the time.

They were almost finished when Ford appeared in the entry way just outside the kitchen. He was holding armfuls of weapons. "Dipper and I are taking stun guns and knockout patches, and I realized we should leave some with you as well. Just in case." He came over and put two stun guns on the table, plus a handful of small square packages.

Mabel's stomach flipped over itself as she saw the weapons. Just in case of what? She and Melody would be safe in the Museum, right?

"We have the sledge ready," Ford continued. "How's the food coming?"

"We made lunches, dinners, and snacks," Melody said. "I worry you may not be back by tonight like you were hoping, though. Should I make more?"

Ford considered this. "Maybe a couple more sandwiches."

Mabel and Melody did as he suggested, and fifteen minutes later, the Pines all went outside, ready to send Dipper and Ford off. It was the first time that Mabel had been outside — that any of them had been outside — for three days. The fresh air was nice. . . for about two seconds. Then it was freezing, and Mabel wanted to go back inside.

She couldn't go back inside yet, though. Not until Dipper and Ford had left.

She wished she'd never gotten out of bed this morning. Helping Melody with the food had helped take Mabel's mind off her fear, but now it all came back. When Dipper came over to give her a hug, she flung her arms around him and held him close.

"I'm scared, Dip," she whispered.

"I know," he replied. "But it's okay. We have weapons, we have each other, and we have big bull men to keep us safe."

"You might have big bull men," Mabel muttered.

"Aw, c'mon, Mabes, be a little optimistic."

Be a little realistic, her brain countered. She didn't say it out loud, though.

"Tell me everything about the UFO when you get back," she said instead.

Dipper stepped back and pulled a camera out of his backpack. "No worries, I've got this baby. Between my awesome storytelling skills and the pictures I take, it'll be like you went there yourself."

The twins went over to join Ford and Melody, who were talking by the sledge. The barrels had been fastened to the sledge with new straps, and there were camping supplies stuffed into a few of them, though from what Mabel had heard, Ford wasn't planning on using them. He wanted to be back before the day was over. Mabel wanted them to be back by tonight, too — less time to worry about them.

All too soon, the boys were ready to head out.

They got strapped in to two of the harnesses connected to the sledge. Dipper giggled once he was in his. "I feel like a husky!"

"All right, you two, be safe," Melody said. She glanced to the younger Pines. "Dip, you keep your uncle in line, okay?"

Dipper saluted. "Yes, ma'am!"

Ford just rolled his eyes.

Mabel ran up for one last hug from Dipper. She had this awful feeling that they would never see each other again. It was probably just paranoia, but. . .

Dipper hugged her tightly back.

When the twins didn't move apart from each other, Ford cleared his throat. "Come on, Dipper, we'd better go."

Dipper moved back far enough to smile at her. "I love ya, sis. Take care of Waddles for me, 'kay?"

"Come back tonight and take care of him yourself," Mabel replied.

"C'mon, Mabes," Melody said gently.

Mabel reluctantly let go of her brother and stepped back. Melody put a comforting arm around her as Ford said, "You two keep the portal and the Journals safe, okay?"

Mabel perked up. They weren't taking any of the Journals? It made sense — it would be terrible if the Order captured them and the Journals — but Mabel hadn't heard about it until now. Or, maybe she had, but she'd been too consumed with anxiety to process it. "You guys aren't taking the Journals? What if you get lost?"

"I made copies of a few pages," Ford said, "specifically ones with directions. We won't get lost. You have my permission to read through the Journals as much as you want while we're gone, Mabel, unless Melody gives you something else to do. Okay?"

"O-okay," she said. That prospect made all this a little better. But only a little.

"Mush!" shouted Dipper, and he started pulling on the sledge. The sudden movement almost knocked Ford off balance. The Author adjusted, grumbling at Dipper that he'd better go at Ford's pace.

Melody waved them off as they pulled the sledge into the forest. It was slow going — agonizingly slow. Mabel joined in the waving at first, but her arm got tired after a while, and the boys were just reaching the tree line.

She put her arm down and just watched as her brother and her great uncle gradually disappeared into the trees.

"Okay then," Melody said. Mabel jumped a little — even though Melody's arm had been around her this entire time, she'd still somehow forgotten the housekeeper was there. "Let's get back inside."

"And lock the whole place down again?" Mabel asked as they climbed the porch steps.

Melody sighed. "And lock the whole place down again."