Original Timeline Story List

(The following were notes and an ancient hard drive found aboard the C.E.S Exeter during a routine sweep of uninhabited crew quarters...said notes belonged to one Samantha Frasier. Records indicate Samantha Frasier was a medic aboard the Exeter, completing two tours and then retiring with distinction. these transcripts have been included here in the interest of completing the record, in the hopes that future generations will be better informed about the psychological motivations of the subjects involved.)

Maggie Johnson looked at the assembled throng from her position at the podium. All the high school girls from freshman to seniors were here... or so many that the no-shows didn't mean anything. The cheer squad was in front of course, with the honorable Pamela Dale presiding.

She turned to her assistant in arranging this, Samantha Frasier, a frumpy looking slightly overweight sophomore that happened to be a great friend, and almost ninja-like in her ability to stay unnoticed.

"Ready?"

Sam gave her the thumbs up from her post at her laptop and hit a button.

Maggie tapped the microphone she'd plugged in earlier, making sure it worked in the age old fashion. She then yelled into said mic above the murmur.

"Let's get this started, ok? To start, what should we call ourselves?"

"Do we need to call ourselves anything?" Trish jones asked, slightly clueless.

"Concerned citizens?" Lydia Sills replied.

Maggie made a show of thinking while the murmuring increased but abruptly stopped it once the shouting started.

"I have it! The Paris Girls' association!"

"The PGA? Isn't that what the golfers are called?"

"Whatever! I declare this meeting started!"

They shut up, mercifully.

"Now as some of you may know, but not all of you, rumor has it that Myrcial Campbell has mutated...."

The murmurs and shouting started again.

"Myrc!?!? no way, what a waste...."

"Great, another one."

"How tragic!"

"SHUT UP!"

The 'conversation' stopped again.

"Rumor also has it that as a result of his mutation, Myrcial is becoming female."

This time, there was an awkward silence.

"That's right ladies, Myrc will soon be joining us in our bathrooms and locker room. I saw the paperwork myself. The rumors are true."

"How did you see the paperwork?"

"Um, that's really not important. What is important, is the principal has signed off on this. It's going through."

The muttering and shouting started again, this time with righteous fury evident.

"Calm down! I have a plan."

"And what kind of plan is that?" Sam asked calmly, firmly cementing her place as the groups straight person.

"Simple. We confirm it our own way. Myrciel may well have mutated, and may well be female. Or it could be an elaborate trick. I think we need to investigate Myrc when he comes back... play a little bit of 20 questions, or similar."

Ruth White spoke up, adding a surprisingly thoughtful question to the background noise of outrage.

"What possible gain would Myrc get by lying to us about this?"

"I don't know.' maggie replied. 'But you know about the other rumors concerning Myrc. He could be a pervert."

Ruth replied in surprisingly loud voice, shooting a scorn-filled glance at Pam.

"I don't believe any of that crap."

Pam spoke up.

"I'll do it. I know a way to confirm whether Myrc is pulling a fast one or not, and I should be the one to do it anyway; none of the rest of you know him well enough."

Maggie pretended to ponder this as well. It was all going according to plan, and so easily!

"Alright, you're up. He will be coming to school Monday. Get whatever you need ready by then. Meeting adjourned. Watch out for teachers on your way out."

Maggie watched with Sam as the women of Paris high filed out of the gym, still chattering.

"I really don't think we should be doing this. It seems like a huge overreaction."

"The school may be letting a perv into our bathrooms Sam. We owe it to ourselves to be careful. Best case scenario is it's just an elaborate prank."

"Worst case?"

"Myrc did indeed mutate. You know how the boys will take it. If Myrc lost mass or some other weird thing - if he can't defend himself anymore... well, I don't think I'll let any girl get beaten down in school by boys, even a newly minted one. Even if she's a lesbian."

"And beaten by other girls?"

"Well, we will see. Time to go."

They packed up and left.

* * * * *

(Notes indicate these are minutes from the second and final meeting.)

"How could she do that? I mean, what the hell!"

Maggie paced back and forth, obviously agitated. She turned to Sam as the others started filing in, or as many as would come during lunch.

"Computer on?"

Sam nodded and maggie turned to her audience.

"Let me be clear; What Pam did was in no way condoned by any of us, or should be. Siccing that brute on someone half his size...!"

"And the worse part is, we don't even know the truth!"

Cindi Billings shouted, apparently more upset about that then having her cheerleading captain in hot water.

"I don't know, I think it's pretty obvious. Boys aren't that normally that small, fine-featured, or busty." Ruth opined.

"Tell me about it!' Chrissy Johnson exclaimed, 'She looks like a damn doll!"

"Or a petite supermodel."

Sam dutifully cataloged the nods for the minutes; There were 13.

"Um, we do know the truth. One hundred percent." Maggie spoke up, face coloring slightly.

"Maggie, what did you do?" Ruth asked.

"I um, felt bad about how things turned out, so I helped Myrc...err Minerva, clean up. While we were in the bathroom I was rearranging her clothes and..."

"Tell me you didn't molest Myrc. Please tell me you didn't...."

She went bright red at the insinuation.

"Of course not! but I was dusting off her clothes and the urge to know just hit me all at once...so I straightened her jeans for her."

"And how does that prove anything?"

"Well um, it's kind of obvious...." Maggie hedged.

"What is?" ruth persisted.

"The jeans are tight...."

"And?" Ruth wouldn't let it drop, even though some others were nodding now.

"SHE HAS CAMEL TOE!" Maggie shouted, then looked around the echoing gym, mortified.

She continued on in a whisper.

"there's just no way to fake that; I've done some research, there are things called gaffes that can hide a man's wiener, but nothing that I could find that gives that unique appearance. So we have a shocked, confused and hurting girl on our hands."

"Then we don't add to it. We all owe Myrc that much." Ruth replied with a surprising amount of steel in her voice.

"Agreed. If anything we close ranks around her, not the other way. Are we all agreed?"

Universal affirmation met Maggie's ears.

"Then I declare the second meeting of the PGA over, and the organization officially disbanded, it's charter fulfilled. Let's all go get lunch!"

Cheers met that declaration.

Cindi walked up to Maggie.

"How do we help Pam?"

"We don't. She made her bed, she can lie in it."

They all filed out, Cindi's curses not quite being caught by Sam's laptop microphone.

I awoke to dim light; my desk lamp was on to provide illumination, but the sun had set. My sigh caused Jeeves to stir.

"How long?"

"Three hours, 23 minutes, 14 seconds mistress Min."

"Crap. So it's close to six, and I have homework to make up. I wanted to work on a few things."

"Just design them mistress Min, and I will be your hands while you sleep."

"That isn't nearly as much fun, and would still take more time than I will have tonight besides. Did I miss dinner?"

"You did. Would you like something?"

"Just a snack please...and some coffee."

"As soon as possible mistress Min."

He was slipping. Yesterday he would have had both items ready and waiting. I really needed to crack him open and take a look... but first, homework! It was all so boring... so easy. I looked up to find the coffee, already cooling, with some sort of lemon cookies. Both still being held on Jeeves tray, in his hands. His look - expectation, with a small amount of exultation - was mildly disconcerting.

"What are you grinning at, you goof?"

His smile grew wider. A stray thought about the material his teeth were made of flitted into my head and flew out on swift wings.

"Your homework is complete."

I looked down, sure enough, it was. These black outs, trances, whatever they were, were getting annoying.

"How did you know?"

"You looked up, of course."

"Of course." The logic was faulty, but in this case, he was right. With a shrug I turned to my computer, wondering what project to start. I caught inspiration from a chance glance out the window, into the star-speckled night. Perhaps not all childhood dreams had to die?

I worked on ramjet engines until the sky began to lighten; baby steps. After a nap, of course, I was late... so I kicked my brother out of the bathroom and jumped in.

"Darn it Min, hurry up!"

"I am, I am! you know how long it takes to wash this stupid hair?!?"

I rushed out, hair wet but clothes thankfully on in time to hear him mutter: "Well, why not cut it then?"

I stopped and got into his face, whispering one word so he'd understand. "Mom."

His blanch and nod was pretty gratifying.

Breakfast was an english muffin, ham, and scrambled eggs; One look at the parental units and I put my work down to focus on it. Neither approved of me working at the table. As usual, Jeeves dried and brushed my hair while I ate and sipped coffee. None of us spoke, focused on our own breakfasts and concerned with our daily tasks.

It's amazing, the things you can consider normal, and after so little time spent building such a routine. Human adaptation is incredible.

Jeeves finished just before I did, and had my bag ready. Being slightly late I decided to run. Luckily enough I could still do that much at least. I couldn't lift more than a feather, but since I didn't weigh any more than a feather, it worked out... sort of. I flew to the end of the block without slowing. And there, waiting for me, was Ricky.

He was tomato-faced, and late... and seemed to be stuck to the corner as if glued. He wasn't moving towards school at all. Was he sick or something?

"Hey, Min."

"Good morning. Come on, we'll be late!"

In passing and with a full head of steam I snagged his hand; a maneuver I had done before when he wasn't moving fast enough for something or other, mainly school. This time however, the outcome was different. Instead of him being dragged along I almost came to a complete stop instead, bleeding momentum as he staggered two steps before his hand slipped from mine.

Stupid physics; how dare it mock me this way!

"Seriously, come on! We only have 4 minutes and 12 seconds left! That's barely enough time, let's go!"

I started running and soon enough he was right behind; well behind Jeeves anyway, who was moving along at a comfortable looking lope of his own. This fact seemed to annoy Ricky, who started really trying.

That of course, spurred me on, because illogical as it was, I really wanted to see if I could at least win a foot race against my friend anymore. I was sure I could, but I kept hearing a nagging little voice tell me I couldn't. The irony of the situation is that Jeeves is the normal one here - he didn't care. He only seemed concerned about whether I'd make it to school on time.

Lengthening my stride as much as possible, I increased the pace and focused on my breathing. Despite these measures, Ricky pulled up beside me, easily keeping pace. I ignored the voice again as it whispered (You knew that would happen, you're short, with a smaller stride, and your hips are now most inefficient compared to before) and tried to find another gear. As if to mock such efforts, Ricky just passed me as we reached the school doors.

"Great run; man you're fast."

The irony that I was far less fast than when I was a man was not lost on me, making that statement a good outpouring of salt on some recently open wounds. I never would have lost that big a lead on Ricky as a guy.I decided to be the bigger person and let it pass as we walked in quickly, Jeeves looking rather forlorn, alone at the gate.

"So what were you doing standing around Ricky, we were both late!"

I really hope he wasn't waiting on me. We had an unspoken rule, we did not wait for the other after 5 till; it screwed us both detention wise. Luckily, we had made it just in time today.

"Well I'd lost my homework at the corner, and was looking for it. That's why I was still there. But then you came and I realized how late I was, and ran when you did."

Pretty good Ricky, but I smelled a lie. How did you lose your homework? Throw it? The wind was blowing south-southwest at maybe 5 mph... not really enough to blow homework papers out of anyone's hands unless they were asleep, dead, or distracted. And if homework had been blown out of a hand (the only conclusion about losing it that made sense, since there was no dog near) then why were you standing on the street corner, not moving to retrieve it? Again, I let it pass.

But something was clearly up.

"Alright, well which class was it? You'll need to get with the teacher and work something out with them. At least, after first period."

I made it just as the bell rang, finally collapsing to my desk and getting to take my breather.

"Dude, what happened to you?"

Ralph was looking over, clearly concerned. Ugh, I must look terrible or something.

"Nothing, I was just late and had to run to avoid detention. Is it that noticeable, or something?"

"Messed up hair, elevated breathing, a bit of red in your face... yeah it's visible, if someone is paying attention. Don't worry, no one else is."

My gaze swept the classroom as Mr. Welch (late himself) entered. It was true, everyone else was off in their own little world, chatting, reading, or in two cases doing their homework at the last minute, frowns clearly evident. I saw only one or two random glances my direction, indications that I was included in those little worlds to which every fellow student harbored within themselves.

So very unlike yesterday; was one day really all it took? Was a short time all it took for them to move on to the next disaster? Talk about sheeple. I could only hope so really, I was still stinging from my inability to defend myself.

Had I been like that?

If I had at one point been like that, I would need to watch for it. Humans had a tendency to self-deception after all, and I wouldn't ever want to go back to that shallow way of thinking... if I'd ever left it in the first place.

Ugh, thinking sucks, you can't control what you think about, and it never stops!

Mr. Welch's lecture on how weight and stresses could be manipulated and eased through the application of proper structure was only mildly distracting; didn't we already learn this from the kite exercise? I mean after all the winds from hundreds of feet up would rip a poorly built kite to shreds in minutes, and improperly shared stresses involving flying a big moving sail across the sky would cause one to snap even faster.

But of course, if most of the student's kites hadn't even flown, they wouldn't be likely to absorb that lesson through observation. Which was why we now had to design and create a superstructure to support an egg being dropped from a height of three stories (from the school fire escape, to be specific) using only toothpicks and an adhesive of our choice, glue or tape - but not both. If the egg survived, we got an A, if it didn't, well C's were possible for a good attempt. We would have two weeks in which to read the relevant chapters Mr. Welch would assign, do the research, and make the structure.

The many groans from the class told me all I needed to know about what most people thought their chances were. As people started getting paired off, Ralph leaned over.

"What are you drawing?"

I looked down. In the margins of my notebook I had been drawing the new ramjet I had been contemplating, in the usual parts unassembled fashion I'd picked up from somewhere. It looked like an engineer had drawn it; there were calculations in regard to wind resistance (for the cowling), fuel usage, and engine lubrication. The ones regarding fuel usage made me frown; it was all wrong. This engine would require way too much power using fossil fuels.

Had I been doing that while listening to Mr. Welch AND thinking about how crappy my life was? Was my brain multitasking? If so it was doing it without me being aware of it, and that was kind of scary.

"A new engine I was thinking of working on. For a jet."

He looked at it critically.

"Awful small, isn't it? What kind of power you looking to get?"

True, it was only the size of a good coffee snob's coffee maker, but the power was going to be impressive. If I could solve the fuel problem; I mean, 50 gallons of jp-9 for 6 minutes of run time? Who wants to deal with that?

"Oh, somewhere around 17,000 pounds of thrust. Maybe more if I can solve the fuel problem."

His eyes wide for some reason, he asked:

"Fuel problem?"

"Yeah, standard jet fuel just won't cut it; I can't load enough unless I build an entire jet around it, a large one. So I'll

need another power source. Possibly nuclear? I don't know...."

"Um, can't you use something a little safer than nuclear power?"

Indignant, I was about to launch into the fine points of nuclear power safety when we were both rudely interrupted. Or perhaps not really rudely interrupted, since we had been talking in class and Mr. Welch was the one who interrupted us, looking more than a little angry. It's not like we were being loud or anything.

"Since you two are obviously already discussing the problem,' his glare gained intensity briefly before settling back into a low simmer- 'perhaps you two should team up for this next project."

Uh-oh.

I looked at Ricky and gave a sort of helpless shrug as I replied.

"Sure, Mr Welch."

Ralph seemed similarly stunned. Ricky and I grouped up for any and all labs we could, we had since forever. On the other hand, maybe the break would be a good one. Once more a bit focused, I started sketching an egg cradle.

"How about something like this?"

Ralph leaned over again.

"But how are you going to control the angle of descent?"

"Why do we need to? We can simply build this piston design all the way around, kind of like the NASA bubble around rovers. Won't matter which way it falls then."

I looked up, and caught some people watching us and whispering. I couldn't make out what was being said, but I could guess. Mr. Welch on the other hand, heard less than I did. He was now back at the blackboard, writing down the chapters to be read, just in case the students couldn't read the typed handout he gave earlier. Mildly sad, that. I idly wondered why we were doing this project now, since Monday we were talking fish adaptations, and Wednesday's lab was supposed to be investiagating those up close, using goldfish as the examinees.

When the bell rang moments later I dutifully tucked the hand out into my notebook next to the notes on jet design and rushed out the door. Ricky was lying to me, and acting weird. I couldn't blame him for the latter, but the former... we had never had secrets before, and even if it turned out to be something innocuous, it hurt. If it was that he didn't like the new me, well all he had to do was tell me so, and I'd leave him alone. I wouldn't blame him, I was pretty sure I didn't like the new me.

"Hey, Min! Wait up!"

I turned, noticing once again my own personal bubble, an open space in the cresting river current of humanity in which none intruded. I also noticed the stares and whispers again, as people walked past, obviously thinking that I had mutated into something blind and deaf. I spotted an arm waving frantically above the crush behind me, and soon enough Maggie Johnson was bobbing like a cork through the water, against the human wave.

"Hi Maggie, what's up?"

"Not much, I was just wondering if you'd given any thought to making a few more of Jeeves. The line is already forming around the block!"

Seriously? What did they see in that buggy jerk? I mean he followed orders some of the time, but he wasn't in any way reliable.

"I honestly hadn't thought of it, Sorry. I got sidetracked by another idea I've been working on."

She finally reached me, grabbing my arm and dragging me along, Samantha flanking me. The bubble did one thing well; we weren't knocked around while heading to class. Mutant cooties, I had 'em.

"Oh, and what project has caught your fancy? A girl version of Jeeves? A new type of hair dye? Taking over the world?"

Oh, low blow. She caught my glare, but what was surprising was the peripheral view; Samantha's glare from beside me. Against such an onslaught she wilted, throwing us both the puppy dog eyes. The dreaded puppy dog eyes of contrition, to which I had no defense.

"Sorry, thoughtless of me."

I smiled to show I held no hard feelings for the reminder.

"It's okay; don't worry about it. And no, working on a new ramjet engine. It'll end up about the size of a large coffee canister and generate a good 17,000 pounds of thrust up to about 35,000 feet. The problem is the fuel consumption is insane, a gallon every twenty seconds or so, and the heat generated...."

I risked a glance over; Sam was listening sort of intently, but Maggie's eyes had glazed.

"Nevermind all that, it's not important, I'll figure it out."

"But a new jet engine? What made you think of that?"

"Not sure really, but I've always wanted to fly planes. FAA probably won't let me now unless I have the power and don't know it, or I build my own aircraft."

"So, you're going to build your own planes?"

Maggie looked somewhat excited. Another glance revealed Samantha looking oddly supportive. Maggie's next question floored me though.

"Could I... could we help?"

"Um...."

I was sort of saved by my arrival at algebra. Could they help? Would they help, and not hinder? Would they think I was weird (or weirder) for seeing me in action? As I searched their faces, Samantha surprised us both. Samantha almost never spoke except when called upon by a teacher, preferring to let Maggie do the talking. But this time she seemed to feel it wasn't enough.

"Please? I'd like to help."

I came to a decision. Stall.

"Alright, I'm not in any way saying no, But please let me think on it, OK? Now we've all got to get to class before we get detention; see you both later."

They both nodded and hustled themselves. Neither one looked angry at being put off. At least not yet.

Whew.

I sat down in a hurry again, and the whispers quieted. I grabbed my book and set my book bag down, and looked up to see Ralph in the seat next to mine, to my left... again. While yes, Ralph was supposed to be sitting next to me this period, he had for physics too. While Mr. Welch was pretty laissez-faire about seating, I couldn't imagine Ricky, who had been a few seats away, had been happy about the switch. Maybe that's what Ricky was staring at me about earlier?

"Say Ralph, did you piss Ricky off?"

"Huh? How?"

"You were sitting next to me earlier, Ricky normally does that."

"Ahh, it's first come first serve in physics, and as a devisor you're going to be a pretty hot commodity in class. So if he's bent out of shape about it, well he can just get over it. But he didn't say anything to me or anything like that, no. As far as I know we're cool. Why do you ask?"

"Well he spent a lot of class time staring our direction; you didn't notice?"

"No, I was busier watching the vapid gossiping crew; I didn't really want to feed them any ways to make us the next item."

Oh gods, my reputation. I really did not want to have to worry about that again; my character had already been assassinated once, my behavior impugned.

"Urgh. Not again."

Oops, did not want to say that out loud.

"Don't worry, I won't let them bad mouth you. We're friends, after all."

Hmm, did he say anything like that to me before? Did he try to defend my reputation before? Did I need such a defense before? Did I need someone else to fight such battles for me now? I guess I could have used some help like that before; my own response to people spreading rumors about me was to ignore them and hope they would go away, which led me to being pegged as gay all through middle school. Not to mention all those beatings in the locker and bathrooms if I let my eyes stray (I'd given as good as I got, and that trend hadn't continued past middle school).

It might have been nice to have someone else backing me; after all Ricky couldn't be everywhere at once. His idea on how to stop the gay rumor had consisted of me 'banging Pam' (his words, not mine) until the rumors were replaced by how much of a stud I was. Not much of a plan, really; I could tell back when I was plain old Myrc what that would lead to.

Having someone else say that they wanted to just be there for me, felt kinda warm... kind of nice. But letting him know I felt that way would be a disaster... it was against the bro code!

"I can handle myself you know, I'm not helpless."

"True, but I don't want to see giant mecha roaming the halls spouting "kill all humans."

I rolled my eyes and shot back the best I response I could, since Mr Mullins had just entered and was staring us all down.

"Nerd."

"Geek."

Mr. Mullins broke it (and many other such conversations like it) up:

"If you'd all turn to page 243 in your textbooks, we will discuss polynomials."

Boooooorrrring. So very boring. So boring the light from merely boring, could not even reach where I was. So it was time to run a few more numbers of my own. This time however, I decided to focus more. I didn't like the trance that my brain seemed to need to do anything, so I decided I'd take a page from all those self-help books and psychiatrists, and try meditating my way into wakefullness while using my so called power. While I could do the equations that a week ago I hadn't even known existed, it felt slow... like a lagging internet connection or

something. At least there was no pain, and I wasn't passing out.

The lack of those two were always a plus.

Math class was uneventful, and only two people fell asleep during the droning, the horrible droning... a new record in attention, actually. Usually I was one of the victims. That might explain the surprised looks Mr. Mullins was shooting me as I worked. Thankfully he didn't ask me any questions, I didn't feel like answering any of those. I was sure he'd gather the nerve to soon enough though.

But for today at least I was free. And the calculations were complete. I was fairly certain that even nuclear power was unequal to the power my engine needed; too much weight. Even with a completely stripped nuclear plant, running only one fuel rod, the core alone would weigh half a ton. There was no way I could attach enough of my new engines to that to generate lift enough to make the craft any fun at all. So I'd have to use something else.

That only left two other options for power; fission of other materials (like hydrogen perhaps) or harnessing a micro black hole. I just needed more then the standard 1% conversion rate humanity made do with since the days of fires in caves. Made me wonder how the other devisors did it; either they were making their own versions of what I needed and not broadcasting the discovery, or they hadn't done it yet, and were using something more esoteric, like cow flatulence or something.

If they had done it before me, it was a pure waste; cheap effective power given to death rays and war machines. The best power humanity currently had was nuclear, which was the most efficient out there, and was very safe (when the human element didn't betray safety features). But a good fission reaction using normally inert materials, like water, could solve so many problems it was a pure wonder to me no one had beaten me to the punch.

Perhaps the corporations resisted such changes? Maybe the governments did? I could sort of see that; if they didn't understand the tech, they would be very wary of it. And I doubt most devisors of any stripe have the charisma and desire to try marketing their own inventions, probably making the decision to shelve them instead to avoid the headache. Perhaps my power plant, should I be successful in devising one, should remain proprietary after all.

"Hey, you ok?"

I looked into Ralph's face from six inches away. My very not startled reflex was to pull away. Luckily I stifled most of the noise I wanted to make.

"Gah!"

I had been sitting in class after the bell rang, my brain had gotten away from me, so to speak. Less than two seconds had passed, but I had just done quite a bit of thinking in that elapsed time. Everyone else was getting up to leave, and when I hadn't moved with my customary alacrity, Ralph had leaned over to inquire about my health.

"Yeah I'm fine, was just thinking about why more devisors don't market all those better mouse traps they build. It just doesn't make much sense to me."

I got up and slid out, Ralph creating his own wake behind me.

"Well I don't know much about it, but I think the main problem with devisors doing that is non-devisors can't use the stuff, which means that if the devisor sells the better mousetrap, then he has to run and maintain it. Very few devisors want to be shackled to past projects, useful or not. Patent laws and the marketing business probably seal the deal."

On to the next class while Ralph went to his; he didn't have geography. Lucky him; I shared the class with Ricky, but also shared it with Pam and Gordon. While Gordon was suspended for attacking me, I couldn't really trust Pam anymore either; after all, she'd been standing right behind Gordon when he flipped, and hadn't said a word. I could feel the tacit approval of Gordon's actions, and that confused me. I had thought Pam and I were friends. On the bright side, the class was basically all reading, and due to my mutation, I had finished the entire book already and could recite all the important details from memory.

Of course that just made the class more boring than math; so I sat alone surrounded by people, calculating and recalculating power delivery systems. The main issue with power was ironically, power. In order to use what I wanted, the safest power system delivering the most power, I would have to have enough power to light the world for a day, or a major city like D.C. for a year. In order to get that I'd have to build a less powerful and slightly less safe power system.

I suppose I could always just ionize a gas and put the resulting plasma under electromagnetic containment, forcing it to generate power. Almost completely stable, fairly safe... if it breached, the disaster would be local. Likely only the engineer in charge of it would be killed. Or the pilot, if I put it in the aircraft. The power generated would be... roughly 4.6 times the equivalent of a gallon of water, when compared to deuterium. Hmm. Not enough, not nearly enough. But it could work as a stopgap, while I build a second fusion generator and had that working on the other power source... but then I'd need power storage....

"Minerva!"

So annoying, I had to think on this li-on battery problem, and Mrs. Carson just derailed my train of thought. Without thinking I responded.

"Copenhagen."

The flabbergasted look on her face was priceless.

"What?"

"Oh come on Mrs. Carson, you were discussing Denmark, and the first question you always ask after going over exports of a country is it's capital. The capital of Denmark is Copenhagen. Am I wrong? Were you going to ask me something else?"

I tried, but couldn't completely keep my exasperation from bleeding into my tone. I sent her a silent eye apology, which she seemed to see. I had no idea why I was so irritated; normally being interrupted like that wouldn't be a problem! What was wrong with me?

"No, you're right. I had no idea I had become so predictable. Moving on...."

Well, at least I passed the attention check, and could go back to work. I'd apologize after class for being rude. I'd need space for all this activity; the basement wouldn't be good enough. But where could I do all that? I was pretty sure mom, let alone the city council, wouldn't let me do all this within city limits, if they let me do it at all. I'd need a very large work space, and a much larger three dimensional printer for the best and quickest results. But nothing like that existed around here; the best buildings for all that were warehouses, and the ones around here just were not big enough, even if I could get the money to buy one somehow. My family was well off, but we were far from rich. Mom and Dad worked for a living.

Well, first thing was first; I could at least go with the fusion option. Enough minimizing the components and I could get it to the size of a good closet. As it stood, I was looking at one maybe half the size of our entire basement. I wonder if Dad would let me make it in the basement....

The bell signaling the end of class shattered my thoughts. I had managed to keep a good measure of control with almost painful concentration, but now I felt flushed; hot. I stood and after a fleeting moment the feeling passed.

"Min! Hi. How you doing?"

I heard Maggie chime up from behind, but didn't turn to her yet.

"I'm pretty good Maggie, wait for me a sec while I talk to Mrs Carson?"

"Sure!"

It should be illegal to be that chipper. I wondered for a second if she was on stimulants. I mean, I was and I couldn't pull that bounce and tone off. But I could ask her in a few seconds.

"Mrs. Carson?"

"Yes Min?"

"I wanted to apologize earlier, I was rude and I'm sorry."

"It's alright Min, I accept your apology. What was distracting you? You obviously had other things on your mind, for all that you got the answer to my question correct."

"Um, I was working on power systems. I really don't want to go into more detail here, I might be late for the next class. But chances are I'll be doing that sort of thing in your class a lot; I can't really help myself. I've already read the textbook cover to cover and after that, well..."

She finished for me.

"After that the class is boring?"

"Exactly; sorry. I can't help myself."

"It's alright Min, I'm not angry. If you already know the material, then I'm content. You'll be the first kid I've graduated with an A in 6 years... won't you?"

Okay, she could pull off a scary look too. Wonder how everyone knew how to do that but me?

"Yes ma'am. Got to go!"

I booked it through the now mostly empty classroom before she could question me in more detail. Unfortunately that left Maggie, during the long walk to gym.

"So, what had you scribbling away like mad earlier?"

"You already know, the jet engine idea. I've narrowed it down to one of the power systems I didn't want to use, but it should work. I'll have to use at least 3 of them, more likely 4, and I'll need to include a fuel tank for the deuterium that will have to be about the size of a small water heater... In fact a water heater should work. Then I'll need a car battery for the initial start up of the electromagnetic containment system...."

She interrupted me, just in time, as we put our books away. I grabbed my previously hidden laptop out of my bag, and she spared it a glance as she asked:

"You're really going through with it, aren't you? You're really going to build... an experimental jet?"

"Well, yes. Why wouldn't I?"

"Um... no reason. My offer to help still stands. I'd love to be a part of it, and Sam would too."

I thought about it, and mentally shrugged.

"Sure, but I have a few conditions."

"And those are?"

"Two conditions. One, you do what I say, when I say it. That's more for your safety than anything else, can't have you flicking a switch at the wrong time and blowing things up. The other is you don't ever print any technical details you pick up. I'm not sure I want my tech out there in the wide world yet, and even a school newspaper might be watched."

She thought about it about as much as I had. We strode into the gym before she spoke again.

"That's acceptable to me, and I'm sure Sam will go along. Meet you after school?"

Hmm, I wasn't sure I was going to start today. Though I probably would.

"Sure, though I'm not sure I was going to start on it today. Maybe just the design stage."

She nodded as I realized we were headed into the girl's locker room. I stopped with my face heating. I didn't need to go in there, wasn't like I needed to change for gym, so waiting out here or better yet just going to sit down was by far the more safe option. Unfortunately Maggie had other ideas.

"Seriously, get in here. We were talking, and I for one am not done. It's not like I'll be able to ask you questions during gym."

If I hadn't been turned away from the door, doing the gentlemanly thing, I wouldn't have been caught like that. What was it with everyone grabbing me today? Maybe I should invent a teflon suit or something; something one could not grip. Hmm....

"Well, what more do you want to know?"

I was a bit curious, how much more detail could she need? She started stripping quickly; we were among the last students here, and late students ran laps. I looked into the sea of flesh; most of my fellow students were ignoring me, more than a few were listening in (like Sam, with an almost laser-like focus three lockers down). Very few were doing any covering up. I could well appreciate the effort. Fortunately for them I suppose, the best I could manage to feel was an idle curiosity. An idle curiosity that made me both sad... and worried.

"The design stage, what's involved in that?"

"well it's where I look at the basic design, go over the math again, design the individual parts and test their tolerances and stresses. and other such boring things. Mostly it's all done by computer modeling."

I could tell she wasn't going to give up that easily.

"Sounds great; We'll be waiting at the gate after school, OK?"

Sam was nodding so hard I thought her neck would snap and her head would roll across the floor.

"Um, sure. Anything else?"

"Nah, that's all I wanted, thanks. Enjoy the extra study time. What is it for us today?"

Sam spoke.

"Wiffleball."

"Wiffleball?!? Oh man...."

Wiffleball was an actual activity? Wow. The guys were doing basketball today I think. At least I could still watch it, if I wasn't allowed to play anymore. And I'd have company; Ralph was already there, 4 bleachers up and already reading. I joined him with my laptop in tow.

"Hey."

He looked up, a bit startled, and gave a little wave.

"Hey. How goes things?"

"Could be worse."

I wasted no time booting up and starting on my CAD program. If I wanted to draft and run computer simulations, the best way to handle it would be to make the software involved myself. I already had a good headstart thanks to the program I used to make the printer.

"Wow your fingers are blurring."

"Hmm, so they are. I'm working on this program and I need it done as soon as possible. With luck I can get it done by the end of school. That is, if I'm allowed to work on it in study hall."

"They might, if you can prove to them you aren't doing something silly like movies or facebook."

I looked at the string of code I was working on; it was already 4,263 characters long. I doubted coach Howard could even read C+, let alone tell that it was for three-dimensional modeling.

"I don't think that will be a problem."

After all, coach would still trust me, right?

"Heads up!"

That yelled warning was enough to take me back... and start the instinctive ducking process; I was huddling over my computer before I saw the ball, which was coming from literally nowhere at high velocity to nail Ralph in the back of the head. It bounced off as he glared in the direction it had come from. And lo and behold, there was Monty, his stance looking suspiciously like he was passing the ball... to Ralph. But Ralph had been in front of me, and leaned down to look at the screen. Which meant that Monty, a friend of mine, had most likely tried to bounce a basketball off my tender face.

"You okay?"

He didn't seem to be hurt badly, his eyes were clear and the death glare he was giving Monty showed no hint of confusion.

"Yeah I'm fine, it'll take more than that to hurt me. The one good thing I got from my mutation."

Coach Howard hadn't seen anything, of course. The pass had been timed for when his back was turned. Or perhaps a suitable distraction had been made; I saw he had been chatting with Chris, another member of the basketball team. The ball itself had taken a favorable bounce and was already back on the court. Without further ado I started down the bleachers. I didn't make it past two steps before an arm blocked my way. I looked Ralph in the eye.

"Don't. Don't bother, it's not a problem."

"It IS a problem, Monty just threw a ball at one of us. I want to know what his malfunction is."

He shook his head. "It's not a problem, I already told you, they can't hurt me like that."

I walked around him. "Just because they can't hurt you like that, doesn't mean they should be left alone to try."

"Just let it go; he aimed at me, and we already know why. He hates mutants."

Reluctantly, I sat. Monty hadn't even come over to fake apologize, the jerk. Of course he was getting beat off the dribble, so maybe we could claim a karmic victory?

"Don't worry, I'll keep an eye out for both of us."

With a shrug I started in again. It's probably true that confronting Monty with words would be a lost cause. I doubted I'd win a fight either, so that was out. Ralph could probably win such a fight, but never fought anyone who gave him crap; which was usually why I would step in before. Hmm, what could the reason for that be? Win a few fights, and even Gordon would leave you alone. At least until he smelled weakness. Bullies

often seemed similar to sharks, at least to me. Monty was at least a little more intelligent than Gordon, and would theoretically require fewer beatings. So why would Ralph hold back? It didn't really make any sense.

Of course it seemed rude to ask, and I didn't want to appear stupid in any case, so I let it slide. Plenty of time to figure it out later.

Coach Howard had never even glanced my direction; I took that as tacit approval of my computer use in my now free gym time. The rest of class was uneventful. then the bell rang and I was free for lunch! I loved my laptop, it just went to sleep when folded, saving everything. The battery life was top notch too. I was out of gym like a shot, for once able to avoid all the people who wished me ill. I'd seen the looks Pam had shot me earlier, and no doubt Monty would love to beat on any freaky mutant. Not to mention Gordon's football circle was still lurking about.

It was an almost physical relief to see Jeeves waiting outside, a red-checkered blanket spread under the tree I liked, a picnic basket lying on one corner of it and various plastic wrapped sandwiches, fruits and a piece of some sort of pie lying scattered about. The blanket was also a relief; I felt a little tired and it would be good to rest. The rose, in a vase in the center would undoubtedly be knocked over in seconds.

"Good afternoon mistress Min, you are one minute twelve seconds earlier than expected. Today I have a selection of fresh sandwiches; the Au blanch de paulet, the Au blanc de dindonnean, and the Rosbif en tanches. As a side I have selected fresh blackberries, raspberries, apples, and blueberries. The pie is Rhubarb. The thermos on the left contains coffee, the one on the right contains V8 juice."

I decided I'd better learn french. The sandwiches looked to be made with a few different ingredients, but they appeared to be a chicken sandwich, a turkey club, and a roast beef sandwich. The only real difference seemed to be the sauces on them, at least at a glance.

"Got a small pillow hidden somewhere?"

With a grin he pulled a small white pillow from the basket.

"As it happens mistress Min, I do. How do you feel?"

I sat and chose what I thought was the roast beef; food came first, then a little rest. I was fairly sure Jeeves would insist on it. Those looked amazing too. As I unwrapped it Jeeves pulled out a small mp3 player with earbuds. I did not recognize it. The other students who were inclined to leave for lunch started filing out; there were a few curious stares, but very few people came within fifty feet of us. That was a fact for which I was grateful.

Upon closer inspection and a careful test bite, the sandwich revealed itself to be roast beef and swiss, with some type of weird tomato and horseradish spread on both sides of the french bread. It was nothing short of a delicious blend of odd flavors. I really did need to learn french; no doubt Jeeves would slip something like powdered baby cow heart or something in my food sooner or later. I'd need to be ready to identify it.

"Min!"

I looked up so see a near impossible sight. A nearly breathless Maggie running up to us, Sam in tow. She looked angry. Even Sam wore a slightly accusing stare.

"Min, why didn't you wait for us?"

"Um, I wasn't aware I needed to?"

She shook her head a bit and muttered something I didn't catch. I tried again.

"I'm sorry?"

She plunked herself down next to my left and Sam took my right, acting almost as if I'd run or something. The look she shot Jeeves was still more than a little awestruck. Jeeves did not seem to care.

"It's okay I guess, but from now on, wait for us, alright? We can all have lunch together. It's more fun that way."

"Alright. Help yourselves, I don't think I'm going to eat three sandwiches anyway."

Hmm, three sandwiches and assorted fruit, and three people; had Jeeves known somehow? If so, how? I mean he had some software designed to replicate intuition, but was that what was at work here? He noticed me looking and gave an enigmatic smile. Oh yes, he had known somehow. And he wanted me to wonder about it, the jerk. Well I wasn't going to. I was going to wonder about the mp3 player. It was smaller than most, perhaps

the size of a USB flash drive. The earbuds had a sort of gel on them. It had no manufacturer's stamp.

"Something I found and filled with music for you, mistress min."

Well that made me even more curious. Finishing my sandwich and grabbing a handful of rasberries, I stuck the earbuds in and hit the power button. Immediately some soothing classical music started. Mozart? Chopin? I wasn't sure, but it was soothing. Stretching out with the pillow under me was almost a must now that I was full. I reopened my eyes when I felt two cold hands; one on my forehead, one on the side of my neck.

"You are flushed mistress Min, and chilled. Your blood pressure is low. Are you dizzy?"

Jeeves, doing his medical thing. His face had a kind cast to it as he looked down at me. The facial expression software was top notch too, I guess. Wish I remember how I did it.

"A little."

"Then rest. I shall warn you when lunch period is completed."

I didn't mean to sleep, but sleep I did. Before I knew it, I was being gently shaken awake. Forty minutes felt like seconds. I was very groggy on the return to consciousness; it took me some time to remember where I was and why. The music had changed from classical to electronic, something strangely peppy and infectious. I could almost feel the energy from it entering me. I pulled the earbuds out with regret. Sam and Maggie had apparently finished off the lunch basket, and were chatting softly about some shop or other next to me.

"Ugh, that time already?"

Jeeves did his hand thing.

"You should be well enough to continue school, should you wish to. How do you feel?"

I did not want to continue school. Sigh.

"Well enough I suppose, a bit out of it. I should be okay for school, it's only two hours left, and one of those is study hall."

He helped me gently to my feet.

"Do not overexert yourself. Should you need me, do not hesitate to call."

"I won't, trust me." I'd be a fool not to use the few tools I had available, right?

"Everything OK?" Maggie asked. Sam nodded as if to second the question.

"Just fine.' I stated as we started off, 'I just get tired alot anymore. The anemia thing."

"Oh yeah, I heard about that, and looked anemia up online, did you know it's normally tied in with blood pressure? Low blood pressure specifically...."

And she was off, hurricane Maggie was in full category 5 mode. I just took a step back and buckled in. On the other side of Maggie, I noticed Sam doing the same. She returned my grin with a slight one of her own. It was hard not to like Sam, she was so open and expressive, all without saying a word.

Because I shared study hall with Sam and Maggie, I was able to listen to every inane fact and rumor that Maggie could dredge up from the internet, much of which I already knew. The thing about an anemic's blood being good for vampires was new, and not something I wanted to try confirming. Assuming I could even find a vampire; I probably could if I tried. Of course when we got to class, due to the 'sit anywhere' policy, Sam and Maggie sat next to me. I set my stuff down in the front middle desk, and they took the desks on either side. I wanted Coach Howard to see anything that happened to me/us. I was well within easy speaking range.

"Coach."

He looked up from his sports illustrated.

"Yes Min?"

"Do you mind if I use my computer here? My homework is done, and I want to work on a computer program."

"If you don't mind me periodically checking what you're doing to make sure you aren't hacking the pentagon or posting selfies, then sure."

"I don't mind."

Maggie leaned in close to whisper.

"Min, why did you pick here? Coach Howard can hear everything we say!"

"He can also see anything that happens to us; I'm not so sure being near me is safe at the moment."

Sam broke her silence.

"Why?"

"Well before lunch in gym, while you were on the other side of the gym, Ralph got nailed by a basketball, thrown by Monty... on purpose. No doubt in my mind it was on purpose. The thing is, Ralph was leaning down between me and the gym floor at the time, which means Monty could have been aiming at me, and Ralph just got in the way. Now Monty isn't here, but some of his friends are, and they sit in the back."

Silas and Dean, I knew they sat in back because not too long ago, I'd have sat next to them. They were always cheerful, with a ready joke. But who knew how they felt about me now? About mutants?

"Well then Coach Howard is just going to have to put up with me!" Maggie declared loudly, and to his credit coach Howard didn't even look up as he replied.

"If you mix talk about homework with whatever else you want, I won't mind it at all. However I know you, Margaret. Your homework is NOT done. So get to it."

She grumbled but complied. Sam had already started hers... algebra for both of them, it looked like. I gave a shrug and brought the computer out of sleep, finding the code right where I left it.

"Um, hey Min, you know the answer to number 4 here? I can't get it to work."

I glanced over, it was a quadratic equation involving decimals. Fairly easy, if a little harder than what my class was working on.

"X = 4."

"You sure?"

"You asked, that's it. All you do is multiply both sides by 10 to remove the decimals."

I could see Sam on the other side of me erasing her answer, and writing mine.

"Oh, that's all? Mr. Mullins made it sound so complicated."

Sam broke her silence again, for the second time in an hour.

"He does that."

My fingers hadn't even slowed.

"Yes he does, doesn't he? Oh well, I can help you if you get stuck. just try to actually do it first."

Forty minutes and three more algebra questions later, study hall ended. It had been uneventful, for all that Silas and Dean had been seated behind us and three rows down. The noise had been kept to a low roar, and my head had cleared completely. I was if anything, even more tired than I had been at lunch though. The good news was the coding was almost complete enough to test.

I waved to Mrs. Holmes as I entered, among the last to arrive. I had carefully put my computer away, and that took time. I took the opportunity to whisper to her while handing in my homework.

"Mrs. Holmes, I'm tired. Really tired. I'm going to try and stick it out, but if I fall asleep please don't get mad at me, okay?"

She looked as if she wanted to argue, took a good look at me, and just nodded.

"Do your best. Things will get better."

"Thanks."

Ricky had his customary seat for this class, Mrs. Holmes tolerated no seating chart shenanigans. The droning about participles was immense. Ricky did not dare the wrath of Mrs. Holmes with conversation, though he clearly wanted to. With herculean effort I managed to stay awake, but it was a close call. Mrs Holmes clearly appreciated the effort.

And then school was out, and Maggie and Sam once again bracketed me for the uneventful walk out into the sunshine.

Maggie was supplanted by Jeeves so rapidly I would have sworn it was teleportation. For all of that she wasn't knocked over or hurt, just as startled as I was.

“Mistress Min, you are unwell.”

Mental face palm. I wondered how obvious it was.

“Yes Jeeves, thank you, I had noticed.”

He pondered this for a moment before turning to Maggie.

“I am sorry Miss Johnson. You may resume; Mistress Min, I shall walk behind you, as is proper.”

I rolled my eyes as Maggie stood there, trying to catch flies in her mouth. It was the wrong season for it, but she tried anyway.

“Come on Maggie, that's about as good an apology as you're going to get. He's a bit off. I haven't had time to fix him yet.”

“...Right. OK. So... did you see what Jenny had on today?”

Sam nodded while I'm sure I looked confused.

“Jenny Prichart?”

“Yes!”

Maggie giggled. Sam snickered.

“What was wrong with what she had on today?”

She had wore a purple skirt and lavender top.

“Are you kidding? She looked so stupid! Not enough contrast. Worst fashion statement ever.”

Sam nodded. I just shrugged. I wouldn't make that mistake; after all with my hair and eye color wearing purple would look hideous.

They continued gossiping in that fashion as I led the way home; which was a little weird, come to think of it. They would be the first girls I'd ever brought home. And I'd had to change into one for it to happen.

And just as suddenly I found myself floating, my head swimming a little. Suppressing a spike of fear, I looked up into Jeeves's eyes. It took another second for it to click; he was carrying me! I tried to tell him to put me down; it took a few tries to get the words to come.

“Darn it Jeeves what are you doing?”

He put his eyes front to avoid some yahoo riding a bike on the sidewalk.

“I cannot. You were collapsing. If I put you down now, you will be unable to walk or stand.”

Maggie, unseen to my left (my head was being cradled by Jeeves somehow) corroborated.

“It's true, you just started to fall all of a sudden and Jeeves just barely caught you before you hit the ground. He's very fast.”

...Crap.

I could feel the sensation of movement, so Jeeves hadn't stopped. The motion made my vision swim a little, and the world was too bright. Jeeves was carrying me bridal style again (which was better than a fireman's carry, I supposed) but I could barely move my arms off my stomach; for some reason they felt made of lead.

“Um, look Min, if you're sick, we can do this later....”

I wanted to shake my head, but didn't dare try.

“No, this isn't an illness I can really run from or wait out. If I stay awake I'll be working. If I'm working, you guys might as well stay and watch.”

Sam surprised me.

“Not watch; help.”

“Right, sorry. My bad there. Just remember, don't touch anything unless I say to, and stay away from the 3d printer itself. It's a little... twitchy.”

I could see Maggie's compulsion to ask drag the words from her.

“How twitchy?”

“It tried to eat Jeeves when he went to put metal in it.”

Maggie and Sam pondered that. Sam struck first this time.

“Jeeves is made of metal, isn't he? Could that be the reason why he was targeted?”

I blinked. Of course, that made all kinds of sense.

“Probably, but I really don't want to risk finding out that theory is wrong. That thing is a little weird.”

“Weirder than Jeeves?”

I looked up at him.

“Nah, about the same. You'll see.”

We made it back, but Jeeves still wouldn't let me down. At his insistence, Maggie opened the garage door. She actually looked hesitant about it; something I wouldn't have expected.

Meanwhile I was getting a little less weighty – I could move my arms and legs a little now.

The sun cut the gloom of the interior nicely. The day was a little chilly, but my coat solved that problem. Jeeves ensconced me in a chair. This chair had not existed yesterday, I felt sure.

It was an office chair in black, only much larger. So large I pretty much could lose myself in it. It had cushioned armrests and a slight depression that sort of made me lean into the back of it. I didn't slide either. So if I were unconscious, or half conscious, rather than pitching forward, I would pitch back and stay in the chair, rather than bounce my head off concrete.

Ingenious. It looked a little like a modern art masterpiece, but it was ingenious.

“That's a weird chair. Where did you get it?”

“Jeeves, did you make this last night?”

“I did mistress Min. I felt it would be good for you to have a chair you could fall asleep in safely, if necessary.”

“And no one saw it?”

“Your father left this morning in quite the hurry. Your mother might have seen it, but I was not present to witness her thoughts.”

I frowned.

“And what were you doing all day then?”

“Watching you mistress Min. then cooking your lunch. Then watching you.”

I was able to move enough, so I pulled out my computer.

“And where were you doing that?”

Sam spoke up, oddly enough.

“From the large tree you eat under. It's just outside school grounds but you can see inside several classrooms with it.”

Maggie gaped at Sam as Jeeves nodded assent. I didn't want to know, but she just had to ask.

“And how do you even know that?”

“Thursday nights.”

What? That made no sense to me, but Maggie nodded slowly as if it did.

“So what happens on Thursday nights that you need a large tree outside the school for?”

They both made a point of ignoring the question, crowding in front of my computer on either side and looking at the schematics. From the way their faces colored it was potential blackmail material.

“So what's the first step?”

“Well the first step is to take the parts one piece at a time, feed them into the 3D printer, and wait for the printer to make them. After that it's simply putting the pieces together. Of course I still have a few parts to design, so I'll be doing that. It's hardly any sort of riveting amusement.”

Maggie pulled up a couple lawn chairs and unfolded them, one for herself and one for Sam. They sat down, again flanking me.

“You just let us be the judge of that. Just do what you do.”

With a shrug I started in, designing one of the blade cowlings. It looked like a big tube on the screen, and while Maggie was rapidly glancing around and watching other things (especially when the printer fired up to build the first fan blade) Sam's eyes never moved from the screen.

I had the cowling half complete when I felt myself beginning to fade again. Jeeves came back with coffee just in time. As I sipped he pulled a cushioned footstool over and rather pointedly set my feet on it. Then he removed my shoes.

Maggie watched him with wide eyes and a large grin, teeth on full display.

“What?”

If anything she stretched that grin even wider. I looked over to find Sam with a faint smile too. For her, that was the equivalent of Maggie's grin.

“Jeeves takes good care of you.”

Well of course he does. That's his job.

“He's supposed to. Thank you for the coffee Jeeves, it's wonderful.”

Sam seemed to wrestle with herself for a moment, then blurted out:

“May I have some coffee?”

I slapped my forehead.

“Crap, I'm sorry! I'm your host, and I didn't even think to ask! Jeeves would you...?”

“Certainly mistress Min.”

I spared an expectant glance at Maggie. As I expected, it didn't take long for her to chime in.

“A coke would be great Jeeves, please.”

“Of course Miss Johnson.”

Jeeves came back with the requested refreshments while I marveled at the difference having my feet propped up made. It really did seem to help with my awareness and focus. In short I felt more awake. Between that and the coffee, maybe I could finish and get this idea out of my head.

“This is... great coffee.”

I looked over; Sam had finished hers already. I looked in my mug; it was half full. She works fast.

“Sorry, should have warned you; it's something mom called “devisor coffee”. I use filtered water and beans scanned for traits shown to make the best coffee, purified by....”

Her eyes were shining brightly as she stared into mine. She was hanging on my every word; I wasn't sure if she was gleaning the meaning from them. Maggie's eyes were glazed over though.

“Right. Suffice to say that I reworked the coffee machine to make better coffee. Another cup?”

“Yes, please.”

Without a word, Jeeves grabbed our mugs, coming back moments later with our mud colored liquid gold. A murmured thanks and I was back in the game, cowling specs almost complete and math solved.

When Jeeves got back, Ian followed him in. The garage was getting crowded.

“Hey sis, you have guests... how unusual.”

I wanted to throw a pillow at him.

“Jeeves make a note; we need pillows in here for next time.”

Ian opened his mouth, but Maggie beat him to the punch.

“Pillows?”

“For annoying little pests that sneak in and make snide comments. So what's up Ian?”

He spent a little time looking between my new friends and gathering his wits. It didn't take that long; he didn't have that much to gather.

“Was just checking to see where the party was; Jeeves came out here with two mugs after all. I expected Ricky. You OK?”

He finally noticed my feet up and lack of general movement.

“Just a little tired. No idea where Ricky is, I think he is on his way. I kind of expected him to be here by now.”

He stepped up, trying to gain space between Sam and myself. Sam wasn't having any of it, and shot him a pretty venomous look. She seemed really into this; who knew? Ian felt the heat but tried to act nonchalant.

“So what's the project for today?”

I thought about it, but decided to keep it simple. Very simple.

“A small jet.”

He showed me I was right to keep it simple; if this level of excitement was what he showed when hearing those three words, what would he d when he found out how I would power it, or what it's flight capabilities were?

“A jet?!?! Awesome!!! I've always wanted to fly!”

“I'm afraid if you want to fly, you're going to have to build your own, at least at first. It'll have to be properly tested first.”

“And who is going to be stupid enough to do that, sis?”

I looked at the assorted crowd, all of whom seemed to be staring at me in a most unnerving fashion. Sam even looked eager! Eager!

“Jeeves, of course.”

Instantly I was descended on. The trio leaned well into my personal space in a disturbing manner. While I blinked at the unusual behavior.

“No! Bad idea Min!”

“Is Jeeves a competent pilot?”

“Not a good plan sis!”

Why wasn't it? Jeeves could learn how to fly a jet as easily as any of us. Perhaps even easier. I turned to Maggie, ignoring Ian rather pointedly. He deserved all the frustration I could give him.

“Why not?”

“Jeeves takes care of you. If you send him up in that jet and it blows up, who's going to carry you if you collapse, or bring you lunch, or help you build stuff?”

Sam nodded furiously. Ian was pouting to much to agree.

I am an idiot.

“Right, I got it...”

Sam's eyes were shining again; I almost hated to dash the hope in them.

“...so I'll have to build a pilot to test it.”

Sam and Ian both pouted while Maggie perked up. I couldn't imagine why they would want to risk getting blown up to fly an experimental jet; it's like they thought I wouldn't let them fly one later or something. Of course if I told them I would, mom would kill me. So my hands were kind of tied.

“You mean another Jeeves, right?”

And that explained Maggie's interest.

“Not quite, he will be a test pilot, devoted to test piloting. Jeeves is more of the domestic type. But he will be an android, yes. I really need to work out the bugs before I make another Jeeves. I mean, look at him!”

They looked. Some of the wind let out of Maggie's sails, but not much. I could almost hear her saying to herself: 'another android is one step closer, bwah ha ha!'

Well I imagined she'd bwah ha ha.

“Hey, wow, it's a party. Hi everyone.”

Ricky! Ricky would save me from the crazy people!

“Hi Ricky! Where have you been? I kind of expected you before now.”

He walked up and looked over my shoulder.

“Got side tracked talking to one of the teachers. What's this?”

“Parts for that jet engine I was talking about. In this case, the cowling. The fan should be finishing up in the printer, actually.”

Right on cue, it dinged.

“An oven timer?”

I absently corrected Sam's assumption.

“An old microwave timer, actually.”

“I thought it sounded like an egg timer.”

Ricky had the best comment.

“Ding! Fries are done!”

memes for the win.

“Alright, time for the next part.”

I dutifully added the next part design to be machined/printed; the turbine shaft. The printer started to work again immediately as Jeeves carefully retrieved the fan. Sam leaned closer, placing her head mere inches from mine. I tried to draw back a little, but her weight pinned me in place. She didn't seem to notice.

“How are you doing that?”

“Doing what?”

“The laptop isn't hooked up to the printer. Is it wireless?”

“Well yeah, from this laptop at least. I wrote the protocols for it a few days ago. The printer is basically a big dumb system with a network interface. You can't just walk up to it and punch buttons; it needs a computer to make it work.”

“Not just any computer, right?”

I shook my head.

“No, it needs one with my interface protocols installed. Otherwise just anyone could use it, and I don't like that idea much. I met a mutant during my powers testing who was a real idiot, and if he could use it he'd probably blow up the world or something.”

I wasn't sure how X-ray could manage that, but if there was a way, I was confident he could find it. He'd never get one of my inventions if I could help it.

Apparently I shouldn't have said something like that; everyone looked pretty nervous now, except for Ian, who was grinning and nodding along. He wasn't all that impressed with X-ray either.

“Guys don't worry, I've got it under control! In order to get on this laptop you need my password, my voice, and my eyes. In case anyone hasn't noticed, I have some very rare eyes. It'd be hard for anyone to fake them, even if they got everything else. My secrets are very safe.”

Maggie nodded, convinced. Sam looked a little green; I think she was contemplating future kidnapping attempts by super villains or something. Ricky just looked bored. Ian looked... where was Ian?

Ian looked nervous, returning with a mountain dew for Sam, who took it graciously. No drinks for the rest of us, those were handled by Jeeves, who came out a moment later. I met Ian's eyes, my own eyebrows raised... and he blushed. Interesting. I couldn't tell if Sam didn't notice, or just pretended not to.

“What? Jeeves couldn't carry all the drinks without a tray, so I helped.”

“Nothing, nothing. So is everyone good and bored yet?”

Maggie was, I could see it in her eyes, though she was trying valiantly to hide it. Sam was actually paying attention, which seemed more odd to me; in school she always seemed to pay attention, but this focus was something else – and slightly unnerving. Ricky was definitely bored, though he was splitting his attention between watching Jeeves, and watching the 3D printer with equal parts of wariness.

I get why he thought the printer was dangerous; I did too, at least mildly so. But Jeeves? Jeeves was harmless.

“Min, are you in here?”

Weird, mom sounded worried. Oops. Oh crap, I forgot to let mom know I was home. And I bet Ian didn't tell her. Jeeves coming in and out wouldn't have necessarily warned her, if she wasn't watching what he was doing.

“Yeah mom, I have guests!”

With luck she wouldn't yell at me in front of company. She had been keeping tabs on me lately. It was almost cloying, if it wasn't for that entire being necessary thing. She poked her head through the door and her hard gaze immediately softened when it fell upon me. Safe! Looking at me like that, I knew I wasn't in any real trouble.

“What are you doing in here?”

The unspoken message of why I hadn't come inside first was loud and clear.

“Showing Maggie and Sam the 3D printer and working on an engine. Jeeves kind of carried me home and stuck me in this chair. Sorry I didn't say anything.”

She didn't need to know what kind of an engine it was yet. She brushed off the apology.

“Did you make a new chair?”

“No, Jeeves made it last night. It's supposed to be good for me somehow.”

I didn't want to tell her exactly how, but apparently Jeeves had other ideas.

“It is made to improve blood circulation, as well as to be easy to rest in and difficult to fall out of.”

Mom took all that in in stride though, not getting angry. She was strangely calm and reflective instead as she asked:

“And Min is in it because she had an episode?”

Jeeves pondered that a moment. I wanted to tell him to shut up, but I had in act already spilled the beans as it were; I'd mentioned he carried me home. I never did respond well to motherly pressure. Instead of words, Jeeves nodded. She turned back to me.

“You alright now?”

“I think so.”

She nodded.

“Good, you can help me with dinner. Will your guests be staying?”

Sam was already breaking for the door, shaking her head violently. Maggie was at least more polite.

“Sorry Mrs. Campbell. Sam and I need to work on our homework. Wow, it's dark already!?!”

Oh crap, it was in fact getting dark; the sun had just set. A quick glance at my laptop showed it was after 5. Dad was going to wonder why dinner was so late, if we didn't hurry. Ricky was right behind Sam and Maggie in leaving, with a wave but not a single word. Very unlike him, he knows mom don't care if he stays for dinner. Jeeves shut the garage door behind them, and locked it.

I wobbled a little on my way up, but mom was already back inside and Ian was facing away from me, headed in himself. Jeeves noticed however, his arms slid under mine in order to make sure I wouldn't fall. I hadn't even heard him move the 12 or so feet, he was just there.

“I'm fine Jeeves. I was just a bit dizzy standing up.”

“You should stand up more slowly mistress Min. In low blood pressure situations it is best to approach the vertical posture slowly.”

“Yes, maybe, but we don't really have time for that! We need to make dinner before dad gets home!”

“Relax mistress Min. We have twenty minutes. That is plenty of time for the three of us.”

I went straight to the sink and washed up. I didn't think I touched anything really unsanitary, but mom would be angry if I didn't. Then I stopped. I couldn't cook anything at all. So why was I helping? Especially since we had Jeeves, who absolutely could? I mean, not that I'd tell her, but Jeeves made her cooking look like a skillet dinner.

“Mom?”

She was cutting carrots. She motioned me over and handed me the knife.

“Yes honey?”

“Why are we cooking dinner when we have Jeeves?”

“Because I want to, and I want you to help me. Jeeves is good for you, and good for us... but you'll still need to know how to do things on your own. Just in case. Besides, Jeeves doesn't really know how to make our family stew. So we're teaching him. Now hurry up, the meat is of course ready; but if we don't hurry the vegetables won't be cooked.”

She handed Jeeves a pot full of potatoes and a peeler. We both got to work. I could feel Jeeves's eyes on me however. I looked over and sure enough, he was watching me like a hawk, yet still somehow peeling the potatoes perfectly. Show off.

“Min, pay attention.”

Mom proceeded to tell me what all the spices she was using were, the exact amounts and amounts of veggies used, what types (Monterrey celery? I thought it was just celery) and how to pre-cook and season the meat, which was either beef or deer depending on the season (and whether mom could get venison).

All things she never bothered to explain to any of us before.

It was fairly confusing. On the one hand, cooking was chemistry, and was therefore very interesting. On the other hand, mom was sharing family secrets she never shared before... and that was kind of freaking me out. She was even letting Jeeves hear them and not demanding his silence.

In the end, dad was a little late, so we had dinner ready and on the table by the time he walked in. No rolls though, so we settled on bread and hoped he would be too tired to care. He did like his rolls with the stew.

I could tell the moment he stepped through the door how exhausted he was. His tie was undone and hanging loosely around his neck, he threw his briefcase in the corner by the door. (Mom had long since cleared that particular corner, after dad accidentally shattered a vase doing that.) He plopped in his easy chair, sniffing.

“Is that Campbell stew I'm smelling?”

“Sure is Mr. Campbell. Would you like some?”

“Sure would, just give me a minute. Sigh. Dealing with the regional boss sucks. He's a good guy, but has no idea how we do things here. It's too different from the other places on his route.”

He always was a bit tired after dealing with a boss. The regional boss was the worst.

“It smells a bit different, doesn't it? Did you try something new?”

Wow, some nose dad has.

“No, Min helped this time. I thought it was about time I taught another Campbell the recipe, and she... experimented when I wasn't looking, I think.”

Oh no, she's not pinning this on me!

“That's not true! Though I might have spilled a little too much cumin in there...”

Dad took another sniff.

“And a bit too much oregano, it smells like.”

Hmm, maybe. Mom was distracted harassing dad about his shoes, so I took a taste. It did taste different. Not bad though, just different. I liked it anyway.

“Tastes good to me.”

“Well with that ringing endorsement from the saucier, it has to be good. Come on, old man, to the table with you.”

Dad looked bemused, but he didn't dare mention mom was as old as he was. That path led to the couch for a week or more. Jeeves got the drinks than stood behind me, a silent presence I was very aware of. There was no conversation at first, just pleased noises. Dad broke the silence first.

“Well it could be worse. I was right about the oregano.”

“Duly noted, less next time.”

“Next time I teach you all the steps, including preparing the meat.”

“Sure thing mom.”

Alright so I was reasonably sure I wouldn't like cooking a lot; but learning how to prepare food every once in a while wouldn't be too big a chore. And then just as I started to relax, I was put on the spot.

“So how was your day? Any better?”

“Yes, made a few new friends, and the bullies left me alone.”

I wasn't about to tell them what happened in gym. Telling mom about Gordon had been a mistake, but that one I was forced into when the school called her. While not violating the schoolyard code could get me hurt...violating the schoolyard and bro code could get me very hurt, very fast.

I would have to rely on my wits, such as they were, to keep my head attached.

“Good. Let us know if that changes. Homework done?”

I snorted, which made mom frown. Underneath my non verbal apologetic face, I stated:

“I wouldn't dare work on anything without having my homework done first. You and mom made that very clear..”

“Good. Alright, so what were you working on in there? My car is done, and Jeeves is still whole, and the printer is done....”

“An engine, utilizing hydrogen from water.”

He looked up. Uh oh, he was actually paying attention.

“What kind of engine? Using hydrogen how?”

Crap, asked directly I couldn't lie. They would know.

“Well it's a jet engine, capable of splitting atoms for electricity heat and thrust, with about a 6% over all efficiency. It'll split a water molecule into both forms of hydrogen and oxygen, using the energy given off by the process to power the turbine and add a little additional thrust.”

I couldn't stop a self satisfied nod; I'd explained it pretty simply, and no one looked lost. Except maybe Ian.

“Both forms of hydrogen? More than one?”

“Protium and deuterium, respectively. They are both forms of hydrogen. Protium is more light and occurs more common in nature, while deuterium is heavier and doesn't.”

Dad interrupted.

“I think the most important thing we need to know is, is it safe?”

That hurt. That hurt a lot. Before I knew it I was shouting.

“Of course it's safe! The engine can't use more than a small glass full of water at a time at full throttle, and that's not enough to explode unless it's completely sealed off! Your car has a better chance of exploding! Your new car, not the beast! How dare you think that I would....”

“Minerva Myrcial Campbell! That is enough!”

My full name was enough to shock me to full awareness again. Dad was turning purple and rising from his chair, Ian was in full retreat and mom was in between us. I could feel Jeeves behind me; he shifted some and I was afraid of what that meant.

“Sorry mom.”

“I'm not the one that needs the apology.”

Oh no. Oh heck no. Not in a million years.

“I'm not apologizing to dad, mom. He just implied that I would endanger my family and friends.”

I didn't like the look in her eye; but I wasn't about to back down. Dad was in the wrong here. Surely they both saw it... and if they didn't I'd make them see it.

“You are going to apologize Minerva. Let's run down what we know about your condition. You've already built things without our permission, in the dead of night; things we only know a little about. Things that could be dangerous, whether they have been so far or not. You've been getting ahead of yourself due to this compulsion your type of mutant has.”

She was actually ticking off points on her fingers.

“And lastly, the printer you made seems to want to eat people and dance to music. Is that in the design specs anywhere? See where I'm going with this?”

My fingernails were cutting into my palms, and my vision was suddenly blurry.

“Actually the dancing is; and I think I know why it acted like it wanted to eat Jeeves... he's made of metals after all, and the 3D printer uses those. But yes I get the message loud and clear. I'm a menace; a walking, talking, ticking, time bomb, and you're all waiting for me to blow. You're right, I'll apologize.”

I turned to dad. I could barely see him. I'd left my glasses somewhere and the tears were in the way, so he was just a blob.

“I'm sorry I'm such a crazy screw up. I'll go ground myself now.”

One good thing about this body; it was light and very fast when it wanted to be. Only Jeeves was able to keep up with me, which suited me just fine. I let him in then slammed the door.

“You have any emergency lock down procedures designed to keep me safe in the event of a break-in?”

“Yes mistress Min, of course. Why do you ask?”

“I'd like to use them. Non- damaging of course, but I really don't want to talk to my family right now.”

He reached up faster than I could follow and wiped my eyes.

“They hurt you?”

That realization on Jeeves's part could prove everything my family was afraid of. I knew it could, and that just made everything worse.

“Not very much, but listen. You can't hurt them at all, understand? No matter what, they are my family. That's an order, and non negotiable. Just keep them away from me for a while.”

His eyes flashed red, then blue, then green before going back to normal.

“I understand mistress Min, and I obey. Please try to calm down and sleep. I will make sure none hurt you tonight.”

I nodded and blew a sigh. I tried to smile for him, but I don't think I succeeded. When he turned his back to secure the door I just flopped on my bed. My pillows were just as good at absorbing sobs as screams.

I woke with my face stiff with dried tears. I shrugged; it was getting to be a habit, if an unpleasant one. It wasn't even worth mentioning anymore really. A slight shift to a more comfortable position and Jeeves over me, his weirdly expressive face giving away his concern.

I had had a somewhat restful night; at least as restful as I normally did. I hadn't even been disturbed by anyone knocking on the door.

I tried to ignore the numb feeling. Not one of my family even cared enough to check on me. Maybe I was over reacting last night; perhaps I had been too distraught. But my family's lack of any concern at all for my emotional well being seemed to state otherwise. That realization that my formerly loving family thought they couldn't trust me still hurt; the fact that they didn't even care about how I felt about it shocked me to my core.

I gathered my clothes while Jeeves disabled the lock-down, which consisted of a small machine placed over the doorknob.

Then I opened the door.

Ian was sprawled out in the hall in a sleeping bag, snoring away. I nearly tripped over him. Quietly stepping over him, I looked back to warn Jeeves of his presence, and caught sight of the other side of my door.

It was now sporting large gouge marks, shallow but long. Perhaps made by a big knife? But they seemed too symmetrical, as if by five knives at once... or Freddy Krueger claws? The door knob itself was dented and broken.

In short at least someone had cared enough to beat the hell out of my door. And I hadn't heard a thing.

I held my finger to my lips to silence Jeeves, and he knew what it meant. We crept around, I into the bathroom and he into the kitchen. It was nearing 6 am, and while running into Ian was acceptable, running into my parents was straight out.

I hated confrontations, and was not willing to just forgive them right out. They really thought I was no better than that ass we had stirring up trouble over the summer. I didn't even know how I could forgive that, even if I wanted to try.

Luckily enough, even though a quick shower now involved a good 20 to 25 minutes including waking up and hair time, no one seemed to be awake when I cautiously stepped out. Ian was still asleep, rather loudly. Out here he couldn't hear his alarm going off. I poked him with a toe as I went by.

“Zzznerk. What?”

“Wake up little brother, you'll miss school.”

“Huh? Min!?!”

And I was promptly rewarded for my good deed of the day by being knocked down by a meat projectile.

“Ow! Ian, shhh! Mom and dad are asleep, and I want it to stay that way!”

Say what you want about my little brother, but he was never really slow on the uptake. He looked like he wanted to explode under the pressure of unspoken words, but instead he hugged me tight for a moment and then got off.

“Sorry.”

I had a feeling that apology was meant for more than knocking me down or yelling.

“Don't worry Ian, I'm fine. None of what happened was your fault.”

He was smart alright... he caught the lie as soon as I said it.

“What time is it?”

“7:30.”

“Oh my god I'm going to be so late! Look, I need to get ready, but trust me on this, alright? They didn't mean it. They were out here all night, trying to get to you; we all were. Jeeves did something to lock us out.”

“I know, I asked him to. Just go get ready, breakfast will be waiting for you. Try not to wake them up alright?”

“You know this isn't going to go away if you dodge them.”

He gave me a long suffering sigh which I ignored.

“No, it won't. But I just don't feel like it right now. I'd rather be in school than deal with this.”

I'd rather go to school than deal with my parents right now; how screwed up was that? I left him to get cleaned up and headed downstairs to find a simply huge omelet filled with an unusual smell completely covering my plate. My coffee was already done and steaming next to it, with a small milk on the other side.

The old me would have an issue eating all of that; the new me? No way I could.

Jeeves was busy making another one, a little smaller. I spotted bacon, ham, and basil going into the mix with the cheese. Rather than question it I just sat down with knife and fork.

Once that omelet was done and beverages distributed at Ian's customary table setting, Jeeves touched up my coffee and sat down. So, no breakfast for the parents. I should order him to do it, but I was feeling pretty petty. Heck for all I cared, dad could miss work.

I only managed to get half of breakfast down, but it was tasty. I wish I knew how Jeeves did it. Then again if I did I'd likely have to do it myself, and that would be wasting time better spent elsewhere. I had, even in the midst of my fever dream, built Jeeves for this very purpose after all.

I hoped I'd have a handle on this by the end of school today; if not I might have to find a place to stay. I half didn't want to come home. For all that my loving family seemed to care by trying to ruin my door, they didn't trust me. I really didn't want to stay where I wasn't trusted. But then again, where could I go? Where would I be trusted; if not by my family, then who?

I could deal with such things from strangers. The same from my friends, former friends, and peers alike. It hurt.. It hurt a lot. But I could do it. But from my family such lack of trust was an entirely new level of hurt. Sure, Ian said it wasn't like that, but what did he know? He was a kid.

“Stop it sis.”

Stop what?

“What?”

“You're brooding. I can see you doing it. Don't, you'll starting driving yourself crazy.”

“What do you mean you can see me do it?”

He grinned.

“And there is your curious face. I've been keeping an eye on you, and you're still as expressive as ever. I can tell what you're feeling just as well as I ever could, even the new things.”

“That's... pretty creepy, Ian. And what do you mean new things?”

“Well, you never used to brood before.”

I took a little offense at that, gathering my school supplies and shoving them in my backpack with perhaps a little more force than necessary.

“I wasn't brooding Ian.”

He shrugged.

“Well I don't know what else to call it.”

“How about thinking?”

Though I did used to think as Myrc... didn't I?

He shook his head again.

“Thinking implies you aren't worrying yourself to death looking for meanings that don't exist in statements other people make, and then contemplating doing something drastic about it.”

I rounded on him.

“I did not hear anything that mom didn't say. She said it, dad said it, they both said it. The only reason I'm talking to you is you didn't say it. Oh and Ian; you have dishes to do.”

I hit the door running, Jeeves right behind me. His indignant squawk was music to my ears. I was still a bit early, but the running felt good. Any physical activity I could actually do without collapsing felt good at this point, and physically I felt awake, and alert. My energy levels seemed better than they had been since my mutation.

Of course, I wasn't buying it. The anemia as supposed to be a persistent condition; but for now I would take what I could get. I blew past my resident shadows with waves for both, One of whom was in a car and returned my wave with rolled eyes, and the other....

The other was chasing me.

This had been the first time I had seen MCO agent Leonard Sands both close to me and alone. I admit the sight of him actually running after me filled me with a small amount of dread. Surely he wasn't silly enough to try kidnapping me off the street alone, with a CIA presence very aware and in a car not 50 feet behind us?

I was pretty sure Jeeves was not in the mood. One wrong move and MCO agent Leonard Sands would find himself a human pretzel, very likely with salt included. He had to know how he looked; a man in his mid 40's with a beaten up trench coat over a short sleeved dress shirt and slacks running after a young woman.

He looked rather ridiculous puffing along, in fact.

Ricky was not at our corner; I was apparently too early. Perfect. I decided to try and push it. Before I had the strength and conditioning to easily run all the way to school. Yesterday I had started at the midway point, but today I'd try for the full distance.

That and we would see if the MCO's finest could keep up. I am feeling pretty rude at the moment.

“Hey, come on Minerva! Wait up!”

Aww darn it. Now I couldn't pretend that I hadn't heard him.

“I'm trying something here Mr. Sands! Keep up please, then we can talk after!”

The minor annoyance of wasting breath melted away when I heard his yell of 'alright!' (thereby wasting his own breath) and another yell behind me. I think it was Ricky. I couldn't make out what he was yelling, and I admit I didn't try too hard.

Proper breathing was key. I managed to make it all the way to the school gates before I all but keeled over, feeling like my lungs would explode. Jeeves of course was right behind me, and was probably on his slowest setting. I bet he had the setting just to screw with me; that would explain so much!

The increased noise of clopping footsteps told me I had company. Mr. sands hauled up, blowing much harder than I did with clear reproach he couldn't properly express in his eyes. I waited patiently with a smile until he could resume upright posture.

“Miss Campbell, that was cruel. Simply cruel! I'm an old man, forced to follow you and then you run off just when I was going to ask you a question!”

“I'm sorry Mr. Sands, but I felt like running and decided to test my stamina while I was at it.”

“Oh? And how did you do?”

Was it me, or did I hear more interest than I should here?

“Terribly I'm afraid. Before I could have run this route with no problem, and still been able to run laps around the track. My forms getting better, but my stamina is still crap.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

I waved that off, even though he did sound genuinely sorry. Not much I could do to change it, it simply was. I wasn't even sure that my regen power would let me work my stamina back up; some forms of regen did, and some did not.

“Anyway, what was your question?”

He actually paused and gave a sort of shudder; the ripple seemed to transform him from butt of a joke to a serious professional.

“Did you notice anything strange happening around your house last night?”

Urk.

“No Mr. Sands, I didn't. Though Jeeves used some sort of device to block out sound; to help me sleep. Why, did something happen?”

“No, just thought I saw something is all. There was some yelling last night though...?”

“My family and I had a fight. I'd prefer not to talk about it.”

“You don't have to if you don't want to. Adjustments like this can be rough; I know, I've seen them all. For the record your family and hometown are accepting you much better than most would. Sorry, don't mean to preach; you better get going, you'll be late for class.”

He walked off with a wave just as Ricky showed up and tried to skewer him with a death glare. Well at least today I'd managed not to get overtaken by him. Even if I had to start well before he did in order to win.

Now there was a moral for you; cheat to win. No way would I do that.

“Min, why didn't you wait? Was that guy bothering you?”

I gave him my best 'duh' look.

“Because I didn't want to talk to the guy you just scared off. And he wasn't bothering me per se, just kind of annoying. That's the MCO guy, Leonard Sands, close up.”

“Oh, so that's the guy huh? He doesn't look so tough.”

I punched him in the arm. He barely noticed, the jerk.

“He doesn't need to be; he can get power armor air-dropped here inside of 13 minutes with a phone call. That's the real threat.”

I could forgive the skepticism he showered me with.

“Really? And just how do you know that?”

I waited just before going through the doors of the school for the appropriate dramatic flair.

“The internet of course.”

“What? They just post things like that on the internet?”

I shook my head.

“The MCO doesn't, sure. But other people do. Some enterprising citizens managed to time the rapid response times of the MCO in the area, from the old decommissioned air force base they bought at Chinook. So here should be half the time of their response to Cedar creek, a town noted in the data and twenty minutes away by car.”

Ricky immediately focused on the most important question... of sorts.

“Chinook has mutants?”

On any other day I'd try to hide my irritation. Not today.

“No, they have had 1 manifestation, and one incident. Both incidents apparently warranted some sort of response, and the MCO was commissioned to deal with both threats. The manifesting mutant was a fire type, apparently that's a pretty common power, and the other was a villain named 'Strobe'. Both incidents were handled successfully and are a matter of public record.”

“What happened to the mutant who manifested? Did the MCO kill the... guy? Girl? None of the above?”

“A him, and no there is video footage. The MCO's hands are clean on this one at least; the poor guy melted under the influence of his own power. It seems he had the power to generate heat and flame... but no resistance to it.”

Finally we made it to the classroom; Ricky had been doing a pretty good job distracting me from my problems, but I just wanted to relax, and he wouldn't take the hint.

“That's just sick. You saw this footage?”

I nodded as I sat down. Hopefully he would shut up once the teacher got here. That would be nice.

“Yes, it was on YouTube for over 24 hours before it was taken down. It's all over a thousand seeded pirate sites now. If you want I can show you later.”

The green tinge he was sporting was amusing.

“No, that's alright, thanks. I don't want to see someone melt in any way shape or form. Wow, guess you are actually kinda lucky, huh?”

I couldn't help but notice him cock back his arm to punch me in my own, then stop as if unsure whether he would break me or not. I couldn't really fault him, as much as I wanted to. I was pretty weak.

“Yes Ricky, I am luckier than some, though not as lucky as most. I do appreciate not spontaneously bursting into flames though.”

Just in the nick of time, Mr. Welch came in.

“Alright class, settle down and let's get started. Pass your homework to the front please.”

There were some groans as a few students remembered that they forgot to do said homework. That was pretty standard. I would never be one of them again, at least. Nothing wrong with my memory. Ricky had remembered his too, and passed it up. A quick glance as it went by revealed it to be... wrong. Not just a little wrong; very, glaringly, wrong.

I mean, fish flipper musculature just wasn't wired that way! The tendons were all in the wrong places!

It actually took effort to refrain from commenting, and I basked in the slight stab of pride I felt when I managed it. When Ricky started to talk again I simply pointed front, and directed my attention there. I caught his frown from the corner of my eye, but decided to ignore that too.

I didn't think I'd told him I had already read the book. Maybe my memory wasn't perfect? Come to think of it, what did I have for breakfast yesterday? Some sort of bagel thingie? On the other hand, I could remember every detail of the jet engine I worked on yesterday, from the tolerances required in a liquid fuel line to the shielding chamber I designed to store any radioactive fuel, if I decided to go that route.

So maybe it was selective?

Maybe I was reading too much into this. But if my memory had suddenly grown selective from a technical standpoint, then would I lose more of me? Lose even the memories that made me, me? No, wait. Don't let your thoughts spin out of control; remember what Ian said earlier. Maybe this is what he meant by brooding?

“You OK?”

Ricky had a look of concern plastered on his face while staring straight ahead with glazed eyes at the blackboard, where Mr. Welch was diagramming the musculature of whales. He looked ridiculous, honestly.

“Ricky... do I brood?”

“Hah? What's that mean?”

Wait, he didn't know? Oh, right, he didn't read that much. Come to think of it, neither did I, so where did I know it from? No, focus! Focus!

“It means to think or worry persistently over a problem or situation.”

“Hmm, then yes you do lately. You never used to worry about stuff, and now you do.”

In my surprise I almost spoke normally as opposed to a whisper.

“I do?”

He gave a faint nod, still looking at the blackboard, still looking faintly ridiculous. But well, if Ricky noticed it, then it had to be true. Ricky was hardly the best at noticing things, even those things right in front of his face.

I had also forgotten my laptop. This was mildly bad. I'd have to actually use notepads.

The lab section was easy, of course. The egg cradle took on some semblance of life as Ralph followed my plans, and I made adjustments, Our egg would most certainly survive. Aside from the occasional broken sentence, we didn't even talk.

“Here.”

“No, like this.”

“But what if...”

“This.”

He sat back in a mild form of awe.

“Ahh, so that's how...”

The other teams were somewhat less far along. Most were still in the planning stages. One team, I kid you not... had a box. A box! No way that was going to work. Even with the illegal tissues they were smuggling in to fill it with.

Toilet paper would have been better for that anyway.

The ringing bell shouldn't have taken me by surprise, but it did. I started stuffing things in my bag.

“Ralph, can you stow the cradle?”

There was a spot under the desk where all our projects were kept.

“Sure. See you in the next class.”

“See you there.”

Normally I'd do it myself, but I trusted Ralph, and I had to go to the freaking bathroom. Stupid walnut sized bladder. Stupid coffee. Stupid world. The bathroom was empty, which made it easy for me. I wasn't the only one to have a problem though, someone else passed me on my way out, without even a second glance.

I knew they had to know who I was, my hair alone announced that clearly. But whoever it was didn't care. Or maybe their bladder was too small for them to care just yet, and they would yell bloody murder at me later. I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop among the girls, but they were acting like something straight out of the Twilight Zone... Or Stepford.

I couldn't say the acceptance wasn't welcome, but it felt weird; a little off for it to happen that easily. As if the girls attending school, who didn't even really know me, were more accepting of me than my own family.

It couldn't possibly be true of course, but the illusion was strong today. I wondered whether the lie was that the girls were accepting, or that my family was.

“Good morning.”

Sam. I pasted on a smile which felt in danger of slipping, (Why now, when I had been dealing so well all morning?) and turned to her.

“Good morning Sam.”

She of course, saw right through me and went from semi-vacant to full blown alarm in not time at all.

“What's wrong?”

My throat locked up.

“It's... look, I'll tell you later, alright? We need to get into class before Mr. Mullins calls us absent.”

She nodded.

“Later.”

Ralph was already in his seat as I took mine, and I settled in as a few more almost late students trickled in. He raised an eyebrow at me but said nothing, for which I was grateful. I could feel Sam's eyes on me from the back of the classroom.

Algebra was as easy as it was yesterday. The numbers did their new but customary dance inside my head and I scribbled down the answers to the equations Mr. Mullins eeked on the blackboard, in a few cases before he was done writing the entire problem.

It was all so boring!

In despair I started scribbling my own math in the margins... dealing with black holes and magnetic containment of such. Done right, a small (micro sized) black hole could be dropped into such containment and be fed a molecule at a time, with a return on the matter investment of right around 90%. That would be enough to make a unit the size of a large car battery able to power a city block.

Possibly anyway, at least that was what the maths were telling me. I'd have to dig deeper to be certain, burn rates and energy conversions and material construction and....

“Min, you OK?”

I looked up, blinking and a little tired all of a sudden. Ralph was above me, with Sam next to him and both were staring directly at me... along with a few other people.

“Huh?”

Ralph pointed down to my notebook, which was now filled with a few diagrams and reams of equations. Some only half finished and trailing off disturbingly.

“You were off in wonderland again. What was it this time?”

“Oh.”

Crap.

Their looks demanded an answer. I stood up and wobbled a little. Ralph grabbed me quickly in a gentle but firm grip to make sure I didn't fall and Sam just grabbed my stuff and looked at me expectantly.

“I'm fine, just got a little dizzy, is all. And it's the same thing ti was yesterday; power systems.”

Sam spared a glance at the notebook.

“Nuclear?”

“A good guess, but no. This one involves magnets.”

I didn't want to tell it it also involved a working black hole. She would likely freak out. Everyone likely would.

“Like Jeeves?”

Wow, Sam actually paid attention when I said things.

“Not quite. This one is more containment of a persistent electro-magnetic field than the more simplistic use of electro-magnets in motion to power something.”

Sam and Ralph both nodded understanding as we moved. I got more steady with each passing step and finally gave a gentle shake to dislodge Ralph, with a smile to thank him for his help. He left us at the door to geography to go to his own class. Come to think of it, I didn't know what class he had this period. I'd have to ask later.

Sam took over for him though, hovering right at my elbow until I was safely ensconced in my seat. It would be nice if it wasn't so cloying. I could darn well walk on my own! I just needed a minute was all.

“Morning Sam, morning Min! Say have you heard the news?!?”

Ahh Maggie, the smiling bundle of energy. She draped herself around us both, dragging Sam into a crouch as she whispered conspiratorially.

“The school just announced the Halloween party! We all need to go, and go in style! We should plan costumes later, in study hall, OK?”

I nodded and Maggie moved, dragged a wide eyed Sam away, to her seat, whispering the entire time. They were plotting, of course, but not everything had to involve me. I was hoping this was one of those times.

Geography made me bored, but I didn't want to zone out again. So I amused myself by calculating the height of various mountains pictured in the text by extrapolating size based on picture scale then working up from there. I could get the answers to the foot; the textbook itself provided the answers. Mrs. Carson didn't seem to mind as long as I was keeping myself occupied.

I'd managed to work my way through most of the text by the time the bell rang; on to the next class, and so far I'd survived. Of course, my third class being over meant that the worst was yet to come. I snuck as best I could until waylaid by Maggie, who somehow managed to be completely silent while sneaking up on me.

“No, none of that, come on! You can at least bond with us before gym, even if you cant play.”

And with an arm around my neck, much the same way as she dragged Sam around, she dragged me into the girl's locker room. During rush hour, so to speak. I stood in the corner, trying to blend into the background as best I was able with bright hair as everyone chatted and got dressed. As usual, Maggie was the loudest, though all the girls were chatting about the party and who they hoped asked them out to it.

I wasn't quite sure how to feel about that. Pam, likewise, was silent. And staring at me with a look of unfocused anger. What had I done to piss her off now? Every time I made a break for the door, Maggie or Sam stopped me, while still dressing and chatting. So shouldn't her anger be directed at one or both of them? They were keeping me here, after all.

The general atmosphere in the place was friendly and welcoming overall. I might have to ask my new friends if they knew anything about why some people who had never had a problem with me before did now. The answer was likely the mutant one, but someone had to know for sure, and I wanted to.

After all, I couldn't fix a problem I didn't know about. And while I was tempted to just try and ignore it and hope the problem went away, recent events suggested that would be a bad idea. Thankfully Maggie and Sam let me escape just as soon as they themselves were dressed, and I went to join my sole gym partner, already in the bleachers and breaking out his colored paper.

Which reminded me, I had forgotten to buy some of that. Ordinary paper would just have to do, even though it was thicker and therefore harder to fold well. Not to mention ugly by comparison. I took a seat well up in the bleachers, in effect dragging Ralph up with me.

Bernie would find it very hard to hit us with a basketball up here. He could peg either of us, but we would have more time to react. .07 seconds, to be more precise, and how I know that I don't really know. Instead I opened the book on origami and looked for something simple.

I'd already done the jumping frog, so maybe the ladybug?

“You know, I've seen you draw schematics... I think you can manage something for me.”

Alarm bells went off in my head, but I was curious.

“And what's that?”

“Well, I need a tree. Or at least, a picture of a tree. I don't draw that well, but you do. So I want you to draw me one.”

He was clearly insane.

“Ralph, buddy, I don't draw. I sketch schematics. I've never drawn anything more complex than stick figures in my life.”

“Now that's not true. It might have been before, but I saw your notebook this morning. Your power supply looks like what it's supposed to. Just... schematic me a tree. Look in my text if you have to, but I want a tree. You owe me, and I'm calling in the debt.”

He shoved a piece of unlined paper and a pencil in my hands, and set his textbook across my lap, already open to a page with a tree on it. An oak, I think. I did owe him... a little. But I wasn't sure I owed him enough for what would undoubtedly be blackmail material later.

Well at least he hadn't done anything really awkward. His own fault if he wanted a crappy drawing. He sat down in front of me, back turned and watching the boys while he folded cranes. I didn't blame him, I would too. I certainly didn't want a repeat beaning. I couldn't see though because he was in front of me; I was too darn short.

So what else could I do? I sat back and drew.

* * * * * * *

By the time gym class was over, I had a somewhat credible tree. Well, at least, you could tell it was a tree. I still didn't have the details of the bark looking quite right, but the leaves looked OK. The lighting also looked a little sketchy. There was more I felt could be done to it, but it was my third try, and the bell had been a good minute ago and lunch was waiting.

Ralph accepted it without a word, and I really didn't want to stick around to see the disappointment set in. That and if I waited too long, I had no doubt Jeeves would come looking for me, school rules or not.

“Sorry, got to go!”

One of the few pluses about being small is it didn't take much effort to fly, and if I wanted now, I could simply move through groups of people or bounce off of them, as opposed to running them over. I don't even think the people I slipped between even notice I was there.

I met Jeeves coming in the door as I was heading out of it. Beyond him at the tree, I could see a table set up with a white tablecloth and three fold out seats. Maggie and Sam were already in two with their own lunches, and my place had been set, complete with what I was assuming was grape juice. There was a small gauntlet of student to run in getting to the tree, the curious; but they parted for us.

“Mistress Min, you are one minute and 42 seconds late. You have an elevated heart rate and are short of breath. Has anything occurred?”

“Nothing at all, just got caught up doing something in gym class. Sorry about being late, but we still have plenty of time.”

He once more resumed his position behind me, my comforting shadow. For my part I was famished, but walked now that I could to my place setting.

My lunch today was some sort of chicken salad, but it didn't look like a normal salad... were those radishes in there? Garlic? Mint? The bowl next to it was rice with those small orange slices in it

“Couscous salad with vinaigrette, Mistress Min, with rice marinated in Cara Cara oranges on the side. The drink is blackberry juice, a favorite berry of yours.”

He handed me a fork. How did he even get blackberries to juice? It was good, and couldn't be concentrate. The rice had a light sweet taste imparted by the oranges, and the salad was an interesting melange of tastes that I didn't quite know how to classify.

It was all very good though. My table mates took notice, and though Sam only rolled her eyes and continued eating her sandwich (a six inch sub from a sandwich shop) Maggie had something to say.

“Dang! The way you're going at that salad, it must be something special!”

“It's... weird. Do you want a bite?”

She backpedaled so quickly she almost fell off her chair.

“No, thanks. It's your lunch and I have my own. I wouldn't want to take any.”

She didn't notice the rather pointed look Sam hit her with – or pretended not to notice, instead staring at her own pbj sandwich and giving a forlorn sigh of the damned. I didn't really see any spare parts to the lunch I could give away; there was only one serving there. Well that and the candle of course, somehow blazing merrily away in defiance of the breeze. A devisor candle? What would the point of that be? I would have to ask Jeeves.

With a shrug Maggie pulled a thing of yogurt and a plastic spoon out of her crumpled paper bag. Seemed like a nutritious lunch to me; maybe I should pack a peanut butter sandwich tomorrow? I kind of missed them. Still, I couldn't resist a little needling; I was feeling a little brave today.

“I don't think Sam believes you about the food.”

Sam nodded along to my statement.

“Food thief.”

Maggie got all indignant.

“I am not! I only borrow a thing here and there, when Sam has more than enough for both of us.”

Sam shook her head.

“Pack extra in case.”

So Sam was used to it. Maybe I should ask Jeeves to pack more too? Would it really take that much more time to make more than one serving? I didn't know. Another question to ask him. But before I could Maggie blindsided me with a question of her own that I'd almost forgotten about and been dreading.

“So, what's going on? You were pretty upset this morning.”

And just like that the salad might as well be greasy gravel. Maggie crossed the distance and grabbed me in a hug; I vaguely wondered why Jeeves let her.

“What's wrong? What happened? I'm sorry if I did something....”

“No. no, no! It wasn't you! It was my parents!”

I quickly filled them in on the argument we all had last night, and my reaction to it. I spared nothing, and didn't try to make myself look better. I just told them what happened with as little bias as possible. It took longer than I thought, and the wind blew smoke or something in my eyes often. But I managed to finish with a steady voice.

Sam had joined Maggie on my opposite side, at some point moving when I wasn't aware of it.

“Darn, that's rough girl. What were your parents, thinking?!? Didn't they raise you better than that? How can they not trust their own work? I mean, it's you. How can they think that you would go from well, you, to someone like the poisoner? That's just screwed up!”

Sam added her two cents.

“Worried.”

“Well of course they are worried! No reason to go off on Min though, she can't help it!”

It felt rather gratifying to have them both in my corner, with no reservation at all. Even if I was as much in the wrong as my parents were.

“No, they are at least partly right. I was planning to make dangerous things. That jet engine and it's power supply are both potentially dangerous.”

Maggie dismissed that idea out of hand.

“Pfft, so's a car, and teens drive those all the time. Other kids get to build and fly in planes or ultra-lights, what's so different about you doing it?

I shrugged. I couldn't really answer that question.

“They aren't using fusion power systems to do it? I don't know.”

Maggie was on a roll, and didn't let my words so much as slow her down.

“Not even a concern, Min. You wouldn't build something that could hurt us on purpose. And if you did, Jeeves wouldn't let you or us use it. No need to even stress about it.”

I looked at Sam and she nodded complete agreement. A look at Jeeves and he nodded briskly, conceding Maggie's point. So he was my safety net in more ways than one? I wasn't sure that I wanted to trust him that far. But in the long run, did I have a choice? Could I keep myself from building the better doomsday device?

No, I had to try to rein myself in. If only to prove that I could do it; to my parents and myself. And of course I had to apologize to my parents. I still wasn't looking forward to that; right or wrong, they would likely try to inhibit my building things. Maybe if I just built things that couldn't possibly be used for anything crazy or hurt anyone, I could satisfy my strange urges to create without causing problems.

Of course, it would be even better if I could do that somewhere other than my dad's garage workshop. Something else to consider. Were there any other good spots to build things in this town? Perhaps Jeeves would know, he had to be doing something when I was in school. I bet he did know, and was waiting for me to ask. It would be just like him.

Sam of all people broke the silence, and my musings. She knocked a knee to mine gently.

“Hey. It'll get better.”

I gave her the best smile I could under the circumstances as Maggie joined in.

“Yeah! We will go with you tonight and help you with your parents. We will make them see reason! They can't treat you like a criminal!”

Wow, where had these two been hiding all this time? They were as solid as Ricky. Maybe even more so.

“Thanks, you two.”

Yes it was kind of dirty, bringing them home for the inevitable blow up; it certainly wasn't right to drag them into this. But I felt like I needed the support. I did not want to go home and then lose my nerve, and that could happen.

But then again, if I got my friends involved, what kind of a friend was I? Once again my reverie was broken.

“Think nothing of it, Min. We may not have all the answers, but you aren't alone in all this.”

I couldn't help but gape. That had to be the most I'd ever heard Sam say, and she used a complete sentence! Maggie was gaping right alongside me. With a mischievous grin Sam reached over and closed our mouths gently, then blanked her face and stated:

“Late.”

And sure enough, the bell to signal the end of lunch started ringing.

“Aah, crap! Jeeves can you pack up?”

With a bow and a look that all but screamed 'are you kidding me?' he responded.

“Of course, mistress Min.”

Without further thought spared that direction I grabbed my bag and ran; I wasn't all that good at these mushy moments. They made me uncomfortable. In not time at all however, Sam was beside me. I could hear Maggie puffing along behind us, so at least I had that going for me. Or maybe that was: Sam and I had that going for us?

Unlike on the way out, we had to slow down once we hit the doors. There were just too many people around to risk hitting one.

And on to study hall, where I could do all my homework. I swear my pencils seemed to smoke as I wrote answers. Nothing at all wrong with my hand speed or finger dexterity. Once again getting all my homework done was child's play, though I did feel a little odd afterwards. Almost like I had run a small marathon or played a full 40 minutes in a basketball game. Kind of really odd; I hope nothing else was going wrong.

And once again, speeding through it all left me with nothing to do once I got home, unless I tinkered. Which my family was dead set against. Maybe I'd get some really good long assignment in english class.

And maybe pigs would develop anti-gravity harnesses and fly.

Or maybe I should....

The bell rang and I looked up to find Maggie, Sam, Ricky, and Ralph all around me, crowding me and looking down at my notebook, where I had drawn a flying pig using an anti-gravity harness. I felt my face heat up and closed it in a hurry. How had Ralph gotten here so quickly? He had a math class this period I thought. Sam of course made it all worse by summing things up her way:

“Cute.”

“What? No way! You didn't see anything!”

Maggie opened her mouth but I beat her to the punch.

“You. Saw. Nothing.”

Ralph had a small knowing grin but his voice was steady and free from any laughter.

“Come on, last class then we can free ourselves from this madhouse.”

Ricky was busy shooting eye venom at Ralph to say anything, but he nodded over the sentiment. I got up and we all tromped over to our last class of the day like prisoners to an execution. I wasn't sure what everyone else's problem was, but for me it was going to be mind crushing boredom. Unlike the clean lines and performance of math, English was messy. Both messy and not something I could really rush, since it was also required some subjectivity on the part of the participants.

And today we were working on more Shakespeare. King Lear to be precise. What was the deal with King Lear, and why did we have to suffer through his story? No idea. Some king decides to hand out goodies before he dies based on who can butter him up the best. No way that idea ever has bad consequences.

A little bit of class time spent on the time period good old William wrote it in, and the legends king Lear was based on pretty much put us all to sleep in addition to eating class time. The bell rang but we could not escape the tedium; Mrs. Holmes assigned reading this trash to us... first chapter due tomorrow, complete with the book questionnaire on it. Ten questions that only Mrs. Holmes will ever care about.

Oh well I shouldn't complain; my grade in English has gone up almost a full letter. And of course the longer English lasted, the more time before I went home. I could deal with all the time in the world before going home, really. Now it was my turn to drag my feet; and I mean really drag my feet. Maggie would have none of that, however.

“Come on Min, we need to go or Jeeves will be chewing down the walls looking for you!”

Chewing down the walls looking for me? But that didn't even make any sense! Sam grabbed my arm as I turned to call her on it, and Sam was strong. Rather than just get dragged along I decided on the path of dignity and picked up my own pace.

Once again, Jeeves was on his way through the door as I reached it. He raised a sculpted eyebrow and just turned around once I got close enough, his tall form sort of breaking the human wave for us. I would normally appreciate it, but it meant going home that much sooner. Dread was tying my stomach in knots. My dad I could handle, but my mom was flat out scary when angered. And I had definitely angered her last night. I could almost hear the dirge keeping time with each step.

Once outside the bright sunlight cheered me somewhat, even though the distinct lack of heat meant that fall's days were numbered. Halfway down the block I spotted the late model ford sedan which all but screamed 'government!'

And behind that, was Leonard Sands the intrepid MCO agent. Who was currently scarfing down some sort of chili dog or similar bad for you food thing (it was hard to tell at this distance) and not making any particular effort to stay hidden at all.

Of course, neither was the CIA in their obvious unmarked sedan.

With a shrug I continued and started leading our strange procession; Jeeves had taken his customary place behind me now that the student wave had broken. The traffic wasn't even heavy at the moment, which made the sedan stick out even more than it otherwise would have. Not that slowly pacing us a good hundred feet behind was helping it.

I wondered as I turned into my drive, my entire posse behind me (even Ricky, which seemed a little odd), if the CIA knew what happened last night. And then there was no more time to think silly thoughts. Because my parents – both of them – were waiting at the open door.

I only managed to make it halfway up to them when mom hit me with the force of a small car, knocking us both back into Jeeves and then down, and hugging me so hard my ribs creaked.

“I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry...!”

“Mom, can't breathe....”

She loosened up with a guilty look. I vaguely wondered where Jeeves was, he was supposed to be protecting me! Dad blocked out the sun with a stern visage, stating:

“Well we decided magnamimous... magninimous... um, with a big heart to forgive you.”

Then he smiled to put the lie to it. Then he dragged mom and I both back up into standing position and into a hug of his own.

“I'm sorry, Min. You're right, we should trust you. You've done nothing wrong and we should trust you.”

I shook my head through the stupid tears.

“No, you guys are right. I'm sorry. I need to be more careful about what I build and how.”

This surprised them both, though only dad spoke up in his surprise.

“You are? You do?”

I nodded.

“I have an idea that will help me do things; but it'll seem like a bad idea at first. You guys are going to have to trust me, OK? I'll listen to you, but you need to trust me this one time, please?”

And they were hugging me again, with help, as Sam and Maggie and Ian got into the act. I was having trouble breathing again. Mom was still a little more wary.

“What's your plan?”

“Well, I'm going to need one of those pre fab garages in the backyard... and then we move everything out there. I make a few more androids like Jeeves, but more limited, to do much of the actual building and testing of the stuff I want to make; you know, take over the dangerous things, and then we can all be happy. I can build and test things to make life better for everyone, and none of us need to worry about the danger or getting hurt from it.”

I really hoped I wasn't lying to my parents, but the compulsion to work on the power system that shall not be named aloud was strong. I just KNEW it would help humanity... not to mention powering the other things I wanted to make. But fusion and fission had to happen first. Dad asked the question I was dreading.

“And how do we pay for this garage workshop of yours? Got any ideas?”

Well at least he wasn't discarding the idea outright. We did have a big yard, one that could easily support the large pre-fabricated garage I envisioned. But paying for it would be a problem.

“If I may suggest something....”

A cold pit opened in my stomach. Jeeves had an idea. This day was getting beyond normal bad, even with my parents being so understanding. Even worse I couldn't shake the feeling that my parents were up to something. This entire apology session had gone too easy; and that thought made me feel guilty, angry, and somehow vindicated all at once. And feeling vindicated when thinking the worst of your parents has a tendency to make you feel dirty. At least, it does for me.

“Mistress Min currently holds several patents at the United States Patent office. I submitted them online as she finished their blueprints and construction. The nozzle design for the 3 dimensional printer in particular is very valuable. With proper marketing those patents should be easy to sell for the necessary funds.”

Wait, what? I was staring up into his smug looking face as close as I could manage before my brain caught up and I realized that was probably a bad idea. But this was a betrayal worse than my parents not trusting me!

“You've been sneaking behind my back and filing my designs, then selling them?”

He shook his head.

“No mistress Min. Not I. Mr. Green.”

A glimmer of a hint of a thought. A light bulb went off in my head but it was low wattage. A robot designed for business, using Jeeves general chassis and with entire dusty tomes filled with patent lore and law downloaded into his pointy head, along with the standard degrees he would need. A design to help me manage the business aspects of my inventions, as that would be way too annoying for me to do myself.

A design I hadn't gotten around to building yet, as I hadn't yet seen the point for it. After all I only had two inventions I could put on the government's books, right? So if I didn't, who did?

Jeeves had been watching my emotions play out, because he replied to my unasked question instantly.

“A.R.N.E.E. sends his regards, mistress.”

“Wait, A.R.N.E.E. built Shecky? How did A.R.N.E.E. get the plans for Shecky?”

Mom interrupted, warily.

“Who is Shecky?”

“The business manager bot I was going to build when I felt I had some kind of business to run. I don't really have a head for legalese and dad can't balance the checkbook. You might be able to run it, so I was going to give you the benefit of the doubt, but A.R.N.E.E. got a hold of my plans for Shecky and made him somehow.”

Jeeves raised his hand with a gentle smile.

“Why would you do that? Do you know where A.R.N.E.E. is? Tell me the truth.”

“I was programmed to share the information with A.R.N.E.E.. I do not know where he is; his physical location was not required. That programming directive has been satisfied, I no longer feel compelled to share information with A.R.N.E.E..

“Well just in case, don't do it again. Share information like that with A.R.N.E.E. or anyone else without my permission. Did you share my designs with anyone else? Like the CIA maybe?”

He bowed deeply.

“Of course. And no, no one else. With your current encryption measures in place any attempted theft of your designs would be detected. I will of course assist you in any way you require in order to prevent such a theft, as always.”

I wasn't quite done with him.

“You mean it? You absolutely swear you haven't sold me out?”

“I have not. In truth, you programmed me to share Mr. Green's design with A.R.N.E.E.. You even programmed the knowledge on how to do it.”

That was wrong, wasn't it?

“I don't remember doing that. When did I do that?”

“When you were still... mutating. You told A.R.N.E.E. what you required, remember? And A.R.N.E.E. made the decision.”

So there could be more. Jeeves, if I didn't know any better, seemed tense.

“Any other surprises I should know about?”

He shook his head.

“No.”

“And you would tell me if there were?”

“Yes.”

Mom, who had been looking ready to burst this entire time, (everyone else seemed to be content to let the drama play out) started in. But on Jeeves, not me, so I was cool with it.

“Are you sure you don't know where A.R.N.E.E. is?”

Jeeves nodded, unperturbed by my moms questions. Even I could tell he just didn't care about what she thought. The way mom's mouth tightened, she could too.

“I do not. He insisted upon it. I can reaffirm that A.R.N.E.E. is taking no action that mistress Min herself would not approve. To date he has simply acted as another set of hands, building the equipment mistress Min designs and needs, but lacks the time to build herself. Like myself for example.”

“Is A.R.N.E.E. building anything else?”

“Not to my knowledge. I am not privy to all of A.R.N.E.E.'s directives; only those that pertain to my actions and behavior. For example, I know that Shecky Green has been active 6 days, 17 hours, 34 minutes and 16 seconds. I know that he is currently in negotiations with several different car manufacturing companies regarding mistress Min's first patent, the valve and nozzle mechanism for the 3 dimensional printer. I know that the talks involve hundreds of thousands of dollars plus royalties. I know that Shecky is coming here to meet mistress Min and discuss these contracts and deals. And I know all of this due to status update which Mr. Green himself sends me. We... talk.”

Mom's raised eyebrow did not bode well.

“Yes, I gave them net access! It was to help the model learn, not do weird net hijinks! I swear!”

Dad just shook his head, but neither of them said what I knew they were thinking: 'I told you so! This is what we were talking about.' A spike of anger and I turned to Jeeves.

“Are you doing anything illegal through your internet connection?”

“No.”

“You will keep it that way, is that understood?”

Again he bowed low.

“Of course, mistress Min. Do you wish me to pass that order along to Mr. Green?”

“Yes, along with the order to hurry up.”

“Um, excuse me.”

Maggie couldn't keep silent anymore. Somehow I'd expected her to interrupt before now; she was showing remarkable restraint.

“What's up, Maggie?”

“Just a small question. How much is Min looking to get for these deals, and when will they close?”

Jeeves answered her question seriously, staring at me the entire time.

“The lowest bid is 498,000 dollars plus 24,000 dollars a year, from Ford motor company. The contract does not possess an exclusivity clause, so it is possible that mistress Min may sell the rights to use the valve and nozzle system again to a competitor. With such a clause added the money earned becomes just 1.12 million and 38,000 dollars per year. However Mr. Green believes he can make up the lack by selling the same rights to Ford motor company's competitors. He is currently in negotiation with Honda and Toyota. Any such deal made will of course, need mistress Min's signature and that of a parent.”

Almost on cue, the entire gathering swiveled their heads to look at my Mom. I knew better, and was looking at Dad. If this was going to happen it would need dad's approval. Even coaching the workshop idea in the backyard, where they could keep an eye on me, was a huge stretch. Mom and Dad stared at each other as we all looked on with baited breath. And in a total shock, Dad shrugged and deferred to Mom.

“Your call, dear.”

She turned and looked me up and down. She stared into the hopeful faces of my friends. She ticked off a finger on her left hand.

“We both have unfettered access. Ian does not.”

I could only imagine Ian getting his hands on one of my power systems or something; that wasn't a happy thought at all.

“Agreed.”

She ticked off another finger.

“All security measures you can make get taken, provided they are non-lethal.”

“Security versions of Jeeves are first priority, and I'll start the printer on them tonight. I'll tighten up the programming too, so they can't do anything weird. I'll even give you and dad overrides.”

She ticked off another finger.

“No living in it. You come inside for dinner and to sleep. You don't spend all your time in there building jet engines and power systems.”

I nodded and she ticked off a last finger.

“You do all your homework. Any missed homework grounds you from the workshop for a week an infraction.”

Now that was downright unfair! Homework was so boring! Sigh. I nodded to that one as well. I waited but there were no more fingers ticked off (or even a thumb).

“Alright; we will front you the money for the garage. It'll be up to you to pay us back, with interest. I don't care how exactly. But you have a month. I'll make the call.”

She turned away, and I could swear for her next statement the light dimmed and I could smell fresh blood.

“Oh, and should you ever use the device you used last night on your door again, you better be sure there are rampaging death robots on the other side. Understand?”

Ulp.

“With crystal clarity, Mom.”

Sure she was bigger than me, but then again everyone was now. She wasn't THAT big... so how did she manage to pull off being so scary? Even Dad made himself scarce when he got that look. Mom managed to get all the way back inside before so much as a bird tweet. We certainly weren't going to say anything and draw any potential ire. Sam was wide eyed, but Maggie was triumphant – and irrepressable.

“We did it!”

Huh?

“We did what?”

Dad started back into the house himself.

“And on that note, time to go reclaim my garage. Don't rush anything, Min. You don't need death robots or anything similar right now, hear me?”

I was caught up trying to understand what was behind Maggie's shouts and fist pumping to worry about dad's admonishment. Why exactly was she celebrating?

“Um, yeah sure dad. No crazy things yet. Maggie, what are you doing? What did we do?”

She stopped long enough to give me a good fish eye. Sam joined in too, and I could sense some surprise there.

“Why, we won of course!”

“We won?”

“Of course, not only did your parents actually apologize and admit they were wrong thanks to your excellent reverse psychology, you got a workshop and club house out of it! Think of all the great stuff we will be able to do now, with workspace all your own! And to top it off, you're going to be rich! This day is clearly one of the best wins over the evils of adulthood ever!”

I looked to Sam. She just shook her head while rolling her eyes; she didn't know what Maggie was talking about either. Though Maggie was right, a little. It was hard to imagine me being rich and having a lab to my own already. I mean I always knew I would eventually, but this seemed very soon. Ricky and Ralph both stepped up with matching smiles and jinxed themselves by saying congratulations at the same time – then they glared at each other.

For my part, I had to choke down a most embarrassing giggle that threatened to escape. Not sure what got into those two; they had always at least politely ignored each other before. Sometimes they were even friendly, though Ricky sometimes acted as if mutation were a disease that could be catching. Now they both seemed to regard each other as the second coming of Gordon, for some reason. Sam was rolling her eyes again, and opened her mouth to utter some profundity.

“Adulthood is evil?”

And there it was. I shrugged.

“I don't think so, but I guess this once we did get a win. I still can't believe it actually; I expected to get grounded and beaten blue with a belt. I understood their point, but I didn't think they got mine at all, before ten minutes ago.”

Ricky and I shared a look. When I was younger we had both gotten the belt a lot. Especially that time we had chopped down the cherry tree to see what the big deal was. Dad was kind of old school on that. And I could regenerate now, so it wouldn't even have any long lasting effects. I would have gotten a good ten swipes like that a year ago for talking to my parents like I had last night. Maggie started pulling me into the backyard as Ian walked up warily.

“Come on Min, let's decide where it should go! We can mark it out for the company your mom calls to put up! Which way do you think the doorway should face?”

Well that was simple.

“Towards the back door, of course.”

“What's going on?”

Ricky took it upon himself to answer Ian before I could.

“A tearful apology session, squirt. That somehow ended up in your sister moving out of the garage and getting her own workspace.”

Hey, that was a lie!

“It was not tearful! Nobody cried!”

Maggie held up her hand, and Sam followed suit.

“What? You both cried?!?”

“I admit, tears may have been shed. Also, your mom cried a bit too.”

Ian kept his focus.

“So wait, the 'rents signed off on a workshop now?”

I nodded with a grin; I couldn't help it.

“Yep, a place of my own to keep the messes and craziness out of the house. I did have to agree to keep it safe though. Oh, and you aren't to have unfettered access,' I had to whisper the next part; I wasn't going to take chances. 'Don't worry though, I plan on letting you in any time you want.”

Ian stared at me. For a long time. I was beginning to worry when he just walked around us and went in the house. What was his problem, anyway? Did I piss him off somehow? Ralph shot me a look I couldn't decipher.

“Don't worry, I got it. Think I know what his problem is.”

And he started after Ian. I rolled my shoulders yet again (it seemed to be a day for that) and let him go.

“Go right on in, you're formally invited. And glad at least one of us does. Alright Maggie, I'm coming! That arm is attached to me you know... I kind of need it.”

Sam and Jeeves brought up the rear; I expected this sort of thing from Sam, but Jeeves should be working a little harder to save my arm from dislocation. But we made it to the backyard without my joint popping and Maggie let go of my hand.

The backyard was flanked by two hundred year old oak trees which offered shade. It was large but the same size as the ones next to it, with dark green healthy grass without a bare patch. My dad took pride in that. The small patio outside the back door had the grill on it, now closed due to cold weather. The far side however, was open and sunny, and was by far my favorite spot.

“Alright so if you were going to put a prefab garage up in the back yard, where would you place it?”

Simple.

“All the way in the back, close to the property line as I could.”

“Really? Why?”

I started ticking off points.

“Well if we place it in that corner of the yard there, it'll be easier to mow since I wont have to mow around the back, so that will be nice. At most I might have to trim it, and that's nothing. It's farther away from the house so the chance of the house getting caught in some random explosion or screw up is less - not that I intend such a thing to happen, of course! And the last and best reason... that house belongs to the Zincks, and I hate them. There is no love lost between us at all.”

Maggie pondered that.

“Bad neighbors?”

“They like throwing their trash in our yard, walking their dog in our yard, and complaining over leaves from the trees. So yes, kind of.”

Sam had another question.

“You mow?”

“Well, yes, of course I mow. I do a lot of the yard work Dad doesn't want to do.”

But come to think of it, was that right anymore? I haven't mowed in two weeks, and for Dad that was a long wait. The grass looked freshly cut, probably during the weekend. There were few leaves mixed in the grass. Did someone else cut it when I wasn't paying attention?

“I didn't last time; guess I was still sick....”

“Just a little odd; my dad doesn't let me mow the yard anymore.”

Sam grinned.

“Not since that time....”

“Sam shush! That's a secret! You swore you'd take it to your grave!”

Sam made a show of zipping her lips. Maggie spoke in even more of a hurry than usual.

“So um, how big do you think this thing will be?”

I considered.

“Probably not any bigger than 30 by 30. That would be 900 square feet, which should be plenty of space for anything I want to do.”

“Alright.”

Maggie paced out 30 feet while Sam paced out 30 feet along the axis Maggie had unknowingly set. I could have helped, but whatever. A couple shed sticks from the oaks, and the square was marked.

“Alright, all done! Now it's time to design it and the bots that you'll have running the place. To the garage!”

Sam and I shared a look, then followed. Jeeves looked bemused. Bemused! That's like amused and smug at the same time, the jerk! The next bots were not going to have the intelligence for snark. I would see to that. In fact, they would only test things at my say so. The security bots would have to have a little more reasoning power, but should they have as much as Jeeves....

“Min? Min!”

Huh?

“Huh?”

“We're here. You were spacing out a little.”

I realized I was in the garage, and in the chair I was using when I designed things on my laptop in here. My laptop was in my room however; I know it was. An attempt to stand up and Jeeves was there, teleported to my side and catching me – again.

“No, mistress Min. You shouldn't try to move just yet. Your laptop, correct? I will fetch it for you. Please just wait here.”

And he left. Sam took his place by my side, showing the same concern.

“I'm fine, just got dizzy when trying to stand up.”

Maggie spoke for both of them.

“Are you OK? You just sort of walked in here on autopilot and sat down. Sam asked a question and you answered it, but you were kind of....”

“Thinking of something else? Distracted?”

Sam nodded while Maggie felt obliged to give a verbal response.

“Yeah.”

Sam tugged at my sleeve to get my attention, staring so intently into my eyes I felt my face heat up.

“What?”

“Huh?”

Maggie translated.

“She meant what were you thinking about?”

“Oh. Oh, just robot brains. Jeeves is buggy, I want to avoid the repeating the problems I have with him when making the other robots, so I will most likely make them less intelligent and their protocols more strict to the function I want them for.”

Sam was easy to read this time, I could hear the disbelief dripping from her voice.

“....Buggy?”

“Yes, he's buggy. He doesn't always do what I tell him to, and does stuff I'm not aware of. Well, you heard him earlier. For all I know he could be plotting something. Which means I might have to look for his kill switch.”

“....Asked.”

Maggie slapped her forehead.

“She's right, you asked! He can't lie to you, right? You're certain of that?”

“No he can't, and you're right, I know. It's just frustrating. I bet I'm the only devisor ever to make a robot that won't do as he's told and runs off on his own.”

Sam and Maggie both stared at me, slack jawed.

“Get real, girl. Devisors do that all the time. It's become something of a joke. They even have old robot recycling centers in some cities, where you take the defective buggy or broken things and the cops melt them down. But you really shouldn't do anything to Jeeves – he's perfect the way he is.”

Really? Perfect seemed like such a strong word to use. I was saved from having to answer by the return of the android in question, who had not only brought my laptop, but snagged me a cup of coffee as well. He set both up for me with care while Maggie and Sam shot me more looks as if to say: 'see?'

“Thank you, Jeeves.”

The laptop powered up in a flash, and I got to work on modifying code. I did spare a look for my company... all three of them still present.

“Sorry you guys, but things are probably going to be pretty boring from now on tonight. No jets or anything fun happening. If you all want to leave I'll understand, and thank you for coming with me today.”

Ricky seemed to sum it up for them first, beating Maggie to the punch.

“If it's all the same to you, I'll stay.”

I shrugged and turned back to the computer.

“I don't mind if any of you stay, but I can't promise I'll respond if you ask me things, or won't zone out like I seem to do lately.”

Maggie elbowed Ricky, earning a dirty look in the process.

“It's fine! We'll just watch and talk over here, out of the way. No need to pay any attention to us at all. And what kind of friends would we be if we just left while you weren't feeling well?”

The look on Sam's face confirmed it for me. Maggie was plotting something. I was all but certain of it. But it was her time to waste. Same as it was for all of them.

“Alright. Jeeves, if they ask for refreshments, get them please. Otherwise keep the coffee flowing and check the mix in the printer tank. If it isn't viable for android parts, we'll need to readjust it. I trust you remember the proper percentages?”

“Of course, depending on which parts you wish to print first.”

“Well I was thinking the servos and muscle bundles.”

I used bundles of woven carbon fiber and Teflon set to contract or lengthen, much like animal muscle did. Of course to reproduce the effect easily I was using servos and actuators set at either end to reel the fiber strings up or shoot them out, but I really didn't want to redesign the system right now, and that would require a stretchy form of filament, perhaps with differing currents to run through it to achieve the same effect....

“Ahh. I shall set it. If I remember correctly we will need .0423% more Teflon to properly produce those.”

The Teflon was used in the mix to inhibit friction heat and wear. And so it went, complete with open mouthed peanut gallery in the background.

To Be Continued

Read 7733 times Last modified on Monday, 20 September 2021 02:22

Published in Whateley Independent Fiction

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