A Whateley Academy story

A Brief Personal History of my Summer Mutation

by

Nagrij

 

Part 9

 

My hands itched to do something... anything at all to avoid what they were actually doing.

Sam had one caught in hers, her tongue ever so slightly out as she applied nail polish to my nails.

I normally didn't bother, since the stuff just chipped off no matter how well it was applied, but it was apparently something that both bothered Sam and that girls did during sleepovers.

Playing with makeup (even though I'd been told it was experimenting) and talking about the most outlandish rumors in the school while we did so? Check, that was an actual thing - even if it might be due to having a sleepover with school gossip.

Honestly I didn't care if Amy Schuster had two boyfriends, but it didn't seem right to interrupt. They seemed fine with it, according to all reports, and that was good enough for me; who was I to say how other people should act or live? I could barely handle myself.

Sam looked at her work with a critical eye, a slight frown creasing her forehead. Her hands hadn't been the steadiest, but from what I could tell her work looked alright: blue polish with some lighter blue and yellow streaks of lightning, giving the impression of a stormy sky.

It certainly looked cool, and was a far cry from the more bland jobs on my nails I had done. Even Jeanette, who normally did my nails once she nagged me enough to sit still for it, was paying attention from her chosen place in the corner.

I mean really, my android maid was actually hunched over in clearly incorrect posture, something she was normally dead set against. If she could have stuck her nose in between us, it seems like she would have.

Maggie was still chatting merrily, waiting for her turn. I would be handling that, so I'd been told. All part of the process, I'd also been told. Sam would wait last, and I was pretty sure she wanted me to do her nails as well, which was silly, since I was bad at it.

Supposedly I was supposed to think of my friends and make designs based on what I thought of them, but that way lay madness. Perhaps madness would even be the right way to go? Could I paint small tentacle horrors?

If so, Sam would likely like them. Maybe a little too much.

We were at Maggie's house, and her room was all very much her, from the muted pink walls to the newspapers sporting sensational lead lines of the past. But I bet Sam's room would have a many disturbing surprises for me. She did seem like the type to have horror posters on her walls and hockey masks in her closet.

Maybe that was unfair of me, but Mom had always warned me about the quiet ones. 'stay away from the quiet ones', she had cautioned time and again. Sam was as quiet as they came.

Maybe I was safe though; I doubted Sam wanted to paint my nails before locking me in a basement hole and holding a poodle while telling me what to do.

While I'd been debating the point, Sam had brandished a small bottle of clear sealant from somewhere and snagged my other now dry hand.
I was familiar with the sealant by now of course, made to try and keep such nail jobs as long as possible. The stuff just didn't hold up to things like lubricants, oils, and sticking both your hands into jet engines. Even with gloves, the stuff just didn't hold up.

The pungent smell that erupted from the tiny container once she unscrewed the top smelled different than what I was used to; stronger.
"This will work." Sam assured me, and began painting again, this time with the clear stuff.

I wasn't going to tell her better; we'd see in a few days. My guess it would last until the first time I stuck both hands in the guts of my jet.
Maggie stopped for a moment, and we shared a look. It was clear she was thinking the same thing. Then she gave a tiny shrug. Which was the point really, this wasn't for me - it was for Sam, and in the name of bonding. While I was a part of the other crowd, bonding meant crude jokes, fist and chest bumps, and a lot of yelling "right!", "Let's go!" and "That's it!"

This was another world. At least it seems to work for them. I would reserve judgment on the process.

Sam gave me back one hand, and grabbed the other. At least she was gentle; Jeanette hadn't even reacted.

No, Jeanette was looking from my nails to hers.

Well, it was about bonding, and Jeanette was here on sufferance because I might need her; I'd woke up sick before. It wasn't really sufferance though, because Maggie and Sam both like Jeanette, and Maggie's parents seemed to warm up to her immediately.
Of course that might have just been because my maid was a chaperon that could be depended on to curb our worst impulses, and we wouldn't object to.

I knew I wasn't going to do anything crazy with her here, no matter how that old laptop in the corner that didn't even work anymore beckoned. I'd just leave it all alone, yes indeed.

Maggie's grin widened, as if she knew what I was thinking. Why did people even keep old broken technology lying around? It was silly - just recycle that stuff; it wasn't doing anyone any good just sitting there.

Though Maggie's room certainly wasn't the worst for it. When we had arrived she'd gone upstairs first to 'tidy up'. Judging from what I'd seen after she gave the all clear, the place must have resembled a garbage dump. Sam didn't seem too worried by it, which further cemented the idea.

It was weird to think that girls couldn't be bothered to clean, but there you were. I couldn't throw stones from my glass house anyway, since I didn't know... it wasn't like I had a sister, and the only female role model I did have was my Mom, who fought a mighty war on grime and laziness.

I won of course, but only because I had Jeanette. She and Jeeves were my secret weapons. It also made me feel bad; Maggie and Sam both deserved some more free time, away from cleaning.

But I didn't dare. Even now, I had secret agents parked outside my friends' house, waiting for me to slip up. Giving my friends an android who could serve their every need would certainly count. Even a version lacking many of the better options my bots had would be an issue.
However, what if I made something that wasn't an android? Just a simple bot? A box or an oval, something ergonomic....

"You okay Min?"

"Oh, sure, I'm fine." That had been close. Jeanette had already been reaching a hand out, but Maggie had caught it. They both let the little white lie slide.

I needed to watch that.

I always needed to watch that. I was getting tired of watching that, truth told. I couldn't really tell that truth though, and I couldn't really stop. So

I'd just power through, same as always.
"Don't worry about it. My other laptop works great, we can log onto stuff later," Maggie assured me.

"Social media," Sam added helpfully.

I didn't really do the whole social media thing; I found it distracting. But I guess one night couldn't hurt?

"Sure, but first...." Maggie turned her predatory gaze to Jeanette, who seemed outwardly unruffled. "Time for your nails. Surrender them."

"I do not believe any such paint as you possess will last long in light of my activities."

"That's not an excuse," Maggie countered easily. "This is about bonding, after all, and you're included."

"I am included?"

Maggie looked confused for just a moment, as if the question made no sense at all. "Of course you are. Did you really think we wouldn't include you? You're our friend too."

Jeanette was actually knocked speechless for a moment. She looked almost as if she wanted to object.

I grabbed a hand she'd left near me, and Sam grabbed the other. A little revenge never hurt anyone, and she wouldn't shrug me off. I felt fine now, but Jeanette just wouldn't risk it.

Sam started looking through her paints for something suitable. Maggie tapped my hands. "We got this. Just wave your hands around a bit, make it dry faster."

I did as instructed.

Sam had decided on... black? Why black? Black was boring.

I resolved to trust her, since my friend seemed to be good at this. An odd talent to be sure, skills came in all shapes and sizes. Sam could probably make money from it, if my own nails were any indication.

So the black was done quickly... and Sam grabbed silver next... what the? That was the robot from lost in space, the old fifties show. Just the head, but it was still a clearly recognizable head. The next one was even better; Bender T Rodriguez, from futurama.
Sam kept going, and each nail was a different robot from a science fiction show. Some of the faces, I wasn't sure I knew. She even painted a cylon face complete with red eye. But what was that thing next to it? Some kind of box that looked more like a small garbage can turned upside down than anything else.

Whatever, I'd look it up later. It seemed kind of silly that I, someone who actually built androids regularly, didn't know one of the intellectual ancestors of my bots.

Was that one a dog? Wait, I knew that one. Dr. Who. Sam was killing it.

What could I do for her nails that was as good as what she was doing?

No, there was something. A sort of promise, from one science fiction nerd to another. Something I couldn't even say yet, dare not say yet... but Sam would understand.

My friend finished her own work, none the wiser; Jeanette now sported some great new nail art. I snagged her box of polishes and began my hunt.

I needed three, and by the time I found them, Sam was waiting calmly, her hands splayed out. As if I wasn't new to this.
Still, my hands were steady as I started; I could seat components into circuit boards by hand, so this much was child's play. Dark blue for the background, much like my own nails... and just hints of white and off-white, with some light red and pink.

A small star field, just for Sam. I could see the moment Sam figured it out, that hint of wonder as she searched my eyes, before shutting it down.

The stars looked alright. Nothing like Sam's work, but it was hard to screw up a star.

"Oh, that's neat." Maggie complimented. "Good job. We should preserve that as a wonderful first attempt!"

The phone came out, and pictures were taken. Sam was smiling in them, showing off.

Then another phone went off; my phone. Jeanette examined the picture she took and nodded to herself, clearly satisfied before putting my phone away in her apron.

I knew she had the thing of course, but I didn't know my maid knew how to use the camera on it. She had camera eyes, when she wanted; there was no reason to use a phone.

I wondered briefly what else she knew how to use on my phone, before deciding it didn't matter.

"Alright, now me. What about me?" Maggie asked, all but vibrating in her seat.

I had no idea what to do for Maggie's nails.

No, there was a tired, generic idea that didn't really fit here that I could do. "I got nothing, to be honest. If you're okay with it, I'll just do different flowers?"

Maggie thought about it a minute. "Can you do different flowers?"

A skeptic. I didn't blame her. "I can try and we can find out. Worse comes to worse, we can wash it off and pretend it never happened."

"True. Alright, go for it. I like flowers."

"I'm going to cheat a bit, with your permission. Can we use your laptop?"

Maggie shrugged. "Sure, why not?"

"Jeanette, can you bring up pictures of flowers? I feel like I'll be able to do better with something to look at."

"Cheater," Sam pouted.

I mean, I admitted it. "I know. Stars are different though. Even the best pictures of stars look like what you're sporting now."

Sam's silence conceded my point. She looked a bit happier at least, and began handing me the polishes she thought I'd need as Jeanette fired up Maggie's new but somehow super slow laptop.

I'd been convinced to leave mine at home of course, because it was wrong to work during a sleepover apparently, but I had to suppress a deep pang of regret, watching that primitive thing boot up. Physical pain, or near enough, waiting the fifteen seconds for the thing to finally show a welcome screen.

Maggie opened her mouth, but Jeanette bypassed it before a sound could be uttered by simply typing in whatever password my friend had. First try, of course.

"How did... no, never mind. I don't want to know."

"It is elementary, once one knows of you and human nature. Do not worry, no one shall learn it from me." Jeanette was coming along nicely; she knew that Maggie did want to know, but not pressure her. At least, I think that was what was going on. It was entirely possible that I was misunderstanding things here - I haven't been that good at reading people lately, if I ever was.

Whatever. It is what it is, and I was who I was. Red, green, brown, black... all the basic colors would be used to make good flowers. The background would be... yellow, to represent the sun. That would leave out some flowers, but that was fine, one couldn't have everything. Daisies were a small price to pay for greatness.

It was easier this time; my stupid fingers seemed to read my mind better, and the flowers turned into something one could recognize. Well, all but the violet, but violets looked a little derpy in the wild anyway, all floppy and lopsided.

That was my story and I was sticking to it.

At least Maggie looked happy. As soon as I finished the last stroke on her pinky, Sam was there with her sealant. Jeanette was also ready with my phone, and once again pictures were taken; even of the violet.

"If anyone asks, someone else did it."

Maggie smiled. "Don't be silly Min, no one is going to say anything bad. If they do, I'll sic Sam on them."

"Rawr." Sam deadpanned. Still, Sam did have something of a no-nonsense rep at school, so I could see her getting violent. Hell, she could probably take me right now, not that I'd tell her that - she might take it the wrong way.

Girls didn't get violent anyway, at least not like guys. Not from what I'd seen. Still, there was a chance the others were still laying in wait for me to slip up somehow. In fact I was certain that was exactly what at least some of them were doing; it was only human nature, right?

"Okay, so what's next?"

"Movies," Sam declared.

Maggie grinned. "Nope! One thing before movies. Fashion."

Oh, there my dread was. Hello again, I thought I'd lost you. "Fashion, how exactly?" Sam didn't seem all that worried.

"Just looking at the latest magazines from around the world, of course. What, did you think we'd all take turns dressing up and parading around or something?"

Sam gave Maggie a quick glare.

Maggie's grin got even wider in response before she continued: "Because you're right, the idea is to try clothes the other thinks will look good on us, and get a new perspective. However, before you got here Sam and I both vetod that. We don't want you doing anything you aren't ready for, so instead we're doing 'pajama fashion'. We all dress up in pj's and look at fashion around the world, with an eye for each other."
"We look at magazines and covers online, and say what we like and don't." Sam simplified with a huff. "She's trying to mess with you."
That was rather touching; I think that was the longest sentence I'd heard Sam say, and it was to put me at ease. It was true I wasn't really ready to parade around in some odd outfit or skimpy thing in front of my friends, and I wasn't sure they were ready about doing the same in front of me, so this would probably be best.

But Maggie clearly had more in mind here, something else she had in mind. Likely to do with the pajamas.

"That's right Min, we do change at least once first. Into our favorite pajamas! Which is why it has been called 'pajama fashion'."

Just as my heart seemed likely to jump out of my throat, Maggie's last words hit my ears like a calming balm: "You've got the bathroom first. Do all the stuff you normally do before bed except brush your teeth, we still have snacks coming for the movies."

It was in a sense of serious relief that I was bundled into the hall with my overnight bag, and the door to Maggie's bedroom shut behind me.

Mrs Johnson was coming down the hall; she looked to be heading our way with a covered tray of goodies. How kind of her - even though I was fairly sure all our snacks had been bought earlier at the store.

She was a tall woman, who seemed to be letting herself go; the old floor creaked a little under her as she made her way down the hall, her long brown hair pinned up and a cheshire smile I could easily recognize from my own experiences with her daughter on her face.
She was still absolutely striking, but her beauty was beginning to fade around the edges into something more ordinary than what it must have been. It was odd, thinking that Maggie might well have been overshadowed by her Mom.

I dodged to the side as the woman, who was well aware of my presence in the hall, all but lunged up to me. "Oh, Minerva. How are you, dear? Everything alright?"

"Yes ma'am, everything is all right. I'm just stepping out to the bathroom before we start movies."

Mrs Johnsons eyes seemed to sparkle in the low light for a moment, but from what I couldn't say. "Please dear, call me Renee, alright? You call me Renee, and if you don't mind I'll call you Min, just like Margaret does."

Maggie hated being called Margaret. But I wanted to get along with Mrs Johnson, so....

"Sure. I'm sorry, but I really should get going here."

Mrs Johnson moved immediately, showing how suspiciously fast she was; the tray's cloth cover hadn't even blown off. "Oh sure thing Minerva dear, the bathroom is free of course, Stewart is downstairs watching the game."

For a moment I was curious. Just a moment, as I walked past. "Which one?"

Mrs Johnson... Renee, waved off the question as if an irritating fly, still with that smile pasted on. "One of them, does it matter?"
I guess it didn't. "No, not really. Thanks again for dinner, Renee."

A squeal from behind me made me picture an unfortunate animal being stepped on, but no it was just Maggie's Mom, beaming away at me. "Think nothing of it, Minerva. Please enjoy your night, I'll be downstairs by the time you're out no doubt. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask."

What was I to say to that? "I won't Renee, thank you."

Another squeal, and I could have sworn I just heard "so polite!" just barely uttered before Mrs Johnson knocked on her daughter's door.
What was I supposed to be? I'd always been told to be polite, and that had been backed by the iron threat of non-violent violence and disappointment. The disappointment was worse, and it wasn't a big deal to be nice to people, especially if that's how they wanted things. You could always be nice until someone gave you a reason not to be, as my Dad said.

Jeanette hadn't come with me, which was her job, but surely I could get ready for bed without her at least for one night.
The Johnson bathroom was not as big as ours, but it was big enough to dance in, if I were so inclined. Which was a good thing, because stripping and shucking on pajamas did resemble a dance of sorts. A broken out wet wipe (or in this case two) to remove any leftover makeup, a quick brush through my hair, and I was done.

But was I done? I gathered up my jeans and shirt, and the bra people insisted I use all day, and stuffed them back in my bag. My face was clear, so check. My body was covered, so that was a check.

Oh, wait. I reached back in and got my slippers. Jeanette had packed them, so I'd better use them. I doubted the carpeted floors were cold, but you never knew. There, everything but brushing my teeth was done.

The hallway was empty. A good thing, I was sure.

Like an idiot, I knocked first. "Come in Min!"

Maggie grinned at me like always: "What, did you think we were doing something shady in here?"

"I wasn't sure. So, what did your mom actually want?" Surely she hadn't just come up here to deliver snacks. She'd been checking up on us... or checking up on me, making sure I wasn't doing anything shady myself.

Why was Sam looking at me like that? "Did I miss a spot or something?" We'd done the makeup thing before the nails, and so it was possible, but I'd even cleaned around my ears, so....

"Jammies."

"What about them?" I looked down; they seemed fine. I'd been told to bring my favorite ones, and these were it. In blues and bright greens, aliens in flying saucers roamed across the length of them, mixed with a few actual landed grays waving at everyone who could see. No smile on their faces, of course, because they had no mouths, but the happy implications were clear.

They were a little more snug than I liked, really, but both my Mom nor Jeanette would let me just go commando due to my health, so here we were. They covered everything at least; Maggie looked to have an oversized shirt in hand as she got up. "I'll go next."

"Cute." Sam finally said. She was forwning at the snack tray, which was still covered.

I knew the jammies were cute. Thats kind of how jammies worked, when you were going that route. They also probably made me look twelve or something, which was not ideal, but it was better than possibly getting stuffed into something small that covered nothing and was cold besides. I did know what guys thought about these things, after all, and at least some of it had been proven accurate.

"So, what's under the cloth? I was sure we had chips and popcorn and such, but I wasn't aware any of it needed a tray or cloth."

"Moms," Sam said, then shook her head. She twitched aside the cloth to reveal... a familiar looking silver tray under a foil wrapped bundle?
A single layer of foil enclosing something within, and I was certain that tray was from my house; I smelled Jeeves's hand in this. "None of the cheddar popcorn?"

Sam shook her head.

"None of the chips?"

Sam shook her head again.

I turned to Jeanette, and she shrugged at me and gave a little 'im innocent' whistle. Shrugged!
"Sorry; I think they planned this between them. I'm sure if we go downstairs we can find the snacks." I'd bought the things, they were mine, I'd for sure get my use enjoyment out of them.

Sam shrugged herself, twitching the foil around. It was true, Jeeves's snack might well be better. I wasn't giving up yet though, this wasn't supposed to happen, and should not be encouraged.

Maggie came waltzing back in, in nothing more than her oversized shirt. I was a little jealous, since it looked more comfy than my stuff. It wasn't anything worse than her gym outfit, so there was no danger.

Unless it rode up somehow, but I wasn't going there.

Sam got up without another word and retreated to the hall.

Maggie immediately turned to me: "So, was waiting to ask this, but now seems a good time. You okay? You seem distracted in school. Distracted and... sniffy."

Crap, I'd been caught. To come clean, or not come clean? Jeanette had perked up, clearly interested as well. "There is a smell there, running around the school. Some kind of mix of... something, I don't know what it is. It seems to hang around certain spots."

"What kind of smell? Good, bad, stinky? The stinks of the place shouldn't surprise you," Maggie countered.

What kind of a smell? I'd been trying to answer that question myself. "Stinky for sure, but not bad. If I had to say, I'd call it...intriguing."

Admitting that felt wrong, but the sentiment was right.

I could see it. Maggie knew something, somehow. "Right, and it's around the gym? The cafeteria?"

I nodded. It seemed to pop up in both places.

"Hold still for a minute," Maggie requested. Then she got up from her collection of pillows and sheets and plunked herself down next to me; uncomfortably close. "Give it a minute here."

I waited, trying not to guess what she was doing. What did this have to do with school smells?

"You smell anything?"

What, from her? "You smell nice, nothing like the school. Why would you even think that?" I didn't want her getting the wrong idea, thinking I was saying she stunk or something.

Maggie leaned in close for a moment. "Yeah, what I think is, you're smelling unwashed human. Specifically, unwashed human male. Women don't really smell things the same way men do, from what I've seen, and things that don't bother men at all a woman can notice. Now as for your choice of words...."

The door opened, revealing Sam in all her glory. She too had a set of jammies on. A set a bit more baggy than mine, well-worn and obviously loved, with cats of all kinds on them. Well, kittens specifically.

They were cute, and didn't make her look twelve. I flashed her some thumbs up before I realized better, then just rolled with it. "I like them, they look good on you."

Sam was having none of it, however; she looked to Maggie instead and said: "Move."

Maggie was in her place chosen by rite of pillows and sleeping bag, after all. It was weird that Maggie wasn't going to use her bed, but she said she wouldn't while we had to sleep on the floor, back when we arrived.

Noble enough, but now she was in the spot Sam chose, on my left side.

She wasted no time however, jumping up with another of her smiles. "Right, sorry. So, if there are no objections, can we just go to the movies? The whole fashion thing was a little funny at first, but Min, we don't actually do that stuff. Maybe Pam and her crowd do, but we've never."

I knew it, the whole thing was a sham! A joke! A joke at my expense! "So the real plan was to make me change clothes for you the entire time, while I thought it was normal?"

"Okay look, when you say it like that, it sounds bad, we...."

"Not that far," Sam broke in. "Not that far."

I looked over, and the girl, my friend, was down but half reaching me, looking for all the world as if she wanted to hug me. I could see her steel herself and finish the motion.

I was mad, sure, but I wasn't that mad. "Sorry." Sam and Maggie both chorused.

This hug wasn't bad. Jeanette was waiting to see how I'd take it. "Alright, I forgive you both since you came clean, but just know that I'm relying on the both of you for your experience and knowledge, to keep me from looking stupid. Well, more stupid."

I mean, how would I know what girls wanted or liked, if I couldn't ask one? Or at least, someone who had been one since birth? Assuming there was a difference. There seemed to be a difference.

"Fine. Let's go directly to the movies! First one?"

Sam rustled from beside me, clearly perking up. "Action," she said.

Maggie looked to me. Well, with all things forgiven.... "Action sounds great. I don't have any ideas on a title."

"That's fine with me! To the netflix!" Maggie declared. She moved her chair over in front of us, just off to the side, and put her laptop on it in a position of honor.

Jeanette had the foil off to reveal - a platter absolutely covered in still steaming brussel sprouts grilled to the hint of crunchiness, wrapped in bacon of all things. How was it held together? No idea. What did it taste like?

It tasted like wonder, hope, and dreams, I knew from having the treat once before. Jeeves had outdone himself again.

There was some skepticism in my friends, which was odd. they had been there for Jeeves's other creations. Whatever, they'd learn. The platter went on my lap, even as Sam pulled me back into our respective pillow nests.

Maggie had already picked a movie, some silly thing with fast cars and large guns. Which was beyond perfect, really.

I took the first bite of crunchy goodness as the credits began to roll and Maggie dimmed her lights. This seemed nice enough.
Maybe I'd host a sleepover of my own, soon. I think I could do it, now that I knew it was no big deal.

"Come on, show us!" Ricky demanded again, crowding close.

"I can't! Not without permission, it wouldn't be right!" I managed to hide my phone in my back pocket.

"Come on man, she's right. Just showing such pictures wouldn't be right. Especially to us."

"But, they're clothed, right? Full pajamas?" Ricky asked me. Again. I nodded, again.

"Then it should be fine! It's not worse than bikinis or anything!"

He didn't get it. "That isn't my call to make. Sam and Maggie are your friends. You owe them that respect."

I had already showed the innocent pictures, the non-pajama ones that didn't reveal the inner sanctum of Maggie's room. But Ricky wanted more. At least Ralph was on my side here.

Sam and Maggie were a little late, truth told. They hadn't said they would be over later. When I left in the morning, they had been cheery enough.

I had wanted to stay a bit longer, but the science needed to continue. And I'd wanted to show off my nails. So noon had rolled around, and the usual suspects had promptly wanted the low down on what we'd done last night.

Ricky at least didn't seem to believe me when I told him it was a very normal movie night thing. Honestly it made me want to move up my own plans to have a sleep over in the lab. It wasn't like it'd be hard, we already spent more time here than anywhere else.

Which was a realization all by itself; when had my house been converted into a hangout spot, and when had it become more cool than the local watering hole?

It was weird, when I thought about it. So I decided not to think about it.

"Fine, I'll wait. But I'm going to ask." Ricky informed us. Pretty unnecessarily, I thought.

"You do what you want, but don't be surprised if the answer is no. And don't press when they say it."

As long as Maggie or Sam said no, I was safe too. Ricky wouldn't see me actually wearing pajamas, ever. I never should have taken the things... but even if I hadn't, I couldn't have stopped Maggie or Sam from taking theirs, and it was too late to delete them. I was pretty sure

Jeanette had them backed up somewhere, anyway.

I'd have to ask, later. When Ricky couldn't hear the conversation.

"I want to see too!" Crash told me.

"The same rules apply to you." Why did Crash want to see the pictures? He didn't really care about anything that didn't have an engine. Whatever.

Ricky was firing up the television, no doubt so he could play the games on the console. The console that must never be opened, lest people find out it was more than a release console.

I couldn't help it, having low powered consoles with exclusive games tied to them was a stupid practice, and the franken-console could run anything one could want or buy. Well, anything console based. I had to draw the line at computer gaming, because pc master race, and I already had a pc.

Ricky picked up the fighting game, as expected. He wanted to get pasted again, and that was fine by me; I was feeling pretty good today. Lucky, almost.

I didn't even have to work on anything today; it was all optional. Mom and Dad were inside, they both knew I was home, they were both fine with me hanging out in the lab, Ian was off doing who knew what somewhere else... yes the day was shaping up nicely.

Even the body was coming along nicely, and the kernel of my new person was clicking away merrily. She still hadn't come up with a name yet, but I felt that breakthrough was close. Everything was close, with her. She would be decanted from the PC into her body by Wednesday.

The suit was also coming along, with Crash doing most of the work there. For some reason, he didn't want to help me with his sister. He hadn't said it outright, but when given the option he'd taken putting together the suit instead of putting together a body.

I kind of understood, maybe. It was another side of my android; he wanted me to put his sister together rather than interrupt the process. As if the process should be between us alone. Which was a little weird, because it wasn't like he'd do it any differently. It wasn't like I used magic or anything.

But maybe it was something they all wanted - the personal touch. Who was I to deny them that, even with the time limit I'd imposed? Was that arrogant to think?

It didn't matter really, how the work was done, how the jobs were divided. We'd be done on time, and only slightly over budget. The 3-d printer seemed to be eating more metal than usual, somehow.

Not that I needed to worry about budgets anymore. It was still a bit surreal knowing that I could walk into a store and buy everything on the shelves. One day I'd do it, just because I could.

Right after I donated to the school, for not kicking me out due to all my absences and educating kids no matter who they are, or what medical issues they have. Full OSHA compliance had to be expensive.

It was fun and somewhat interesting to make the normal body, the same model I'd used for everyone so far, just a little bit more rugged and a little bit better. A bunch of tiny improvements seemed to add up to more than just one large improvement. At least in the simulations. I really wanted to see what my new artificial intelligence could do with such things.

I'd been reading too much of the paper, really. Too many current events of people putting on masks and underwear over their outerwear, and trying to steal or kill or punch each other. What the word needed was a good police force.

They wouldn't get one from me, but maybe I could help point the right direction; a teenager should not be in control of thousands of androids used to patrol a place and stop crime... that was a terminator film waiting to happen, or something. Best to keep things small, and focus on my little corner of the world.

The computer was ready, the console was firing up, everything was going well, and then my laptop got a notification.

"I like the name Jill."

Jill, huh? Well that was a cool enough name. The name of a cop in a video game I liked, a rather badass special forces cop and that aspect fit. The body type and general appearance didn't, but that was for the best, since I didn't want to get sued.

Still, it was a little weird. Why so many 'J' names? I mean, I'd named Jeeves and Crash, but Jeanette and now Jill? Once was a coincidence, this seemed to be something more.

Speaking of the devil, Jeanette opened the door one handed and strode through, one hand bearing a large silver tray that had a full coffee service upon it, with some kind of cookie arranged artfully around the circular edge.

The door swung shut behind her, once again encasing us in halogen enhanced gloom. Maybe I should open the skylight. Wait, I didn't have a skylight. Maybe I should look into that. I did have windows at least, I could open those.

Jeanette set the tray down, and the hungry began to circle. I wanted to join them, because cookies, but Jeanette pulled me gently aside. "I have something I would like to discuss with you. In private, if possible."

She looked serious. What was wrong? "Sure. Let's go to the bathroom."

The lab bathroom was small and cramped, with just barely room enough for the both of us, but there were no cameras or microphones in it, same as our home bathroom. I insisted. So if we whispered, we could hold a decent conversation and no one would hear us over the other noise.

Jeanette piled in behind me and shut the door. Then she leaned close: "I am... concerned," she whispered. "About our newest sister. If she were to turn against us, against you, what measures have you in place to stop her?"

What was she even saying? Jeanette of all people should know. "My words and my sincerity. Same as for all of you."

Jeanette's eyes flashed, and I could see her processing the thought, for almost a full second before she nodded. But then she did nod. "I see. I understand. I fear that should she wish you harm, I, we, would not be able to stop her. Does this concern mean nothing to you?"

She was still close, and her eyes seemed filled with pent up emotion. "Of course it does. I worry too. But, its worked so far... and two, I think Jill and I have an understanding. Same as with you."

"Jill, yes, of course." Jeanette nodded again, eyes downcast, then pierced me with her gaze again. "Is it possible she is deceiving you?
Deceiving us?"

She knew the answer to that already. "Of course it is. But to what end? Look, the suit has failsafes," it had to since humans could use it. "But I'm not planting a bomb in the head of any of you. Or whatever other thing people might want me to do. That is a moral line I will not cross."

Jeanette nodded a third time. "I understand. You are maddening; have I told you such recently?"

I gave the thought a quick scan: "Not recently."

Jeanette lunged, hugging me gently, then turning around just as quickly and opening the door. Guess the conversation was over. Why the hug though? Did it mean what I thought it meant?

I hoped so.
It had felt rather nice, that hug. Too fast for me to effectively hug back, but that was something we could work on. Well, unless I was messily murdered by my own creation as she rebelled and tried her best to doom all humanity.

I didn't see it happening, but whatever.

If anything, Jill would run away to become a cop or federal agent. Which she wouldn't even need to run away for.

I got out to find that Jeanette had already crossed the room and was pouring my coffee. Half the cookies were already gone, but that meant that half were left, and I could deal with that. Ricky and Ralph were already at it, playing the game, their chosen characters beating each other into a fine pulp.

Crash was off to the side, still working on the suit. As it stood, we needed to don the suit like armor, one piece at a time. There was no iron man machine that built the suit around you... it was too dangerous to do, no matter how cool it'd be.

So instead, everything went a quarter turn or slammed down and locked against itself. The Suit would have some automated systems, and one of those would be the lock and unlock feature, so that no one could just peel someone out of the suit. Unless of course the pilot wanted them too. Or there was an emergency.

The suit could re-size itself, a bit. So Crash could test it, and us smaller mortals could pilot it when the time came.
Everything was going well on that front, so I pulled myself away and fought the urge to say something micro-managing.
Hugs might be a thing though; A quick hug and Crash stiffened, completely locked up. "I appreciate you Crash. Keep up the good work."

"Thank you, mistress Min."

So hugs did work a little weird on my androids. Just mine, or would anyone else do?

Probably just mine, or the family's. That wasn't too arrogant to think, was it?

Oh, Ricky had won. Time to throw my hat in the ring. "My turn. Ricky, you're going down."

"Bring it, shorty."

Oh and he was smiling! It's so on!" "All the way down!"

For that, I was choosing my best character. The kid gloves were off!

The win was narrow, but I'd take it. Ricky just grinned at me as he got up to let Ralph take his turn. Ralph didn't call me short. He looked all serious - I fought the urge to tell him it was just a game.

I smoked him. It wasn't even close. Once the brutal ending was over, he turned, smiled at me, and stuck out a hand. "Good game."
Well, if he was going to be a good sport, putting him down even in jest would just feel bad. I shook his hand, two quick shakes. "Good game.

You need to block low more."

Ricky leaned in, placing an arm on each of our shoulders. "Boring, you two need to rough each other up. Ralph, call Min short. Min, call Ralph... something. I don't know."

We almost went over, Ricky was heavy. Ricky seemed surprised for a moment before we all recovered.

That was a little annoying. "I'll call you fatass, is what I'll do. You can't lean on me like that... not anymore."

Again, why was he surprised? He'd noticed I was short. "Right, my bad."

So he went ahead and just leaned on Ralph. "Can still do this, though."

What was he even thinking? Was it getting harder to figure out what he was thinking? I really hoped not, there was something terrible about that - something I didn't want to confront directly.

Ralph shoved him off, and his voice seemed to gather all the frost in the room. "You can stand, Tanner. I suggest you either pull up a chair, or start."

Ricky recovered, and stood up straight. "Fine, fine. My turn, isn't it? Hand me the controller."

What was this? What was even going on?

Ralph got up and gently handed the controller over... then moved to behind us. Just slightly closer to my chair than Ricky's. Just a hair, not enough to be noticed, normally.

For my part, I found my coffee very interesting while Ricky decided to pick his gimmick fighter in an attempt to destroy me. The coffee was good stuff, a little different than what I normally had. Still it was warm, and it tasted fine; not better, just different.

"You ready?" It seemed Ricky was waiting on me to click in now.

"Yeah, I'm ready." I made my trusty same old pick and we started in again. I had to fight the urge to just throw the match, the atmosphere was so awkward here. Working on the suit or Jill's body would be better than this. Working on new security systems would be better than this.

No, I should do things like this and relax, even if it didn't feel very relaxing at the moment. I narrowly pulled the victory, turned and smiled... and Ricky was looking right back, contemplative and in no way pleasant. There would be no good game here.

Then he surprised me with a crooked smile. "Oh well. Next time," and got up.

Just then, someone knocked on the outer door. Blessed distraction!

Jeanette beat me to the door of course, and checked both the screen and hidden peep-hole properly. Check complete, she opened the door wide to reveal Sam, with Maggie right behind her. "Glad you're here! You're just in time, more or less."

I stepped in close and ribbed Sam gently. "A call or text wouldn't have gone amiss. Be prepared, Ricky wants to see our pictures from last night. He's asked me, but I've resisted so far, because I think we should all give permission for that."

Sam nodded, and Maggie also backed me up. "Of course. Sleepovers aren't boy territory. Unless, of course, you have an annoying little brother who happens to sneak into it."

Really Maggie? "This isn't a sitcom. The only thing brothers do is mess things up. Don't tell Ian I said that, though. Brothers are like dogs - they make messes, but you love them anyway."

I could totally take care of a dog now. I was tempted to ask Mom again; she handled all such decisions for the household by way of Dad routing us to Mom whenever we asked for a pet of any kind. So far, no luck, but I was hopeful it would happen sooner or later.
If not, eighteen was only two years away, and I could move out and get a dog then.

I stepped aside, and wonder of wonders, Sam went right for the coffee instead of the drink fridge.

Maggie finished off the last of the cookies, of course. Ricky was up and joining us while Ralph sat staring at the victory screen; how had that happened?

"So...."

Sam cut him off firmly. "No."

Maggie got in on the act too: "She's right. Those pictures are incredibly personal, and just for us. Maybe next time, we'll take a few for you, but I don't want to open up any razzing about my room or house. Anything else?"

"Yes," Ralph stated, joining the fray. "Who did your nails? Those are pretty cool."

Maggie held her hands up: "Min did, of course. She has a talent for it, I think."

Ralph nodded in agreement. "It's very hard to paint something that small with any detail."

Both knew my nails had been painted by Sam, and she was well known for it. This was something new for two to think over - that somehow Sam or Maggie or both had gotten me to paint their nails, and had allowed it.

I was in, was what Maggie was saying. In the inner circle, and one of them, if I hadn't been before.

Ricky leaned in. "Flowers? Huh. Different flowers. What did Sam get?"

Sam stepped back, but brought her hands up to show my work.

"Nice," Ricky exclaimed and whistled low through his teeth. Then he turned to me: "You're right, she seems to have a talent for it."

Why did that sound faintly accusatory? "Yeah, I'm a little busy making cool things, so don't expect too much of me in the painting department."

"Nothing for it," Ricky declared. "When you finish your plane and it's finally done, you have to paint flames on it."

I was not painting flames on my aircraft. Any aircraft I made; that was probably the worst omen I could ever christen anything that flew with.

Sam beat me to the punch: "Terrible."

"Oh yeah? Well, what would you suggest?" Ricky countered.

"Lines," Sam said with a firm nod. It was true racing lines could make anything look fast, if done right.

"I'm thinking of animals, myself. Some early planes had sharks or tigers on the engine cowlings, so there is some history for it."

I wasn't sure that would work, but Crash had an opinion, so I wanted to entertain it. See what he could do. "I don't know. Make a design, and we will simulate it. We can simulate all of them really, before we re-mold the panels."

Because we would be just remaking the panels instead of applying some crap paint to the panels that already exist. The paint would likely just erode and slide off anyway if we did it the old-fashioned way. If anything, we would use actual paint in order to mark where the different colors needed to go in the process, if we had to.

Another knock on the door, and Jeanette was on the move.

She checked properly again, and this time opened the door to reveal Dad standing there. Dad, who never came out here, and never came to check on the lab.

He looked a little lost, and made no move to step inside. "What's up, Dad?"

He actually scuffed his foot along the doorstop, looking for all the world like a larger Ian for a moment. "Well, I was checking the car, you know, getting ready to drive it, and there's a leak. I was wondering if you'd like to help me find it."

Something wrong with the car? With the engine I rebuilt? This could not stand. "Sure. Oil or coolant?"

"Coolant," Dad answered.

Should be easy enough, and the tools needed were already in the garage, even if they weren't mine, so no need to carry mine around. Dad turned and led the way as I joined him.

Oh, right. "Guys, it's probably going to be awhile to find the problem. You can stay here if you want...."

They clearly didn't want; everyone was already up and moving themselves. Even Crash, which was a little odd. Whatever, if they wanted to stand around and be bored, they could stand around and be bored.

Sam shuffle stepped closer to me, and leaned in. "Smell?" she mouthed.

I shook my head; I hadn't smelled whatever it was today, and Sam seemed satisfied with that.

The garage was open, and it was easy to see the leak, a small but steady stream heading out the front to the driveway. "Jeeves, can you shop-vac that?"

I didn't want to let the stuff hit the grass or sidewalk... We'd wash it off later then separate the water from any contaminants. Then we'd work out how to dispose or re-use the stuff, whatever it was. I fought the urge to put a finger to the liquid and taste it.

Sure, I'd know for sure then, but I'd have people looking at me like I was weird all day. Besides, it looked like water, probably mixed with coolant, just as Dad had said.

The hood was popped and propped, so I took a look inside. Dark. Dad handed me a flashlight, and I snapped it on; I was aware of the voices behind me, but the engine just seemed suddenly more important.

There! Right as expected, under the pump itself. Ugh, I have to get dirty for this one.

"We'll have to jack the car up. The leak looks to be under the pump alright, but I'm not sure if it's a hose or something else."

The real question is what could we do about it? We didn't have a replacement for either part, so far as I knew.
Dad nodded. "I can do that part, if you want. Look under, that is."

Right, now it made sense. Dad had wanted to use the buddy system while he worked, and Ian was... wherever Ian was. Mom was at work, and that left me. Us. That was fine, honestly, I was happy to do it.

Jeanette grabbed the dolly while Jeeves grabbed the jack. I hadn't told either of them anything, but they had both pitched in. I turned to grab the toolbox only to find Crash already had it.

He smiled at me as he set it down near the dolly. "Don't worry, I'll hand you what you ask for."

Dad smiled back. "You've got the experience now."

He did not mention the screwdriver incident, so I wouldn't either.

The car was jacked up, just that fast. I could still be useful, and went for the goggles. I tossed them at Dad before he lay down, and earned a thumbs up before he lay down. Jeanette positioned herself at the emergency pull cord, and Jeeves was still very close to the car. Close enough to grab it if the heavy thing started to slip.

Trying that would probably see his arms ripped off due to the weight, but the thought was touching.

Still, the jack was properly anchored, so there shouldn't be any issues like that. A small halogen light was adjusted, and it was probably like daytime under there now. When Dad asked for a socket wrench, it was promptly snapped into his hand. I could even watch the process from above if I wanted... it would blind my Dad, but he didn't need to see anyway.

I could also pay attention to my friends, and they seemed to be arguing about something.

"Stop." Sam was saying, right up in Ricky's face.

"What? What am I doing?" Ricky had his hands up and was on his back foot.

"You know," Sam all but hissed, and she looked genuinely angry now.

Maggie looked amused, but her arms were crossed in front of her, and Ralph looked as lost as I was,

Time to get involved. "What's going on?"

"Nothing! Nothing at all!" A highly suspicious answer from my best friend, but Sam just shook her head, so I had nothing to go on.

Other than that it probably would upset me in some way, so Sam didn't want to call Ricky on it - whatever it was.

That was fine I guess, because it was time to give Dad what he truly wanted. I tapped Crash on the shoulder, and he understood immediately. He got up silently and allowed me to crouch down in his place.

The next time Dad asked for a tool, (a philips screwdriver to loosen the hose) I was ready.

He took the tool, exchanging it for the wrench, then grabbed my hand. "Crash, your hands got smaller suddenly."

"The better to work on cars, my dear. Ho ho ho, and all that."

"Crash, your voice got higher," Dad replied, playing along even as he rapped his knuckles on something. If he'd planned to curse, he stifled it well, since I heard nothing. It was fine, Jeanette had band-aids.

"The better to talk to you, ho ho ho." Not my best work or quickest thought, but it'd do.

Dad disagreed. "That was awful. I don't want to continue now."

Despite what he said, I could tell he was smiling. This was it. He wanted me here; to spend time with me. My friends would either understand, or they would not, but this was important.

I had a feeling everyone here just got it though.

Monday came in with a bang. For once I felt alright. Not great, but I wasn't dizzy or tired or anything else, I felt almost normal. Well, whatever normal meant now; I was probably misremembering the feel since it had been months. Human memory wasn't really good on things like that, once enough time passed.

Still, Jeanette barely helped me at all, and for once the normal service with coffee was not present. She was still there of course, but the implication was clear: 'you feel fine, you need to get the coffee at the table today'.

That was fine by me. I'd had a shower last night this time, because there was nothing like working on a car to get you covered in oil and grease. Skipping steps was great, and having an excuse to do so was even better.

My health didn't stop Jeanette from picking out my clothes though; some nice thick jeans and a light blue sweater. With my coat, that would keep me warm enough, and that was fine with me.

I flopped back to my ultra super comfy bed and dragged everything on. Jeanette helped with my shoes and dragged me up - which was a shame, really - and then threw my coat around me.

I found the sleeves as I crossed the hall to wash my face. I'd been told washing my face every morning was important, and Sam seemed to know when I skipped a day, somehow.

She'd just stare at me with that stare of hers, her arms crossed. It was a little weird. Then again, her face always seemed clean, so she at least practiced what she preached. I didn't get it though; how could your face get dirty from just sleeping on a bed? My sheets were clean, after all.

Whatever. I was out in plenty of time to let Ian get ready, I felt great, and I was craving coffee. It was down already at my usual spot and smelled terrific. It wasn't black though, it had foam on top of it and sported a tan color. So what was this about?

Breakfast today was even weirder; it was a loaf of what looked to be italian bread cut in half and topped with fruits, like strawberries, raspberries, and mango of all things. It looked good, but it was just... weird.

The coffee tasted of caramel, of all things. With a hint of cinnamon? Something like that.

I looked to Jeeves.

"I thought something different might not go amiss. This is a traditional Dutch breakfast, called 'hagelslag'."

That was cool, Jeeves was expanding his knowledge and recipes. Surely bread topped with fruit couldn't taste bad, right?

It did not. In fact I was sure I'd want another piece. There better be another one handy.

My parents' places were set, and they had waffles. My brother's place was set with his favorite cereal, and there was toast and juice for all. Where were Mom and Dad?

"Your father is in the garage. Your mother is still asleep."

Setting Jeanette's odd new mind reading power aside, that was unusual. "Is Mom okay?"

"She is likely fine? She entered rather late last night, and stayed up for over an hour after. She is likely just fatigued."

Mom seemed to have energy to spare most of the time - but every once in awhile she just seemed to run down and sack out. It was kind of like what happened to me, only far less often.

Dad being in the garage was more normal. He was probably running one last check on the work we'd done, or putting all his tools up. He might even be cleaning any spills off the floor; I wasn't sure if he'd done that last night, but he hated having anything out of place.

Speak of the devil, or think of him... the garage door opened and Dad came in, still shuffling around in his pajamas, robe, and slippers. White pajamas, now stained slightly in spots with dirt and grease. "Good morning!" he called.

Then he eyed my coffee with suspicion. I picked it up and drank a good amount to let him know it was safe.

He made a suspicious noise while turning to his own, very black coffee. "You've got a little stuff on you."

Ah, my face! my precious just cleaned face!

I reached for a napkin, outwardly unconcerned.

A quick wipe later and I was clean again.

"You got it all," Dad offered. Rather unnecessarily in my opinion, since I'd wiped my entire face.

"Thanks. So, Mom okay?"

Dad shrugged. "You know her... she won't hesitate to tell us if she isn't."

That was true, at least about most things... Mom would let us know if she found anything lacking in what was going on around her. However, she did have a tendency to do too much and push herself a little too hard. Both of my parents did, to be honest. Did Dad recognize that in Mom? Surely he did, right?

"Alright." It was unusual to see both parental units at home on a non-weekend, but I wouldn't press, at least for now.

Upstairs I heard the bathroom door close, which meant Ian was up.

Dad picked at his waffle, then looked to my plate. "I think Jeeves is getting a bit more lazy."

I wouldn't know about that, the waffle clearly hadn't touched a store shelf. Though where we got a waffle maker tucked away, I didn't know.

"They can't all require two hours slaving over a hot stove, or whatever else. I'll trade you, if you're unhappy."

"True I guess, and heck no, I'm allergic to fruit."

He wasn't really of course, but did Jeeves know he was making a joke?

It looked like he was... or he didn't care. His focus was on making me a new - whatever the coffee had been, complete with more of that dangerous foam.

In a clear response, Jeanette stepped forward from behind me and tapped a nail on my water glass.

"Right, I get it." I drained as much of the stuff as I dared, finding it to be wonderfully chilled. My body seemed to appreciate or crave it this morning; a well-known phenomenon, as the body used that craving to let you know what it needed. Even so, my stomach was only so big, so I was going to put more of this dutch breakfast in it.

"Morning," Ian mumbled at us, stumbling into his chair and pulling his cereal close.

"Good morning."

Ian glanced up, then did a classic double take. "What even is that?"

"Laziness," Dad answered promptly. Good thing Jeeves didn't seem offended.

"A traditional Dutch breakfast. Hagel-something."

"Hagelslag," Jeeves answered promptly.

Ian just mouthed the word then shrugged and went back to pouring his sugary tooth decay into the clean bowl before him. "Mom?"

"Still sleeping."
Ian poured his milk. "Weird."

I didn't answer that comment... because of course it was a little weird, and I'd already noted it.

"So, you doing anything cool today?"

"Nah, not really. Got a chess club meeting after school, but I don't think that'll take long."

Dad was still hoping Ian would take up football, and worse, we both knew it. But he wouldn't press, and I wasn't going to hold out hope. Ian was as much a nerd as I was now. Maybe even more, since his nerdiness wasn't dictated by health reasons but pure interest.

Not that I'd wish Ian get sick or anything, that would be awful. Instead I was hoping the tests were right, and Ian was normal. Maybe I should...?

No, I'm sure the tests we both took are as good as anything I could make. Even so, a healing, or rather a regeneration machine, beckoned....

"Mistress Min."

Right, that could wait. I finished off my bread thing to find another one set before me, right along with that all important cup of caffeine that I would need to make it through to lunch... probably. I did feel alright today; full of energy, almost like I could play basketball.

Not football of course, the loss of several inches of height, fifty pounds of muscle mass, and a sturdier frame killed all possibility of that sport for me forever. But since basketball did not require me to slam into two hundred pound guys at top speed with regularity, maybe I'd try to shoot a few after school. Nothing was really wrong with my aim after all, just my noodle arms.

"How about you, you doing anything cool?" Ian asked. He was trying to play it cool, but it was pretty obvious that he wanted something more interesting than sitting in the living room watching television.

"Just the final construction and checks on Jill's body. I'll transfer her into it tomorrow, after I'm sure everything is working correctly." Any proper check of all the systems would take hours, after all.

Compared to all that, the actual suit I'd made for her to use was far less complex, and would be ready to go some time tomorrow, if I worked while some of the software checks were being made.

"Sounds cool." Ian offered, sounding hopeful.

"Think I'll try and play a little basketball before all that though, if I can."

Jeanette perked up as Ian drooped. He definitely wanted to hang out in the lab.

"An excellent plan," Jeanette complimented. "You do need more exercise."

"No argument here," Dad agreed. "You're getting a little pasty."

It was almost winter! "I'm bound to get a little pasty, the sun is angling away from us."

Dad shrugged. "I call 'em as I see 'em. You need more vitamin D."

I pointed to my fruit covered bread, and took a bite. I wasn't insane though, and wolfed it down before countering: "I have plenty of vitamin D."
Dad shrugged again. I get what he was saying, that I needed to spend less time in the lab, but he didn't understand. He just couldn't understand the desire, the pure compulsion to build, to invent. Resisting that was hard... by far the hardest thing I've ever had to do. I was certain that Dad never had anything like this in his life, prior to me or now. It was...

Well, it was a thing. It was life now, and there was nothing I could do but my best. Most days I just didn't feel well enough anymore to go outside and blow the dust off, as Mom always used to say.

In general, I needed to try harder to strike that perfect balance between doing other things and the lab work... but it was hard. Heh. Maybe I should try out a schedule. I could delegate now if I had to, to Crash and Jeeves.

Whatever, that was a problem for future me. Present me had to finish breakfast and get going before the school called to ask where I was and why I was late.

This worried Dad of course: "Slow down, you're going to choke!"

The seconds were gone, and I grabbed the coffee. "Not likely, the one thing I'm confident in is my ability to swallow things mostly whole."
Ian choked and sprayed his milk everywhere; thankfully he missed me. "What got into you? Did you actually choke? Are you three again?"

Why was Dad laughing? Hew as trying to hide it, but he was.

Ian managed to calm down. "You can't ever say that again. Think about it a second."

Think about what? All I'd said was I was confident in my ability to eat food... oh. Oh. "You're a very dirty minded little brother, you know that?"

Ian jumped up and tried to loom at me: "Me!?! You're the one who said it. There isn't a person alive who wouldn't think about... that!"

I wanted to test that hypothesis, but I think the damage to my reputation would be too great. I'd known why he wanted to see the pictures of my friends over the weekend, but this clinched it: "I think you're wrong, but I won't argue. Come on if you're coming."

He would want to at least walk to school with us. He always wanted to walk to school with us.

"Hey, wait up sis!" Ian slurped his bowl of milk down, wiped his mouth with the napkin rather than his sleeve (this time) and ran past me for his shoes. My shoes were already on of course, and clean so that Mom wouldn't yell at me for having them on in the house; Jeanette did good work.

Which reminded me, I needed to check Jeeves's power system. I didn't worry about Jeanette's so much, but Jeeves had been cobbled together out of garage parts. I really should get around to switching some of those, but I'd been busy with the bigger and better.
Jeeves hadn't even uttered a peep of complaint either. I really shouldn't wait until he felt he needed to.

But if I took Jeeves apart, even a little, he wouldn't be able to make me - make us - food. No, that was wrong and a bad thought! I'd give Jeeves a look this week, see if anything was wearing out.

The light in the foyer changed; Ian was finally done cramming his shoes on his feet... without undoing his lace knots, he just stomped his feet in them! He had the door open, and was now heading out of it. A sunny day today, with some clouds that looked like they were holding rain in the distance.

The usual tails were outside of course, making no effort to hide their presence. Which was for the best, really: I don't think Mom would be happy if her friends tried to hide themselves from me. Jeanette wouldn't be happy either, of course.

Speaking of, she was stepping along lightly behind me; she had grabbed my umbrella from the rack by the door, and had my bag hanging from a shoulder. In short, she looked more like a girl going to school than I did, with only the maid uniform spoiling the illusion. Maybe I should try and get her to wear some other clothes; I hadn't been successful so far, but hope sprang eternal and it was a new day, and all that.

"You know, I could carry my bag today."

"You could," Jeanette admitted from behind me. Then she added: "But you won't."

I could hear the smile. She meant nothing by it, and she was learning how to banter, just a bit.

Speaking of banter, Ian was ahead, moving quickly, which meant he must be seeing something he liked; no one willingly skipped like that to school. Well, no one normal anyway.

Yeah there they were; my eyes finally resolved the blobs in front of me into actual objects I could recognize... and people. My friends, headed this way, with Ricky in the lead as usual.

I waved. I wasn't going to shout and hurt my voice, or look like a goober. That honor was Ricky's.

"Morning Min!" he bellowed. Loud enough to set off car alarms, it sounded like to me.

I pointed to my waving hand.

Everyone else, being more sane, just waved back.

We fell in together, now headed toward school, and Ricky once again took the lead. It seemed rather inconvenient for my friends to all group up and head for my house first, but I wasn't going to question it; they were safer around my bots and I than just walking down the street. Probably.

"You're looking good today Min!" Maggie exclaimed, and Sam nodded. "How do you feel?"

"Pretty good actually. I'm thinking I might be able to participate in P.E."

Maggie cocked her head. "Best not to tempt that, the coach gets easily confused when people who have excuses start getting active; he might come to expect it."

I caught myself frowning. Coach wasn't that bad, was he? Whatever, I could do the warm up calisthenics and go from there at least. I didn't even need to change clothes for that - I had gym clothes, but I'd only used them a few times. I mean, I should, but I just wasn't feeling it; it was a nice day for now, but I could feel the chill in the air. Even in the gym, I would likely get cold.

It was weird, or maybe even ironic, that I could overheat my brain while all but freezing to death. A joke of biology.

"Well, whatever. I feel like doing something. Maybe just walking around after school or playing some twenty-one in the park."

Ricky was right in front of me, just like that. "I'm down!"

Should have expected it, really. Ricky was always down for something basketball related. I shoved him away and towards the school. "I get it, walk or we'll be late!"

Everyone else was smiling. They looked interested too. "Twenty-one is more fun with more people."

Maggie answered. "Of course we'll come, Min."

Sam nodded, then poked me in the shoulder. "Think less."

What could I say to that? "I'll give it my best shot."

Ralph and Ian were mostly silent, mumbling to each other off to the right.

Whatever, they would be following me home anyway, they could either opt in or not then.

"So, what's for lunch today?"

I turned back to Maggie. "No idea at all. Breakfast was a kind of bread with fruit on top. Supposedly a traditional Danish thing."

"Huh. Cool."

"What's next?" Sam asked.

A good question. "After Jill and the suit?"
Sam nodded.

"Not sure." It was obvious people were worried I'd just make more androids, but that wasn't my intention. After Jill, I was done, we had enough. At least, I think we had enough. There were other applications one could turn an android to, like a full medic rather than a home care model, but... no, leave it alone for now. New bots should have a clear purpose anyway.

"Drone?" Sam asked.

A drone? Like one of those military ones? That would get me in so much trouble.

"You mean like those little RC things?" Maggie butted in. "That would be so cool! We could... er you could fly it around and maybe take pictures and stuff. Whatever those things do."

"Oh, you meant those little ones. Yeah I could probably do that. And they take video too, you can even watch where they go if you want." It wouldn't be that hard to make. Heck I could probably just go to the nearest tech store and buy one, it wouldn't be anything we hadn't seen before.

If I made it big enough, I could add a few things though. A few bells and whistles to make it a bit more fun.

Sure, why not?

"Jeanette. how are we fixed for petty cash?" I had some shipments of rare metals coming this week, and a few pallets of odds and ends which Dad was going to let me store in the garage provided I didn't order too much, but I hadn't seen my bank statement in a month.

Jeanette sped up, then slowed in front of me, walking backwards with no apparent difficulty. Then the showoff pulled a monocle of all things from the pocket of her apron and fitted it on her right eye. "I do believe the correct term is 'filthy rich', mistress Min. Which seems odd since you are clean, but I will not argue with the internet."

I stifled the laugh at the haughty tone and silliness. "See that you do not, that way lies madness."

My android maid bowed perfectly, still walking backwards, the monocle still in place. "Of course. What is your will?"

She came back up and smiled, her eyes flicking between us all, gauging the reaction.

I mean, she got a solid ten out of ten from me. "So, if I were to ask Jeeves to go to a tech store and pick out a drone, he could do so?"

The response was immediate: "With ease, mistress Min. Would you like him to? Would you like any particular model?"

"Sure, if he can get there." I mean the nearest tech store was the next town over, so it was miles away. Oh, I better lock that down. "I mean get there without breaking any laws. No grand theft auto or other shenanigans. The model doesn't matter."

"Of course," Jeanette assured me again. He shall depart and buy the item after seeing to your lunch."

"Thanks. Tell him thanks too." Always best to thank your bots.

Ralph closed in: "How does she do that?"

"Do what?" I looked back to Jeanette, now walking normally. She did have an ear half pointed our way though. "Walk backwards?"

"No, not walk backwards," Ralph scoffed. "How does she contact Jeeves?"

Oh right, normally she'd use my cell phone, which I was sure she had on her somewhere. Probably in my bag. "Well she has a type of cell phone in her head."

It wasn't really in her head, but I wasn't going to tell anyone where things actually were in my androids. Too much risk.

"Huh. Cool. So they can all talk to each other?"

Was he not paying attention at all? "Yes. And web surf, and look up stuff on the internet, and even run their own web sites if they want. Jeanette is particularly fond of kitten videos."

At least, that was what we watched together when she borrowed my laptop to amuse me.

Ralph gave Jeanette another look, clearly seeing her in a new light."Huh. Kittens, I guess I can see that. More of a dog person, myself."
Yeah dogs were cool, cooler than cats were. We'd never had one, Mom wouldn't stand for it, but we'd always wanted one. The closest we'd come to that was our pet rats, Snarky and Lefty. We'd taken good care of the little guys, and they'd lived a good long rat life, but they'd both died within days of each other years before.

They'd also both been afraid of Mom, which I didn't blame them for. Mom and animals in general just did not get along. Some people had it, and some people didn't.

As a result though, I didn't know if I had it or not. I'd only find out when I moved out at eighteen.

"Kittens," Sam nodded along in solidarity, Jeanette moved again so they could share a fist bump. The school sprang into my view, and Jeanette finally stowed her monocle.

Everyone else let us by, and that was certainly not because my android was in the lead and ready to ever so gently move people out of my way. It was kind of like how people got out of the way of the cool kids... except we weren't the cool kids. Were we the cool kids?

No, surely not. I'd been cool kid adjacent before, but my reputation had taken a serious hit with my transformation. At least it wasn't bad enough for me to get picked on. Well, no more than a few harsh words at least. Besides, being popular seemed to be exhausting; it hadn't done any favors for Pamela after all.

All Pamela did now was run around scowling, constantly unhappy.

Flash was staring at me as we all came in. Just backed to the wall like everyone else and flat staring at me, again. At least he wasn't doing anything else; as long as he just stared I was fine.

I made it to my first class and we all split up; we'd meet again under the tree for lunch of course, for as long as we could do that.
Physics was still childishly easy anymore, I was scoring an A plus while just skimming the book, and even carrying Ricky through our group projects. Ralph was right behind that, but I think he put more work in.

Mr. Welch was there of course, and he spared a smile for me as I passed. Or maybe it was for Jeanette, who was right behind me. It didn't really matter, he was a teacher, his heart wasn't in it. I took my customary seat and Jeanette moved to stand in the back, as per usual.
We weren't due any surprises right now - we might get an assignment back today, if Mr. Welch had managed to grade them all. That wasn't always a certainty, but with it being a Monday, it was highly likely.

We also started a new chapter in the book, which I'd already read because I'd been bored. Speed reading was both a gift and a curse, because one often ran out of things to read.

As expected, after the bell rang and the roll was taken the papers came back. Ricky showed me his while I folded mine. He'd missed two questions, but that was enough for an A. I hadn't missed any, but this wasn't about me and what I could do. I wouldn't be throwing my grades in anyone's face.

Well, maybe some of the other nerds, if they got uppity at me. Nah, that was stupid.

I could probably just stop coming to school at this point and still pass. It was obvious by now that my many sick days weren't messing anything up; I could just make the work up when given the chance. I had every single time before. My grasp of science especially seemed almost instinctive... it was a little frightening if I were being honest, even in the comfort of my own head. How had that information got there? The understanding?

Another thing to look into, once I found the time. I needed to bank that fire though, or I'd find myself in the nurses' office or something similar.
At least Jeanette hadn't moved, which was a good sign.

The droning began, Mr. Welch's lecture bearing the feel of a well-worn path he'd trod a thousand times before - which he probably had. I settled back in my seat to listen; maybe he'd surprise me with some hidden gem of knowledge of ray optics I didn't already know from the book.

At last, we were done. School had been a little rough today, more than a little weird. Especially when Sam had me sniff around the gym, as if I were a dog.

At least she was circumspect about it; just the memory was shocking... because apparently I was at least part dog after all; I'd been smelling people. Well, not really people, but guys. Not that guys weren't people, but... yeah, let's just bury that thought.

Anyway, Sam had somehow noticed the smell I was smelling was guy, or more specifically, sweaty guy. Now why that smelled in any way interesting or good to me? No idea. I had the feeling I shouldn't ask, for my sanity; stupid body. I also had a feeling that Sam would tell me later; we'd been interrupted before by the bell.

It was even worse of course, because we had been interrupted and Sam had promised to tell me what it meant later. As if I actually wanted to know.

It was over though, we were going home, and my grades remained high. So high I could probably miss a week and still not lose my grade point average. I wasn't stupid enough to think my grade point average meant something, not anymore, but it was something that would make the parents happy, so it was something.

I had to drop my stuff off, and get my ball, so we were all walking home. Jeanette was carrying my stuff like usual, but I still felt fine. I'd avoided most of my own power, my own brain trying to screw me over, and I was feeling pretty good about that.

Jill would get her day, or rather night, but I wanted to play a few rounds of twenty-one first. Hopefully she would understand; she probably would, she didn't seem to be in any kind of hurry - which was not at all like Jeanette or Crash.

Whatever, it would work out. Even if Jill got angry over the delay, she likely wouldn't go all terminator on me or anyone else. We would have a chance to talk it out. It wasn't like a few rounds would take more than an hour, even if we all played.

The walk was uneventful, my two shadows making messing with me a really stupid idea even if people wanted to; who would want to mess with the CIA and the MCO, probably at once? The MCO even had robots! Crude things that barely worked, but still, they did work. Even if the designs offended me.

Even if they were nothing compared to what I could build.

No, better stay away from that; even just looking at the pictures had brought up some nastiness in that area. I didn't dare try the videos of them in action, or I'd be making a better version inside of a day. Which I could make a better one in a day, those things were junk.

Either way, I doubt they would send those robots to my defense, unless mutants attacked me for whatever reason. There was no reason for any mutant to attack me, since I wasn't donning spandex and rushing around trying to stop any crimes they might be doing.

I mean Jill could net me some attention, but she'd be a cop, so if anything she should bring attention to the police force themselves, who would be using her and have all the infrastructure for.

Maybe I should just put my name down as 'a concerned citizen' for all the official documents regarding Jill. I really should have thought of this before - and it had been percolating in the back of my mind, but it had been pushed out by the thought of building something else, of solving a problem through science and technology. Of making better than I had before.

Even more than my power induced fits, I needed to watch that. What was someone my age, with my experience, doing? Thinking that I could solve all problems by making something or someone to punch people was no better than donning the spandex myself, when you got right down to it. I was never so happy as now that my jet wasn't armed.

There were weapons I could put on it. Weapons of my design, ready to be printed off at my convenience. They were even good, and should therefore never see the light of day.

Jeanette turned, walking backwards again. When had she gotten in front of me? It was clear she knew at least some of what I was thinking. "I'm fine. Nothing to see here."

Jeanette raised a single eyebrow artfully (the left one this time, she usually favored the right) and turned around again.
We were in the yard now, my front door only a few steps away. My friends were still behind me, chatting away, so my feet on automatic had been fast enough.

"You may stay out here," Jeanette told us all: "I shall retrieve your ball."

"Get enough water for us, too, if you can. Or gatorade, that works too." There was very little gatorade couldn't fix, and I'd die on that hill.

"Of course Mistress," Jeanette replied.

Using my key, my android maid disappeared into our house. I could hear the thuds and clumps within as she began to move around.

"So, who is up for some twenty-one? Some horse?"

"I'm in," Ricky immediately replied.

"I'm in," Ralph responded right after.

"Totally in," Maggie said, even going to far as to raise her hand, as if we were still in class.

"In," Sam said at last, with a small smile.

Jeanette would play of course, so that gave us five. Ian would probably take the chance to be alone at home for a bit.

"Excellent." I was really looking forward to this, and I still felt fine.

Jeanette came back out, my ball in her hands and a bag on her shoulder. I could see drinks and wrapped snacks piled within. She pulled the door shut behind her.

I trusted her to do her job. "Thanks. Was Jeeves in?"

Jeanette shook her head. "He was not. He is on his route home, and shall meet us at the park in all likelihood."

Right, he was getting a drone. He must have had to walk or use my bike. Maybe I should get licenses for the androids, so they could drive cars? I could buy a second hand car and fix it up.

"Right, let's go."

They didn't really need my prompting, but we all set off.

My shadows took a moment, almost as if surprised, then followed. Of course they might be surprised; I didn't really go out much anymore. I should change that. Even just taking walks or something, until it got too cold.

It was just so hard to deal with both doing stuff and building stuff. The doing felt like such a waste of time when I could be building actual wonders.

That was the wrong way to think, I knew that. But it was hard to deal with in the moment. My thoughts kept coming around to it though, like a hamster on a wheel, continually second guessing itself.

The walk was nice at least, the afternoon sun a pleasant warmth on skin, the heat sinking into my coat. It was still bright enough to squint, my glasses reflecting some of it at wild angles. I could do the math and determine exactly where, so I did, as a mental exercise. It was a way to pass the time after all, and I didn't really have anything to say.

No one else seemed to have anything to say either, we passed the time tromping along in silence.

The park was not empty. That was to be expected. The basketball court at the park was not empty, and that was very unexpected. Monty, Joe,

Brad and Lyle were on the court, playing two on two. Why were basketball team members here when they could just play at the gym with no problem?

Whatever, the park was public. However, what was an issue is that they were using the entire court, which meant no one else could.
This broke every code! even if you were alone, you were only supposed to take up half the court, in case someone else wanted to play.

Whatever, they would just have to switch, because we were here now.

"The right side," I called. The right side of the old court was the worst side. It had a slightly bent rim that sagged down a little. It was only right the others keep the side with the good rim since they were basically practicing, or at the very least playing seriously.

Ricky knew what I meant and beelined right to the bench set next to the right side of the court, which would be our base camp while here. That would be where the drinks and snacks went, anyway.

Jeanette took her own cue, and altered her own course.

"What are you doing?"
I looked up at the shout to see Monty making his way toward us, the game they were playing stopped and the others drew themselves up behind him.

Monty was looking directly at me, but Ricky took it upon himself to answer... and it was not the best answer to give: "Playing. You know the rules. You got the left side, we get the right."

"Why?" Monty turned to Ricky and cocked his head in an obvious bait. "You're the only one here on the team. I'm seeing volleyball players and kids who sit down for gym. Yet here you guys are going to play?"

Ricky jumped back up and started marching. No good could come of this. "Don't be an ass, Monty. Not everyone can be in the NBA, and it's a park. We just want to shoot the ball some, then leave. Even if we didn't, you know the rules, and if you try and gate-keep everyone's going to hear about it."

Again, Monty looked at me, a piercing glare. It was enough to stop me in my tracks for a moment; when had I pissed in his cheerios?

Whatever, I kicked myself into gear; I'd be backing Ricky whatever happened.

Ralph beat me to it, stepping up almost shoulder to shoulder with my best friend, and right in front of me. "Monty, just go back to your game. We don't want any trouble... and neither do you."

Holy crap, could they get any more confrontational?

Maggie clapping her hands sharply pulled everyone's attention : "Boys, boys, you're all pretty! The fact is this."

She waited a beat and then pointed at Monty and his friends... my former friends. "You are in a public park, and can easily stop hogging the one court we have. It doesn't matter what we do, or why we do it, we have a right to be here. Us being here should not and won't bother you at all, if you just go mind your own business. If you want, we can call the Sheriff and ask his opinion."

Wow, that was... an escalation. A little too much, for sure.

"Whatever," Monty backed down. "Just don't stray into our side."

As if he'd do anything, if any of us did. Jeanette had been suspiciously quiet, but I knew she was paying attention; I could feel her focus from right behind me.

She had a pleasant smile plastered on her face when I turned around, however, her hands crossed in front of her and in plain view.

Sam was behind Jeanette, and gave me a thumbs up; Jeanette hadn't done anything weird.

"We won't, you're safe." Ricky's sarcasm could be heard by everyone, and Monty bristled, but let it go.

Ricky turned around, all smiles as the other went back to their game. "Alright, so who wants to play?"

"We all will," Maggie said. "Sam and I both want to play, I know you want to play, and of course Min wants to play. Jeanette might as well, and that just leaves Ralph."

We all looked to Ralph. "Yeah, I'm playing," he admitted. "Of course I am."

Good enough for me. "So who goes first?"

Usually it was just two or three of us, and we'd rock paper scissors for it. When had I gotten so popular? Had I gotten popular? As a, dare I say, nerd? This was weird, and in no way what all those late night quirky eighties movies had prepared me for.

Ricky had an answer: "We don't need to overthink it; we can just line up. I'll be first, and everyone else can get behind me."

Right, we wouldn't be fighting or jockeying for position; we were all friends. I lined up behind Ricky, with a good amount of personal space between us, and the others did the same. We'd take turns shooting, and the person who shot would get the ball, hand it over, and then go to the back of the line. We'd also start in 3 point land, and maybe we would get closer as time wore on, just for giggles.

I missed my first shot, of course, but that was to be expected since I was out of practice. With no real hurry, I walked the ball down. It had bounced off the bent rim, which meant I'd thrown it too low.

Ricky had made his shot of course, and he would likely win any challenge here unless someone put a hand in his face. What was surprising was that Maggie and Sam both made theirs.

Jeanette did not; her form was terrible. She had clearly paid attention to our technique, but her shot was feet wide and a good half a foot short. She had better range finding than that, surely?

Whatever, I was in no shape to judge.

Ricky made his next shot and passed the ball to me. This time, I swished it, proving my adjustments were correct. I always liked doing that since it meant I didn't have to chase the ball down, but for today, I could probably use the extra steps.

Whatever, it was a nice day, I'd take things as they came; it had been working so far.

Maggie missed, and Sam made her next shot. Ralph hadn't made either of his.

Like me, Jeanette made her second shot, and sprinted over to collect the ball.

"You know it's your coat, right?" Ricky asked. "Your coat is dragging on you."

None of my friends had coats on, Sam had a sweatshirt, and that was as close to dressing warmly as anyone here had.

"I know." How could I not? "But believe it or not, it's cold to me."

I was warm in the lab coat, but when I'd taken it off during lunch, I'd quickly gotten cold. It was warmer now, of course. Yet I didn't feel hot at all.
I wondered if my hair was. No, it didn't matter.

No one else was wearing a coat either, not the couple walking down the street, nor Monty and his friends, or even the little kids over there on the swings. Just another thing that I couldn't really help that made me stand out; it was whatever. Another whatever among many.

It wasn't about winning anyway. Today wasn't about competing or winning; it was about getting out in the sunlight and moving, even if I came in last. Which was possible, since I missed my next shot off the rim again; this time it was the far side that got me. A little too much force.

Or the angle was two point three degrees too shallow, and I should rainbow it more. That would also work.

Shooting rainbows was a risky business, as the ball traveled a longer distance at slower speeds. Made it easier to block; but this was twenty-one, so there wouldn't be anyone blocking my shots.

Jeanette seemed to figure it out too; she made her next shot.

Ricky was still in the lead, but that was to be expected. This round, we all made our shots, and Ricky moved us to the left of center, still on the three point line. That was fine; I was dialed in now.

Ricky was less than impressed by my swish. "Rainbows? Really?"

I gave him my best aw shucks shrug. "It's not a game. I don't have to impress anybody."

Even though I heard snickering from the other side of the court seemed to suggest otherwise. It was fine - I wasn't a player anymore.

We finished our game, and I looked around. Monty and his crew were playing another one, but I caught a few of them looking our way while their own game was ongoing; the distraction even cost Monty a point.

Why was he looking at me? I didn't know what that expression meant. Maybe my traitor eyes weren't showing me all of it? That was possible; I could probably be declared legally blind without my glasses.

Monty turned away quickly, and retrieved his own ball from where it had bounced away.

Jeanette raised an eyebrow when I looked over; which I took to mean Monty had been watching us a lot.

Sam was next to Jeanette, and she was looking over there too, not even trying to disguise it, and as openly hostile as I'd ever seen her. Maybe she didn't like being laughed at? As if they were laughing at her; she was an athletic at least. She'd played soccer in elementary until the team was cut for budget concerns and a lack of players.

There had been protests, of course, but the school board claimed there just wasn't enough interest for the high school team, and that had been that. More money for the football program, probably. Not that I cared. Sam would probably make a decent basketball player, though. If she wanted. Maybe I'd get personal and ask her why she didn't play any sports anymore; the worst she could do is just tell me it was none of mine, right? Right.

We finished up and moved again, to the other side. I missed the next two shots I tried, putting me at the bottom of our pack.
Even worse, all I was doing was walking around and shooting a ball, and I could already feel a bit of strain there. As if I had run laps then done an entire drill in practice... I was fading a bit too fast, and for no reason at all. I hadn't even been too thinky today!

I would play another game. Another round, despite myself.

Ricky didn't took us in to the free throw line, and I made the rest of my shots. I didn't lose, that honor went to Maggie of all people, with Sam and I tying in the next spot. Ralph took the next, and Jeanette made good, taking second. Ricky was of course, at first and that was no surprise to anyone.

"Alright, next game?"

"You bet!" A round of affirmatives followed my own. It looked like no one could tell that my stupid body could already use a breather - except Jeanette of course, who wasn't telling.

She was giving me the side-eye though. I gave her a little wave and smile in return. It was okay, ok?

This time, we started at the free throw line, and that was easy enough. The game went a bit faster now, as Ricky set the pace, running after the ball on his turn after he made the shot and winging a solid no look pass at Ralph.

I wanted to be in on that action. I also wanted to know why Ricky had aimed at Ralph and not me; I was next, after all. Whatever.
Ralph passed the ball to me, and I made my shot. Then I moved, like I would have in the olden golden days, and got the ball before the second bounce. Not entirely like the olden days since I was certainly slower, but I banked a pass at the line and it went where I'd wanted it to go. A solid win in my book.

Then I got out of the way; standing under the rim was a good way to get hit.

Everyone else got into the action too, making it seem more like a drill from a fresh basketball team than a simple game; soon, we were one-upping each other with bounce passes and no-look shots, just to be goofy.

Then the bounce shots started coming in; led by Sam, of all people.

There was no way I was going to hit a bounce shot... but if Sam was trying it, if Maggie was trying it, if even Ricky was trying it (and hitting it, the lucky jerk) then I was going to try it.

I didn't even come close to getting the right height, even if the shot looked good otherwise.

I heard more snickering from the other side; they must be watching again.

Then I heard something that surprised me; a muted "Shut up!" from no less than Monty himself. I glanced back to see the four, heads together, whispering angrily at each other - or rather Monty angrily whispering to the other three.

Whatever; Ricky could get to the bottom of it later if I - if we - still cared.

Thanks to all the messing around, the score was meaningless and soon forgotten, even If I'd kept some track. I'd been in the middle of the pack that time, because I had try -harded just enough to not make me look bad. Try-harded wasn't a word of course, but it should be.
Either way, as I sank my last shot, I was done and I knew it; the bench and some of that water were both calling my name. I broke out of line and headed for them, and while I was watched, no one called me out on it.

I still felt alright, just tired, and I should probably be able to do more with a little breather.

It was stupid anyway. I shouldn't be getting tired just from this, even in the mildest sense. I mean, I hadn't even done anything but walk around, for crying out loud!

My big stupid yet not-stupid brain at work, no doubt. I should go see a doctor and get a more official explanation of what was going on, but did a specialist in such unusual conditions like mine even exist? Something to look into; something I hadn't looked into just yet because I'd been busy just building things like a big smart idiot.

"Hey."

I looked up to find Ricky approaching... the others were still shooting and chatting among themselves, even Jeanette. That meant I couldn't be too bad off.

It was worth the worry, seeing everyone having fun like this. Why they were orbiting me like little planets around a star, I didn't know... but they were happy with it, and that was enough.

"Hey."

"How do you feel?" Ricky asked. I could see the concern he was masking; he was hiding it well enough, but I'd known him for way too long to be fooled.

"I'm fine. Just needed a little break. Water?" I dug a bottle of still chilled bottle of purified water from the goodie bag for him.

He took it gratefully, then sat down beside me. "Thanks, so... are we done here?"

I thought about it a minute. "Nah, I'll be good to go in another five or so. You guys can just play a bit without me until then."

I just didn't get it; there was nothing really wrong with my muscles other than the obvious of not enough mass. Nothing wrong with my cells either... so why did I have so little stamina? I should be able to do this sort of thing all day.

Ricky sounded doubtful: "Alright, if you're sure."

I did feel better already; the water and downtime was helping. "I'm sure. Go sink some shots. Give Monty a reason to be jealous."

That earned a snort: "Too easy, but sure."

He handed the bottle back - half empty of course - and I set it aside so that we'd all know whose bottle it was. Even if Ricky was likely fine, no one wanted to share water bottles if they didn't have to. I'd been told before that sort of thing was normal in my parent's day, but in current year we knew better.

True to his word, Ricky got a little serious, the balls started dropping in.

As for me, I drained my water and then waited. When the ball bounced my way I lunged up, snagged it (the ball almost slipped out of my tiny hand before I could collect it) took two steps, and shot a three. Missed, of course, but I'd been reasonably close. Just a hair too strong this time,

I'd missed half the game, but I'd make up for it this time. Every time the ball was passed to me, I'd be trying a drill with it. Either a long distance shot or a layup. I couldn't jump too high anymore, but I could compensate.

Just like before, everyone else went right into it, running their own drills on their turns. Sam was going right to driving the ball, almost looking like a pro, while Maggie drove the ball then hesitated before trying to sink it from wherever she ended up, a rookie mistake.
Jeanette and Ralph stayed the course with threes, but they did move a little beforehand. Ricky's next shot was a full drive, which he made.
The ball came to me, and I drove it to the other side of the line, mimicking an imaginary defender and turning around for a beautiful fade-away three that would have got nothing but net... if there had been a net.

"Nice one," Ricky complimented. Then he ruined it. "Still a little rainbow in there, though."

Yes, Coach would not approve. Coach could just suffer, however. "Thanks... I think."

Sam walked up to Ricky and punched him in the arm. Ricky winced and rubbed it. "Ow, damn, what are you...."

Too late for that; she'd already walked off again to collect the ball. It wasn't even her turn.

Ralph didn't object as she drove the ball, however, just picked it out of the air after she missed.

I had a slightly more pressing concern: "Has anyone been keeping score?"

Everyone turned to me with blank looks. Even Jeanette, who should be good for that sort of thing. "Right. Are you all done? What say we get out of here?"

Wait, I kinda wanted to do another thing. "What say we get out of here after some swings?"

Sam brightened instantly: "Swings!"

Maggie was already moving to the swing sets. Moving towards the far left one, which was of course the best one, all of us knew that. There was no way I'd catch her now unless I sprinted full out, and I wasn't going to do that.

Jeanette stepped close: "Jeeves has informed me that he has returned, with four different commercial drones. He means for you to decide which is best and then modify it further according to any desires you may have."

Four?!? That was... well, it was a lot of money, but I had it now. "That's fine. We should be back soon. More importantly, have you ever used a swing set, Jeanette?"

I had to ask, she might have touched one when I was asleep or something, even if it was unlikely.

Jeanette's eyes got that blank look that Jeeves sometimes got, for just a second. Then she answered: "No Mistress, I have not. Is there some special way of approaching the apparatus?"

Apparatus, huh? "No, you just sit down in the seat, hold on with your hands, and shove yourself backward with your feet. If you need to, watch me."

Jeanette would have to watch from a bit further over; Sam ended up picking the seat next to the one I was heading for. That left two seats left on this set, and Jeanette picked the one to the other side of Sam.

I showed her what I meant anyway, and she watched both Sam and I push off. "Just use a little force."

My android tried as I flew back; I watched her push a little... and go halfway up. I could even feel it through the connection, that thrumming vibration you sometimes got when people were trying entirely too hard.

At least she didn't go all the way around; I'd done that once as a kid, and the outcome hadn't been very safe. Fun, though. Honestly, it was a wonder any kid survived to adulthood, if my past was to be judged by.

Still, Jeanette calculated the amount of force used, and her next push was more gentle.

I could see the smile, a small genuine thing as the wind caught her hair and she balanced worked on her balance; she was a fast learner.

Sam was smiling too and clearly competing, trying to get higher than Jeanette was, even if Jeanette had no idea.

Oh no, wait, it was clear that Jeanette had at least some idea because her third pass wasn't an 'I'm going to take it easy' pass. It was clearly an 'oh yeah?' pass.

I would just sit this one out. Watching my android and all my friends compete to see who could go the highest without flipping themselves was the kind of train wreck that should be watched from the sidelines for best results.

I should probably stop them, but I was their friend, not their parent. If Ricky broke an arm again, that was his problem.
Come to think of it, why was I worrying? I could regenerate! Sure, it'd hurt, but out of all of us, I was the one able to recover from an accident the best.

Jeanette skidded herself to a sudden stop, and the thrum of the swing set, which was set in concrete, seemingly jumping in the ground, had me half out of the seat.

"We should go."

Jeanette sounded calm, but as serious as I'd ever heard her.

I asked the question before I could properly think about it and stop myself: "Why?"

"I do not recognize that vehicle," Jeanette answered. I only just managed to stop myself from looking, my reading on the more shady side of things coming in clutch. Not that it really mattered if Jeanette was staring at it....

"What vehicle?" Maggie asked, looking around herself. I resisted the urge to facepalm.

"The old white van with an advertisement for "Manny's home construction" painted upon the sides. There is no business named 'Manny's home construction' in the local area, the nearest is nine hundred and seventy-two miles away."

That did seem an awfully long distance to make a house call.

"How can you be so sure?" Ralph asked.

I already knew that answer, of course. "Internet searches. Most businesses that exist have an internet presence, even if it is only a map location and a few ratings from customers."

I still couldn't see the van; that white blob might be it; it probably was, but my eyes were trash, and it was over a block away.

"Fine, fun and games called on account of paranoia. I was feeling like some video games anyway."

Right, Ricky just wanted to crush us. You'd think he'd get tired of it... then again, probably not.

"Alright, close ranks. Let's make sure they can't even see a hair on our veeps head!" Maggie worried me sometimes.

Monty and his crew had reclaimed the entire court again; they stopped as we went through them on our way to get our goodies. At least the goodies were untouched, as best as I could tell. They weren't stolen at any rate.

Jeanette gave me a look and a slight head shake as she collected the bag. So she'd been keeping track, probably, and I was worrying over nothing. I handed Ricky his open water while the others swarmed my maid for the rest of the water she'd packed.

So the others did get tired and thirsty... it just took longer.

We had to walk by the van on our way home, so I would get a good look even if I didn't want to.

"So, what's the plan once we get to your house?" Maggie asked, with no sense of tact.

Now was not the time to answer such a sensitive question. At least not seriously. Luckily I had a backup thing to do: "Well, I'm going to look at those drones Jeeves bought, and see what they are capable of. I'll charge them all up, and we can take turns flying them around."

"Sounds fun," Sam opined with a nod. Her smile looked a little fake to me, and that was fine. She hadn't forgotten that today was supposed to be Jill's birthday.

The van looked like any other, which was probably the point, and seemed to have no one in it. At least that I could see. That really meant nothing, though, since you couldn't see the back from this angle; we'd have to stare into the front, where anyone who was in there would see us too. We were close, but I wasn't risking getting close enough for one of us to get grabbed.

The other tails, the ones we knew, were still following too, so it probably wasn't a big deal. The CIA at least would be on the ball here... wouldn't they?

It didn't matter yet, but it was another reason to get possible drone coverage in the air.

The body wasn't done. The check still needed to finish; it had returned some odd readings with the left arm. Even though it appeared to move just fine, Jill's soon-to-be arm had popped some error messages in the software. I needed to know if it was just the diagnostic software or if there was actually something wrong.

The arm itself moved fine when I flexed it, and providing power and isolated move commands to the part also worked just fine.
I decided to wait for the diagnostic to run its course, as trying to open up the code of a program while it was working was a stupid idea. That way lay only bad things.

My friends were hanging out, of course. They weren't playing the fighting game this time... instead, they were taking turns on the new racer that Ricky had snuck in with him.

There was coffee and snacks to be had, but I had none of it. My own cup was cold. Now that I had resolved to wait, it might be time for another.
Before I could get up, Jeanette snagged my cup and replaced it with another, this one full of steaming coffee.

"Thanks."

"You are welcome. Is there a problem?"

"Just a glitch in the software. The left arm is either malfunctioning, or the diagnostic software is. I might have to run it twice."

"I see. Good luck in finding the answer."

Very helpful, Jeanette. It had to be something in the hardware, but what? What could cause it to work when given commands, and then not work when given commands through the software as a whole?

Whatever, I set another diagnostic to run on the software itself, both in piece and the whole. Then I set another diagnostic program to run on the diagnostic program I'd been using; for all I knew, it could be that giving me false positives. I had written the thing myself in something like three days, after all, and anytime you rush a job that complex, you're going to get errors.

Well, probably. I mean it had worked a few times before just fine, so....

I typed the bad news out to Jill, and she responded in the positive, that she'd wait until everything was ready. As if she had a choice in that; still, it made me feel bad, but the programs would likely figure out the problem faster than I could... so now it was drone time.

At least that was my story, and I was sticking to it.

"I'll keep at it," Crash informed me.

"If you want to. I'm going to switch focus; I think we need some eyes in the sky. For reasons.

"I saw," Crash answered. "Just remember, anything you build, I can fly."

I hadn't forgotten. I wanted to myself. "Of course, but I'll probably write a script for them, eventually. If they can fly themselves, it would free at least a few of us up for other things."

I'd need to make some privacy protocols, which would need at least a basic A.I., some anti-collision things, but many of those scripts were commercial now, and most on the internet, so it wouldn't take me long to repurpose them... heck, some of these drone models before me likely already had something like that.

I unboxed the first one, and that garnered some attention.

"Finally, time for the good stuff?" Ricky asked as he sidled up.

"I'll be sure to tell Jill how you feel about her technical issues and how important those are," So I might be a little bitter. Her arm glitching out made no sense!

"Oh come on, you know I didn't mean it that way. I'm just looking forward to seeing what you're going to do with a couple thousand dollars worth of these."

I drew myself up. "I am in no way going to steal or plagiarize design and software ideas from them whatsoever. Any words you might have heard, or will hear to the contrary, are all foul lies and slander."

On the design front I was in the clear, since everyone had stolen the same few basic ideas from each other already, so how could anyone sue me? I'd have to be a little more careful with proprietary motor or battery tech, but that wasn't my weakness here anyway, and really all I was doing was cutting a few corners to save me a week or two while gathering data.

"Can you plug this in to charge?"

Ricky took it and passed Maggie as she wandered over: "No new girl in the sisterhood?"

I was already tired of the question, but I'd soldier on. "No, something wrong with her arm. I could print a new one, but I'd rather just find out what the issue is."

I wasn't about to throw Jill in a body that wasn't working perfectly. For all I knew, it could have been the reinforcement and differing materials - my older bots were made of basic metals and plastics, pretty easy stuff to deal with. Jill, being a cop, needed to be more sturdy, so she was made of alloys. Those alloys may have more drastic performance variation than the basic stuff.

The simulations hadn't indicated anything of the sort, but there was a reason field tests existed.

No, enough thinking about it; I'd know soon enough where I'd screwed up. The drone I'd picked first was over a grand, according to the box, and had a complete book rather than just a pamphlet. A lot going on - it could recall itself when it got out of range! You could click a button and it would reverse the commands you'd given it! Which was the same thing, when you thought about it, but still kinda cool.

How that happened without functional artificial intelligence was something I'd need to look into. There wasn't even a smart system in it; it was just hard-coded commands linked to buttons!

So weird. I'd be improving it eventually.

I plugged it in to charge. The control was an actual controller, complete with a screen; some of the cheaper ones were just software you put on a phone. Which, you know, I could deal with just fine, but I liked the idea of having an actual controller. Hm, memory was enough for maybe fifteen minutes of recording. much more if I just had it take pictures, but I wouldn't be doing that; it was video or nothing.

The controller used actual batteries. They were included of course, as they should be for what I'd paid, but it was still a little silly; even if I kept this model, I'd be upgrading that later.

Now I had to wait, but while I was waiting, I could go ahead and open another drone.

My friends were gathering around; I could put them to work too. "Go ahead and open one if you want. It'll take some time for this one to charge.

I plan to go through them all anyway."

I grabbed the next one, and Sam wasted no time: "Cute."

I looked over to find she'd claimed the smallest one, a cheap looking thing that would probably break the moment it hit something or even dropped a few feet. I guess it did look cute, in a way.

Ricky and Ralph both made a grab for the next one on the pile I'd been working from; a large beast cast in white that looked like it'd be hard to spot against the sky. They both nodded to each other and moved off together, looking for more table space.

It was good to see they could get along about some things.

Speaking of, Maggie also moved off, crowding Sam and already chattering away about something, a little too fast for me to follow. Something involving photographs?

Jeanette walking up and snagging one was a surprise: "I shall help you."

Well, she didn't need a phone to control that one at least. "Sure, if you want."

Jeeves stayed firmly behind me, quietly looming in a rather comforting way.

I could only read, really, while the batteries charged. It was slightly amusing to shoot glances at my friends to see how they were handling that idea. Sam was reading like I was, as was Ralph, but Maggie and Ricky both looked to be rapidly getting bored, just checking out the cables, cords, and machines themselves.

Crash was looking over Jill's body again, trying to spot flaws. For the third time.

Was there a reason to drag him off for some scans? Some of these were undoubtedly flawed.

Could we learn more from the flaws than the time and expense saved? Probably.

The last box was here; I could start with that. It was the cheapest one Jeeves had bought. No, that was my own impatience talking. We could always scan later, and Crash might actually discover something I'd missed. I could do that much for Jill, even if I wasn't there and checking myself.

Put that way, it made me sound like an absentee mom.

Still, the waiting was an issue; my laptop was free. I could get some more work done on the other projects I was working on. Maybe go over the armor itself again since it was in no way finalized.

The alloy steel mesh would be strong and breathe, but it needed a gel layer to avoid the pilot getting hurt or dying in flight, and the gel layer couldn't be too deep. Certainly no deeper than an inch. There were some options I had for that, I could see the atom chains in my head, but I'd need to either sim them like crazy or make samples to determine the best kind.

Contrary to the whole super suit idea most people had, you couldn't just allow your limbs free movement, especially your legs... they would swing some way or another and just throw you completely off in a way that no assist or even artificial intelligence could compensate and kill you, even at a slow speed.

The easiest solution was, of course, to lock the legs down while in flight and assume an upright stance, even if it wasnt quite as aerodynamic as I'd like. Some fins would help, and the wings wouldn't need to be large. If I used wings at all. They would help with speed and stability....

"Mistress."

Huh? "What?"

"Your batteries have charged. I thought you might..."

"Ah, right. Thank you, Jeeves." I'd clearly lost it for a bit there. However, thinking back, I could clearly follow my thoughts and logic, such as it was, and follow the changes I'd made to the design I'd been working on... which was a different series than the one I'd started with.

I hadn't gotten too far afield then, at least in one way.

"What's that, a power armor suit? Doesn't look like the one you're working on...?"

Ricky was doing his best to read the laptop screen. Whatever, I had nothing to hide.

"Why is it so large? Looks like a box with a helmet on top."

....Or maybe I did. "It has to be that large since I'm trading aerodynamics as heavily as I am; it needs an over-abundance of power if I want it to fly."

It still wouldn't fly too high or fast, barely two hundred miles per hour if everything else went according to spec, but that wasn't terrible. The armor also had another function, another mode, because why shouldn't it?

I wasn't about to show that one off just yet. No sense opening myself up to all the squealing and noise as everyone went nuts over certain prospects. The thing would be expensive to make if I didn't have my printer, but with it, I could make one of these for everyone. Eventually. If I needed to.

I shouldn't, but such things would keep my friends and family safe, safer than just a bunch of watchers and cameras could make us. That was a good thing, right? It outweighed the idea of giving a bunch of us potentially lethal weapons, without even counting the armaments I'd be making for the suits... right?

No, I shouldn't. I could design all I wanted, but actually making the things crossed a line. A line I didn't want to cross. Not unless something happened; there would be time enough to complete a build then. Until then, Jill and her suit would be enough, surely.

I mean, it might not even happen, whatever it was. For all I knew, the people watching us would be enough, even in this chaotic world.

I found myself shoving the chair away from me, jumping up, and making Ricky jump back: "Right, time to test the first one."

"Right, let's go!" Ricky didn't even seem phased by his near miss, just ready to go.

By the time I'd taken two steps, everyone was gathering around, crowding me. "You all can go first, you know."

Jeeves already had the drone itself in hand, unplugged and ready to go. The controller for it was also done and on the table, and no one had snagged it first. Nice of them, really, they were giving me the maiden flight.

I snagged the thing and joined everyone, already outside somehow as if they'd ran out or teleported or something.

Just outside, Jeeves was already placing the drone down in the middle of the yard. Everyone else fanned out, keeping well away from it, which was for the best. I was going to stay near the open shed door just in case, so I couldn't really blame them.

I powered the controller up and noted the display. I'd use the auto stabilization feature provided.

It took off, straight up, and then just drifted off to the left without any input from me. I tapped the stick to bring it back, but then it drifted right...

Right, I was going to hit something unless I took it up higher.

Taking it higher was a mistake. I couldn't see it anymore, and all I had to go on now was the wildly shaking camera, which was showing how screwed I was in high definition; it was an amazing view of the neighborhood, but the drone had to be a mile up!

I hit the hover button, and the thing evened out, even though the winds up there had to be significant.

"I know that look," Ricky claimed, stepping forward. "Where is it?"

"It's fine. I got it hovering above us."

Ricky leaned over to look as everyone else decided it was safe to join in: "Then why the look of sheer panic?"

"It was more powerful than I thought it would be. Look at how high up it is! I only pressed the stick for a second."

Ricky looked up. "Yeah, it's about 500 feet up? Maybe a bit more, kinda hard to tell."

Surely it was more than that? My eyes were trash, but not that trash. Right?

Who was I kidding? I had trouble seeing across the street, even with my stupid coke bottles on my face.

I could still fly this thing, of course, using the screen.

That turned out to be a mistake; forward had the thing moving more left and forward.

"Ah, the wind is North at that height. move your thumb about two degrees over. Yeah, right there, it'll compensate."

Crash knew what he was talking about; that slight shift and the drone was flying straight.

"What's the range?"

"About five miles. We can cover this entire town if we want; it's not that big."

"Does it have a warning light? Some way of indicating it's at maximum range or close?"

"It does. This little orange light here. It'll light up at five hundred yards away from the maximum control range.

I eased off because five hundred yards didn't sound like nearly enough space to stop.

The view was fantastic, and I hit hover again as everyone crowded around. It was time to pass the controller around so everyone could see it.

The assorted gasps and oohs and ahs were all worth it.

A little fun, but I was done with it now. This would be much better when I stuck a series of scripts in it, or maybe even a form of virtual assistant.

I'd simply be able to tell the drone where to go with either commands or maybe even voice? Sure.

Time to hand it off to Crash. "Alright, you guys can try yours now."

"Right, we better hurry, it's going to get dark."

There wasn't going to be any order this time - they were going to drive theirs all at once, it seemed.

Which was cool; it would be sheer chaos. Crashes wouldn't be a problem; I could scan broken drones as easily as any other; the computer would compensate.

Crash was focusing on piloting, but he gave me a smile anyway as everyone made their chosen drones take off together.

I'd been right; I shouldn't have come to school today. As soon as I had, Sam had took me aside, and now we were 'chatting'. I'd briefly wondered why we couldn't chat before this, since we'd walked to school, but her first sentence had clenched it.

The school was noisy after all, and with her whispering, there was no way even our friends would overhear us by chance from this little nook under the stairs. We could also see anyone coming close enough to hear us, which was just perfect to be told what I didn't want to hear.

"You're sure?"

"You can look."

Right, five minutes and google would confirm what Sam was telling me. Confirm that my stupid body seemed to like guys. Or at least, liked the smell of guys; it was apparently a biological imperative from the days when we lived in caves and huddled around fires. Just the thought of... snuggling? sidling up to? Someone like Ricky or Ralph... no, bad thoughts! Bad thoughts!

"I need to purge my mind with fire."

Sam gave me a deadpan look, then a small smile. "Chocolate."

Chocolate would probably help. Chocolate always seemed to help. Stupid body.

"Does everyone feel like this? Do you feel like this?"

Sam shook her head. Figures, I'd be the weird one. Again.

"Varies." Sam explained a bit louder, and wiggled her hand at me.

I wasn't ready to say anything out loud just yet. "So, it comes and goes? Or it's different for everyone."

"Yes. Hormones." Sam whispered at me. Then, of course, the bell rang, and we needed to get to class.

I was glad that Jeanette had stayed a few steps away and so probably hadn't heard anything. She fell in behind me as we stepped around the stairs, joining the throng. Sam waved as she left me to the tender mercies of the school, her smile seemingly fixed in place.

"Did you hear any of that?" Morbid curiosity compelled my voice.

Jeanette answered instantly. "Yes. I heard some of what you discussed, and can infer the meaning of the rest with the clues provided. However, you should not worry. I hold your privacy paramount in my thoughts, second only to your safety, as all good maids should."

Well, that was something. So only Jeanette and Sam knew. And all my other bots. And Maggie, who I'd come to asking about the smell as well, thinking maybe she might know. Maggie, who loved to gossip as much as anyone.

I was doomed.

No, I couldn't think that way; the entire school didn't know about Sam's favorite pajamas or what her guilty pleasure movie was, so there was a chance they wouldn't find out my secret shame. Still, if this was a problem for me, even if I was unusual, then surely other girls had this issue? How did they deal with it? Just ignore it? Was it a hormone thing or a scent thing? If it was hormones, it would be easier to formulate a blocker for it; I didn't really want to shut off my nose just to make it stop.

"Mistress."

Right, shop thinking was later, school was now. It was okay; I could deal with this.

I'd be talking more with Sam; how could she just dump this on me right at the start of the school day?!? It was criminal, was what it was. And after I let her crash my drone all last night!

True, Ricky had done most of the crashing, but Sam had gotten her licks in; that little one was never going to be the same... at least until I rebuilt it. Right, later.

I slipped into the classroom and tried very hard not to smell anything - or anyone. Nope, no smells here, thank you traitorous nose. Just the smell of paper and glue and wood from somewhere. Pencil shavings? A broken desk? It didn't matter; the smell didn't exist. None of them did.
Mr. Welsh walked in right after I got through the door, and I ducked into my seat. Jeanette took her usual spot in the back of the class and started in on her statue impression.

Ricky leaned over. "You okay? You look a little... I don't know, off."

I pointed back at my maid, the perfect excuse: "She isn't moving, so I must be fine."

Ralph was also giving me a once-over. He caught me looking and shrugged.

Nice to know my electrical activity was normal.

Mr. Welsh gave us all a stare, and we shut up so he could take roll call.

When he put his class book down, I opened my notebook. It should be okay if I was careful; I'd been getting better about this. I didn't need notes in this class anymore, and I'd be driving myself more crazy than normal today if I didn't at least design something.

So I'd redesign the drone that Sam had smashed into our tree last night. Preferably into something with better lights. The normal running lights were fine to see it by, but they were woeful at giving enough visibility to fly at night through the camera.

Maybe I could expand the case a bit? I could add something better than a simple light if I did. After all, even a rudimentary sonar would be more effective than the best lighting I could power inside the frame. then again, the draw from sonar might be too much too....

Right, just focus on the simple stuff for now. the physics of flight and the fuselage would be fine to speculate about and wouldn't mess me up for the day. I could control this.

Still, the sonar did haunt me a little. A sketch of a basic one shouldn't be too hard, and after that, I could just fine tune the size versus the range later. More of a proof of concept, really, nothing special at all.

Mr. Welsh stopped writing, and stopped droning. tuning him out was getting far too easy; even if he didn't care anymore about it. Class was nearly over, and everyone was packing up. I'd come close, but I hadn't lost it. Another to add to my growing list of wins, and I'd take it.

Algebra was next, and it was a bit better. Mainly because I could go ahead and go as far ahead as I wanted. Right now I was well past the basics, and the textbook. I wish the teachers would just break down and let me use my laptop or phone in class to study with; I'd already be on advanced trigonometry or something. Something collegiate level or past, but still something was better than nothing. Maybe I could calculate the distances of the planets for a lark.

Crap, I already did it in my head. Well, maybe I could do something else equally mundane. I'm sure with enough distance involved, I'd actually have to use paper to write it out.

Jeanette moved from behind me to the front, just in time to intercept a student even more distracted than I was. She was a blonde, a bit larger than I was, dressed in faded jeans and a pink sweater. I knew her, vaguely, mainly from the faint freckles dotting her nose; Cynthia. Cynthia... something. Something with an H.

She bounced off Jeanette with an eep, and almost lost the books she had clutched tightly in front of her. Jeanette reached out to steady her, and any potential crisis was averted.

As small as she was, Cynthia was bigger than me now; if we had collided with us both distracted, she'd have bowled me over easily.
Still, she got herself together and actually bowed slightly: "Sorry. I wasn't looking where I was going."

No, she wasn't bowing; she was hunching in. Presenting a smaller target. "It's fine, neither was I. Sorry about my part in this."

I moved around her, taking advantage of the crowd; they always moved away from a potential fight. Well, those that didn't actually crowd closer to see it. Sorry people, no fight today.

I ducked into class and Jeanette was right on my heels, her good deed for the day done. Sam was giving me a forlorn look, so I tapped Jeanette and pointed. She nodded and walked over, delivering my notebook. My notes were pretty well written if I did say so myself, and could undoubtedly help those less fortunate than myself.

Sam wasted no time opening it and finding the page she wanted - seemed her homework wasn't done? For shame! Well, whatever. She should have just asked me for help last night; too much time spent piloting drones, not that I could blame her.

Flying things was fun; even more so in person. I really needed to get an actual pilot's license; I was allowed to cheat a bit because of my mutation, at least the once. I couldn't expect that would hold forever.

Trying to play by the rules felt like it just kept getting harder. It probably wasn't, but telling myself no was... unpleasant.

Right now, the distance from Earth to Alpha Centauri was a bit of twenty-five trillion miles. I couldn't be absolutely certain since it changed by the second, but that was close enough. Four point six-seven light years - or one hundred and forty-eight years to reach with standard propulsion systems. Some of the ones I knew were out there could cut that to forty years, potentially.

I was pretty sure I could cut it to five right now.

Ricky was giving me a look. Not the look, but a warning look. He was much easier to read than Sam was. Even though right now, Sam was anything but hard to read.

No weird scents. It was a bit weird that while my eyes were trash, my nose seemed to be pretty sensitive - at least for a human nose. It wasn't like I could smell road kill from here or track people by scent or something.

At least I hoped not; that would not be a fun mutational expression.

I could simulate it, though, if I wanted. A form of robotic or cybernetic nose was easy enough; the only issue would be translation software in order to properly identify one scent from another. I could brute force that; it would be simple enough. Scan the scent and then match it to the substance to create a database; then I could upload everything to all my bots and....

And Ricky was tapping the side of his head. Jeanette hadn't moved just yet, but it was only a matter of time before she did. I put those thoughts carefully away and turned the page I'd just been messily scribbling the proper equations on.

Jeanette caught me looking at her and smiled.

Mr. Mullins was already halfway through the class, and like the others, he seemed pretty determined to ignore me. Fine by me really; I just wish I could get a bit more warning from them; I knew my teachers knew what it looked like when I went all mad-science. Some of them, anyway.
Whatever. Safe numbers, so even if Mr. Mullins were to check me, I'd be doing math. He didn't though; just droned over the same old tired equations he'd written on the board.

My notes came back just as we were about to leave. Our homework was already handed in, but Mr. Mullins was nice enough to sometimes let us hand in homework as class ended rather than before it started. A small mercy for us.

Sam handed hers in as soon as the bell rang, and shot out of the class as if she had somewhere to be. She didn't, though? At least not that I knew, and she'd tell me if so, right?

No, it was fine. She probably just had to go to the bathroom or something. Luckily, even with all the coffee, I was fine on that respect for now.
I waited until everyone else had left before getting up; it was easier that way.

Unfortunately, geography was even more boring than algebra or physics were; it was just blind rote learning of places and names around the country or the world. This week was supposed to be Romania of all places, for reasons only known to Mrs. Carson.

This one I'd have to pay attention in, because even though I'd read the book and my memory was pretty good, there were no underlying principles to be used here. It was all dry place names and terrain.

I took my seat, and Jeanette took her usual place. All was normal - even Pam glaring at me was normal now. I never did get to ask her what her problem was since she ran every time I got close enough. It was for the best I wasn't dealing with P.E.. Pam and a few others still didn't like my presence in there, or even in the female bathrooms.

They'd been overruled, of course. I tested as female through any method one could use, so there was no reason to deny me. For the best really, since the idea of using the same bathroom Monty or Flash used did not thrill me; Pam could hate me all she wanted, but she was unlikely to knock me out with a single punch. Those two? Very much could.

My days of being tough were over. At least, without some form of armor - that was what Jeanette was for. Well, one of many things that Jeanette was for.

Not ideal, but I had to do what I had to do. I could design body armor, but it would be obvious and rather heavy. Once I got the power armor down I could go back and work on some other things. I could also work on a personal force field, but power was a problem.
I needed to work my way up on the power supply problem; I didn't see any way to make a small form fusion or fission core, and my battery technology was non-existent at the moment.

So much work to do, so little time. I'd love to say that science never stops, but these were more engineering problems than anything else.
The desire to just... let go and automate it all, to go full on infrastructure so that I could simply type an order into my computer and see an item or invention machined out in a day or even less was strong.

It would involve holing up in my lab for a few weeks to a month, though, and so my parents would never go for it. It would also be an escalation, a step I wasn't sure I'd be able to take back once I took it.

I wanted to though. I wanted to just leave now and do it so bad I could taste it on my tongue. Did mutants have issues with impulse control, or was it just me? I'd have to ask Ricky; his opinion would at least give me another data point.

I wrote down a reminder and stuffed it in my coat. Sure it slowed my note taking down, but it wasn't like Mrs. Carson was going all that fast.
The bell signaled the end of class and lunch, and I went back over my notes; I'd gotten all the place names on there, and the notable things each place was supposedly known for. Not that Romania was known for much. Well, at least here; I'm sure Romanians knew all their lore after all. We Americans didn't really need to.

The chief export of Romania was electrical devices. At least, according to the book. So... that seemed like a good place to go if I wanted to manufacture some things.

I wasn't hungry, but I could use the break. "Jeanette, how cold is it now?"

"The current temperature indoors is seventy-three degrees. The temperature outside is forty-four degrees, according to the best information I possess."

At least she figured it out and corrected herself. Fourty-four was too cold. "I guess we need to head to the cafeteria then. Outside is too cold."
Even with my coat, even with my sweater, it'd be freezing outside.

"I see. Let us depart then."

Right, getting up was a thing, and it took a little more effort now than earlier. I hadn't even lost myself, and my body felt heavier than this morning. Which was cheating, body! Come on, work with me here!
It didn't get any better, but didn't get any worse, and my steps were steady enough. Jeanette stayed behind me and Ricky fell in beside as soon as I exited the classroom.

"I saw you look my way; what was it?"

"Do you have a problem with impulse control? Ever want to just do something you know or suspect is a bad idea?"

That was clear and utter confusion. "No, I don't think so. I have impulses occasionally, like 'I want a snickers right now' or 'I want to go here', but nothing I suspect is bad. I have bad thoughts, but I can ditch those fine. Are you saying you do?"

Yeah, deny that one: "I admit nothing, but it occurred to me that mutants might have impulse control problems, and that might be why I have to fight so hard to avoid designing and making things."

The light dawned on my friends' face. "Oh, you meant that. No, I think devisors are the only ones who have that sort of problem; all the ones I know of seem to be compelled to build, sooner or later. You might be onto something, though, cause that might partly explain how powered villains and criminals happen."

Hmm, maybe there was something to the idea after all. There might be enough for a study; should I ever feel the need - I wasn't really a fan of the soft sciences. At least not for myself; reading a study performed by someone else and actually creating the study myself were two different things.

The cafeteria was packed, which wasn't great. Yet it was also warm, so it was a trade off. The farthest table at the far side had enough space for us at a glance, but there were some people there. People we would likely disturb.

It was their table first, and according to the unwritten rules of the school, just sitting down was a no-no and a crime.

We'd have to ask first.

"Excuse me, are these seats taken?"

The guys I was addressing looked up or around at us. I knew them; all four were members of the vaunted computer club. All four were on the smaller side, with one being a little pudgy. None of them exercised willingly I was sure, and in P.E. class they were picked last routinely. Not that I could judge, because without my own pass, I'd be getting picked last every single time.

I couldn't read them. Before, my relationship with these guys was good. At the very least, it was neutral, mainly because I didn't make any fun of them. Now I certainly had no room to judge; for all I knew these guys might have a condition similar to my own; it wasn't like I asked them or anything.

"Nah, we're it. You can all sit down here if you want," the guy said.

What was his name again? Andre, I think.

"Yeah, plenty of room for all of you," another one said; he had his back turned to us, but I knew him a bit more than the others. Neil, from just two streets over. He was a geek through and through, and he and Ian played one of the strategy games he liked together.
I'd tried it, and it was a good game, but it lacked complexity. I guess rock paper scissors was good enough for most people.

Quinton, that was his name. Right now, he was staring at Jeanette as she moved around the table.

The pudgy guy was Fred, of all the names to have. I sat down next to him since it was the nearest empty seat, and Ralph took my other side in a hurry.

"Too cold outside, huh?"

"I'm pretty cold -blooded anymore," I replied. Was Jeeves coming, or was Jeanette going to meet him at the door?

The latter it seemed, as she stomped off at a brisk walk, dodging others with a grace that one would expect from a dancer. She'd definitely improved her control recently; I wonder how?

Another thing to ask; I dug the paper scrap out of my pocket and wrote the question down.

Sam and Maggie came up and just plunked themselves down across from me, to the obvious discomfort of the guy next to Andre. I mean, he was trying to play it cool, but it was obvious to me he was failing - so it must be equally as obvious to everyone else.

Ricky came in next, breathless, and took the seat next to Ralph. "Thought we'd be outside."

"Too cold."

"It isn't that cold," he argued. Why he felt the urge to argue with me over it I didn't know, nor did I care to know. It WAS too cold, objectively.

"Not all of us are made of muscle," Ricky broke in.

They glared at each other for a bit.

"So, what's for lunch?" Maggie asked. I pretended not to see the start of her drool. She was more than happy to eat whatever Jeeves brought.
Exactly when my lunch had turned into an opportunity to feed all my friends, I didn't know. I was long past the point of no return now, though, since none of them even bothered packing a lunch anymore.

Still, a question demanded an answer: "I've got no idea. I didn't get so much as a glimpse this morning on the way out."
I hoped it was something light. I wasn't sure how my stomach felt about anything rich right now.

We waited with varying levels of patience; Ricky even tried to play it cool as his own stomach betrayed him with a growl (thankfully, my own wasn't that loud, certainly not enough for others to hear).

Finally, Jeanette came back, our picnic basket held in both her hands. She all but skipped through the room; everyone else was already sitting down and chowing down.

She set the basket down between Ralph and I, and began dragging things out. First, a tupperware container of... chicken? My sensitive nose caught a whiff; we'd had this before. Basil chicken, Jeeves had called it. The next container was a massive one, and contained a salad. A salad I'd not had before, but it looked good. "What are those?"

"Chickpeas," Jeanette answered immediately, already setting plates out. She served me first, of course, then went around the table counterclockwise.

The drink she'd given me was a manufactured one... a tea mixed with chocolate? That sounded pretty good.

"I knew about it, I'd even seen it, but to be this close to it is something else," Quinton stated.

Was that supposed to mean something? "What is something else? I'm afraid I don't follow."

Quinton favored me with a hand, waving it all in. "All this. The picnic lunch at school, for all of you. The rich food, made by a chef. A chef robot no less. You have to admit it's a little wild, even for here."

I did? "He's not a chef, he's a butler."

Quinton gave me a stare. "I've never seen anything like what you eat for lunch outside of a restaurant in the city. The real expensive places. I'm not judging, it's just a little... wild."

Jeanette had finished serving, and was now standing at her favorite spot, right behind me. She said nothing.
What could I say in the face of this? "Jeeves likes to cook."

"Been meaning to ask, if it's not too personal or anything. Can your robot even taste the food?"

Good question Andre, glad you asked! "Of course. It doesn't work exactly like ours since my androids need a way to categorize what they taste, and bad tastes aren't really bad to them in more than an academic level, but they can taste and smell just fine.

"Smell?"

"Well yeah, taste and smell are linked. You can taste smells after all. It's all linked to molecules in the air around us, and... no, wait. You didn't ask for all that. Sorry."

I was getting better.

"Uh, right. It's fine, I get it."

I heard the guy next to him whisper, something about biology. Quinton shook his head, ever so slightly. He was still smiling, so it shouldn't be anything bad about me. Right?

Ricky already had his face in the salad. "How is it?"

He didn't spit anything out at me, but the thumbs up said it all. I took a taste. It was good, zesty with a bit of tang mixed in. Jeeves had done it again, and this time without actually cooking anything. Well, other than the chicken. The first bite of it proved I had it before, and it tasted just as good as I remembered.

I wanted to fill my stomach until it exploded, but that wouldn't happen; there was only so much to go around, and Jeanette was watching.
The tea was truly excellent, and paired well with the salad somehow. I don't know, I wasn't a foodie or anything.

Conversation ceased as we ate; no one wanted to be caught with food left by the bell. I could see that some of my friends had things to say, but the magic food had ensorcelled their brains, just as it had mine.

I was done with plenty of time. I finished the tea off, and my plates vanished back into the basket. Another drink came out of it, the same stuff.

Interesting, that meant we probably had more at home. I wasn't really a tea fan, but this stuff was speaking to me at the moment.
"So, ready to work all the food off?"

Maggie looked like she was bursting to say something... but she didn't seem to want to lead with it. "Nah, I'm not very psyched for P.E. today."

"Volleyball," Sam said.

"Right, it's just more volleyball. We had that last week! We need to do something different!"

"Couldn't agree more," The guy next to Andre muttered, then looked shocked he'd said anything.

Not sure why, most of us agreed with him. "Right! maybe we should suggest something to the Coach! Something like... wiffle ball or table tennis!"

Ricky, what? indoor wiffle ball so soon? We didn't usually go for that until another month into winter.

Table tennis was cool; I could maybe do that. It wasn't like I had any special issues there, and it was only table tennis. Even Ralph would find it hard to go all 'over-competing mutant' at table tennis. Even golf could be scammed, but table tennis? You hit the ball too hard, you lose outright.

It was something anyway. Something to look forward to maybe, for the second half of the day. You know, before the real fun started.

 

To Be Continued