Today was the day. Today was the day I was to meet Shecky Green. And if I was lucky, I'd be able to start the actual design phase of my crash test dummy-bots, and get Ian's computer designed and made. Then maybe, if I did all that, I could work on the rocket engines I wanted. I had a pretty cool idea for a small plane, it was actually much better than yesterday's idea.

I stretched as the alarm went off. I couldn't really keep redesigning if I ever wanted to build, but yesterdays designs really were inadequate. The computer processors I designed might even be a little less efficient than the ones in my laptop. More computing power, but also more power usage and more heat. I could maybe set one of the bots to cook. I had spent all afternoon and last night loading the printer and making some last minute adjustments. The design wasn't perfect, but I'd learn more just by making one than I would from running endless simulations and second guessing myself; it wasn't like I didn't have the resources to make several already. If it sucked as an assistant then I could just melt it back down.

There was a polite knock on the door. “Time to prepare for school, Mistress Min.”

Odd, the last few times he walked right in. Maybe it was because I was awake and actually feeling good for once?

I beat Ian to the bathroom again, but I knew he was awake; his computer was on and something with explosions was playing on it. Was he simply waiting on me? Being nice, since I now had to take longer to get ready due to this stupid hair? That seemed a little difficult to picture; maybe he'd stayed up and fell asleep at his computer again? That seemed more likely. Either way, I wasn't about to ruin it.

My clothes were already waiting for me, as were all the soaps and shampoos and conditioners and other crap people expected me to use. I used it, showering as quickly as I could. A few (alright, more than a few brushstrokes through my hair and then I got dressed, in the dress shirt that seemed grafted to a sweater; I had no idea what to call it, really, even though I was sure it had a name. Both it and the jeans hugged me and were warm, so it was a good choice. It felt cold today. Well more cold; one of the things I noticed was that I felt a little cold even on warm days. Thermal regulation did not seem to be something my body did well anymore.

It made me glad my lab coat wasn't a banned item at school. Speaking of which, it was downstairs. Ian left his room as I left the bathroom, his computer now quiet. I had my answer.

Breakfast was ready, and aside from the coffee, it was weird. “Jeeves, what is this, exactly?”

Mom and Dad were already chewing away, making moans of pleasure so I doubted it was poison, but still, it looked like a weird sort of oatmeal with… were those sliced peaches added in? Grapefruit maybe?

“Quinoa porridge, with chia, peaches, grapefruit, and a touch of lemon.” Was the unexpectedly comprehensive response.

“And what is Quinoa?” I'd never heard of it, but it was obviously a grain of some kind. I poked at it with the spoon, trying to get a better idea by its shape.

“An edible grain, mistress Min. It is considered tasty when prepared like this by a majority of humans.”

Mom finished chewing and glared. “Sit down, quit picking at it, and eat it. It's good and very good for you. Helps to promote tissue regrowth, which is good for a regenerator.”

I took an experimental bite. It really wasn't bad; it tasted more like barley than oatmeal, but it wasn't bad. It was even better with the peaches. The coffee was smooth and mild today; did Jeeves tailor that to my health too?

Well, either way, I wanted more of it. Maybe a full pot. “This coffee is coming with me.”

Dad opened his mouth, then looked up; I met his eyes and he closed it. Darn right; he can have some, but I'm taking the rest. If I hid it well the teachers wouldn't catch on. Jeeves didn't even question it, instead pulling out a shiny, brand new looking stainless steel thermos I didn't know we had. It looked like it would be perfect for sample collecting later if I needed to.

Ian came down and stared into his bowl. Mom gently sat him down as she went for a refill; she cut in front of Jeeves before he could start pouring himself. “Eat young man, it's good for you.”

Ian's reply was expected. “That must mean it tastes like… a – err, it's awful.”

I grinned as Mom glared. We both knew what he had been about to say. He was poking at his bowl much like I had; I decided to ease his fears. “It tastes just fine Ian. Kind of like a barly cereal. Like fruit loops, sort of.”

He took a bite and gave a glare of his own. “This tastes nothing like fruit loops.”

Of course, that didn't stop him from eating more.

Jeeves set a glass of orange juice in front of Ian then started brushing my hair while I finished up. He didn't dish me seconds, which was good since I was pretty full. I left my dishes in the sink but took my coffee with me back upstairs. I had to collect the notes I made last night.

Most were on my nightstand, but some had drifted to the floor; I really shouldn't use loose-leaf sheets for note taking, I guess. I got them and checked the clock. I still had a good twenty minutes; that was plenty of time. I drained my mug on the way back downstairs and topped it off with the last liquid in the pot. Ian was eating seconds, and both Mom and Dad had topped off cups as well. Dad was still reading, but I realized he had switched from the paper to soldier of fortune magazine. He was probably looking at the guns again.

Mom was collecting dishes; that wouldn't do at all. “Mom, let Jeeves do that. Jeeves, do the dishes and make sure everything I need for the day is in my backpack. I'm going out to my lab, let me know when it's time to go to school.”

“Yes, mistress Min.” He waited until Mom turned to me, mouth open, then snuck in front of the sink; she wouldn't be able to move him now. I grabbed my coat and ducked out before she got over the distraction and returned to whatever she was going to say to me. If I didn't hear her say not to go, then I wouldn't have to obey!

A short jog and I unlocked the door, allowing the retinal scanner to do its work. It wasn't perfect, but between it and the fingerprint detector on the door handle, it would keep anyone but a mystique wannabe out. I would make the security a bit more robust starting today, but the first step to that was providing an android like my crash test dummy; he could at least be programmed with a list of who could be let in and who to raise the alarm about. I was glad I remembered to keep the keys in my coat.

My laptop was on the desk, sleeping. I hit the button for the window shutters and crossed over while they retracted from the windows and skylight with a faint rumble. Jiggling the mouse a little woke it up and I started feeding my last minute notes in by scanner, letting the program I'd build a week ago run a comparison match between the older and newer blueprints. It took about ten minutes, going by the clock on the wall.

I cycled the start up for the 3d printer then started the simulations on the latest merged blueprints. I was pretty happy with myself when the clock struck 7:30 and I hadn't gone into any sort of episode; I hoped that meant it was getting easier, but I didn't want to fool myself; it could just be that old designs (even a day old) didn't hold my interest the same way new stuff did. There was a knock on the door at 7:30 and 15 seconds.

“It is time for school, mistress Min.”

“Coming!” I wasn't sure why Jeeves didn't just come in, he was cleared too and had his own key (I wasn't absolutely sure, but if anyone would have made a spare key for themselves, it would have been him).

I set the printer on automatic, put the signs up so no one would stumble into it and get hurt. With the receptacle chute in place to prevent anything from getting damaged when it was finished, I left and locked up. “Jeeves, if you aren't doing anything else, can you check on the printer throughout the day? I have it set up but it really should be at least looked in on. I'll leave the laptop here so you can shut it off remotely just in case.”

“Of course, mistress Min.” So he really did have a key of his own; good. It would be a bit of a pain to just make notes for a day, but using my phone the way I used my laptop would get noticed, and I didn't have the clearance to use my phone that way by the school, so it'd just get confiscated as if I were making texts in class or something.

The slight irritation would be worth it, anyway; I'd made do with notebooks before, and it wasn't even that long ago.

I waved to my respective tails as we walked, and both of them (agent Sands and agent Douglas, both opposite each other in different nondescript cars, both not fooling anyone) waved back with sheepish grins. Agent Sands saluted me with his coffee as I passed. It was Starbucks, and that meant it was inferior. Between that and the donut on his dash, I almost felt sorry for him. I wonder if it would break some sort of code to invite him over for breakfast for a day? Of course, if I did that I'd have to invite agent Douglas over as well; wouldn't be fair to him otherwise.

Ricky was waiting at the end of his block, like usual, dribbling a basketball. Decisions, decisions… more time using my phone to plot potential weak points in robotic joint design, or steal his ball? I tucked my phone into my back pocket as we got close and made my move right as he opened his mouth to say hello.

“Morning Min. Hey, my ball!”

I still got it. Well, some of it, anyway. “Morning Ricky, how are you?”

I dribbled the ball a bit and passed it back to him. He caught it with that distinctive slap of ball hitting hand that I missed and went back to dribbling, falling in next to me.

“Pretty good, got all my homework done. Parents aren't flipping out about the C I got in history yesterday. They have changed priorities lately.”

Well, that sounded ominous. Ricky's parents weren't as cool as mine; they were always yelling at him about low grades or turning his music down or some other such thing… and I was pretty sure they did not like me. They hadn't met the new me, mostly because I was busy, but the way they had acted before – it was nothing I could really put my finger on, they were always nice and polite, but it was as if they considered me the reason Ricky got into all the trouble he did at school; a thought I'd shared with Ricky and we'd both laughed over in the past.

“So what's on tap for you today? That wayward robot coming home still?”

“Yep, that and I'm working on another. I think I'll name him Crash.”

Ricky made a humming noise, switching dribbling hands. “That seems like a pretty obvious name, even for a testing robot. How long will he take to make?”

Of course, it was an obvious name. I sucked at names. “He will probably be done tonight or tomorrow? I'm not really sure. He could take a week, but if Jeeves is there to oversee the production, it shouldn't take nearly that long. I kind of really need him for security; there are a lot of crazies out there, and I won't stay an unknown forever.”

I could do a lot of good, but only if I didn't piss off the wrong people or something. I was pretty sure a jealous devisor with more resources than I had would eat me alive, and that ARNEE was right for hiding – or rather, I was right, for programming him to hide even from myself. What I didn't know, I couldn't reveal. On the other hand, I had to take it slow, or I might make everyone else nervous.

Like Ricky, he seemed a bit nervous right now. “You mean more like that one jerk?”

I wasn't going to treat his concerns lightly. “Or worse than him, yes. I just want to be ready.”

I could see me getting kidnapped for my tech, devisor or not. Or maybe I was just paranoid. After all, no one had tried to force me to do anything yet, and it had been weeks! The CIA hadn't even tried to force me to reveal ARNEE. It wouldn't have done them any good, but they hadn't even tried. I was probably just reading too much into it; it wasn't like my tech was reproducible, even if it made perfect sense to me.

Of course, that didn't stop random people from stopping by and assuming this area was easy pickings. It had happened before, after all. Either way, it would ease my mind to be ready. Well, within reason; I didn't want to start a terminator scenario either. So far my robots had proven loyal, but their idea of loyalty was infuriating at times.

The school came into view and Jeeves stopped, handing off my backpack. It was heavier than I remembered. “Have a wonderful day mistress Min, and do not hesitate to call should you need me. I am heading back now to oversee the printer. I shall be waiting for you at mid-day at your usual spot with lunch. If you'll excuse me.”

I waved him off and he left; setting the backpack on a shoulder almost knocked me completely off balance. Ricky moved to help but was saved from a pounding by the arrival of Maggie and Sam. I wasn't THAT weak, it just took me by surprise was all; six books and notebooks shouldn't be that heavy.

I went to my locker and placed my books inside it; I'd read them already, so they were just taking up space. Anything I needed to refresh myself on I had my notes for, but I didn't seem to forget anything technical or any rote facts anymore. Even better it seemed to work retroactively, so I could remember past middle school lessons, especially the math and science. If I'd forgotten last years history lessons… well, I'd forgotten them, so how would I know? I didn't think I did, though, I knew how many people Washington crossed the Delaware with of all things, and I was pretty sure I'd forgotten that at one point.

I was proven right by my first class. A pop quiz, and I had it done in five minutes. I adjusted my glasses, pulled out one of my design notebooks and got to work, trying to ignore the way Pam was sneaking glances at me. She wouldn't even talk to me lately and it seemed like she was avoiding me. Other than her, though, the school seemed to be back to ignoring me, or at least no longer staring at me when I walked by. It could just be my imagination, but people seemed more friendly to me now. I kind of hoped it was just something I was imagining since it made no sense; people were distrustful and wary of Ralph, the other mutant in school.

Maybe it was because I was tiny. It certainly wasn't the hair, mine was every bit as bright as his, if less eye-searing. It took some getting used to, but I was getting used to it, slowly. It was a bit fascinating how quickly and easily humans could get used to changes in their appearance. Why it happened wasn't as easily understood – at least not for me. Maybe I could ask an expert. Well, just as soon as I found one.

Class periods passed in the same boring manner of school class periods everywhere. Algebra and geography were droning lectures covering material I'd already read and understood. It was interesting to see how the Rhone river had moved it's bed over the centuries, though, even if it was just a computer model and therefore likely flawed.

Gym was just more sitting around, writing in my notebook. A few modifications to my other robot design, and my newer jet design, and I looked up. Only fifteen minutes had passed, and something was wrong. Ralph, who had been sitting next to me reading a book, noticed it too.

“What's wrong, Min?”

I shook my head; it actually took a moment to figure it out, but the light dawned. “I'm bored.”

I was actually bored of just sitting here writing. I wanted to go do something, anything, more hands on that this. I stood up.

“Come on, let's go see the coach.” After all, if I was bored, Ralph had to be too, right? A look back showed he was following me and he hadn't objected, so that was a yes.

Coach Howard was watching the class play; he turned to us as we walked up. I opened my mouth in a hurry before he opened his.

“Coach, I know we're not allowed to participate with the other kids, but is there anything we can do? Kind of want to move a little, here. Maybe we can run laps outside or something? The day is pretty nice.”

Of course, I hadn't changed into any gym clothes, and that would make it harder to run… but for all that it was nice, it was a little chilly so my coat would come in handy. It wasn't like I was cheating or anything.

Too bad the Coach shot that idea down with a shake of his head. “You're both still under my supervision, and I'd have to be watching. If you went outside, I wouldn't be able to keep an eye on you. I don't mind you doing something, but it'd have to be alone or the two of you, and it'd have to be inside.”

He cupped his chin, thinking. I could actually see the idea strike him. “Got it. There is something you can do if you want.”

I didn't like his grin. “What is it?”

If he asked me to clean out the closets again, I was going to unleash mechanical spiders on him. I could do it, I knew.

“Ping pong. Table tennis. You can set up the table in the corner there, and play a few games. It located in the closet, far wall, next to the baseball bag. The balls and paddles are in the felt bag under the table top.”

Really? Ping pong? “Don't you have anything that's a little more… active?”

He shrugged back at me. “Not that you can dig out on short notice. I can plan a little something tomorrow, but you kind of caught me by surprise here.”

I could tell what he wanted to say. That I had been quite content before to write weird things and make paper animals. I couldn't even say I wouldn't be back to that tomorrow, because ping pong. But for now it was something to do, and a way to move around.

I went to the closet and Ralph followed me without a word. He stepped in front of me as I turned on the light (the closet had no windows, and was, therefore, dim) and just picked up the table by himself. Sure, it wasn't a heavy thing, but it was awkward, but every time I reached out to help he moved the table away, smirking all the while. I finally just held the door for him.

“Thank you, dear lady.” I smirked back at him when he banged the edge of the table against the door frame and almost tripped himself. Coach Howard spared him a glare; the sound had apparently been loud enough for him to hear and no doubt we would get a lecture later about being more careful with school property; never mind that the table as older than I was and made of old wood and steel.

We unfolded it together in the corner, picked our paddles, and I grabbed a ball, taking the coveted first serve. All in all, we squeezed in three games.

Ralph kicked my butt in all three. The guy was a ping pong wizard or something. I couldn't even see his hands move half the time, it was stupid, but I had fun anyway.

I was actually a little tired as I helped fold the table up and put it away. This time, Ralph let me help, though he supported all the weight; I just got to help him steady it and open the door again. It was a good sort of burn, though, and I was looking forward to lunch.

Ralph went to get his lunch and then ran back to my side, scattering people with a disturbing lack of caution. I waited a bit so he'd slow down, but he didn't. At least all that happened were dirty looks, and no one got hurt. My lunch was set up at the table under the tree, with Jeeves standing there, one hand on the covered platter, the other on the chair I liked.

I sat and he actually lifted the chair up and set it closer with one hand as he removed the lid. On the dish were a good ten or twelve items I recognized; grilled Panini.

I turned to look at him as he served one to my plate. “Losing your touch? I've actually had Panini before.”

“Zucchini Panini, mistress Min, Italian style.' He uncovered the other dishes and pointed to each in turn. 'Garden Risotto and Sicilian artichokes.”

Okay, I hadn't had any of that before. But one day, he would screw up and serve me something that didn't take a thousand years to make, and I would laugh at him. He poured some dark juice, and I took a sip; cranberry-pomegranate, one of my favorite. Knowing Jeeves, it was probably the best juice for the food, too.

Sam and Maggie came up and took their seats. Ralph had known better than to sit down. Neither Sam nor Maggie were carrying lunches, and there were place settings for them, but there was no way the three of us were going to eat all this alone. It made me worry how much money Jeeves was no doubt spending on food; could we even afford this?

The first question for Shecky, perhaps. Maybe right after why his name was Shecky; it all but screamed 'shyster'.

“Wow, these are really good!” Maggie exclaimed, talking with a full mouth. Sam just nodded along.

“Please consume the side dishes as well, if you please.” Jeeves chided as several of the Panini made their way onto the others plates. Maggie nodded, but Sam had the good grace to look repentant, stabbing artichokes with a fork and moving them over.

Ricky walked up empty handed and without so much as a word or thought snagged a Panini himself, cramming half of it into his face immediately while Jeeves looked on with clear disapproval. After chewing noisily for a bit he swallowed and spoke, sounding almost angry.

“So, you wanted to ping-pong today?”

Sam chimed in. “Good.”

I actually knew what she meant, that time. “Kind of you to say Sam, but I sucked. And yeah, I just wanted to do something. I don't mind folding cranes or playing chess or designing stuff, but I wanted to move, you know?”

Sam clarified. “Not you; Ralph.”

Maggie laughed. “Yeah, he was pretty good, wasn't he? Who knew he was a ping-pong ace?”

Well, now I felt stupid. “Gee, thanks, Sam.” She nodded as if to say 'don't mention it.'

Ralph was turning an interesting shade, though.

“Might even finish lunch early and walk around a little. It's a nice day.”

It really was, a slight fresh smelling breeze, sunny with only two white clouds in the sky. I pretended not to notice the unmarked van across the street and turned back to my lunch.

“Jeeves, what's the progress on Crash?” The name Crash did more than suit him, it described him, but I really needed to think of a different one.

“When I left, two hundred of the three hundred and twenty-seven parts were printed. Excepting the power system, of course. You will have to build that by hand, I fear. When I return, I shall begin the construction, with your permission.”

I nodded, thinking.”You have it.”

My technology was dangerous; a fully functioning android in a day or two. Looking human, with just a few quirks – and that was on one printer. I could simply make more than one printer if I wanted; streamline the process - end up making hundreds or thousands. It would be easy, with a little money.

But I wouldn't. There was nothing I needed such an army for, anyway. I needed to know if my creations would turn on me, too. I had some safety measures in place, but I had to make sure they would be enough. So far Jeeves hadn't fired eye lasers, yelled death to humans, or poisoned me, so I was pretty sure the programming was sound.

But I needed more data to be sure, and another android would give me that. Simulations could only tell one so much, after all. I just had to be careful not to go overboard; already ideas for weaponized androids were floating around in my head; robots who were only built for one purpose.

My power was scary.

It turned out that after two Panini, the Risotto, and four artichokes later there wasn't enough time left to do more than shuffle around to the side door while Jeeves packed up. Maggie fell into step beside me, prompting Sam to stop helping Jeeves (Something that was ridiculous, really; Jeeves wouldn't want help doing what he was made for, after all, it would be like reducing his purpose for existing.) and fall in behind us.

“Well, tough break. So, what are you planning after school?”

I rolled my eyes. “Same thing I said I was doing yesterday, Maggie. Working on the engine.”

She grinned. “Hey, I just wanted to make sure. You have changed your mind before, and you do have that robot coming over. We're still invited, right?”

I sighed. “Yes, you are. You all are.”

I would have to double check the safety measures and equipment before I turned anything on. Especially around the printer. I was pretty sure why the printer was acting that way, it was detecting metals, minerals, and other materials suited for the print jobs I was giving it, and trying to save effort and time by eating them.

Perhaps if I split the atoms of matter correctly, I could reconstruct it and make one type of matter into something else. Then I could have that device make the material for the printer, and it wouldn't be trying to eat people's computers, phones, or androids. No, that just wasn't possible. It would be possible to do that sort of thing with metals, making different alloys and such, or making gems or crystals, using pressure or chemical treatments, but taking a rock like sandstone and making it titanium? Just wouldn't work. Still, that was another machine, or even series of machines, to add to the list.

“Earth to Min?”

I looked up to find Ralph staring at me, Ricky looking vaguely pissed about something in the background. Maggie had the door open and a smirk on her face and Sam was... behind me?

“Sorry. Was thinking about something.”

“Oh? What was it this time?”

“Just going over the safety measures. I don't want anyone to lose an eye or anything, after all.”

Maggie shrugged and stepped inside. “I trust you.”

“Trust.” Sam seconded.

I stepped in after them, Ricky right behind. Ralph ended up holding the door for both of us.

School dragged. My homework took less than twenty minutes to do since I no longer needed to read any of my books, and I spent some time on making origami animals. Dolphins and sharks were easy, but the gorillas were crazy; I resolved to burn those before Ralph could see my laughable attempts.

Then I started writing the necessary molecule chain of a titanium/aluminum alloy that could be layered in mono-molecular sheets and fused; I couldn't possibly heat the materials I had high enough, but I there were other ways. I could make a batch of nanites to physically move the matter and then fuse to it. If I did it right, they could become the basis for any circuitry I would need later, but I really just wanted a blast shield and some movable walls from the idea now. Proof of concept.

And all this without my brain going into that mysterious upper gear it had. I had perfect recall of my location and situation! But I could still feel it lurking there, in the back of my mind. Keeping my thoughts grounded required constant vigilance.

English was boring. I collected my graded homework, blinking at the B; evidently my ideas on Shakespeare's midsummer night's dream were not sufficiently detailed. Granted, it was still better than my old work, but Mom was going to be pissed. I was pretty sure she expected A's in every subject.

The assignment Mrs. Holmes handed down was to read the next one on the list; King Lear. I'd already read it, but I probably should read it again. I knew what the problem with my last paper had been; I had wanted to get it done so I could work on other things, like Crash. That was something else I'd have to watch. I gathered my notebooks and left, nodding to Mrs. Holmes as I joined the exodus out the door. She frowned at me a little but didn't say anything.

Surely she wasn't disappointed in my B too? I mean I used to get C's in English, getting B's was a rare event. It wasn't really fair.

I wasn't the only one to get the disappointed eye. Ricky also got it, and he was still clutching his paper – I could see the large C on it. Oh well, there was nothing to do for it now, but to do better next time. I stopped by my locker with a sigh. King Lear was in it, part of the truly large literature text that was one-half of the English course. The other half was the grammar and writing rules text of course.

I spun the combination, grabbed the book, and shut the door. Ralph was revealed, waiting.

“Come on, I'll act as a trailblazer for you.”

True to his word he took off, using his bright hair to his advantage; the wave of students broke upon his personal space. I followed; my hair was pretty bright, come to think of it; I wonder why people didn't avoid me the same way they avoided Ralph? Was it because my hair was eye-searing? Was it some buried predator response leftover in their human psyche from nature, the bright orange denoting poison, while my own bright but softer hair just missed the cut?

No, that seemed stupid. Maybe it was his size; after all, he was as big as I used to be, and built, and I was tiny now. That was probably it.

Maggie, Sam, and Ricky were already waiting with Jeeves, who was just off school grounds. That was kind of odd since he was now allowed to accompany me to class if he wanted. He'd seemed so... if not excited, he seemed interested.

There was one possibility to account for that. “Jeeves, when did you arrive?”

He didn't hesitate. “I arrived at this location exactly seventeen point two three seconds ago.”

Right, he'd been busy, and rather than watch me at school he was doing as I asked. A point in his favor.

I started walking, and Maggie fell in on one side, Same fell in on the other. Ricky, Ralph, and Jeeves walked behind us. That seemed a curious arrangement, but I refused to be distracted by it.

“Have you heard from Shecky yet, Jeeves?”

“I have indeed, fifty-six minutes ago. He is on the final leg of his journey, and reported he should arrive within the hour, barring complications.”

I had the butterflies in my stomach trained to do synchronized cartwheels. “Good.”

“Status on the print jobs?” On Crash?

“The part fabrications are roughly 77% complete. I have begun preliminary construction. The engine awaits your gentle touch.”

Well, that was better progress than expected. “How did you manage that, Jeeves?”

“I fabricated some of the required pieces for the engine personally, of course.”

Well, I hadn't told him not to, though how he did that and started Crash's construction was the question now; He couldn't multi-task any better than I could. Could he?

I mean unless he had more arms, he shouldn't be able to.

“So, anything new going on, Maggie?” Ralph asked.

Maggie thought he meant with the paper; he probably did. “Nah, nothing. This place is dead; other than Min, biggest news is whether the drought expected later this summer will actually happen and stunt the corn crop.”

No news was good news.

“National.” Sam said with a pointed look.

“Oh, right, you guys hear about the new mutant laws proposed? They are a clear violation of civil rights. It's in all the news.”

Ralph snorted. “My mom says they won't pass, but it seems like congress wants to waste time over stupid stuff.”

Sam nodded as I pondered that. I couldn't see how adding more laws and regulation would actually help the problem, but then again I was a kid, and not exactly the best versed on the issues. It might be time to change that.

Talk turned to the game scheduled next week against the town of Libertyville next week, and the chances our team had of beating them. The chances without me probably weren't good, but I'd be there cheering at least, maybe that would help.

And then we were home. “Be right there guys. Just going to drop my bag at the door and tell my Mom we're home.”

Sure, I could let Jeeves do it, but Mom would not appreciate that; she would want me to tell her I was home myself.

I opened the door and frowned; Ian's shoes were not here, so he wasn't. Normally he beat me home.

“Mom, I'm home! Going out to the lab with my friends, my homework is done!”

I dropped my bag in the corner and shut the door before I could be drafted for something. There, she was informed, and my conscience was clear.

My friends were waiting on me; Jeeves wouldn't unlock the door until I'd arrived. He opened it up and I went straight to the refreshments on the table, zeroing in on the cup of still steaming coffee. Everyone else grabbed sodas.

Jeeves had also made cookies... peanut butter and chocolate chip, by the looks of them. I wasn't hungry yet, but I knew I would be.

Sam was less shy, stuffing her face immediately as I went over to look at the engine hanging suspended in the center from chains, under the skylight.

“Delicious.” She gushed. Well, gushed for her.

The frame was together, the lines for power had been run, and the slotted sections designed to hold the delicate electronics and internals were all there. What was missing were the delicate electronics and internals. They were lying there on the desk, checking them for flaws, putting them together, and then slotting them in the case should be easy, if a little tedious. I set a magnifying glass above the parts, got my soldering iron out, and got to work.

Quick, delicate movements were the key. Luckily my hand-eye coordination was still very good. I was vaguely aware of conversations starting in the background, but it didn't bother me... it sounded like Sam and Maggie were doing their homework. Ricky joined in when the conversation got to English, and I approved; he needed the help.

“So, Min, what do you think about King Lear? Have you started reading it yet?” Maggie's question took me by surprise, but it really shouldn't have.

“I've read it, yes. I think the king is a stereotypical bumbling idiot with power, but he may be the origin, or one of the origins, of the stereotype. I think he really should have known which of his daughters was suitable to inherit, and should have known the political situation of his kingdom.”

I didn't add that I thought the entire thing was too trite and contrived. I didn't see any real king ever just giving up his entire kingdom and dividing it among his heirs.

Sam struck on my comments first, with a muttered “True.”

“Yeah, that's my take as well.” Maggie agreed. “I think Shakespeare was trying to illustrate a certain amount of stupidity of the noble class by ratcheting it up a notch, or something.”

I settled a recalcitrant transistor in place as Ralph took up the conversation. “The legend of King Lear is supposed to be real, though. He was supposed to be a real king, pre-Roman, and his story was recorded as mostly the way Shakespeare wrote it, at least in the general details.”

I turned to look at Ralph. Sam gaped at him openly. Ricky was gaping at him too. He hunched over defensively.

“What? I read.”

I turned back to my work with a shrug. “Well, if you're going to write that in the paper, you'll have to cite sources.”

I saw him wince out of the corner of my eye. “Yeah, I won't be doing that. Just something I read somewhere.”

Probably Wikipedia, when he knew King Lear was on the syllabus. I turned back to the circuit board with a frown; I had no idea what I'd write on the subject myself, but we all had time. The reading assignment had just been passed down, after all.

Where was Shecky?

I had the engine more than half assembled and Jeeves had long since left in order to prepare dinner when the lab doorbell chimed pleasantly. Everyone else looked up from their homework as I answered it; it seemed the novelty of watching me carefully construct things had already gone stale.

The man in the doorway was not a man. He certainly looked the part, being middle aged, chubby large, and happy looking with a broad smile on his face. The beady eyes and the pea green striped suit with red dress shirt underneath told the truth, however; no human would wear that color combination.

Why did he look so out of shape? Was it a fuel or power supply thing? Jeeves managed just fine with the magnetic turbine and that was only the size of a large fist, did ARNEE do something different for Shecky?

He stuck out his hand as his smile widened. “Miss Campbell, pleased to finally meet you. I'm Shecky Green, your agent, business manager, and attorney.”

I could play along. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Green. Call me Min, please.”

There was a scraping of seats and suddenly my friends were behind me. I also spotted Jeeves coming out the back door. He didn't look happy.

“Look, sorry I'm late, Traffic outside Christown was a bear.”

Christown was a tiny hamlet even smaller than Paris was, so I doubted that. But it looked like Shecky was the type to make excuses and be late, so maybe both had been programmed in as quirks? Or maybe they were unintentional quirks?

“Almost time for dinner, mistress Min.”

“Thank you, Jeeves.” I was saved having to push past Shecky; he moved back on his own as Jeeves approached. Once I was passed he held out his hand.

“Pleased to finally meet you Jeeves, I'm Shecky Green.”

Jeeves ignored the hand, putting himself at my back as everyone else filed out of the lab. Sam, the last one out, locked it and tossed me my keys, which I had apparently left on the table. I nodded thanks as I watched the show.

Jeeves and Shecky didn't like each other, it seemed. Well, Jeeves didn't like Shecky at least; Shecky seemed more amused by the reaction than anything else.

Sorry guys, I think dinner's going to be family only tonight. Maybe tomorrow?”

Maggie nodded with a grin; she'd caught on too. “Sure thing, tell us how it goes, alright?”

“Sure, I'll have the engine done tomorrow too, so we can test it.”

Sam brightened. She had paid at least some attention to what I had been doing.

I waved and went inside; Mom was waiting in the kitchen, but when her eyes lit on Shecky, following us in, she stopped.

“Who is that? Is that your mystery robot? I thought he was a no-show.”

Shecky swept his bulk into a florid bow. “Pleased to meet you, madam. Shecky Green, agent, and consultant in legal matters, including patent law.”

Mom shot a sort of 'is this guy for real?' look and started laughing.

Shecky ignored her. “I don't mean to interrupt your families dinner, but I just have a few things to cover with you all. You and your husband mostly, since miss Campbell is underage.”

“Oh, miss Campbell, is it?” Mom kept giggling.

Dad came storming in. “Who's wreck is that in the driveway?”

Shecky answered. “My wreck, sir. Shecky Green, agent and patent lawyer.”

Dad clearly didn't know what to think. “Uh, hi.”

“So, can I get you anything Mr. Green?” Mom asked with a sparkle in her eye.

“No, thank you, Ma'am. I'm just here to discuss a few legal matters with you both, then I'll be on my way.”

“Alright, what legal matters, exactly? Something was mentioned about patents before?” Wow, we weren't even going to sit down for this. A major breach in etiquette... but then again, dinner was probably on the table.

“Right.” Shecky reached into his jacket pocket, slowly. Mom and Dad both tensed. He pulled out a small book; a check book? He held it out to me.

I grabbed it before Mom could intercept me. It had Paris national stamped on it and was definitely a checkbook. There was a bank balance book inside it, and one of the new debit cards inside that.

“That's your account, miss Campbell. The profit from the sale of the rights to produce the new coffee pot filtration system, the new flange for jet engine casing and flange design should already be in the account, by contract you keep the right to make anything you design without challenge, but I've not yet been able to confirm all the payments as the bank is currently closed. Mr. Coffee picked up the new pot filtration design for three percent of sales, and GE and Rolls-Royce are currently in talks about the engine and flange design.”

He grinned. I wasn't amused. “You mean the engine I haven't even tested yet?”

He waved a hand in dismissal. “It'll work, and you've had the design down for days. Besides, this is just for the basic design and casing, not even including the fusion reactor. I knew you didn't want to sell anything too advanced, like the nanites or the magnetic turbine or the printer.”

Mom's eyes narrowed. “And how did you know that, Mr. Green?”

He pulled out a handkerchief and mopped his face. “Tough crowd. Truth is, Ma'am, we all know about the boss and her dealings. Our jobs, our reasons for existence if you will, is to anticipate her wishes and help her as best we can. My job ain't the most glamorous, but she needs it. We keep an eye and an ear on her, and we can better do what she wants. Right now, what she wants, is her tech, her real tech, kept under wraps.

Things like the coffee maker and the flanges? Child's play. New ways to mold Titanium cases? Sure. The nanites or fusion or us? All of that can be world changin', and she don't want it getting out just yet. So it won't; or at least I won't be the one to do it. Only reason I'm stepping up the timetable now is miss Campbell needs the money to pay you both back.”

“Oh, and just how much money has the sale of these gadgets netted her?” Mom asked.

“Well, the coffeepot netted a hundred thousand up front; I talked Mr. Coffee into that, it wasn't something they wanted to do. That is actually in the account as of today. General Electric and Rolls-Royce are still in a bidding war for the engine. Something lighter than their normal and more efficient besides, translating to at least 3% better fuel efficiency without any power supply shenanigans aside, on an engine that can eventually be adapted to run on other forms of energy – inside a streamlined housing that creates less drag and can be machined easier.”

Shecky mopped his forehead and grinned, showing teeth before he continued.

“Right now the price for the design might top a hundred million.”

Jeeves caught me before I hit the floor. Mom wasn't far behind. And I'd been doing so well today too.

But the things I could do with actual money, on top of being filthy rich... even worse, the attention it would draw.

“We need a shell company, a trust, or something.”

Shecky, who was being blocked from checking up on me by Mom (Dad was on the floor in a daze, he had no Jeeves to carry him bridal style) nodded. “Already handled. You're a nameless, faceless inventor of SG heavy industries, as far as anyone knows. If anyone manages to get past that, your name is Consuela Jones and you live in the Philippines. No one will be able to track you down from your patents unless we want them to. Same with the payments.”

“Is there really a Consuela Jones?” I didn't want some random person getting hurt by someone coming after me.

“There are plenty, actually, but don't worry, anyone coming after you will do a background check first; they won't target random people.”

Mom nodded. I guess having friends in the CIA, she'd know. It all seemed a little too cloak and dagger-y to me.

I turned to Mom and Dad. It wasn't that I didn't trust Shecky – but I didn't trust Shecky. He just struck me as smarmy; kind of like a leashed used car salesman. One on your side, but still a used snake oil kind of guy.

“What do you think?”

Mom knew what I was asking right off, answering as Dad shook himself free of dollar sign dreams. “It sounds pretty good. Not foolproof, by any means, but with what my friends are doing? It'll be as close to ironclad as we can get here. Especially considering Mr. Green here can apparently hack and falsify records.”

Shecky actually blushed. How did he do that? “Aww shucks, Ma'am. You give me too much credit; I'm not the real hacker. But you're right that I can defend Miss Campbell from anything unlawful, at least on that side of things. We have friends.”

“The mysterious Arnee?”

Shecky grinned. “Got it in one, Ma'am.”

Dad finally managed to stand back up. “Young lady, that money and any other amount you earn, is going right into a trust fund; you're not getting it until you're eighteen.”

I looked at Shecky and he nodded slightly. He really was smarmy; he could get to the money if I really needed him to, wherever my parents put it. A good thing, really, because those kinds of funds could speed up my timeline by months. Strictly if I needed to, of course.

“Fine Dad, as long as I get an allowance to buy stuff every now and again. That way I won't run out of titanium or other stuff.”

Mom cut in. “That's fine, we can negotiate the amount later. For right now, dinner is getting cold.”

Mom had spoken. I poked Jeeves and he let me down. Shecky took that as his cue. “Alright, well I got things to do. I'll see if I can close that deal tonight if you'll all excuse me. I'll just leave my card right here and see myself out. Have a nice night.”

He left, shutting the back door behind him. I snagged it one step ahead of Mom; Dad was busy tracking him through the windows as he walked around the house.

The card was green ink on cheap card stock... and it proclaimed him as “Shecky Green, agent.” but when had he had time to order or make business cards?

We all filed into the dining room where dinner was waiting. Dinner was grilled pork chops, mashed potatoes, and Lima beans. I raised an eyebrow at Jeeves, and he nodded at my Mom. Well, that was a very Mom dinner menu; so she had cooked tonight, and Jeeves had what, helped?

Ian made typing motions with his hands as I passed. It was good to know all of us being rich hadn't made him forget about the important things, like his new computer. I mouthed 'in the lab' at him, and he nodded.

It was, too. Still in a pile of parts, but the computer did exist. I'd have Jeeves construct it tonight. Delegating counted, didn't it? I mean Jeeves was my creation, so him making it was like me making it, and I doubted he could screw up making a simple computer with the parts already printed off to tolerances. That would leave me to finish the engine, which was actually sort of dangerous.

Dinner was good, but a little bland tasting and disappointing, in a way. Of course, I was a genius now, which meant I knew better than to actually voice that opinion. Mom was already watching each of us in turn with a disconcertingly intense look like she was waiting for the wrong word or movement. Dad and Ian both looked at me as if to say it was my fault.

And Jeeves looked insufferable somehow.