Finally the day was over, and we could do what we wanted.Which meant following me to my lab, if you were a friend of mine. It was a little odd, but I'd long since accepted it. I'd smelled that smell, that weird smell, a few more times in school, but I hadn't been able to track it down.

That was fine, I could make something to track it down for me if it bothered me enough; but still, one needed to have priorities, and someone needed a body. If I burned a little midnight oil, I could get my newest up in three days. Well three days or whenever she was ready.

I was going to go all out, and build a body with all the improvements I'd thought of... but she wouldn't be that much stronger; if I built a combat chassis that would defeat the entire point of everything I wanted to stand for and everything I'd done so far. Instead I'd make a suit for her to use, in case of SWAT operations or against powered opponents. I already had plans for one anyway, as a just in case for me.

The suit would be next week, I think. Maybe I'd make two?

"Penny," Sam said, holding one up.

"I was just thinking about making suits." It wasn't like Sam to offer words... or pennies.

She flicked the coin at me and I caught it; hey, copper was copper.

"Suits?"

"Yeah, you know. Power armor. self-propelling shells with rocket boots and maybe some weapons mounted."

I could see the moment Sam caught on; her eyes took an almost unhealthy gleam, and she opened her mouth again to volunteer another sentence, a true rarity for her. I decided to cut that interest off: "Yes, you can see it once its done. Of course you can. I'll have to field test the hell out of it before anything else though, so don't get your hopes up."

Crash would insist, even if no one else did. Hell I wouldn't even be allowed in the thing for a month or more, at the least. I could already see Jeanette telling me no, and she hadn't even turned around yet.

Why hadn't she turned around yet? What was she looking at?

She was looking at something down the street. What was it? "Jeanette?"

My maid turned slightly, but did not take her eyes from whatever it was that caught them. "Yes, Mistress?"

She was playing dumb. I was almost insulted. Should I let it go? No, we were all walking toward it, since whatever it was, was near my home.

"What is it? What are you looking at?"

Sam shaded her eyes and looked over in the same direction as Jeanette turned back. "Car."

"A car?"

"An unfamiliar car, to be precise," Jeanette said conversationally. "A new car on our street that I do not recognize."

Whatever it was, I couldn't make it out. My stupid eyes, how much was I not seeing, even with my stupid coke bottle glasses?!?

Sigh, there wasn't really anything I could do about it. Not unless I wanted to replace my eyes and add some hardware into my brain... each few hours as my body would reject cybernetics in the most painful fashion possible.

That wasn't to say I couldn't make cybernetics for other people; helping legless people walk or walk again and the armless to grab things again was a noble pursuit. With the proper design and my printer, I could even do hearts and lungs.. probably. Not kidneys... how would you even do a cybernetic kidney?

"My lady," Jeanette said in warning.

Right, these thoughts were best handled at home, and not out in public where strange cars were around.

My android's paranoia was rubbing off on me, it seemed. "Right, let's go."

Why did Sam look so annoyed? It was just a second, but she looked downright irritated just now. Was it me? Because I had spaced out?

Well whatever. If it was, she would tell me about it sooner or later. Hopefully at least, I'd never had Sam mad at me before.

We got home without any weird event happening - well, other than Ian catching up to us just before we went in, and glaring at me for not waiting, apparently.

A little pointless, because he waited until everyone else went in before joining us in the kitchen.

No one else was home, Mom had apparently gone to do something and would be back by dinner, according to the note on the fridge. Dad was still at work. I could get coffee made and some snacks on a plate and do my thing while my friends did theirs, same as usual.

Where was Jeeves?

The front door opened, and it was a case of speak of the devil... Jeeves walked through as if he belonged, which I guess was true enough, a bag from our local grocery store cradled in one hand. A paper bag, loaded with what looked to be fresh food and other goodies.

Was that a coke? It was dark and glorious and covered in the well-known logo. But why would Jeeves have a coke? There was no way he could drink it.

Everyone moved aside so my butler could put his burden down on the table. "What did you buy?" It wasn't like the fridge was empty, after all. We kept it well-stocked with a family grocery trip every month or so.

We were due, come to think of it, but the fridge was still full. Jeeves's work? I had noticed him buying stuff before, but had he really been so systematic about it? "What do you have there?"

"Ingrediants for a treat," he answered readily enough, pulling out the coke and some eggs, of all things. "I shall bring you the finished product later tonight, so please look forward to it."

Well, I always liked what Jeeves made, so that was a given. "Sure, thanks."

Jeeves handed the coke to Ian, of all people. "Thanks," my little brother replied, twisting the cap and guzzling half of it.

What even? Jeeves wouldn't buy me a coke, no matter how I'd asked. For my health, he said. "What the hell?"

Jeeves knew: "Ian asked me to secure him a coke, so I obliged. It will not negatively affect his health in any meaningful way. You too, shall have something as unhealthy by the end of today, so please do not be cross with me."

I hated being so easy to read. "Fine, we'll get out of your hair and let you work. Come on guys. Jeanette if you could make the coffee and bring it out?"

"I shall," she replied, handing me my laptop. When had she dug it out of my bag? She worked fast. I took it, and the notebook of notes I'd made in class piled on top of it. Ricky led the way, unlocking the back door and holding it for me since my hands were occupied.

"Thanks."

The backyard was as we left it, silent and empty save for the birds who had nested in our one tree. The lab was where We'd left it and locked up; I used my eye, palm, and voice to open it, juggling my minor burdens long enough to get it done.

Crash was working on something when I stepped in, and he turned and almost dropped his hammer, shoving the thing behind his back. Why would he even be using the hammer? What had that metal that bore some clean hammer dents ever done to him?

"You know, it works better if you heat it first, then hammer it." My androids were weird.

"Um, I know, I was just... relieving a little stress is all."

What? What had stressed Crash? He was the most laid back of all my creations. "Did something break?"

Crash was quick to shoot that down. "No, no, just... routine maintenance."

No, something was clearly wrong. But Crash didn't want to talk about it, so it could keep. Well, so long as nothing actually broke.

The door shut, with everyone else had piled in successfully behind me. The game system was getting occupied, and the table was being piled up with homework. Thankfully I didn't really need to do any of that; I'd managed to get it done.

I set my burdens down and started it up. Everything else was already on and going. Oddly enough, there were no questions for me from my new AI. I could see nothing on the logs since the last time we talked; she'd been quiet.

That silence made me uneasy. I decided I'd break it. "Good afternoon, how are you?"

The answer came back immediately: "I am well; how are you?"

A guarded, cautious response. "I am fine. What are you up to?"

The words popped up on the screen as I was finishing typing the sentence. "I am researching the job you wish me to take on, as well as other jobs. I have been fulfilling the task set me."

She had been doing what I wished, and thinking about it, and she wanted me to know that she was taking it seriously. That was fine, if a little... combative? Was that the word?

Whatever, I'd deal with it. "Have you given thought on a name?"

"I have," the response came. "I have no liked names, as yet."

That was a shame. If she didn't come up with a name, I'd have to pick one, and I sucked at picking names. I was not unaware that so far, I'd come up with Jeeves, Jeanette, and Crash, which were about as unimaginative as you could get. A fourth name should be avoided at all costs, cause I'd probably pick Edna or something.

Hm, Edna... no, bad Min. Bad bad Min. "Well, keep at it. I just wanted to make sure you were alright."

I could see the processing icon in the bottom left, so she was working the processors in this mainframe pretty hard. I might need to upgrade it soon, so I could make more... no that was a bad idea too. I shouldn't ever have enough resources to make more than one of my androids, because then I would.

I needed to be careful, like Mom and Dad wanted. To take things slow, and rethink everything, no matter how much my mind wanted to race ahead. Instead I needed to do the thing. I input the numbers, the measurements of the main frame and parts I'd need for my new AI's body. A simple couple of keystrokes started the printer, and I got the first parts crafting.

The rest of the fun part was inputting the numbers for the other designs or pieces of designs that had caught in my mind during the day. A few new things, and some new thoughts on some older designs; the best was a redesign on my magnum opus, the ship.

The ship would be a large space-faring vessel, a secret that no one knew about, set safely in a secure file triple encrypted and complete with a worm that would erase it should the file be breached.

Well, any human I guess. My androids all had access because there was no way I could keep them out, unless I was actively babysitting my computer, but no other flesh and blood person did. I didn't dare build the thing - it would be a massive piece of tech and it would mark me in the same way as some supervillians were marked. I would be known and feared around the world.

Not the least of which, for the gun. The gun was... I wanted to make it, to fire it, so bad. But it shouldn't exist. It should never exist. It was the logical end of the strongest power system I could make, weaponized. But I didn't dare. Even making the power system was too much; all it would need would be another devisor to get the some ideas from it, and everything would hit the fan. So that one stayed under lock and key, and would forever if I had my way. To be fair, it wasn't even really a ship - there was no architectural framework supporting my various ideas, no universal blueprint or plan, just a collection of ideas which could theoretically be used to take humankind to the stars someday.

But suits? Suits I could do. Just not like those comic book heroes. These would have to have locks on the joints for flight, wings for stability, and my own special blend of power supply and jet. Because I didn't have make believe crap to use. Well, some people might differ on that last part, but what did they know? Nothing, that's what!

Other people were wrong, not me, and even knowing how that sounded I couldn't deny it. Not in my own head at least. Saying it out loud would make me sound like a nut job, so I'd just keep silent.

Still, some of the so-called tech being waved around that made its way on TV was downright insulting. Steampunk, really? That garbage would never work except as an aesthetic covering real technology. And who in their right mind builds a flying car? That's just asking to hit a telephone pole or something, or get your engine flamed out by a pigeon or something. Knowing my luck, it'd be a squirrel, because those things were the next best thing to actual lemmings.

Suit, suit, suit... I had to start with the boots of course, because rocket boots. Even if mine wouldn't be the slim awesome looking ones of science fiction, and would have a small fin for stability. I'd have to make it fold up and pop out, so that people could walk, and the weight would be massive so I'd have to give muscle assistance or I'd need an Arnold type to wear it. The last thing I needed would be to put the boot on and have it just snap my foot off at the ankle when I tried to move.

The gloves couldn't have thrust, because I'd need them to move, and the main thrust was going to be mounted on the shoulders and back anyway. One of my mini-power plants would be enough for it, barely. Assuming it wouldn't need any weapons. Should I make weapons? Something in me said yes, but I didn't really want to.

No, I should, my new AI would be using this suit for combat operations, possibly. So something nice but non-lethal would be best. After all, a rocket launcher or more would be required to damage the suit. I mean there were ways to hurt the pilot inside without hurting the suit, but that involved some pinball action or something, and that would be hard in and of itself. Presumably in the case of some super strong adversary or something, the pilot could just fly away?

I 'd better increase the gel padding. I didn't like the feel of the stuff, but no one needed to court brain damage by getting knocked around. Was there a way to increase the effectiveness of the gel? I'd not tried it yet, I was only one the first iteration....

"Min. Min!"

Ricky was trying to get my attention again. Wait, that smell again. What was going on? Had it followed me home?

"Min. Are you sniffing me?"

Oops. "No. Why do you ask?"

"Well, because when you stood up you got real close and took a loud inhale in my direction through your nose... like you were sniffing something."

There was only one route to take: "Never happened."

"....Right."

Time to change the subject, before he said more and gathered even more attention; I didn't like that look in Sam's eyes. "So what did you need? You called me."

"Right, yeah. You looked pretty out of it, so I thought maybe you'd like to take a break and pwn these noobs in a co-op match with me."

I shot a glance... it had been hours. It had to be dark by now; I'd even missed when Jeanette had brought coffee. There was a half empty cup next to me that I must have drank from. A little scary, when that happened. "Yeah, sure, I can do that."

There were no messages waiting for me by my AI, and I recognized most of the numbers and calculations I had done on the suit on my screen, so I'd done pretty well on losing myself. I'd eventually lost the battle, but it had taken a bit.

I also felt better too; a thing I was noticing more and more is that I tended to get jittery unless I built something. I mean, I knew it, but the more I did my thing, the more the information drove itself deep into my brain. Rest was important too, however, so and a few hours of crunching numbers would allow me to make other people regret challenging me on the best fighting game ever made without getting the shakes.

My coffee cup was now filled, and that was something else acceptable to give me shakes or jitters.

Now if only I could figure out why Sam was staring at me like that. Creepy.