Question A brief history of my summer mutation.

Alright, so. I think I've cleaned up this one enough, at least the first few chapters. Please keep in mind, that this is the first thing I wrote since my sort of almost triumphant return to the writing world. Constructive criticism is as always, appreciated. And please, enjoy the tale. (Did I really start this in 2012? Wow.)

Genetics has always been as much art as science, ask anyone. From the moment those special proteins gravitate towards themselves, following a special recipe no mortal can as yet, read, any organism subject to the vagaries of such fate mutate. The truth is, not a single creature, plant, or even, yes, human...is the same as any other.

Nor are they the same as any other throughout all of history. There is always SOMETHING different from another; perhaps a peptide regarding proper growth in regard to eye rods is stunted due to a minor mutation caused by background radiation; resulting in an eye that might be a slightly different color than it would have been, and slightly less useful night vision than another person in the same family.

Or an Rna sequence could be blanked in a chromosome, causing the aspartate to be manufactured to a greater or lesser degree in the brain, and therefore providing a case for how two different people in the same environment since birth, think differently in the first place. Ack, I have a tendency to ramble now; I'll try to watch that, sorry.

My point was, genetics in particular and science in general make no distinction; we are all mutants. Great (like that champion fellow perhaps, or that guy that breathes fire in New York) or small (like you, having 'striking' eyes) the universe makes no distinction, nor value judgments; despite this, the universe is a cold and dangerous place, in which certain individuals have more of an edge in survival over those generally considered 'normal'.

In the interest of history, and with all due mental faculties bent toward impartiality, I will attempt to chronicle such general mutations as I have encountered, and my own in particular; the purpose of the tale to point out all the inconsistencies and fallacies inherent in the human condition, and to endeavor all mutants (for I reiterate, we are ALL mutants) to understand that we are all one people, with the same emotional basis and thought template as any other on this planet, and perhaps others.

……

Beginnings are tricky things… even now, I can't be sure when it began. I know when I first noticed it of course, but when it first began? What if it was percolating days or weeks before? What if, the first sign I noticed was merely the end of the cascade of changes that began innocently and painlessly days, weeks or months before? Could better detection change the outcomes of myself and so many others with the same problems? Bah! Again my attention wanders, and the focus of thought is diffused into another of many prisms, to scatter like light through many colors and variations. I REALLY have to watch that.

At any rate, the beginning I noticed was a simple stumble, hardly a big indicator of what was on the way. Just a simple stumble while running during a baseball game, after I hit easy triple into left field. Not even enough to send me into the dirt, just enough to slow me a little and cause one of those 'what the hell?' moments, as it seemed as if I'd tripped on nothing at all. Not that I let it stop me of course. Sliding into home plate just to add a little insult to injury, I accepted all the high fives and fist bumps.
"Well done Myrc. We're in the playoffs now for sure!"

Yes, of course that's me, Myrcial; 5 ft 7 inches, 135 lbs of lanky muscular Scot/Irish American freight train, rolling over any and all competition. The name means mercy, and it's ironic, because I have absolutely none when someone tries to make fun of it. Being a 14 year old sports prodigy isn't always fun; I quickly check my phone and review my list of mental curses.

"Coach, can I miss the after game huddle? I'll be late if I don't hurry." Coach Reynolds, of course, grins, the sadist.

"Sure thing Myrc; tell Coach Howard hi from me."

With a wave I start my hike from the baseball diamond to the gym; since my freshman year started, I was enrolled in both the Paris public schools'(Go fighting weasels! Why weasels? no one knows.) baseball and basketball teams. In the matter of two short months, we'd gone from last in our division to near the top, and most of it, I'm proud to say, was due to me. However, it was a lot of work and practices. Today it meant another hour on the court before I could do all the homework I needed to get out of the way.

Now as any athlete, good or not, can tell you; that much constant practice and work gives you a wonderful idea on how your body works. How fast you can move, how high you can jump, how long you can run before shambling to a halt, gasping for air… all these are things an athlete, a true athlete, know. (For more on what is or isn't a true athlete, see bowling.) My work, my labor of love, was enough to tell me right away that I had a slight problem.

A difference in how I walked, that hadn't been there as early as a half hour prior. There was no pain, no injury that I could tell, and yet, an ever so slight limp, a slight roll starting in my right hip. Perhaps not even enough to be noticeable… and yet I noticed. With luck no one else would, I didn't need to be benched; I felt fine.

"Time for the second round already Myrc?"

My thoughts were interrupted by none other than Pamela Dale, about 5 foot 6 inches of sandy blonde blue eyed soft faced beauty with a come hither bed room voice, not that I noticed, no sir. She was also what passes for our head cheerleader. Of course she was practicing her tumbling in the grass, as always. She was as driven in her way as I was in mine.

"Yep, and how are you on this fine day Pam?" I asked as I blew past her.

"Pretty good, the fall breeze is always amazing, until of course a sweaty jock comes near."

I laughed as I went in, shaking my head. guilty as charged of course. It was still too hot to do anything but sweat outside. Oh well, it'd cool off soon. Into the empty locker room I went, taking a quick look in the mirror to see the flushed, not quite handsome, but far from horrid brown haired badass in the mirror. Sharp features, slightly hooked nose (I broke it in a fight, and it never did heal right) light brown hair covering my overlarge ears (my worst feature). Bout of vanity later, I was dressed in my basketball uniform of shorts and jersey with my baseball uniform stuffed into my book bag, dirtying my books where it belonged.

"Hey Coach H. So what'd I miss? Coach R sends his regards."

The ever portly ever grinning man turned to me and let loose on of his trademark laughs.

"Not much Myrc, just some shot practice. That will be most of our time, Shots and passes. Some people here need all the help they can get!" He winked at me.

"Yep that's me, my nickname should be slacker." I winked back.

Wasting no more time, I got to it. While I could pass and run with the best of them, I immediately noticed a drop to my shot… my arc was off by perhaps an inch. Not enough to miss a ton, but enough to throw the shot off. I just as easily traced the problem back to my hip, messing with my jump. Luckily enough my favorite coach didn't seem to notice, spending the time correcting the shooting of those less fortunate than me. A ball hurtled into my view from my left, one which I caught at the last second.

"Think fast!"

Ricky Tanner, arrogant jock cliche number one, (about my size, also brown haired, more muscular, and a bit better looking than myself) and also a good friend… when he's not winging basketballs at my face, that is.

"You OK Myrc? you're zoning out."

"Yeah I'm fine, just have some heavy thoughts… like how you can't play baseball."

"Pfft, baseball is for losers anyway; basketball is where it's at. Now shoot that rock or admit I'm better."

"That'll be the day." I laughed as I sank an easy three pointer.

As all good things, practice came to an end. After a quick shower, with the usual jokes, innuendo, and towel snapping, it was homeward bound for me. The day was late, the sky clear with few of those white puffy clouds in it, the sun was shining, the day was almost perfect. If not for the fact that I couldn't seem to walk quite straight, I'd be enjoying myself immensely. But there it was, like a piece of broccoli in your teeth, or a pebble in your shoe. Sigh.

I crept through the door like a ninja, in a game as old as time. I made my way to the kitchen. And there she was, 5 ft 4 inches of classical aged beauty, Irish spitfire edition, eyes of jade, long hair the color of a moonless night, putting the finishing touches on a dinner of steak and potatoes, a Paige in the form of my 5 ft tall (don't tell me he wont be huge) 12 year old brother, cut from the same mold as myself (without the broken nose) and currently mashing said potatoes for easy consumption.

"Blargh!" I yelled, completing the game by making both my mother and brother jump a good foot in the air and scream in a most satisfying manner.

"Evening mom, dinner smells great."

"Myrc, I swear… wipe that stupid grin off your face before I say something we'll both regret. How was your practice and the game?"

Accepting the punch in the arm from my silent brother with another grin, I replied: "Oh, hit the game winning triple, qualifying us for the finals, and practice went well, Coach H didn't find anything to 'correct' (read yell loudly) me on."

"Good, good. How about that math test?" She half listened, spacing out. Sometimes I wish she'd care as much about my sports as my schoolwork. Maybe if I didn't suck so bad at it? Who knows?
"Well, I got a C."

I replied, hoping she wouldn't ask to see it, as I'd really gotten a C - ... not a lie, but not the whole truth either; both my parents would roast me alive if I lied to them. Thankfully, even though she looked at me cross-eyed for a minute, she didn't.

"O.K, schoolwork then mister, I'll call you for dinner. And Myrcial; no need to rush… take it slow and steady."

"O.k. mom, slow and steady." I replied, heading up to my sanctuary from the world. Once there I of course, rolled my eyes and sat my books down next to the desk.

I turned my computer on with my foot before I even sat down, waiting for the best program ever invented to load… Itunes. Many people were put off by one fact about me, not believing a jock such as myself could love music the way I did. Music, any form, as long as it was original, (none of that stupid pop or repetitive chest thumping rap crap, from classical to big band to death metal, I loved it all. Currently however, I was in the mood for some Cherry Popping Daddies, so I wasted no time bringing up that playlist. Yay, math time. Finally wondrous wondrous math time. polynomials and basic algebra for the loss.

"Myrc, dinner time!" The call knocked me out of my daze. Those stupid number letter combinations were making my head swim; I mean seriously, who gives a crap what X was? It was an X! Not a 4!… hey wait a min, was it 4? Nah couldn't be. I didn't even hear dad get home. Stupid homework.

"Coming mom!"

Dinner was excellent of course, talk was sparse (my parents did not believe in small talk at the table until after eating) and knowing looks were exchanged with disgusting regularity. Finally done and fed up with it all, I responded.

"The game went well, practice was fine, and math still sucks."

My dad, laid back as ever, raised an eyebrow and said nothing; then when mom was turned away watching Ian stick his tongue out at me, he winked. In return I gave a quick grin.
We had done this dance before, my dad and I.

"Want me to help clean up mom?"

"No, you go back to your schoolwork, Ian will help me clean up."

"Lame ass jock! Always let off the hook cause hes stupid!"

"Ian Micheal Campbell! Language!"

"It's OK mom, you can't expect too much of the geek, hes full of the dork side, twisted and nerdy." If death glares were actually lethal I'd be dead twice over. I love my family!

Taking that as my cue, I headed back upstairs for another round, this time it was black sabbath and English, both slightly kinder subjects than math. Oddly enough, the paper I had to write on Macbeth was half done, and Macbeth himself was giving up his secrets a little easier tonight when it happened. Several drops of blood fell from my nose to the textbook I was using. Cursing and grabbing a tissue from my desk, I blotted it, then moved to my nose as a small stream of blood poured from both nostrils… what the hell?

The headache and fatigue hit suddenly, like a hammer between the eyes. I looked at the clock; just after 9pm. A bit of an early bedtime, but I was definitely done for the night. I even half considered calling for mom or dad, after all, I'd had headaches before, but this was the first time I'd had both a headache and nosebleed. I wonder if my not healed right nose was acting up again, as it occasionally did. Bah, whatever, if it persists ill tell the 'rents, but no need to worry them over something minor just yet.
That thought was the last I had as my head hit the pillow.

……

"To sleep, perchance to dream" Shakespeare states, in some play or another. And boy, did I dream. Unusually vivid, vaguely terrifying dreams with subjects I've never before considered, such as planets and wormholes and diffuse temporal gravities; I didn't even know what that last bit was! Yet somehow in the dream I did, and knew it to be dangerous. In my dreams I wore glasses, and droned on about such dry subjects to those people present, none of whom I recognized, while in the background a barycentric dual star wobbled its way on an eternal trek to who knew where.

Of course the sight was breathtaking, even as my droning was causing a certain amount of glassy eyed yawnitis among those present. Even knowing it was a dream, my breath was taken away momentarily as the 2 dwarfs started inhaling each other in a cannibalistic frenzy; large streamers of gases spewing from their paths like multihued confetti as the stars themselves inverted. The sight was almost enough to make me not notice that my voice had been different; and those I was lecturing to (another discrepancy, as I don't really know enough about anything to lecture to anyone, excepting maybe baseball) towered over me like so many human giants.

But the weirdest part of the dream, was that I knew what would happen to the stars and the local galaxy… I knew it wasn't our galaxy, nor our stars, knew there was no life on any of the planets near, and knew what I was seeing; at the same time I knew I knew nothing of the temporal or quantum mechanics involved.

I had no idea what my dream was all about, it was way over my head.

At any rate, when my alarm went of promptly at 6:45am, I awakened feeling refreshed and happy; weird dream or no. I still had a bit of homework to do, but not much, and the headache was nothing but a memory. There was no blood on my pillow, so my nose hadn't bled. The sun was shining through my window, I could smell pancakes and sausage downstairs, and all was right with the world. by 7 I was downstairs, showered dressed and with books open at the table, putting the finishing touches on my English paper. Of course the way I was stuffing myself with sausages was frowned upon, but nothing was said. Ian sat beside me, a book no one forced him to read in one hand, speared pancake in
the other, silently whiling away the time till he was forced to go to school, like myself. I swear, such a geek sometimes; I loved him, but between the computers and books, he was bully fodder. At least he wasn't small or weak, while he preferred not to, he could defend himself. I shook my head, I always liked a good fight. Oh well, I had his back, like always.

This time It was my turn to do the dishes, but breakfast is always easy enough. The worst is always my dad's plate… he always wanted to use an entire bottle of syrup for his pancakes (yech!) and it always took a year to get the plate clean.

"So no practices today Myrc?"

"No dad, nothing but a little weight training, optional stuff. Can't practice too much or we'll all be sidelined."

I winced, that thought bringing up my balance issues from yesterday; Hope that crap was over with.

"Good point. So... eat enough? between you and Ian, I'm thinking I'll need a mortgage on the house to be able to pay for the food!"

I rolled my eyes, catching Ian doing the same. "Please, like we can keep up with you."

"Another good point.' mom chimed in, 'but heaven help us all, you might both be having growth spurts at the same time. Two Campbell men, hungry and growing, let loose upon the
grocer community!"

I watched amused as my father tried to act like Godzilla, stomping around the house… he could almost pull it off.

"Later family, time for the mind numbing school experience."

I ran out before my dad could start in on the Rodan impression; parents are more than a bit embarrassing at times.

I ran into Ricky dribbling a basketball down the street while walking to school; we both live somewhat close to school, and each other (a good pick up game was only a street away!).

"Hey man! Take a break, and tell me what you did for English. I was hoping, just this once, to find company in misery; he was almost as bad as I was.

"Screw that dude, tell me if you managed to score that new Avenged Sevenfold album; that first release sounds amazing."

"Heh; it's not new, it's a year old, and that's the third release from the album. But yeah I haven't burned you a copy yet; I was too busy with the stupid Macbeth paper Mrs. Holmes wanted; I'll do it later today. But… I do come bearing rumors! That rumorhasit guy stated that Avenged Sevenfold is almost done with their new album, and that it will be glorious."

The rumorhasit guy was of course, the internet, source of all rumors and craziness. I tried to stay out of the deep end of that pool; it had corrupted Ian.

"Niiiice, will you get me that one too? You know you're more up on the music scene than I am."
"Yeah yeah, soon as it comes out, I'll get it, you know me. Can't wait around or it'll get moldy. So anyway, English… Macbeth? what was your paper on?"

"You're that curious?' Ricky responded with a laugh, 'I'll have you know my paper was on how smokin hot Lady Macbeth had to be to get the dude to keep killing everyone he cared about."

"You can't be serious; Mrs. Holmes is going to fail you if you keep doing stuff like that you know."

"Hey I'll have you know it was well thought out. And if you're going to be a critic, what was yours on?"

"Mine was on how his psychological demons and impatience led to not only a disaster, but the worst form of wish fulfillment Macbeth could ever get. How Macbeth couldn't stop his own descent into madness because he couldn’t take a step back and recognize the form his insanity took."

"...Whoa man, deep...you win, you'll get an A for sure this time!"

I blinked. yeah I would, wouldn't I?

The first class of the day was science, otherwise known as physics 101 and a good way to set the tone for the sleep fest that was next class, or algebra 101. I shared both classes with Ricky and a few others from the team I wasn't as close to; as well as Ricky's arch nemesis and resident school villain, Gordo.

Now while I have no problem with Gordon Thompson (nicknamed 'flash' because of some obscure movie or other, from what I understand. He was actually a tight end known for being a bulldozer on the field… nearly 200 lbs of corn fed blonde haired blue eyed Aryan poster child, running over all opposition), perfectly willing to live and let live, due to Ricky's loathing of football players in general and Gordon in particular for some middle school slight that I chose not to remember, we got into the occasional fight or two. In fact, it was Gordo who broke my nose… twice. I did not hold this against him, but Ricky oddly enough, despite getting me into that fight in the first place, did. He had a long list of things to hate Gordo for… I saw it once.
"Hey fatass, move, you’re hogging up all the air." Smooth, Ricky. I will state again for the record, there is absolutely no evidence of fat on Gordo.

"Gordon, how are you today?”

Civility, to hopefully stop this from getting out of hand; almost no chance, with Ricky walking right up to Gordon (who was actually out of the way, at the lab table near the wall) and trying to pick a fight. But stranger things have happened.

"Pretty good Pansy, want to get dicky out of here before I destroy him?" Well, there went that plan. Almost guaranteed to have fireworks later in the day now.

"Just leaving, Gordo, need to inform the zoo about the escaped gorilla that made it's way to science class. Later."

Once we were out of range, I let Ricky (who was, oddly enough, my lab partner… go figure)have it:

"What the hell, man, cant you put that feud on a slow boil or something? Now hes going to make trouble for us by the end of the day, you know it."

"Bah, let him try, I'll kick his ass."

"Except last time he almost had you dead till I helped… and it took us both to put him down,"

"Then it's a good thing there are two of us, huh?"

My grin matched his: "Whatever… just don't see why you have to antagonize him so much; seriously, what did he do to you that was that bad?"

"You want to see the list again?"

"Oh heck no."

Mr. Welch walked into class and gave us both the hairy eye, probably more than used to our antics by now.

"Mr Tanner, Mr Campbell, would you two like some alone time to discuss your issues? Like say, after class in detention?"

"No thank you sir, we're good."

"So I can start class now?"

"Sure thing, Sir."

"Thank you. So today class, it's time to start a week long project… I want kites made of homemade materials, no store bought items except the string, which I will provide. If it flies, you get an A; if not you fail. Time to learn about how birds, bats, and planes defy gravity, as stated on pages 111 through 154 in our texts."

After a hearty class of Reading and passing notes filled with jokes to each other, and of course as little real work as we could get away with, it was time for that boring hell known as math. It was located in the classroom just down the hall, which made it fairly convenient to get to, and if you planned right, you didn't even need to go to your locker after physics.

Luckily, my desk for this hell was clear in the back, where our beloved Mr. Mullins of the droning voice couldn't see me sleep unless he actually wanted to, which was a rare occurrence. Unfortunately, Ricky was halfway across the classroom, and Pam was a few chairs down. I was stuck next to a guy known as Rolph.

Now Ralph was a good guy. He just happened to be a mutant. He was pretty obviously one, having orange dayglo hair and being just a bit stronger than us normal guys; but judging by the fact that he was still here and not out playing super hero or villain, or not taken by the gestapo loving mutant commission office (MCO for short), he was doubly out of luck; a mutant, but not one with powers, he got the best of mutant hatred and none of the benefits being a mutant could offer. I knew him before the change, as we both grew up here, before and after.

He was an OK guy, but a little bitter since his change, and I didn't blame him. I always made a point not to mention his hair (the reason for his new nickname) and call him by name. He had it bad enough as it was.

"hey Ralph, what'd you have down for question 6?"
"Keep it down,' he said, eyes ahead on our tormentor. 'I had 4. Why?"

Sonofa… if Ralph said it, it was likely true; he wasn't top of the class, but he wasn't far from it.

"It really was 4 then? weird. I got it right."

He glanced at me, then turned and looked, really looked. "Yeah,' he replied in a weird tone of voice, ' you got it right."

That… was plain creepy. After giving him a return 'wth?' look, I started paying attention to Mr. Mullins droning while graphing some polynomials. X = 2, X = -3, etc, etc. Boring.

"Dude, wake up. seriously."

"Huh? Oh, thanks Ralph. I owe you one." Again with that look of his.

"No problem man, just try not to fall asleep in class."

Oh well, off to the next trip into dreamland, Geography, where we learn of places that either won't exist in a week, or shouldn't exist at all. Wheeeeee. While dropping off my books, I took my usual furtive glance around the zoo/prison… nothing too dangerous in sight (like one blond gorilla). Lots of bright plumage and petting at this zoo… oh well, on to learning about France. I wonder if Mrs. Carson would just let me be 'sick'? I mean, it's France!

She didn't go for it.

Fourth class, my favorite, though one I don't share with too many of my friends...gym. Coach Howard was in charge of my hour of gym, and he usually just let me shoot hoops - which might explain why my shot percentage is as good as it is (57%) in our games. It's not practice… really! Just shooting.
"Hey Myrc, up for a game of horse? Coach already said OK."

"Sure Bernie, just let me warm up a bit."

Bernard 'monty' McGowan, my basketball teams power forward; I didn't hate him, but didn't exactly like him either, he was a bit of a general hating jerk; Muslims, Arabs, mutants, you name it, he hated. apparently not the Irish though. Too bad there were no rules about being a jerk on the team, but I'd been 'ordered' to get along with him, so I would.

Several games of horse later (what can I say? It was fun!) with my awesome self winning all but once, showers were hit. Ralph walked in to to change; being a mutant he wasn't allowed to compete in sports, so he usually just picked something solo to do; today his choice was to run around the track, searching for the elusive 4 minute mile. A decision I can agree with, if I could have gotten away with it...it was a nice day. But, as always and with a saddening regularity (I swear you could set your Ipod by it!)
the words started.

"Hey rolph, quick put a bag over that hair, my breakfast is coming up!" Bernard shouted, shoving Ralph into a shower stall door. Ralph just looked at the stall, saw it was empty, and went in to shower. Even if he didn't object, that didn't sit well with me; words were one thing, physical stuff another.

"What the hell man… do that again, and we will have a nice long private discussion. Get me?"

He looked at me like I'd grown a second head. "You like that creep?"

"I like tolerance, and you staying on the team. Make no mistake, I won't start any fight. But I will end one, every single time."

I really hoped sometimes, that most teens weren't like I'd been seeing since starting high school; it was beginning to test my faith in human nature. Nothing but judgmental hypercritical crap, with round pegs getting hammered into square holes till they fit… I really hope that it gets better out of high school, at least. I'd already fought several rumors regarding myself, not the least of which was that supposedly I was gay. (I wasn't of course, just a closet romantic.) The best way to fight rumors of course, is to ignore them when able, and bury fools who tried to tease you over it, hence my 'end all fights' creed.

"OK man, relax. It's chill." He turned to Ralph, uttered a completely insincere apology and walked out, shooting me a glance on his way out the door. I waited till he left, shot Ralph a victory sign as I walked by. He in return gave me that stare again. Creepy. Speaking of gay, maybe he was… meh whatever, no business of mine, after all he can look, but not touch. If anyone only Pamela or Chrissy get this sexy package! Well, maybe Monica… but first lunchtime! Feeding time at the zoo.

First time I've actually been hungry for cafeteria food. I swear, this strange stuff that I could swear was growing, or moving, or worse… never looked so good. So grabbing my share of it, I quickly settled to my usual table. I was last to join as always; Ricky, Bill, Rich… pretty much the entire basketball team was here, with the baseball team right next to our table, and cheerleaders and assorted other popular types on the other side. Yes, I was one of the 'in crowd', whatever that meant.

"So mystery meat that looks kind of like chicken nuggets, green crap that might be the so called 'vegetable medley' and mashed potatoes. 5 bucks says I don't barf it up."

"I'd take that bet, but I feel you're suckering me."

"Oh I am, Rich. Stomach of cast iron! I only fear corrosion."

"Corro-wha?"

"Corrosion! otherwise known as rust."

"You can eat that crap man? I think it moved."

"Unless you want to trade your lunch of the inevitable pbj Ricky, yes, I do intend to eat this crap. Pretty hungry today."

"So how was gym? Still pissed we aren't together for that, I have to deal with some upper class-geeks and Gordo, and the only thing they ever want to do is play dodge ball."

"Heh. It was OK, till Monty stepped out of line, where is that… oh. he's hiding over there."

"What did he do now?" Bill chimed in. He fancied himself our on court team leader (which was ironic, cause no one really listened to him on the court, or at least I didn't).

"Oh was just harassing Ralph, which is stupid, cause Ralph is pretty tough. Pissing him off is like asking Gordo to a dance or three." Ricky glared at me a second, then grinned.

"And I bet you just had to step in, right?"

"Yeah you know me, always looking for a reason with some people." He snickered.

Turning, I addressed the baseball team. "So, first game of the rest of our winning season is tomorrow! You guys up for it?"

Amidst assorted cheers, I caught sight of Gordon, leading the football team like so many baby ducks to their table by the window. I waved, and he scowled. Damn, still angry about this morning I guess. Catching his eye again, I shrugged. Hurray for non verbal communication! He nodded, message received. Eating, I let the conversation flow around me, not taking part. I finished just as the bell sounded (did I mention how much I hate that noise yet? If not, consider it mentioned). Almost done with the day, only two more hours in hell, then a bit after in purgatory. And this hour was the hour I do most of my homework, so I don't have to later. Study Hall, win win for me.

The zookeeper for our study hall was Mr. Mullins, of the droning voice and boring numbers. This situation did make it easier to get a hold of him for math help, but seeing as how he couldn't explain anything at all, it was a double edged sword at best. Besides, only the truly evil teachers assigned homework on Fridays anyway. So his was the text I opened, ready for more polynomial action to work it's sleeping magic.

Except something was wrong. Very wrong. Instead of seeing the numbers crawl across the page in their usual slow march… they danced. They danced, spun, skipped, cavorted, flying across the page with reckless abandon, whispering their universal constant secrets to me. There was something graceful and timeless in their movements as they interacted with each other.

I shook my head, that couldn't be right! Numbers couldn't be cool, or make perfect sense, I couldn't have… finished reading the textbook, cover to cover? I looked again in disbelief. In 40 minutes I had done my homework for algebra, then proceeded to read my textbook… all of it. Like a daydream, I had only the fuzziest memory of what it said… but I did remember it, might even remember it all. And there, between pages 64 and 71, were several drops, almost a small pool, of drying blood soaking into the pages. As if I hadn't even felt the nose bleed and simply read on in a haze. Which come to think of it, I had.

What. The. Hell.

I was losing my mind somehow.

The bell ringing broke me from some very unpleasant thoughts. Last class then out, Then I'd get some help for this, and hopefully not get committed for being crazy or something. Of course, I forgot my English text, then had to run to get it before the bell rang. As I was running, I noticed the limp I'd had the day before was more pronounced now, I almost swayed as I moved! Weird, and still no pain. Yet… another… something. I don't know, had a thought and lost it… hate when that happens. Oh well, at least I'm not late for English. And my paper might get an A! An almost unprecedented event.

It didn't take long for me to gain some notice from Mrs. Holmes; mainly due to the fact that I actually participated in class. Macbeth is actually a fascinating character once you think about it; such an honorable man led to an ignoble end from his own ambition, woven into a trap of evil of his own making. She seemed impressed. Told me I was wrong, but seemed impressed all the same. But like a dream almost, it ended, and it was time to collect Ricky and head to the weight room for some lifting.

Good jocks, regardless of the sport they play, always lift a little. It adds strength and stamina, and done right, won't decrease speed or agility. The key is to work the right muscle groups. for basketball and baseball both. I needed arm strength, which was why I was focusing on my arms and shoulders today, with Ricky as my spotter. Then we would trade off. A light workout, twice a week, once for arms and shoulders and second for legs, had done wonders for me since I started this last summer. So back into the gym clothes and away we went. Of course, the weight room at school was also the domain of the football team.

The trick to surviving in a zoo, or a prison for that matter, is simple; never smell of fear.

"So ready to help me break 120 today?"

"Sure,' Ricky replied. "You ready to help me break 140 today?" I rolled my eyes.

"If you do that, you're going to need a different spotter. Should I call for Gordon?"

That earned a punch in the arm, and rightly so. The expected thing started as soon as we walked past the gym into the weight room.

"So, you two decided to show up here, huh? Sure are brave."

"Gordon, please give it a rest; we aren't here for you."

"Yeah Gordo, just go away and play with your knee pads or something." Oh hell, tell me he did not just say that. Judging by Gordon's red face, he had. Well, here we go...

"Flash! get out here, Coach Reynolds says scrimmage in 10!"

"Ok Coach H, just leaving."

I felt cheated. I mean sure, we picked this time and day mainly to avoid Gordon, but we had a good fight brewing there!

"You two going to be OK in here? need any help?"

"No sir, we got it, thanks."

"Ok, yell if you need anything. And Ricky… you shouldn't bait the bear, son."

"Yes coach H, sorry coach H."

Coach Howard looked at us both before sighing and leaving the room. I kind of understood how he felt, but at the same time, that was a good fight we had brewing! Soon the happy thoughts of a good scrap were sidelined by something else though. As Ricky was setting up the cd player (inspirational music is a MUST) I set the weight and experimented.

"Ricky, double check this for me." He looked at me oddly.

"It's right man, 110. Having trouble?"

"Wipe that smirk off your face, I just wasn't set right I guess. And yes, I know I'm supposed to wait for you; since when has that ever stopped me, wise guy?"

"It's OK man, you can cuss, it's just us here."

"You know I don't like to do that," I set myself correctly on the bench and gave them a good shove. 'Though I might have to… did Gordo mess with the weights?"

"Move, let me try."

He lifted it easily, no strain on his face at all. What the crap was going on? I've been able to lift 110 for months with no real problem; I thought I was ready to try 120 today.

"I don't know man, if anything it feels light. Seems fine. Try again?"

"Darn right I'm trying again, showoff!"

I once again positioned myself under the bar, make absolutely sure I was set correctly and… nothing. I couldn't even budge it.

"Okay, I'm confused."

"Hold on a sec man, let me try something; just walk over there a minute; no peeking."

"Whatever." I went where directed and once I was sure he wasn’t looking, checked my arm; did my biceps seem smaller...?

"OK man, try this."

I went back to the bar, positioned, and tried. This time with effort I was able to get the weights off the bench and press them, with effort. It was pretty obvious what he'd done.

"How light did you make it?"

"70 pounds."

"70...!' I put the bar back, and began some of the best curses in Gaelic that I knew. 'what the hell is going on here? I was at 110 just last week!"

"You feel OK man?"

"Yeah that's the odd thing, I feel fine. No pain, no feeling of something torn, not feeling sick."

"Well I think it's safe to say something is wrong, and you should see a doctor pronto."

"Yeah, safe to say I can't spot you anymore; I'll see if the 'rents can get me in to see Dr. Halleck."

"Sure you'd rather not just go to Logan? I mean Dr. Halleck is just a small town G.P. when you get down to it, used as a sports doc or no."

"Who would know more about some type of sports related injury? Dr. Halleck or some fresh college grad?"

"Good point, So you're sure it's sports related?"

"No, but what else could it be? If it was a disease pretty sure I wouldn’t be suffering alone. Ah screw it, I'll just wear the gym clothes home; they need washed anyway."

"Dang you’re full of good ideas today, why waste the time, right?"

"Right."

We split up with one block to go, the friendly banter almost driving the whole weight problem from my mind. Almost.

"Hi mom!"

"Hi Myrc, how was school?"

"Good except I think I'm sick or something. I couldn't lift today for some reason."

"Pulled muscles?"

"Maybe, but I kinda doubt it, not feeling any pain."

"OK.' She turned from dinner (a rather tasty looking lasagna)to look at me. 'Dr. Halleck?"

"Yes please."

"Consider it done. Monday is likely the earliest he will be able to work you in; you OK to play tomorrow?"

"Quit with the googly eyes mom, I feel fine! this is more to figure out if my arms are going to fall off or something. And unless that happens tomorrow, I'm playing."

She looked at me a bit oddly but relented; "As long as you don't strain yourself fine… but any hints of injury and I'm pulling the plug."

"Done. need help with dinner?"

"No, you need to do your schoolwork. Go."

Thus banished, I retreated to my room, and brought out my books. Hmm, that was odd, my math homework was finished. Must have done it in study hall. Score! Meant the only thing I had to do was read a chapter in geography, all weekend. Some people double check their work; they are called wusses. Hmm, if I do it now, I won't have to look at a book all weekend!

Dinner was a slightly strained affair, I'm guessing mom told dad that I might be sick, and dad didn't want to jinx it; he didn't say anything, but spent his time staring at me. by the time dinner was over I'd had enough.

"I'm fine dad, really."

"Homework mister, and after that take it easy. Don't leave the house, and call if you need me."

"OK mom, sheesh… not a baby anymore.' She pointed. 'Yeah yeah, I'm going, I'm going. Guess Ian gets dinner dishes again."

He glared death at me; I'd no doubt interrupted his halo 2 time or whatever.

Once back in my room and relatively safe from death glares, I realized something; I'd read the entire Geography chapter already. Shrugging, I figured it was therefore time to follow mom's last order and "take it easy". Unused to having time on my hands, I decided to simply search the web, looking at stupid stuff like cat pictures or silly videos. The first thing I hit upon was some YouTube video with some weird robot…

Alright, next bit. one chapter and two side-stories (which are stories that take place at roughly the same time as some action or another by the main character, and yet aren't known by them. The objective is to give an alternate point of view.) I changed the order of them slightly from the original posting; ARNEE appears first this time.

Sidestory; Arnee's adventure.

ARNEE (Autonomic Robotic Nanotechnology Experimental Engine) powered up from sleep mode at 7:46:23 am local time on Friday, January 1rst, 1999 according to it's internal chronometer. Immediately according to programming, it ran its diagnostic checklist and checked its solar cells. All systems reported green, and the solar cells were fully saturated with morning sunlight. Next order
was to scan it's surroundings. So it did, noting it was outside its primary users (I.E. masters' window, on the roof of 118 North Cedar, Paris, in Paris county. Running a short shakedown of its legs, it then proceeded to walk carefully to the edge of the roof while pirating a quick internet connection through WIFI. It downloaded a local aerial view through Mapsearch, finding that while there were no primary matches to locations it had been programmed to seek out present, there was a suitable secondary location only 3.8214 miles from its' current position.

A large hook suitable for Sword-fishing popped from its housing in ARNEE's posterior, attached to a spool of fishing line designated for similar use. Still devoting most computation cycles to planning its route, it devoted exactly 4 cycles per second to tamping the hook into the rough surface of the roof tile with a posterior slam (it sat down on it) then tested the hook's dig and the line itself with a tug. Once it was sure the line was secure it jumped, using a hidden razor next to the spool in order to cut it precisely
5.184 feet down, as calculated (so as not to leave a trail readily visible to most humans, as per directive .

Its' camera lens (the remains of a cheap digital camera) and infrared sensor (from a video camera) scanned the world around it for threats, absently (a mere 2 cycles per second) cataloging the material rich environment it had been made to create in. the grass did not interest it at all except as a potential obstacle or camouflage, and was dismissed. The wooden fence however, was an immediate obstacle flag. The map suggested… there! to the right, a break in the wall called a 'gate', open, leading to a 'street'. Carefully scanning for humans and threats, once again per directive 8, ARNEE made its way out to the sidewalk. Finding the even surface to it's liking, it deployed RC car wheels and set speed at a careful 14kph (courtesy of directive 6).

Visual scans did not reveal many humans out at this time, and those that were were behind metal shapes identified as 'cars' and 'trucks'. A possible source for the supplies ARNEE was directed to find, but mobile and too spread out to be of immediate use. Not having been programmed to avoid any other life form, exactly, pending threat assessment, ARNEE did not, leaving a trail of hissing cats, barking dogs, and spooked squirrels in its' wake as it spun and maneuvered with the precise grace of a racing champion… at least till it met Rex.

Rex was the first unchained dog ARNEE had met, and he stepped in ARNEE's path, a large Rottweiler concerned about the strange thing invading his turf. ARNEE, noting the size, formidable natural weapons, and musculature, decided Rex was a potential threat and at a mere 3 feet away initiated subroutine 1 of directive 8; avoidance.

Displaying more of that amazing control that would make a car proud, ARNEE promptly stopped on a dime (literally… one was there, it noted), executed a straight 90 degree turn to the right into the road, and once again started forward momentum, cycling speed up to 30 kph, or half throttle, it spun on its
axis while keeping forward momentum, to scan behind it.

Rex was of course, following, thinking ARNEE would make either a nice treat, or play partner. Thus began the first real incident in AI/dog relations. It did not take long for the sounds of panting to come into auditory sensor range. Deciding that 30 kph was not fast enough, and based on data accumulated
decided it had 122.4 yards before the predator caught up; ARNEE came to the conclusion to tax its motors and nudged his speed up to 45 kph, resetting scan frequency to avoid any accidents with other moving objects and rejecting the idea of stealth entirely, but keeping to the road in order to further
discourage pursuit.

Motorists that morning were treated to the sight of a small powder blue blur, whirring around, under, in some cases jumping on top of their vehicles like a demented figure skater on speed being chased by a large silent rottweiler (Rex had long since given up barking in favor of breathing). The foreign object
left a vague spider like impression on the shocked populace, and then in the next second it was gone.

Poor Rex was not overjoyed; He did not have the mobility to skate around the cars, and so lost sight of his new playmate rather quickly. ARNEE on the hand, beeped victory as it skated on. Reconfirming directive 8, he angled off the road into a convenient set of hydrangea bushes. Reconfirming directive 6
brought it's dwindling power reserves to attention; luckily it was 22.438 minutes ahead of schedule in its assignment, not counting the estimated 3 hours given to locating a suitable location for itself.

This meant of course, that directive 9 could be applied, and ARNEE wasted no time scanning a suitable location to hide and deploy it's solar cells. Luckily no one saw the rose bush in front of the Jones outlandishly over manicured home magically grow a solar cell array. ARNEE estimated it needed a
charge time of roughly 4.23 hours of charging to hit full capacity, but only 42.18 minutes to re-reach the point where reserves would be acceptable. It decided on the latter option, as it knew the later the time, the more likely the chance of discovery. It had been told so by its primary user, during its
mission briefing.

Luckily for the canny explorer, none came to disturb its' sleep mode power gathering. Thus at exactly 42.18 minutes later ARNEE chirped awake, took stock again, and once again saw all indicators in the green. Being even more cautious this time, ARNEE peeked around every corner before sprinting to from cover to cover.

A very slow 19.23 minutes later ARNEE was outside his destination with no further mishaps en route. The aptly named Paris junkyard, complete with a mini Eiffel tower out of rusted iron girders. ARNEE might have been surprised that it shared a certain lack of appreciation for the sight; considered an eyesore by the populace at large, all ARNEE saw was a waste of resources.

Unfortunately, to properly use those resources ARNEE had to make it past the rather large and sturdy chain link fence. Motoring around and scanning the obstacle, It detected no convenient holes. Lacking the necessary tools to dig ARNEE decided that even though that was the easier option, it would have to cut its way through. Choosing an area of high molecular degradation due to age, which also happened to be rather far from the gate and therefore less visible. ARNEE deployed its tiny laser, originally from an old toy and juiced with a small argon chamber to give it the necessary cutting power. A few small cuts and the laser was expended, but the job was complete and ARNEE squeezed through the oblong hole it created, silently creeping on its legs with wheels retracted, as the terrain was unsuitable.

ARNEE used a combination of directive 8 and 11 to determine the next move. He headed for a nearby rusted hulk of a semi, hiding under it for a moment, sending furtive scans in all directions. After a long moment in which tumbleweeds could drift, had they been so inclined, ARNEE used the left front wheel
rim to climb into the engine block.

Finding the near claustrophobic space filled with metal, rubber, plastics, and other wonderful materials, ARNEE settled in to begin phase 2.

Chapter 3.

This time, I woke to what appeared to be a darkened airplane hangar or warehouse, some large building that I couldn't see the walls of. Inhabited by many shadows, all with yellow hardhats on top of their silhouettes. Oh, I'm dreaming again. Off in the distance, the shadows were constructing something; they looked to be taking large boxes from one tarped… building? It looked tall enough… and carrying the items to another cloaked thing and plugging them in or stacking them. I watched for a moment, amused. I have been having the weirdest dreams lately....

"Hey you! Yeah, you!" A female silhouette with a dark red hard hat walked up to me; I couldn't tell anything else other than her gender, and that she was about my size, just a bit smaller once she got close enough. She spoke in an over the top 'joisey' accent that couldn't be real, and wasn't, of course.

"You the boss?' She asked loudly, and I got the distinct impression of a gimlet stare. 'Yeah that's you, you're the client. Well come on, come on, I may got to give you the tour, but I don't got to take all day at it."

Still a bit bemused, I followed her as she led the way closer to tall shapes. She led the way to a table just in front of them, pointing to a set of architects' blueprints laying on a carpenters' table. Depicted on the blueprints were two forms, also silhouettes. One tall, one small with curves like my weird foreman...? Foreperson? Forething?

"So here we are, as you can see we've had to do some on site modifications to make our deadline and keep our budget. All OSHA certified, of course, completely safe! Absolutely. The power plant is in,' She pointed to the smaller figures' head. 'and showing almost 40% capacity already. That's good. On the other hand, the bundles here aren't fully moved yet. We're a bit behind on those." She was pointing at the larger figures' arms and legs.

That got my attention.

"You have questions? One second; hey, you! dummy!' she pointed at on of the workers. 'Not that one, the other one! you don't pull the right one, he feels all the pain in the lower right quadrant! You want him sidelined for the big game?!?"

The worker, which somehow managed to look sheepish despite having no face, went back to pulling out a box to the right of the one he was pulling out before. The forething turned back to me.

"Don't worry, they aren't all as stupid as this mook; we have you covered. So, your questions?"

"What is going on here, exactly?"

She cocked her head. "Really? You don't know? Why renovations, of course, got the plans from the chief architect itself! Got to follow them, bad things'll happen if we don't. It's OK though, don't worry, it knows what it's doing… mostly."

"Why does this fail to reassure me? OK, I'll bite, what does the finished product look like?"

"Ah, a great question; the answer is, no one knows, not even the chief architect. It won't look bad though, I've seen the plans!" She gestured to the table behind her. As soon as I was distracted looking that way she muttered something.

"What was that?"

"I said, that there might be a few minor performance glitches. You have good ears."

"What kind of performance issues?" She put her hands behind her back and whistled in a classic pose that spoke of a child getting her hand caught in a cookie jar.

"Don't worry, don't worry! Me and the boys already worked out a good fix for most of it, and OSHA certified, just like I promised! we're good like that, and after all, the power plant is nearing 40% capacity! That's really really good, it ensures our fix will work Well… mostly. One second: You!, Yeah you, sweep this trash up! These bone fragments are everywhere, and a hazard! Someone could trip! OK, you were saying?"

"I think I need to talk to this chief architect of yours; know where 'it' is?"

"It's around; you sure you want to talk to it? it's a really unreasonable sort of thing."

"Yeah I'm sure; I'd rather avoid any performance issues if I could."

"OK, well don't say I didn't warn ya; just look behind you."

Like a moron, I looked, and there it was, the largest blue and pink Watson and Crick double helix ever. But alive, as if Godzilla were a living tentacled mass of D.N.A. And on top of this squirming cyclopean mass… a huge maw with shardlike teeth. My 'foreperson' and I shared a long look before she spoke.

"What? I didn't make it that way."

Then of course it grabbed me and started to pull, hauling me towards it's stupid looking mouth. Panic only barely begins to describe what I felt that moment.

"Myrc, look at me! Focus!' All trace of her ridiculous accent was gone as I struggled, in its place was a slightly harried but soothing tone one might use on colicky children. 'you can't stop it, neither of us can… but it doesn't have to be bad; I promise you, it can all work out! so just calm down, relax, and take each day as it comes, OK? Please? Can you..."

Then the maw swallowed me whole, and I knew no more.

Till I woke up of course, an unreleased scream on my lips and the remains of panic in my heart. Glad I held it in; screaming at the top of my lungs would have been pretty embarrassing. It was… morning? The sunlight shining through my window certainly seemed to announce that with finality. Last I remember it was just after dinner, and I was messing around on my computer… but my computer was powered down and all my books were stowed. I was out of my gym clothes and in pajamas, and the only thing I remember about the intervening time was a strangely compelling dream which was even now fading. Something about New Jersey… heck, no wonder it was a nightmare!

So, almost nine, the wonderful smell of homemade waffles in the air, and only a few wispy clouds on game day. Not bad at all. Unfortunately, I ruined it by moving. My limp had settled itself, I noticed right away… by one hip deciding the other had the right idea; now both were acting the same, forcing me to swing my hips to walk at all.

Moving to the bathroom was another mistake, as one look in the mirror convinced me my nose had shrunk… but at least it no longer looked broken. Very straight, very small, with one of those little upturns at the end. Something else was wrong with my face, but I couldn't pin it down. At least I still looked mostly like myself. After a quick awkward shower where I stared anywhere but down at myself while I soaped up and rinsed off (and hoped this wouldn't become a trend) And I was out, where I noticed the third and fourth major difference.

Toweling off actually hurt. And not a little hurt either, but a nice solid chafing that throbbed. Secondly my uniform, my beloved uniform, no longer fit. I could barely pull the pants over my apparently now huge butt, and the cuffs were now too long. The shirt mostly fit, but of course it itched terribly all over my torso, and the sleeves had too much length. Just perfect… I was losing size too, somehow, yet getting fatter? I stepped on mom's scale (a leftover from her diet days, when she had us loving kids and
dieted to lose excess weight) and I weighed in at 120 pounds. Again… what the hell? That was a loss of around fifteen pounds, I was sure.

Even the faded dirt and grass stains were in the wrong places… let's see, about an inch here, and maybe 2 inches there, and the shirt seemed longer… Reviewing my cussing lessons in my head again, I decided that de nile was more than a river in Egypt, and if I didn't see it yet, no one else would. A perfect way to deal with the fact that I was becoming a large carnivorous dna worm thing, at least for today.

Thus bolstered, I walked bold as brass downstairs.

"Morning mom!" Great, another shock, though this one was more mild and less mental health threatening; my voice, never the strongest under the best of circumstances, barely responded at all, as a rather wispy whisper. Odd, out of all the things happening today, my throat felt the least treacherous. Stupid body, turning into a mutant worm. Stupid me, for thinking up the mutant worm thing… where had that even come from?!?

"How are you honey? You OK? You look… different. And awful. I think a visit to the E.R. might be in your near future."

"Honestly I feel fine. I think I know what's wrong with me, and I don't think it's anything that the E.R can help."

And just like that, she was in my face, concern etching lines on her own, making her look much older in an instant.

"What do you think it is?"

"Are dad and Ian up? I don't want to have to say this twice. I don't think there is any cause for your alarm though; I don't think its any life threatening disease or anything."

In a way, it was kind of worse.

"what's a disease?" Dad asked, walking in from the garage, Ian in tow.

"Oh,' I replied while snagging a plate and piling it full of waffles. 'I think I'm a mutant with G.S.D., and I'm busy changing at the moment."

"..."

Great, I had them speechless. then all at once, the dam broke.

"Cool! Can you do anything amazing yet?" Ian.

"Are you sure?" Mom.

"Well, you do look a mite… different.” Dad.

"Different? he looks like he shrunk!" Thank you, Ian.

I held up a hand. "It's kind of easy to explain why I think I'm a mutant, but it all boils down to what Ian said; what other kind of body problem leads to a loss of height in just a few days? If you'll all look, its pretty obvious." And it was… to prove it, I moved next to my mother; we were staring each other in the eyes, something that was impossible less than a week before.

"Yes I see it now… and you look a mite more like your mom than you used to. A lot less of my own distinctive good looks."

"Are there midget mutants?"

"Get bent Ian. Seriously."

"So why do you think you have G.S.D.?"

"What is G.S.D.?"

"Gross structural deformity; a polite way of saying you now look like a freak of nature. And it's the only thing I can think of that explains massive body change; Most mutants don't change much at all."

"Well to be fair, I don't think that structurally you have changed all that much; you could be done."

"Mom, I don't look that different to you? You think shrinking and getting fat are valid mutant powers? Are you smoking pot again?"

She sucked in a breath while Ian grinned. He only thought it was funny because he didn't suspect mom had been smoking when she had him; at least not yet.

"You promised never to bring that up again. I'll forgive you this once, but another mention gets you grounded."

Dad chimed in to derail Mom before she could get started, just in case. Mom could be scary when she wanted.

"Hmm, come to think of it, this might explain the mess in the garage. I thought Ian did it, making those derby cars of his.”

"A mess in the garage? I don't think I've been in there since last Monday when I mowed. We got time, I want to see."

I got up and carried the plate out with me, chewing all the while, almost daring mom to get mad… she gave me a look, but let it slide. At least, I thought she had. She must really be worried.

"You said something about getting fat? Do you think you should be eating like that if you are?"

Or she wanted to needle me back. She whispered at least, a fact which I was thankful for.

"I can't help it, I'm really hungry… and my waist isn't larger I think, but check out my butt. I barely squeezed into my pants… I really hope I'm not going to sprout a second set of legs or something."

She checked and poked. Dad and Ian did not notice.

"Mom! What the hell!" I hissed.

"I don't think you'll have to worry about a second set of legs." she said, giving me another good once over. Her look was weird; I couldn't place it. I was getting really sick of all these stares, but I knew they were likely just beginning. Sigh, Ralph, and me. Well, if I ended up with funny colored hair at least we'd match.

Then I caught sight of the garage.

"What hit this place?"

The entire space was filled with tools discarded haphazardly, little scraps of wood and metal (none bigger than a dime) and a workbench loaded with papers… schematics. It looked like dozens of them. I didn't want to admit it, in the face of my dads' displeasure, but at least a few of them looked slightly familiar. He looked at me and asked, though.

"Well?"

"I'm sorry sir, I think I might have… but I don't remember it."

"Well son, I'm not mad, yet, but I'd really like to know what required the motors out of half my power tools, a stack of my power tool batteries, and half the engine from my project car… and where all the missing stuff is."

"...What?" I looked again; most of his black and decker power tools were in fact stripped, the lithium ion batteries missing… and my dads project car (a 1973 barracuda, black) looked like gremlins had torn apart the engine, throwing pieces as far as five feet away carelessly.

"I'm sorry sir,' I tried again… 'but I really don't know what happened here, I can't remember. I'll try to fix or replace what I can, as soon as I can. I promise."

A Campbell kept their promises. His gaze swept past me a second, to Mom behind me, then back and softened.

"OK son, I believe you. You will, however, put everything back, and replace what you can, as you promised."

"My brother, the mutant mess maker." Ian snickered.

"Laugh it up, ass. I can still take you."

"Language Myrc; and Ian, be more considerate, please. Your brother is going through a rough time."

"Yes mom." we chorused.

"Alright, you can go to this game, but afterwards you clean this up and take an inventory of what's missing to start. I'll call Dr. Halleck and see if we can get him to make a house call."

"Thank you sir."

"Come on Myrc, I know a few tricks that will make your changes a bit less noticeable,"

I followed her out. "Is it really that noticeable?"

"To someone who doesn't know you? No… to someone like us or Ricky, or your class? I'd say absolutely. Don't worry about it, we can make you look enough like you for there to be no problems; with a little work people will know something is different, but not what."

"Best I can hope for I guess. Mom, you ever know any mutants?"

"No Myrc, I haven't; you'll be my first."

I looked into her sunny smile a minute before it hit… then I could feel myself grin back, just a little. She ruffled my hair, something she hadn't done for years; not since she had to reach up to do so. Then she stopped, almost forcing me to run into her.

"What? something else happen?"

"No, no, don't panic… nothing new is going on; just old habits coming to the fore."

"It's OK mom, felt kinda nice."

She shook her head, taking me into the master bedroom, otherwise known as 'where kids dare not tread'. I gave her a look as she plunked me down on her chair in front of her vanity.

"No arguments, sit, and watch."

And under her gentle hands, now no smaller than my own somehow, my old face was reconstructed. She put the break back in my nose, and it looked a bit larger. She also did something that added volume to my chin, and something to my cheekbones. Through all of this, I watched, fighting a wave of the most intense boredom I'd ever known. It was like sitting in class, or playing a computer game times one hundred, and came on suddenly; one minute I was enjoying my mothers' company and love, the next I was fidgeting like an ant on sun-drenched concrete.

"Myrc."

"Sorry mom, you say something?"

"You zoned out for a bit there, something wrong?"

"No! No, just really, um...."

I looked down at my hand, realizing something was in it. Mom's blush. My other hand held her lipstick. I put them back so quickly they rolled all the way to the mirror.

"What were you going to do with those, hmm?"

"I, uh, don't really know? I was thinking of extracting the talc to do something with it…."

"Myrc, do me a favor. Don't 'extract' my make up, OK? Some of it is specially made."

"OK mom, sorry, I don't know what came over me."

"It's OK honey, you didn't do anything wrong… yet. Just trying to make sure that you understand the action would be a bad one. You've already angered your father after all; you broke his third child!"

I laughed, then blinked. Honey? where had that come from? She always just called me by my name (well, nickname) before...

"Come on, time to go down and greet your public."

"Sure."

I let her take the lead, kind of nervous; I'd never worn make up of any kind before, and I felt the weight, a solid drag on my face. I was half convinced I'd look stupid. I mean, what if someone noticed? Those fears were soon proved groundless, however.

"Whoa bro, looking ugly as always… can't tell a thing!"

I looked between Ian and my father, searching their eyes for any hint of deception or planning. I saw none.

"It really looks fine? Like I'm normal?"

"You look like you, Myrciel… and no talk of not being normal. Mutants are fairly normal anymore, after all; remember that fracas over the summer?"

"Yeah I remember."

It was true, in the days of my fathers' youth, mutants or super-powered beings of any kind, really, were far less common than now. Not that they were common, but certainly more common and well known then the 'dark ages'. Perhaps even common enough for some acceptance. As for the summer, how could I forget?

Then I remembered Ralph. Here, yet not here, in a perpetual limbo. Distant, with only one person I knew that treated him with anything resembling respect or equanimity; myself. Well maybe his family too, I didn't know. Not all families were as understanding as mine was after all; even now I could read the concern in their postures though nothing but love and support shone from their faces. That very moment I determined to find out more about Ralph's life; to see if he had the kind of help he needed, the kind I was sure I already had. Then I frowned again.

My parents knew, like I did, that whether I was a mutant or had some horrid disease (or both, another possibility) that this would be my last game; I'd never be allowed to compete if I were a mutant. And if I had some weird disease we'd never heard of, well chances are I'd die from it.

There, I said it. Denial over, hopefully never to return. Focus on the positives, as my father would say. My family was also placing worry aside, in order to make this day special for me; who really could ask for more?

These thoughts circled my mind like hamsters on a wheel as we wordlessly and without further ado piled into mom's car (she had the wonderful 2001 late model sport utility vehicle we called the tank, while dad was stuck with the white ford focus) and we drove the admittedly short distance to the baseball diamond behind our school. We arrived with a mere 10 minutes to get ready; apparently the make up took longer than I thought. Looking around, it seemed that everyone was here; the entire school, most of which I recognized, as well as some of the other schools' children, checking out the competition I'd guess. Parents and kids of all ages, walking, jumping, and running around with abandon, enjoying the balmy day and the prospect of a day spent not doing anything in particular. None of them seemed to pay any special attention to me, for which I was grateful.

The true test, however, was coming up.

"Hey Myrc, was beginning to worry!"

"Ha, sick, but I wouldn't miss this for the world Joey."

"Dang right you are man, can't hear you at all, what happened to your voice? laryngitis?" I nodded, not like it's a lie, for all I know it could be true!

I made it into the team huddle, and nodded to coach Reynolds. He took one look at me and asked immediately: "You OK son?"

"Hes sick with laryngitus." Joey answered for me helpfully. I nodded again, not wanting to talk more than I had to, to keep up the possible charade.

"You're here to play? You look a bit rough; your parents know?"

I pointed to them. They waved. I waved back.

"Good enough for me. Alright we won the toss, we're up first. lets do this, Myrc you lead off."

Shrugging, ruthlessly suppressing my stomach lepidoptera, I grabbed my bat and strode up to the plate, As soon as the game start was called I set myself (I'm a lefty) and tried to look crazy, to intimidate the pitcher. I don't think it worked well, judging by the fast ball that came in inches from my face. Reasonably fast, but I caught the motion; hmm, in between, 82 and 87 miles per hour, angled to make me start. Next likely pitch is a curve or a slider, angled low and possibly away from me to make me chase. Wait, what? Never mind, focus! hes pitching!

I watched it come in, reading the curvature by the arc of his arm. A fast slider, low and away as I thought. I stepped into it with a textbook swing, and hit it an inch from my bat tip; sending it out to mid-right field. Unfortunately, it was only mid field. Even worse, While normally I could run moderately fast, today I felt much more slow. The end result of these two factors was I only barely succeeded in a single, not my usual double or triple from such a perfect shot. As I stopped, panting, from my sprint I saw coach Reynolds frowning. Hopefully he wasn't too mad.

Considering how good we were, it didn't take long till I was trotting home; I wasn't quite the best bat on our team, that honor went to Darrel White. I was simply very good. My strength was my field play; I was a pretty good shortstop. Well suffice to say, I may be looking like myself, but I definitely wasn't playing like myself. I had no problem at all in calculating angles, getting a perfect jump on the ball in batting as well as fielding. But physically I was always a step late and muscle short; my throws
barely reached anywhere, with almost no velocity at all, and I could barely hit into the outfield.

The end result was I did manage to contribute to our win, but I had play things safer than I liked; I never did strike out, but was limited to base hits and sacrifice plays as opposed to home runs. My play as a shortstop left quite a bit to be desired, but I only really screwed up once, when I couldn't throw a ball to home plate, letting the other team score. While we celebrated as a team, I mourned. I had lost my physical prowess… maybe I was just actually sick, and I'd get it back? My theory could be wrong after all, I only had anecdotal evidence.

"Myrc?"

Here it comes. "Yeah coach?"

"Don't beat yourself up, you played well. Honestly, you did great. I've never seen you read the ball so well."

"Thanks, coach."

Pretty sure he was just saying that to make me feel better… but it worked.

"Victory party at Pizza Cabin!"

I waved and pointed towards my parents, coach saw and nodded. My family closed ranks around me like a personal gaurd detail, dad to the left, mom to the right, Ian in the lead.

"You have an emergency appointment with Dr. Halleck at Logan."

I nodded, after all that has happened, it was obvious no simple clinic visit was going to be enough. I was mildly curious as to why Dr. Halleck was meeting us there at Logan medical center, as he was just a simple country quack, wasn't he? Oh well, I'd find out soon enough.

Almost as soon as we had all piled in the car, I started feeling very sleepy. The car ride did it's magic, lulling me none too gently to sleep. If I dreamed, I don't remember it.

I woke up from being jostled, finding myself being put one of those medical examination beds. The air around me reeking of disinfectants and the lights blinding, it took me a minute to remember what was going on. Oh yeah, I was dying. I was in a typical hospital room, single; bed and table, television in the corner that wasn't on.

"How are you Myrc?"

"Pretty crappy doc, how are you?"

"About the same, can't complain. So what symptoms are we looking at?" he and some other guy in a lab coat were setting up some weird looking machines in a corner. I squinted, only barely able to make them out, even though it was… well I couldn't tell, but 20 feet away at most. One was sized to fit a human inside though, like a magnetic resonance imager.

"Well, I've either shrunk or am shrinking, loss of strength and speed, getting fat, and I apparently made car and tool parts disappear; And the newest one is I'm apparently going blind. Who is your friend?"

"Oh that's X-ray. He's what is called a devisor, he makes medical scanners that can come in really handy, and he owed me a favor."

The guy came closer, close enough to see finally as he started pasting leads on my head, without a word. Tall, at least 6 feet 4 inches, rather well built, lantern jaw, unshaven, with green eyes and brown hair streaked with silver. He looked maybe 25. I didn't see a ring, I'm guessing he cleaned up at the bars, if he knew what a bar was. He had a sour look on his face, however.

"Not a people person, is he?"

"Not even a little bit, but that's fine because his machines here are going to tell us what is happening and why, and in less than 30 minutes!"

The sourpuss interjected; at least he could actually talk.

"Only for most of it, the DNA scan might take longer."

"Why?"

He stopped a second and looked at me as Dr Halleck escorted my family from the room. They were about to start attaching leads in some very embarrassing places.

"what do you mean?"

"I mean, why does it take longer? Is it a processor issue? A database issue in matching the right sequences?" Rather reluctantly I pulled off my wonderfully dirty sweaty uniform.

"No, it's actually a combination of both. This scanner uses most of its own processor power to run the scan and record all the information, So it sends the data to my mainframe. My mainframe analyzes the results and sends it back. The long delay is mainly due to the amount of information involved."

"So do you send the entire code there and back? That seems wasteful; why not just send the entire code there, and then send any rare differences back? seems that would save a lot of time."

He nodded, conceding my point.

"It probably would, if my database were large enough. But it isn't yet, and as a result if I do that, I may miss some evidence otherwise."

"Good point. how big is your database?"

"As good as the human genome projects is, plus my own. At the moment, a good 20,000 subjects. Not quite enough by my standards yet, though hopefully yours will help."

"As long as you don’t steal any DNA to make clones of later… I'm all for it. That was a joke by the way; no need to start frowning at me! Give me a break, I'm nervous."

"True, my apologies, though your joke was in poor taste. Into the machine please, and do not move. And no talking, that is movement."

I climbed in, then heard Dr. Hallecks' muffled voice.

"Cards?"

"Sure. Poker?"

"Sounds good, I'll deal first."

I hated them in that moment.

The machine whose clutches they had left me in had few tender mercies; I was poked, prodded, sampled (one time I'm sure my spine was tapped) and generally had every horrendously uncomfortable test I could have. The less said about it, the better. Really. What was really torturous was that I was still tired, and it kept me up!

Then a small chime rang, like an oven timer. Darn it, I'm not fries! I am so going to....

"You can get out now."

Crawling out of the claustrophobic space I fixed him with my best glare: "You have REALLY got to work on your bedside manner. No help for a terminal patient? An oven timer? What the hell?"

I looked; my family was in the room, they were playing cards with Dr Halleck while X-ray was reading a pamphlet of some kind, not even paying any attention to me at all. My family was tense, Dr Halleck looked like he had a new insect to play with, and I started to feel the pressure.

"...What?"

But I hadn't been asleep at all! When had all this happened?

"Dude, you've been asleep for hours,' Ian informed me: 'We were beginning to think we'd have to rent a room from the doc."

"It's true Myrc, you were out for just over two hours; we had time to translate the gobbledegook that X-ray's machine spit out for us." DR Halleck added.

"And they told us already, honey." Mother looked concerned, father looked very uncomfortable. And there was that 'honey' again; though I didn't mind at the moment.

"Let me guess: it's cancer… or an aneurysm."

X-ray snorted, still not looking up.

"You're not dying, though it's interesting what the multiphasic spectrometer came up with; for example, you've never had a prostate, and your appendix is multi-functional. Though what it's doing..." he trailed off to incoherent mutters.

"Your bedside manner REALLY, REALLY, sucks. Do I need to resort to violence here?"

He looked at me deadpan and stated: "Congratulations, it's a girl."

I looked at him, then down at my body.

"You high? pretty sure I have what you have there, buddy. Though maybe mine's bigger..."

Then mother was there, gently forcing me into a chair.

"Myrc, don't be rude, even if the man's an ass.' she shot him a glare and continued, 'Hes telling the truth, however, we've had a few people look at the readouts, even re-calibrated his machine. It always gives the same results. Genetically you're a girl."

I felt, on top of feeling like my world was tilting, a little weird. Possibilities and probabilities suddenly caught fire in my head, a type of haze or fever, and I had to ask. Both feelings seemed oddly incongruous, at odds with each other, yet harmonious, as if one brought the other.

"How is that even possible? Do you have anything concrete?"

X-ray handed me the pamphlet he had been studying… it was the results of the tests; my entire genetic code, summed up in a sort of cribs notes. I… understood that. I could read some of it at least, so I started to.

"You see there?' he pointed to highlighted portions, 'You entered puberty a bit late for males, nearly a year ago by best guess. The problem is your puberty was a bit different than normal. Tell me, have you heard of that old wives tale about all babies being born women?"

I nodded, still reading.

"Well it's false. Males and Females are genetically separate, assuming nothing is abnormal according to current human standards. For the record, abnormal includes rna transcription errors and some of the older stable mutations such as different peptide combinations in the brain leading to different sexual
tendencies and proclivities, etcetera, as well as hermaphrodites and such. Babies are normally androgynous at birth, and develop along gender roles at puberty. That is 'normal'.”

I could hear the quotes.

“Well, in your case, the old wives tale holds true. You have two X chromosomes, perfectly represented...but one of your chromosomes had its function partially turned off, leaving one line of your second X dormant. So while genetically female, you were biologically male for all intents and purposes. That all ended shortly after you hit puberty.

For some reason, when your body started producing Gonadotropin or GnRH to start producing body hair, it acted as a switch… your second X chromosome fully activated. So your puberty was obviously a bit different than that of a normal male. Instead of testosterone, your body started producing large amounts of estradiol; this was further complicated by the fact that for you at least, most of your mutations are located in the same part of your genetic code… the part previously
turned off. Once it became active, all the abnormal genes followed suit, and one of those mutations is a rather low level regeneration; I'd say according to the current scale used, a 1 or a 2. Certainly no more than a 2."

However, that regeneration was enough. I could see it now… without regeneration, my somewhat anomalous physiology would go no further than say, hormone shots and some other medication, and I would live a perfectly normal life. With it involved, however, my traitorous body looked at my genetic code and reproduced it faithfully, carrying the new orders involving what my body and puberty should look like, according to the newly active genes; there was apparently a huge difference between the two.

"I see you understand. The truly fascinating thing is the loss of mass; your regeneration, from what I can determine, turned your entire bone structure into a cartilage similar to that if a sharks'… and is currently ferrying mass away from it, in order to comply with whatever your new height is supposed to
be, for example. Its amazing. Never have I gotten such readings of what actually goes on inside a body as it mutates."

"so wait, my skeleton is shrinking of course… so are my tendons and ligaments? That would explain much of the loss of strength, as not only the simple machine numbers change but also the joint tension...."

I grabbed a piece of paper from him, one of his pens from his lab coat, and started scribbling the required equations to figure out the difference. He blinked. I ignored him as he prattled on; I had to finish this. For some reason, it was important.

"And that all but clinches it. Dr. Halleck, Mr. and Mrs. Campbell, I'm all but certain your child is a devisor of some kind. The changes are by no means complete, though they are proceeding exponentially now, and have been for at least a week. My best guess is Myrc will be ready for testing by the end of next week, and I'll schedule one if you're willing; I have a few contacts with the facilities."

My nose was bleeding again… irritably I wiped it away from my calculations and finished them.

"There. It doesn't completely cover the estimated strength loss though..."

"How do you feel, honey?"

"Oh, I'm fine mom, just ravenous and very fatigued.' I sighed. 'There is no way to reverse this. I can tell there isn't. I'll be a female within the week. If not for the stupid regeneration… ugh."

"It'll be OK honey, everything will work out."

"Thank you for your time doctors, We'd like to take our children home now unless there is anything else?"

Good old Dad, keeping the meeting focused.

"No, of course… let me give you my number, please call me if there is any help I can give; I have your number now, and will call you with the appointment details. One last word though; burnout. That is the name given to a condition where mutants, usually those whose powers are still emerging, strain themselves to violent and sometimes explosive results. Many cases heard in the news of mutants going on a rampage or exploding were actually burnout cases. Now I saw no evidence of this, and regenerators don't often suffer this problem, as they are buffered somewhat by the ability. But it remains a condition to be aware of."

He grabbed my shoulder, and looked at me, really looked at me for the first time.

"Don’t overdo it, please."

I was a little too shocked to be coherent.

"Yeah, uh… OK."

"See you next week." he waved.

Damn, he waited till the end of the visit to be human! What was with that? I did notice the walking on eggshell pronoun usage everyone was doing; he started it off, on purpose maybe?

I looked to my dad, who still looked decidedly uncomfortable. He was not alone in this, but he needed cheering up. I assessed the situation… and came to what I felt was the proper conclusion.

"Dad."

"Yes Myrc?"

"Food. Now. Right now, and in large amounts." I grinned.

He gave me a ghost of a grin back… but it was something.

"Sure thing Myrc...pizza, since you missed yours?"

"Perfect, Dad."

As soon as he turned away I dragged mom aside.

"You should call X-ray back and get Ian tested as soon as dad is distracted." I whispered.

She paled, but nodded. Hey I didn't like the implications either, but it had a 50/50 chance of affecting Ian too; after all, that weird X chromosome had to come from one of them, right?

Oh well, too much heavy thought. Time to enjoy pizza, off-color humor, and sleep. Too much of that heavy thought stuff would drive anyone insane.

Sidestory; the first conversation.

(File taken from the files of X-ray, a devisor in the employ of the CIA, obtained under the freedom of information act. Said file is to be appended to the journal mentioned above in the interest of being as thorough as possible, in the hopes that future generations will be better informed about the psychological motivations of the subjects involved.)


"Kinder to let him sleep for now." X-ray stated as the fatigue seemed to catch up to the young man he was introduced to as Myrc. Halleck was quick to nod.

"Agreed, though how he can sleep in that thing is beyond me… a better question might be how is he not a twitching screaming mass of pain."

"Simple, he can sleep due to the fatigue; His body is experiencing a rapid transformation, and heavy fatigue is common enough in normal puberty. The second answer is the same as the first; slower puberties are typically painful off and on as growth occurs. His body is protecting him from massive amounts of pain by switching off his pain receptors somehow; otherwise we'd have to sedate him. Quite a marvelous adaptation really, to have even partial functionality while undergoing a transformation of this magnitude this quickly. The pelvic bone reshaping alone...."

"Well… it's certainly better than some of the other options. Think we should have our talk now?"

"Certainly, no time to waste,' He opened the door and spoke into the hall. 'You're free to come back in, he's asleep."

Lance corporal (retired) Archibald Campbell walked in, followed by Agent (retired) Marigold Campbell and their second son, Ian Campbell.

"Well? How bad is it?" Mary asked her two of her oldest friends.

"Definitely mutation, as you thought, and severe. Myrciels' EEG and leptin counts are insanely high. Judging by what you told me, it's all but certain he's a devisor of considerable power. Preliminary mental stimulus tests pin his IQ at near 300. There is no telling how high it will be by the end; her brain is actually refolding or rewrinkling itself… and making the visual cortex smaller, along with the auditory system and olfactory receptors. They are already much smaller, and the excess space made is already more brain. Or pardon me, more cerebral cortex, or thinking brain. And all of it, new and old, seems to have almost double the ganglia of a normal brain.”

Archie Campbell asked X-ray; "For the record, how does that compare to you? Or most devisors?"

"My own IQ is in the 200 range; most devisors are a bit more, or around there. Usually it's the power itself that adds the effect; What devisors really do as best as anyone can tell, is locally ignore certain laws of physics around them, in much the same manor of mages. As long as the explanation makes some kind of sense, the device can be created, such as Dr. Arclights' anti gravity platforms or the death rays you see commonly now from just about everyone. To be honest, your child scares me. Never have I seen such strong readings, from anyone; not even the icicles."

"Careful what you say X-ray, not everyone is cleared here."

"Quite right, quite right… at any rate, her ability is scary, but is coming with its own share of problems as well."

"Wait a second;' Ian interrupted, 'you keep saying 'her'."

"Yes, getting you all used to the idea; her transformation was easy to deduce; she will be fully female by the end of the week, with no complications expected on that score. The real problems are medical. Most devisors are hardly at the peak of physical health, but few have few purely physical issues. in other words, most are out of shape, if physically fit persons otherwise.

Myrc's scan revealed something unusual in that respect; the beginning of an unusual form of anemia; her iron count in her blood is low, and I suspect dropping. Untreated this could lead to random loss of consciousness, coma, possibly even death, though I believe the regeneration will save her life should the condition progress that far. Treatment is easy, iron supplements, high iron diet, and potentially medication and transfusions. Oh that reminds me… here, she will need this."

He passed a box to Agent Campbell. Agent Campbell gave X-ray a hard look.

"Anything else, or should we get to the real talk we need to have?"

"One more thing; Some devisors have a deidricks, a form of mental illness that leads to bouts of megalomania; you'll need to watch her for the signs; I believe you both know what they are. Also, most devisors tend to enter a sort of fugue state just before they build something; Don't be alarmed if you see it. You can break them sometimes, but not necessarily all the time. It's not advisable to break them that often anyway; there is some research to support a correlation between these states and the strength of the mutation; or devisor gene itself. In Myrc's case, being too gung ho about breaking them could cause her harm… I just can't say yet, but it's something to be aware of."

"Noted. Now what do I need to do to insure my child is protected?"

"Oddly enough, from past villains and organizations, you should be clear. Most of those type respect the 'no families' rule religiously. Only the most rabid are likely to try, and those even the villains will ostracize or seek to kill in retaliation for such actions. The real issue is governments and the mutant commision office, I'd say. For those, I can and will help, and if you call in a few of your other favors, 'facial'… you should be able to keep her as safe as anyone can be on this dirtball. If all else fails, you could try Whateley."

"It's far too early to think about Whateley; Myrc is likely to be a mess physically and emotionally for some time to come, and I wouldn't send an enemy into that place unprepared, let alone one of mine. Perhaps after some time to adjust. But for now, I just want her safe from any odd disappearances. That would not do at all."

"Ah, heard the rumors about the MCO and the rest of the alphabet soup? I've heard the same ones. Suffice it to say, 'I know a guy'. I'll call him, you call Terrance like I know you plan to, and we can get them both assigned to this case, watching each other, and know the situation will be handled correctly.
between that, the DOD, and the VEEP, we should be fine."

"Good, I'd hate to suddenly remember things I'd forgotten."

"It's too bad the lummox over there can't help."

"Careful Ray, I've kicked your ass before, I'll do it again." Archie took a threatening step.

"Yes, that will certainly help; perhaps you can also run away from this world yet again? You'd only have to leave a child behind this time."

"Ray. Stop it now."

"...Sorry Mary. I guess I'm still bitter. Any thought as to what you're going to tell them? One really needs to know a few things, and the other is currently hanging on our every word."

"As little as possible; neither know anything, and if Ian talks about anything hes heard in this room, he will live to regret it."

Ian wilted under the combined stares.

"I won't say anything, I swear. So um, Myrc's gonna be a girl?"

"Yes Ian, Myrc will be a girl soon."

"heh heh heh..."

"Archie… I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault Mary, it couldn't be helped."

"Helped, perhaps not, but we both know it's my fault nonetheless. And for that I'm sorry."

"No, none of that talk now.' Halleck spoke up; 'Only useful dialogue here. Are we all agreed on this course of action? For the record I am, I think Myrc can only benefit from the experiences to be learned in this town, and free of the stifling atmosphere of Whateley."

Archie spoke up: "Yes I think we are all agreed. One other thing, though; school?"

"I think it's obvious she will have to call in sick the week; it should be possible to hide her new condition by having her pose as someone else if you want."

"Calling out sick for the week is acceptable; Hiding though is out I think. Too many have already seen just enough to put two and two together, should we try to feed someone a silly story and hope for the best. If the villagers show up with pitchforks, well, we just call Frankenstein's monster."

"Surely you don't mean..."

"Myrc is my child; if I have to I'll call the devil himself."

"Are you sure Mary? He'll be a target then; a large one."

"That's what the Whateley option is for, but I refuse to let a bunch of ill-mannered hicks run me or mine out of town without a fight. Besides, Myrc is made of sterner stuff than most. Just a feeling I have; this is the right decision."

"OK, all agreed then. Time to wake the dreamer."

Going to bed as soon as I was stuffed with pizza was a must; I just couldn't shake the fatigue of my body, though my mind seemed wide awake. For some reason, numbers and computations kept running through my mind like demented zombie sheep, refusing to die. I'd never dreamed of numbers before, and I was pretty sure I didn't like it… but I was also sure I didn't hate it. I woke up with the clear impression that my mind was going, and a mild feeling of fatigue that was miles better than last night. This time of course, there was some blood on the pillow.

I just stared at that pillow for a bit when my situation hit me all at once, so I buried my face into it and screamed, and screamed, and screamed. Ahh, precious release. Just can't let anyone see me do that, bad things could happen.

Wiping tears from my eyes, I grabbed some random clothes (sweats, pretty sure they would stretch to fit if needed) and went to a long overdue shower appointment… and ran smack into Ian. At least I was still taller than he was; hopefully that'd last.

"Dude, you stink. Go, shower is free."

I mumbled an apology, not trusting my voice; after all, it wasn't working too well yesterday. Sigh, I needed some red bull or something. The daily disrobing of course, offered up its' plethora of daily alterations. My waist looked like I was a member of bulimics anonymous, my chest was beginning to get flabby, and my eyes… my once muddy eyes.

They were an arresting aqua color, and seemed to be faceted like gems. I knew right away they were dangerous. If I saw eyes like this on any girl before I would have been entranced; they seemed mesmerizing. As I started the shower I also tested my voice with a good old do rae me… like my eyes, it was amazing, a soprano of perfect pitch and a tonal quality. Well for a girl anyway. So many people would gladly murder puppies for a voice like this, I was possibly in trouble.

Meh, worry later, sing now. It felt good! It felt like I was scratching an itch I barely knew existed. And as a result, I took a bit longer in the shower than I wanted. Finally soaping up and rinsing off ever so gently, remembering yesterdays' pain. Far less so today, though my chest still hurt like hell.
Drying my hair in front of the mirror I received my third and hopefully last shock of the day; my muddy hair showed hints of once again trying to match my eyes… the roots were showing a different color, and it looked like the same aqua color to me. Looks like I would follow in Ralph's footsteps after all?


Once dressed in my old jogging sweats (I was swimming in them of course, had to roll up the sleeves and everything) I ran a brush through my hair twice and walked downstairs, on the prowl through the bush for food… or wallaby’s. Right now I'd take either one. Luckily enough, while there were no wallaby’s at the end of the trail, there was plenty of pop tarts on a plate, with juice next to them… and my name on a small note next to them.

"Hey Ian' I yelled; 'are the 'rents gone?"

"Yeah they went somewhere, wouldn't say where though; just that they would be back by dinner. So free house for us all Sunday! By the way;'he added coming into the kitchen, 'nice voice sis."

"You trying for a beat-down?" he raised his hands.

"No! No, I mean it… I heard you in the shower too, and I mean it, your voice is really nice."

I was pretty sure the kitchen heated up; was the oven left on?

"Nice blush too!" he added before laughing and running off.

"Ian you bastard!"

Ugh, there was definitely something wrong with me, why would I blush like that at all? Sigh, I couldn't run him down like this. Oh well… pop tarts! Om Nom nom… if there is a better food than the pop tart, I have yet to taste it.

"Dad wants the garage cleaned up after breakfast!" Ian hard yelled...could have been from anywhere; the squirt was definitely hiding.

Urk. My mess, I'd forgotten.

After about a dozen pop tarts (well… maybe 14, but who was counting? I was not, not at all) I went into the garage to look again at the madness I had wrought. Metal scraps and crap everywhere, and a gutted car. It didn't look any better the second time. Wasting no more time, I put the gutted tools away and started sweeping up the floor, where all the scraps had curiously ended up… nothing on the workbench itself. I started making an inventory of what I'd need to fix the car. The car had as yet, never even turned over, but that wouldn't stop my dad from demanding full replacements. Distributor cap, spark plugs (only one missing, oddly enough) the fan, a few of the belts… ugh, I'm going to need to mow so many yards...

I sort of woke up to find the garage cleaned nearly spotless, I don't mean just my mess, but CLEAN… like the floor was polished and the car shammied and everything. And I was scribbling something… something that looked like a weird car engine, with a list of parts to the side. A… schematic? One with accurate dimensions, and proper mathematical formula off to the side? From me?

No matter how many times I saw it, it still weirded me out. Maybe I'd get used to it later...

"You OK Myrc?"

I turned to see Ian had snuck up on me; he was watching me, leaning against the door.

"Yeah, sorry; I didn't do anything… crazy, did I?"

"Not at all, just cleaned like a demon possessed, then drew a bunch of crap; don't remember anything?"

"Vaguely, it started with thinking about the car repairs..."

"Meh, don't worry about that crap right now; come with me."

Curious I followed him; Ian never really wanted to hang with me before; something was up. He went to my room, there, next to my bed was his 17 inch computer monitor, his game system hooked in; snacks and drinks all around the 2 bean bag chairs thrown in front of it, and one of the few games I liked, the latest fighting game, already rolling.

"Prepare to get pwned, noob!"

I rolled my eyes.

"Whatever, what brought this on?"

"Well you're still sick, and tired all the time, yes? So this here is your new hangout spot, and I am your host… we will now play games all day, drink copious amounts of sugary colas, and eat massive amounts of things that are bad for us. And I will teach you the ways of the gamer nerd. Unless you'd rather go outside in your current condition?"

Argh, he was right… normally I'd be outside on a day like this, playing a sport or riding my bike or something.… can't really do any of that now. I didn't even have mom's make up on to make me look less stupid!

"OK, I see your point, hand me that controller, and the left bean bag chair, and I'm in." What? the left one was the softer one, I liked it.

"All yours. Team battle for the win, random if you aren't a wuss."

"Done."


A bit over an hour? maybe two? (Time moves a bit differently when you game I find.) The doorbell rang. I paused the game.

"No way am I answering the door looking like this."

"Spoken like a true chick, sis." he replied as he ran out the door.

I fumed; that son-of-a! How dare he! I bet if he shrank and looked like curdled death he wouldn't want to be seen either! Hmm..… my thoughts were sidetracked by the sound of voices; two of them, both raised. One was my brother, and the other....

Ricky. My best buddy.

No thought at all, I dived out of the chair and into the bed, covering up completely, just as the door opened.

"Myrc, you in here? Ian is saying you weren't up to company, but when has that ever kept us apart before?"

I cursed my wonderful new voice as I responded. "Yeah I'm here. I'm really not up to company, but if you promise not to comment on my obvious issues, or try to look at me, you can stay."

He looked at what to him, was a lump on my bed.

"Dude is that you? You sound like a..."

"Girl? yeah I know. I'm a mutant man, that's what has been wrong with me, and yes I'm one of the weird ones. I'm currently about half done changing. Yes, to a girl. I wouldn't normally care if you saw or not, but I'm sure I look pretty stupid right now. No I'm not dangerous. Now that was strike one. No more discussion on it. You want to stay? you play games and you keep it down… I might nod off. Got it?"

After a long awkward moment where many flies could have been trapped within his jaw, he nodded. Correction; this was well beyond merely awkward.

"Yeah I got it...so 'Bloodbath 4'?"

"For now, maybe some 'Drive Furious' later… but I'm getting kinda tired again, so who knows?"

"Works for me, though I'd love a nice shooter later. So who's ahead?"

"Jerkbag is ahead, as always… hes up 6 matches to 3. He always cleans up at this one."

"Heh. Well maybe I'll do better. I do tend to game more than you."

"Might change; the new me is less likely to be as active."

I cursed mentally as soon as I said it. Idiot! Giving hints was bad!

"Oh?"

"Not telling you, you'll know when everyone else does. I'll be missing this week of school; you can tell whoever you want to tell that I'm changing if you want."

"OK. Damn." He cursed as Ian destroyed him, then shot a quick glance at my still blanketed form.

"You want a turn?"

"Nah I'm good for now, you go ahead." I knew he was waiting for me to move so he could catch a glimpse; I wasn't that stupid.

I was so busy watching Ricky like a hawk, that sleep snuck up on me.

I was out for two hours; when I came two with a hyper intelligent 'snerk' noise, both Ian and Ricky were still in my room, playing Twisted Iron, one of my favorite games… sick psychotic car mayhem at its' finest. I was still covered by my blanket; luckily I hadn't smothered myself.

"Awake again?" Ian asked softly.

"Yes, awake again, sigh… this crap is getting old already."

I couldn't think about it. Not with Ricky here, and not with Ian to witness it. No, think positive thoughts, happy thoughts.

"Want a turn, dude? I need a break."

"Sure, but I'm not coming out. Just toss the controller."

I snapped it out of the air, reeling it back in and taking over. Ricky watched me play, Ian watched Ricky mostly… sticking up for me. Ugh, I hated being weak. Either way I didn't think I needed protecting from Ricky… and by Ian of all people. I mean, it's Ricky! I trusted the guy with my life! But could I still?

The gaming session continued, all three of us wrapped in our own thoughts, until we heard the front door close and my dad yell: "Dinner!"

"Ricky; out. Now. Sorry, and I'll call you when I'm ready, if we're still cool, OK?"

He stood up, no doubt paying respects to the sense of normalcy I'd killed.

"Yeah we're cool. I'm gone, enjoy the food." I heard his customary loud greetings to my parents as he made his way out.

"Myrc everything OK?"

When in doubt, joke.

"Yes mom, Ricky came over to see how I was, and guardsman Ian protected me from his evil ways. He did not see the fair damsel."

"What?"

That look from her was pretty priceless.

"In other words, I hid and we played games so he couldn't see or spread rumors about how stupid I look."

"Oh, honey, you look fine; there is nothing wrong with you…"

I wasn't in the mood to be coddled.

"With all due respect mom,' I interrupted. 'I look half finished; you know it, I know it, everyone who has seen me knows it… and everyone who will see me will know it. I'm not cool with this, I won't lie, but I'm really not cool with having a bunch of people see me when I'm neither one thing or another, but some screwed up in between thing. Not if I don't have to."

She was hugging me before I knew it, and I realized I was crying a bit. Tamping that down really quick, I looked at my dad, who was setting the table and had a large box of takeout pasta. When in doubt, joke. I grinned at my mom, looked at dad again, and opened my mouth.

"Cheep, cheep."

He looked at me with my mouth still open and I cheeped again, adding small hops. He caught on and stuffed a breadstick in my face while mom giggled, and Ian guffawed.

"So, sit, eat, we have announcements."

We ate quickly of course, I was as always famished, and I guess Ian was as well. The parents ate at a sedate pace that kind of irritated me...I couldn't slow down. stupid constantly empty stomach. Stupid genes. Stupid world.

"So,' I was startled out of my pity party, to find dinner over except for me… I was still half heartedly chewing on things within reach. 'we managed, on a Sunday, to get the bureaucratic wheels going on a few things."

She slid papers at me.

"what are these?"

"Social security card, state ID, birth certificate. The new you. The state ID has no picture yet obviously, but we will be handling that as soon as you settle on a look, you primadonna."

"Wow they work fast, and on a Sunday?' I looked at dad; 'Your doing?"

"Of course! We ex-military have some pull after all, this country still loves vets."

I looked over the birth certificate. It was fine and official, and had a spiffy new name.

"Minerva Myrciel Campbell? Where did that come from? And why didn't you just ask? I could have picked my own name."

"That's the name you'd have had if you'd been born our daughter, and well since you were and we just didn't know..."

"But..but Minerva?!?"

"Would you have rather had Boddicea? Minerva was your grandmothers' name. Deal with it."

Ian pointed at me.

"Heh heh heh HA HA HA HA HA."

"Keep laughing Ian, or should I say Elise?" Ian choked, with a look of horror suitable for seeing a movie villain crossing his features. Perhaps he could find a future in acting… or the circus.

"Hah! Revenge! Blackmail material!"

"Whatever, Min. Two can play that game."

"Ahem; we're not done you two, you can snipe at each other later. We come bearing gifts! I'll just start bringing them in. Ian, come help me."

"Yeah yeah, grumble grumble."

"I'll get the dishes mom."

"You sure you feel up to it? I'd hate for you to break my china." she said with a grin.

"Your concern is touching, but yes I'm fine, for now." I returned her grin. I had to do something anyway, or be alone with my thoughts.

So I did the dishes while the rest of the family plotted, washing and drying while just barely picking out the whispers in the other room. Once done, I quietly made my way back into the dining room. For the record, I did not creep in! I deny that categorically, and anyone who tells you otherwise is wrong.
At any rate, it didn't work regardless, they saw me coming.

The first thing I noticed was the box with the brand new laptop inside. State of the art, unless I missed my guess, unlike my current 5 year old machine. To the left my eyes alighted on were all the books. collegiate texts for all the science basics, dozens of books piled on the table. The last thing to catch my eyes was the electric guitar. A guitar of the same Aqua color of my eyes, though quite a bit smaller; a fact I filed away for later. The case next to it had a sliver of a moon and the word Luna on it as a logo.

Now I'd wanted a guitar forever. Couldn't play one, never shown the slightest bit of talent for playing music. My father could play some, and I had always begged him to teach me. Now it looked like he finally would. I'm sure my grin would crawl off my face it was so big.

"Ah, don't go looking at me like that! I'll do what I can, but it's likely you'll have to teach yourself more than I can; with my job and all..."

"But you will teach me?"

"Yes, what I can… for as long as my ears can stand it."

I didn't know what to say, really.

"Thank you all, for all of this."

"That's not all; there are some new tools and odds and ends in the garage. They are yours, and in no way mitigate the replacements you need to get for me. But, use all of it as you feel you must. And fix my baby while you're at it, and you'll get those lessons."

Impulsively I hugged him. "You're the best!"

"Yeah well, I try." He replied, holding me back at arm's length and looking uncomfortable.

I was about to apologize for making him uncomfortable when mom stepped in.

"So let's stow all this; Min's room is already a mess, don't want my dining room to follow suit."

"OK, OK." As I grabbed the computer first, I caught a the glimmer of a look between my mother and father.

"What?"

"Nothing honey, Ian will help you with the books… won't you Ian?"

"Sure, sure, I'm on it."

I was pretty sure I had seen something there. That look had meant something. Ian distracted me by grabbing the books and starting up; I followed. Once up the stairs I grilled Ian quietly.

"So what did you get? Must have been something nice to get your full cooperation."

"You know me well; I got a couple games I wanted, for my system and my computer."

I wasn't sure I liked how my parents seemed to be throwing money at a problem, but we weren't exactly hurting for it, and the stuff for me at least, had come recommended from a professional. I wasn't sure I'd use anything more than the computer. Maybe the tools, to fix Dad's car; that was all I was planning on.

"You know what was up with the 'rents? they had a really funny look for a minute there."

"Nah, you're reading too much into things sis, this is a weird situation for everyone. That reminds me, How close are you now?"

I knew exactly what he was asking.

"Truth told, I'm not sure… I hope I don't lose anymore height, this is getting ridiculous."

"Suffering from any other… shrinkage?"

That one earned him a punch, which he shrugged off easily. Stupid half-done weak muscles. I'd have my revenge, oh yes. As soon as I got to my room, I wasted no time opening the box and pulling out the laptop. hmm, dual core, The new GK version. A Vista 7600 mobile video card, 4 gigs of the new triple data rate ram, 320 gig hard drive. A true screaming machine, if ever there was one. There were some games boxed with it that I set aside. Had to move my old computer to make room for the new.

Reaching under your desk to pull computer cords is always a pain. I just yanked them, opened the new laptop. I sensed a trend here; the computer case was aqua. That had to be my Mom, and how had she even known? All the while Ian was shuttling books, giving me sour looks. I grinned at him in response, eyebrows raised. Once I had the laptop set up and powering on, I went downstairs to get my other pretty toy. Into its' case it went, and I carried it with both hands and gently set it into my cleanest closet corner. Ugh, I did not want to clean this room, but it was a mess. Maybe when I wasn't so constantly tired.

I woke in my bed in the middle of the night, realizing I'd fallen asleep after the fact. My new laptops' password determination screen was blinking at me. It was after midnight and everyone else was asleep. Meh, I was up now, and sick of sleeping… so time to set this computer up. My password… hmmm… how to make this really secure...

I woke again, this time though something was different. I remembered the night before, in all its' glory. I remember what I did, and how. It was still a bit vague, but I had no problem recalling how I'd revamped the camera software to map and recognize my eyes in order to provide security, nor the other fun things I'd done. Monday morning, 5:13 am. I'd slept two hours, plenty. I could do plenty today, but first… coffee!

Coffee coffee coffee coffee coffee coffee coffee coffee! I wanted it, craved it, never had liked it before, but was hooked now. I was in the middle of brewing a pot when Father came into the kitchen, all ready to brew it himself.

"Good morning, father."

"Morning Min… uh, what happened to the coffee maker?"

I looked back at the device in question. It had felt good to actually be able to do something, so after the computer I'd come downstairs.

"I improved it, it was ruining the coffee by only filtering it once. I decided it could do better. It takes just over two minutes longer, but it is worth the wait. Want some?"

"Uhhh, sure. It kinda looks like a small distillery."

"That is exactly what it is now father, for both the water and the grounds, and then both. Takes up 8.4% more counter space, and takes 2 minutes, 17 seconds longer to brew, but hopefully mother will like the end result enough to not overreact. oh, operating it is easy… grounds go in the funnel there, water in the tank there, the on button works as it should, and the used coffee ends up in the old coffee maker cup there."

The coffee finished brewing while I explained, and I poured us both cups. Mother came down as father took his first cautious sip.

"Wow that's really good! Really really good!"

"Oh by all that's holy, I should have remembered about the coffee thing… though that is fairly tame by their standards."

"What was that mother? You shouldn’t mutter to yourself like that. Coffee?"

"Sure, sure. Anything else you've improved?"

"No, of course not, well… the security protocols on the new laptop you got me. A password seemed to… useless, so I made a program to scan peoples' eyes when you open it up. It will only open to my retinal scan. Don't give me that look! Software upgrade is all, I didn't touch the hardware."

"You'd best be very careful about that. You break it, you won't get another."

"I know… I thought I might repair father's car though...once I drink more of this liquid ambrosia that is. Morning Ian, how are you?"

"Good, you OK? You seem pretty chipper this morning."

"I am well, I think. Going back upstairs for a bit."

As soon as I placed my coffee on the desk next to my laptop I noticed. My bed was hairy. Small hairs, on my pillow, a bit here and there on the bed. My eyebrows? I checked. I still had them, though they seemed more thin. Going into the bathroom, I saw it. My eyebrows were now just slightly darker than my eyes… not neon by any means, but a rather wonderful shade of aqua nonetheless, continuing the trend. I sighed, my head was already showing hints of the same color. My body hair was obviously KIA, right along with my muscles and size. I flopped back on the bed and did the pillow screaming thing again.

"Min, breakfast!"

"Coming, mother."

I came downstairs as Ian came back down, shower done. We both demolished the bacon and eggs set before us.

"So, honey, I'm going to be gone for a bit today, got to head up to your school and make sure they know what's going on. Your father and I got you a cell phone; the number to reach me is programmed in already as 1, the number to reach your dad is 2. Call for any reason at all, OK?"

A cell phone! Never had one before. Even if it was because they were worried about me, it was nice.

"Thanks mother; I'll keep it on me at all times. I think I'll work on the barracuda today."

My father gave me a look as he was about to walk out the door.

"How? you've no money, and are missing a few parts."

"I think I might be able to fabricate them out of what we have available. I'll have to research to make sure, but that is the current plan. Don't worry, no harm in just checking."

"Alright. Be careful though, and have a good day."

"You too. Don't let your boss tick you off."

After the breakfast dishes I went outside to inventory the materials I had available; everyone had already left by the time I was finished. My father in his infinite wisdom had gone to the local junk yard, and bought a bunch or motors and car parts from various engines, and even two full engines. Whether they worked or not was immaterial, I could use them as I pleased. Though I did wonder how my parents could afford all this crap for me; I'd never thought about it before, we were well off… but I felt a bit guilty, as well as loved. I was costing them so much this week! I had to fix this car, at least, to make all this up to them.

After the inventory, I went back upstairs to web browse the barracuda's engine schematics and performance specs, which proved to be an interesting bit of light reading. There was nothing downstairs that could be used on the Barracuda directly. So I'd need to make the parts. But how could I make the tools to fabricate the parts out of what I had? Hmmmm… inspiration struck and I began designing.


"Yo sis, you home?"

I looked up, suddenly noticing my eyes aching and the tired achy feeling I'd been ignoring… along with a sudden disconcerting jiggle from my chest. I refused to look down.

"Yes, up here Ian."

"Here, your homework for the day."

I took it, much as one would a live poisonous reptile.

"Thank you; how was your day?"

"It was alright, yours? No, let me guess, you were lost in the surfing there."

"Sort of, designing a sort of 3 dimensional printer to help me with repairing the 'cuda. I was in the middle of coding the CAD software. Sigh, out of coffee again."

He looked from me to the empty cup.

"OK, stop. You and I are going to game again. I've decided. Halo with me."

"But, I'm..."

"But nothing, this is too much like work, and you need a break. lets go, I'll get the mountain dew."

"Fine, meeting in your room. I'll start the game up. Ugh."

As I stood up I weaved some; Dizzy again for no reason at all? Sigh. I held the walls to Ian's room, and plopped into the same bean bag chair I favored. So nice… started up the television and game system, grabbed controller 1 and set it to online play.

It did not take long for me to realize something was different; I could see it all. I could see every angle, arc (mostly parabolic), and potential outcome of any shot fired or dodge path used. I could see the outcome, leading to even more outcomes, leading to more outcomes… once again, the numbers danced, and I waltzed with them. I no longer missed; I was much harder to hit. I could see the outcomes of the other players in the game as well, just as clearly as my own. It was nice.

But all things have to end, and this did too, with me dead to the world in the comfy chair.

The next 2 days were a blur of eyestrain, computer coding (it did occur to me to wonder how I could code, when I couldn't before; I'd never had the knack before.) and coffee, with the incredible shrinking man shrinking further; I measured myself, I couldn't help it. As I shrank of course, other things grew. I
tried very hard to ignore those things, but by Wednesday evening they were affecting my arm reach and balance. Walking to the bathroom to measure myself for the third time today (Yes, a bit morbid, but wouldn't you?) I ran into Ian again. This time he knocked me on my butt.

"You OK sis? Sorry, wasn't watching where I was going."

"Yes I'm fine Ian, not made of glass here." I'd never tell him that bouncing on my butt hurt a bit; any sign of pain and I'd never live this down.

As he helped me up I realized...mI was staring into his eyes. A week ago, I towered above him; today I looked him right in the eye. I all but ran for the bathroom; I got on the scale first, shutting the door in Ian's face. 96 pounds. 96 freaking pounds; just this morning I'd been over 100. I did the door tape
measure thing next. 5 measly feet tall. I was smaller than some 10 year olds I knew of.

Next thing I knew mom was there, holding me as I sobbed like the stupid little girl I'd become. I don't know how long that went on, but it was some time. Then a knock on the door interrupted my meltdown. I looked and my family was around me, squeezed into the by no means small but suddenly claustrophobic bathroom. Mom squeezed me tighter.

"I know that look Min, don't you dare; you've nothing to apologize or feel embarrassed for. Let your father worry about who is at the door; you can't bottle this up, it isn't good for you and I won't let you."

I sniffled into her blouse some more; great intelligent responses like that are my forte.

"So what brought this on? Let me guess, you lost another inch?"

I shook my head and corrected her.

"Lost two actually, and a good 7 pounds. I'm now 5 feet nothing and 96 pounds, assuming your scale is calibrated correctly."

She muttered something I didn't catch, then spoke up: "Well no help for it I guess, no way you can get along without clothes now. We shop tomorrow, and just hope you're done."

"Oh, Mistress is quite done losing mass ma'am." A new voice interrupted us. It sounded cultured, polite, and young all at once.

Of course we all looked for this intruder, finding him at the entrance to the bathroom, with my loving father hanging off him; It looked like dad had tried to stop him, and just been ignored.

"I'm sorry for interrupting, Campbell family, But It was imperative that I reached mistress as soon as possible. Good evening Mistress."

With the rest of the family mildly stunned and my father being rather ineffectual at the moment, I decided to take charge a bit. He was looking right at me now, after all.

"Who are you?"

"I am designated as Jeeves mistress; might I ask which nom de guere you have been using of late? I'm sure my files are out of date."

"Jeeves? I don't know any Jeeves."

"You don't as yet, but you know my creator. I was told to inform you… ARNEE sent me."

My head swam; I remembered a night not too long ago with more clarity; talking away at a computer chip while I built some sort of small body, nattering away in a way I couldn't to a living person about my hopes and fears while tearing things apart. And lastly a design; a schematic of all that was being taken away from me, to help me when I could no longer help myself.

I still didn't remember everything, but I recalled enough; it was embarrassing.

"Father, it's OK. You can stop, and you won't need the gun. Mother, I do know this person. He's an android butler I designed."

"Is he what you built out of my power tools?"

"No, that was ARNEE… but ARNEE built him, using my design."

I took a closer look; Jeeves looked normal, he had black hair, blue eyes, had to be 6 feet tall
and appeared to be late teens/early 20's. He was dressed in an old tuxedo, black and replete with tails. He had a face sculpted as a modern Adonis; fine aristocratic features without seeming effeminate, and a slightly more than medium build. In short, he was handsome.

The shock of me finding anything built to look guy-like attractive was broken by mom's next statement.

"I don't trust you at all; you say that Min built you?"

"That is Mistress's new name? I must say I approve." The look he was giving me made me warm and uncomfortable at the same time.

"No, I did not say that mistress Min 'built me'; she provided the design and construction method however, as well as my programming and purpose for existence. I can prove that much if you allow it Mrs. Campbell."

"Go ahead, slowly."

Jeeves went to the next room, my room, and grabbed my old schematics from the garage incident. He handed one to mom, then took off his coat and shirt. You could clearly see the hatch with the small recessed hinges on his back, right where the schematic said it should be.

"You may open it if you wish, I cannot as the radial motion of my arms is like a humans'.”

I helped mom when she hesitated opening the hatch, unscrewing it with a handy nail file and swinging it wide. A good look revealed my handiwork; or what would have been my handiwork if I had been more involved. I compared schematic with his insides; it was much easier to be near him, knowing he was one of mine, built by ARNEE. He was safe.

"It matches the specs, mostly. some differences, which I assume are due to the on site resources."

She looked, obviously lost as to what she was seeing, but in the end agreed with me.

"Yes, it's the same, or close enough. So where is this ARNEE?"

"I'm sorry Mrs Campbell, I'm not at liberty to say. ARNEE's mission is not yet complete, and I cannot compromise its' location until it is.

She gave Jeeves the fish eye.

"Not even for your mistress?"

"No Mrs, Campbell, specifically not from Mistress Min."

Well that was odd. Why had I told ARNEE to stay hidden again, and why from me specifically? I put the hatch back into place, noting that his 'skin' felt like skin… and was warm.

"So this ARNEE is free to take over the world or something, and you won't tell us where it is?"

"That is not its' mission. it is merely a construction prototype; but if you prefer… yes."

"Mom, nothing I built is going to go running around taking over the world! ARNEE is fine." I hoped.

"We will discuss this later. For now, let's all get out of the bathroom."

I was too close. Looking back, I'll admit that. I had just closed the hatch on Jeeves' back, and he had put his shirt back on. When mom shoo'd everyone out, he picked me up in a bridal carry and strode though the hall to my room, ignoring my increasingly panicked protests. He deposited me gently on my bed, and held a finger up.

"I'll be right back mistress, please do not move."

Mom looked in on me with a questioning look; she had followed. I shrugged… of course I had no idea what this android was up to, I wasn't fully responsible for his programming. The fact that he'd lay hands on me at all was bad! She went downstairs, I assume after him.

About 5 minutes later Jeeves was back, mom and family in tow. He placed one of our TV trays and our good tea service down, poured me some chamomile tea and handed me some sort peach crumpet or something. Not sure what it was, or where he got it, but with the chamomile it was especially delicious. He also served my family, mother first, father last.

"Alright Campbell family, please. Mistress Min needs her rest."

My father and surprisingly Ian, both puffed up at this; even more surprisingly Ian spoke first.

"Ha, you're getting out of here too, tin man."

"Ian... may I call you Ian? Ian one of my primary responsibilities is to ensure Mistress Min's safety. To that end it is best that I stay within visual range of her at all times."

"I won't leave if you don't leave… and I'll talk forever."

Oh for pity's sake. I was too tired for this, so I added my own two cents.

"Jeeves… out. Thank you for the snacks, but you can't share my room. Having you in here staring at me would be… creepy."

He looked from one to the other of us, with those weird somehow human looking eyes of his.

"As you wish, mistress Min. I shall be within vocal range should you require anything."

With the help of the chamomile, I drifted right off.

I knew something was drastically different the minute I woke. I had a dream I couldn't remember, a vague feeling of being chased relentlessly down various darkened halls. I woke, entangled in my blankets, a scream hanging on my lips...and realized my comforter was between my legs.

And it was alone there.

Now all through this mess, I'd been holding out hope...even after I'd been diagnosed, little Myrc had still been there, loud and proud so to speak. Throughout the shrinking, the hair growth in obvious and embarrassing places (aqua colored, of course), and the general lack of muscle, my little soldier had been there, through it all, as the only thing not changed. I'd realized this was going to happen, especially after last night, but so fast? Even though alone, I surreptitiously checked myself… pubic hair, vulva, labia, clitoris. Yep, brand new anatomy, over night.

I didn't realize I was hyperventilating until Jeeves was there, Holding me gently but firmly and whispering things to me I only half understood. OK, I lied, wasn't even sure what language he was speaking… but it helped.

"OK, enough, let go of me please."

"Are you sure mistress Min? you still seem troubled."

"I am, but it won't get any better if I continue to fly apart. I need something to distract me; So how can you tell that I still seem troubled?"

"A combination of observing your heart rate and facial expressions, mistress."

"You can recognize those?"

"Yes, you did the programming yourself, mistress. I am sure the memory will resurface when needed. Are you ready for breakfast? I have a wonderful plate of Belgian waffles downstairs."

"I think I need to shower first, and find something to wear; rather do that before anyone comes to check on me."

"Of course mistress, I have taken the liberty of altering your previous clothing in order to properly fit you. I shall bring you a set."

"You sew?"

"I do mistress, however sewing was not the proper skill to use to properly outfit you; I had to resort to a gift ARNEE sent for you, for just this purpose."

"A gift? That alters clothes? Want to tell me what it is?"

"I cannot mistress, It is not permitted; I can say however that it had a finite use, and is therefore empty. You will recall eventually, after all, it is your creation."

"Oh, yes, I suppose you're right...."

"Mistress, your shower. You should make haste."

"Oh! Right,"

I'd been so caught up in thinking about possible devices to alter clothes that I'd been standing out in the hall half naked; what the hell was wrong with me? I bolted into the bathroom and slammed the door, almost leaping into the shower and flinging my stupid oversized shirt behind me.

However, it didn't take long to convince me to slow down. It took me awhile to wake up… much longer than normal; but once I did I realized my hair, my now fully eye matching aqua hair, was now down to my butt. Just yesterday, I had a bit of shag, but still hair that could be considered a boy cut. That didn't even make sense. Sighing, I looked for the soap. Hmmm, odd. No soap at all, nor the usual shampoo; instead there was some sort of lilac smelling body wash for sensitive skin, and shampoo with conditioner for extra body, also smelling of lilac. Neither had ever been seen in this house before, I was sure. There was also a brand new pink body washing pom pom thing, whatever those are called.

A soft knock I barely heard sounded on the door.

"That you Jeeves?"

"Yes Mistress Min. I have your clothing."

"OK, come in."

"I'll just place them next to the door, it may not be considered proper."

"Just a moment Jeeves; did you change the soap and shampoo in the bathroom?"

"Of course mistress Min; the soap would have been harsh to your new skin, and the shampoo will be much better for the altered ph of your hair. Please do use the new ones."

"Could you please let me know of any other such changes you would like to make in the future?"

"Of course mistress Min."

With my only other choice to go out smelling like… well, no idea what that smell was, but it was unpleasant, I used the body wash and shampoo. After taking far far too long to wash my stupid hair, I dried (gently of course, I learn), and cracked the door open. Good, no one here. I grabbed the small pile and darted back inside.

Why that… It was a dress! A gray goth style with black accents and lace, just like I'd see in one of Ricky's dumb animes; gloves, stockings, matching bra and panties, even boots. Where did that defective android get the idea that girls dressed like this?!? I put them on, not having any option. Admittedly, the bra took a minute, but I quickly grasped the concept of just reversing it around my waist then pulling it around and up. The dress was actually trickier; it buttoned in the back. Not seeing any option to handle that hurdle, I gave in.

"Jeeves, are you close?"

"Yes mistress Min, do you need assistance?"

"I need buttoned up as you well know, and we need to talk."

"Of course, mistress Min; I assume you are 'decent'?"

"Yes, come in."

He entered and I turned away from him.

"So where did you get your sense of style from? Are you aware that this is not what most females wear?"

"Why no mistress Min, I was not. Some of my education was rather limited. I learned most of what I know through my internet access while being built. There are a prevalence of images from women dressed such as you are now there."

Epic facepalm. My android butler, the cosplay fan. Well I guess it sort of made sense, somehow.

"I'm sorry if they are not to your liking mistress Min. Could you tell me if you feel any discomfort from them? The material was specifically designed for your physiology."

Well, It didn't seem right to lie; he had tried after all. Failed epically, but tried.

"They feel very comfortable at the moment; very soft."

"Min?" My mother...sigh was hoping to get coffee before she saw me like this.

"Jeeves here thought that I needed new clothes, so he converted mine… apparently he has warped ideas of what girls wear." I still wasn't used to looking up to her.

"I see… well odd as it is, it looks really good on you. But, you really need to dry your hair and brush it out, hair that long can get terrible tangles."

"I need coffee first, desperately."

"I'll take care of it mistress Min." Jeeves strode back into the bathroom while we went downstairs.

I had just finished my first cup of coffee and was eying those Belgian waffles, complete with strawberries and blueberries set on the side, when Jeeves came into the kitchen with mom's blow dryer and a pink brush I'd never seen before in hand. He plugged it in next to the coffeepot.

"Please turn around and eat mistress Min."

My mom's eyebrows were hitting the ceiling; I shrugged and turned around.

"What? I don't want to deal with it; I want waffles. Come on mom, he's eccentric as heck, but once I work the bugs out, I'm sure he will be awesome. He made waffles!" I shoved the plate (now half empty) her way.

She started eating them rather distractedly, downing coffee while Jeeves dried and brushed my hair. OK I admit it, it felt pleasant. Once he was done however, he fiddled with my hair some more, and bound it behind me somehow. Mom snorted.

"Eccentric, huh?"

"What? What did he do?"

"He just tied your hair back with a ribbon; bow and all."

I cursed, drawing a very dirty look from mom.

"I set him straight for now, but he doesn't know any better; lack of data on how girls dress. You still intend we shop today?"

"Right after we take you back to Dr. Halleck. Pretty sure you'll need clothes."

"Good, we can get Jeeves his data so I don't look any worse."

"Hah, actually the look suits you."

We were both surprised by the camera flash; I turned to see Ian sporting mothers' old Kodak, waving a photo in the air.

"Ian, you little worm!"

"Ha, who you calling little sis? You're tiny! Blackmail material!!!! wooo!" He ran as soon as I got up.

"dammit, I didn't have anything else to wear! Come back here!"

"Minerva Myrciel Campbell!" Dread froze me; no child ever wants to hear their entire name from their mother.

"That's twice Min… another time, and you're eating soap. Now sit down."

"But..!"

"No, you cursed. That's your punishment; deal with it."

I sulked, nursing another cup of coffee.

"What was all the yelling?"

"Good morning father."

Never had I seen a such a look on my fathers' face before. It looked almost like amazement, but there was a certain amount of poleaxed deer in headlights mixed into it too.

"Min, what in the world..."

"It was all I had to wear! Jeeves turned all my clothes into stuff like this. Hopefully this will be the last day I look this stupid, as well as the first."

"And you yelling at Ian was because..."

"He took pictures, the jerk!"

He stared at me a moment, before his eyes narrowed to their normal size and he grinned.

"One for the album, then."

"Father! If he gives it to you destroy it, or no waffles for you."

"Oh, waffles? Who made them, they don't look like your mom's work. Don't tell me you're cooking now?"

I snorted. "As if, Jeeves made them, and they are quite delicious."

He looked to mother for confirmation, and of course she nodded.

"Well then don't mind if I do; thank you Jeeves."

"You're quite welcome sir."

He chowed down in usual Campbell style; I was mildly surprised that no food flew anywhere.

"So Min… forgive me for asking this but um… how close are you?" She made a surreptitious gesture towards my slightly open legs, which I rapidly closed.

"I think I finished this morning, to be honest. I'm not entirely sure about internally."

My father choked.

"You alright father?"

He recovered quickly, with a thump on the back from Jeeves.

"I'm fine, I'm fine, I just didn't think it would be so soon. It keeps sneaking up on me. Thanks again Jeeves."

"No problem Mr. Campbell."

"I'm sorry father."

He was hugging me again. How could all these people keep catching me by surprise like that?

"No Min, I didn't mean it like that. I just meant this is all so sudden, it's hard to adjust. It's my fault not yours."

"Sudden, and hard to adjust? You should try this side of things. Oh, to glaringly change the subject; I can fix the 'cuda to working condition if you want. I need to build something first, but I could possibly get it running in 3 days."

"No odd modifications? Just the basic car?"

"Of course, as you requested; just the engine, rebuilt to the original 1973 specifications."

"If you're sure."

"Absolutely; Ian get in here and eat these waffles before I do!"

The jerkbag in question slinked back into the kitchen like a whipped puppy. I wordlessly handed him the plate and my best glare. He dug in.

"We will be late Ian, I trust you can see yourself to school?"

"Mom, I'm not a baby."

"Sure you aren't. Well there is a plate in the fridge for dinner, but I don't expect us to be gone that long; if we are, I'll call."

"No problem, I'll be here."

"Ready Min? Let's leave these losers to do the dishes."

"I'm in! Run, before they get wise! Let's go Jeeves!"

I was out the door before they processed the words, and in the Durango before they could protest. By the time Mother joined me in front, Jeeves was in the back and I was surfing the web on my phone.

"Min, you jumped the gun a bit, I'd like you to go and get all those schematics you drew for X-ray's inspection, it could help. We are going to do a full powers testing if possible today."

"Jeeves, would you please go get them for me?" OK, so I didn't want to be bothered, I had an idea to use this web app to access my laptop from anywhere using the IP....

"Of course Mistress Min."

"What are you doing?"

"Oh I'm working on the phone's internet capabilities; I have an idea on how to access my laptop from the phone."

"You're programming on your phone?"

"Um, sure, shouldn't I be?"

"If you can, just try not to ruin either device..."

"Yes I know, I won't get another. I'll be good."

"Honey, can you look at me, please?"

I sighed and looked.

"It's very rude to not look at me when I'm talking to you, try not to do it again, OK?"

"I'm sorry, mother, it's just, this program needs finishing. I didn't mean anything by it."

I could understand her anger, but this urge to do things was like an itch. A supremely annoying itch in the back of my brain.

Jeeves came back with the requested documents and we both quieted, lost in our own worlds. I'd sneak glances every now and again, convinced she was angry. I hope I can make it up to her. Maybe if...


"Honey? Honey, we're here."

"Huh? Oh sorry, was thinking about stuff. Here already huh? Time flies I guess."

I saved the file on my phone and set it to vibrate, then realized I had no pockets to put it in.

"Jeeves, can you put this in your pocket for me?"

"Of course Mistress Min."

I looked around. Just excellent, everyone was giving me the hairy eyeball. Literally everyone was looking at me, some were even whispering and pointing! Stupid dress! I wanted to run or find a large coat to hide in or something.

"Steady Min, don't worry about them, you look fine."

"I wish I had a trench-coat or something, they are all staring at me."

"It's OK, let them stare. You look great."

"Can we just hurry please?"

We suited actions to my words, and were soon in the hospital; however we had to wait in the waiting room for 15 torturous minutes. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs to get them to stop staring at me. Of course, that would be counter productive. Instead I just shrank into my seat and ignored the stares by reclaiming and continuing the work on my phone. Silly phone processor limited my options, but I wouldn't give up!

"Minerva Campbell?"

I looked up to see the nurse standing over me. Crap. Back to the real world. I got up to follow her, and she still towered over me; grrr. Of course she was also had a few inches on mother; for some odd reason that made me feel better. Back into the office with the odd machinery again. It was still set up in the same corner as last week. X-ray, in the same beaten and slightly singed lab coat, (I think the singes were new), Dr. Halleck, and a woman who looked vaguely familiar, around Dr Hallecks' age. She also towered over both Campbells present. Dr. Halleck started off.

"Morning, Minerva, is it now? You remember my wife Dorothy?"

I did, Dr. Dorothy Halleck, psychologist and general practitioner… a very smart lady as I recalled. She handled all the female clientele of the Halleck practice.

"I do now, good morning, and how are you, DR's Halleck?"

"We are both well dear, thank you for asking. So, now for the million dollar question; how are you?"

I sent a rather pointed look at their resident geek.

"I'd be a lot better if everyone would stop staring. This was all I had to wear here, quit gawking already!"

X-ray snapped out of it and wilted under my glare.

"Sorry Minerva, but you just caught me by surprise is all."

"Never mind him dear, he's an idiot. So lets get started shall we? We have a long day ahead. I'll help you get ready for the machine; everyone else, kindly get out."

I liked Dorothy already.

"Not quite yet; everyone, this is Jeeves. Jeeves, Dr. Emmanuel Halleck, his wife Dorothy Halleck, and X-ray, a devisor friend of theirs."

"Pleased to meet you Jeeves, I hate to be abrupt, but we need to get things done. They can get acquainted outside."

"It is no problem at all ma'am; if you need any assistance Mistress Min, I will be within vocal range."

Once the door shut Dorothy motioned for me to undress, helping me with the buttons.

"Mistress Min? What is all that about?"

"Jeeves is a butler of sorts, I made him. He's a bit buggy but he means well."

So there might have been a bit of pride in my voice. I defy anyone to not be proud of building their very own android, no matter how buggy!

"hmm, is that so? What bugs have you noticed?" She asked as she started placing leads on me; I in the meantime put on a handy hospital gown.

"Well he is the one who converted all my clothes to this goth Lolita crap. Apparently he didn't have enough data on current fashions to know what a t-shirt and jeans were."

"Is that so? Well seems like an easy fix to make."

"Yes, I'm hopeful. He accepts my orders without question though, which is nice."

"Always is nice to find such loyalty in anything. Here, drink this; can't have you moving while in the machine, and you are pretty chipper."

I took it with trepidation; Sleeping all the time was getting old.

"Don't worry, It only lasts for an hour, maybe a bit longer for you. It's based on body weight."

Shaking the concern off, I downed the drug and climbed in. I wasn't entirely trusting however.

"Jeeves, please come back inside and watch over me."

The door opened.

"I am here Mistress Min."

"Good. Try to make sure X-ray doesn't take any nude pictures. Silly pedo bear."

"I will break him if he tries, mistress Min."

"Good." And I was out like the proverbial light.



I came out of it to all at once, with none of the grogginess one usually associates with anesthetics.

"Safe to come out?"

"One moment Mistress Min."

I heard miscellaneous noises one expects to hear if a bunch of people shuffle out of a room.

"It's safe now, dear. One last thing has to happen before we go on to the next phase. By the way, call me Dorothy, I'd prefer it."

I crawled out to see that the doctors' examination bed had some sort of metal devices attached at the end, with straps. It looked like a medieval torture device.

"Um, no thanks, not into that sort of thing?"

"It's just a routine gynecological exam dear, nothing to be afraid of. I do this for your mother all the time."

"Just exactly what do you intend to do?"

"Dear… get up there. This needs to happen."

I wilted under her no nonsense tone. Sigh, the voice of authority. To take my mind off what I assumed was going to happen, I started asking questions.

"So, did X-ray say what the verdict was?"

"You appear to be healthy, aside from a rather severe form of anemia, for which you'll be receiving medication. We also suspect your eyes to be a little weak. We will be checking that shortly. We're good to go for the rest of the tests though; it seems you're all done."

"Anything else I should know?"

"Yes. You're really not going to like this part."

I didn't.

After an exceedingly long time frame; possibly the longest minutes of my life, I was led by Dorothy down a hall to a nondescript elevator, taken down to a rather modern looking reinforced dungeon, and forced to wear some weird black body suit that had some sensors pasted on the outside and a fanny battery pack. I was of course subjected to the most inane small talk imaginable all the while; most of which I ignored or responded in grunts and head shakes. I think I could almost prefer the dress, as while everything was covered I felt more exposed. I was then led to a largish room where there appeared to be an obstacle course set up. My mother and X-ray were nowhere to be found.

"So I feel the urge to make cat noises and steal valuable shiny things. Anyone else? Is there a tail on this stupid suit?"

"Yes, we know, no one actually likes those things,' Dr. Halleck responded. 'However they are necessary, as the suit monitors pulse, respiration, nervous system, and a few other bodily functions… as well as provides a small measure of protection."

"I need protection for this?"

He handed me a bike helmet. I handed him a glare.

"Where is my mother?"

"Talking over the machine results with X-ray. Take your position at the tape there. Ready?" He held up a stopwatch.

Sigh, today sucks. I nodded. At least I still had Jeeves watching over me.

"Go!"

The first part of the obstacle course was easy; standard basic training fare, and while I never played either sport using those as training, I knew the drill. Through the tires, under the bar, through the fake log, over the standalone wall, which was the first true obstacle. It took me two tries to get over that stupid wall, since I couldn't just jump and catch the top, and climbing the rope provided was difficult with noodle arms. The balance beam went a bit better, since even though it was a mere 5 centimeters across and 10 meters long, (roughly) I had no problem running across it.

Then I saw, in the last 3 steps of beam, the true horror. Another mini wall right at the end, with monkey bars on the other side. My mind kicked in, considering and discarding possibilities, and in the next step I decided to try something I never would have before. Before I would have simply slammed into the wall and then climbed over it… but slamming into something, especially chest first, proved a lot more painful recently. So I used the last step to twist and flip over the wall, rolling on top of it briefly before landing on top of the first bar, and running across. The next little hurdle, were hurdles.

I dropped off the last bar, twisted in mid air, and let my hands grab it on the way down to slow my descent, twisting again and sprinting. The first few hurdles were small, barely a jump at all, and I cleared those easily. The next several added height, a few centimeters at a time, till no matter what I did
I couldn't clear them. Dr. Hallek's voice crackled from a speaker.

"Bypass them Min."

Next up was a simple long jump in a sand pit. Pretty obvious, and I wasted no time. I jumped, right foot leading, hit the sand and dug in, and promptly fell forward on my hands. Getting up I saw all these weaving boxing (speed?) bags, with a line in between them. I weaved between them with ease; being able to judge their arc was nice. I did not think about how much space there was between them relative to how much I would have had a week ago.

Now as anyone who has played baseball knows… a pneumatic pitching machine makes a distinctive sound; the load up and whirr before a pitch heads your way haunts many a players' nightmares. So when I heard that clunk and whirr I instantly dropped. I heard the ball sail through the space my head had occupied, and hit the wall before bouncing back at me; too much bounce for a baseball....

"What the hell?!?"

"Sorry Min, last part of the test. We have to know if you're precognitive, and that is the best way to test for it."

"I could have been hurt, you know; pretty sure my skull isn't super dense."

"Now you know why I insisted on the helmet. I'm sure you've already guessed, but that was a tennis ball. No real damage could be incurred. This way."

He led the way to the a door in back, Jeeves bringing up the rear.

I gave him another fish eye when he opened the door, motioned me through, and said: "Ladies first."

Dr. Halleck didn't annoy me that much, usually. Was he trying to today or something?

I went through the door and it slammed behind me; It was armored on this side. I could hear both Jeeves and Dr. Halleck yell my name from the other side, and a faint pounding.

"Halt, mutant." You have got to be kidding me.

A 3 meter or so tall robot, looking vaguely like a walking marvel copyright infringement, unfolded itself from a niche in the hall and turned it's stupid looking head towards me. An intercom next to the door crackled.

"Min?!? Min! Somehow the security system activated, we can't get to you! You'll have to get the door open!"

"I think I'm going to be busy, Dr. Halleck." I responded, not sure he could hear me, keeping my eye on the bargain basement toys R us reject.

"The attack robot is on? Oh that's not good. listen Min it's set to kill intruders, you need to focus on opening the door, then I can shut it down through voice command!"

"not really an option at the moment."

All during our discussion the robot (and I use the term loosely) was getting closer. I could see the slightly armored power cable leading into the wall; hmm, a possibility...

The robot of course, had a laser; they always do. It popped out of it's arm, and that arm of course swung my way. The laser was of course too low powered to burn through the door. I had another idea while I dodged under it; sheesh was it slow! The servos running this thing made it seem like those
manufacturing machines they now use to make cars.

"Hey Dr. Halleck, you still there?"

"Yes Min, you OK? Can you open the door?"

"Can you try your voice command through the intercom?"

"Yes of course! Sentinel, stop!" No lie… he actually called it a sentinel. I'd be laughing if it wasn't so serious. The trash receptacle did not stop however, instead taking a glacial aim again.

"You'll have to modulate your voice Dr. Halleck, the intercom is muffling it."

Hmm, speaking of glacial, what was cooling that laser? it wasn't a pulse model, and that coolant did not look like argon...

While Dr. Halleck cycled through different tones in an increasingly hysterical and ineffectual manner, I launched myself forward and wrapped myself onto the arm with the laser on it. I'd have to time this perfectly.… as expected, the terribly slow robot threw an equally slow punch, which I avoided by simply dropping off its other arm. I took a kick for my trouble, getting me out of the danger zone for what happened next. The two broken ribs were a small price to pay.

I had just made it punch it's own laser, rupturing the nitrogen gas coolant tank and causing that arm to freeze and break off. This also had the added benefit of exposing the wiring leading into the torso. Heavy gauge copper, of course; I can work with that. I charged again, leaping up remnants of the punching arm as it came at me again, showering me with shards of brittle alloy. I dropped into the other side, grabbing onto the head while going fishing into the robots' shoulder with the other.

With the punching arm too short to get to me, the sentinel resorted to trying to fling me off by swinging around. I flew of course; weighing nothing at all, but not before I had twisted two crucial wires together… the power leads to the laser. This in turn shorted out the transformer in the torso that was being used to convert the power from the cable in the wall. I slammed into the wall, both stars and electricity dancing in my vision as the robot finally decided to shut down.

Shaking it off, I went to the door. A simple enough bypass, once I got the hatch off… I could have likely done it before the robot shot at me. If I hadn't been pissed off about the obvious set up.

"Min, are you OK?!?"

"Dr Halleck, I am less than happy with you right now."

Jeeves almost shoved Dr. Halleck aside in order to reach me, slipping an arm under mine and shooting the lab coated Judas a glare even worse than mine. His tone to me though, was tender.

"You're hurt; two broken ribs, a mild concussion, and a torn right deltoid. Should I carry you?"

"No, I can walk, but I won't turn down some help. you should see the other guy." I pointed behind me.

The good Doctor was already looking at the mess, shock and on his face.

"You… broke him. No, worse, you totally trashed him! All you had to do was bypass the door and I could have shut him off!"

"Don't lie to me, Dr. Halleck, you could have shut him off any time. A more obvious set up you couldn't have made. Yes I broke him, and I'd do it again. If you had just told me about this, I would have done as you asked. I detest being lied to."

"The test was check you for devisor talent strength; it usually takes a high talent as a devisor to crack that door. You just displayed both the talents we are testing for however, for only a high level gadgeteer could think of a way to disable the sentinel so quickly as well. Which means the last test won't be necessary."

"What was the last test?"

"Disarming a nuclear device."

"...What? You have a nuke here?"

"A fake one, of course. The simulations must be as real as possible to encourage people to take them seriously."

"Of course."

We reached the end of the hall, through a room where a miniature fat boy was located. Dr. Halleck passed it without so much as a glance. At the other end we entered a control room of sorts, and I entered my mother's crushing hug.

"Oh thank god you're OK!"

"Mother… ribs."

"Ohmigod I'm so sorry! Are they broken?"

"I'll heal, I regenerate, remember?"

I looked past her to Dorothy and X-ray, spotting two people I didn't know behind them both. The first was a kind of grungy looking guy with a 5 o clock shadow, dirty blonde hair, and a weather beaten face. Perhaps 5 ft 10 in and medium build, currently fiddling with a zippo lighter. The second, was a bit over 6 ft, and pretty much a wall of muscle, reminding me quite a bit of my father save for his skin and hair color; both a rather nice dark mocha shade. He was wearing a pinstriped suit a few shades lighter than the first.

"So what's the verdict, do I pass? And who are the suits?"

They took their cue, the mildly grungy guy went first.

"Hello Ms. Campbell, I'm agent Leonard Sands, Mutant Commission Office. I'm a friend of X-ray's he brought in for this case."

"I'm Terrance Douglas, Central Intelligence Agency, and a friend of your family." They both flashed badges at me.

"Mother, they telling the truth?"

"Yes honey, they both are, I've known Terrence since your father served with him, and I know of Mr. Sands… he has a bit of a rebel reputation for the M.C.O.

"What she means is, in almost 30 cases since I started working for the M.C.O., not a single mutant I've been assigned to watch and evaluate has ever disappeared under mysterious circumstances."

"Bet that makes your superiors happy. So, my results?"

X-ray took over while I watched the suits and tried to look menacing; I knew I failed when they both gave me reassuring seeming smiles, both of which seemed mildly creepy. Jeeves moved a bit in front of me.

"Devisor 5, Gadgeteer 5, regen 2 EX 3; limited. You're the classic mad scientist type, you can build most anything, modify most anything, and happen to be very intelligent. The EX stands for Exemplar, it's basically a fancy way of saying you're superhuman in some way. In your case, it's your intelligence, memory, and your agility. You are fairly fast and agile, perhaps even well beyond Olympic levels, and your muscles are extremely efficient."

"But not nearly enough muscle there to make a good difference...that's it? no flying, or eye-beams, or mind bullets? Shesh, All I really got was the compulsion to take things apart and a medical condition?"

Dang, me and Ralph had a lot more in common than I thought! X-ray chimed in, with an expression that I'm sure was meant to be comforting but somehow still managed to hold some defensiveness.

"It's not as bad as all that, devisors can do many amazing things." I rolled my eyes.

"Sure, like build giant walking cliches to torment people with. I'm so glad I broke your toy."

"How did you know I built it?"

"Oh come on, it has your signature all over it. Deny it if you can."

If he didn't know how easy it was to spot his silly tech, I wasn't going to tell him.

"I won't deny it, but I will ask why you found it necessary to completely destroy him rather than simply open the door."

"Your obvious set up pissed me off; so you pay in nerd tears, mothers' friend or not. By the way mother dear, they couldn't have set me up without your help… so I owe you one."

"I won't deny it honey, I'm sorry. It really is the only way to find out what you're capable of. Just please be gentler on me than I was on you."

"Ahem, well I hate to interrupt but, could you stand up straight?"

I stood up looking warily at X-ray, who had an odd looking box with a lens in front and a plastic card hanging out of the right side. A flash later and I was blinking my eyes.

"There you go, one state ID complete with picture, made to order."

"There is one last thing,' Leonard interrupted. 'all these files are going to be stored in both the CIA and MCO databases. We are your buffers to both agencies, everything will come and go through us. In order to ensure this, it's tradition that all files be given a nickname, such as Champion or X-ray here."

"A superhero moniker huh?"

"You don't have to pick right away, and it doesn't have to be a superhero name. It's just a code name to keep your real name off our paperwork, as a security measure. We'd actually appreciate it if you didn't go out trying to stop crime."

There was fat chance of that; I was distinctly unsuited for that life.

"Mneme"

"Huh?"

I shrugged.

"Mneme, pronounced neem… the muse of memory and knowledge. I read it somewhere. It's rather esoteric, so I doubt that it's taken by anyone."

"Uh… OK. Noted, and now the papers are processed. Now I don't normally do this, but I'm going to explain what it is I do. It's my job as a field agent to watch newly emerging mutants for any signs of going off the rails… insanity, rampant criminal behavior, etcetera. So if you build a machine to run around killing people or make a giant laser to carve your name into the moon, I'll be right there to stop you; understood?"

"Absolutely, since I have no desire to do any of those things, I should never see you again, right?"

"Err, not quite, I'll be checking up on you quite often, perhaps even following you around some."

"Don't worry, kid;' Terrence interrupted. 'my job is to watch Leonard here; any shenanigans and I'll disappear him. I or my partner, who couldn't be here today, will be pretty much following you all the time, for your protection. wouldn't do to let a Campbell fall to a bad end."

"Mr. Douglas, that would be so much more reassuring if you didn't work for the CIA… but I'll take what I can get."

Dorothy spoke up.

"alright dear, let's get you cleaned up, the showers are this way, and I have your clothes waiting."

"Good, can't wait to get out of this stupid thing."

Jeeves followed us down the hall, of course, and I don't blame his lack of trust. Once out of earshot, Dorothy slowly leaned towards me and whispered:

"Just one more thing dear, I know you're doing the best you can, but take my card. Program the number into your phone, and if you want to, for any reason at all, even if it's just to talk, call me. It can help. I have to go for now, but I hope to hear from you soon. Be well."

"I will Dorothy, thanks."

Once I showered again, (Sheesh can that stupid suit make one sweat!) I followed the rather conveniant signs back to the elevator, Jeeves in tow; I found mother waiting for me.

"So we're done here?"

"Yes honey, all done, now we can go shopping, unless you'd rather put it off?"

"No, lets just do it now, I'd rather get it done and over with." Seriously, this crap was cutting into the time I needed to build the 3D printer!

"How do you feel?"

"Tired and annoyed of course. My right side and head aches."

"I'll try and curb the natural instincts then. This shouldn't take more than a few hours."

A few hours? What the hell?!?

"Lets just check the measurements… let's see...."

Mother started shuffling through the pamphlet that X-ray had no doubt handed her.

"And the verdict is… weighing in at 95.8 pounds, as a 32c 20 32."

The facial tic under her right eye was new.

"Mother, you alright?"

"Min, do you know what those measurements mean?"

I took a shot in the dark.

"I'm really, really tiny?"

She shook her head and muttered something that sounded less than clean. I tried hard not to listen. No idea what she was on about.

At the door leading to blessed, blessed freedom, X-ray crouched like a four eyed gargoyle, waiting to pounce on the unwary. He had a bundle in his hands.

"I almost forgot something Min. Here, these are for you. Got to run, need to make another test robot. Don't be a stranger Mary."

The bundle turned out to be a light gray lab coat much like X-ray's, with many pockets and in my size, perhaps a trifle large. The second part was a small case in which a pair of thick lensed glasses with pale rose frames rested. I managed to make it till X-ray rounded the corner before bursting into tears.

"Honey what's wrong?" mother didn't quite hug me, no doubt fearing to aggravate my ribs. Jeeves crowded the other side.


"I'm fine mother, sorry… just kind of hit me again all at once."

How could I explain to her what those glasses and coat represented? In less than a week I had gone from all around cool guy (at least I thought I was) to useless nerd girl. So far the only thing useful to come out of this entire mess was Jeeves, and even he had bugs! Ugh, suck it up, 'min', tears are pointless. Life sucks and you deal. I pondered that statement while being helped into the Durango and all through the trip to the mall. Why did life have to suck? Could I at least save Ian from this, assuming he needed to be saved? What about any other people?


"Min, we're here." She reached over and stopped me, using a tissue to wipe my face before letting me go. Jeeves helped me out of the Durango before I could so much as swing my feet out.

"You plan on hovering like this all day?"

"Of course mistress Min. I'd also like to apologize for not stopping the incident at the hospital; I will not be convinced that such actions are in your best interests again."

"It's fine, mother was right, it needed to happen. It was my own fault for not doing the expected. I will relish the look of utter desolation on X-ray's face for a long time though. No offense mother, but X-ray seems like a jerk."

"He can be; he has a tendency to miss the trees for the forest sometimes. Come on, in here."

I looked, to see the most dreaded of all stores… the Gap. At least we were an hour away from home; not very likely anyone would see me go in there, if they did I'd never live it down!

My slight hesitation had cost me, as while Jeeves had stopped when I had, mother was already inside grabbing clothes seemingly at random. If I didn't stop her, I'd have more clothes I'd never want to wear. Shaking my head at her, I started grabbing subdued shirts and jeans, noting the measurements.

"you'll have to try all of them on honey."

"What? Why? The measurements are proper."

"Not all female clothes are made the same; what is the right size for one isn't the right size for another. Besides, you really should be looking for petite."

She pointed at the stack of shirts I'd picked up. I meanwhile, was vaguely put off by her two armfuls of clothing.

"Alright, so I need to try all of this on?"

"Yep. The changing rooms are that way, and be sure to come out after each change so I can judge."

"Sigh."


Two hours and 3 shops later, Jeeves was carrying four bags stuffed to their respective brims with clothes, and mother was showing no signs of stopping.

"Mother, please… we both need food by this point."

She snapped out of her daze for a moment. Sheesh I hope I never get like that.

"You're right, your pick at the food court."

"Pizza of course, and in copious amounts."

By this time I was almost used to the stares...not. but I was doing my best to ignore them. The absolute creepiest were the old men… guys 30, 40 years old staring at me; one of them even licked his lips! I wasn't a steak! Though he might be a pedo bear....

"Min, what's the matter?"

"I should have changed out of the dress while shopping; I'm still getting all these creepy stares."

She shook her head and muttered again.

"Min, you know I love you right? About some things, you are completely clueless and I have no idea how that happened."

"Like what?"

"Oh no, if you don't know, I'm not going to tell you; more fun this way."

"...Whatever; Jeeves do you understand what she's talking about?"

"I am not at liberty to say, mistress Min."

I narrowed my eyes.

"Why not?"

"I'm not at liberty to say why I'm not at liberty to say mistress Min."

Buggy piece of....

"That reminds me, how is your power state? You aren't low at all? You've been active quite awhile."

"I am at 64% capacity mistress Min, thank you for your concern. I should be able to maintain operational capacity for another 73.21 hours with this charge."

"Wow, I need to take a look at how I built your power supply. Magnetic capacitor isn't it?"

"In part. It is a double system consisting of a magnetic capacitor and electromagnetic motor."

"Hmmm... I brought out my phone and started one of the apps I made.

"Min...finish your pizza, we have a few more places to go."

"Argh. Alright mother. Let's finish this torture, I have things to do."

"Torture is it? Heh heh heh… just one last place to go."

We finished and she led me to Victoria's Secret.

"Seriously?"

"You're allowed, being one of us. Stop forgetting."

She grabbed my arm and led me to a section with what were titled 'french cut panties', found my size and grabbed a few different packs in varied colors.

"Stay here."

That raised my eyebrows, and my hackles. But put I stayed.

She came back quickly enough, more packages in her hands.

"So what did you get?"

"Bras for the both of us, of course." She held them up… pretty innocuous, no frills types with colors matching the panties.

"This required me to stand here? And how do you know those will fit?"

"Simple, I've been helping you test fit on new clothes for hours. These are pretty much an exact match for what you have on right now. And Jeeves would have been pretty out of place, you did make him to look male."

I pushed off the wall and stumbled a bit. Surprise! Your body hates you, Min!

"Oh, true, true. So can we leave? I'm getting tired all of a sudden."

"Well I kinda lied; one more stop to go, but you can sit down at the food court and wait for me, I won't be long."

I sat and watched, Jeeves standing next to me.

"You can sit down too, you know."

"I think I'd rather stand close mistress Min, if you feel unwell."

"Alright, your call."

It was 20 minutes of people watching and a steadily increasing unease, before mother returned with a GNC bag.

"Let me guess; iron?"

"Yep, iron, a few other new essentials for you."

I tried to stand up, weaving into Jeeves. He steadied me, and we walked out. Mother was trying to talk to me, but I couldn't really hear her; I was a bit busy trying not to pass out. Jeeves had to bundle me into the car.

"You still with us, Min?"


It took me some time to process the question, and I nodded in response. Sooo tired, too tired to speak. Jeeves let the seat back and hovered in my vision as I drifted off during the ride home.

"Min? Can you wake up Min?”

I was sure I made some sort of noise; it was supposed to be a yes, but I felt like I was swimming in molasses. And then I was floating from the Durango to the house. I looked up into Jeeves' blue eyes as he looked down and smiled at me.

"It's alright mistress Min, I have you. Into the bed we go, to sleep, perchance to dream."

I drifted off peacefully, secure in the knowledge that Jeeves would be there.

I awoke slowly to softly playing music, some sort of pop in another language; and the smell of fresh coffee. I could feel my feet propped up on something soft and being massaged. turning my head a bit, I saw I was in my room, with coffee and coffee cakes on a tray next to my bed. Jeeves was lightly rubbing my feet. having propped them on his lap with a pillow.

"Good evening mistress Min. How are you feeling?"

"Fine, a bit tired. Passed out again, did I? I was hoping I was past that part."

"Unfortunately, your fatigue and lost consciousness are the result of your rather severe anemia, A condition that can only be alleviated through medication. I have of course prepared the fist dose, it lies next to the coffee."

"And the massage?"

"Is it satisfactory? One possible way to decrease time spent unconscious for the human body is to stimulate the blood flow in the extremities, most often the feet."

"It feels very nice. I suppose you'll be angry if I say I don't want meds?"

"Absolutely furious, mistress Min. Besides, if you do not, how can we get the work done?"

"Crap, you're right, we need to build the printer!"

I sat up slowly, having learned my lesson, and grabbed the 4 pills hidden by the coffee cup in my earlier inspection. Putting them all in my mouth, I quickly downed the entire mug to wash them down, picking up a cake to chew on.

"What time is it?"

"It is 11:04 pm, roughly. Your family members are asleep, and we should endeavor not to wake them."

"Agreed. I assume this is part of a fresh pot?" I asked, holding up the mug

"It is, of course. The rest is in a carafe in the kitchen, waiting for your use."

"Excellent. I should check my computer, the printer plans are on it."

I finally moved, swinging my legs away from Jeeves's tender ministrations and to the floor, crossing the room and allowing my lovely computer to scan my face. It opened and right there, still open, were the plans I needed. Unfortunately, they weren't entirely finished.

"Jeeves, can you work on the spigot and server apparatus? The schematic for those are done. I'll finish the mixing bin while you're doing that."

"Could you please oversee the operation mistress Min? I am fairly confident I can follow the plans, but I'd feel better if you were near."

I blinked, pulled out of my reverie by his plaintive tone.

"Oh, of course, I'll just bring the laptop with me. Could you bring the mug and cakes? those things are delicious."

"Of course, and thank you for the compliment mistress Min."

"Oh, you baked these?" I asked as I headed downstairs, laptop in hand and cord draped over my shoulders... I didn't want to be bothered packing it.

"Of course."

"I thought the pumpkin tasted fresh. Not quite the taste to go with coffee though I think?"

"I agree, but I have to work with what is available; strawberries are out of season."

I made it into the garage without any clumsy falls (thank goodness!) and set up at the workbench. Jeeves materialized beside me, filled coffee mug and cakes in hand. once he set those down, he took his coat off and grabbed my tools. We both got to work.

"Honey? You in here?"

I looked up, suddenly aware of my surroundings again; Jeeves was beside me, ratcheting a pesky bolt in the spigot frame apparatus. The schematics were complete, and I had an alternator in my hand which I was modifying. Mother was at the doorway, in her robe, watching with concern stamped on her face.

"I'm here, just woke up and decided to work on the machine I need to fix father's car. There any coffee left?"

"Yes, half a pot, I snagged some already. So what is this supposed to be?

"A three-dimensional printer. Some scientists made a printer that can make 3-dimensional objects out of a special paper. I decided the concept could be used for much more than just inanimate objects, and much more than paper. So the idea is to make this, and have it print an engine, then just bolt the engine in."

"And it will make moving parts?"

"Well, that is the theory involved. At worst, I can simply print all the individual parts at once, then put the engine together, but that will take much more time. Provided it works, we could be able to save money on all kinds of things too, and just make out own."

"Oh, I've no doubt it'll work, Have confidence. After all, it's built on a solid technological foundation, right?"

"Of course!"

"Why don't you put the tools down and have breakfast? Take a break?"

"Well, we are ahead of schedule...Jeeves let's take a break."

"Of course mistress Min. I'll make the breakfast Mrs. Campbell, no need to trouble yourself."

"Alright, Jeeves. What do you intend to make?"

"Eggs benedict, perhaps with some summer sausage on the side."

"Not sure we even have all the ingredients for that."

"You do, I have a complete inventory of all kitchen supplies."

"All? Even the cookware?"

"Yes, of course. Proper tools make superior products."

"Coffee coffee coffee coffee...."

Straight to the coffee maker, ignoring the small talk.

"Mistress Min, please stop."

I turned to Jeeves.

"Why?"

"You should cease coffee consumption now, in order to better sleep. Please, help yourself to the apple cider I left for you in the refrigerator. I insist."

Grumbling, I headed towards the fridge instead. "you know, I really should open you up and fix you. You aren't the boss."

"I am not; however I worry about your health, and you have already spent all night working on your printer. And as you stated, we are ahead of schedule."

"Sigh, good point. But I don't feel tired at all."

"Then allow me to make a deal with you. drink one glass of the cider, then drink a mug of coffee; alternate between the two for me, please? The coffee is a well-known diuretic, and you will need your fluids."

"Another good point; alright. Cider it is this time. The plans are done at any rate; think you can handle the grunt work now?"

"I can finish the frame and spigot construction; however I think you will have to complete the mixing tank."

"Good morning Minerva, Jeeves, Mary."

"Good morning father. Coffee is fresh and breakfast is on the way."

"Nice; how are you all this morning?"

"Pretty good, I have the machine needed to fix your car on the workbench as we speak. The Cuda should be ready to drive by Monday, and Jeeves is making a breakfast I've never had before."

"Great. I was thinking, that since it's Saturday, and I don't have to work, I'd show you how the basics of how to play that guitar."

"That would be wonderful father! Can we practice in the garage? It looks like it's going to be a wonderful day; We can leave the garage door open and enjoy it."

"Sure Min, sounds fine with me. Breakfast first, though, calm down."

I stopped; I had been on the way upstairs to get the guitar.

"No need to look guilty Min, just first things first. Besides you still need to wash up and change clothes. that dress still looks great, but I'm sure it needs washed."

Oh, crap; I didn't even notice I hadn't changed clothes. This dress was perhaps a bit too comfortable. I sat back down.

"Whoops. Oh well, like dad said, breakfast first. Speaking of, how long till breakfast?"

"An estimated 20 minutes for yours, mistress Min."

"Holy crap that is forever. Well, I can always work a bit if no one minds a computer at the table?"

"I don't really if you don't mind my nose in a paper; Mary?"

"I guess it's alright, after all, you are working on something for the family."

"Heh, right."

I wasn't about to tell her that what I was going to work on was the phone internet access protocol. What she didn't know wouldn't hurt her, right?

So I worked on my project, father worked on reading his paper, and mother worked on some needlepoint until a biscuit looking thing with a weird sauce on it was brought past my nose.

"Is that it? looks kind of like an egg McMuffin to me, with a weird mayonnaise on it."

"That is not too far from the truth, honey. Alright, computer off the table. You can set it on the counter there, it'll be safe."

I moved the laptop. Then looked around again.

"So how soon till the rest are done? I only see mine."

"The others' breakfasts are currently in the oven, an estimated time of 2 minutes between them all. I could not make them all concurrently."

"Ahh, I understand. I'm the lab rat then. Oh well, here goes..."

I took a small bite... and it tasted amazing. Very different than what I was used to, but an explosion of wonderful tastes nonetheless.

"You do amazing work Jeeves. I simply must look into where you got your chef training."

"The answer to all life's questions mistress Min; the internet."

"Ha! good one."

"Morning everyone!"

We all chorused a good morning to Ian, our resident Saturday latecomer.

"...so that is what's for breakfast? Looks nasty."

"It's wonderful, just wait till you get yours."

I suited action to words, scarfing the treat down, much to mothers' unspoken but still palpable disapproval. She was eating hers at a more sedate pace. Father's had just arrived in front of him, and he was staring at it as skeptically as I had mine.

"So what do you plan to do today Ian?"

"Thought I'd go out. Feeling the urge to get some sun."

He caught my incredulous look.

"What? I do go out. Just not that often."

"Might go out later myself, been going a bit stir crazy myself, and yesterday doesn't really count in my opinion."

"If you do, make sure to take your phone."

"I will, Jeeves has it. Pretty sure he won't let me go anywhere alone in any event. At any rate, I'm done; may I be excused early? I'd like to change now."

"Sure, go clean up before you start stinking."

A reprieve! At least I wouldn't have to sit around doing nothing, or dishes.

"I'll meet you upstairs as soon as I finish breakfast mistress Min."

Oh, right...we had Jeeves for that now. Humming my way upstairs, I picked some clothes out of my closet; a pair of jeans that mother called 'low riders', some of the underwear we picked out, a set of basic black, and a gray tee shirt. Once in the bathroom I threw the clothes on the sink counter and shut the door. Then I realized I still had to unbutton this stupid dress.

"JEEVES! Get up here please."

I took him less than 20 seconds to knock on open the door.

"What is the matter, mistress Min?"

"I need help out of this stupid dress, of course."

"Ah. My apologies mistress Min."

"Yes, I tried to get them, but there is no give in the fabric."

He quickly unbuttoned me and took the ribbon from my hair.

"Will there be anything else mistress Min?"

"No, thank you. Sorry to have dragged you away from downstairs. I trust you didn't burn anything?"

"No mistress Min, I was just about to start dishes. I shall leave you now. Do not hesitate to call again should it be needful."

"...Alright."

He left and I locked the door, peeling the offending garment off and throwing it in the hamper.

A long leisurely shower later I was feeling a bit less disgusted with the entire situation. I left my hair loose and a bit damp, simply dressing. the jeans seemed to fit like another skin, and even with the tee shirt they left a little midriff bare, but mother said that was the style, and I'd seen it around in school myself. Plus it was casual and would hold up to my engine work, should I choose to do more today. To complete the ensemble, I added the lab coat, as we had forgotten to buy a coat yesterday and while the fall weather was pleasant, it was also a bit chilly.


Glasses in hand, I hit the kitchen doorway looking for coffee. It was waiting for me, as was Jeeves, brush in hand. I quirked an eyebrow... he was too good at reading me. There had to be a trick to it. Mother had her needlepoint again, and father was finishing his paper, so I took that as my cue, retrieving my laptop and letting it scan me (it had locked in sleep mode after 5 minutes) then putting my glasses on and sitting down. Jeeves started brushing my hair.

"Wow, sis. That scan thing was cool. So what are you working on?"

"the three-dimensional printer, and A new internet protocol for cell phones, so I can access my laptop from mine and use it's processor and memory to work on things while away from it."

"Um... it's a laptop. Why not just carry it around?"

"Some places I can't carry a laptop, whereas a phone would be acceptable."

I meant school of course, though the parents didn't need to know that. Pretty sure Ian figured it out.

"Just remember to keep it on vibrate honey, most place that frown on laptops also frown on loud rings."

So mother knows as well... but doesn't care? How very odd.

"Sure thing. Now, father, teach me teach me teach me teach me teach me teach me."

"OK Min, sheesh. Go get your guitar and meet me in the garage."

"Be right there. Jeeves when you're done with the dishes, could you carry my laptop upstairs please?"

"Of course mistress Min."

I'm pretty sure I set a sprint record getting up to my room, then back to the garage...wonder I didn't run into anyone. But finally, I would be able to play an instrument! I was so pumped.

"Alright, here are the strings, top to bottom is E A D G B E....plucking them with your pick there, with the other hand on the frets in concert, makes chords. You ideally want to chain the chords in such a way as to make people not want to flee screaming from you. In order to do that, you'll need to be able to read the music, or be able to play it by ear. So here is the music score for what I'm about to play. read it, and see if you can match the notes to what I'm playing."

"Alright. Go ahead."

The door was open, music flowed freely, and all was right with the world for several hours.

Mid-afternoon, I had ditched my coat and was playing my lovely new guitar, pacing up and down. My father and I had determined that I had an exceptional ear for music (I could hear it once, and knew which chords were which), and reading music was as gentle a breeze as the one caressing my face and moving my hair. Such a wonderful day! Then it all turned to ash as I spotted Ricky headed up the drive.

"Oh, shit! Dad, hide me!"

He grabbed my arm as I was about to bolt inside, the traitor.

"I don't think so Min, you'll need to do this sooner or later; might as well be now."

"Jeeves. a little help?"

"I think not mistress Min, I agree with your father."

"You're traitors, both of you." Crap, too late now.

"Myrc? Is that you? That is you, isn't it?"

"Yes it's me, Ricky...but I go by Minerva or Min now. How's your week been?"

"Pretty good. We've missed you at the game on Thursday. Lost by 2 without our power forward."

"I've been rather occupied. Well, this is a bit awkward. Take a good look at the new me, and get it out of your system. I'm done for today dad."

I no longer felt like playing anymore as Ricky did indeed gawk.

"come on, let's take a walk."

"OK."

We headed towards the park, Jeeves falling in behind us.

"So who is he?"

"That is just Jeeves, my butler."

"You rate a butler now?"

"Not really, but he's worried I'll keel over."

"What? you're still changing?"

"No, nothing of the sort. I finished yesterday. But this stupid body of mine got worse. I'm anemic now, which means I'm prone to passing out. No cool powers either. No flight, eyebeams, or mind bullets. The only thing cool to come from the entire thing is Jeeves."

"If I may interrupt mistress Min...your ability is your increased intelligence, which led to my construction."

"...What? Not sure I got that...but Min built you, you say?"

"Yes, I built him, Ricky, my amazing mutant power is the power to suddenly stroke off at odd times and build things in a type of sleepwalking daze. He's an android."

"That's actually pretty cool. Can you build more of them?"

I blinked.

"Yes, probably quite easily. Why? You want one?"

"My very own robot? Sure, who wouldn't?"

"Hmm, Never really thought about it. there might be a market for you Jeeves."

"Of course there is mistress Min, I am a marvel of modern technology."

"Ha! Good joke you suck up."

"....I don't get it."

"Of course not, Ricky, it's an inside joke. I built him out of car parts and junk."

"Really?"

Ricky turned around and poked Jeeves in the arm, leading to both of us quirking amused eyebrows at him.

"So let's hit the park, I'd love to see something resembling nature at the moment. Then afterward I'll show you my latest project, if you want."

"Sure. I'm fine with that."

There was silence for a few long moments as we soaked in the sunshine and fresh air. Then oh how rudely it was broken.

"So... are you really all girl?"

"I told you that already once Ricky. for pity's sake, yes I now have to sit down to pee. And before you ask about that, yes it is very annoying."

"Sorry, my bad, it's just...kind of a lot to deal with. We've known each other for years, and now you look completely different. It's a bit for me to take in."

"I'll tell you what I told my dad; you should try looking at it from this angle. Let's go this way."

I had spotted the park's basketball court in use, by some fellow teens I knew. Ricky was bad enough, I really didn't want to deal with some of the more donkey-like members of our local student body. So I led my little troupe deeper into the small copse of trees our park sported.

"that reminds me, did you tell anyone about my condition during the school week?"

"I told enough, it's the talk of the school. Everyone knows by now or they live under a rock."

"Good, should make this coming Monday at least a little easier."

"Not so sure about that one, but here's hoping. So... guitar huh? Didn't think your dad was ever going to teach you."

"Me either; but he relented. At least one plus for me. I seem to be a natural."

We basked in each other's company for some time, weaving among the trees and once again enjoying the silence (at least I was; Ricky still looked somewhat uncomfortable).

"Ugh, enough of this. I don't bite, you know, and I'm not contagious. Jeeves we still on schedule?"

"Yes mistress Min, we still have 41 minutes 23 seconds, estimated, before our actual progress meets the time projected."

"Good enough, time to go back. If you don't run off screaming Ricky, I'll show you what I'm making."

"Look Min, I'm sorry, it's just...."

"Save it please, just either follow or not. I don't need your apologies."

Once again awkward silence reigned what would have been an otherwise pleasant time. We made out way home without further incident; the park was fully deserted as we came back through, and while the streets were somewhat crowded, adults were no problem...they were at least halfway tactful in their stares and whispers. Or so I told myself, head held high and back straight. It was beginning to get chilly again however, so I hurried my steps, wanting my coat. I may not like X-ray much, but his choice in outerwear was dead on.

As soon as we reached the garage I threw that thing on, and let my computer scan my face. I pointed Ricky at the screen.

"that...is what I'm working on."

"Um, what is it?"

I looked again, and face palmed. Of course he couldn't read the schematic!

"It's a type of printer that prints objects. you put the material you want ot make the item out of here...and then these spigots run around spitting out small amounts of it in a programmed pattern which makes the object."

"Um, wow...sounds pretty space age."

"No, not really, It's current proven technology, I've just taken it one step further; mine should be able to make moving objects or objects of more than one part. Like for example, an engine for the 'Cuda."

"Whoa...you mean this thing might actually move without being pushed in my lifetime?"

I grinned at him. "If I have anything to say about it, yes."

"Cool. So um, you're going to work on it now, right?"

"Yes, that is the plan. Jeeves, spigot 4 needs attached to the frame on that mid length axis, 22.4 percent angle."

"yes mistress Min."

"Mind if I just take this seat here in the corner and watch out of the way?"

"If you're quiet, not really. Knock yourself out."

"Cool."

"OK Jeeves, coffee time. Please get a mountain dew for Ricky as well."

Tools in hand, I got to work.

Sometime during that session, Ricky left...I couldn't say exactly when, or what he said if anything when he did. I know I muttered some kind of response when he did, but I don't think it was very coherent. But the important thing was the machine.

"Mistress Min, you should rest."

Jeeves was shaking me gently when I finally came back to myself, power screwdriver in hand. All at once the crushing fatigue of the day hit me. I blinked a bit, realizing the machine was almost complete.

"But Jeeves, We're almost done here! Barring any unfortunate setbacks, we can't be more than 2 hours away."

"I agree with your assessment mistress Min, but unfortunately you are at your limit. You must sleep. If you'd like, I can finish up the printer tonight in your stead. I can consult your laptop to finish it with your permission."

"Sure, go ahead. Though I reserve the right to look the thing over when I wake, to make sure. I'd rather not have it blow up on us."

"Of course mistress Min, but for now, let's get you to bed."

Jeeves escorted me throught the silent house, almost completely holding me up as we walked. It was after midnight, and everyone else had long since gone to sleep themselves. Once to my room, Jeeves handed me some powder blue flannel pajamas and left. I put the garments on vaguely happy they weren't pink, each movement making me exponentially more tired, as I crashed. These high and low spells did seem to be getting better though, at least I didn't just pass out on the floor.

Jeeves came back with an insulated travel mug full of chamomile, and tucked me in. I had to remember to tweak him, some of his behavior was completely unacceptable....

"Mistress Min, please wake up, it is morning." Are you kidding me? Already?

"murrrghhh."

"Mistress Min, it is 6:30 am, your normal weekday wake up time."

"It's sunday Jeeves, what the hell?"

"I am aware; however keeping a proper sleep schedule is fundamental to your health."

"There had better be coffee within arm's reach, or I am going to fine tune you...with a crowbar."

"There is mistress Min, and I have good news. I finished the project last night."

"I expected no less. Any unforeseen problems?"

"None at all mistress Min, it awaits your showered and dressed presence for it's shakedown trial."

"Heh. got you...so what is for breakfast today?"

"Simplicity itself mistress Min, french toast, scrambled eggs, and sausage. It will be sitting in your usual place by the time you finish showering."

He left me to my thoughts, such as they were. I never had this much trouble waking up before; it must have something to do with my stupid blood. With that in mind I took the pills next to the coffee cup, threw them in my mouth and drank the coffee down. Hopefully enough of those would stabilize me. Grabbing
another tee shirt and jeans I made my way to the bathroom. I'd been lucky lately, every time I wanted to shower in the morning, the bathroom had been empty; normally it was a 50/50 chance Ian was in, as the 'rents had their own bathroom off the master bedroom.

Today, a knock proved Ian was inside. And I dared not go in, for even though I'd seen it all before, I was a member of the enemy gender now, and I was sure just barging in would get objections. So I settled for the next best thing.

"Hey Ian, get your butt out of the bathroom, I need to go."

"Hold your horses, wench. Almost done."

"A wench am I? what, are we back in the days of gas lights run by whale oil now?"

"...huh?"

"Sterling commentary Ian, absolutely top notch. Don't forget to wash your hands now little brother, hate for you to catch something from yourself."

I heard some grumbling, then the sink tap turn on from my position against the door.

"So what is Ian doing this Sunday?"

"Not much sis, thought I'd lounge around and play some Halo."

"Hmm, almost sounds like fun... maybe I'll join you. Or maybe I'll try those games that came with my laptop."

The door opened so fast I almost fell.

"New games? PC games? Why didn't you say so?"

"Heh, same old Ian." I dodged past him and into the bathroom, rapidly shedding clothes. After a quick seat on the toilet (still annoying!) I made sure to check the shower settings, as Ian had gotten me that way once, and I do learn. Readjusting it (he's so predictable) I took my shower and patted dry. I was sure Jeeves would want to mess with my hair again, so I left it mostly alone. and hit the stairs.

Sure enough breakfast was there, and so was Jeeves, brush in hand. I headed straight to the mug of coffee next to the plate, nodding to mom and dad.

"Well, is today the big day? We noticed you working very late last night."

"Yes, Jeeves finished the final adjustments. I plan to check it over, give the machine a shakedown then start it up. The 'Cuda should have a working engine by
tonight, father."

"That seems a bit fast, are you sure?"

"Of course, early morning at the latest. It should be no problem at all, provided the printer works as expected."

"don't stress yourself honey, if you get tired, you stop today, alright?"

"Of course mother, I'll simply have Jeeves finish it, he proved capable enough last night."

I ate at a sedate pace, for once matching mother, rather than father. Jeeves toyed with my hair, and even Ian was quiet for once. A nice pleasant breakfast;
at least until Ian looked at me and snorted.

"Ha, sis, you really need to fix Jeeves."

"What now? Jeeves what are you doing now?"

"I am braiding your hair mistress Min. You intend to do engine work today, I'd rather not see your hair get caught in any moving parts."

"There you go, perfectly good reason for it. Though I'm still not sure if I want to chop it off or not, Jeeves is thinking ahead."

"whatever you say sis."

"And on that note, shall we abscond to the garage and check Jeeves' work? Not that I don't trust you Jeeves, but I was thinking of a few last minute improvements we could implement..."

"The schedule, mistress Min. We must consider the schedule."

"True, once school starts back up Monday I won't have much time at all for this. Oh well, just a few absolutely necessary ones then, won't take more than a few minutes."

I wasted no further time, opening my computer and checking the schematics against the reality. I made a few adjustments, pointing them out to Jeeves as I worked... a half a degree change on armature 4, a slight loosening of bolt 47 to make sure it had just a little give so the mixing tank could swing, some other small things. Then I started the diagnostic.

We all watched as the machine checked all its motors, flexing its armatures, turning the spigots on and off, rotating around it's object platform. Then my laptop beeped as it checked the connection to the printers CPU and the software required to run it. Not 2 minutes later it was done; everything had checked out perfectly fine and in the green.

"OK, it all checks out. Time to test it. Jeeves could you set the junk engine there?"

I got the engine specifications loaded while Jeeves picked up one of the junk engines father had brought me, a truck's V8 of some kind, and brought it close.

"Ready mistress Min?"

"All set, drop it in."

He heaved the engine, but as he neared the mixing tank flexed, the top lid opening into serrated metal jaws. With a weird extension,the jaws lifted up and snapped around the engine; Jeeves barely managed to get his arms out of the way.

I looked from the unflappable face of Jeeves to the awed shock of my family which I felt better represented my own expression.

"Ummm...it's not supposed to do that."

"Indeed, I'd advise not trying to directly place anything in the mixing tank, Campbell family. Mistress Min, you are not allowed within 8.2 feet of this tank unless the device is turned off."

"No arguments here."

I checked the laptop again. "Well at least the programming looks sound; it's already starting."

No sooner had I spoke then the mixing tank started churning, it's sides already beginning to glow with transferred heat.

"Minerva, what does the mixing tank use to generate that heat?"

"Nothing much father, just a boosted microwave convection; see the box off to the side?"

"...That was a microwave? Nevermind, my question is, is the tank capable of handling the type of temperatures it's generating to melt steel? and the melted steel itself?"

"Of course it is father! I mean I know the mixing tank is a little disconcerting, but it should absolutely work to well past the tolerances we are using it for."

I brought up my calculations on the laptop.

"See? Triple checked."

"...OK, if you're sure."

"Sure I'm sure! we can leave the machine to work if you'd rather; the hard part is done; now we just sit back and wait."

"Sounds good, your mom and I need to go for a bit again today, we should be back by noon. Um, could you leave Jeeves out here to make sure the house doesn't burn down
or melt or something?"

"Have some faith! but yes I can, was planning on it anyway. Have fun! Going to go read or something."

I grabbed some coffee and went upstairs while everyone else filed back in, leaving Jeeves to his lonely fate. I started with my new algebra and calculus texts. I heard Ian booting up his Xbox next door through the open doorways.

"Good luck in there Ian."

"Hah, luck is for people without skill sis, but thanks. Plan on joining me later?"

"Maybe, still thinking of some computer tinkering later. But for now, I want to make sure my integers are up to the tasks I need them for."

"Better you than me."

I buckled in, and hours passed. I was almost finished with the second text when I heard steps on the stairs. I could still hear the silly sounds of Halo, so
I knew it wasn't Ian.

"Who's there? Jeeves that you?"

"Yes mistress Min, I came to inform you that something seems to be wrong. The machine seems well behind schedule, and not performing properly."

"Oh crap, better check it."

I ran downstairs, passing Jeeves, visions of explosions dancing in my brain. What greeted me however, was far different. The three-dimensional printer was working fine, it had already printed about an inch of material. I watched it work for a moment as Jeeves joined me. It was simply working too slow. The precision was there, but the time taken to achieve it was way below projections.

"Oh crap, I'm an idiot. I know what's wrong, be right back. Just keep making sure it doesn't go all TNT on us."

I ran back upstairs, grabbing some speakers, my headphones, and the game discs for the laptop and ran back downstairs. I set the speakers into the laptop and ranked them up, using iTunes to create a playlist. Soon the strains of some nice remixes were floating through the air. I started loading one of the games
"craft of war" on the lap while bopping along, setting the game sounds to filter directly to the headphones while Jeeves watched. Checking the programming through my laptop again, I confirmed what I'd half guessed. The introduction of the music had actually sped up the machine, and it was now responding 49%
faster.

Jeeves said nothing, simply sitting down beside me and watching. Soon I was bopping to the music and moving little orcs around the screen, terrorizing the online world of Maisroth within the tutorial.

"What's with all the noise?" Ian yelled from the doorway.

"Nothing really, just the party is down here! Come in, and bring me some coffee! Your goddess demands coffee!"

"Whatever sis, coming."

He came back with the required sacrifice, looking around.

"So what's the deal? we starting a rave in the garage? Ansd since when do you actually listen to crap like that?"

I pointed behind me.

"...Holy shit sis; it's dancing!"

I looked again myself. The spigots were wheeling around each other, armatures weaving in and out; even the mixing tank was shifting in time.

"...Yes I guess it is."

I went back to the game.

"So that's normal?"

"...Why wouldn't it be?"

"...Right. So is this the new Craft of War game? I so wanted to play this when it came up, but my crappy PC wouldn't run it."

"Well mine will, so sit back, I'll let you take a turn in a bit."

After the tutorial I went straight to online multiplayer, making and moving my armies with reckless abandon. It did not take me long to understand the mechanics and basic strategies involved in the game. So I was climbing in the rankings fairly quickly. Oddly, Ian did not utter a single peep once I'd gotten going, preferring to watch me, apparently.

"Sure you don't want a turn?"

"Positive, watching you own these guys is pretty enjoyable. More coffee?"

"No, I can't, made a deal with Jeeves. Can you grab me some of the juice instead?"

"Sure, coming up."

The next game started as he came back with the juice.

"No, you should scout. take one of your little miner guys, and move him all around the map so you can see where your opponent is, and what he's building. Vision is very important in a game like this."

"Ah, and I just build another miner to mine, cause this one likely won't live."

"Yep, that's it."

"Seems harsh; that poor little guy, I want to see him make it back."

"Well I'm not saying don't try it. It's just not likely, and his information will save all kinds of lil guys of yours."

We played a bit more; at some point, Ricky had joined us. I didn't even notice until he leaned over and said.

"So, what's that one doing?"

"Oh he's casting unhallowed soil, to buff my ghouls, and damage the other guys archers."

"Cool; Nice game."

"Yes, it's pretty fun. So what brings you over?"

"Just wanted to hang out; see what you were doing. Any more robots built after I left yesterday?"

"Nah, I did finish the printer though."

"Yep, I see that, it's just chugging away. Kind of weird seeing half an engine there though. I am assuming the mixing tank is supposed to be glowing and giving off heat waves like that?"

I minimized the game and checked.

"Well within tolerances. Jeeves?"

"All seems well, I am alert."

"Of course you are. All is well Ricky."

"Gotcha; you're getting attacked."

"Shit!"

I almost lost the game; as it was I lost half my city.

"So I heard you got the new shooter as part of your software pack."

I pointed on the workbench, where the paper sleeve containing said game could clearly be seen.

"That's going in next, right after I win this."

"Hey, Ian, could you go get that controller you have?"

"Real gamers QWERTY, wimp."

"Whatever shrimp; just get it."

I glared at Ricky a minute, and he had the good grace to catch on and shoot me an apologetic glance.

"Whatever, I won, installing this thing now."

I checked on the printer again while the computer loaded the game. All was in the green, though the mixing tankw as nearing yellow. I checked the temperature and reduced the microwave pulse width accordingly. Then I simply attached the controller Ian handed me and got out of the way.

"I'm going to get some more coffee; Jeeves you want anything?"

"No mistress Min, I conducted maintenance last night; I am fine. Thank you for asking though."

"Suit yourself. Be right back."

I brought back my coffee, and two mountain dews, which I set in front of the resident game zombies, then settled back to watch the fun. Ricky was truly so awful at shooters, it was inspiring. I mean, how could anyone do worse? At least it was entertaining to watch. After about an hour of this though, we were
interrupted by a slightly pleasant yet also somehow slightly annoying 'ding!'.

"Mistress Min..."

"Right, it's done! Just needs to cool a bit on top, then we can throw it in."

Ian and Ricky just stared at me.

"A microwave chime sis? Really?"

"Sure why not? I mean, it was just lying there, and it serves the purpose, doesn't it?"

"No sense of style at all."

"Whatever. Break time is over. Time to get to work again."

I shut down the printer from my laptop and grabbed a socket wrench.

"time to pull an engine; you two want to help?"

"um, sure. Just tell us what to do."

"All you too really need to do is hold lights and tools and such; I don't want to get blamed if you screw something up. I'd rather get blamed if I screw up."

"Fair enough."


And so we got to work, Jeeves and I handling the heavy stuff (mostly Jeeves there, he'd simply lift the front end of the car, allowing me underneath) and Ricky and Ian on light and tool handling duty, respectively. Though I almost had them switch several times...Ricky dropped the light more than once. Not something you want to have happen at all. He was our team's best ball handler for pity's sake!

"Dinner time! We come bearing pasta!"

"We're in here, on our way! Jeeves could you do me a favor and finish up? I'd keep helping but pretty sure mom would drag me away. As for after, well..."

"You are fatigued; I know.' He approached me and lifted my face to meet his eyes. "I'd be happy to mistress Min, there is no need to feel guilty; I exist to serve you."

How could he do that? He always knew what I was thinking, and what to say.

"Thank you Jeeves, would you like me to leave the music on?"

"No, thank you mistress Min; I appreciate the thought, but you might need your laptop."

"Alright. Let me know if there is something I can do to help."

I went inside and shut the door behind me, leaning against it.

"Something wrong honey? You look a little flustered." Mom looked up from placing plates on the table.

"No, everything is fine; dad, your engine is done, Jeeves is finishing up the install now. It should be ready to drive by tomorrow, easily."

"That's great! No problems on that front?"

"No it's done, and it's being tested now. The old engine is pretty much out."

"Wow, faster than I expected."

From the garage we heard a nice throaty roar. I smiled.

"I do good work."

Seeing the look of unbridled joy on my father's face almost made the entire past week worthwhile. Almost.

"Can't celebrate quite yet father; it'll be around 4 more hours before the Cuda is ready. But a working engine we do have. If you want, you can speed up the process by helping Jeeves, but I intend to get some sleep. I feel quite tired again."

"That reminds me, next Saturday we have an appointment with Dr. Halleck...a check up on your anemia, to determine if the medication is helping, or if more aggressive measures are necessary to get it under control."

"...Joy."

As is our family tradition, once the plates were set conversation stopped and we focused on chowing down. I tried to emulate my mother this time, taking smaller bites, not resting my arms on the table. This earned a nod of approval as father and Ian pigged out, oblivious. As soon as I finished, Mother made shooing motions at me. I did not argue.

Instead I stuck my tongue out at Ian in passing, knowing he'd be the one to do dishes, and made my way to my room, shed my clothes, and buried myself in covers, dreading what morning would bring.

"Mistress Min, time to wake and ready yourself for school."

I rolled over to see Jeeves smiling at me with a tray of coffee and croissants, both still steaming.

"I'm afraid I'm sick; you'd better call in for me."

He set the tray down and felt my head with the back of his hand, in a time-honored tradition. I really shouldn't have built that sensor in there...

"Mistress Min, other than a slight blood pressure differential, you are within tolerances. I refuse to call the school for you. Please get ready for school."

"Traitor." I dubbed him as he left, no doubt to ready breakfast for everyone else. I fired up my laptop while chewing, checking the latest news.

Sigh. I really did not want to do this.

"Min? Better get ready."

"Don't suppose I can convince you that I'm sick mom?"

"Not a chance, I already spoke to Jeeves. It won't be as bad as you think honey, I promise."

"Sigh. Alright, this is me getting ready. How's the weather look?"

"You might need a jacket, but it's sunny out. you should be fine with just a tee shirt later if you want."

"I do want; plain clothes are the order of the day.' I grabbed some, suiting action to my words. 'Seen what Jeeves did to my old clothes yet? You should look in my closet; it's positively shocking."

"Well since you invited me, I might. Got to admit he cooks a mean breakfast, though."

"Alright well, jeans and tee it is then. I'll be right down."

I barely beat Ian to the bathroom door and gave him the finger as I closed and locked it. He seemed a bit surprised, but let it pass. After a quick shower to wake up (relatively, this stupid hair was longer than ever, and this body seemed to be getting more sensitive each day; scrubbing was out.) I dressed and made my way downstairs for more coffee. Jeeves was waiting, brush in hand next to my usual spot, a steaming cup of bliss waiting for me.

Next to the steaming cup of bliss, which I took and sipped, were papers. The school identity of one Minerva Campbell, age 14, to be exact.

"You don't mind dropping those off do you? I need to do some errands today."

"No problem, I've got it."

I checked my clock inset on the microwave. It showed that the time was nigh, and the sword of Damocles was set to drop. Jeeves finished making breakfast for everyone else just before Ian appeared, looking far too chipper for a morning.

"Good morning, loving family! what's up?"

"You are Ian, please have some sympathy for those of us that aren't yet."

"But you're upright and everything sis."

"It's a foul and odious lie."

"Whatever. Thanks, Jeeves, looks great." Chewing loudly on a croissant he sat down, looking over at the stack of papers.

"You're going to be bored out of your skull sis."

"Oh, like I'm not bored to death in school already? You're talking to the person that championed the 'sleeping hall' idea."

"Never you mind, you'll see."

I dragged my feet some more, glancing between my apparently unconcerned parents until Jeeves snapped me out of it.

"It is time to leave mistress Min. If you wait any longer, you might not arrive on time."

"Ugh, ok."

I got up to leave; Jeeves already had my bookbag but did not hand it over. I arched my eyebrow at him.

"I shall accompany you, of course, to make sure you come to no harm."

I looked to my parents. Neither had looked up from their morning reading.

"Whatever, let's go then."

I led the way out into the sunshine, which contrasted the bitter chill nicely. In two steps I had turned around, only to find Jeeves handing me my lab coat, which I would have sworn hadn't been in his hands before. Shrugging, I put it on. Jeeves cleared his throat as I turned around. I looked back to see my
glasses in his outstretched hand. After a short nonverbal battle of wills, I took those as well and put them on.

Ricky was waiting for me at the usual corner, ball in hands and looking kind of lost.

"You ok? You seem a bit out of it."

"Yeah I'm fine, you're just a bit late is all."

"Blame this joker,' I pointed at Jeeves. 'I do." Yes, I knew that wasn't fair, but Jeeves took it in silence, as expected.

"Heh, what did he do, forget the coffee?"

"Something like that. Oh, before I forget, here."

I handed over the cd I'd had Jeeves make during the night.

"What's this?" He took it, admiring the cover art that Jeeves had made for it.

"That is Avenged Sevenfold, as requested. Things got a bit hectic around the old homestead, but I did not forget."

"Awesome, thanks man, I really appreciate it."

We walked along in a somewhat awkward but somewhat comfortable silence, interspersed with the staccato drumming of ball to pavement. I stopped as the school came into view, not realizing it till I felt Jeeves's gentle hands clasp my shoulders, starting me moving again. His breath tickled my ear.

"There is nothing to fear, mistress Min. I will not let them hurt you."

I steeled myself and walked up, following Ricky and maybe hiding behind him a little. I noticed I wasn't really late, the first bell was still maybe 5 minutes off, but everyone already seemed to be here. No parking spaces in the small lot, and what looked to be every kid in town just casually hanging out at the front door. I set myself and walked past the whispering crowd. I could pick out a few snippets, but nothing concrete or damning:

"Can you believe it? Shes..."

"Is she really Myrc?"

"What the... no way!"

Head held high, I ignored everyone till I reached the door proper, and there was the principal himself, Mr. Macenroe was waiting.

"Good morning Minerva, how are you today?"

"I've been better Mr. Mcenroe, and yourself? What brings you to the front door to mingle with the hoi piloi?"

"Well, I'm afraid it's about Jeeves. Since he isn't related to you, and not a listed guardian, we can't let him in... he will have to leave school grounds."

I took in his apologetic face, trying to keep my heart from jumping out of my mouth and running off back down the street.

"It is alright mistress Min, The day is pleasant, I will wait outside. Excuse me Mr. Mcenroe is it not? Those rules do not apply to catered or delivered meals do they?"

"No Jeeves they do not, we typically have some meal deliveries from some people who don't like our cafeteria, and some students leave to get take out as well."

"Then I will see you at lunch mistress Min."

He took my hand and kissed it farewell, whispering; "If you need me, simply call... I will be near." And he walked off, amid more whispers.

"Alright, Mr. Mcenroe, could you please take these? They are headed to your office anyway."

I handed him the paperwork from my coat and grabbed the book bag Jeeves was forced to leave.

"Sure, I'll see they get filed. Welcome back Minerva."

I waved at him as I walked past, not really trusting myself to speak. I had really hoped Jeeves could have simply stood in back, watching me, ready to bust me out of this madhouse at a word. Sigh. Oh well, first class of the day. I saw at our customary table a kite that looked suspiciously like something I'd made sitting on it, with a large A stuck to it with tape. When had I...?

"Hey. You got us an A after all, I didn't think that helicopter kite would fly at all." Ricky stated, walking in.

"I honestly don't remember making it, or giving it to you... but I must have."

"Yeah you were still pretty out of it. But it worked like a charm, the slightest breeze started the rotors, which made it all but fly."

"I don't doubt it at all, it's all proven technology."

I stared at the stylized sharks maw fondly. The paper rotor blades were in the teeth. The rest of the class filed in as I set it aside. their own faces mainly filled with varying degrees of dismay as they took in their own project grades. I looked away before I could reasonably be considered to have made eye contact with anyone.

"Good morning class, as you can see your final grades for last week's lab are completed; I was pleasantly surprised by many of you. Ah, miss Campbell, welcome back. I was most pleased with your project. The straws used for inner struts were inspired."

"Thank you sir, pleased to be back."

Hey a little white lie never hurt anyone, right?

"Alright class, settle down. To begin the week, we will now look at fish. Guess you all know what that means for lab on Wednesday, right? To start, anyone know what adaptations make fish at home underwater?"

...and cue boring lecture. Rather than deal with that I decided to just read my textbook; after all it couldn't be more boring than Mr Welsh, right? Right? And somehow it wasn't. I admit I got lost in a world of fish adaptations for a time...and I suspect Mr welsh saw what I was doing and just let me read. The real mystery was Ricky, who was quiet the entire hour. I'd look up to see him looking everywhere but at me.

The bell rang and I sighed, knowing I had so much more of this torture to go. I packed up to go and waited for everyone else to leave, only then moving myself. No sooner Had I taken a step outside then I was aware of the entire physics class loitering just outside, and a few more besides. Of course my math
class was all the way at the other end of the hall.

In short, crap was about to hit the fan earlier than I had hoped but about when I expected, and I was screwed. Not letting the stomach butterflies pop out my mouth and ruin their rather obvious surprise, I strode towards my second class, also ignoring the assorted stampeding of the entire school behind me.

"OK, if you're going to be jerks about this, you should at least try to be a little more subtle... this is down right unprofessional." I said loudly without turning around.

"I see you finally went for it, eh Myrc?"

At least my accuser was who I thought it'd be. Good old Gordan, you can always depend on him. I turned around, and at least one of those with him was a mild surprise. I expected Bernard of the mutant hate train fame, but I didn't expect Pam on the other side of Gordon.

"Excuse me?"

"You finally go for the whole gay crossdressing thing, right fag?"

He couldn't. He couldn't possibly be this stupid.

"I look like a crossdresser? You!" I pointed to someone I vaguely knew.

"Harry, do I look like I'm cross-dressing to you?"

Gordon slammed me into the lockers to my left painfully, knocking the wind from me and rapping my skull... I sagged onto him.

"Don't twist my words freak! Don't think I won't kick your ass cause you look like a girl!"

"Idiot, I AM a girl!' I wheezed. 'Furthermore, if I ever was gay I can't possibly be any more, I can only be straight or a lesbian! You win, ok? I can't fight you like this. So do your worst!"

When He let go I fell of course, and was just starting to look up into his shell-shocked face when Ricky plowed directly into Gordon with a tackle that would make 'Flash' himself proud. I had never seen him so pissed. I swear I heard bones break as Ricky pounded away like a piston, battering Gordon multiple
times before Bernard pulled him off.

I blearily looked around, noting faces as the teachers finally waded through, pulling the two combatants apart.

"hey you ok?"

"been better Margeret, how are you?"

Margeret 'maggie' Johnson, a rather tall willowy brunette who fancied herself a journalist offered her hand, concern writ on her face in neon, helped me up.

"Thanks."

I turned to Mr. welsh, who was basically sitting on Ricky.

"Sir, he defended me, i'd appreciate it if you'd let him up."

Mr. welsh warily complied, asking the crowd in general and me in particular:

"Alright so what happened?"

"Gordon attacked me sir, Ricky came to my defense." I burted, aware now that I had tears, actual tears, leaving hot damning tracks down my cheeks.

Mr. Welsh heaved a heavy sigh.

"Really flash? Even after the this morning's assembly?"

"That's not how it happened, Mr Welsh!" Bernard yelled.

"Then how did it happen Monty?"

"She punched first Mr welsh!"

Before I could get my outrage worked up to truly incandescent levels, my rage was derailed by the normally easygoing Mr. Welsh's biting words.

"Son, don't take me for a fool. Get out of here now, and pray I forget your possible involvement. Anyone want to tell me the truth?"

"Sir, it happened just as Minerva said. I saw the whole thing... and so did most everyone here."

Maggie, to my defense! I'll never call her a hack again! I turned to Ricky; he was already beginning to show evidence of taking a few shots to the face himself, and was cradling his right hand with his left. But as our eyes met he grinned, and I had to shake my head.

"Ricky, I swear I can't take you anywhere."

"Sorry, you know me... any excuse at all for that bastard. I Think I got a date with our loving principal; see you in a bit."

"Yeah, don't forget the nurse too."

He waved as he left, escorted by Mr. welsh and a fuming Gordon, all practiced nonchalance. Picking up my bookbag I heard Mr Welsh yell:

"Anyone still in the halls not named Campbell in one minute is late... Miss Campbell, take all the time you need; see the nurse if you feel the need."

"Thank you, sir, but I feel fine."

"Hey, come on." Maggie said, yanking me to my feet rather easily; I think my feet left tile for a moment. Maybe Maggie was a mutant?

"Where do you want me to go?"

"Hey hey, it's nothing like that!" She leaned in close, allowing me a whiff of what smelled almost like... cinnamon?

"I just thought you'd like to clean up before class, you know."

"Ahh, good point I suppose... so what did Mr. Welsh mean about an assembly? I didn't get any notice."

"Uuuhh well, I probably shouldn't say but you'll hear about it anyway, sooner or later. The assembly was basically about you. I mean, they didn't mention you by name exactly, but everyone sort of knew it was. Mr. Mcenroe called an early morning assembly for 7:30 today, and regaled us all with ideas on what the word tolerance meant. Specifically, tolerance for others who may be different, and those who may be less fortunate than others."

I groaned so hard it sounded like a monster prowling the halls.

"Just freaking great, wonder if he wants to unload the other barrel now?"

Then I saw where I was being led. The girl's restroom, den of potential evil and beatings. Maggie hadn't let go of my hand... and when I slowed (a natural response I think) she yanked on it again.

"Come on, even with Mr. Welsh's blessing we need to hurry!"

"Um, I don't think..."


She turned, assuming a classic annoyed pose, leaning away from me, tapping her foot and arms crossed.

"What? It's pretty obvious by looking at you that you aren't faking at all, you aren't dressed up or anything. You can't seriously be thinking of holding it all day either."

"...Maybe?"

"Hah, no way girl, just won't happen. Come on, no one is going to object, they are all in class, remember?"

She grabbed my hand again, and pulled me inside.

The first thing I noticed was the smell... it was more pleasant then the men's room, but only barely. No urinals of course, a machine of some sort in the corner next to the hand dryers, sinks with large mirrors posted in front of them. The eggshell blue paint with pink accents was different though, and didn't really match the dirty white floor tiles. I looked carefully, there was indeed no one present save us.

"Come on, come on!" Maggie stood in front of the first mirror, damp paper towels in hand.

"You get your face, I'll get the dirt off your clothes, ok?"

"Um, sure."

I grabbed a towel or two and started wiping the tears off... thank goodness they weren't that noticeable. Maggie wiped my coat free of dirt (stain resistance for the win).

"Hold on a second, got a spider web or something on your jeans here." She yanked hard on my jeans, straightening them and wiping all the foreign substance away... whatever it was.

"So um, how did you get your hair braided like that? loose but with a ring holding it in place?"

"Hm? Oh Jeeves does it, no idea how."

"Drat, was hoping you could teach me, it looks amazing on you."

"Thanks, but It's really done that way cause Jeeves doesn't want me to cut it."

"That would be a crime, your hair is beautiful! So, is Jeeves like your butler or something?"

"Something like that; he's new, I only got him last week. Knows all sorts of things though."

"Right, we'd better go. Come on!"

Again with the hand grabbing. Now she was running down the halls! I had to sprint or be dragged, but we made it to Mr. Mullins' class. He didn't even bat an eye as we walked in late and sat down. But then I realized from my vantage, the blackboard was hazy and indistinct. Just great... I had lost my glasses then
forgot about them!

"Hey." whispered Ralph from right next to me.

"What's up Ralph?"

"I believe these are yours." he whispered back, carefully looking away so as not to garner notice. He had my glasses, and they weren't broken! Whew"

"Thanks Ralph, they are."

I carefully checked them over for scratches, and finding none put them on. Now I could make out the blackboard, mistakes and all. Well that was annoying, Mr. Mullins had a 3 instead of a 2 for the solution. I turned to see Ralph looking at me, and remembered. Note passing time. I wrote it, rather astonished that my calligraphy had improved:

"You knew, didn't you?"

His note responded: "No, but I suspected; I'll explain later."

I nodded to him and turned to the blackboard once again, trying to focus. It was so odd... a week ago I'd be asleep, but I just couldn't calm down with that error glaring at me. It annoyed me to no end for some reason, and I just could not pin down why. The bell rang before I could figure it out.

This time I joined the throng quickly, hoping it'd be more difficult to single me out as a member of the herd. But as I passed the blackboard I quickly wrote that pesky 2 in it's proper place. There, harmony restored. Geography time, but this class I didn't have a book for, so I kept a wary eye out for assholes while pit stopping at my locker. I saw Maggie surrounded by a sea of girls and threw a hesitant wave as I passed, which she returned with a smile.

I was able to get to Geography without any further incidents thank goodness, sitting down and making myself as small as possible... which was pretty small. This was truly hostile territory; I had no friends of any stripe here.

Oddly enough that seemed to help, because other than feeling the entire rooms' worth of eyes on me in turns like a bunch of mini-suns boring into my skin, the class passed uneventfully as we learned about Poland (continuing on our rhine theme). It was a relief in a way, I was able to listen to Mrs. Carson drone and read. Soon this blissful solace ended, and I was faced with the class I'd been trying to forget: gym.

I didn't think I'd be allowed to participate at all, after all Ralph wasn't... but he was forced to sit in the Gym and watch while doing whatever it was he did, dodging the random 'accidental' ball thrown his direction; was that to be my fate?

I again did the vanish into the herd thing, only it didn't seem to be working very well; everyone was looking at me and whispering again; damn this hair! I didn't need to empathize with Ralph more! At the entrance to the Gym I saw someone I almost never had any contact with, assistant coach Ruth Howard, wife of coach Howard of basketball fame, and resident female coach handling pretty much all the teams that weren't coached by parents.

"Just who I wanted to see! good day to you Miss Campbell, unfortunately due to health concerns, yadda yadda yadda, you know what I'm getting at here, right?"

"Yes, I do, ride the bench cause you're afraid I'll go all crazy and kill everyone with my mad amazing skills?"

"Well actually, the opposite... you're anemic, you get a pass."

"Sigh... I'd have liked it more if you'd told me the other thing."

"I know Minerva; look at it this way though; at least you can get all your homework done before you leave school. That's always a plus, right?"

"I suppose... Thanks anyway. Good luck with your charges today."

"Good luck with your homework."

I waved and sat on the bleachers, getting out my geography; the only book I brought and slowest to read.

"Hey. Not there." Ralph, my partner in boredom?

"What do you mean?"

"You're in the first bleacher, a prime spot to have someone accidentally run over you or chuck balls at your head."

"The voice of depressing experience? Alright where do you normally hang out?"

"Around the side here, much harder to target you, they need to arc things, and they can't run over you."

"OK. So what do you normally do during gym?"

"Just hang out really, watch the fun from a safe seat."

"Sounds boring."

"Well there is something else I do, and you're going to find out anyway I think."

He pulled out an obviously lovingly crafted origami crane.

"Neat, so you learn to make these?"

"Yep. You want to try?"

"Um, sure."

He handed me paper and a book. 'Origami for beginners'.

"You go ahead and pick what you want and go to work, I'm not much of a teacher."

"K."

And that it what occupied my time, I made sad mutant creations best left unspoken, but dubbed frogs for convenience, while Ralph made some wonderful cranes from colored paper. When the bell rang I crumpled my own creations up in disgust and threw them out.

"Sorry, I kind of wasted your paper. I'll bring you some more tomorrow."

"No problem, it's cheap enough. That last frog didn't look bad."

"Heh yes it did, no need to sugarcoat it, it was awful."

"These things can't be picked up immediately."

"I guess so... lunchtime. See you later."

Quickly leaving before I could get surrounded somehow, I made my way to the front door. No Jeeves, I wonder where he was; I was kind of expecting him here, school rules or not.

Wait, that was an arrow the exact color of my hair, pointing outside! Pretty sure that wasn't there before. Cautiously I followed it, expecting Jeeves but ready for anything. Outside under a large maple tree, a somewhat sturdy folding table and cushioned chair were placed, with a covered plate, silverware, a bottle of something that might be wine, and a lit candle! And standing next to all of that was Jeeves.

"Jeeves? Is all this your doing?"

"Mistress Min, welcome! Of course it is my doing. Is there something wrong with my choice of location?"

"No, no, it's fine. Your elaborate preparations just took me by surprise is all. So what's for lunch?"

"Salmon spinach feta quiche with sparkling white grape juice. I apologize for the beverage, but you're underage."

"Alright, I'll pretend I knew what you just said. I'm trusting you here."

He moved the chair for me, I sat and he adjusted it, then uncovered the plate. He poured a glass of the jiuce while I picked up fork, playing the butler role to the hilt. Looking around I could see we had gained a small hesitant audience, mainly comprised of girls. Heh, they won't dare start anything with Jeeves here! I was safe.

"How has your day been mistress Min? Everything all right?"

"Could have gone better, but not that far from what I expected. Wow, this is really good! I thought when you said spinach I'd be spitting it out."

"Thank you for your high praise mistress Min."

I eyed him suspiciously... I could have sworn that was a joke, but he was straight faced as ever. Was he British somehow?

"You're welcome. I think I'll bring my lappy tomorrow, too much free time to use it since I'm being kicked out of gym."

He crouched next to me, looking me in the eye.

"I am sorry mistress Min, I know how much such activities meant to you."

Now why was my vision blurring again? Damn it!

"It's ok, not your fault... just life, that's all."

"You are of course correct. Am I correct in assuming you do not wish to be disturbed?"

"You are correct; why?"

"Several of your fellow students are approaching this position; I shall keep them from disturbing you."

I paused with the fork in my mouth.

"Nothing permanent, understand? No need to make enemies yet."

"Understood, mistress Min."

I finished my lunch in peace as he dealt with the pack of girls swarming him, chattering animatedly. None of them were even glancing at me, which was good. Confusing, but good.

I finished with a good five minutes to spare, taking my time and enjoying the serenity. As soon as I started to move however Jeeves was there, pulling back my chair and helping me up.

"Thank you Jeeves, everything was wonderful. Am I to assume you'll be at this spot tomorrow?"

"Circumstances permitting."

"I approve, it's a good spot. Well back to the grind, you'll be here when I get out?"

"I'll be waiting at the door mistress Min. As always, should you need me, please call." He started packing up.

"Alright. So, um...what are all of you guys doing here?" I asked as I caught up to the pack of my peers.

"Oh nothing, we were just talking to your butler. So, what did he make you?"

"Spinach quiche; I'd recommend it. It was tasty."

"Come on or we'll all be late!"

My hand got grabbed again by someone I barely knew, but this time it was by Rebecca 'Becca' Hollingsworth, one of our cheerleaders. The tiny throng passed the doors as I looked back to Jeeves, who waved at me, smiling. what a traitor.

"Hey! relax. We aren't going to do anything to you."

The gang led me into the bastion of feminity named the ladies' bathroom. I managed to find a wall to put my back to. I wasn't just going to roll over again!

"Relax, relax... we aren't going to hurt you." Genine 'ne ne' Summerfield cut in while making calming gestures.

"Then why...?"

"Two reasons; one, we noticed you were avoiding this place and you were getting rather...antsy, shall we say? And the other well, has to do with Jeeves. So get settled first and then we just want to talk, OK?"

Damn was it that obvious?

"Umm, Ok."

I found the first stall and locked it, taking a breath.

"First thing Min; may I call you Min?"

"Sure, I'd prefer it." It was better than Minerva after all.

I took the paper and made a little seat ring (doesn't everyone?), unzipped and sat down. I half expected when I looked up to see them all staring over the top, but there was nothing of the sort. They weren't staring under the stall at me either, hmm. I finished up, cleaned up, and went out to wash my hands.

"So, what gives?"

"Well we'd like to know about Jeeves."

"What about him?"

"Where does he come from, how do you know him, things like that."

"Well he comes from junk. I have a mutant power; it's called devising. Basically it's a fancy word for saying I build things. Jeeves is one of the first things I built."

"Ahhh I see."

I took them in, half the group looked crestfallen, but the other half looked more intense, if anything.

"So wait, you built a handsome guy to cater to your every whim?"

"Well if you want to look at it that way... I'm not sure what I was thinking when I built him exactly, I don't always. Sometimes I enter a sort of trance when I'm about to build things; I think for him the idea was to build someone who could take care of me since my health is crap now."

I heard a few collective sighs, and Maggie jumped in.

"That's so cool! You have a real mutant power!"

"I know, not like that lame-o Ralph. love your new hair by the way, that shade is so beautiful."

Suddenly it was a dam broke to the twilight zone, and they were all whispering and gabbling like geese. I looked on in horror, but I was saved by the bell, almost literally.

"Oh shit, we've got to move girls, bell in one! come on Min!"

"Study hall this hour, right Min?" Genine asked as we hurried out.

"Yep, you too if I remember. See you there!"

I put on the speed and left her behind, weaving through the crowd to my locker and quickly grabbing the books I'd need. I made it just as the bell rang, as usual for me. Mr. Mullins didn't even bat an eye. the hour passed quickly, but by 3 minutes to go I'd had all my homework done... I'd tried to go slower, but I just couldn't. The bell rang and I flitted through the halls again, stowing my books and taking just my English text, a notebook, and my pen.

"Good to see you, Miss Campbell." Mrs. Holmes greeted me as I walked into her class.

"Your paper is on your desk... a very well constructed argument."

The paper I'd written last week, I'd forgotten about it! I turned it over as I sat down, staring at the A; such a high cost for something so simple, and I'd have been happy with it last week.

"Alright class, on to Hemmingway. The old man and the sea, you're all supposed to have it read, so let's discuss it."

I'd not gotten that message so I pointed to the book when Mrs Holmes eyes roved my way. She nodded, so I tuned everyone else out and started reading. In perhaps 20 minutes I joined the discussion, story read confident I could hold my own. (Such a sad story though.) And at last the final bell rang! Merciful freedom! I was out like a shot, so fast I almost missed Mrs. Holmes parting comment of:

"Report due on old man and the sea by Friday! 500 words, no less!"

And the assorted groans which followed. Taking one last quick stop at my locker, I grabbed my bookbag, emptied it, and stuck just the English book and my notebooks inside then ran for the door. I ignored all the miscellaneous chatter and went straight to Jeeves.

"So did you see what happened to Ricky?"

"He was escorted into an ambulance and left. Were you involved in that mistress Min?"

"I might have been, indirectly."

"You are not injured, so I must assume you are telling the truth."

"That's how I heard it. Good afternoon Min."

Holy...!

I turned to see none other than Terry Douglas standing there, a rather attractive if blockish looking woman beside him.

"Don't DO that! You scared the hell out of me!"

"Sorry, sorry. May I introduce my partner Candice white?"

She obligingly flipped me her credentials, allowing me to verify them.

"He doesn't look sorry, Mrs. White, Could you thrash him for me?"

"That's Miss White, never married. And sure kid, I'll beat him once we're off duty. So how was the first day? Want anyone disappeared?"

"No, thanks. None of that please."

"Shes joking. You had us a bit worried though, you didn't even notice us this morning, just walked right by."

"Sorry, not a morning person. So to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

"No visit kiddo, we're on duty. I just decided to break the agency character a bit and introduce my partner so you knew who she was. I did promise I'd do that, remember?"

"I do, so you're watching me now?"

"Sure are, and so is the neighborhood MCO." He pointed towards the school roof, where I could just barely make out a figure.

"that is Mr. Sands, of our recent mutual acquaintance. Wave to him."

We all waved.

"OK I'm done with all this for now, I just want to go home. This is been a strange and annoying day."

"Don't mind if we stay close do you? we are obviously heading that way."

Candice punched Terry in the arm.

"Idiot, where is your professional pride? Don't mind him Miss Campbell, he's overdue for a brainwashing refresher."

"Min please, and I don't mind."

"No, can't hear of it, you'll see more of us, or one or the other of us... it seems the director is too stingy to pay for two sets of field agents."

"Isn't that always the way of it?"

"Indeed; see you later Min."

I watched them walk off.

"So, you were aware of them the entire time, I hope?"

"I was mistress Min, they arrived within sensor range at 4:22 am and have followed you ever since, being no closer than 5 feet, and no farther than 329.7 feet."

"Well as long as you were aware, I'm fine with it."

A short silent walk later and I was finally home. Alone, as I'd beaten everyone else here.Normally I'd be practicing baseball or basketball, or playing, especially with my homework basically done, but I just didn't feel up to it. Ian was likely out having a ball.

"Are you alright, Mistress Min?"

"I guess so Jeeves. Just tired."

There came that hand again.

"Your blood pressure is low; you are likely fatigued. I think a nap is in order."

Without warning he picked me up, ignoring my protests, and carried me up to my bed. depositing me onto it he added:

"please do not move, just rest, I will be back shortly with a beverage."

Bossed around by my own robot butler! The nerve...! Well it's not like I could fight him, so rest I did.

Alright, this one might be out of order. I tried to remember, but I totally forgot what order I had them all in. This is the next side story, for the record.

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


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

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

"Ready?"

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

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

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

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

"Concerned citizens?" Lydia Sills replied.

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

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

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

"Whatever! I declare this meeting started!"

They shut up, mercifully.

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

The murmurs and shouting started again.

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

"Great, another one."

"How tragic!"

"SHUT UP!"

The 'conversation' stopped again.

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

This time, there was an awkward silence.

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

"How did you see the paperwork?"

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

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

"Calm down! I have a plan."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Pam spoke up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Worst case?"

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

"And beaten by other girls?"

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

They packed up and left.



*******************************************************************************

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

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

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

"Computer on?"

Sam nodded and maggie turned to her audience.

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

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

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

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

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

"Or a petite supermodel."

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

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

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

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

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

She went bright red at the insinuation.

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

"And how does that prove anything?"

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

"What is?" ruth persisted.

"The jeans are tight...."

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

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

She continued on in a whisper.

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

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

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

Universal affirmation met Maggie's ears.

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

Cheers met that declaration.

Cindi walked up to Maggie.

"How do we help Pam?"

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

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

Alright, time to start trying to catch this up again. Chapter 8, reformated:

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

"How long?"

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

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

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

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

"You did. Would you like something?"

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

"As soon as possible mistress Min."

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

"What are you grinning at, you goof?"

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

"Your homework is complete."

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

"How did you know?"

"You looked up, of course."

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

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

"Darn it Min, hurry up!"

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

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

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

His blanch and nod was pretty gratifying.

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

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

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

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

"Hey, Min."

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

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

Stupid physics; how dare it mock me this way!

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

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

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

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

"Great run; man you're fast."

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

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

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

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

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

But something was clearly up.

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

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

"Dude, what happened to you?"

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

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

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

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

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

Had I been like that?

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

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

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

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

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

"What are you drawing?"

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

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

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

He looked at it critically.

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

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

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

His eyes wide for some reason, he asked:

"Fuel problem?"

"Yeah, standard jet fuel just won't cut it; I can't load enough unless I build an entire jet around it, a large one. So I'll
need another power source. Possibly nuclear? I don't know...."

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

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

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

Uh-oh.

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

"Sure, Mr Welsh."

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

"How about something like this?"

Ralph leaned over again.

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

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

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

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

"Hey, Min! Wait up!"

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

"Hi Maggie, what's up?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Sorry, thoughtless of me."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Could I... could we help?"

"Um...."

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

"Please? I'd like to help."

I came to a decision. Stall.

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

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

Whew.

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

"Say Ralph, did you piss Ricky off?"

"Huh? How?"

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

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

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

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

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

"Urgh. Not again."

Oops, did not want to say that out loud.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Nerd."

"Geek."

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

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

Boooooorrrring. So very boring. So boring the light from merely boring, could not even reach where I was. So it was time to run a few more numbers of my own. This time however, I decided to focus more. I didn't like the trance that my brain seemed to need to do anything, so I decided I'd take a page from all those self-help books and psychiatrists, and try meditating my way into wakefullness while using my so called power. While I could do the equations that a week ago I hadn't even known existed, it felt slow... like a lagging internet connection or
something. At least there was no pain, and I wasn't passing out.

The lack of those two were always a plus.

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

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

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

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

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

"Hey, you ok?"

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

"Gah!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Minerva!"

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

"Copenhagen."

The flabbergasted look on her face was priceless.

"What?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Min! Hi. How you doing?"

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

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

"Sure!"

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

"Mrs. Carson?"

"Yes Min?"

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

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

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

She finished for me.

"After that the class is boring?"

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

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

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

"Yes ma'am. Got to go!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I thought about it, and mentally shrugged.

"Sure, but I have a few conditions."

"And those are?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Wel,l what more do you want to know?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Um, sure. Anything else?"

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

Sam spoke.

"Wiffleball."

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

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

"Hey."

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

"Hey. How goes things?"

"Could be worse."

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

"Wow your fingers are blurring."

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

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

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

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

After all, coach would still trust me, right?

"Heads up!"

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

"You okay?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

With a shrug I started in again. It's probably true that confronting Monty with words would be a lost cause. I doubted I'd win a fight either, so that was out. Ralph could probably win such a fight, but never fought anyone who gave him crap; which was usually why I would step in before. Hmm, what could the reason for that be? Win a few fights, and even Gordon would leave you alone. At least until he smelled weakness. Bullies
often seemed similar to sharks, at least to me. Monty was at least a little more intelligent than Gordon, and would theoretically require fewer beatings. So why would Ralph hold back? It didn't really make any sense.

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

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

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

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

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

"Got a small pillow hidden somewhere?"

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

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

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

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

"Min!"

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

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

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

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

"I'm sorry?"

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

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

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

Hmm, three sandwiches and assorted fruit, and three people; had Jeeves known somehow? If so, how? I mean he had some software designed to replicate intuition, but was that what was at work here? He noticed me looking and gave an enigmatic smile. Oh yes, he had known somehow. And he wanted me to wonder about it, the jerk. Well I wasn't going to. I was going to wonder about the mp3 player. It was smaller than most, perhaps
the size of a USB flash drive. The earbuds had a sort of gel on them. It had no manufacturer's stamp.

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

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

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

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

"A little."

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

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

"Ugh, that time already?"

Jeeves did his hand thing.

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

I did not want to continue school. Sigh.

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

He helped me gently to my feet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Coach."

He looked up from his sports illustrated.

"Yes Min?"

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

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

"I don't mind."

Maggie leaned in close to whisper.

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

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

Sam broke her silence.

"Why?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"X = 4."

"You sure?"

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

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

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

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

"He does that."

My fingers hadn't even slowed.

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

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

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

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

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

"Do your best. Things will get better."

"Thanks."

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

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