A personal history of Mutation, or how I spent my teen years. Chapter 33.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jeanette had them backed up somewhere, anyway.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I like the name Jill."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I didn't see it happening, but whatever.

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

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

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

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

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

"Thank you, mistress Min."

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

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

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

"Bring it, shorty."

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

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

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

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

You need to block low more."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What was this? What was even going on?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"So...."

Sam cut him off firmly. "No."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sam beat me to the punch: "Terrible."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Coolant," Dad answered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I had a feeling everyone here just got it though.

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Comments

"What's going on?"

something sure is going on!

DogSig.png

Yep…….

D. Eden's picture

Something’s fishy in Denmark all right! Too many people acting weird - the boys, the girls, and Jeanette and Crash. Jeannette is way too worried about Jill, and apparently Crash feels that the Creator should be the one to build the bodies.

There’s a lot of weirdness going on here.

D. Eden

Dum Vivimus, Vivamus

Wendy Jean:

My fault entirely for taking forever to write. I'm glad you enjoy the characters regardless.

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