Nanobots, Murder, and Other Family Problems

Sunday, April 17

"Come on, man," Marc urges. "We're about to start the show. Did you really never watch Hillside High?"

I sigh. Marc can be painfully insistent. "I've seen commercials for it, does that count? It always looked like a lame teen drama."

"It's the best teen drama!" he declares.

I resisted him the first two Sundays I was here, but today I don't care enough to fight him on it. I let him lead me down to the common room. The smell of popcorn reminds me of the old movie theater where Mom and I used to go. A surprising number of my sibs are piled on couches and chairs that have been moved around to point to the biggest of the wall-mounted flatscreens. I think this might be all of the fourteen-and-up contingent, along with a few of the younger ones like Timothy who I think is maybe twelve. Even holier-than-thou, don't-waste-time, we've-got-a-sacred-mission Chad is over on one of the couches with Phil and Stan.

"Hey, brother," Evan greets me from one of the cushy three-seaters near the back of the cluster. "I didn't think you were a Hillsider."

True to his word, Evan hasn't put any pressure on me to talk to him about my breakdown the other day. That's good, because I still don't feel like I ever want to talk about it. Definitely not until I have some more concrete answers on what Father was doing the day Mom died.

"I'm not," I tell him flatly, grabbing the spot next to him on the couch. Marc takes the other corner.

"But you will be, once you watch it," Marc says.

The room gets quiet as the show starts. Yeah, it's a standard teen drama with bad writing and worse acting. Just a bunch of boring kids in a normal high school, dating and breaking up with dialog alternating between angsty, embarrassing, and obnoxious.

"You all really watch this every week?" I whisper to Evan.

"Shhh," he whispers back, his eyes locked on the screen. "I think Meg is about to break up with Steve."

I roll my eyes. They literally have super powers, and they think this is fascinating? I suppose it explains all the weird ideas they have about life in the outside world. I pull out my tablet and start work on my differential equations homework for Mr. Johnson. As predicted, Meg breaks up with Steve to gasps of horror and sighs of sadness from my siblings.

As the teaser for next week's episode plays, a spear of sunlight stabs into the room from the big double doors. I turn and see Father's silhouette.

"Ah, the weekly ritual," he observes. "I hope I haven't interrupted. How are the teens of Hillside doing this week?"

My siblings laugh like he just said something hilarious. They're so weird around him. The cult vibes kick in as I see how they fawn for his attention. He mingles in with my brothers and sisters as they rearrange the furniture back to its regular layout.

"Lisa, I loved your paper on the potential uses of harmonic resonance for nano-scale refinement of crystalline compounds. We should discuss that more at our next meeting. And Michael, your research on resolving gender wage disparities in agricultural communities was most interesting. Oh, Timothy," he says, putting his hand on the little guy's shoulder, "Mr. Roper tells me you've finally gotten the trick of using polymorphism and inheritance in your programming. That's excellent, keep up the good work."

He greets as many of my brothers and sisters as stick around to talk to him with some little tidbit specific to each of them. Each sib beams in turn as he praises them. I'm impressed that he can remember all of their names, much less any details about them all. But he seems to know what's going on in all of their classes. As far as they know, he's the perfect father: loving, supportive, and definitely not the type who might kill their mothers. I shake my head, then pack my tablet back into my backpack and make for my room.

"Noah," Father's voice calls just before I reach the hallway. "A word, if you please?"

I try not to let my reluctance show as I turn around to face him. "Yes, Father?"

"Could we have the room for a moment?" he asks my lingering siblings.

They all nod and disperse. Father takes a seat on one of the armchairs and gestures toward the couch next to it. I force a smile and sit down with him.

"I've been hearing good things about you, Noah. Very good things." He looks at me with an expression of pride that would have elated me a few days ago. Now, I can't do anything but wonder if his off-center smile hides a murderous heart.

"Thank you, Father. I've been doing my best."

"Your best seems to be exceptional. You have exceeded all expectations in your studies, particularly in picking up programming. For someone with no background in computer science, you seem to have preternatural instincts for it."

Is he messing with me? Does he know? I can't see any hint of deceit in his face.

"Yeah, I guess it comes to me pretty easily. It helps that I have good teachers."

"Indeed." He nods with a broad smile. "I assigned you the two best I know. I had to pull Charles out of retirement at an exorbitant expense, but I think you'll agree he's worth it."

"I appreciate it. Mr. Johnson is amazing. Mrs. Jones is great too."

He looks so innocent, so sincere. So fatherly. There's no way he could look at me and keep his face like that if he had killed Mom a month ago, could he?

"I'm glad they're working out for you," he says. His smile fades and his face gets a serious look. "Now, on to the more pressing business at hand. I think you know why I wanted to speak with you."

I fidget in my seat despite my efforts to stay still.

"We have been watching you closely," he continues, not waiting for a response. "Yesterday, Chad mentioned the extra hours he's spotted you spending in the lab." Here it comes. Chad ratted me out. He knows. "Before her unfortunate passing, your mother told me on many occasions what an exceptional young man you are. I have put that assessment to the test these last two weeks. I find now that she was not entirely honest with me."

I hold my breath. He knows about me breaking into his email. Or maybe he found out about the hacking that Mom and I used to do. Either way, he knows I'm a criminal. He knows I've been lying since I got here.

I expect his eyes to turn angry as he lays out what he knows. How do they handle punishment for something that serious here at the Butler Institute? Or will he even keep me here? What's the worst he could do to me in the two weeks until I turn eighteen? Kill me?

Instead, his stern look cracks. His crooked smile breaks out across his face. "Noah, you are a young man of singular talents. Your mother did not even begin to do justice to your work ethic or your capacity for learning. All the siblings in your cohort speak well of your abilities. Even Jeff was impressed with you, and nothing impresses him."

I exhale, relieved. "Really?" I manage to sputter out.

He puts his hand on my knee. "Well, as you might expect, Chad had a few minor complaints, but they revealed more to me about your positive qualities than anything else. Noah, I am proud to call you my son, and I would be honored to have you not just as part of my family, but as a member of my team as well. I would like to invite you to join me in saving the world. We have great things planned. Great things. If you are willing, you can be an integral part of it. I suspect you came here planning to leave when you turn eighteen, but if you are interested, you are welcome to stay and begin training with a cloud."

He pauses for a moment. Could he have killed her? It seems so impossible now, looking at him.

"What do you say, son? Are you still up for preserving life, ending suffering, and elevating humanity with me?"

Grammy and Gramps will be crushed, but the decision is a no-brainer. If he didn't kill her, I definitely want in. If he did do it, this is my best way to be able to do anything about it.

"The honor would be all mine, Father," I tell him. "Count me in."

"Good. Good!" he says, getting to his feet. "We'll do some scans and blood work tomorrow so I can start on the preparations. It will take me some time to customize a model for your neural signature, and you'll have exercises of your own to work on, but we'll get everything moving as soon as possible. In the meantime, keep up the good work."