Chris

I was head down in the mess that day.

Working through piles and piles of wires, boards, capacitors, transistors, resistors, solder, and what not. I was getting closer to the end though, in that little dusty garage. What was I working on? It was a central controller for little quadcopter drones, you know the ones kids play with? I mean you could have used it for bigger ones I guess, but you’d have to change a few things within the signal. Not hard though.

There were screens above my work bench hooked up to the computer that I had built when I was ten, and had only kept upgrading. That was another thing that was never truly ‘finished.’ From the outside, it looked well out of date, but under the plastic shell she was a powerful machine. The good news was my code was running and I only had to make a few changes to the transmitter so that it would be able to work independent signals, separately to each drone, without drawing so much power that the board melted. To be fair, this was my first attempt.

“That seems like a little more than studying for finals, and you definitely don’t need extra credit.” I had been searching for my favorite pair of wire strippers when I heard her voice, nearly jumped off my stool. “Angie, you know I hate it when you do that,” I usually kept the garage door open when I was working for this exact possibility.

“I just saw that your parents were gone and I couldn’t help myself,” she answered with a wry smirk. Angie lived just down the dead-end street and we’d known each other since we could walk. Her golden hair was glowing in the light of the soon to be setting sun. I must have been staring. “So, Mr. Hawking,” she always threw jabs at me like that when she thought I needed to get out, “what are you building on a Friday night?”

I shook my head to clear it, looking back at the pile of wires, and screens full of code, “It’s…it’s nothing. At least not yet,” I let out with a sigh. When I turned back, she was looking at her mobile, typing out a reply, “I don’t think I could doubt that more, but my ride’s almost here.”

“You sure you don’t want to come out? It’s going to be a great night,” she asked genuinely. For a second, for once, I thought I might, but in another second that notion was dashed by the appearance of a late model electric convertibles rolling up to the bottom of my driveway. I hated this one.

“No thanks. I should finish this, it’s an admissions project, deadline and all that,” I replied almost out of reflex. An utter fabrication, but I’d say anything to keep me out of that car with Nathaniel and her together. Rich son of a wealthy businessman from across town he was, remarkable in any fashion or form he was not. Handsome, with a nice car he didn’t have to buy himself. I loathed and envied him from top to bottom.

“Suit yourself. I’ll probably stop by tomorrow, depending on how tonight goes,” she laughed, smiling at me, which was devastating, and bounded down the drive, hopping gracefully into the car. In a few moments they were gone and I was alone for the weekend, like I always was. I was about to turn back to my work, when a post courier walked up, it was a little late for delivery, but there are exceptions to every rule. “That was a nice-lookin’ ride! Haven’t seen one of those yet around here!” He was holding out a stack of mail for me to sign for, “Not from around here,” I answered dismissively.

“Shame,” he took back the tablet and stylus, before departing. Thinking on that, I tossed the mail on the floor next to my bench and went back to work. Hours passed and when I came up for air it was dark. My hands were tired and I was ready for a test run. Standing up stiffly I queued up the executable and grabbed the remote. Standing in the middle of the garage I activated the system. Each of the four quadcopters departed from their ceiling mounted charging stations and hovered at waist height. Left, right, front, and back of me. Blue, red, green, and yellow lights differentiating them.

Now for the test. Carefully, I put them in a complex orbit with changing altitudes around me. Slowly, I walked back to the bench and grabbed some over-ear hearing protection, the kind you use for construction. The drones followed me, modifying their patterns and timing so as to not hit me, the table, or each other. Smiling, I picked up my mobile and walked back to the center of the room.

With a tap on the mobile I closed the garage door. Shutting out the World, the thick layers of soundproofing on the back side of the metal door brought a wave of relief to me. Using the two remotes in complete darkness, I put my pals through their paces, having them depart their complex pattern to accomplish some task using their small onboard flashlights, and mini-mandibles that hung off their central battery packs. I played one of my favorite electronic records through the two-meter speakers I had in the back of the space. The vibrations shook my entire body, but to anyone strolling by the house nothing would be out of place.

I tasked Blue to grab the mail and he did without a problem, dropping it off, piece by piece in my hands without hesitation. It was in the light of his miniature flashlight that I saw the letter from the Ministry of Education for the first time. I stared at it as he held it in front of me, music blaring, drones flying, vibrations through my whole body, alone in a dark garage.

My name is Christopher Andrews, and that was when I earned my car.