"Nick?" the nannydrone approached. "I ran a full brain scan, and it says you are emotionally frustrated Nick? Is there anything I can do? How might I make you happy today?"
"Hug a power line." Nick swatted the probe away and returned to his machine.
"Please wait while I process your request …" A clock symbol appeared over her face. "I am sorry, Nick Lyons. I cannot perform such a task."
Nick rolled his eyes. "Of course you can't."
"Oh dear, Nick. My biorhythm sensors now tell me you have been upset by an unidentified object within this very room."
"Really? Wonder who that could be?" Nick grumbled as he adjusted the settings on his magnodriver. Nannydrones really had the intelligence of a slug.
"I am formulating a solution to your happiness, Nick," the nannydrone explained. "This solution today is brought to you by Pappy's Pudding Fingers. Lick your way to happiness. Due to a decreased level of serotonin in your brain, dilated pupils, and small but noticeable constipation—"
"Gross," Nick scowled. "Why would you even go there?"
"You would be best served by having a Pappy's Pudding Finger. Chocolate."
The nannydrone buzzed to a locked fridge by the bathroom. Its multipurpose hand flipped and inserted a key. As part of an attempt to open another profit stream, the company, Lifedrone, distributed complimentary mini fridges filled stocked full of free Pappy's products with their nannydrones.
"Here is a Pappy's Pudding Finger on a stick. No charge to you." The nannydrone rose to meet him eye-level. It held the Pudding Finger between two plastic fingers. "Enjoy, Nick."
"I don't want it," Nick said, determined to finish the machine.
Ignoring him, the nannydrone unwrapped the pudding finger and smooshed it to his mouth.
"Ugh!" Nick wiped the dribbling chocolate from his face.
"I can order a month's supply whenever you'd like, Nick." The nannydrone thrust the Pudding Finger at him again.
Nick dodged it, crying, "Stop!" He began to suspect the nannydrone was suffering some kind of system error.
"Lifedrone and Pappy's have joined to offer a special deal just for you, Nick." The nannydrone smooshed the pudding finger to his lips again and again. "Yummy, yummy to the tummy, Nick."
"Dude, seriously." Nick wiped the pudding finger from his cheek.
"See, yummy, Nick," The sound of SMOOSH came with every jab to his cheek. "So yummy." SMOOSH. "Yummy, yummy." SMOOSH. SMOOSH. SMOOSH.
"I don't have time for this," Nick finally bellowed and smacked the nannydrone's arm. "I have a demonstration this afternoon. The machine isn't ready. Tim's disappeared as usual, and I'm hearing voices. Get. Out. Of. My. Face!"
"But … Nick," The nannydrone lowered the pudding finger slowly, "everyone wants a Pappy's Pudding Finger."
Nick sighed, "I really need to get off this planet."
The nannydrone floated higher, its anti-grav motors purring as it studied Nick. He knew it was computing some way to get him to taste the pudding finger sample. He could hear the motors move closer, it leaned in slowly, cautiously …
The pudding finger rammed into his left ear. SMOOOOOSH.
"I'M DONE!" Nick leapt to his feet. A boy had his limits, he decided. He went over to the nannydrone's mini-fridge and picked it up.
"What are you doing with that mini-fridge, Nick?" the nannydrone said. "It is property of Lifedrone."
He marched to the large window overlooking Hiker's Canyon and commanded, "Open window." The glass swooshed open. He peered out the window to a fifty-foot drop.
"There are nearly three thousand dollars of Lifedrone's products in the mini-fridge, Nick." The nannydrone put up two concerned plastic arms.
"Yeah, I know," Nick said. "And what's your primary protocol?"
"To observe and protect you, Nick." The nannydrone slowly moved toward the mini-fridge precariously hanging out of the window.
"Wow. That's a lie," Nick tisked." He began to tip the mini-fridge over.
"Disengaging deflect program," the nannydrone said. "You are correct, Nick. My primary protocol is to try and sell you low quality snacks at high end prices."
"So if I chuck this over the canyon, you'd have to save it?"
"Yes. I would have to save the Lifedrone produ—"
With no little amount of pleasure, Nick raised his hand and let the mini-fridge tip over. It tumbled three times in the air.
BANGG!! Came the sound of a boulder snapping the door open, flinging Pappy's products into the air.
BANGG!! BANGG!
The second boulder sent the door flying away.
The mini-fridge continued to bang and bounce against granite boulders until it came to a stop at large pine tree.
The nannydrone lit its propulsions and flew out the window with arms outstretched. For a moment, it actually crested into the air, but Nick knew that while Lifedrone had installed their machines with many of the latest flight technologies, one technology it had not bothered to install in their nannydrones was the anti-gravitation system. It could only hover at five feet. Hiker's canyon was fifty-five feet.
The nannydrone fell like a piano.
WHEEEBOOM!! It blew up on impact.
Nick watched the nannydrone's battery pack explode into a greenish ball of flame. He smiled as a pyrodrone launched from some nearby stoop, its hoses aiming toward the flames.
Nick began to feel guilty as the nannydrone's plastic skin melted into the pine needles. How many nannydrones had he taken out over the last couple of months? Twelve? How many times did a local hover-firetruck descend on their property because one of his experiments ended up in a fiery mess? Nick couldn't help but wonder if he actually enjoyed blowing stuff up.
But a reoccurring memory stopped those guilty feelings from taking hold. If it wasn't for the nannydrones, his best friend would still be alive. Jermaine didn't deserve what happened to him. Nick hated the drones. If he had to take every single one of them out, he would.
Nikolas Lyons. If you turn the key, you turn the clock. If you turn the clock, you save me.
"Not again." Nick considered something and looked back to the machine. Could the machine be speaking to him? Maybe it was picking up one of those old-timey radio signals? Which was weird since they were banned in the late 21st century.
He crouched down to the Viachron. Nick could see lights blinking deep within its belly, while cables escaped from various holes only to be dragged back in. His brother, Tim, often referred to it as the greatest abuse of technology. To Nick, it was the machine that would finally get him and his friends off this planet.
Earth.
To put distance between planet Earth with all of its chaos was all Nick had thought about since last Christmas. That terrible memory came back to him again. The nannydrone hovering over Jermaine—his hand reaching to Nick, mouthing the words "help"—Nick yelling to anyone who could hear.
Jermaine deserved better.
Nick shook his head. He couldn't stay in that memory for long. It made him feel too angry. The only thing he could focus on right now was winning the SpaceNow prize and collecting his reward of a plot of colonial land on the moon for him and his friends.
Easy peasy.