On November 17, 9999 young Simon Baxter rode home on the hover bus. In his seat television he watched bioball a sport played by mutated alien dogs, a form of an ancient sport known as football. His robotic secretary known as a PSDP which stood for pocket sized digital processor hopped out of his pocket. on her face screen his mother popped up. She seemed worried. “Simon do you still have your lucky coin?” she asked seeming as if she was being forced to ask her 14 year old son this question. “Yeah mom why what’s your glitch?” The teenager responded in his teenage lingo. “Well, your father received a strange message from his dear friend doctor Zentoc. He seems very well, up and about, because of this hologram. Something made him edgy and he wants you home right away.” “Ok Mom be home in a nano.” With that said the PSPDP climbed back in his pocket folded up and shut down. His parents got him worried all about some stupid coin.
When Simon arrived home he went straight to his room where he found Model 751, the robotic maid of his house cleaning. “Hello Master Baxter.” The maid said in its melodramatic voice. “Hello Model 751, nice to see you.” Simon said while pulling out his digital class recordings to help him with his homework. “I heard your father enrolled you in the Space Force with doctor Zentoc and his colleagues.” The robot said. “Mmm Hmmm.” Simon mumbled knowing the robot didn’t care if he paid attention to it. The teacher robot model A-16, now that would be another story. “How’s your shoulder doing I heard you were hurt in the photon training courses.” Simon grumbled at the robot and rubbed his newly inserted robotic shoulder. “I’m fine you can leave now model 751.” Simon said to the robot with serious tones of anger in his voice. “Yes master Baxter.” As the robot walked out the door it added in one more statement. “I’m truly sorry Master Baxter.”
Finally his mother had realized that Simon was home and had snucken into his room with out her figuring out. Simon didn’t just develop these sneaky genes. His mother could be as quiet as a warm spring breeze or even as quiet as the statue she was standing next to. She was able to get into Simons room without being detected by his sensors or being heard by her fourteen year old child. His almost white, blonde hair and his evenly layered tan, made the child seem like someone who spent all there time on the indoor beaches. Yet if you say Simons facial appearances that idea would be really farfetched. His curly hair almost hid his eyes, but if you did ever take a glimpse of them you would notice that they were ice white. An upgraded lens used for defensive government operatives. He was built like a stick besides his arms where his muscles could be seen in even the baggiest sweatshirts. He had strong legs and a nice abdominal section. Although these features of Simon Baxter as an adult nothing made him seem older than his mechanical shoulder which was covered with a skin like substance but a shoulder part is not well covered even with the fake skin you could tell it was robotic. Most the time Simon wouldn’t wear the skin and let his alloy blue parts shine under the sun and the moon on mercury, his home planet. Yet no matter how old young Simon Baxter was he still acted like a fourteen year old kid should, cunning into his music, especially his air guitar, and hover boarding. His mother thought that Simon had to split personalities. His adult side and his child side. Mrs. Baxter always took it upon herself to figure out “which one was the better half?”
“Simon I thought I told you to go straight to your father when you got home?” His mother said to him. “Mom, I just started my homework why do I have to have some conversation with Dad that’s going to take up all my time?” Simon asked sarcastically as he headed out the door. His mother loved the way he acted unfortunately this was all about to change and she knew it. His father practiced breaking the news with her. Her young boy would have to make a decision. A decision no fourteen year old boy should be forced to choose. Would he give up his way of life or would he say good bye to everything he knew to save the human race. Zillions of lives were on his hands. Either way if he decided one or another all of them would die, including her. Leaving Simon and the five others as the last standing, alone with nothing else they could look forward to they were the one who would continue the human race. All this was resting on her fourteen year old son, and she couldn’t help. Mrs. Baxter felt like the worst mother in the world yet there was nothing she could do. All she could do was to follow him down and wait for his decision.
In the living room Mr. Zentoc and his father were waiting for him in the family room on the two out of the four hover chairs. Simon didn’t like the looks of this. Both his father and his principle had a grim and serious look on their faces. His principle looked at him with his ice white eye, the cybernetic one was focusing in on his facial expression. “Simon, you have been watched by the government since you were born. Everything you did, every step you took has been written down. You have been trained to do this since you could walk and talk. Either it was sports or just games or levels of intelligent learning. Now the decision has become yours. Will you save the human race?”
Gender:
Points: 890
Reviews: 38