MOAB � Mother Of All Boxsets

by George Saoulidis

  People yelled from outside, angry, deep voices. “Go back home to your country! The flag goes to pure Greeks!”

  “Miss, why are they angry at me?” Sklippie asked his carer.

  She sniffed. “It’s… Uh… Well Sklippie, you’re old enough for me to explain properly. No lies. Some people, not many, mind you, didn’t like that you were the flag-bearer at the parade.” She was referring to the parade of two days ago where the Greeks celebrated the big “No” against the Germans that started the World War for them.

  “But the best student carries the flag, miss.”

  “Yes, Sklippie. Yes he does.” She held him in her arms and cried.

  Bricks and beer bottles came crashing around her. Police sirens sounded, and the throwing stopped. But the damage had been done.

  15 Sklippie

  “I can fly it,” Ty said, carrying the box around.

  “Yeah, you believe so?” Sklippie asked, knocking on a door.

  “Sure I can man, don’t you remember those spins I did with that drone Ace fixed last year?” He rattled the box from excitement.

  “Okay, we’ll test it. I’m not good at piloting them, anyway.”

  The door opened. “Hey, what’s up, Sklippie?” The man wore a prosthetic leg, one of the dumb ones.

  “Hey Mr. George. We came for any electronics you might have for recycling.”

  “Right, I have some. Let me get them for you.” The man went back inside.

  “You can count on me, man,” Ty kept on with the earlier conversation. “I’ll train hard.”

  Sklippie chuckled. “I know you will, Ty. Don’t worry about me. It’s Ace you gotta convince to let you pilot the drone, not me.”

  Mr. George came carrying a knockoff tablet and something else. Sklippie lifted it high, checking it out. “Oh, that’s a smartthingie for closing doors. Was working just fine but the company shut down and now it’s just a dead brick.”

  “I’m sure Ace will find some use for it.”

  “I’m sure she will! Hey, thanks for that olive-oil tip you gave me for my prosthetic. It really helps with the skin contact. You’re better than a doctor, if I could afford one.”

  Sklippie smiled. “Thanks Mr. George. But it’s just basic medicine, you know.”

  The man shrugged. “It helped me, so nothing basic about that.”

  The boys walked away. Ty turned around to the man still at the door. “Hey, Mr. George. Tell him he should be a doctor!” he shouted.

  “You should become a doctor, Sklippie!” the man happily shouted back.

  “We got a good haul today. I’m the one who’s gonna give them to Ace so I can butter her up, ‘kay?” Ty said.

  They got back to Ace’s shop. It used to be a shoemaker’s workshop, with the store up front. It shut down years ago but some of the simpler gear and worktables were solid, so Ace made use of them. The owner rent it out to Ace for nothing after the gang had installed a powerwall into his house for free.

  “Look what I got for you,” the white teen said smiling wide.

  The Asian girl was tinkering with her 3D metal printer. She glanced at the box, shaking some electronics around with a finger. “Hm. It’ll do.” Then she turned back to her work.

  Ty put the box where he was supposed to and beamed at Sklippie, mouthing back her words wide as if he’d just gotten the best response ever.

  Sklippie shook his head and joined his friend in tearing up the electronics.

  “Two piles, those that can’t be salvaged and those that might be fixable. Servos and broken LED screens can be fixed, boys.”

  “Yes, we know,” they both complained.

  “If you did, I wouldn’t have to remind you every time,” Ace said and started up the printer. She sent the schematic from her laptop, a 3D model of a part she wanted to print. She inspected their work. “Ty, don’t break parts! Open them up gently. Jeez man.”

  Sklippie gave him the look that said, ‘to be fair you were breaking them.’

  “Hey, Ace?”

  “Put those batteries at the cycler to be drained out. Yeah, what?” Ace asked.

  “Can I fly the drone? You remember how good I was with the last one.”

  “Before you crashed it into a train.”

  “Come on, that train came out of nowhere!”

  “It is literally moving on tracks.”

  “I didn’t hear it!”

  “Know what? Fine. I suck at non-programmable flight, Sklippie is not good either, so yeah, it’s up to you.”

  “Really?” Ty said, incredulous.

  The boys high-fived.

  “How are we on the project cash?” Sklippie asked.

  “Well, I’m nearly done. But I need to sell one more powerwall,” Ace said, breathing out. She inspected the colourful batteries the boys were ripping out with a voltmeter.

  They went quiet for a minute.

  “Mr. George!” Ty said, breaking the silence.

  “Nah, he can’t afford one.”

  “No, but he can sell one for you. Especially if you tell him how much it will help you.” Ty waited for a ‘yes,’ nodding in his face.

  “I guess…” Sklippie shook his head.

  The powerwall proved to be an easy sell. A DIY battery wall made out of recycled electronics that saved power from solar panels and provided it when it was needed. Also, it was useful in a technique called arbitrage, when it stored power from the grid when its cost was cheapest and then using it when the rate was normal. Over time, that saved a significant amount of electricity bills, and the poor people of the neighbourhood really needed it. The powerwalls weren’t something new, but they were quite expensive. So Ace learnt how to make them cheaply, and more importantly, safely, from the maker communities online. Then she sold them cheaply at families who needed them. Half of them just paid in food or other supplies.

  It was that way that the gang funded Sklippie’s project, and all of Ace’s contraptions and inventions.

  Mr. George’s enthusiasm at the condo assembly made a sale right then and there, and brought three more orders for the next powerwalls.

  The boys were excited, Ace just hurried away mumbling and worrying about her builds, getting right to it.

  It was a good day.

  0 Sklippie

  The woman screamed as she burned alive. Apollo ran to her and carried her out of the flames. His experience told him everything he needed to hear, but he ran the medical diagnosis anyway. Third-degree burns over 90% of her body. Chances of surviving were practically nil.

  He carried her softly in his arms, minding her baby bump.

  He cried a little, and not because of the smoke.

  He set her down on the medical stretcher. He didn’t know her personally, but she was one of his employees so that made her his responsibility. A responsibility that he had betrayed this day, by allowing the accident to happen. She was a week from maternity leave. A Greek-Nigerian, living in Athens all her life. You couldn’t tell the colour of her skin in this condition, anyway. All humans overcooked the same way.

  The charred thing moved. She grabbed his arm, hissing through charcoal lips. “Save… my ba-”

  He snapped her neck, ending her torment.

  Then he switched his tools to incision lasers and cut her belly in a perfect Caesarean, guided by lines in his Augmented Reality vision.

  He plunged his hands inside, pulled the boy out of the guts of his burned mother, and held it high.

  He turned it upside down and slapped it on the bum.

  It cried out, taking its first breath.

  A healthy, black boy.

  Apollo sliced the umbilical and gave the baby to the nurse next to him. “A new Citizen. Send him to the adoption facility, my company will cover the costs and legalwork.”

  “Wh- What do you wish to be his name, Sir?” the nurse asked, as she covered the newborn with a white blanket.

  Apollo pondered it for a while. “Asklepios. That should he his name.” He turned back to look at th
e pit of flesh where he just operated on. “It is quite fitting.”

  15 Sklippie

  “The corps own everything, provide everything, run everything. It is all presented as great and consumer-friendly, but in reality you either have enough money to buy all these everyday things, or you’re a poor Citizen just scraping by.”

  Sklippie glanced at Ty behind the camera and got a thumbs up.

  “All parts of life are dominated in the same corporate way, and honestly, I don’t know what we can do about them. But healthcare is one that I do. Emergency medical care, which is only given to those who can afford it, can be yours too.”

  Sklippie pointed at the camera.

  “We are building a defibrillator drone that will fly up to your rescue when you need it the most. It’s ideal for urban environments where ambulances can get stuck in traffic. Just like Apollo’s Tripods, which are reserved for the rich and the powerful, you can have a drone that will come to your aid. Cheaply, I might add. By supporting us at this prototype phase you will get medicare from us in case of emergency. It’s open to everyone of course but the ones who come in late will be charged for the same thing, after they recover of course. But it’s all affordable.”

  Ty turned off the camera and grunted. “Meh.”

  “What?”

  “The delivery on the last bit was meh.”

  “You do it, then!” Sklippie threw his arms in the air and walked away.

  “Nah, it’s okay. I’ll get it done tonight so we can gauge the interest.” Ty plugged the camera into his laptop. He had an old one, held together by duct tape, repaired by Ace for his birthday.

  Who said she didn’t love the dumb guy?

  Sklipie went back to his defibrillator project. He liked medicine, and machinery that made people healthy. He let the technical stuff to Ace which she excelled at, but he had picked up on a few things over the years. Ace mulled over things loudly as she worked so you learnt stuff when hanging out with her.

  The Shoe was their playground. They called it that even though there wasn’t a shoe in sight anymore. Ty didn’t actually need to be there, he had a normal family and all, but he liked their company and he always followed them everywhere.

  So, the gang worked on their projects. Ace divided her time between covering the powerwall orders and building the drone, while he and Ty did their rounds for new parts and worked on the marketing side of things.

  “Hey, Ace. You need to be on this video, it will do better with you in it. You know, being a girl and all,” Ty said, rubbing his neck and carrying the camera.

  “Nope. Nope. Nope.” She said it and it was final.

  Sklippie mouthed words behind her back.

  “What?” Ty asked, not getting it.

  Sklippie cupped the air in front of his pects, jiggling them around.

  Ty squinted. Then he got it. “Sexy Cyborg would do it. You know, Naomi Wu? Your heroine? The one you wanna be like?”

  Ace put down her wrench and sighed. “Right. She would. Okay, let’s do this.” She cleared her throat and sat up straight.

  “Ugh, maybe put on some makeup or something?” Ty suggested.

  Ace picked up the wrench again.

  “Okay! Forget the makeup, let’s do this. Action!”

  15 Skippie

  Ace set up her gear in the park. She took out the drone and the laptop from her pink hardcase, connected them, the lights of the drone shone in her face, and she plugged in the antennae.

  Ty waited with the Live View headgear on, clutching the remote. He looked silly, but cool in a geeky kind of way. Sklippie noticed Ty checking her out as she typed and fired up her programs.

  Ty whispered in his ear. “Is it just me or is she so hot with the teddy-bear backpack and while she tinkers with machines?”

  Sklippie pursed his lips. “I have to agree she’s cute in her own kind of way. But I could never see her like that, she’s like my sister, man.”

  “I have your blessing, then,” Ty patted Sklippie’s shoulder.

  “What you have are my wishes for good luck,” Sklippie snorted.

  “Get ready, shithead,” Ace said and threw the drone up in the air.

  Ty piloted it like a boss.

  Sklippie took over. “Okay, now, the simulation scenario will be me down that bench-”

  “We got a situation!” Ace bellowed out.

  “Yes, jeez, tone it down a little-”

  “No, we actually have a live fucking situation right now.” She tapped furiously on her laptop.

  “This isn’t funny, Ace…” Ty said, still piloting.

  “Do you see me laughing?” Ace said with menace. “Okay, coordinates are on your monitor, get it there right now.”

  “But-But we don’t know if it’s operational yet.” Sklippie looked over Ace’s shoulder. He saw the bleep in her system, it was indeed one of their early supporters, and he had triggered the alarm app they had given him.

  “It will have to be,” Ace said, gritting her teeth.

  “Guys, I found him. I’m right on top of him.” Ty said, looking down with his headgear.

  Sklippie took over for real this time. “Shine the light on him.” Ace did so. “Good. The camera picks up the pulsing of his blood. Wait for analysis.” They saw on the laptop a red wave pulse over the man’s neck and face, arrhythmically. It was a distorted image for human eyes, the computer could pick out the subtle differences just fine.

  “Uh, he’s writhing over here. Wait, I know this fucker,” Ty said

  “We can’t defibrillate him if he doesn’t need it! Okay, it says it’s Sudden Cardiac Arrest. Hit him, now.”

  “Really?” Ty said, incredulous. “Wait, no. That’s one of the parents who didn’t want you to carry the flag back in elementary. Maybe we should let him-”

  “Ty, it doesn’t matter! Save him, now,” Sklippie demanded.

  “Here it goes…”

  The drone deployed the paddles and turned on it’s megaphone. Sklippie spoke, “Mister Papadopoulos, we are trying to help you. Please remain absolutely still.”

  The man complied.

  The drone lowered itself and poked the man with two copper rods. Then he defibrillated his heart, which was a fancy way of saying they shocked him back to life.

  Then the feed cut off.

  “What the-” Ty took of his helmet. The gang stared at each other for a full five seconds, and then dashed towards their patient.

  “I can’t allow this to happen, you know,” the man said, projecting himself into Apollo’s office without an invitation.

  “What do you care? Healthcare is my domain,” Apollo said, watching the trio of teenagers on his monitors. What a funny little gang they were. The Chinese-Greek girl, the maker. The energetic Greek boy, the pilot. And the Greek-Nigerian boy, the healer. Fifteen years old and already disrupting a market of billions. Apollo felt something weird in his throat. Was he feeling proud?

  “They’re cutting into electrics, which is my domain,” the man said, slicing the air with his hand.

  “Yes, they obviously seek to make billions with their charitable services,” Apollo mocked.

  “Are you kidding me? That damned girl’s design improvements on the powerwalls have been replicated across the world by DIY people. She’s a fucking genius.”

  “Then why don’t you simply buy her loyalty?” He breathed into his oxygen mask. He wasn’t very healthy these days.

  “They’re too low-class Citizens to switch now. Too anti-corporate.”

  “Aren’t you the one who keeps saying that everybody has a price?”

  “Of course they do. But I want those three stopped.” The hologram vanished with the sound of thunder.

  “Oh, he’s alive. Thank the gods, he’s alive,” Ty wailed and fell on his knees.

  “Are you alright, mister?” Sklippie asked him, checking his pulse and pupillary response with his phone’s flashlight. The drone was on the ground next to him, fried. Ace was already inspecting it, trying to pull
data with a cable.

  “You saved me.” Papadopoulos’ words were plain, shocked.

  “It appears that we did. I’m calling an ambulance for you, you need to be checked by professionals.”

  “Are you kidding me? My chest was getting ripped wide open, and then… Then you saved me. I’m sorry. So sorry, for all the things I said.” The man pleaded with a gesture of his chubby hands.

  “Tell your friends!” Ty blurted out.

  The gang stared at him.

  “What? It’s a satisfied customer. I’ll take the win, thank you.”

  “The drone is fried,” Ace announced to the Shoe.

  “I could tell by the burnt junk on the table,” Ty said.

  “So, we’re back to square one.” Sklippie sagged in his chair.

  “No, man, it’s not that bad. We’ve got people waiting for it now. It was just a prototype, you know? We just need about ten powerwall sales and we’re back on track.”

  “Ten? That’s optimistic. You haven’t noticed that half our clients pay us in tomatoes and shit!” Sklippie said, kicking a tray of squishy tomatoes that went rolling everywhere.

  Ty braced for Ace’s reaction, but she just stayed silent, fiddling with some wires.

  “It’s over, let’s admit it.” Sklippie stormed out of the Shoe.

  “Man, wait up.” Ty turned to Ace for support but she just shrugged.

  A week went by, and it was the longest time the gang stayed apart since they first met. Sklippie diagnosed himself with depression. He just went to school and then back at the foster home to play videogames or study. He barely spoke to the others, he just grunted in acknowledgement and shrugged.

  During a boring physics class where Ace knew everything beforehand, she decided she’d had it with everything. As soon as the bell rang she went up to Ty.

  “Okay, you and me, we’re doing it. Tonight at the Shoe, bring your camera.” Ace punched his shoulder lightly and walked away.