“SUSAN,” I call out. “Unlock the door to my workroom, please.”

There’s a soft click as the door to my workroom unlocks. The sheet metal door slides open, allowing Lavish and I to walk through.

SUSAN is the Bunker’s AI. She typically maintains the Bunker’s defenses and controls any major technological components like generators and the oxygen filters. The only set of doors she doesn’t have access to are the main Bunker gates.

Back when I was younger, I’d spend hours just asking SUSAN questions about the world outside the bunker. She has an archived database of an obsolete library called the Internet, where almost any information can be dug out if one only has the patience to look hard enough. I still call upon SUSAN to search the Internet, but mostly, I use her to do daily tasks that I can’t be bothered with—running systems checks and making sure certain doors are locked as soon as they shut.

“Alright, so what mad-scientist invention did you make this time?” Lavish asks, rubbing his hands together eagerly. “An engine that converts carbon dioxide into gasoline? A rocket launcher that shoots out chickens? Come on, I’ve got to know!”

I laugh. “You’ll see. Or maybe you won’t.”

“What does that mean?”

“Give me a second to finish soldering on this motherboard, and then we can do a live demonstration.”

I grab my soldering gun and aim it at the wires I need to connect. One or two quick zaps, and the device is finished. It’s small and discreet—and an X harness strap fits it snugly against my chest.

“Now,” I say, “I haven’t had the chance to test this yet, so either this device will work perfectly, or it’ll malfunction and explode me into ten-thousand pieces.”

“Naturally.” Lavish swallows hard and takes a few steps back.

“Well. Here goes nothing.”

I press the button on the front of the device, and even though I don’t feel very different, Lavish gasps. When I look down, I can no longer see my body.

“No way, dude!” Lavish pulls his jaw off the floor and smiles broadly. “You made an invisibility cloak? That’s so much cooler than a rocket launcher that fires out chickens!”

“It’s got some limitations,” I admit. I move my arm, and the illusion of invisibility breaks slightly as the device tries to reconfigure the background behind me. “If you move, it takes about two seconds for you to be invisible again.”

“So, you can only be invisible if you’re standing still?”

“More or less. It’s a work in progress.” I turn off the device. “What do you think?”

“Do you have a second one?” he asks.

I grin. “Of course.”

“You’re a genius, Rekill. I’m serious, I don’t know how you think up this kind of crap.”

Despite Lavish’s praises, I haven’t ever really seen myself as a genius. I guess it’s easy for him to assume I am one, since he’s only ever in my workshop when I have a finished prototype. But he doesn’t see all the frustrated tears and the long nights spend slaving over even the smallest wiring components. He doesn’t see the huge mass of engineering files that I force SUSAN to load up for me. And of course, he doesn’t see the hundreds of failed attempts that come as the inevitable collateral damage of invention.

Honestly, I’m not a genius. I’m just dedicated.

Of course, I don’t expect Lavish to know or even care about the difference between those two adjectives. He’s always been proud of my inventions and my tech, and that’s more than enough for me.

“I’m glad you like it. Believe it or not, I’ve been working on this one piece of tech since we started talking about our plans two years ago,” I say.

“It’s amazing. Really,” Lavish promises me. He places a hand on my shoulder. “Hey, with your inventions and my weapons, we’re going to get back what’s ours. You know that, right?”

I nod solemnly. “Yeah. I know.”

Lavish claps me on the back. “We should get packing. Meet me in the Command Center in twenty?” he asks.

“Sounds good.”

With that, Lavish leaves me alone in my workroom as we each go about getting our own belongings. From my workroom, I pack a gasmask, both of my cloaking devices, my signal jammer, a tablet, and a pair of infrared goggles.

Then, it’s off to my room to grab anything else necessary. Neither Lavish or I expect to be gone from the bunker for longer than a day, but I pack a change of clothes regardless. Along with that, I pack a few survival items: a water canteen, a few bags of jerky, and a rudimentary first-aid kit. It’s excessive, but I’d rather carry an extra pound of stuff that I don’t need rather than die because I was unprepared.

I pack everything into my patented GRAVITY-X bookbag. The purpose of the GRAVITY-X is to reduce the amount of weight I’m carrying. It’s so effective, that all of the tech and supplies combined on my back hardly feels like five pounds.

I’m about to leave, but something makes me pause. It’s a framed picture hanging up in my room of my Mom, my Dad, and me. We’re all in the Arboretum, standing in the shade of a fat oak. I’m probably only eight or nine in the picture, and I’m wearing a vintage Mickey Mouse T-Shirt that once belonged to my father when he was a boy. There’s an easygoing smile on my face—it’s the smile of a kid who has no fears in the world, because he knows that no matter what problems arise, Mommy and Daddy will always be there to save him.

Well, I guess now it’s my turn to save them.

Lavish’s voice booms through the speakers: “COME ON REKILL, WE DON’T HAVE ALL DAY!”

“Coming, I’m coming,” I grumble under my breath. “Can you be more impatient?”

I walk through the halls until I get to Lavish’s Bunker, where the Command Center is located. I pause at the doors for only a second to mentally prepare myself, and then I walk in.

“Alright,” I say. “I’m here. I assume you have a plan?”

Lavish catches my eye and grins wickedly. “I always do.”