Back in the lab, my other newfound siblings are clattering away at their keyboards, but that dies down as I clear the doorway. Marc gets up out of his chair and runs my way, nearly crashing into me as he stops himself too slowly.

“Noah, hey Noah!” he exclaims, getting his balance back. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Not until I make sure he can log in,” Chad says, putting a hand on Marc’s chest and pushing him back. From the tension in his arm I can tell he wants to shove him over.

I give Marc a helpless shrug and let Chad walk me to one of the workstations. The computer boots up and splashes the standard disclaimer that all computers have: No artificial intelligence was used in the design or production of this information system. I make sure my new credentials work, then Chad very slowly explains to me how to access the programming tools I’ll need to complete the lab assignments.

As Chad walks away, a notification pops up telling me that I have my first task ready to start. I click it and get an email with my first bit of work, due tomorrow. They don’t waste any time here. It looks like something from a really basic intro to computer science class, so I guess they’re serious about tailoring my schoolwork to my level. I can knock it out in a couple of minutes, but I’m more interested in the siblings that are looking my way again now that Chad is sulking at one of the workstations across the room.

Marc rolls his chair back my way. “So, Noah. I’ve always wondered, in real school there are lots of kids and just one teacher, right? Like in the shows?”

I nod slowly. Is their only exposure to the outside world through television?

“So, if someone doesn’t understand something, how does the teacher know to go back and explain it again?”

“Usually they just keep going,” I tell him. “But if you ask, they’ll sometimes help you out. Depends on the teacher, I guess.”

I turn away and somehow Louise is already there, perched on the table on the other side of my keyboard. “So,” she asks, “did Father visit you very often? He never talked about you to any of us, at least not until last week when he told us you were coming.”

I shake my head. “I’ve still never met the man. Where is he, anyway?”

Andrea, who came up behind Marc while I was looking at Louise, does a dance with her fingers and a little globe appears in the air in front of her. Oceans and continents form in blue and green, then Canada starts glowing red and pulsing.

“Yeah,” Evan says, rolling his chair over and glancing at the image floating in the air as if it was something he saw every day. “There was some medical emergency he had to help with in Ottawa. Should be back tomorrow, I think, or maybe the day after.”

“It was their Prime Minister.” Jeff’s voice comes from off in the corner. He’s still looking at his screen. “The official story is that acute symptoms suddenly manifested from an inoperable brain tumor he has had for some time, though his opponents have claimed that the diagnosis was a ploy for political gain.” I just nod. I guess my father is too busy saving the world today, so I’ll meet him tomorrow then, maybe.

The electronic ding-dong sounds again, and my sibs log out of their computers. I follow their lead, and go with Evan, Marc, and the girls back to the cafeteria for lunch. Sitting at a round table with them, I finally get my brain together enough to ask some questions.

“So, you all got some kind of implant?” I ask. “And you can do the kind of stuff that Tom Butler is famous for? Like cure cancer and build stuff out of nothing and all that?”

“We can’t tell you much, but I think I can answer that,” Louise says. “Yes, and sort of. Father calls what we have the training wheels version. I don’t think any of us will be performing surgery any time soon.”

“And building stuff takes forever,” Evan chimes in.

Andrea just smiles and nods. Does she ever talk? I want to ask, but it feels rude. 

“And it’s not out of nothing, it’s out of whatever is handy,” Marc adds.

I catch Jeff out of the corner of my eye as he sits down by himself at a table in the corner. His motions as he sits are somehow wrong. Unnaturally rigid. He’s definitely an odd one, even for this crowd. I turn back to my more sociable sibs and finish eating while they pepper me with more questions about life on the outside. I never thought my standard upbringing in the suburbs of Denver would be so fascinating, but apparently it is to them.

After lunch, they take me to the rec room in the basement of the Learning Center. It’s a huge space dotted with concrete pillars. One side is filled with things Grammy would have thought were super fun for kids. Ping-pong and foosball tables mixed in with pods of couches and small tables surrounded by chairs. Shelves along one side have arts and crafts supplies along with every board and card game I’ve ever heard of and a whole lot I haven’t. The other side of the place is a gym with treadmills, stationary bikes, and free weights.

Chad is already there when we arrive, pumping dumbbells with a tall guy whose mom must have been from southern Asia. He doesn’t say anything to us as we come in, and none of my new sibling friends say anything to him. That suits me fine. Andrea grabs a sketch pad and some colored pencils and settles herself onto one of the couches to draw. Evan drags me over to one of the foosball tables, where Marc and Louise also grab handles. I’m terrible at the game, since I think I’ve played it maybe twice in my life before, but Evan and Louise coach me in some of the finer points of tabletop soccer. I even score a point near the end.

Marc chatters almost non-stop while we play, which doesn’t seem to bother the others but grates on me. It’s like the guy has no filter, just says whatever pops into his head. Maybe Evan and Louise are used to it, having lived with him literally their whole lives. I can kind of see why Chad doesn’t like him much. Louise is fun, but intensely competitive. I definitely like her, but she’s probably best in small doses. Evan is just great to have around.

The omnipresent electronic ding-dong sounds again, and my group disperses to work on their various projects. Evan invites me to come along and help him with his, since I haven’t started one of my own yet. It’s something about a better way to extract fresh water from seawater, which doesn’t sound all that interesting, but I don’t have anything better to do. We’re on our way back to the computer lab to work on it when Mrs. Hastings finds me again.

“Noah,” she greets me, “would you like to give your grandparents a call? I notified them last night of your arrival, but I thought you would like to let them know yourself that you’re settling in.”

As much fun as extra chemistry and engineering work with Evan sounds, Grammy and Gramps must be worried sick. I say goodbye to my huge brother and follow Mrs. Hastings. She leads me out and toward the mansion next door. “In case Even failed to tell you, this is the Residence. Mr. Butler and most of the staff members that live on premises have their quarters here, along with our youngest students. The infirmary, salon, spa, and other services are located on the eastern side of the first floor.”

She sweeps open the large wooden doors and escorts me through a huge open foyer where a dozen toddlers play together under the watchful eyes of some young-looking women, beautiful as usual. Their mothers? No, I don’t think so. They don’t have that mom vibe or bear any family resemblance with the child they’re each tending. Mrs. Hastings doesn’t slow, and I have to hurry to catch up to her as she heads down one of the hallways.

The carpet and wood-paneled walls with paintings every few yards between ornate light fixtures are a stark contrast to the spartan decor in the Learning Center and the dorms. Near the end of the wide hallway a plush armchair sits next to a small wooden half-circle table that holds a phone, one of the old-school ones with a wire to the wall and another to the handset. I remember we used to have one of these back home before Mom and I both got our mobiles. I miss having my phone, and I’m starting to suspect I’m not getting it back before I leave here.

“You know their number, I hope?” Mrs. Hastings says. I nod. “Good. My office is just at the end of the hall here. Please come see me when you are done.”

She leaves me to it, and I pick up the handset and dial. I settle into the armchair as the beeps tell me that the phone in Denver is ringing. After a couple of those, I hear a click and Grammy’s voice.

“Hello?”

“Hey Grammy, it’s me.”

“Noah!” she exclaims. “Are you OK? Did they hurt you?”

“No, I’m fine.” What did she think they were going to do to me? “They’re treating me well. How are you two doing?”

“I’m surviving. Let me get your grandfather on here,” she says.

“Sure.”

“Frank!” I hear her call. “Frank! Get in here, it’s Noah!”

“Is he OK?” I hear his voice faintly. “If they hurt him when they took him I swear I’ll—”

“He says he’s fine,” her voice says. “Noah, I’m putting you on speaker.”

“Hey Gramps.” I say. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m furious. I’m getting a lawyer and we’re getting you back right now. That man has no right to—”

“Just let it go,” I interrupt him. “By the time you get it to court, I’ll be eighteen. More importantly, why didn’t you tell me I had brothers and sisters here? Did you know?”

The other end of the line goes quiet.

“Your mother didn’t want you to know about that,” Grammy finally says. “Or anything about your father’s crazy compound. And after the way he treated her, I don’t blame her. I don’t know what he’s been telling you there, but your father is not a good man.”

“She just wanted to keep you safe,” Gramps adds, “and let you grow up normal. She didn’t want you growing up to be like him. And she definitely didn’t want you wrapped up in your father’s plans to remake the world. She was going to tell you everything when you turned eighteen. That’s when we would have told you too.”

I sigh. They were just doing what Mom wanted. I wish she’d told me.

“So how was the trip there?” Grammy asks.

“Not too bad,” I tell her. “That giant lawyer took my phone away, so I’m using the land line here. I’m not sure how often I’ll get to make calls.”

“I’m sorry, champ,” Gramps says. “We’ll get you a new one when you get out.”

“Thanks, Gramps. It got better today, though. The school here doesn’t seem terrible, even if it’s a little weird. My dorm room is fine. The food has nothing on your cooking, but it’s not too bad. And I really like some of my siblings.”

“Well that’s good to hear,” Grammy says. “We’re praying for you.”

“Thanks,” I tell her. Mom didn’t share her parents’ faith, so I never picked it up either. I don’t understand how they can believe in a God that would let Mom die like that, but their convictions don’t seem to have been shaken by the events of the last few weeks.

“So tell us everything,” Grammy insists. “I want to know all about your new home and your new friends.”

“It’s not his home, Helen,” Gramps snaps.

“Hush, Frank. Tell us everything, Noah.”

So I do. The next thing I know, the bell is ringing again with its electronic ding-dong.

“Hey, I think it’s dinner time here. I should probably go.”

“Don’t forget to write in your journal,” Grammy says.

“I will,” I tell her. “I promise.”

“We love you, Noah,” Gramps adds. “Remember who you are.”

As if I could forget. I say goodbye one more time and set the handset in its cradle. I get up and go through the open door at the end of the hall. Mrs. Hastings looks up from her neatly organized desk as I come in.

“Everything satisfactory with your grandparents, I hope?”

“Yes, thanks.”

“I imagine you’re anxious to meet your father,” she says. I give her an emphatic nod, which she answers with a sympathetic shake of her head. “Unfortunately, I just received word that he won’t be back today. I expect him either tomorrow evening or early on Saturday.”

She gets up and fetches a flat, rectangular shape from the shelf and hands it to me. “In the meantime, this is your tablet. It’s loaded with all your textbooks and everything else you’ll need for your coursework.” I take a look at the device. The thing is higher than high-end: a flat touch-screen computer no larger than a hardcover book. I’d heard rumors that SynTech was working on these, but I’ve never seen one before. Another perk of being in the Butler family, I guess.

“Your calendar is already loaded with your schedule,” she continues. “And you’ll get a meeting with your father as soon as he arrives. There’s also a system to requisition clothing or other necessities. I saw you didn’t bring much with you. Feel free to order whatever you feel you need. We don’t generally limit expenses unless they become exorbitant, so try to keep it under a few thousand dollars a month.”

My head reels with the amount. I don’t think I’ve spent more than a couple thousand on all the clothes I’ve ever worn in my life. I thank her and make a detour to drop the tablet off in my dorm room before following the streams of my siblings across the grassy commons to dinner. I get more friendly waves and greetings than I can count, and this time I can even respond in kind.

In the cafeteria, Evan waves me over to his table once I get my tray with steak, mashed potatoes, and broccoli. Louise and Andrea are already there with him. Marc is one table over, talking nonstop to a group of kids that look like they’re a couple of years younger. Jeff is off by himself in a corner again, his back to the room. I don’t see Chad anywhere, but I don’t care enough about him to ask where he is.

The food is good enough, and so is the company even though Andrea still doesn’t talk at all. It doesn’t feel like she’s silent though, since her face, in addition to being beautiful, is incredibly expressive. She pops little images in the air with her dancing fingers when she wants to say something. After dinner, Evan puts on a movie on one of the big screens in the common room of the dorms. Louise and Andrea take the couch next to ours. All three of them do homework on their tablets while we watch, which makes me suspect I’ll be doing that too tomorrow night.

The minimal sleep that I got last night must be taking its toll on me.  I’m exhausted by the time the credits roll. I beg off while my siblings are still doing homework and find my way back to the right hallway to go back to my room. I take one more look at the picture of Mom on the desk before settling into bed. I miss her a lot, but I’ve always wanted a brother or sister, and now I have dozens, and some that I even like. 

I’m dying to meet my father. I’ve been curious about him for as long as I can remember, and now that I’m here, I’m even more curious. Maybe this place won’t be so bad.