The apartment was dark, save for the blue glow of the TV. Freddie sat on the couch, staring at his banking app on his phone. The balance was a single digit number, and it wasn't a high one.
"We are still in the red," Freddie announced, tossing his phone onto the cushion. "The Pirate's Booty money covered the electric bill and the internet, but rent is due in four days. We need another miracle."
Selena sat next to him on the floor, polishing her plastic cutlass from the previous job with a microfiber cloth. "I can return to the vessel. Perhaps if I kick two customers, the tips will double. The math supports this theory."
"No," Freddie said quickly. "No more kicking. No more corsets. We need something safe."
The front door opened, and Avery shuffled in. She wasn't wearing her usual grey blanket cape; instead, she looked strangely professional (for her). She was wearing a clean hoodie that didn't have ramen stains and had actually brushed her hair.
"I have a solution," Avery announced, pushing her glasses up her nose. "Robin’s idea was flawed because it relied on... normie interactions. Selena isn't built for drunk sports fans. She’s built for logic."
Avery slapped a printed job listing onto the coffee table.
"The Gadget Grid," Avery said triumphantly. "It’s a third-party tech repair shop downtown. They need a 'Genius'. It pays eighteen dollars an hour."
Freddie picked up the paper. "Tech support?"
"Think about it," Avery said, tapping her temple. "No touching. No flirting. No drunk captains. Just computers. Selena understands code. She speaks the language of the machine. It’s the safest environment possible."
Freddie looked at Selena. She tilted her head, processing the information.
"I possess knowledge of all operating systems," Selena said. "I can diagnose hardware failure by sound alone. This quest seems... optimal."
Freddie sighed. "Okay. Tech support. It does sound safer. What could go wrong?"
The Loadout
The uniform was a tragedy.
It consisted of a bright, traffic-cone orange polo shirt and baggy beige khakis. Selena stood in the staff room of The Gadget Grid, staring at herself in the mirror with deep, existential disdain.
"This armor offers negative charisma," she stated flatly, plucking at the polyester fabric. "I look like an NPC who gives tutorial hints that nobody reads."
"You look professional," Freddie lied, trying to flatten the collar that refused to stay down. "Just... try not to scare anyone. If a phone is broken, fix it. Don't threaten it."
"Understood," Selena grumbled. She ripped the sleeves off the polo shirt with a sharp tear before Freddie could stop her. "Ventilation improved. Let us begin."
The Shift: Technomancer Mode
The manager was a nervous man named Gary who spent most of his time hiding in the back office. He pointed Selena to the service counter, handed her a screwdriver, and ran away.
Selena didn't work like a normal technician. She didn't use screwdrivers or diagnostic software.
A customer walked up with a water-damaged laptop. "I spilled coffee on it," the man admitted, looking guilty. "It won't turn on."
Selena didn't open the case. She placed her hand on the lid. She closed her eyes.
"The motherboard is drowning," she whispered. "Pathetic."
She glared at the laptop. A low hum filled the air. The fans inside the computer suddenly spun up to 500% speed, sounding like a drone taking off. Steam hissed out of the vents.
"There," Selena said, sliding it back to the terrified man. "Moisture evaporated. Fans overclocked. Do not feed it coffee again. It is lactose intolerant."
The customer stared, grabbed his laptop, and ran.
The Recurring Villains
The bell above the door chimed. A figure walked in, looking miserable. He was holding a shattered iPhone in a ziplock bag.
It was Trevor.
"I don't know, man," Trevor was muttering to himself. "I dropped it when we were running away from the... the Pirate Lady. I think the screen is dead."
He walked up to the counter, head down. "Hey, I need a screen replacement and—"
Selena spun around in her swivel chair.
"Trevor," she said.
Trevor froze. His soul left his body for a brief second. He looked up. He saw the orange polo. He saw the face.
"Oh god," Trevor whispered. "You work everywhere. Are you following me? Is this hell?"
"You damaged your communication node retreating from the previous engagement," Selena observed, picking up the ziplock bag. "Cowardice has a cost."
"Please," Trevor whimpered. "Just fix it. My mom is gonna kill me."
"Give me the device."
Selena took the phone out of the bag. She didn't reach for a replacement screen. She simply ran her index finger over the cracks. A small spark of blue static electricity jumped from her fingertip to the glass.
The cracks hissed and sealed themselves. The screen lit up, perfect and new.
"Whoa," Trevor gasped. "How did you—"
"I also took the liberty of optimizing your software," Selena said, scrolling through his phone. "I deleted your browser history. It was... shameful. I have never seen so many searches for 'how to talk to girls' and 'protein powder side effects'."
Trevor turned bright red. "You... you saw my history?"
"I also removed the parental content blocks your mother installed," Selena added. "You are an adult, Trevor. Act like one."
Trevor grabbed his phone, looking like he wanted to cry and high-five her at the same time. "Thanks... I think?"
He ran out of the store. "Guys! She fixed my phone! And she roasted me!"
The Incident: The Karen
The afternoon was going well. Gary the Manager was impressed by the turnover rate.
Then, The Karen arrived.
She was a woman with a haircut that demanded to speak to a manager and a perfectly functional, brand-new smartphone in her hand. She slammed it onto the counter.
"This thing is piece of junk!" she screamed at Freddie, who had just stopped by to bring Selena a sandwich. "It’s too slow! My Facebook takes three seconds to load! I want a refund!"
"Ma'am," Freddie stammered. "I don't actually work here, I just—"
"Don't give me excuses! You incompetent millennial! Fix it or get me someone who has a brain!"
Selena, who had been fixing a tablet nearby, slowly set down her tools.
"User error detected," she announced, stepping between Freddie and The Karen.
"Excuse me?" The Karen gasped.
"The device is functional," Selena said, her voice dropping to that dangerous monotone. "The interface between the chair and the keyboard is defective. Your processor speed is insufficient for the technology."
"Are you calling me stupid?" The Karen shrieked. "I want to speak to your manager! I want you fired!"
"I will improve the user experience," Selena said calmly. She snatched the phone from the woman’s hand.
"Hey! Give that back!"
"The problem is the data," Selena said. She pressed a single button combination that shouldn't have existed. "Bloatware detected. Purging."
The phone screen flashed black. Then white. Then it rebooted to the "Hello" setup screen.
"There," Selena handed it back. "I have performed a Factory Reset. The problem—your photos, your contacts, your Candy Crush levels—has been purged. The device is now fast."
The Karen stared at the phone. She tapped the screen. It was empty. Her life was gone.
She let out a scream that shattered the quiet hum of the store. "MY PICTURES! MY CAT PICTURES!"
The Aftermath
"YOU DELETED HER LIFE?!"
Gary ran out from the back, hyperventilating. "We don't do that! We back things up! You're fired! Get out before she sues us!"
Selena looked at the screaming woman, then at Gary. She reached up and ripped the orange polo shirt straight down the middle, revealing her black tank top underneath.
"This guild is trash anyway," she declared, stepping out of the ruined uniform. "They charge forty credits for a cable that costs two credits to manufacture. It is a scam."
She grabbed Freddie’s hand. "Come, Administrator. We are leaving."
They walked out into the parking lot. Freddie looked at the shattered remains of his hopes for rent money.
"Well," Freddie sighed. "You lasted three hours this time."
"She was rude to you," Selena said, crossing her arms. "I simply optimized her karma."
Freddie smiled weakly. "Thanks, Selena. Remind me never to let you fix my laptop."
His phone buzzed. It was a text from Robin.
Robin: Okay, heard about the Apple Store disaster. Avery is 0 for 1. My turn again. Third time's the charm. My friend manages a high-end bar downtown. No uniforms. Big tips. Can she mix a drink?
Selena read the text over his shoulder.
"I know the molecular structure of ethanol," she said, cracking her knuckles. "I can mix anything."
Freddie looked at the text, then at the sky. "Okay. One last try. The bar."