It's good to be back in the real world instead of living in the code in my head all the time. The last few days have flown by. Sometimes literally, as I've been practicing with the flight options. I can see why Chad likes it so much. There's an adrenaline rush from cruising at low altitude and high speed while encased in a protective shell of nanobots. The flight suit that the bots form is customizable, which is cool. Tweaking the color scheme is easy, and adding style details isn't hard either. I go with a red and gold pattern in tribute to an old comic book hero I used to love. I have to admit that I had to look him up. I had vague memories that I liked him, but I couldn't remember what he looked like.

It's funny that I could remember him at all, but then again, it didn't come back to me until after I'd armored up and taken my first flight around. I think the memory triggered when it was prompted, like some others have. That gives me hope that I can regain more of my past if I can get some reminders. I bet if I looked through my old stuff that Grammy and Gramps are keeping at their house, more would come back to me. I'm tempted to have them send it here, but I don't want to be distracted by it right now. Not until I've killed him.

Anyway, the nursery kids are just as delighted by my aerobatics as they were with Chad's. I take another loop around the commons, my blur of red and gold causing a gust of wind across the Residence steps where a crowd of little ones sit with their nannies. The women seem to enjoy the show too. I wonder if Chad was showing off for them instead of the kids. I've seen the way he looks at them when he thinks no one sees. After what I've learned, I'm not worried about impressing them. I have no interest in hooking up with anyone that's already part of Father's baby-making operation. From the way Chad's eyes linger on them, I don't think he has any such reservations.

And my douchebag brother is done now with his elaborate stretching routine out on the grass. He suits up and joins me in flying laps around the commons. He's wearing the less cool standard flight suit, a sleek thing in shiny black with minimal adornments and a rounded helmet. The kids get more excited and whoop and holler for us to race. We do, and he wins. Not surprising, he's spent a lot more time practicing with the flight suit than I have.

"Good race, brother," he declares as we touch down and our helmets dissolve. His flight suit melts away as he reaches out for a handshake. I let my suit go and take his proffered hand. I even force myself to give him a smile.

"You too."

"Have you thought about what you want to focus on for the next few years?" he says with what feels like practiced casualness. Something about it makes me feel like this is some kind of job interview.

"I don't know. I've got a spot waiting for me at Stanford that they held for another year, so maybe that. Why do you ask?"

Chad laughs and slaps me on the back in a way-too-familiar way.

"You're thinking much too small, Noah," he declares with that confident smile of his that still makes me want to punch him. "We've got a calling much higher than that. I'm going back to Africa soon. I'm going to do what we did in Ethiopia everywhere that I can find people that need clean water."

Father's cryptic note about Chad leaving triggers from my index and pops up in my overlay. So that's what he was talking about. Is Chad really leaving? It seems almost too good to be true.

"That's great," I tell him, kicking on my polygraph functions. I trust Chad about as far as I can throw him. "Is Father going to be all right without you? It seems like he counts on you a lot around here."

"Yeah, I've been planning this with him. The whole thing was actually his idea. As long as a few of us stay here with him, the rest of us can go out and take on the missions that we think are most important. I've been setting up my support team for the last few weeks. I should be ready to go at the start of the new year."

Pulse steady, no changes in eye dilation, blood pressure normal. All true, as far as my cloud's analytics can tell.

"I wondered where you've been lately. Well, congratulations," I tell him sincerely. "Good for you."

Good for him, better for me. As much as I dislike him, I don't want to kill Chad. But I hadn't been able to figure out any way to avoid it. There was no way I could have kept him on the sidelines when things went down. This is better. I just need to delay the plan a few weeks. I think I can do that. I'm not past the point of no return with Jeff yet.

"Thanks, Noah. One more thing. I want you to keep an eye on things here for me when I'm gone, would you?" he asks in that patronizing tone of his. "Father needs a lot of help. He's not the young man he once was."

I nearly laugh. The irony is almost too much. And it's not like he ever knew Father as a young man. He was over fifty when Chad and I were born.

"Of course," I answer, carefully keeping the smirk from my face. "I'll help him out with whatever he needs."

"Great." He flashes that smug too-handsome smile of his. "I'll let him know. Hey, I think the kids want another show, you up for it?"

I focus on the eyes looking in their direction. I think one of the more enterprising five-year-olds is starting to take bets from his class.

"Yeah, why not?"

With a thought, I encase myself back in red and gold, complete with the iconic visor. The eye slits are way too narrow to be useful, but I don't care. I only use my bot vision when I do stuff like this anyway, and the fashion statement is worth it. Raising two fists high, more for the audience on the steps than for any practical reason, I jump and rocket into the air. We don't actually go all that fast in these things, less than the top speed of a decent car, but you don't need to actually be that fast when you're flying low to appear to be moving like a bullet. The little ones and their nannies cheer as we start a lap around the campus.

Chad's suit isn't as stylish as mine, but he makes up for the lack of flair by throwing in some flourishes that I wouldn't even think to try. His quick twirls and corkscrews earn him big cheers but slow him down a little. We both touch down at nearly the same instant back in front of the Residence to a thunderous applause.

"Very good, my sons! Very good!" Father's voice rings out over the clapping and squealing of the children. He makes his way down the steps, careful not to step on the youngest ones as nannies shepherd them back inside through the big double doors. We turn to meet him, suits melting off again.

"Have you discussed the good news with Noah, Chad?"

He looks back and forth between us, his proud dad smile filling his visage.

"Yes, Father. I just told him before that flight."

"Good, good. Noah, once he is gone, are you willing to spare a few hours each day to help me?"

Increased access? More opportunities to find a good chance to kill you? And no Chad around? Yes, please!

"Yeah, I can do that," I answer in as casual a tone as I can manage.

"Excellent!" Father says jubilantly. "I was thinking that some sort of celebration would be in order to mark the occasion, don't you two agree?"

"Yes, Father," Chad says.

"Sure."

"Good, good!" He gives us one more pleased grin. "Please get together with Mrs. Hastings and make the arrangements. I'm sure the two of you can put something memorable together in time for Chad's departure."

"Of course, Father," Chad gushes, basking in Father's approval.

The old man turns and ambles back into the Residence. Chad and I follow behind him to find Mrs. Hastings and get started on the party planning.