A/N – Yes, as some of you have mentioned, Jenny is the only one of our heroes to go back in time. That doesn't mean we won't see any familiar faces. I will say that Drew is taking a breather this time around; he's pretty prominent in most of my stories, and I thought y'all might like a break from him. I wanted to try writing a story that focused much more on Jenny – who is the star of the show, after all.
Lonestarr: I think you're right about Drew's line. I'd heard it somewhere, I just couldn't remember where.
Whack to the Future
A "My Life as a Teenage Robot" Fanfic
Chapter Three – The Wrong Place at the Wrong Time
Jenny ran down the peaceful suburban road in a state of shock, unable to accept the things her eyes were seeing. Every house on either side of the street was an old-style pre-deco house, typical of turn-of-the-century construction. The cars in the driveways were all smooth and slippery, like giant bars of soap, without any of the popular modern flourishes like domed cockpits or tail fins. None of them looked like they were capable of flight. She knelt down to inspect the strange, rounded trunk of one of the cars, and noticed some identifying writing. 'Honda Accord.' Never heard of it. The license plate looked different, too. And it had an orange sticker on the corner that read "Oct 2004."
"Oh no, oh no," she squealed, struggling to keep her anxiety in check. "Oh no, that egghead Mogg did not send us back to the turn of the century. Aiiieeee …."
The newspaper was still sitting on the walkway of a nearby house. She grabbed it, first noticing that the paper was called the Centerville Tribune instead of the Tremorton Tribune. The news was all about elections and scandals and wars … well, some things never change, she sighed. But there was nothing about alien attacks, or the Cluster threat, or giant invisible eyeballs. "Motorists outraged as gasoline soars to two dollars a gallon" … cars are still burning gasoline here?
The date at the top of the paper was Monday, May 10, 2004.
"Ho boy ho boy ho boy," she gulped, rubbing her metallic hands together fretfully. "Okay, this isn't a problem. This is not a problem. The time machine brought us here, it can take us back. All I have to do is find that little weasel Phinneas Mogg, and …"
"Hey, you! What are you doing with my newspaper?!?"
Jenny lowered the newspaper to see a middle-aged woman in gym pants and a lime green t-shirt standing at the front door of the house. She was holding a thick pair of glasses in her hands, cleaning the lenses with her shirttail. Her eyes were narrowed into a squint, and a scowl adorned her doughy face. "I finally caught you! Punk neighbor kids. My paper's been stolen three times in the past week …"
"No! I wasn't stealing your paper, honest!" Jenny said nervously. "I'm just trying to find …"
"I ought to call the cops on you." The woman pulled out a small box, labeled Marlboro Lights. Jenny lifted a perplexed eyebrow as the woman took a thin paper tube from the box, and put it in her mouth. Then she started making clicking noises with a small plastic device. "Stupid lighter. Hey, tell you what kid, if you got any matches on you, I'll forget the whole thing."
"Matches? You want to set that thing in your mouth … on fire? Uh … okay." It sounded like a strange request, but if it would calm her down … Jenny's index finger popped open, deploying a small laser.
The housewife put the thick glasses back on her face – and nearly had a stroke. The "punk kid" she was talking to was a six-and-a-half-foot tall metallic monster, with some kind of death ray in her finger. A thin red beam jumped out of the barrel of the laser, igniting her cigarette … which tumbled to the ground as she screamed at the top of her lungs.
Jenny was as unnerved as the housewife, and she backed away from the single-story house, towards the road. Then the air was filled with the high-pitched screech of automobile tires. She turned to see a blue hatchback sliding past her, wildly out of control. The driver was staring at her, stone-faced, in complete and total awe. The hatchback spun around 180 degrees, and slid into the ditch.
Her rescue programming kicked in, and she sprinted the short distance to the ditch, where the hatchback was resting on its side, its tires still spinning. Jenny picked the car up easily, and set it back on the pavement. Thankfully, neither the car nor the driver seemed to be seriously hurt. "Gosh, are you all right? You should try to be more careful, mister," she said, trying to sound calm and reassuring. "I think these scratches will buff right out …" Her right hand retracted, and a rotary polishing tool deployed …
Then she realized that the driver was still staring at her as if she were a Martian invader. He slammed his car into reverse, punched the accelerator, and screeched off in the opposite direction – only to run into telephone pole a hundred feet away.
By now at least half a dozen people had walked out on their front lawns, gaping at Jenny in amazement. She was used to stares from strangers in public all the time, but these people were staring at her like she'd just walked off of the screen of a horror movie. "Man, you'd think they'd never seen a robot girl before!" she huffed to herself.
Uh-oh … no, they haven't. This was an age long before intelligent robots – let alone super-powered teenagers who could lift cars over their head. Suddenly, it seemed like a good idea to get out of sight as quickly as possible. Giving the stunned residents of the suburban neighborhood one last thrill, Jenny rotated her pigtails to flight position, and blasted into the sky on twin plumes of blue exhaust. In seconds, she had disappeared into a pale blue blur, high in the skies over … Centerville.
Nothing looked right. The mall wasn't where it was supposed to be – but then again, she remembered, it had only been built ten years ago. The big sixty-story skyscraper in the middle of town, the building that dominated the skyline and showed up on all of Tremorton's tourism ads … the skyscraper simply didn't exist. I think it was built sometime back in the 2030's … sigh, now I wish I'd paid attention in History class. She glided over the downtown area, trying to recognize the layout of the streets. Many of them looked familiar, but things had changed a lot over seventy years.
She shook her head clear, and tried to calm down. Okay, the time machine is hidden in the woods, so nobody's going to find it. It might be damaged. She didn't have the first clue about how her mother's time machine worked, so she certainly wouldn't be able to fix it. But Dr. Mogg would – her mother had mentioned that the machine was based on his theories. So now the problem was finding him – soon. Because Jenny's instincts told her that Mogg had come back to this particular time for one reason – to cause trouble.
Jenny converted her pigtails to a pair of scanning dishes, and zoomed her eyes twelve inches out of her face, surveying the streets below for the short, stocky form of Dr. Mogg. Flying along under the power of her rocket-toes, she tried to think of the first likely place that he might go …
All of the sudden, Jenny realized that she wasn't alone in the sky anymore. Her auditory inputs picked up the deep chop-chop-chop sound of whirling blades. She glanced over her shoulder to see a police helicopter, struggling to keep pace with her as she circled over downtown Centerville.
"Attention unknown aircraft," boomed a loudspeaker on the belly of the helicopter. "You are currently in violation of multiple city ordinances and FAA laws. Identify yourself immediately, and …"
She gulped nervously, retracted her eyes, and hovered in place on her pigtail-jets. In the cockpit of the helicopter, she could see two policemen staring at her in disbelief. The pilot got the nerve to edge a little closer, until Jenny had to shield her eyes and face from the powerful downdraft of the main rotor. The last thing she wanted was to get in trouble with the police. She gave the two officers an innocent, girlish wave, and then blasted her jets to full power, rocketing towards a group of brick buildings downtown.
The young pilot glanced over to his senior officer, who had been working the PA. "Um … you want we should call this in, captain?"
The older policeman gave him a stern look. "I got three months to go until my pension. I didn't see nothin'. You didn't see nothin'. Got it?"
"Got it," he gulped, as the helicopter banked off in the opposite direction.
Jenny streaked towards the ground and hit the brakes at the last second, slowing to a soft landing in a loading area behind a string of downtown businesses. She darted behind a large green dumpster, and checked the area to make sure she hadn't been seen. It was the middle of the day, and the busy sounds of commerce and activity were all around her; but for the time being, she was alone in the alleyway.
"Wow, and people back home think I'm a freak," she pouted to herself. "These guys think I'm a monster. I've got to think of some way to move around without causing a riot. Hmmm … I could just wait until dark … no, I don't want to spend the day hiding behind a giant garbage can." She held out her shiny steel arms, frowning at them. "Stupid metal body! I told Mom that we needed a new exo-skin, but she wouldn't listen to me. She said I'd only use it to hang out at the mall and go to parties. Which I would definitely do, of course. But it sure would be nice to have right now …"
She carefully walked along the alleyway, and surveyed the names above the loading doors. "Domino's. Must be some kind of game store. Huh, they sure go through a lot of pizza. Kinko's. Ewghh, I don't even want to know what goes on in there. Subway. Cool, if I get tired, I won't have to walk … but I don't have any money for tokens. Salvation Army. Wow, if I don't want to get in trouble with the police, then I really don't want to get in trouble with the military. Better try a different hiding place …"
But Jenny noticed that there were stacks of boxes behind the Salvation Army building, and they were all filled with civilian clothes, not military uniforms. "I guess the military uses these to blend into the crowd, for undercover missions." She grinned, and she started enthusiastically rummaging through the rest of the boxes. "That's not a bad idea!"
The young man in the business suit shuffled back and forth impatiently, waiting for the crossing signal to turn green. Suddenly a hand reached out and tapped him on the shoulder. "Excuse me, sir," said a teenage girl's voice. "I'm trying to find my … um … uncle. He's about four feet tall, wearing a white lab coat, glasses, and he has a bushy brown beard. Have you seen him?"
"Sorry, miss, haven't seen anyone like that …" Then he did a double-take. "Geez, did you just step out of a time machine?"
"W-what!?!"
"Is your school having a 'Seventies Day' or something? Oh … there's the light. Sorry I couldn't help you," he shouted, as he ran across the intersection.
Jenny looked at her reflection in a plate glass window. The whole idea behind the exo-skin was to cover up her robotic exterior. So, she thought, why not try the same thing with clothes? It had actually been fun going through the clothes in the Salvation Army boxes, trying on different outfits. Her mother had never let her wear clothes before.
But the clothes in the boxes hadn't been that stylish, and most of them hadn't fit. And the main idea was to cover up as much of her metal skin as possible. She'd found a pair of flared trousers – fashion nightmares, but they were shaped just like her legs. She covered her torso and arms with a large turtleneck sweater, and cinched an old belt where her 'human' waist would be … if she were human. The gloves were ugly and clashed with the belt, but she couldn't leave her hands uncovered. And to top everything off, she had found a long dark wig. It sat flat on her head, with bangs that came halfway down over her eyes; but it did cover her pigtails, which she had folded away for storage.
"I finally get to wear clothes," she sighed at the window, "and I look like that old hippie lady that works in the aromatherapy store at the mall." Well, she was drawing the odd stare, but nobody was flailing their arms in panic. Her bigger concern was tracking down that loony old scientist. She'd been walking around Centerville for three hours now, and still didn't have a clue as to where she might find …
Phinneas Mogg. There he was, reflected in the window. Jenny wheeled around to see her fellow time traveler scurrying along the sidewalk on the other side of the street. He glanced back and forth, and ducked into a store called Radio Shack.
"Finally!" And just where do you think you're going, you little sneak? Jenny bolted across the street, ignoring the red light – she couldn't afford to lose track of Mogg a second time. She paused in front of the door to calm down and straighten her wig, then she walked in.
There were a dozen people in the store – and most of them were young and geeky-looking. Dr. Mogg stuck out like a sore thumb. He was browsing through racks of electrical parts, grabbing packets of fuses and switches. He didn't look like he was up to any mischief. Jenny snuck up behind him, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible, until she was standing directly behind the old man.
"Ahem."
Mogg spun around with a start. "Good heavens, young lady – you gave me a bit of a scare. Hope I wasn't in your way. Are you looking for something?"
She folded her arms with a scowl. "As a matter of fact, I am." Then she lowered her voice. "I'm looking for a sneaky scientist from the future who stole my mother's time machine."
Mogg nearly fell over backwards. "What … I … wait a minute. Robot? Is that you?"
Jenny took a glove off, wiggled her metallic fingers, and slipped it back on. "If you weren't just an old man, I'd be tempted to whoop your butt. What's the big idea?"
Mogg stammered for a few seconds, checked to make sure nobody else in the store was within earshot, then regained his composure. "What do you think I'm doing? As you might have noticed, the time machine is damaged. I came into town to scout for supplies, so I may effect repairs!"
"And you needed to sneak off without me to do that, huh?" she hissed. "You came back to this time to monkey around with history, didn't you?!?"
"That's outrageous!" he protested. "Look, robot – the last time I saw you, you were short circuiting in a puddle of water. I thought you had been rendered inoperative, so I headed into town by myself. Besides, I wouldn't have brought you along anyway. As you have no doubt noticed …" – he tugged at her sweater – "… you don't exactly blend in with the crowd. In fact, it's you who is foolishly jeopardizing history! If any of these yokels came face to face with a fully functioning automaton, why they'd …"
"Yeah, yeah, I get the picture," she huffed, her eyes narrowing into an angry stare. Everything that Mogg said was right, technically – and unfortunately, she was dependent on him to fix the time machine. But she still didn't trust him in the slightest. "Don't worry about me – the sooner you get your gizmos and fix my mom's machine, the sooner we can get out of here."
"I've secured a room here in town to serve as a makeshift workshop, while I build a replacement part." He glared back at her, matching her confrontational tone. "I would suggest that you return to the woods in the new subdivision, to guard the time machine. Stay out of sight – and stay out of my way." Jenny fumed at him, but Mogg just smirked and walked away, heading towards the back of the store.
Mogg grinned to himself. It was obvious that the robot girl didn't like him, and that suited his purposes just fine. She might have been useful as a lab helper … no doubt she had all manner of tools that would come in handy right now. But there was no way she would've helped with the electronics work he had planned for tonight. Besides, he already had an assistant lined up. A bright young fellow he'd met outside of the local high school.
Dr. Mogg approached a chubby teenage boy, with spiky dark hair and a hint of stubble on his chin. He wore thick glasses – just like his – and had a familiar, arrogant sneer on his face. The young boy snorted a greeting at the doctor, then returned his attention to a row of electronics parts on the shelf.
"Have you found the AC motors I told you to get, Phinneas?" asked the doctor.
"Geez, call me Vinny, wouldya?" grumbled the teenager. "My grandma calls me Phinneas. How the heck did you know what my real name was, anyway? Gawd, Phinneas is such a retarded name."
"Don't worry, young fellow, you'll grow into it," smiled the doctor. "Let's just worry about that robot project you're working on for this Friday's little contest. Why don't you show it to me after dinner tonight, and we can … discuss some improvements?"
"Pfft. Yeah sure, whatever, old-timer. I'm working on the 'Mogg Masher' tonight in the garage. But I think it's a little late to convert it to run on steam power," he chuckled sarcastically.
Dr. Mogg just laughed, and shook his head. "Always so fast with the smart-mouth remark. I have to say, 'Vinny' … you remind me so much of myself at your age." Vinny didn't understand why the weird old man found that so funny.
Jenny balled her fists in rage, and fought to control her temper as the arrogant Dr. Mogg strolled off to the back of the store. Who does he think he is, ordering me around like … like I was his robotic servant or something! I wouldn't want to spend another second of my time with him anyway. She ground her teeth for a moment, frustrated at her situation. At least the old coot was working on repairs to the time machine. But until he was finished … there was nothing for her to do but wait.
A tall, thin boy with dark hair and a pleasant face walked up to her. He seemed to be about high school age, and from his uniform, Jenny guessed that he was working as a store clerk. He looked all right, and maybe was even a little cute, but he was definitely a nerd. "Ex-excuse me, miss," he said in a cracking voice. "Is there something I can help you find?"
"No thanks, I found everything I'm looking for," she huffed, shooting a dirty look in Mogg's direction. I'm not sticking around this place. 'Jeopardize history.' Pfft. I'm not going to do anything stupid enough to jeopardize history, she grumbled to herself, still seething at Mogg's patronizing tone. Besides, I'm pretty sure nothing historic ever happened in a place like Geek Central here. Maybe there's an old-fashioned mall around town somewhere where I can hang out. I wonder if they had malls back in 2004?
Jenny stomped her way towards the store exit, her anger at Mogg still simmering. She blew her way through the swinging door …
And knocked a pedestrian ten feet backwards, onto the sidewalk.
The young girl had been just about to open the door when Jenny blasted her way outside. "Oh no," gasped Jenny, "I'm so sorry! I didn't see you there!" She knelt down to help the girl up, and started gathering the notebooks that had fallen out of her backpack.
The girl, who looked to be a teenager herself, sat up awkwardly on the concrete and cradled her face in her hands. "Oh .. oh, d-don't worry, it's okay, I sh-should have been paying more attention myself."
Then she cringed, as a chorus of laughter erupted nearby. A group of three attractive teenage girls, dressed in trendy clothes, was hanging out in front of a Smoothie store next to the Radio Shack. And they were having a good laugh at the awkward girl's troubles.
"Never mind them," said Jenny. "Let's have a look at your face. Does anything hurt?"
She pulled the girl's hands away … and felt the turbopumps in her chest stop cold.
Her plain form was dressed in a simple long-sleeved sweater and a pleated skirt. Her slightly tangled light brown hair hung over her shoulders in a mess, falling away from her long, thin face. Her small dark eyes were welling up with tears, but from the expression on her face, they were tears of embarrassment, not of pain. The force of the door's impact had knocked her glasses crooked. She reached up to straighten them out on her nose … her long nose … her long, familiar nose …
"I feel kind of funny," whined the girl, blinking her eyes. "Oh, no … I think … I think I'm going to have a nose bleed." She grabbed her backpack out of Jenny's hands, frantically rummaging for a tissue. Jenny caught a glimpse inside, of a printed flyer titled '2004 Robot Rumble'.
The trendy girls were still laughing. "Better watch out," shouted the blonde, "if Nora's nose busts loose, it could flood the town!"
Jenny kept staring, her face frozen in shock. "N-N-Nora?" No way. No way! Mom?
Nora clamped a wad of tissue over her red, puffy nose, looking pathetic and horrifically embarrassed. "D-don't worry, this happens all the time," she said in a mousey voice. "I h-have thin nasal membranes. It'll dry up in a few s-seconds …"
The store clerk rushed out of the Radio Shack, drawn by the commotion. "What's going on out here? Is everything all right? Does somebody need me to call nine-one-one?"
"Hey Nora!" sneered the trendy blonde, "here's your big chance to impress him. Don't poke his eyes out with your needle-nose, okay?"
That was the breaking point. Young Nora, fifteen years of age, scrambled to her feet, mortified with embarrassment. She clutched her backpack to her chest and sprinted off down the street, tears streaming from her eyes, eager to get as far away as she could as fast as possible.
It had all happened so fast. Jenny had just run into her mother … literally … as a fifteen-year old girl! She picked up an electronics textbook that had fallen out of Nora's backpack, with a blizzard of thoughts whirling through her electronic mind. This is unbelievable! This is so freaked out! I kind of feel bad for bumping into her like that … oh, no … I hope I didn't just mess up the past somehow … She tried to calm herself down. Nah, no way. I just bumped into her, and she's not hurt. It's just a little nose bleed. What's the worst that could happen?
The annoying trendy girls were still cackling amongst themselves. The blonde waved at the store clerk, who was looking very confused and intimidated in the presence of so many teenage girls. "Hey there, big guy. I think Science Queen has the hots for you."
The store clerk blinked nervously, then adjusted his shirt collar. "I … uh … snort … I have to get back inside and debug the software on the store's computer."
"Ha, ha! You do that! Run along now, Sidney!"
Sidney? The name hit Jenny between the eyes like a brick. She tried to remember something her mother had been blathering on about earlier, when she was talking about the stupid Robot Roundup – the very first robot contest that she had ever won. She had teamed up with a boy named Sidney, who was some kind of computer programming expert … just the type of geek who would work in a place like this.
"Excuse me?" she blurted, grabbing the clerk by the arm. "Did they say your name was Sidney?"
"Uh … that's right," he mumbled, his voice cracking again. "Sidney Wakeman."
Continued in Chapter Four