Project Humanoid: A Coming of Age Sci-Fi Story

Chapter One

I grinned as Kara stepped up to the plate. She tapped her feet with the fat end of the bat before bringing it into position over her right shoulder. The sunlight gleamed off her prosthetic arm, a sleek piece of technology that made her the best hitter on our team. I bent my knees forward, keeping my left foot firm on the second base marker as I extended my right leg out a little bit.

"Watch out! Here comes the Whopper queen!" I shouted, chuckling when the other players joined in.

I loved game days. There really wasn't anything better than playing games with my friends after spending a week locked up. Okay, not locked up. My parents liked to keep a routine, not in a strict way, but there were consequences when I was late for curfew. I was grounded last week because I overused my energy and needed the week to recharge.

"Watch your mouth, Benny!" Kara shouted back, but her laughter echoed across the field. "You gotta work on your nicknames, pal! Whopper is taken already!"

There were a few hollers in agreement; everyone knew I was horrible at giving nicknames. But at least I tried and failed, knowing I was bad at it.

"Hey, batter-batter-batter-batter-batter!" someone out in the field shouted.

Kara shook her head as she stood straight, leaning the bat against her thigh. Turning to the game-watchers in the bleachers, she gave a mock salute. Her prosthetic arm moved seamlessly, a reminder of how far technology had come.

"Now you have something to be worried about!" I shouted, cupping my hands over my mouth. "Kara's activating her superpowers!"

Kara's eyes met mine, and for a moment, I saw the spark of determination mixed with the playful challenge in her gaze. It was moments like these that made me grateful for friends like her.

As Kara readied herself again, I couldn't help but glance at the sky, noticing the sun dipping lower. I still had time before curfew, but the thought of last week's grounding lingered in my mind. My parents always said it was for my own good, but sometimes, I wondered if there was more to it.

A sudden crack brought my focus back to the game. Kara had swung with all her might, sending the ball soaring. I cheered with the rest of the team as she dashed toward first base.

At that moment, everything felt perfect. Yet, deep down, a part of me knew that this simple, carefree life was fragile. And soon, I would discover just how much my world was built on secrets.

* * *

As Kara and I walked home, we recapped the game, teasing each other about our batting skills. Kara's laugh was infectious as she recalled her dramatic slide home.

"Today was good," she said, swinging her glove at her side. "I just wish the season wasn't over."

"We play out of season all the time, Kara," I reminded her, stopping at the red 'Do not walk' sign. "We don't need the team to play ourselves."

"That's not what I mean," she sighed, shaking her head and dragging her aluminum bat along the ground behind us as we crossed the street. "My mom made me join an all-girls team. She thinks playing with the neighborhood isn't real ball training."

"But isn't that what you wanted in the first place? You started playing with us because our coach also teaches at the camp. You wanted him to notice you."

"Yeah, but not like this. I love our team, and playing with you was always a plus."

"For sure."

Kara sighed, kicking at a rock in her path. Her prosthetic arm glinted in the evening light, a constant reminder of how determined she was. She was one of the best players our team had; I knew her mom must have had another reason for pulling her.

"It's for the scholarship, isn't it?" I asked, squeezing the ball I had tucked in my glove. "Your mom just wants you to take advantage of your bright future."

"We are in the future, Benny," Kara replied, grabbing my shoulder and making me look at her. "We literally just walked into it. I don't even know if I want a career in the league. I've learned to play for the love of the game. My mom had to go and ruin that too."

I could see the frustration in her eyes, a mix of rebellion and sadness. "Kara, you're an amazing player. No matter what team you're on or what league you end up in, you'll always have the love of the game. Don't let anyone take that from you."

She gave me a small smile, her grip on my shoulder tightening briefly. "Thanks, Benny. You always know what to say."

As we continued walking, I couldn't help but feel a mix of pride and something else—a warmth in my chest whenever Kara looked at me like that. Maybe there was more to this friendship than I had let myself believe.

* * *

After leaving Kara at her house, I headed home, the familiar streets lit by the soft glow of streetlights. When I walked through the front door, the scent of dinner greeted me. My mother, Ellen, was in the kitchen, finishing up the meal.

"Hey, Mom," I called out, dropping my baseball glove and bat by the door.

"Hi, Benny!" she replied, her face lighting up with a warm smile. "How was the game?"

"It was great," I said, moving to help set the table. "Kara hit a home run, and we all had a blast. How was your day?"

"Oh, the usual," she said, waving a hand dismissively. "Work was busy, but nothing out of the ordinary. I'm just glad to have you home safe."

We sat down for dinner, and she served a delicious meal of pasta and salad. We chatted about my friends and school while we ate. It was a routine we had developed over the years, and it always made me feel connected to her, even when I sensed she was holding back parts of her life from me.

Just as we finished eating, the front door opened, and my father, James, walked in. He looked tired but gave me a big smile when he saw me.

"Hey, sport!" he greeted, ruffling my hair as he passed by. "How was the game?"

"Awesome. We won," I said, grinning up at him.

"Great to hear! Let's watch the highlights together," he suggested.

We moved to the living room, where our holographic TV system flickered to life. The room filled with 3D projections of the players, making it feel like we were right there on the field. My father and I settled into the couch, cheering and analyzing plays as the game unfolded.

After the game, I felt the familiar tug of exhaustion. My internal battery monitor, visible in the corner of my left eye, showed that my energy levels were getting low. I bid my father goodnight and headed upstairs.

As I passed by the room across from mine, I couldn't help but glance at the door. It had been my brother Robbie's room. He had died before I was "born," but his presence still lingered in the house. My parents had kept his room exactly as it was, a shrine to the son they lost.

I entered my room and started my nightly routine. My mother followed me in, helping me prepare for bed. She was always meticulous, making sure I was comfortable and ready for the night.

"Goodnight, Benny," she said softly as she connected the charging cable to the port on my side. I felt the familiar warmth as the charger engaged, a gentle hum filling the room.

"Goodnight, Mom," I replied, giving her a tired smile.

As I lay back on my bed, I accessed the various interfaces in my system. Vital levels appeared in my left eye, showing my heart rate, battery level, and other metrics. In my right eye, I had access to the internet, allowing me to browse information, watch videos, or even read books without needing a physical device.

Despite the advanced technology embedded in me, moments like this felt oddly normal, almost comforting. My mother gave me one last kiss on the forehead before leaving the room. The door clicked shut, and I closed my eyes, the charging station ensuring I would be fully recharged by morning.

As I drifted off to sleep, I couldn't shake the feeling that despite all these advancements, there were still so many things I didn't understand about myself and my family. But for now, I allowed myself to rest, surrounded by the familiar hum of technology and the warmth of home.