Chapter 9
7 am.
My collection of old Earther alarm clocks goes berserk, right on schedule. I grin into my pillow. These wake-up calls are the best.
“Good morning,” cries one clock. “It’s Howdy Doody time!”
“Who’s asleep in a pineapple under the sea?” sings another.
And finally, the best and newest addition to my collection.
“Luke, I am your wake-up call.”
Reaching under my mattress, I pull out my data pad and scan for news. There’s still nothing about RCM1. Yes. Say what you want about Fritz, the guy does deliver. Then again, my data pad isn’t enough total proof. I still must hit school and check the official information streams. Again, that means leaving my hidey-hole of scientific joy and interacting with other kids my age.
Yuck.
Swinging my legs over the side of my cot, I haul
