Page 9 of The Planetary Systems Preservation Committee Decided We Needed a Nanny

I shake my head, because this is familiar. “We have a similar thing with moms who work versus moms who stay at home. It’s getting better, I think, but for a while there was a lot of contention between the two types of mothers. It’s not like there’s one right way to parent, you know? Every child requires a different interaction with their parent, and saying there’s only one way to do it right is like telling people they have to use forks for every meal and then serving porridge once a day. It’s stupid. Ugh, people are the worst. You do you, Lora. Be the peacekeeper you know you are, and ignore the rest of the idiots who can’t seem to figure out they need a spoon to eat the porridge.”

Lora considers my random analogy with an affectionate smile on his thin lips. “Yes, I believe that is an accurate description of what I do. Tell me, Ollie, are you rested enough to pack now, or shall I return after my rest period?”

I sigh, glancing around my house, and shrug. “I can get started, but until I know how big the next place will be, I’m not really sure how much to pack and what to start selling.”

Lora rattles negatively. “The unit you will be assigned will consist of a receiving room, kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom. It will be rectangular, approximately seven meters wide and thirty meters deep. You should pack what you need first, then what you want, and everything else you may leave here for redistribution or recycling.”

Beyonce’s song, Irreplaceable, starts rolling through my head as I look around my place. I mean, all of my stuff will definitely require more than a box, but as I look around and start cataloging what I want and what I need, I discover that I can live without more than a few things currently in my eyeline. “That’s reasonable. The thing is, I lost my job when you guys invaded, so I need to sell some of this stuff to afford groceries, you know?”

Lora rattles negatively again. “The human propensity toward greed requires the eradication of currency. Once we have built the infrastructure, we will ensure no human ever lacks resources for their survival, and we will reorganize the way you trade for nonessential items so that they are available through contribution credit.”

The finance bros are not going to enjoy this little change in the economy, but it turns out, I don’t actually care about the finance bros. “Nice. If I get a choice, can I not be in customer service? I don’t mind being in service, but I just really hate interacting with people.”

Lora’s smile turns indulgent, I swear, even if the fangs are still a little terrifying. “I believe that can be arranged.”

I let out a breath, brace myself, and sit up, moving to stand. “Alright, let’s start packing.”

Lora helps me stabilize as I get my feet under me, and then a swarm of little flying drones appear right in front of me. “These are for the items that you need. Attach them to the item you need and they will move it when you receive your housing assignment. I will assign different… drones—there is that word again.” This time he’s more amused than disgusted. “I will assign different drones for items you want but do not need, and then other drones for items that you will leave.”

Well, that’s convenient. No boxes. I think I would have surrendered the planet to anyone who promised no boxes for moving. This is the pinnacle of technology. I can’t even conceive of needing anything beyond this one thing. “I can work with this.”

Happily.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Lora: Please go look at your television right now.

I’ve already “packed” it up, but since it’s still plugged in and turned on to the stream of the ScaryDarkAlienVampire who’s working today (it’s back to being the old, scraggly one with the bad hair), I look at the television, and as soon as I do, the ticker that’s been announcing that Earth is now under guardianship changes to something a lot more personal.

Confirmed. Appointment for Oliver Teakwood at 09:25 June 20th with Doctor RageAbleNeutralDominantYearn. Please report to the medical center in your ward for your appointment.

I have an appointment with an alien vampire doctor tomorrow. It’s been a week since they showed up, and I’ve already got an appointment with a doctor. I didn’t even know I needed one.

Me: Why do I need to go see a doctor, and will they mind me calling them Doctor RANDY instead of RageAbleNeutralDominantYearn?

Lora: We are testing the suitability of using in-home televisions to deliver personalized announcements, and because I drank from you, I thought it would be prudent to have one of our physicians examine you for possible side effects from the fluid exchange.

Me: Unless you’re planning to put a TV in every home in the world, it’s only going to be effective for a percentage of the population. I don’t like getting my personal news this way, but there will be some people who enjoy it.

Also me: You didn’t answer the question about RANDY.

Lora: I am waiting on a response from RageAbleNeutralDominantYearn.

Also Lora: Look at your TV again.

On the screen is a question: Enable notifications on this device: Yes or No? Speak your answer.

“No.” Alien tech merging with human tech is weird, right?

Another message pops up: State your preferred device.

“Phone.” Because why not?

My phone buzzes in my hand, and on the screen is a notification from the system: Notifications enabled for ScaryDarkAlienVampire Imperium.

Another notification pops up, which is a repetition of the first one about the doctor appointment.

I text Lora: This works for me. It’s weird that I had to speak my answers to a TV.