Rain slapped rhythmically against my basement window as the clock quietly clicked to 3:07 a.m. I lay under my blankets, still as the grave, waiting for that familiar hum behind my eyes. Last night's download had been pure robotics—motors, gears, flight dynamics. Tonight, I was going to get electronics and embedded systems. My inner geek was doing cartwheels.
I closed my eyes and let the surge roll in. First came schematics: voltage regulators and switch-mode converters as vivid as street signs. I saw copper pours and trace widths laid out in my mind: 0.3 mm for high-current lines, 0.15 mm for signals, decoupling capacitors nestled millimeters from every IC power pin. I felt capacitors and inductors resonate in my head, supplying smooth power.
Then the protocols—my neurons chattered in binary: "Clock… data… ACK… NACK… start… stop… repeat." SPI, I²C, UART, CAN bus; each bus's timing slapped into place like synchronized swimmers. And firmware… oh, the firmware. Interrupt vectors, ring buffers, DMA engines pumping ADC samples straight into memory with zero CPU overhead. My brain was a living datasheet.
I inhaled sharply, bolted upright, and stared at my desk lamp's power cord as though it were a venomous snake- I could probably turn it into one if I'd want to. I swung my legs off the bed, landing with uncanny balance, and peered at my hands. They moved with the confidence of someone who could ride a unicycle on a tightrope blindfolded.
There was no time to marvel. I needed to see if this would work.
A Breakfast That Tasted Like Multimeters
By 6:30 a.m., I barreled into the kitchen. Aunt Lulu flipped pancakes without missing a beat; Uncle David spooned coffee into his mug.
"Morning, Ry," Aunt Lulu said, stacking pancakes on my plate.
"Morning," I mumbled, eyeing the syrup. I poured it on in one fluid motion—four drizzles, like an artist. Then I paused. Four? Five? I realized my brain was already optimizing the flapjack-to-syrup surface area ratio.
I shoved a forkful into my mouth. "Delicious," I lied. ("Needs more butter," my upgraded palate whispered.)
Uncle David peered at me. "You look charged today."
I gave him my best poker smile. "Must be the coffee grid."
They shrugged and went back to their own breakfasts. They had no idea I was digesting gigabytes of electronics know-how instead of maple syrup.
The GhostNode Brand Takes Shape
School began in a blur of lockers and hallway gossip. But at lunch, I escaped to the computer lab—my unofficial "marketing suite." I logged into the burner email: [email protected].
GhostNode. The name had popped into my head last night: ghost for invisibility, node for network. I opened a minimalist HTML template and knocked out a one-page site: a dark background, a silver ghost-trace logo sitting on top of a faint propeller graphic, and three lines of text:
GhostNode
Discreet Drone Recon & Embedded Solutions
Under that, I typed a brief blurb:
Offering high-resolution aerial photography, roof inspections, and creative videography. Confidential, affordable, and no face-to-face needed.
I bought ghostnode.tech for thirty bucks (thank you, student discount venues), and pointed it at the new page. Then I designed a simple business card in GIMP—matte black stock, silver-foil ghost logo, and my email address.
To get the word out, I drafted a quick ad:
Need real-estate photos?
GhostNode drones provide discreet roof and yard imaging—no awkward ladders, no questions asked. Email [email protected]
I posted that ad on three local community bulletin boards and a couple of Facebook groups (all under an alias). Then I printed forty business cards to slip under windshield wipers after school.
Ned walked in at exactly the wrong moment.
"Ry, what's that?" he asked, peering at my screen.
"Uh—just a group project," I said, gulping.
He shrugged and went back to his Sudoku app. Perfect. No suspicion. Maybe…..I hope so at least.
Lockers, Ned, and Flash—Oh My!
The final bell rang, and hallways erupted into a brawl of backpacks, chatter and hormone. I headed for my locker, business cards clutched in hand. Ned Leeds was already at mine, twisting a Rubik's Cube with one hand and texting with the other.
"Did you see my CAD files?" he asked without looking up.
He glanced at my hand. "GhostNode? What's that?"
"Side project," I said, locking my combo. "Just some tinkering." Smooth Ryan, real smooth.
He looked unsurely at the card. "Uh…..it's cool."
I nodded. "Right!"
He grinned, slipping the card into his pocket. "Nice. I'll tell Ms. Jacobs you're branching out."
Ms. Jacobs would never make the connection—her students pitched half-baked ideas all the time but Ned had seen the card. I really need to be more careful.
Before I could breathe a sigh of relief, Flash Thompson swaggered over. His grin was less friendly.
"Heard you are the new hot-shot of the robotics club."
I smiled. "I wouldn't risk it."
He smirked. "Don't get too cocky, Carter."
He pivoted and left. My stomach churned. Flash's dad owned a security firm. If he connected the dots… well, I'd worry about that tomorrow.
Robotics Club: Mentor in the Making
At 3:15 p.m., I slipped into the robotics lab. Ms. Jacobs was already arranging components on the workbench. Last year's chassis lay in pieces behind us.
"Ryan," she said, "did you have a circuit diagram you wanted to share?"
I sank into the lead role. "Yeah. I re-designed the power distribution so we can get cleaner voltage to the motors." I tapped my laptop and projected a block diagram: a dedicated power-distribution IC, per-channel current sensors, decoupled logic ground, ferrite beads for EMI suppression.
She glanced around at Maya, Darnell, and the others, all staring wide-eyed. "That's… professional level."
I shrugged. "Just some online research."
We broke into teams: Maya and Darnell on soldering, Mrinal on wiring, and me debugging in real time. I coached them gently, letting them own each step. By 4:45, the first breadboard prototype blinked to life, LED fault indicators dancing in sequence.
"Look at that!" Ms. Jacobs crowed. "We might actually win something this year."
I grinned, genuinely proud. My basement wasn't the only place where innovation sparked.
Evening's Anonymous Recon
By 6:30 p.m., I was crouched behind a hedge in the alley beside Marisol's house—the first real GhostNode client. She'd emailed me this morning about a cracked roof tile leaking water. I unzipped Scrappy V2.1 from its backpack case and checked my FPV goggles.
The little drone whirred to life, motors spinning in perfect synchrony. It lifted, hovered for a moment, and then I guided it up to the roofline. On my screen, I saw exactly what I needed: two shifted tiles and a small pool of water near the vent. I circled for a panorama shot, then executed a gentle landing on the driveway.
From my hiding spot, I attached a USB drive to Scrappy's belly with a magnet. Then I tapped the launch: the drone rose, flew to a small landing pad I'd left on the porch, and dropped the USB into a labeled envelope. The entire operation took less than ten minutes—and Marisol never saw me.
Anonymous drop-off accomplished. I gave Scrappy one last salute before scooping her back up. Another $40 in my basement fund, and an entirely faceless delivery.
Late-Night Tinkering & Reflection
Back home around 8:15 p.m., I hauled Scrappy into the basement lab. I snapped her open and examined the footage drive. Crystal-clear resolution, just a few frames of static as she dropped the USB. Imperfect. Needs improvement.
I settled at my workbench, framed by tool silhouettes, and wrote in my notebook:
Day 3 – Charge #2: Electronics & Embedded Systems
Mastery: Completed.
Scrappy V2.1 Build
– Custom power-distribution PCB, four current channels
– HD camera, 2.4 GHz encrypted feed
– 2000 mAh Li-ion pack, 20 min flight time
GhostNode Launch
– Domain: ghostnode.tech (live)
– Posted 40 fliers & cards
– Email inquiries: 2 → Completed Marisol's porch job ($40). Pending Felix's roof job ($50)
Social Notes:
– Ned: possible leak & collaborator
– Flash: potential leak—avoid direct contact
– Betty: AV friend; possible promo on student news
– Ms. Jacobs: supports tech; maintain plausible deniability
MCU Public Knowledge:
– Iron Man: Tony Stark revealed '08, labs in NYC
– Hulk: unconfirmed '11 Harlem gamma incident
– No classified access—staying under government radar
Next Charge Options:
Computer Programming (AI/autonomy) Operational Security/tradecraft Mechanical CAD & rapid prototyping
Goals for Day 4:
– Choose next charge before midnight
– Soundproof basement corner (blankets, foam, old carpet)
– Draft simple waypoint-navigation code
I closed the notebook and stretched. Two nights into high-school, two charges of tech wizardry, and GhostNode was online. My basement bulb glowed softly, electrons running through it same way ideas ran in my head.
Sleep, Briefly, Before Charge #3
I padded upstairs and showered—washing away solder-flux residue and the lingering adrenaline. My reflection in the mirror showed sunken eyes and a large goofy grin. I tossed my towel aside and flopped into bed by 10:30 p.m.
As I drifted off, images of circuits turned to code: lines of C constructing an autopilot, pseudo-GPS coordinates, simple obstacle punches. Tomorrow, I'd write the first firmware that let Scrappy navigate on its own.
But for now, I watched the stars through my window. Raising my hand trying to grasp the unseen. If even a scrawny nerd like me can dream.
Then one day I will go beyond the Beyonders themselves, one charge at a time.
And just like that, the night claimed me
This is Ryan Carter signing out.
End of Day 3.