. . . of a Future President

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For Mageblood, who asked me to write Dexter showing the Professor his laboratory for the first time.

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"So, you really do have a nuclear reactor."

"I'm still surprised you don't."

"Townsville's regulatory board frowns on it."

"That's too bad. I hooked the whole house up to this five years ago. We haven't had a power bill since."

"Nice."

Dexter shrugged. "I needed an increase in my allowance."

Professor Utonium smiled, shaking his head as he stepped away from the compact power plant. Now that he knew Dexter better, he was past being dumbfounded by anything this child did. Secret entrance to a giant underground laboratory behind the bookcase in his bedroom? Check. Nuclear reactor in the basement? Check. Giant robots? Lasers? AI computer with a snarky sense of humor and a protective streak? Check, check, check.

"You built all of this?" Utonium confirmed, taking in the sleek and silvery design of the space and the specialized machines the functions of which he could only guess.

"I was compelled. Mom wouldn't let me use a blowtorch in my bedroom."

"I can't imagine her not wanting her four-year-old to play with open flames."

"I don't get it either. Come, I'll show you the Null-Void prototype."

It was evident that Dexter could barely contain himself as he escorted the Professor around the small kingdom he had carved out for himself. Utonium could relate – it had been a relief the whole summer to have a fellow scientist around the house, one who understood his humor and conversation. It took almost half an hour to reach the Null-Void – Dexter was constantly getting side-tracked by this invention or that. The Megabot prototype was worth a side-tour, seeing as how it was the reason they had met at all.

They were interrupted briefly when Buttercup – who with her sisters had been zooming around the space with abandon to rival DeeDee's – flew up and exclaimed,

"You have a wind tunnel!"

"Don't all fifth-graders?" Dexter countered.

She didn't even nibble at the bait. "Can we try it out?"

Dexter blinked, realizing her meaning. They wanted to fly against the force of the wind. He gestured. "Fine with me."

"Careful," warned the Professor, indulging his daughters.

"You got it, Daddy-o." She gave an uncharacteristic squeak, and as she joined her sisters they could hear her call, "They said yes! Crank 'er up, DeeDee!"

Dexter smiled, clearly pleased to have made the Powerpuffs happy, and returned to the Null-Void.

"Those are the earlier models," said Dexter, pointing to a row of progressively improved guns. The finished laser was sized somewhere between a large handgun and a rifle, with an oversized barrel and several controls built into the frame.

"May I?" asked Utonium, reaching for it.

Dexter waved him on. "Please."

As he lifted the gun, the Professor noticed two more lasers of completely different designs on a nearby workbench and paused. He recognized the crude gun Harold Smith had threatened them with by the electrical cord. The other was gold-plated and engraved and could only have belonged to Princess Morebucks.

"Dexter . . . "

Only slightly contrite, Dexter quickly said, "They weren't using them."

Deciding it wasn't his concern and wanting to avoid a headache, the Professor returned his attention to the stunning new technology he had agreed to finance. He was very aware of Dexter watching him, gauging his reaction. Like everything else about Dexter, the outside shell of the gun was deceptively simple, but the inner workings were devilishly complex.

"It's not as heavy as I thought it would be." He pointed it at the floor, looking down the sight.

"I anticipate it will be even lighter and more compact by the Mark IV or V stage and Professor, do you really have a hundred-thousand dollars lying about that you can just hand over like this?"

He smiled, feeling the balance and grip and marveling at how easy it was to handle as he answered. "Actually, I've got a lot more than that, so if the hundred thousand runs out, let me know. I just got a nice settlement from a slander and libel case against Providence. I can't think of anything I'd rather do with the money than show them up."

For a moment Dexter gaped at him, recognizing the name of the quasi-military organization tasked with controlling EVOs. Utonium caught the look and handed the Null-Void back. "I'll tell you all about it the next time we're together. It's better over ice cream. And this, young man, is remarkable. This whole place is remarkable. Almost as remarkable as you."

Very nearly glowing under such praise, Dexter carefully returned the Null-Void to its rack. He took a moment to fix his gloves and straighten his glasses, the Boy Genius equivalent of hugging himself and wriggling in excitement. Together they slowly walked deeper into the lab, toward the wind tunnel. They could hear Bubbles' squeals and shouts of encouragement from the other girls over the hum of machinery. Content with the world, the Professor enjoyed the sounds, the setting, and his companion, looking down at the eleven-year-old boy with glasses and lab coat and bright red hair crowned by a cowlick. Dexter walked with his hands clasped behind him, looking as smug and happy as Utonium had ever seen him. It was a complete change from the Dexter's crushing depression of the weekend past, and the Professor was relieved and reassured that his friend would be all right.

"So . . . now that I'm going to be president, what exactly am I the president of?"

"My company," said Dexter simply, then called, "Computress! Download a copy of the latest version of my business plan for the Professor."

"Right away, Dexter," the computer replied, her voice infused with so much enthusiasm that Dexter frowned in surprise.

"So, you've got a plan, you've got a product, you've got financing and employees – have you got a name?"

"Ehh," Dexter groused, which was answer enough.

"No name? I figured that would be the first thing you'd come up with."

"Everything I think up is too long. I need something short and snappy."

"Like you?"

"Shorter. Why don't you name it? You're good at that."

"Don't let Buttercup hear you say that. Name it after yourself."

"Oh, sure: Dexter's Laboratory, Inc."

"That's not so bad."

"Pfft. I can hear Mandark's screams already. Tell you what, name the company for me and I'll double your salary."

"Two whole bucks? Wow. How can I say no?"

"So, you've chosen to accept your assignment. Good luck, President Utonium."

He hummed thoughtfully for effect. "Well, if Dexter's Laboratory is too long, call it DexLabs."

"DexLabs?" he echoed, trying it out. He paused to mull it over. "DexLabs."

Pleased and full of himself, Utonium pointed in mock firmness. "You said you'd double my salary if I named it for you."

The entirety of their conversation caught up with Dexter and he sputtered, "Really? Did you just name my company with a dad joke?"

"Ah! Gotcha! I just named your company."

Dexter stared, slack-jawed. He clapped his palm to his head. "I can't believe I fell for it twice."

"In a row," the Professor pointed out cheerfully.

Unable to contain himself any longer, Dexter stepped over and wrapped Professor Utonium in a tight hug. Delighted beyond words, Dexter let out a small breath that grew and spread until he and the Professor were hugging and laughing out loud in the middle of the laboratory. They went on for so long that DeeDee and the Powerpuff Girls noticed and came to see.

"Dexter, what's so funny?" asked DeeDee, wanting in on the joke.

Still laughing, Dexter beamed at his sisters and said,

"DexLabs."