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🕑 Added 2025-04-12 07:45:53 +0000 UTCThe Supreme State of Science
Chapter 1 - My Name is Jimmy Neutron
I was born on February 28, 1979, into an entirely ordinary family, in the equally ordinary town of Retroville, United States. The universe, however, seemed to have other plans from the very first day. As I entered the world, a cat, yes, a street cat, decided to give birth to seven adorable but noisy kittens right in our backyard. My father, superstitious and prone to believing in things based on what mattered to him, quickly saw it as a sign. Seven cats, seven bright futures… Or seven problems, depending on how you look at it.
No one suspected that, just four years later, that feline good luck would vanish as quickly as a poorly made formula. One tragedy after another began to hit our door, as if life had decided to practice with me.
In 1990, my grandfather, Daniel Neutron, died in a "car accident," or at least that's the official version... Courtesy of mom, who continued treating me like a child despite my intelligence. But let’s be realistic: he was a soldier, and soldiers don’t usually die from braking poorly on a curve. Most likely, he died during some classified mission, the kind that ends up forgotten for convenience. But of course, who wants a twelve-year-old boy questioning family stories, right?
Now, back to my father, Hugh Beaumont Neutron, he’s as American as a cheeseburger with double cheese, while mom, Judith Honey Neutron, although born here, always had a more... Let’s say, international air. But mentioning that foreign air at home was an invitation to a silent punishment: bed before nine. And believe me, a genius needs more hours awake. Ideas don’t cook well if you go to sleep before the sun.
But well, I’ve learned to deal with those things. After all, I’m a child genius. Yes, I know, it sounds pretentious. But when you have an IQ of 242 and can build a particle accelerator with things from the garage, I think you can afford that luxury.
At this point, for those of you visualizing me right now as some kind of miniature superhero, you can relax. I’m just a kid with fair skin, blue eyes, a forehead that everyone insists is “big,” and a cowlick in my hair that has defied the laws of hairstyling since day one.
I used to enjoy solving problems in the city… Though some adults would say that my “solutions” brought more chaos than help. What an injustice.
But all of that ended. It all became a thing of the past once my brilliant parents came up with the idea of the century: moving to Texas.
Great.
What kind of short circuit happened in my parents' brains for them to suddenly decide that moving was a great idea?
The worst part is that this question has no logical answer. And if there’s anything that frustrates me more than slow innovations in current technology, it’s the lack of logic.
Sometimes I think, though I try not to think about it too often, that the problem is parents in general. Once they have children, their brains go into “protective beast mode” and they stop thinking clearly. It’s like the parental instinct comes with a mandatory clause for eternal boredom.
I, of course, have my own statistical theories on the subject. Pretty solid, if you ask me. But that’s for another chapter.
After my grandfather's death (which, remember, is still shrouded in a veil of suspicion), my parents assured me that “we needed a fresh start.” And what was their brilliant solution? Moving to a forgotten corner of civilization called Medford, in Galveston, Texas. A place so remote that even the post office pigeons avoided it.
Yes, even before stepping foot there, I already hated it.
I still can’t figure out how the death of a grandfather leads directly to the decision to move to a town where the only signs of life are cows and rusty mailboxes. And maybe I’ll never understand it… Partly because I’m not interested in wasting my valuable time trying to. The truth is, as long as I don’t need my parents, I prefer not to interact with them.
Minimal interaction, maximum efficiency.
I know that doesn’t make me the model son. I accept it. But you know what? I’m also the only kid who can build a functional satellite with recycled parts and a toaster. So my parents should feel pretty lucky to have me as their son. Seriously.
Now, if we at least moved to a ranch with enough space for my experiments, I could tolerate it. But no. We’re going to a town so bland that even the maps don’t bother to update their routes. Even Alaska sounds more exciting for a movie buff... And that’s saying a lot.
So yes, I feel upset, confused, and terribly bored. And although my parents know I feel this way, mom, who’s the more cunning of the parental duo, decided to apply her favorite strategy: elegantly ignoring me.
My favorite method for avoiding arguments is simply not talking. Though, for strictly technical reasons, I eventually had to communicate with them to find out what the new house would be like… Or more specifically, to demand the space where I would set up my new invention workshop.
But even geniuses have pride.
And if there’s one thing I have as developed as my ability to decode alien languages, it’s my sense of dignity.
"So no, I wasn’t going to be the one to take the first step. I’d rather die than accept defeat." Jimmy thought, as he stopped writing the introduction to his book when he realized he was getting carried away by his emotions.
…
The RV they were traveling in was Hugh’s last great idea to reduce the stress of his only son. According to him, a few days on the road, away from the noise of the world and surrounded by nature, would be the perfect remedy to calm his nerves… Or at least to get Jimmy to stop looking at everything with that expression of perpetual disillusionment.
But after several days on the road, the results were, to say the least, disappointing.
Hugh, still clinging to an optimism that bordered on naive, forced a smile at his wife and asked, "Darling, how’s the trip going?"
Judith set her drink aside, looked at him without even trying to hide her honesty, and replied, "I would have enjoyed it much more if it had been just you and me. It probably would have even been romantic."
Behind them, oblivious or pretending to be, Jimmy was assembling a gear system with precision. He was focused on adjusting some joints for his next robot, ignoring his parents as if they were background noise.
"You're not helping…" Hugh murmured, very nervous about his wife’s coldness.
Judith sighed. She knew both of them well: her husband and her son. And she knew exactly why things were the way they were. She calmly stood up, walked over to the table where Jimmy was working with parts that could intimidate any professional engineer, and said in a clear tone, "Alright, I’ll be direct. We’re moving because you left the whole town without water for a week."
Jimmy didn’t even blink in confusion and quickly said, "I was just trying to purify it. Make it perfect for everyone."
"The water is already perfect," Hugh intervened, still feeling the helplessness from the scandal he had to face with angry neighbors and empty buckets. "There was no need to improve it."
"Perfect enough to be contaminated..." Jimmy replied, not taking his eyes off his creation.
Judith crossed her arms. She wasn’t angry, at least not entirely. In fact, she felt a strange pride in her son's brilliant mind. But as a mother, she knew, she knew that a compliment at the wrong moment was like handing dynamite to someone with a lighter.
"We know your inventions aim to improve people's lives," Judith paused, thinking about the best words her son needed, and after a moment, she said, "But you have to understand something important, Jimmy: most people aren’t ready to change their routine, not even for a real benefit. It's hard for them. And you… You can’t force progress on them."
Deep down, she knew that if they didn’t stop him now, one day Jimmy wouldn’t just purify the water. He might end up redesigning the solar system. Or building something that could make Texas disappear.
And it wasn’t a metaphor. Texas would literally disappear.
They had already received a formal warning from the government. It wasn’t a threat, but it was one of those letters filled with technical jargon and enough diplomatic language to say: "Please keep your son away from civilization before he causes another disaster."
So, as if they were fugitives from a low-budget indie movie, the three were headed to a town where Jimmy’s talent wouldn’t attract as much attention. Or at least, that was the hope.
"Are you saying it’s my fault we’re being kept away from my friends, the city, my home?" Jimmy asked, finally lifting his head to face his mother.
Judith, still holding onto some patience, thought for a few seconds before answering with her usual honesty. "That’s correct. A lot of people hated us. And since they don’t appreciate your inventions, your father and I decided to change the scenery."
Jimmy’s gaze wavered for a moment. That small emotional crack that appeared when logic couldn’t protect him.
"Alright. I’ll stop now..."
"It’s not about that, son. You can’t stop being who you are." Hugh intervened with a mix of concern and tenderness. "But you can learn to control it."
Hugh didn’t want to see his son, so bright and promising, locked in a wooden box, literally or figuratively, because of other people's fear. But sometimes, the world wasn’t ready for those who moved faster than it did.
Jimmy settled into his seat, thoughtful. The silence lasted just long enough before he said firmly:
"I’ve decided. I’ll create a private company. Only investors, businesspeople, or people with enough money will be able to access my inventions."
That sentence didn’t sound like an improvised idea. It was a decision. If regular people didn’t appreciate his brilliance, then only the elite would enjoy the privilege. Now they would pay for what used to be offered for free.
In his mind, of course, the timelines had just split. A new route was unfolding. And on that route, Jimmy already saw the beginning of his empire. Not one of buildings and offices, but of ideas. Ideas so powerful they would change the world. With or without permission.
Judith returned to the passenger seat in silence.
"Did it work?" Hugh asked, trying to read the atmosphere.
Judith looked at her son through the rearview mirror. She observed him, recognizing that intense gaze she had known since he was three years old and had built a gravity trap in the kitchen. "I think so… But not in the way you think."
"Eh?"
Before Hugh could continue the conversation, Judith handed him another donut and said, "Focus on the road and your donut maker."
"Sounds good to me, dear." Hugh replied, taking the sweet as if it were a temporary truce before the imminent technological revolution brewing in the back of the RV.
