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Robot Riot! Page 6


  Roberta looked stunned—completely baffled—by Jenny’s behaviour.

  ‘Maybe Henry’s right about you!’ hissed Jenny. ‘Maybe you’re not just different . . . maybe you really are a—’

  I ran to her and put my hand over her mouth. ‘That’s enough, Jenny,’ I said.

  ‘No it’s not,’ said Roberta, her eyes steely grey. ‘Let her finish, Henry!’

  Jenny tried her best to finish, but I managed to muffle the word I knew she was dying to throw at Roberta.

  I began dragging Jenny out of the classroom as quickly as I could. ‘She’s upset,’ I said to Roberta. ‘She doesn’t know what she’s saying!’

  ‘I think she would if you’d take your hand off her mouth,’ Roberta replied.

  ‘Are you all right, Jenny?’ I said, when I’d finally managed to drag her out of the room and down to the bottom of the steps.

  ‘No!’ she said, gasping for breath. ‘I’m not all right. And neither is Roberta. Not only is she super-strong, super-intelligent and all those things you said, she’s super-nice, too. But nobody’s nicer than me, Henry. Nobody human, that is.’

  ‘So you agree?’ I said. ‘You think she really is a robot?’

  Jenny nodded. ‘Exterminating us all is one thing, but if Roberta thinks that she can be nicer than me then she’s got another thing coming.’

  ‘Jenny,’ I said, ‘at the moment Roberta is nicer than you. You threw her bananas out the window, which wasn’t very nice.’

  Jenny put her hand to her mouth in horror as she suddenly realised what she had done. ‘Oh no!’ she said. ‘I did?’

  ‘I’m afraid so,’ I said. ‘I think you should go and get them for her and say sorry. We can’t afford for her to know that we’re on to her. We need to act like nothing is wrong.’

  ‘Of course!’ said Jenny. ‘I feel so awful . . . I think I owe you an apology, too.’

  ‘No, you don’t,’ I said. ‘You always give people the benefit of the doubt. It’s one of the nicest things about you. But at the moment it’s Roberta you need to apologise to. Think you can manage it?’

  Jenny gulped, closed her eyes and softened her face into a beautiful smile. ‘Of course,’ she said. ‘I’m Jenny Friendly! If I can’t do it, then nobody can!’

  As Jenny and I returned to the classroom with the bananas, Mr Brainfright came in and sat at his desk.

  ‘Well, I never!’ he said, looking up at Jenny. ‘Are these for me?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘But they’re not from me.’

  Mr Brainfright frowned. ‘They’re not?’ he said. ‘Then who are they from?’

  ‘Roberta,’ said Jenny, placing the bananas on Roberta’s desk. ‘I’m afraid we had a bit of an accident and, well, anyway . . . here they are. Sorry, Roberta.’

  ‘That’s quite okay, Jenny,’ she said sweetly. ‘Accidents happen.’

  ‘Very true words indeed,’ said Mr Brainfright. ‘Why, only this morning I accidentally mistook my jacket for my trousers, which is why I’m a little late. I put my legs into the sleeves and then couldn’t walk or even get them out again. It took me quite a while to sort myself out. Don’t you hate it when that happens?’

  Some of us laughed, others just looked at him curiously. He was probably joking, but you couldn’t always be sure with Mr Brainfright.

  Roberta got up and put the bananas on Mr Brainfright’s desk.

  ‘Well, thank you, Roberta!’ said Mr Brainfright, taking them from her. ‘That’s very thoughtful! I think that’s the nicest thing that anybody has ever done for me!’

  Poor Jenny.

  She was gripping the edge of her desk so hard that her knuckles were white. I was worried that she was going to launch herself across the classroom and tear Roberta’s metallic body to shreds.

  ‘Cool it, Jenny,’ I whispered. ‘Don’t do anything stupid. We’ll deal with it, but not right now, okay? For the moment I need you to stay nice.’

  Jenny looked at me and nodded, smiling stiffly. ‘I’m nice,’ she said through gritted teeth. ‘I’m really, really, really nice.’

  28

  Robot sandwiches

  We kept a close watch on Roberta for the rest of the morning, but she didn’t do anything suspicious. She just worked quietly and methodically. As quietly and methodically as a . . . well, you know what. Even Jenny Friendly knew by now, although I think she was still having trouble believing it.

  At lunch we were sitting in our usual spot in the yard. We watched Roberta walk out into the yard and sit down on a seat by herself to eat her lunch.

  ‘She’s all alone,’ said Jenny. ‘Should I go and invite her to have lunch with us?’

  ‘Are you kidding?’ I said. ‘After the way she out-niced you this morning?’

  ‘No, I suppose not,’ said Jenny. ‘I just hate seeing anybody all on their own.’

  ‘She won’t be lonely for long if she gets her way,’ said Gretel. ‘She and her robot pals will soon be running this place!’

  ‘Yikes!’ said Newton.

  ‘I said, if she gets her way, Newton,’ said Gretel. ‘If!’

  ‘She doesn’t seem like a robot, though,’ said Jenny.

  ‘Don’t be fooled,’ I said. ‘That’s exactly what she wants you to think.’

  ‘But she’s eating a sandwich,’ said Jenny. ‘That doesn’t seem like something a robot would do.’

  ‘It’s not a real sandwich,’ I said. ‘Roberta is a super-advanced, super-intelligent robot intent on concealing her true identity. She’s not going to sit there eating nuts and bolts and drinking oil like an ordinary robot. She’s disguised her robot fuel to look like a regular sandwich, but it’s really a robot sandwich. She’s smart . . . really smart.’

  Everybody nodded. Well, all except for Newton. ‘I’m frightened,’ he said. ‘I want to go home.’

  ‘But you can’t,’ said Gretel. ‘It’s only lunchtime.’

  ‘I still want to go home,’ said Newton. ‘It will be safer there.’

  ‘Only for a while,’ I said.

  ‘What do you mean?’ said Newton.

  ‘Exterminating everyone at Northwest Southeast Central School is only the beginning. Once Roberta and her robot army are finished with us, they’ll start on the whole world! You can run but you can’t hide, Newton. Better that we make a stand now rather than wait until it’s too late.’

  Newton gulped so loudly it sounded like he was trying to swallow a tennis ball.

  ‘Henry’s right,’ said Gretel. ‘We need to act now. The question is, how exactly do we act? What can we do to stop her?’

  ‘Before we can answer that question,’ I said, ‘we need to know exactly what Roberta is planning to do and when she’s planning to do it.’

  ‘Yeah, but how do we find that out?’ asked Jenny. ‘It’s not like we can just go and ask her.’

  ‘Have you checked her diary lately?’ said Jack. ‘She could have written another report. It may give us a clue.’

  ‘Of course!’ I said. ‘Why didn’t I think of that?’

  Jack smiled and shrugged. ‘I guess you’re not as smart as I am.’

  ‘Or as disrespectful of somebody else’s privacy,’ said Jenny. ‘You can’t just go around reading other people’s diaries whenever you feel like it.’

  ‘But she’s a robot!’ said Jack.

  ‘Even robots are entitled to privacy,’ said Jenny.

  ‘Not when they’re planning to take over the world, they’re not,’ I said.

  ‘My mother says two wrongs don’t make a right,’ said Jenny.

  ‘Really?’ I said. ‘What does your mother say about robots invading the world and exterminating all the humans . . . or, for that matter, about putting whole bunches of bananas onto a teacher’s desk?’

  Jenny thought for a moment and then shrugged. ‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘She’s never really said anything about those things . . . I’ll ask her tonight.’

  ‘We may not have that much time!’ I said. ‘I say we stay behind af
ter school and check her diary. All in favour raise your hands.’

  One by one each of us raised a hand.

  Even Newton.

  And, finally, even Jenny.

  Meanwhile, Roberta continued to eat her robot sandwiches, completely oblivious to the fact that her evil plans were about to be completely undone.

  29

  Reading Roberta’s diary

  That afternoon we waited until everyone had left the classroom and then one by one we each snuck back in.

  It was easier than I’d thought it was going to be.

  Roberta had left her diary right on top of her desk.

  We put Newton at the door as lookout. The rest of the gang crowded around me as I picked up Roberta’s diary and opened it to Monday’s entry where she’d written her report.

  I tapped the page with my finger. ‘Look at this!’ I said.

  ‘No,’ said Jenny, turning her head away. ‘I can’t! I simply can’t look at somebody else’s diary!’

  ‘All right, then,’ I said, ‘I’ll read it to you. “My name is Robota Flywheel. I am a super-advanced, super-intelligent robot from the future . . .” ’

  Jenny put her fingers in her ears but even so she couldn’t block the sound of my voice completely. I could tell, because as I read, her eyes widened and she slowly took her fingers away from her ears. She moved over to the desk to look at what I was reading.

  ‘Henry,’ she gasped, ‘this is awful. But she does have lovely neat handwriting . . .’

  ‘JENNY!’ I said. ‘Get a grip! We’re not here to admire her handwriting—we’re here to find out when and how she’s planning to do away with us all!’

  ‘Sorry, Henry,’ said Jenny, who seemed to have forgotten her mother’s prohibition about diary-reading. ‘What do you think this means?’

  ‘What?’ I said.

  ‘Here,’ said Jenny, pointing. ‘She’s circled tomorrow’s date and written “ASSEMBLY” with three exclamation marks.’

  ‘Uh-oh,’ I said. ‘I’ll tell you what it means. It means that we’re in big trouble. She’s planning her robot attack for tomorrow’s assembly.’

  ‘I knew it!’ said Jack, slamming his fist into his hand. ‘I knew it all along!’

  ‘No you didn’t,’ I said. ‘The other day in the yard you were ready to form the Roberta Flywheel fan club.’

  ‘No, I wasn’t,’ said Jack. ‘I was just playing along with her so she wouldn’t know that I knew what she was up to.’

  ‘I thought her stick idea was really good, though,’ said Newton from the doorway. ‘And washing the tap handles actually works! I didn’t get one germ on me yesterday!’

  ‘That’s beside the point!’ I said. ‘I don’t care how innovative her ideas on yard-cleaning and hand-washing are: she’s an evil robot who’s out to destroy us all at assembly tomorrow morning! It’s here in black and white!’

  ‘Do you think she’ll do it with pointy sticks?’ said Newton, who had abandoned his lookout post and joined us at the desk. ‘With germs on them?’

  ‘I don’t know what she has in mind,’ I said. ‘But I think it will be worse than germy, pointy sticks. Much worse. And what are you doing here, anyway? You’re supposed to be our lookout. SO LOOK OUT!’

  ‘Sorry, Henry,’ said Newton. ‘But I got scared over there all by myself.’

  ‘You shouldn’t yell at him like that, Henry,’ said Jenny. ‘He’s scared!’

  ‘Well so am I!’ I said.

  And a few seconds later I was terrified.

  Because we heard a noise at the classroom door.

  We looked up guiltily.

  It was Roberta.

  30

  Sprung!

  ‘What are you doing?’ said Roberta. ‘Why are you all standing around my desk? Are you reading my diary?’

  ‘NO!’ I said, slamming it shut. ‘I found it on the floor and opened it to see who it belonged to . . . I was just putting it back.’

  ‘Yes, that’s right,’ said Jenny, her face going bright red. ‘H . . . H . . . Henry was just putting it back.’ She wasn’t very good at lying. In fact, this was probably her first-ever attempt.

  ‘Yep, that’s what happened, all right,’ said Jack. ‘Exactly what they said.’

  Gretel murmured her agreement.

  Newton just nodded in terror.

  Roberta looked at us in a way that suggested she didn’t believe a word we were saying.

  She started walking towards us.

  We all backed away slowly.

  ‘You’re saying one thing to me,’ said Roberta, ‘but your body language is suggesting something else completely. I think you read it. You know, don’t you?’

  ‘Um,’ I said, ‘no . . . I don’t know anything about it . . . I mean, if there was anything to know . . . which there isn’t, not that I would know whether there is or there isn’t anything to know—or not know—anything about!’

  ‘I think you do know,’ said Roberta quietly. ‘And I’d prefer it if you didn’t tell anyone. It’s going to be hard enough as it is, but if everyone knows beforehand, that will make it even harder for me.’

  We all looked at one another in horror.

  ‘You’ve got to understand,’ said Roberta. ‘I’m doing my best to try and fit in.’

  ‘How will doing what you’re planning to do help you to fit in?’ said Jenny.

  ‘It wasn’t my idea,’ said Roberta. ‘I’m just going along with it.’

  ‘Well . . . if that’s how you feel then maybe you shouldn’t do it,’ stammered Jenny.

  ‘I’ve thought about that, believe me,’ said Roberta, ‘but I said I would and I will. There’s no turning back. All I’m asking is please don’t tell anyone else.’

  She stepped towards us.

  We stepped back.

  ‘Please!’ said Roberta. ‘Promise?’

  ‘Sure!’ I said. ‘We won’t tell anyone, will we, guys?’

  ‘NO,’ said Jenny, a little too loudly and blushing even brighter red than before.

  ‘Absolutely,’ said Gretel. ‘You can count on us.’

  ‘Our lips are sealed,’ said Jack.

  ‘Do you promise?’ said Roberta, coming even closer. ‘Really?’

  We were backing away fast now, nodding emphatically.

  I felt the back of my knees touch the window sill. I had a brilliant idea. ‘Jump!’ I said.

  We all turned and jumped.

  Straight out the window!

  Then we sprang up and ran.

  For our lives.

  31

  Grant Gadget to the rescue

  We ran to the school gate and stopped there to catch our breath.

  ‘Great,’ said Gretel. ‘So now she knows that we know. We’re going to have to act fast. We need a plan. Any ideas?’

  Nobody said anything.

  ‘There’s nothing we can do,’ said Newton. ‘She’s more advanced than us. She’s more intelligent than us. She’s stronger than us. There’s no way we can fight a super-advanced, super-intelligent robot from the future!’

  ‘Perhaps there is,’ said Jenny, narrowing her eyes. ‘My mother says that sometimes you need to fight fire with fire.’

  ‘I’m scared of fire,’ muttered Newton.

  ‘No, it means fight like with like,’ Jenny explained. ‘We’re fighting a robot so we need a robot to help us.’

  ‘Great idea, Jenny,’ said Gretel. ‘But where are we going to get a robot from?’

  ‘Grant Gadget, of course!’ I said.

  ‘No,’ groaned Jack. ‘Not Grant. Anyone but Grant! We need a robot that actually works.’

  ‘Don’t be mean, Jack,’ said Jenny. ‘I think Grant is really clever.’

  ‘Yeah,’ I said, ‘plus he’s the only person I can think of who may be able to help. Does anybody have a better idea?’

  ‘No, but Grant’s inventions never work,’ said Jack.

  ‘That’s not true,’ said Jenny. ‘They work sometimes.’

  ‘Yeah,’ sa
id Jack. ‘And then they blow up!’

  ‘They don’t always blow up,’ said Jenny.

  ‘You’re right,’ said Jack. ‘Sometimes smoke comes out of them and they emit a high-pitched noise . . . and then they blow up.’

  ‘Fair point,’ I said. ‘But the question is do you have a better idea?’

  Jack thought for a minute. Then shrugged. ‘No.’

  We ran to Grant’s house as fast as we could.

  When we got there his mother sent us out the back to Mr Gadget’s workshop.

  Grant was pretty surprised to see us but nowhere near as surprised as he was once we’d told him what we’d discovered.

  ‘So,’ I said, once we’d finished filling him in, ‘can you build a robot capable of stopping Roberta?’

  ‘I’m pretty sure I could,’ said Grant. ‘As a matter of fact, my dad has been doing some very interesting work on AI lately. And I’ve been helping him with it.’

  ‘What does AI mean?’ asked Newton. ‘It sounds scary.’

  ‘It means Artificial Intelligence,’ Grant explained. ‘As in robots. Dad’s away at an AI conference at the moment, which is lucky because it means I can use his workshop to build whatever I want.’

  ‘So you really could build a robot?’ said Jenny. ‘That would be great.’

  ‘Yeah, fantastic,’ said Gretel.

  ‘Way to go, Grant,’ I said, clapping him on the back.

  ‘Yay! . . . Great!’ said Jack. But he was being sarcastic.

  ‘What sort of features would you like it to have?’ Grant said, ignoring Jack.

  ‘We can choose?’ asked Jenny excitedly. ‘Eye colour? Hair colour? That sort of thing?’

  ‘No,’ said Grant, rolling his eyes. ‘I meant what sort of robot do you want? There are lots of different types, you know. Household robots, nano-bots, marine-bots, fighting robots—’

  ‘A fighting robot!’ said Gretel.

  ‘Yeah. We definitely need a fighting robot!’ I said. ‘A robot-fighting robot.’

  Grant stroked his chin. ‘Let me get some details.’ He took a small pen and notepad out of his shirt pocket. ‘Now, let’s see . . . do you want it to have laser-beam eyes?’