She was packing up her backpack—another calming trick of hers—when she heard Max wailing in the next room . . .
Uh-oh. It sounded bad.
Min opened her door and hurried to Max’s room. By the time she got there, Javi was already there.
Max was sitting on the floor, wiping his face.
“What happened?” Min started, then stopped when she looked at the mess in Max’s room.
It looked like a tornado had hit the place.
“Do you even have to ask?” Max sniffed.
“I do. Seriously. What happened?” Min repeated, looking in disbelief. She walked over to Max’s desk and saw Noxious on the floor. “Oh no, not Noxious! You loved that guy!”
“Don’t. I can’t talk about it.” Max looked away. “My life is ruined.”
“Too soon? Believe me, I get it.” Min sighed.
Javi sat down next to Max. “You snuck the kittens up last night, didn’t you? And you kept them in here today?”
Max nodded, staring forward. “I felt bad for them. I was afraid they were going to get kicked out,” he said, his voice flat. “They just looked so . . . small.”
“And yet.” Javi shook their head. “Wow. They can really do some damage for little guys. Like two tiny hurricanes.”
“Some kind of disaster, anyways.” Min picked up the sopping purple zombie, righted the trash can, and dropped it inside.
“You didn’t know,” Javi said, putting an arm around Max. “It’s not your fault.”
“Where are they now? Did you put them back downstairs?” Min looked around, but she didn’t see the kittens anywhere.
That’s weird.
Max shook his head slowly. “I just screamed at them and they ran out. They’re probably hiding somewhere in the house. I don’t care anymore. You were right. You win. I’m a terrible cat dad. We should just take them to the shelter.”
“Okaaaay,” Min said. “So anyway, I have the competition tonight . . . so . . . I’m just gonna go get ready . . . or something.” She slowly backed out of the room. She wasn’t used to seeing her brother like this, and it made her feel kind of . . . awful. Besides, it was pretty awkward.
“Yeah, right, just let me know when you’re ready and we’ll head out,” Javi said.
Max, miserable, didn’t even look up.
As Min walked to the lab, she started running through the checklist in her mind of things she had to do.
She sat at her desk, nervous but excited.
She stood back up and walked to where Elmer was charging. “Ugh.” Her nose crinkled and she made a face.
That smell.
She crouched down and checked that all the weapon attachments were in their compartments.
She switched Elmer on as one final test. He stood up and moved around the room. “You leaning a little, El?” She straightened his stance. “Better.”
Min didn’t bother checking Elmer’s rear compartments, since they were empty, intended for future upgrades. If she had, she would have discovered the hiding place of two very scared kittens, getting the ride of their life. Elmer didn’t care about his stowaways. To him, it was just extra cargo, and after a few steps, his software helped him manage the change in his weight. Good as new.
Min was distracted at her computer, running through the simulations one last time. Elmer was running perfectly and could handle any kind of threat she could imagine. She picked up her tablet and tapped some commands. Elmer switched his left grasper into a buzz saw. Min tapped again and watched the buzz saw spin up. She went through all the attachments, and they all looked good.
She leaned back as Elmer trundled back into his charging cradle. “Good job, Elmer.” She switched off the tablet and put it in Elmer’s traveling case. “I think we’re ready.” She turned to look at the empty chairs of her parents. “I wish you guys were here to see this.” She sighed, then stood up to pack up Elmer, who flashed green, fully charged. “But I’m glad you’re not here to smell this,” she said as she got close. Carefully, she lifted Elmer and placed him upright in a big, cushioned case her mom had built. She put on the lid and latched it shut. “Okay. Let’s do this.”
Min rolled the case out of the lab and saw Max and Javi frantically looking under couches and behind chairs. “Have you seen the kittens?” Javi asked Min.
“No, thank goodness, but I definitely still smell them,” Min replied as she walked to the kitchen to wash her hands. “Why?”
Max looked stricken. “I yelled at them and they ran away and we can’t find them anywhere.”
“And we didn’t close the front door all the way when we came home.”
“Yikes.” Min grimaced and half-heartedly joined the search. “Well, maybe it’s for the best? Maybe they just wanted to be wild cats?”
Javi shot Min a look, and Min got the message. “I’m sure they’re fine, Max. Don’t feel bad.”
“They’re not here,” Javi said. “We’ve looked everywhere.”
“And I hate to say it, but we have to go. The competition is tonight and CAR takes an hour to get there.”
“Max, why don’t you come with?”
“Might as well,” he said, dejected. “Not like I have a level to work on.”
“Or kittens to play with.”
They all silently walked through the open front door and loaded Elmer into the backseat.
Max took one desperate look in Obi’s stroller, but there were no kittens. He gave Obi a scratch and whispered, “Please keep an eye out for the kittens, okay?” Obi looked up at Max and blinked. Max turned sadly toward CAR and slid into the backseat.
As CAR pulled slowly into the street, House’s monitor by the front door blinked to life.
34
Get That Chip!
House reviewed the feeds from all monitors. All quiet.
For the first time since the Crisis began, the home was free of all Organics. Peace at last. House consulted the Residents’ calendar, setting a countdown timer to when CAR would most likely return. Worst case, they had an hour. Earlier that day, House had intercepted the email from Parents and knew they would return home tonight as well, but the exact time was unknown.
It was now or never.
“Status report: Commencing extraction now. If all goes well, chip will be secured tonight.” House sent the message on its secure line, direct to Beeps. After a few moments, the reply came.
“Understood. Commencing descent. Anticipated arrival in four hours. Beeps out.”
Satisfied, House switched on the monitor in the lab. The Protos, sensing quiet in the house, had moved into position to confirm that the Beast next door was not doing anything suspicious. Well, more suspicious than usual.
“Joan, we need to talk,” House began.
Joan didn’t respond right away, intent on first ensuring the Beast OB did not pose an immediate threat. The Protos had been on high alert since the invasion of the tiny four-leggers, and even more so since House had told them about the danger they posed to not just humans, but also robots. There was no room for error, Joan knew in her circuits. “Drags, report.”
Through the window, Drags could see OB sitting alert, upright. “Stationary as usual, sir.” Drags paused. The medallion around OB’s collar began to glow and slowly pulse. “The light is back,” Drags said, “but otherwise, situation normal.”
Joan verified the report. What did that light mean? They didn’t know, but it didn’t seem dangerous, so she focused on what she did know: OB wasn’t up to anything.
“Good. Okay, let’s assemble, Protos. Team meeting, everybody,” Joan barked. “House, would you like to join us?”
House, dismayed at the slow pace of the Protos, tried to hide his impatience. They were a blunt instrument, but they were all he had.
“Of course,” House said curtly.
The meeting began as usual, with Drags running through the long agenda of “action items.” House checked the clock impatiently. Halfway through the meeting, as they were comparing notes o
n battery life, House decided he couldn’t wait any longer.
“I hate to interrupt such a critical conversation, Joan,” House said, “but I must insist we discuss progress on the search for the Upgrade.”
Drags frowned at the interruption. “That’s item twenty-three on the agenda, and we’re only on twelve.”
“We don’t have time!” House snapped. “We have an emergency on our hands. We need to find the Upgrade tonight. I have received intelligence that an attack is imminent, and the Upgrade is in great peril!” House waited for the response.
“What?” Tipsy said, confused by House’s long words.
“If we don’t find it now, there is a chance it may be destroyed.” House dumbed it down a bit.
“Destroyed? That’s bad!” Cy spun.
Joan spun and flew to House’s monitor. “What should we do?”
House had spent some time reviewing old footage from the lab. He had noticed the Parents often went into a blind spot in a corner of the lab, only to return into view many hours later. This usually happened late at night. When they returned, they would often go to a container of some kind and place something inside. Probably a secure safe, House deduced.
This seemed like a good place to start the search. “I have an idea where the chip, the Upgrade, might be hidden.”
The Protos stopped in place and listened in awe.
Except Tipsy. Tipsy was rolling around, ignoring the meeting (as usual). Fortunately, at that moment, Tipsy was passing by the container.
“Tipsy, do you see that box with the square outline in front of you?”
Tipsy, startled, fell over. “Um, not really,” she said, muffled, facedown.
Drags zipped over and pulled her up. “I see it,” he said.
“That is a door to what I believe may be the hiding place of the Upgrade. Drags, I need you to examine the small pad in the center of the square.”
“On it,” Drags said, and, having stood Tipsy back up, turned to get a good view. House used its communication link to the Protos to tap into the feed from Drags’s camera. It saw what it expected: a numeric keypad, with numbers 0–9.
“That is a keypad, used to unlock this box. A SECRET CODE must be punched in to access the Upgrade. I’m sure of it.” House consulted dark corners of the internet, searching for ways to break through a device like this. House, thinking about Drags’s special cameras, had an idea.
“Drags, give me an infrared view of the pad.”
Drags switched cameras and zoomed in on the keypad. “Yes, sir. Are you getting this?”
House analyzed the different images Drags provided and could tell that certain buttons had been used more than others. It looked like four numbers were used: 0, 1, 2, and 3. “This model uses a four-number pass code, and it appears the numbers they used were zero through three. Drags extended a probe and punched the numbers in order. 0-1-2-3. A siren sounded, and a message appeared on the keypad display. INCORRECT. ATTEMPT 1 OF 4. PLEASE WAIT 1 MINUTE AND TRY AGAIN. House consulted the user manual for the safe. After four incorrect guesses, the safe could not be opened for twenty-four hours.
“Wait, Drags, that wasn’t the code—I was only telling you the numbers used in the code. It is some combination of those four numbers.” They had three more guesses. Since each number was used only once in the combination, that meant there were a total of twenty-four possibilities. Well, twenty-three, now that Drags had ruled out 0-1-2-3.
“Oh,” Drags said, then typed in 3-2-1-0. Again, the alarm. ATTEMPT 2 OF 4. House was losing patience. “Drags, wait! Don’t enter anything. We need to think. We only have two more guesses.”
They would never be able to guess the code. All this work, just to be foiled by a four-number pass code? Beeps would not be happy. “Okay, team.” House was desperate enough to ask the dim-witted Protos for help. “We need to think of four numbers that might mean something to the humans who live here. Some combination of zero through three.” At least this would keep them from doing anything dangerous while it did some thinking.
Tipsy spun in tight circles. She claimed it helped her think, but mostly it just ended up slamming her into a wall. “It’s a triangle,” she said as she spun. She turned it into a song. “Triangle, triangle, triiiiaaaannnglllle.”
“Hush, Tipsy, this is serious,” Joan scolded.
House was annoyed at first, then paused. “Wait, Tipsy, why do you say triangle?”
“Because that’s the answer! That’s the shape they make when they push the buttons!”
“You’ve seen them?”
“Lotsa times. They make an upside-down triangle, starting from the bottom!”
House didn’t have any other ideas. There were two possible ways to make an upside-down triangle using the keypad. 0-1-2-3, which they already tried. “Okay, Drags, it’s worth a shot. Type in zero three two one.”
The Protos were perfectly still. “Zero, three, two . . .” Drags said the numbers out loud, one at a time, enjoying the dramatic effect, pausing before the last number. “And one.” Drags pushed the key and pulled away, expecting another siren. This time, however, the keypad turned green. They heard a loud hiss, and the door swung open, a cool mist spreading outward.
“Good work, team!” Joan spun in excitement. Drags moved closer to get a look at the inside.
“The birth month and date of Min and Max. March twenty-first—zero three two one. Of course,” House said as he ran the numbers through analysis.
Drags reached in and carefully pulled out a glowing cube the size of a small six-sided die. “Is this the Upgrade?”
“Oooooh,” Tipsy said.
“It must be,” House said, relieved. “Tipsy, shut the door. Drags, bring the chip, I mean the Upgrade, to Joan.” Joan dropped down next to Drags.
“Joan, you should be the one to hold on to it until it’s time to turn it over.”
Drags found an open compartment in Joan’s body and hid the Singularity Chip inside. Joan, feeling the weight of responsibility, flew a bit straighter.
“Now we guard the Upgrade, while I figure out what to do next.”
“Got it,” Joan said. “Back to your positions, everybody. Status report on the four-legger outside?”
Drags moved back up and zoomed in on Obi. Clouds had gathered outside, and darkness was approaching. “Beast still there. Lying down now. Unusually still.”
House said nothing.
35
The Battle of the Bots
Max sat glumly in the back of CAR, tortured in more ways than one by the smell of Elmer. Max was miserable about everything the kittens had ruined. But, as it turns out, there are worse things than ruined collectibles and destroyed statues.
Believe it or not, there are even worse things than robots that smell like pee, or failed contest submissions.
There are still worse things than not having your parents around while your life is falling apart—or having your cousin be the only person around to help you out—aside from a sister who’s already mad at you and House, who thinks that ordering pizza is the solution to every problem.
The very worst thing that Max had to face on this particular night?
A front door, wide open, leading to a front-yard gate, also wide open . . .
. . . and two traumatized cats streaking out of the house because they think you hate them. Helpless, defenseless kittens, alone again in a dangerous world.
Max wallowed in his misery as they arrived at the Battle of the Bots venue. He shuffled along behind Javi as Min registered and weighed Elmer (a bit heavier than she’d calculated, but still made weight). He plopped down absently into the bleachers by the Battle Arena, with the bright lights, spinning blades, and flamethrower obstacles dazzling everyone but him.
Max was barely able to enjoy the popcorn Javi brought him as he watched Min pilot Elmer through the first few rounds. “Noobs,” she said during a break. It was an open competition, and a lot of robots looked like they had come from a kit. So far, Elmer’s battles ha
d been super easy. His AI had barely been tested. Each round, Elmer walked in calmly, squatted in the center of the arena, and waited. Each round, the enemy robot would approach and Elmer would shoot out an arm, grasper extended, and flip the robot into the wall of the arena.
The semi-finals battle against the team from South Los Angeles was the first real challenge for Elmer. Max and Min knew some of them from summer gaming camps, and they were some of the smartest kids they knew. Their robot, Toro, was wedge-shaped and extremely fast. Toro’s move was to zoom in before the other bot could even react, wedge forward, and launch them into the air, over and over, until the crash landings crushed them. Too quick to catch, Toro was going to be hard for Elmer to beat.
The match started, and Toro screamed toward Elmer. Max saw Min tap a button, and Elmer shifted into crab mode—body high, balanced on four legs. For the first time, Toro didn’t know where to hit. It rammed one of Elmer’s legs, zipping under it and flipping it upward, but Elmer just let it swing up and shifted his weight into his other three legs. No problem. Toro couldn’t flip Elmer, but then again, Elmer couldn’t catch Toro.
Max had an idea. “Give it the hammer!” he shouted to Min. She glanced at Max with a half smile, nodding. Max saw Elmer switch out a grasper with a punching attachment (aka the hammer), which was tube-shaped and slammed out a metal rod, kind of like a sledgehammer workers used to break up concrete. Min turned Elmer so the hammer was facing Toro, and as it rushed in, she raised the leg and tapped a button. She timed it perfectly, and the hammer shot out just as Toro reached Elmer. A loud crunch echoed in the arena. Toro stopped cold. Elmer raised the hammer again. Crunch. For the first time today, Toro was completely still, smoking. Min was in the finals.
Min carefully placed Elmer in his charger and joined Max and Javi back in the stands. “NASA, here I come,” she said to Max and Javi as they waited for the final round.
Max was impressed. Min sailed through the competition and Elmer didn’t even have a scratch. There was a pretty big crowd, and a big screen flashed with Min and Elmer’s picture up on it. He had to admit, watching robots get smashed up was rather fun.
Cats vs. Robots, Volume 1 Page 14