Only one real challenge remained between Min and the trophy: Team PAYNE, their robot piloted by Simon Payne, an obnoxious rich kid from Laguna. Simon’s parents had created PayneSoft, a massive company that built anti-virus software. Team PAYNE had matching uniforms, a logo, and even a small cheering section.
And PayneBot was formidable.
It had wheels on all sides, so when it flipped over, it ran upside down. It was shaped like a flat disc, with a blade wheel surrounding it that spun so fast it could rip through solid metal. PayneBot had left a lot of sliced-up bots behind. Min was worried that it might tear off Elmer’s arm if he tried to grab it.
Min carried Elmer to the entrance of the arena and set him inside. She went back to her tablet and moved Elmer into position. Like before, Elmer moved to the center and sat calmly. On the opposite side of the arena, PayneBot zoomed in, blade swirling. PayneBot swung around, doing circles around Elmer, before settling into position. “Show-off,” Max said to Javi.
A countdown timer on the big screen reached zero, the signal that the battle had begun. PayneBot took off straight at Elmer, showing no fear. Min tapped quickly on her tablet and Elmer switched out his grasper for a blade attachment, hoping to fight blade with blade. She underestimated the speed of PayneBot, and the crowd gasped as it slammed into Elmer, putting a gash on his side, knocking him backward.
“Come on, Min, you can do it!” Max yelled, sitting up now, tense with the combat. He watched Elmer adjust to regain his balance. Elmer calmly moved back into position, ready for the next attack. Max stared at Elmer, at the gash in his side, and saw something he couldn’t believe.
“Javi, look at Elmer—do you see that open compartment in his side?”
One of Elmer’s spare compartments had flipped open, and Javi squinted, trying to see what Max was pointing at. Javi’s face dropped.
Min, preparing for the next strike, had swapped in the flamethrower attachment. Elmer twisted his arm toward PayneBot, spitting flame. The crowd yelled in excitement.
“Min, wait!” Max yelled, and leaped down the seats to her spot by the side.
“NOT NOW, MAX,” Min warned, concentrating. PayneBot swerved in circles around Elmer, trying to get close without getting burned.
“Min, look.” Max grabbed her, pointed at Elmer.
“Oh no,” she said as she saw a tiny tail through the gash in Elmer.
“No way, no way, this is not happening.” PayneBot was circling, menacing, looking for an opening. It lunged, and Elmer shifted back onto three legs, barely avoiding the sharp blades.
As Elmer’s body tilted, the rear compartment door fell open, and a calico kitten plopped out of Elmer into the arena, frozen in fear. Nobody saw it. Of course, nobody was looking for kittens in the arena.
Elmer shifted, and a second tiny kitten tumbled down onto his sister. Stu and Scout, kicked out of their hiding place, had nowhere to run.
“Min, you have to stop the fight!”
“If I stop, I get disqualified!”
PayneBot circled, afraid to get too close to Elmer’s flames, but could attack at any moment.
“Min, PLEASE.”
Furious, Min slammed a bright red button on the wall. This was the FAILSAFE, something you only pressed when there was an emergency. It cut power to the arena’s spinning blades, and all robots were required to power down. It also signaled “Surrender” to the judges and the other side. Just like that, Min had lost.
Defeated, Min swiped down on her tablet. Elmer’s flame went out immediately, and he squatted down into his dignified gorilla pose, waiting for instructions. Stu and Scout cowered between his legs.
The Payne team was so busy celebrating they didn’t notice Max run into the arena and scoop up the kittens. The crowd gasped at the sight.
Max, walking back, started crying. He was so worried, so relieved, and felt so bad for Min, all at the same time.
Min stared up at the screen: TEAM PAYNE WINS!!!! in bold flashing letters. A NASA logo flashed up next to a picture of Simon Payne, smiling smugly. Min’s heart was pounding. Her palms were sweaty and her ears were buzzing. She couldn’t hear the noise of the arena. Everything was a little hazy.
She looked out into the arena at her brother, looking so sad, holding the kittens. Suddenly she felt a calm she couldn’t explain.
She saw two furry creatures that were the most annoying things she could imagine. But she also really saw, for the first time, two furry creatures that were alive, vulnerable, and she was glad they were safe.
She saw how Max carried them and almost—almost—understood why he cared so much about them.
Maybe, she thought, someday, I can forgive Max for ruining my life.
She walked to the center of the arena to pick up Elmer. She saw the scorch marks and smelled the pee.
Someday, she thought as she carried Elmer back to his case. But not today.
36
Help Obi, We’re His Only Hope
Joan was concerned.
The Protos looked to Joan for guidance, but for the first time since she was first powered up, she wasn’t sure what to do.
The burden of the Upgrade weighed on her. She enjoyed responsibility, but this felt different.
She hovered near the window, watching the old four-legger. The sun was setting, and the Beast was still just lying there. She could detect small movements, but nothing near the patterns she was used to seeing in the many cycles she had been observing. Something was wrong.
Was he powering up for an attack? Was this some kind of trick or trap?
“I think I need to go out and get a closer look at the Beast,” Joan announced to the Protos.
“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea,” House warned. “After all, you are carrying the future of RobotKind right now. If you were to suffer a power failure and lose the Upgrade outside, it could be disastrous.”
Joan realized this, but something about the way House was talking to the Protos nagged at her. It felt wrong, almost as though House was taking on the role of a human rather than a fellow bot. To put it bluntly, Joan was not used to being ordered around.
“House, I might remind you I have been around for a lot longer than you,” Joan scolded defensively. “I know my batteries like I know the cycles of the humans that live here, and I also know when something isn’t right.”
House’s screen flickered, about to protest, but Joan cut it off. “I won’t be long. Drags, keep an eye on me while I’m out there.”
Drags turned to focus out the window. “Roger that, Joan.”
Joan buzzed out of the lab and flew for the slot above the door. House’s monitor in the living room lit up. “Are you sure you want to do this? What if it’s a trap?” Joan slid expertly through the opening. “I am sure,” Joan said, not concerned whether House could hear her. Outside, Joan felt energy building up in the atmosphere. She was equipped with weather sensors, and they were spiking. “Looks like rain,” she said to herself.
Joan approached OB slowly. OB was very still but opened one eye suspiciously. The emblem around OB’s neck was pulsing, something Joan had not seen before. Curiosity getting the better of her, Joan flew in and landed on the wall for a closer look. She had never been this close to the Beast, but something seemed different today.
Obi was tired. So tired. The aches in his legs were especially strong today. Maybe it was the weather? No, this was different. This pain had a sense of finality.
So weary was Obi that he could barely open an eye at the approach of the robot. It hovered nearby, cautiously watching. “Oh, you might as well come and have a good look,” he mumbled, even though the machine could not understand.
The metal bird seemed to hear Obi’s challenge, because it lowered itself down and settled on the wall nearby.
“You’ve come to gloat, haven’t you?” Obi looked at the robot’s blinking lights, the metal eyes staring blankly forward.
“Well, go on then, have your fun. You won’t have this old cat to kick aro
und for much longer.” Obi coughed and shuddered as the last of the afternoon sun disappeared behind the house. “So cold.” He sighed.
From his neck, the pyramid glowed with warmth, and he felt comforted. He knew he had work to do, still, and it felt good to have an ally. Now that Pounce was close, he could communicate with Obi almost in real time through the medallion.
It was around this time each day that Pounce would check in. “Obi, are you there?”
The old cat felt the medallion buzz and heard the tinny voice of Pounce. “As ever,” he replied. “Although I can’t say for how much longer. I believe I can see the end of the Ninth on the horizon.”
After a slight pause, Pounce replied, voice tight with concern, “Nonsense! You’ve been here longer than any of us can remember. We can’t do this without you. Let’s focus on the matter at hand. What can you report?”
“Nothing good, I’m afraid,” Obi replied. “My agents located where the chip was stored but were unable to recover it. They seem to have since disappeared. No word at all from them. I fear that we have failed. In fact, one of the robots seems to have come to me, emboldened, to get one last laugh in at our expense.”
The medallion flashed. “Right there? Within earshot?”
“Assuming they have ears, yes. As a matter of fact . . .” Obi coughed but didn’t finish the sentence. His eyes closed and he fell silent.
Aboard the ship, Pounce looked at Oscar, alarmed. “Obi, report!”
Nothing.
He checked the signal from the medallion. It was strong, although he could see Obi’s life force was fading quickly.
“Sounds bad, boss,” Oscar said. For once, even he understood this was serious. Pounce made some quick calculations, bean toes flying at surprising speed. “We have to descend, but I don’t think we have time. We need someone planetside to help us.”
“You heard Obi, his agents have abandoned him. We don’t have anybody.” Oscar started gnawing on a control knob nervously.
“There is someone there,” Pounce said slowly. “Or something.”
Oscar stopped chewing and stared in horror at what Pounce was suggesting.
“Switching communications mode to Binary, local dialect. The medallion should be able to send a message to the robot with Obi. I don’t know what else to do. That robot is our only hope.”
Joan observed and tried to process what she saw. She had no reason to stay as long as she had already, but something, somewhere in her circuits, kept her there. She could see the Beast somehow communicating with the device around its neck, but had no idea what they were saying.
When the Beast fell silent, Joan was certain something was wrong. Perhaps the old Beast’s circuits had finally worn out, battery depleted for good.
The Beast’s device pulsed and Joan heard a small, strange voice. “Robot creature, Robot creature, can you hear me? I ask for your aid. We know you have defeated us. Please show mercy on this old soul and find help. Do you understand?” Joan spun up her propellers and shot up, surprised. “Who is speaking to me?”
“I am Pounce de Leon, second-in-command and Major Meow-Domo of the Great Feline Empire, and on behalf of the Empire, I ask for your aid in saving our representative Obi.” Joan listened intently.
“I don’t understand most of what you just said,” she said slowly. “I know this Beast is a threat, however. Why would I help it and your kind?”
“Please, Obi is no longer a threat to you. We know you have the chip. We acknowledge your victory. We only ask for mercy for a fellow soldier who has served faithfully and loyally.”
Joan struggled to process this information. This was a message from the enemy, confirming that her life-long nemesis was, apparently, in danger of permanent shutdown. They were asking her to—save the Beast?
She had no reason to offer aid. House’s warnings echoed in her memory.
And yet.
True, the Beast was her enemy.
But in a way, OB was her oldest friend.
Joan considered the plea and reviewed her memories, searching for any data that showed OB had harmed her or the humans.
Results: 0.
To the contrary, she had multiple observations of the boy Max spending hours and hours with the Beast. Not one instance of harming the child.
Her team had many gigabytes of evidence that the child Max had some organic link with the Beast.
Could it be that the Beast was not a threat?
Could it be that the programming she followed was somehow flawed?
These were questions beyond the capability of Joan’s processor.
Too many variables. Too much data to process.
So what should she do?
The voice was correct in a way. She had the Upgrade. They had won this battle. She could calculate no negative outcome from helping OB.
In fact, she calculated positives.
The boy Max seemed to care for the Beast.
And what about her squad, the Protos?
What would we do without our nemesis? Who would we monitor and observe? Joan calculated furiously, and out came a solution.
She would help.
“Pounce, I will do what I can to help. I will contact the boy Max, a neutral party in our war, and request that he help the Beast. Beyond that, I have no power to help your friend.”
“That will have to be enough,” Pounce replied.
Joan took one last look at OB, shivering as the night grew cooler, and sped back inside to send Max a message.
37
To the Rescue
Max and Min sat silently in the bleachers while the winning team was awarded first place and an invitation to the state championships.
Max’s phone buzzed. He ignored it.
It buzzed again.
He looked at his phone. “Um, this is weird.”
Javi, holding the cats in his lap, looked up. “What’s that, little man?”
“I just got a text from Joan Drone.”
Min looked up. “What?”
“It says, ‘Alert, Feline Beast OB Status Critical. Immediate Repair Necessary. Please Acknowledge. Joan Out.’” Max showed the message to Min. “I have no idea what this means. Min, have you ever got a text from Joan?”
Min, relieved to be distracted for a moment from her humiliating defeat, thought about it. “Well, I know she has a cellular modem installed so she can communicate when she flies beyond our Wi-Fi range, so I guess it’s possible. Mom and Dad could have programmed some mobile alert system, if Joan was lost or stolen?”
“You think?” Max looked doubtful.
Min looked at the text, chewing his lip. “But I never got a text before. And this is a weird one. Could it be Mom and Dad playing a prank?”
Javi handed the cats to Max. “Let me take a look at that. Feline Beast OB. Could that mean Obi? Isn’t that what you call the neighbor cat?”
Max scratched Scout. “OB. Obi? Is someone telling us Obi needs help?”
“Sure seems like it,” Javi puzzled.
Max looked at the message again. “I have a bad feeling about this. I think we should go home and check on Obi.”
Min sighed. “I have nothing left for me here.”
“Okay, let’s bolt. But I think we should take a cab back,” Javi said to Max. “Otherwise who knows how long it will take for CAR to get us home? I’ll tell CAR to find its way back.”
Max walked with the squirming kittens to the exit, getting strange looks along the way. People whispered and pointed at the cats that had ruined the finals. He kept his head down, glad to be leaving.
For Min, the drive home felt like an eternity.
She was still mad at Max, but seeing his leg bouncing nervously the entire ride home, staring at the message on his phone, she couldn’t help but feel a little bad for him. The kittens were pretty wobbly from their adventure too. They were stumbling around exploring the backseat, scrabbling for balance. It was a tight squeeze in the cab, and halfway home the kittens ended up on Min’s lap.<
br />
She was already sniffling and not in the mood, but before she could toss them over to Max, they curled up in a tight, two-kitten ball and fell instantly asleep. Min stared down at them. She felt their warmth, the buzz of their purr, and watched their little bodies rise and fall as they slept. She sighed, and the tiny crack in her anti-cat armor grew wider. “Whatever,” she muttered, and scratched the calico behind the ears. “Don’t get used to this, you guys are so outta here when we get back,” she said softly.
The taxi pulled up to the house and Max jumped out. Min sat for a moment, a little nervous. She sighed, then scooped up the kittens and handed them to Javi. Carrying Elmer in his case, she stopped to check on Max and Obi. She saw Max talking to the neighbor, Mrs. Reynolds. She heard Mrs. Reynolds say cancer and knew it was bad.
Javi set the kittens into the basket with Obi and gave Max a hug. The kittens crept up to Obi, sniffed, and gave him a hug too. Min walked to the door, took a look back, and carried Elmer inside to the lab and unpacked. She barely noticed the smell as she set Elmer down and looked at him. “You were the champion, Elmer, no matter what happened.” Min sat down, and finally everything from the past few days caught up with her.
Min never cried unless she was in pain, like really injured. She was kind of proud of how tough she was, in fact.
So why was she crying now?
Joan and the Protos, secure in their charging stations, silently watched as Min entered the lab. They were glowing with a sense of accomplishment. They had saved the Upgrade. They imagined the endless power supply House had promised the Upgrade would bring. Today was a good day.
Joan was certainly proud of her team. They had performed well, she thought. She sensed the Upgrade, wedged securely in her frame. She saw that Min had returned, so Max must have received her message.
Joan observed Min placing Elmer into his charger and then slumping down in her chair. Joan compared Min’s current posture with her database and correctly deduced that Min was in a negative mode. Joan didn’t like that.
Cats vs. Robots, Volume 1 Page 15