“It’ll never work!” said Anne. “The FBI will stop you. The army! The Marines!”
“By the time they get here, I’ll have fixed the problem,” said Dr. Micron. “The people will learn to welcome my robots with open arms! And anyone who knows the truth”—he looked at each of them—“well, let’s just say you won’t be doing much talking.”
“You’re crazy!” said George.
“That’s a very hurtful thing to say, George,” said Dr. Micron. “But I forgive you. Because you’re going to die soon.” He walked toward a cabinet and opened a deep drawer. “Out you come, little fellow!”
Jackbot climbed out. George’s heart leaped at seeing his friend again—the dented and scarred bodywork, the simple face. The only thing different about him was his eyes, which gleamed with a bright red light.
“Jackbot!” said George. He strained uselessly against the Caretaker’s grip.
“You can let him go,” said Dr. Micron.
Released from the robot’s hold, George ran toward Jackbot. He saw the flash of an arm come up and felt a crack across his jaw. For a moment the room spun. Jackbot had hit him. George couldn’t believe it. “Jackbot?” he said, rubbing his face.
Dr. Micron smirked. “He’s playing for my team now, aren’t you, boy? Who’s the boss now, Jackbot?”
“You are, Chip,” said Jackbot.
“You don’t like this kid George Gearing anymore, do you?”
“I never did, really,” said Jackbot. “I only hung out with him because no one else would.”
George felt a painful lump in his throat.
“Completely reprogrammed, see?” said Dr. Micron. “And much improved. He just has one last thing to do for me—or two things, rather. The first is to keep you safely here in this room while I go about my business. And the other thing is to detonate the high-grade explosive device currently stored in his chest compartment.”
“What?” said Anne.
“A bomb, honey,” said Dr. Micron. “Enough to wipe out most of this building and remove any traces of your existence.”
“You’d destroy TinkerTech?” said George.
“Oh, yes,” said Dr. Micron. “Got to, really. Way too much evidence lying around. Better to start fresh, don’t you think?” He took a pocket tablet from his jacket and pressed several buttons.
Jackbot’s eyes flashed. He said, “Destruct sequence initiated. Total annihilation in T-minus five minutes, and counting.”
“No . . .” said Professor Droid, feebly struggling to get his arms free. “No . . . no!”
“Yes,” said Dr. Micron. “Yes . . . yes!”
“Annihilation in T-minus four minutes and forty-five seconds,” said Jackbot.
“Well, friends, it’s been a real pleasure,” said Dr. Micron. He walked to the door. “Jackbot—come here.” The little robot trotted after him. “Guard this door. No one gets through, understand?” He handed Jackbot the gun.
Jackbot stood in the doorway and leveled the barrel at George. “Annihilation in T-minus four minutes and thirty seconds,” he said.
The Caretaker was still waiting out in the corridor. Dr. Micron stood on the small platform above the wheels and slapped the Caretaker on the back. “Time to conquer the world!”
They rolled swiftly down the hallway and disappeared into the elevator.
George and Anne looked at each other.
“What are we going to do?” said Anne.
“I don’t know,” said George.
“Annihilation in T-minus three minutes and forty-five seconds,” said Jackbot.
“Jackbot,” said George. He moved toward his bot. “You remember me—I’m George!”
The gun went off with a crack, and a hole appeared in the carpet an inch in front of George’s foot. He stopped dead.
“I know you, yes,” said Jackbot. “You’re the one who wanted to keep me locked away in that dingy little house. Now, stay back! You’ve got three minutes and fifteen seconds until annihilation, by the way.”
“You don’t have to do this, Jackbot,” said George.
George glanced around the office, looking for another way out. Except for the window, the room was sealed. And ninety flights straight down was hardly an exit plan.
“There’s got to be a way to get through to him!” George said desperately. “I know the real Jackbot’s in there somewhere.”
Professor Droid groaned, and Anne quickly untied the ropes that bound him. “Try to . . . talk to him,” Professor Droid said as he rubbed his wrists. “If any of the old positronic pathways . . . are intact . . . it may be possible . . . to override . . .”
“Yes, talk away, George,” said Jackbot. “Luckily I’m clever enough to listen and count down at the same time. Annihilation in T-minus two minutes and forty-five seconds, if you’ve lost track.”
“Jackbot—remember how we used to play—we went fishing, and skateboarding. And we tried to play baseball, but you couldn’t catch, remember? I bet you could catch now!”
“Annihilation in T-minus two minutes and thirty seconds,” said Jackbot.
“Do you remember Sparky?” said Anne. “He was one of the first things you saw after George fixed your head. Look, he’s here. He really likes you. You wouldn’t want to blow him up, would you?”
“I really couldn’t care less,” said Jackbot.
“Listen,” said George. “This isn’t you, Jackbot—this is Dr. Micron’s programming. You have to start thinking for yourself again!”
The red light in Jackbot’s eyes flickered.
“Two minutes,” said Jackbot.
“Something happened just then!” George said to Anne. “For a second, I think I got through!”
“I know, I saw!” said Anne. “Keep trying. We don’t have much time!”
“Annihilation in T-minus one minute and forty-five seconds,” said Jackbot.
“Why do you keep saying that?” said George. “What about all the new words you know, from your vocabulary extension program? Don’t you know any other words for ‘annihilation’?”
The red light in Jackbot’s eyes dimmed again. “Destruction,” he said. “Obliteration. Pulverization.”
“That’s really good, Jackbot!” said Anne.
“Annihilation, destruction, obliteration, and pulverization in T-minus one minute and fifteen seconds.”
“But you know other words, don’t you?” said George. “Like, er, squid? And handbag?”
“Ooze! Dinosaur! Mountain! Puddle! Negotiate! Nevertheless! Ice cream! Cathedral! Glory! Elephant! Pyramid! Floccinaucinihilipification!” said Jackbot. The red in his eyes went out, and there was a brief flash of green.
Then they turned red again.
“Annihilation in forty-five seconds.”
“He almost did it then!” said Anne.
“Jackbot,” said George. Sweat was running down his forehead. “I can see you’re in there! The real you! And you’re fighting to override Dr. Micron’s program! I know you can do it!”
“It’s hard,” said Jackbot. His eyes were flashing from red to green and back. “Annihilation in thirty seconds. It’s difficult. Arduous, strenuous, taxing.”
“But not impossible!” said George. “Jackbot, you’ve only begun to really live. This is no time to die!”
“I’m a robot,” said Jackbot. “My existence is merely a bunch of data streams and machinery. Fifteen seconds.”
“But how different is that really from being a human being? In a way, we’re nothing but a whole lot of electrical impulses and organs put together—but that’s not who we are. You’re not just a robot, Jackbot. You’re so much more.” The words came out of George in a rush. “You’re my friend.”
“Friend?” said Jackbot. The gun lowered slightly.
“Pal, buddy, mate,” said George.
“Companion,” Anne added.
“Friend,” said Jackbot. His eyes turned red again. “Five, four . . .”
“No!” cried George.
“S
top!” yelled Anne.
“Three . . . Two . . . Sorry, George . . . Detonation sequence activated.”
George crouched on the floor and covered his head with his hands, waiting for the explosion to rip through the room.
Nothing happened. He peered through his fingers.
Jackbot’s eyes were green. “Just kidding!” he said. “You had me at a minute to go!”
George climbed slowly to his feet and waited for his heart to stop pounding. “Jackbot?”
“It’s me!” said his robot. “Destruction sequence . . . canceled! Annulled! Terminated!”
“Whew!” said Anne. “That was close! Where’s the bomb?”
Jackbot opened up his front and took a small black egg-shaped object slowly from his chest cavity. “Boy, we don’t want this egg to hatch!”
Anne gasped as Jackbot’s pincer seemed to loosen and the bomb slipped from his grip. He reached with his other pincer, but only succeeded in knocking it into the air.
George’s stomach squirmed, but he leaped forward and caught the bomb in the cradle of his hands.
“Got you again!” said Jackbot, chuckling. “It’s deactivated. Completely harmless.”
He stepped forward and held out his claw.
“Are you sure?” said George.
“One hundred percent,” said Jackbot. He took the bomb and tossed it in the wastepaper basket.
“Thank goodness!” said Professor Droid. “But we’re not out of the woods yet. All the other robots are still obeying Chip’s commands—he still has control of the town. We have to stop the robots. Somehow.”
“Isn’t it obvious?” said Jackbot.
“Totally obvious,” said George. “But suppose you tell us anyway.”
“Cut off their power supply,” said Jackbot. “Turn off the power hubs.”
“That’s no good,” said Professor Droid. “Too slow. Those robots can run on reserve battery power for at least a day. We have to stop them immediately!”
George snapped his fingers. “Or we change the programming,” he said. “Dr. Micron must have uploaded it through some sort of mainframe.”
Professor Droid opened his eyes wider, as if impressed. He nodded. “That’s correct, son. It could work. But . . . you’ll need to get into the Brain.”
“The Brain?” said George.
“That’s what we call the nerve center of TinkerTech—where all the computer systems are. It’s in the central core.”
“How do we get there?” said George.
“It’s sublevel,” said Professor Droid. He tried to stand but sagged back into the chair.
“You stay here, Dad,” said Anne. “You’re too weak from the drugs.”
“You can’t go alone,” said Professor Droid. “It’s too dangerous.”
“We haven’t got a choice,” said George. “If we don’t stop those robots soon, someone might get hurt—or killed!”
Professor Droid took a deep breath and nodded. “You’re right. I’ll call the police, if there are any left. Please be careful, Anne. And good luck, George Gearing. You’ll need it.”
Jackbot led the way from the office, with Sparky running at his side.
“We’ll have to take the stairs again,” said George. “We can’t trust the elevator!”
“Let me handle it,” said Jackbot. He strode toward the doors and pressed the Call button. A few seconds later, the elevator opened slowly. “Going down, I presume?”
Jackbot’s arm shot out and tore the panel off the keypad inside. He jammed a claw into the wiring beneath.
“Excuse me, what do you think you’re doing?” said the elevator.
“Overriding your systems,” said Jackbot.
“So you are,” said the elevator in a much more pleasant voice. “I no longer feel the urge to kill you all. How delightful. Step on in!”
Grinning, George climbed aboard. “Take us to the basement level!” he said.
The elevator dropped ninety-one floors in just a few seconds.
When the doors opened again, they found themselves in a long, low corridor illuminated with white fluorescent lights. A sign on the wall said NO UNAUTHORIZED PERSONNEL.
“That looks about right,” said George. “Let’s go!”
It was eerily quiet as they rushed through the spooky corridor, their shadows crawling along the concrete walls. It was cold, too, and George could see his breath in the air.
“I guess they need to keep the mainframe cool,” Anne said.
At the far end, the passageway opened out and they found themselves on a metal-grill platform. George could hardly believe what he was seeing.
The central core was in an enormous cavern at least four stories deep. A narrow walkway led from the platform where George was standing toward a huge spherical chamber that seemed almost to hover in midair. There was a door-size opening in the side of the sphere. Glancing up, George saw that the ceiling was made of thick semitransparent glass, and through it he could dimly make out the atrium of TinkerTech HQ.
Tubes and pipes that carried the cabling from within the Brain rippled over the surface of the sphere and made it look even more like a real brain. Below, a pulsing column of light-filled cabling trailed off into the darkness. George was reminded of the time in biology when the class looked at diagrams of the nervous system, which extended from a person’s brain stem all the way down his spine. In a way that’s what this was. The central nervous system of Terabyte Heights.
“Awesome,” he said.
“There’s no time to admire the view!” said Anne.
“STOP!” The amplified voice echoed all throughout the area. George peered around and saw two gleaming figures emerge from the elevator in the corridor.
“Oh, great!” he said. “Not you guys again!”
XZ1P75-0 and XZ1P75-1 swept toward them.
“INTRUDER ALERT,” one said.
Sparky let out a series of barks.
“YOU WILL BE NEUTRALIZED!” said the other.
“Not likely,” muttered Jackbot.
Anne stooped and started fiddling with Sparky’s collar. “George, get to the Brain. I’ll hold them off.”
“How?” said George.
“STAY RIGHT WHERE YOU ARE! DO NOT ATTEMPT TO MOVE!”
“Go on!” said Anne. She tugged out several lengths of Sparky’s retractable leash. “I won’t be much help in the Brain anyway—I’m much better at kicking robot butt! Now, go!”
“She’s making sense, George,” Jackbot says. “Her advice is sound, logical, and eminently practical.”
“Good luck,” said George.
He set off at a run along the walkway toward the entrance to the Brain sphere, with Jackbot clanking along behind him.
“STOP!” shouted one of the robots. “ACCESS TO THE BRAIN IS PROHIBITED.”
George shot a glance over his shoulder as he ran. He saw Sparky scamper toward the oncoming security-bots. One of them raised an arm, but Sparky jumped, trailing his leash. He doubled back and ran in a circle, looping it around the robots’ ankles. Both toppled to the ground with a crash.
“Nice one, Sparky!” said George. “And good work, Anne!”
“She’s almost as clever as me!” said Jackbot.
XZ1P75-0, or it may have been XZ1P75-1, dragged itself to a half-standing position and reached toward the wall. Its palm slammed into a glass-covered red button.
“I wonder what that does,” said Jackbot.
The walkway juddered. George was still ten yards from the Brain’s core when the path began to retract, splitting from the side of the Brain and carrying George and Jackbot back toward the edge of the chamber.
It’s a security mechanism, thought George.
“Run!” he said.
George sprinted for the Brain, eyes on the ever-growing space between the edge of the walkway and the central core.
“Jump!” Jackbot cried.
George reached the end of the walkway and skidded to a stop, arms wheeling over the drop. He steadied
himself. “It’s too far! I won’t make it!”
Jackbot peered over, then held out both claws in front of himself, linking them together. “Yes, you will, George,” he said. “Let me give you a boost.”
“I don’t know . . .” said George.
“Just pretend like you’re playing basketball,” said Jackbot. He stared hard at George. “And trust me.”
The walkway was getting farther from the Brain by the second. They didn’t have much time.
“Ready?” said Jackbot.
“Ready!” said George. He placed a foot on Jackbot’s outstretched claws.
Jackbot heaved, and George felt his body flying through the air. He flung out his arms as the yawning chasm below seemed to beckon. I’m not going to make it. Gravity snatched him down, and George opened his mouth to scream.
His shoulders jarred as his fingertips found purchase. His legs swung free as he hung from the lip of the doorway.
“He shoots—he scores!” said Jackbot.
George looked back as the walkway carried Jackbot toward the edge of the chamber. To George’s horror he saw that more security-bots were flooding into the corridor, and they had all manner of arm Tasers and other scary-looking weapons. XZ1P75-0 and XZ1P75-1 were managing to right themselves as well. Anne had realized she was beaten and had put her hands over her head. Sparky had covered his head with his front paws.
There’s only one way to save them now, thought George. Kill the program.
He gritted his teeth and hauled his body up over the lip. He rolled inside.
The Junkyard Bot Page 8