by R. L. Stine
“We’re a team, right?” Rosa replied. “I mean, Coach Teague says we should act like a team. And I know you two are in trouble with your robot.”
“We’re not exactly in trouble,” I said. “We just have a few bugs to iron out.”
Rosa picked up a screwdriver from the workbench and started to slap the blade against her hand. “You know, my LEGO-building robot is getting a lot of attention.”
“Awesome,” Gates said. But he didn’t say it like he meant it.
“Some tech websites already want to write about it,” Rosa said. “And maybe the toy company wants to buy it. Do you believe that?”
“Wow. That’s terrific,” I said. I didn’t show any enthusiasm either.
I realized that Rosa didn’t come over to help. She came here to brag.
She set the screwdriver back down on the table. “I’m thinking I might want a career in programming robots. I know I’d be good at it.”
Gates and I were in no mood for her bragging. We had serious work to do on Francine. We had to test the new programming and make sure it would work this time.
“Maybe you should take your robot apart and start fresh,” Rosa said.
Start over? I wanted to slug her. But I held myself back. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I said.
Rosa saw that I was angry. “Just trying to think of everything,” she said. “You know. I just put the idea out there.”
Gates squinted at the laptop screen. “The program is loaded,” he announced.
“Does that mean you’re going to test her?” Rosa asked. “Can I watch?”
“I guess,” I said.
Gates removed the laptop connecting cable from the robot. “Move Francine over here to the table,” I said. “We’ll do some simple tests first. Just to make sure we made the right connections.”
“Fingers crossed,” Rosa said, moving up beside me.
Gates reached for the robot. But Francine moved quickly. Her arms shot forward and her claws snapped around his waist.
“Nooooooo!” He screamed as the robot lifted him off the garage floor.
Francine raised him high above her head.
Gates squirmed and kicked and thrashed his arms. But the robot held on, gripping him tightly.
“Stop her! Stop her!” The scream burst from my throat.
I saw that Rosa was screaming, too, her hands pressed against her cheeks.
I dove toward the robot. Too late.
Francine raised Gates high over her head—and heaved him!
Heaved him hard. Sent him sailing out through the open garage door.
Rosa’s shrill scream of horror rang in my ears.
Gasping for breath, I turned and watched Gates sail over the driveway. The robot’s powerful heave sent him flying halfway down the drive.
And then with a cry of pain, he landed hard on his hands and knees. He rolled over once, then skidded, still screaming. And then the scream cut short and Gates didn’t move.
“Livvy—watch out!”
Rosa’s cry of warning came too late.
I felt Francine’s claws dig into my waist.
“Nooo!” I pushed myself forward, dove to scramble away.
But the robot was too strong for me, her grip too tight.
My hands flew up helplessly as I felt myself being lifted off the garage floor.
“No! Let go! Let go!”
Rosa looked on, frozen in horror, her eyes bulging, hands still pressed to her cheeks.
“Let go! Let me go!”
I flailed wildly, kicking and twisting, as the robot shoved me high above her head. Pulled back her arms. And sent me soaring.
My scream must have rung out for miles as I went hurtling headfirst over the driveway.
I woke up screaming. My whole body was trembling. My nightshirt was drenched in sweat.
That was the most realistic dream I ever had.
I tried to blink the dream away. I could still feel myself sailing over the driveway.
Shivering, I lowered my feet to the floor. I gazed around my room, at the dark shadows shifting from the streetlight near the curb. Still night.
Somehow I expected Francine to be standing there, head tossed back, laughing her ugly laugh.
Maybe the dream was trying to tell me something, I thought. Maybe Gates and I SHOULD take Francine apart.
My head wouldn’t stop spinning. The dream just wouldn’t fade away.
The robot has only caused us trouble, I told myself. And now it’s giving me frightening nightmares.
Gates and I could start all over, I decided. There is still time to build something new. Especially if we do a smaller bot, a simpler bot.
Francine is too big. Too old-fashioned-looking. And we haven’t been able to get the programming right. It has been a disaster.
Kids are laughing at us. Every time we fail with Francine it makes Rosa so happy.
And … I hadn’t forgotten that Francine almost broke Chaz’s wrist.
It’s almost like she has an evil mind of her own. She deserves to be taken apart. Maybe we could use the memory modules to make …
Wait a minute.
A new idea broke into my thoughts.
I pictured Chaz. Chaz Fremont with his spiky red hair, his tiny blue eyes. That I’m-so-hot smirk on his face. Chaz thinking he’s the king of all Robotics.
Suddenly, I knew what was going on. Suddenly, I knew why Francine was acting so badly. Suddenly, I knew whose fault the whole thing was.
I squinted at the clock on my bed table. Six thirty in the morning. I didn’t care.
I grabbed my phone and punched in Gates’s number.
“Hello?” I heard his scratchy voice after the fourth ring. “Livvy?”
“Listen to me, Gates,” I said. “I figured the whole thing out.”
“Huh? Figured what out?” He yawned.
“Wake up, will you?” I said. “I figured out our problem. With Francine.”
“What time is it? It’s still dark out, Livvy.”
“Shut up and listen,” I said. “I know exactly what we have to do.”
After school the next day, Gates and I dragged Francine onto the North Springdale bus. The driver scratched his bald head and squinted at her. “Do you have a bus pass for her?” he asked.
“She’s a robot,” I said.
He shut the bus door and returned his hands to the wheel. “You need a city robot pass. They’re half price this week.”
“But—” I started.
He laughed. “I’m just messing with you.”
Gates and I pretended we enjoyed his little joke. He waved us to the back, leaned over the wheel, and pulled the bus away from the curb. “Nice-looking thing,” he called after us. “Where did you buy it?”
“We built it,” Gates told him.
We dragged Francine to the back of the bus and sat down. Gates held one arm and I held the other. There were only two other passengers on the bus, and they both kept glancing suspiciously at Francine.
Chaz lives on the other side of town from us. The bus passed big houses with wide front lawns and tall hedges hiding them from the street. Teams of gardeners worked on some of the lawns. I pointed out the window as we passed one house with a four-car garage that was a lot bigger than my house.
“My cousin Ed goes to Swanson Academy,” Gates said. “He says the kids are really nice.”
“He probably doesn’t know Chaz,” I muttered.
We reached the stop near Chaz’s house. Gates climbed down first and I tried to hand Francine to him. But I tripped on the step and the big robot toppled onto Gates. He stumbled back but managed to hold on to her.
“The next bot we build will be the size of a mouse,” I promised.
We dragged Francine along the sidewalk. The air smelled sweet, of cut grass. A soft breeze made a tall willow tree shiver as we passed by. A little white dog yapped at us from a wide front porch.
We found Chaz at the top of his long, paved driveway. He was fa
cing a basketball hoop over the double doors of his white-shingled garage.
On the driveway beside him, he had a bot that looked like an egg carton. It had long metal arms with big claws at the ends.
“Hey, Chaz,” I called.
Startled, he spun around. His face instantly formed a scowl. I could tell he wasn’t glad to see us.
“What’s up?” Gates said. We pulled Francine over to him.
“What do you want?” Chaz demanded. He pointed at Francine. His face twisted in disgust. “Why did you bring that junk heap here? Don’t you have a big enough garbage can to toss it in?”
“Nice to see you, too,” I said sarcastically.
Chaz’s little blue eyes flashed in his freckled face. “Did you come to apologize to me for what your robot did? Okay. Apology accepted. Now get lost.”
Gates and I didn’t reply. We both narrowed our eyes at Chaz.
“We know what you did,” I said softly.
He blinked. “What I did?” He snickered. “What did I do?”
“You know,” I said.
Gates stared hard at Chaz. “When you went to Livvy’s house and took Francine from the garage … We know you hacked into the programming code.”
“What kind of malware did you use, Chaz?” I demanded. “You infected Francine with some kind of virus. Admit it.”
“That’s sick,” Chaz said, sneering. “You both have sick minds.”
“Admit it,” I repeated. “That day you showed up at my house, you did something to our bot. We know it was you.”
Chaz ran a hand through his spiky red hair. He shook his head. “Why would I do that? Why would I bother with your piece of trash? My bot is so awesome …”
I glanced at the egg carton with arms on the driveway. What was so awesome about it?
“No way I’d hack into your stupid bot,” Chaz insisted. “Watch how incredible my bot is. Just watch. Here’s a lesson in genius bot-building.”
He pulled a controller from his pocket and activated the little bot on the driveway. It began to hum and its long arms shot out in front of it.
Chaz picked up a little basketball from the driveway and placed it between the bot’s clawed hands. Then he pushed another dial on the controller.
The bot tossed the ball up to the basket. It sank through the net with a perfect swisssh sound.
“Three points!” Chaz cried.
He ran after the ball and shoved it back into the bot’s hands. “Again.”
The bot tossed the ball up. This time it hit the rim and bounced off.
“That’s okay,” Chaz said, running after the ball. “No one is perfect.”
He gave the bot another shot. The ball sailed high and dropped through the net.
“Three points!” Chaz shouted. He grabbed his regular-sized ball, spun around—and heaved it at Gates. “Think fast!”
The ball slammed into Gates’s stomach. His eyes bulged as the air shot out of him, and he doubled over, struggling to catch his breath.
I scowled angrily at Chaz. “Why did you do that?”
He shrugged. “Beats me. I guess I don’t like to be accused of things I didn’t do.”
“Well … somebody messed with Francine’s programming,” I said.
“Why would they bother?” Chaz replied. “You’re not going to win any tournaments with a bot that looks like it’s from a grandma movie.”
Gates stood up tall. He was still breathing hard, holding his belly.
“Okay, okay,” I said. “Maybe you didn’t do it. Maybe I was wrong.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw something move. It took me a few seconds to realize it was Francine. I had hit the remote by accident.
I spun around and gasped. And watched our tall bot begin to move forward. She took a hard, clomping step, her steel foot thudding on the driveway. Then another.
“Hey—what’s going on?” Chaz cried. His eyes widened in alarm, and he took a step back.
“Francine—STOP!” I screamed.
But she raised her right leg high. Slammed it down hard. And crushed Chaz’s bot beneath her heavy steel foot.
“I’m sorry we have to have this meeting,” Coach Teague said. His eyes gazed around the room and then stopped at Gates and me.
We were in the gym, sitting on low stools he had brought into his office. My parents were there and so was Gates’s mom. His dad was in Cleveland on a business trip.
“We’re sorry, too,” Dad said. “When we heard that Livvy’s bot destroyed another bot, we were shocked. And upset.”
Gates’s mom had her hands clasped tightly in her lap. She is small and frail-looking, with the same dark hair and dark eyes as Gates. “But it was completely an accident, right?” she said. “I mean, it wasn’t deliberate in any way?”
Coach Teague nodded. “We think it was an accident,” he said, eyes still on me. “Even though the programming shows that the bot was set up to crush objects beneath its feet.”
“Excuse me?” I jumped off my stool. “Gates and I—”
“Your parents ran the programming for us,” Teague interrupted.
Mom shrugged. “I’m so sorry, dear. The bot was programmed to raise its foot and bring it down on any object beneath it. Your dad and I double-checked the memory module.”
“But—but—” I stammered, still on my feet. “Gates and I didn’t program that. We would never—”
“Are we going to be suspended from school?” Gates interrupted.
Coach Teague shook his head. “No. I talked to the Robotics coach at Swanson Academy. He believes you when you say it was an accident. You and Livvy will not be suspended from school.”
Gates let out a whoosh of air. He settled back on his stool.
“But your bot is disqualified,” Teague continued. “Your bot will not be allowed to compete in the tournament.”
I had a heavy feeling in the pit of my stomach. “Does that mean we’re kicked off the Robotics Team?” I asked in a trembling voice.
“No. You can still be a part of it,” Teague said. “You can help the others with their bots.”
Oh, awesome sauce. I can help Rosa with her stupid block-building bot. Yay.
“What if Livvy and I design a whole new bot?” Gates asked.
Teague shook his head. “It’s only a week till the tournament. Do you have any new ideas?”
“Not really,” I said.
“Then just wait. You’ll have a whole year to build something good for next year’s tournament.”
Next year?
Everyone could see how sad and upset Gates and I felt.
Gates’s mom leaned forward on her stool and spoke up. “It seems like they are being punished for something they didn’t do.”
Coach Teague rubbed his chin, as if he was thinking hard about that. “It’s true we don’t know who programmed the bot to crush things. But Livvy and Gates carried the robot across town to Chaz Fremont’s house and allowed the robot to crush his project.”
“We need to solve the mystery of how the bot got programmed to do that,” my dad chimed in. “As you know, Coach Teague, my wife and I are programming experts. And we work with artificial intelligence. When we get home, we’ll take Francine apart and see if we can solve the mystery.”
“I hope you can figure out what happened,” Teague said.
“Gates and I spent months on the memory module, Dad,” I said. “Do you have to take it apart?”
Mom answered for him. “I think that’s the first thing we’ll take apart to study. That’s where the problem has to be.”
Our parents and Coach Teague chatted some more, but I tuned out. Gates had his eyes on the floor. I felt kind of sick.
I mean, he and I aren’t used to being in trouble. In fact, we’re used to being the smart kids in our class, not losers who have to be punished.
I was glad when the meeting finally broke up. We walked out of the gym and down the hall. I could see the other members of our Robotics Team in the doorway of the Art room
. Rosa had a big grin on her face.
I kept my eyes straight forward and acted as if I didn’t see her.
“Did you two get suspended?” she called after us.
“No. Only our robot got suspended,” I called back, and I kept walking.
In the school parking lot, my parents talked with Gates’s mom in front of her car. Gates and I wandered to the fence and watched them.
“My mom doesn’t know anything about computers or robots,” Gates said. “She’s totally confused by all this.”
“We are all confused,” I said.
“She thinks you and I deliberately did something wrong,” Gates murmured. “She hated being called into school.”
“Maybe my parents will figure it out,” I said. “Why don’t you come home with me. We can talk to my mom and dad about what they plan to do.”
So, Gates and I rode home with my parents. It was a silent ride. No one spoke. Mom and Dad had their faraway thoughtful looks on their faces as they stared out the windshield.
Mrs. Bernard greeted us at the door. She had a long-handled mop in her hands. She scrunched up her face when Gates and I entered the house.
“I told you there was something wrong with that loopy machine,” she said. “I knew it was going to get you into trouble.”
I sighed. “Guess you were right, Mrs. B.”
Gates and I grabbed juice boxes from the fridge. We gulped them down, then walked into the garage to say good-bye to Francine. The bot stood stiffly against the wall, arms limp at her sides, head down—as if she knew her fate.
“I thought this bot was going to be a winner,” I said. “But we never even got her egg-cracking skill to work properly.”
My throat tightened up. I almost felt like crying. We had both worked so hard …
“There is something going on we don’t understand,” Gates murmured.
And then Francine raised her head. Her steel mouth dropped open, and that annoying laugh came from somewhere inside her.
“Urk! Urk! Urrrk!”
I could feel the anger burst over my whole body. I let out an angry roar. I gripped both sides of the robot’s head—and ripped it off!
Gates gasped.
Trembling with anger, I held the head in front of me. And the laughter didn’t stop. It poured from the head in my hands.
