“Giving you that dollar forty-two,” he said.
He gathered up the money, put it in the cash register, then gave himself the change.
“That was really nice. Thank you,” said Tesla.
The boys all thanked Duncan, too.
He gave them an “it’s nothing” shrug.
“It’s good to see young people taking an interest in building things,” he said. “It’ll keep you out of trouble.”
I wouldn’t be so sure of that, Nick thought.
Tesla picked up the mini-vibration motors, thanked Duncan again, and led her brother and their friends out of the Wonder Hut.
It was decided that Nick and Tesla would go back to Uncle Newt’s to build robo-bugs while Silas and DeMarco kept an eye on the Treasure Trove.
Actually, it wasn’t so much decided as dictated.
“Why do you always get to tell everybody what to do?” DeMarco asked Tesla, who’d done the dictating.
“Because I’m the one who always knows what to do,” Tesla said. “See you in a couple hours.”
“A couple hours?” DeMarco moaned as Nick and Tesla headed off toward Hero Worship, Incorporated, where they’d left their bikes. “We can’t just stand around for a couple hours. We went nuts with boredom before, and that was barely thirty minutes.”
“Maybe we could get some more frozen yogurt,” Silas suggested.
“We gave Tesla our last three bucks to help pay for those little whatchamacallits, remember?”
“Oh, yeah,” Silas said. “We will go nuts.”
Tesla didn’t want to explain to Uncle Newt why they were in the basement building robotic bugs. Fortunately, she didn’t have to.
When the kids got home, Uncle Newt wasn’t there.
“He must still be out with Dr. Sakurai,” Nick said. “Duncan said he came by to bring her flowers this morning.”
“I knew it,” Tesla muttered with a roll of the eyes. “Newt and Hiroko, sittin’ in a tree …”
Nick shivered. He didn’t want to think about his uncle K-I-S-S-I-N-G.
He changed the subject by telling his sister about the robots Dr. Sakurai was giving out around town.
“What a cool lady,” Tesla said. “I just can’t believe she’d quit a job at the Jet Propulsion Laboratory to come here and sell train sets.” She started down the stairs to the basement laboratory. “Anyway—come on. We’ve gotta get these things built before the Treasure Trove closes.”
“Don’t worry,” Nick said. “I’ve already got a blueprint in my head.”
“Me, too,” said Tesla.
She just hoped their blueprints were the same.
They weren’t.
“LED lights for eyes? Why?” Nick said. “That doesn’t make any sense for a bug.”
“So? Dobek has a bug phobia. An irrational fear. It doesn’t have to make sense. We just need him to have a reaction.”
“But the reaction can’t be, ‘How’d those weird little toys get in here?’ It has to be, ‘AHHHHHHH! Bugs!’ ”
“Without the glowing eyes, he might not even notice the bug at all.”
Nick looked skeptical.
“Of course, maybe the grape jelly would do the trick,” Tesla said, thinking out loud.
“Grape jelly?” said Nick.
“Yeah. So the robot’s dark and kind of shimmery like a roach and leaves a gooey mess behind when someone stomps on it. Maybe the glimmer of it would be enough to catch Dobek’s attention.”
“Don’t you think a bunch of jelly’s going to mess up our wiring?”
“We wouldn’t need a bunch.”
“One drop would be too much!”
“Maybe,” Tesla said. “Maybe not.”
“All right. Fine,” Nick spat. “You can have the glowing eyes…if we lose the jelly.”
“Done.”
They shook on it.
“Now,” Tesla said, “I was thinking we could make the bodies out of cardboard.”
“What? Bottle caps would be a million times better.”
“Bottle caps? Those wouldn’t work at all.”
“Would so!”
“Would not!”
They argued for a while until Tesla suggested they cut the heads of toothbrushes and use those. Nick thought that was brilliant.
Then they started arguing about the legs.
An hour later, Nick and Tesla had three glowing-eyed, toothbrush-bodied, wire-legged, jelly-free robo-bugs.
They also had twenty minutes to get them to the Treasure Trove before Dobek’s mysterious buyer “Anton” showed up.
“Go, go, go!” Tesla said as she pushed her brother up the basement stairs.
“I’m going, I’m going, I’m going!” said Nick.
“Where, where, where?” said Uncle Newt.
He was dumping the contents of a can of Spaghettios into a huge pot on the stove top.
“Oh, nowhere,” said Tesla. “Where have you been all day?”
Uncle Newt clutched his hands to his chest—apparently forgetting that one of them held an open can. Sludgy red tomato sauce spilled onto his white lab coat.
“Heaven,” he said with a sigh.
Tesla groaned.
“We’ve really gotta go,” said Nick.
“Enjoy nowhere!” Uncle Newt called after them as they bolted out the door. “But be back by five!”
It was already 4:44.
When Nick and Tesla had made their way downtown again, they found Silas and DeMarco still in their stakeout location outside It’s-Froze-Yo!
DeMarco was trying to stand on Silas’s shoulders.
“Stay still,” DeMarco said as he wriggled and writhed on Silas’s back, his hands wrapped around his friend’s forehead.
“I am still,” Silas said.
DeMarco managed to get a foot up on one of Silas’s broad shoulders, but it quickly slid off again.
“I told you this would be easier if I knelt down first,” said Silas.
“But you’d never get up again once I was on your shoulders.”
“Yes, I would.”
“Uhhh … are you guys trying to get a better look into the Treasure Trove?” Nick asked.
“Nope,” said Silas.
“We were just bored,” said DeMarco.
DeMarco let go of Silas’s head and dropped to the ground.
“Well, thanks for staying inconspicuous,” Tesla said.
“You’re welcome,” Silas said with a smile.
DeMarco hadn’t missed the sarcasm, though.
“Hey, you guys were gone for, like, forever,” he said, “and there was nothing to see up there but people wandering around looking at junk.”
Nick and Tesla gazed up at the Treasure Trove. The lights were still on, but no one was in sight.
“Has Anton showed up?” Nick asked.
DeMarco shook his head. “We don’t think so. No one’s gone inside in, like, ten minutes.”
“How much time do we have?” Silas asked.
“Not much,” Nick told him. “Maybe five minutes.”
Silas’s eyes went wide. “What? Well, let’s hurry up, then! If that Anthony guy gets his hands on the comic book before we do—”
“Anton,” Nick corrected.
“We’re not ‘getting our hands on the comic book,’ remember?” Tesla said. “We just want to be sure Dobek has it before we go to Sgt. Feiffer.”
“Yeah, right, whatever.” Silas looked down at the little doohickeys Nick was pulling from his jacket pocket. “Is that them? How’d they turn out?”
“See for yourself,” Tesla said.
She leaned in close to her brother’s cupped hands and connected the wires on the robo-bugs. The little robots began to vibrate, their eyes glowing red.
“Cool!” said Silas.
“They look fakey,” said DeMarco.
“Fakey?” said Tesla.
“I told you the light-up eyes were too much,” said Nick.
“Fakey?” Tesla said again.
&nb
sp; DeMarco shrugged. “Sorry. They do. There’s no way Dobek’s going to be fooled by those things. Not for a second.”
“Well, I think he’s gonna freak,” said Silas.
DeMarco shook his head. “He’s not gonna freak.”
“He is gonna freak,” said Silas.
“He’s not gonna freak,” said DeMarco.
“He is gonna freak.”
“He’s not gonna freak.”
“He is gonna freak.”
“He’s not gonna—”
“Hey!” Tesla barked. “There’s only one way to find out, right?”
“Right!” said Silas.
He snatched the robo-bugs out of Nick’s hand and took off running.
“What are you doing?” a stunned Nick yelled after him.
Silas was already halfway across the street.
Car tires screeched. A horn honked. But Silas just kept going.
“Come back!” Tesla called out. “We need to discuss the plan!”
Silas reached the steps to the Treasure Trove and started bounding up two at a time.
“Hide!” DeMarco cried. He grabbed Nick and Tesla and dragged them along with him as he ducked behind a nearby trash can. “Dobek’s looking!”
The three kids crouched down and hid. After a few seconds, they risked a look up at the Treasure Trove, DeMarco peeking around one side of the garbage can, Nick around the other, and Tesla peering over the top.
Dobek was still standing at one of his store’s open windows, looking down at the street. He didn’t seem to notice them. Eventually, he turned away and disappeared.
“Now what?” Nick said.
Tesla stood up. “Now we just have to hope that—”
“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”
The kids looked up at the Treasure Trove again.
Dobek was running past the windows waving his hands in the air.
“Ugh! No! Horrible! Nasty! Legs! Eyes! Scurrying! Dirty!” he shrieked. “EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”
“Well, how about that?” DeMarco said. “He freaked.”
Silas rushed out of the Treasure Trove and started hurrying down the steps to the sidewalk at a pace just shy of a scramble. There was something flat and rectangular and yellowish clutched in his hands.
A manila envelope.
When he reached the bottom of the stairs, Silas turned right and rushed up the street. No one seemed to notice him as he barreled past and disappeared around the corner. Everyone was looking up at the Treasure Trove.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! Icky icky evil! Die die DIE!”
“Come on,” Tesla said.
She hurried away, Nick and DeMarco behind her. They turned at the first corner and headed down the street Silas had used for his getaway. It was a lot darker and dirtier than Main Street—the only businesses on the block were a hole-in-the-wall convenience store and a grungy little laundromat—and Silas was nowhere to be seen.
“Where’d he go?” Nick said.
“I don’t know,” said Tesla. “He’s gotta be around here somewhere. He’s not that faAAAAAAAA!”
A large, shadowy shape was lunging at her from a nearby alley.
“Now I’ve got you meddling kids!” it cried.
Tesla and Nick and DeMarco screamed.
The large, shadowy shape—Silas—laughed and laughed.
Tesla folded her arms across her chest and scowled at him. “And to think just a couple hours ago I called you a genius.”
“And you were right,” Silas said, beaming.
He held up the manila envelope he’d taken from the Treasure Trove.
“Keep that out of sight,” Tesla snapped, shooing Silas back into the alley. “You weren’t supposed to take it. You were just supposed to make sure the comic book was really there.”
Silas’s smile faded as his friends followed him into the alley, looking like they wanted to throw him into the nearest Dumpster.
“I wasn’t going to just leave it for Antonio,” he protested.
“Anton,” Nick said.
Silas ignored him. “I had a chance to get it, so I got it.”
“Did Dobek see you?” Tesla asked.
Silas shook his head, his grin returning. “Nah. The envelope was right under the cash register, like you and Nick guessed, and Dobek was too busy screaming about devil roaches to notice me running in and grabbing it.” He waggled his eyebrows at DeMarco. “Told ya he’d freak.”
“I know, I know,” said DeMarco.
“So you’ve seen the comic?” Tesla asked. “It’s okay?”
“Oh. Well. No,” Silas said. “I haven’t checked it yet. Guess I’d better, huh? It still needs to be in mint condition to bring in the big bucks. I swear, if Dobek so much as left a thumbprint on the cover, I’m going back there with a whole swarm of robot bugs.”
After a quick glance up and down the alley, Silas opened the envelope—the top flap was unsealed—and slowly, carefully slid out its contents.
“Ta-da!” he started to say.
It came out “Ta-chuh?”
The kids were looking down at a black-and-white picture of a small, smiling man leaning against R2-D2, the famous movie droid. Written in cursive in the top left corner were the words, “Hello! Bleep bloop! Kenny Baker.”
“Who’s Kenny Baker?” said Tesla.
DeMarco pointed at the picture. “He’s the actor inside R2-D2. Duh.”
“There’s an actor in R2-D2?” said Nick. “He’s not a real robot?”
DeMarco fixed him with an “are you kidding or crazy?” stare.
“Uhhh, no. R2-D2 is not really a robot.”
Nick wilted.
“I feel so betrayed.”
Silas tilted the envelope and gave it a shake, but nothing else came out.
“Oh, noooooooo,” Silas moaned.
“I can’t believe it,” Tesla said. “You grabbed the wrong package.”
“But, but, but … look!”
Silas flipped the envelope over and pointed to two words written on the other side.
ANTON BISCHOFF
“See?” Silas said. “It’s for Antoine!”
Nick didn’t bother correcting him this time. Instead, he turned to his sister.
“You know, we never did hear Dobek say anything about a comic book, Tez. He just mentioned having something Anton wanted. Maybe the guy collects Star Wars stuff.”
Tesla slapped a hand across her forehead. “Which would mean we were wrong about Dobek. We set out to catch a thief … and now we’re thieves ourselves.”
Nick nodded. “It sure looks that way.”
“Not,” she said, “good.”
“Yeah. But it could be worse,” DeMarco said. “At least we didn’t get cau—”
“Nick, Tesla!” a man yelled. “And … umm … the other two!”
The kids spun around to find Sgt. Feiffer of the Half Moon Bay Police Department blocking the entrance to the alley with his little three-wheeled “squad car.” (Budget cuts had forced the town to sell off all its police vehicles except for a single meter reader’s cart.)
“What are you up to back there?” Sgt. Feiffer shouted, peering at them from the driver’s seat (which was actually the only seat the cart had).
Silas quickly slipped the envelope behind his back.
Nick, Tesla, and DeMarco all spoke at once.
“We’re looking for rats,” said Nick.
“We’re looking for loose change,” said Tesla.
“We’re trying to find the sunglasses I borrowed from my dad and then lost when I was skateboarding this afternoon, and he’s going to kill me if I can’t find them but I’m pretty sure they’re around here someplace,” said DeMarco.
Sgt. Feiffer looked confused.
He was a small, mild-mannered man with balding gray hair and a fondness for short-sleeved work shirts and wide, striped ties. If Nick hadn’t known he was Half Moon Bay’s one-man police force, he would’ve assumed he was an insurance salesman or an accountant or
maybe a substitute teacher.
“Uhh … I guess we’re kind of killing three birds with one stone,” Tesla said. “You know. As long as we’re looking for the sunglasses.”
“Got it,” Sgt. Feiffer said. “Why rats, though?”
“Well … umm … you know …”
“Rats are cool!” DeMarco blurted out.
“Yeah, yeah! Cool!” said Nick.
“So cool,” said Tesla.
“The coolest,” said Silas.
Sgt. Feiffer gaped at them a moment, then shook his head and chuckled.
“If you say so,” he said, adding a muttered “kids today.”
“So,” Tesla said, “how’s the big investigation going?”
Sgt. Feiffer threw Silas a quizzical look.
“What?” Silas said, startled. Then he realized what the look meant. “Oh. I told them all about the robbery.”
He still had his hands behind his back, and sweat had begun beading on his face as he shifted his weight nervously from foot to foot.
“Well,” Sgt. Feiffer said, turning back to Tesla, “to be honest, I don’t have much to work with. I spoke to April Barnett—the woman who sold Mr. Kuskie the comic book at the estate sale—and I believe her when she says she had no idea it was valuable. When I told her what it was worth, she nearly fainted. I also spoke to the only other person of interest in the case. I don’t want to name names, but—”
“You’re talking about Mr. Dobek,” Tesla said.
Sgt. Feiffer chuckled.
“Boy. Not a big one for keeping secrets, are you?” he said to Silas.
Silas just smiled weakly and wiped the sweat out of his eyes with his free hand.
“Does Mr. Dobek have an alibi for last night?” Tesla asked.
“If he didn’t, I wouldn’t tell you. But he does, so I will,” Sgt. Feiffer said. “Yes. He has an alibi. He went up to Sonoma County last night for a concert. The Summer Reggae Regatta at the Mountain Pass Winery. Spent the night at a La Quinta Inn—for which he has a receipt—and got a speeding ticket rushing back down here in the morning to open his store. I’ve confirmed that with the Highway Patrol. Alibis don’t get much more rock solid than that. It’s funny, though …”
“What?” Nick said.
Nick and Tesla's Robot Army Rampage Page 6
