The Impossible Race: Cragbridge Hall, Volume 3 (24 page)

“You
made
Jenkins?” Derick asked, keeping the conversation going and not giving Carol a chance to spoil anything.

“Yes,” Jess said, her face reddening in a proud blush. “And I keep upgrading him. I spend the last month of every semester making him a little better than he was.”

“So, what does he do?” Carol asked. “Besides awesome dance moves?”

“Um, excuse me young lady,” Jenkins said. “I’m right here.” He waved. “You can ask me.”

Jess looked at her robot on the desktop. “Go ahead and explain, Jenkins.”

He bowed slightly. “I do whatever Jess wants me to. I proofread her papers, go through her files and weed out old or corrupt ones, organize her collection of boy-band videos—”

“Oh, I totally have a collection too,” Carol interrupted, her eyes dancing. “Do you have the new one from the Electri City?” She broke into song, “The way you walk. The way you laugh. It makes my heart beat twice as fast.”

Jess giggled, then looked to the floor.

Jenkins cleared his throat—as if he needed to. “I also clean the lab and do routine maintenance on several of the school’s robots, such as the lawn bots.”

“Do you want to show them, Jenkins?” Jess asked.

“I’d be delighted.” He jumped off the table, landing perfectly stable. He walked over to a group of closets and raised his hand. The door opened. He obviously had the code for it. A cylinder rolled out. It was about three feet wide and seven inches tall. Jenkins cocked his elbow and out came a screwdriver. He removed several screws and a panel, revealing the blades for mowing, the extendable tubes for aerating, and the long blades on the side that trimmed. In a matter of minutes, he had sharpened the blades and oiled the joints, then closed the top. Jenkins slapped his hands together. “And now it’s ready to clean the grounds.” With a gesture, he sent the mower bot back into the closet.

“Impressive,” Maria said, her long dark hair bouncing as she nodded.

“Jess and I are friends,” Jenkins said, and gestured toward his creator. “But we aren’t like those pairs you hear about where the robot and the human are each other’s only friend and that’s all they ever talk to. I mean, I sometimes hang out with the duct vacuums—even the welders. I’m a highly social, self-actualized robot.”

“You’ve got a great personality,” Maria said, and reached down and shook his hand.

“It’s all her fault,” Jenkins said, and pointed at Jess. She blushed.

“So you did the building and programming?” Nia asked.

“Yes,” Jess said. “He has very versatile movement and can learn new jobs, so it’s usually just a matter of teaching him.”

“Is he like the security bots at all?” Piper asked.

“In some ways,” Jess said. “They learn their routines and protect the grounds or halls. They can stun if things get out of hand. Jenkins doesn’t do that. I could get in trouble if I built a robot like that. Jenkins is just helpful.”

“Thank you,” Jenkins said and bowed.

“Go ahead and show them around,” Jess said to her small companion. “I’ll just finish up a bit and show you the designs I’ve finished for the next challenge.”

Jenkins nodded and began a tour of the robotics lab. He showed them the different parts and programs, and the collection of bots he did the maintenance for. “And this,” Jenkins said, “is the Ping-Pong table. Would anyone care to challenge me?”

Malcolm snickered. “I will.” He reached over and picked up a paddle in his large hand.

“Fantastic,” Jenkins said, then walked across the room and triggered a door that opened up to some sort of supply closet. “Quad 12, could you bring me my shell?”

A machine that looked like a bench with moving legs walked over to a shelf. The top half of a humanoid robot used its arms to crawl off the shelf and onto the quad. It had a red body and head, but a hole where its face should be. A small black bow tie was painted on its neck to match Jenkins’s.

“The quads are used for moving heavy objects,” Jenkins explained. “They can go up and down stairs or across uneven terrain. And they can carry up to 500 pounds and run roughly twenty miles per hour. But my shell is just for me. Don’t be jealous.” He let out a quiet laugh.

The quad brought the robot torso over to the table. Jenkins then pushed a button and the shell’s chest opened up. Jenkins stepped inside and rode a small elevator to the head. He sat in the face and took over a set of small controls. “I’m ready for you.” He moved his right arm and the torso’s larger arm reached and grabbed the paddle from the table.

Just then, Jess walked by. “Oh, no,” she said. “I should have warned you about that.”

Malcolm served and Jenkins moved the arm so that it bumped the ball in an arc that landed on the other side of the table. Malcolm easily knocked it back. They went back and forth several times.

“Not bad,” Malcolm said.

“Are you warmed up?” Jenkins asked.

“Yeah,” Malcolm said.

“Serve it up then, challenger,” Jenkins said.

Malcolm smiled and knocked the ball harder than he had before. It bounced once and Jenkins struck it back with surprising speed. Malcolm wasn’t anywhere close to returning it.

“Oh, you’re that kind of robot, huh?” Malcolm said, as if he played Ping-Pong with other robots.

“If you are referring to the kind that can beat you silly, then yes,” Jenkins said.

Carol giggled.

They played for another ten minutes. Sometimes, Jenkins would slow up and let Malcolm return a few, but then he would strike the ball with such speed that Malcolm didn’t stand a chance.

“Wow, you’re good,” Malcolm told the bot. “Have you ever thrown a football?”

“No,” Jenkins said.

“I’ll bring one in tomorrow,” Malcolm promised. “And a baseball bat too. I bet you could
smash
a ball.”

“I would be happy to play,” Jenkins said, nodding at the Southerner.

“I’m ready to show you what I have,” Jess said. She waved the group over to the other side of the lab. She lifted up a small robot, about the size of a fist, with a propeller on top. “I know you’ve been involved in the planning, but this is one of the robots I’ve designed for the challenge. I built a simple prototype.”

“In two days?” Derick asked.

“Yeah,” Jess said. “I was able to adapt some previous designs. Everyone has to. Plus, we were required to turn in our designs. We get points for them, and the Race doesn’t give us much time. And Anjum and I talked. We thought we should design quickly and use our time practicing. I can make adjustments as needed.”

“She is quite amazing,” Anjum said in everyone’s ears. “But we need amazing.”

Jess continued, “We’ll use a few of them for the initial stages of the challenge, to get the cameras set up and linked to the elevators. They aren’t large enough to carry anything substantial though.” She pointed to a screen. “You’ll use a virtual cockpit like this one.” The screen showed several levers, controls, and dials. “I’ll let Anjum decide who drives what.”

“I will be interested in any history or talent any of you have with robots or games similar to these,” Anjum added over the sync.

Jess moved over and pulled out what looked like a car about the size of a shoe. “I think for most of the challenge we should use these. I’ve adapted a previous design and made about four of them. They’ve got wheels for speed. We shouldn’t have any uneven terrain. They also have arms.” She flicked her finger and the metal over the wheels extended. They were like two slender steel hands with three long fingers. They rose on thin arms. “They can extend up to six feet, so we should be able to reach anything we need. Also, they have a pair of drills.” Jess flicked her finger and two thick drills came out of the front of the car and spun, moving back and forth. “They can create enough of a space for the vehicle itself to get through.”

“That’s nice. We don’t have to worry about doors,” Nia said.

Jess blushed.

“And they have these.” She flicked a finger and two tiny cannons emerged from the sides of the vehicle. They rotated in every direction. “The details for the challenge said we might need them. So they are there, just in case. I don’t really have much you can shoot for practice, other than these nuts and bolts. The virtual ones will shoot tranquilizers.”

“Have I ever told you how much I like to shoot things?” Malcolm asked.

“It sounds like you may get your chance to show us,” Piper said.

“The cars also have suction tubes on the bottom,” Jess explained, “enough they can drive up walls. However, you can’t move super fast or the suction isn’t enough to keep you attached to the wall.”

“You are a genius,” Anjum said.

“I’m so glad you know how to do this,” Abby said. “The best thing I’ve ever engineered was my entry in the egg-drop contest.”

Everyone looked at her.

“You know, that contest where they give you, like, bags and paper and straws and you have to create something to protect your egg from breaking when it’s dropped off the school roof?”

No one immediately answered.

“I remember,” Derick said. “And I think I beat you.”

“I got second,” Abby said. “But that’s beside the point. Sorry for interrupting.”

“Anjum will assign you your robots, and then you need to practice using the virtual cockpits to control them,” Jess explained. “I think their designs are solid, so winning is going to depend on our ability to control them and work together.”

They had to win. They had caught Mr. Silverton and Mr. Sul. Now the primary job was to finish the Race, get the key, and protect the secret. That is, if they had caught the right guys, and they both hadn’t been set up.

Walled In

Abby approached the Mold, the visor from her grandfather in her hand. She had left robot practice early. That hadn’t thrilled Anjum, but she had waited for two days to schedule a time in the Mold. The administration had opened it to anyone who wanted to try the minotaur challenge, and it had been completely booked up.

She didn’t really know what to do. Abby walked into an outer room attached to the Mold, the control center. Her rings were scanned and her identity checked against her reservation time, then she was admitted. She approached a console with two screens. She could choose one of several preset molds, or create one of her own. In some ways, it was similar to the machine she used to create the array of metal objects.

Her heartstone began to vibrate, somehow communicating with the Mold. Abby heard muffled words and quickly pulled the visor over her head.

“You’ll have to forgive me,” her grandfather said, inside the visor. It was just him, standing in his usual blazer in front of a completely blank, white background. “Using the Mold is going to require a bit of preparation.” Her heartstone continued to vibrate and settings on the display of the Mold began to change. They were moving to Grandpa’s presets.

Abby removed her visor to take a look. Through a large window, she could see inside the Mold. First the floor and sides heated up. She could see them turning a dark red. The plastic that had been molded there began to melt.

“While this environment forms,” Grandpa said, as Abby hurried to put her visor back on, “I want you to think of your past. What challenges have you overcome?” He waited. This seemed weird. Was this some sort of therapy? Remembering her last year, Abby thought of several difficult experiences.

“Now,” Grandpa continued, “think about the challenges you currently face.” A series of quick and vivid thoughts jumped to the surface at that prompt.

“How do you hope these challenges will end?” Grandpa asked. That was easy. Abby thought of her successes: stopping Muns, winning the Race, gaining the key, saving the secret, and saving her brother.

“How do you fear these challenges may end?”

That also came quickly to mind, unfortunately.

Abby lifted the visor to peek at the Mold. All of the plastic had melted and covered the floor of the Mold. A large mechanical plow moved across the floor, shoveling the plastic into a large bin at one end.

Thick steel rebar rose out of the floor. Mechanical arms on tracks lowered from the ceiling and twisted and moved the rods into holes in the foundation. She could see them twist in to be secure. Then came whirring and clinking. Hundreds of machines ran across more tracks, releasing plastic and sculpting it around the metal foundations. It was a symphony of creation. They had only been at their work for a few minutes when the metal window coverings lowered. Abby tried several times to sync up to the machine to raise them, but they would not move. Perhaps Grandpa didn’t want her to see what she was about to face.

After a long wait, the screens indicated that the environment was ready. Abby had no idea what to expect, but she made sure her visor was on tight and stepped in.

She had moved from a control room to a wide open field. The grass was long and green, a collection of trees reached high with their branches and leaves. The sun brought a warmth, but not a brutal summer heat. Perfect.

“Abby,” Grandpa said, walking in the long grass beside her, “you have endless possibilities.” He pointed to a beautiful horizon. “Those endless possibilities are your future.” He took a few more steps, leaning on his cane. “But the strange part about endless possibilities is that they do not always look beautiful. Sometimes they are disguised.”