A Crazy Case of Robots Read Free Page A

true. I’ve made the perfect machine!”
    “So what are you going to do with it now?” Giles wanted to know.
    “I thought that was obvious,” said Tina with an impatient scowl. “You know how slow things have been for the genius business lately! Times are tough, Barnes! People are cutting back on geniuses! But the Tinatron 1000 is just what we need to put us back on top! We’ll make a fortune! Here, look at this.”
    She held up the front page of the local newspaper. There was a large photograph of Tina and the robot accepting their award at the science fair, and underneath was a long article. The headline read: “PURE GENIUS!”
    “The calls should be pouring in any time now,” said Tina with supreme confidence.
    “Well, this is good news,” said Kevin cheerfully.
    “And Tinatron is just the first step,” Tina said. “With its help, I’ll build a whole battalion of robot workers!”
    “More robots?” asked Giles. “But why?”
    “Why?” said Tina in exasperation. “Barnes, these robots are a hundred times better than people! They’re faster, smarter, they don’t get in silly moods! And they never make mistakes. Not one! Mark my words, before long they’re going to replace people!”
    When Giles came home after school, he was greeted by the dainty clink of china and the low burble of voices from the living room. He kicked off his muddy running shoes and walked in to have a look.
    Giles gaped. It was one of the weirdest things he’d ever seen.
    His mother was sitting forward in an armchair, a cup of tea in her hand, chattering away eagerly. Opposite herwas Tinatron, reclined comfortably in the sofa, a china cup held delicately between two rubber-glove fingers.
    “So the Templehof math formulas are essentially useless?” Mrs Barnes said.
    “Yes,” Tinatron replied. “My data is always flawless.”
    “Remarkable,” said Mrs Barnes. “Just remarkable. You must have incredible skill at mathematics.”
    “That is correct,” said the robot.
    Mrs Barnes and Tinatron were so engrossed in their conversation that they didn’t notice Giles at all. He watched, breathless, as the robot lifted the teacup to its metal face as if to drink, but then set it back on its saucer.
    “Oh, hello Giles,” said his mother, beaming. “I didn’t hear you come in. Tinatron and I are just having a fantastic discussion.”
    “I see,” said Giles tightly.
    Obviously Tinatron and his mother had hit it off brilliantly. There they were, guzzling tea and chatting away like best friends! He didn’t like it one little bit, even though he couldn’t quite explain why.
    “Now then,” said Mrs Barnes, turning back to the robot, “could you go over the Orion equations again?”
    “Certainly,” said the robot. “It’s very straightforward. Let us begin with—”
    Scowling, Giles backed out of the room and thudded up the stairs. In the doorway to his bedroom, he froze. He barely recognized his room.
    It had been tidied.
    He’d never thought of his bedroom as unusually messy—he’d seen far worse at some of his friends’ houses. But this wasn’t just an ordinary tidying up. The bed was so tightly made, you could have used it as a trampoline. There was nothing on the floor—no dirty clothes, no comics or books scattered around. He walked in warily, as if he were afraid of setting off some horrible booby trap.
    There wasn’t a speck of dust on his shelves. The posters no longer drooped. All his books had been arranged alphabetically. He opened a drawer. His socks had been tightly coiled and arranged by colour. It was frightening.
    But what really stopped Giles dead in his tracks was his model airplane kit—the one he’d been doggedly working on for weeks.
    The bomber rested in the middle of the desk, completely made, right down to the decals on the wings.
    Tinatron!
    He rushed back downstairs into the living room.
    “You built my model airplane!” he shouted at the robot.
    “Giles!” said Mrs Barnes. “What