Sprockets Read Free Page B

had been ordered for Jim, but were a size too small. They fitted Sprockets perfectly. Mrs. Bailey found a tiny wrench and a screwdriver, which she placed in one of the pockets. Into the other pockets went a small can of oil, a polishing rag, and one of Jim’s handkerchiefs.
    â€œNow remember,” she cautioned, “if you want the doctor to like you, you’ll have to keep your fastenings tight, and your joints oiled so they won’t squeak.”
    â€œYes, ma’am.”
    â€œAnd you must stay brightly polished at all times. Don’t ever let me catch you with even one speck of dust or a spot of rust on you.”
    â€œYes, ma’am. No, ma’am.”
    â€œIt isn’t that the doctor doesn’t really like robots, but he hasn’t got used to the idea of you yet. He’s only an overgrown boy.”
    Sprockets said plaintively, “I wish I could be a real boy instead of a robot.”
    â€œPooh and nonsense! Boys are always hungry or dirty or aching somewhere; they have to sleep nine hours every night, and it takes years and years to beat an education into their craniums—because their craniums are made of solid ivory instead of positronic circuits. See? You’ll never have their worries. You can learn anything in the world in practically no time by running a tape through your head.”
    â€œYes, ma’am,” said Sprockets. “But it isn’t quite as easy as it sounds. An educational tape sends a hot buzzing through all my circuits. Just imagine how it is when twenty trillion circuits get buzzingly hot all at the same time.”
    â€œDoes it make you a little feverish?”
    â€œOh, ma’am, it makes me feel positively fried.”
    â€œThen I’d better get some ice packs ready for your head, because you’re going to start frying as soon as I can have some educational tapes delivered. You don’t want to be sent back to the factory. So if you live with Barnabas, you’ll have to be educated practically to a brown crisp and know nearly all.”
    She went to the phone and began checking off the tapes she felt were necessary.
    â€œFirst, languages. Latin, of course, and French, Spanish, German, and Greek. Barnabas will insist on Greek. Then the ologies, including extras like meteorology, craniology, minerology, cosmology—and I do think a little numerology and astrology would help us wonderfully. Then there are the onomies. Now let me see. Agronomy, astronomy, Deuteronomy—Oh, dear, I’m getting a little mixed—”
    She was still busy on the telephone, ordering enough tapes to sizzle an army of robots, when Jim and Dr. Bailey rushed back into the laboratory.
    â€œIt was a real flying saucer!” Jim cried excitedly. “Only it was all purple—going like a purple streak—”
    â€œâ€”right overhead,” gasped the doctor. “Bright purple! Most remarkable—”
    â€œâ€”and the camera jammed and we didn’t get a picture of it. Going like a purple streak. Straight for Mexico—”
    â€œStraight for Mexico! Quick, Miranda,” the doctor begged. “Let me have the phone! I’ve got to call Salazar!”
    The doctor almost snatched the receiver from Mrs. Bailey’s hand. He dialed for the operator. “Long distance!” he shouted. “Hurry! This is a matter of momentous magnitude! I want to talk to Don José Salazar at the Rancho Diablo, Monteverde, Mexico.”

    Sprockets stood respectfully to one side, his little hands clasped patiently while he watched and listened. He tried to remain silent until he was needed, as a proper robot should. But finally his curiosity got the better of him.
    He turned on his whisper button and asked Jim, “Who is Don José Salazar?”
    â€œHe’s Dad’s friend in Mexico,” Jim whispered back. “He watches for saucers too, and takes wonderful pictures in color. We’re hoping he can get