The Walls Have Eyes Read Free Page A

Sim said, turning toward them with the typewriter in his arms. “Where would you like me to put it?”
    â€œJust put it back,” William said. “I don’t need it today.”
    The old man lifted it back into place with the same impossibly elastic ease. Then he turned to go. “Pay no mind. I’m just a bot,” he said sadly to Martin as he passed. “It doesn’t matter if
I
understand what’s going on.”
    â€œSo this was another one of your experiments,” Martin fumed when Sim was gone. “Look, if you wanna laugh at me, go ahead and laugh. You don’t need an excuse.”
    â€œI’m not laughing at you,” William said. “I thought we might both learn something. When you couldn’t reach the typewriter, all you needed to do was ask your bot to take it down. Why didn’t you think of that?”
    Martin swiveled in place. Chip stood behind him, up to his pasterns in paper stacks. When his dark eyes met Martin’s, his ears folded back in a friendly greeting, and his tail set up a confetti whirl.
    â€œStop it! Stop him!” William cried. “He’s messing up my system!”
    â€œOh, forget your system,” Martin said, ruffling Chip’s ears. “A dog’s gotta wag.”
    â€œHe doesn’t wag because he’s a dog,” William said. “He wags because you want him to. He’s a modified bot—a super-machine. His programming must be extensive. You’re keeping him from reaching his full potential by encouraging him to be a dog.”
    Martin turned on her. “What is it with you people? Why do you keep harping on about him not being a dog? Let’s go, Chip. You’re messing up her system.”
    William followed him out into the hall. “Maybe he’s an important machine,” she said earnestly. “A much more powerful bot.”
    â€œHe’s powerful like he is,” Martin said as he turned the corner. The sterile hallway stretched out before him, its floor tiles yellow-green and bilious. The sense of being back at the school sapped his spirits. Where was that cafeteria, anyway?
    William persisted. “But he could be so much more!”
    Another corner, and floor tiles that were blue with brown flecks. He was on the right track now. Down the hall, a door stood open, with white wheeled trestle tables beyond it. Martin spotted his knapsack with a feeling of relief. I can’t wait to get out of this place, he thought.
    â€œChip’s my dog,” he said. “Maybe that’s not good enough for you, but it’s good enough for me. If you think I’m gonna let you change him into some kind of monster battle bot, you’re out of your mind.”
    â€œI don’t know if he’s supposed to be a battle machine,” William said. “We need to find out what he is.”
    Chip gave a yelp and dashed past Martin. Martin turned to see what had scared the dog. William was holding a reset chip in her hand.
    â€œNo way!” Martin said, snatching the chip from her. “Nobody resets him. He hates it.”
    William sighed. “You’ve anthropomorphized him.”
    â€œWhatever.” Martin made his way over to the supplies and tossed the chip into his knapsack. “You had all afternoon to check him out while he was charging, so don’t think I’m gonna feel bad for you now.”
    â€œBut I didn’t,” William protested. “I was in class. Rudy told Sim not to release your bot to you, but when Sim heard Rudy praise you for being a credit to your designer, Sim decided he didn’t need to obey the release order anymore. Sim has design flaws. He doesn’t always do what he’s supposed to.”
    Martin thought of the schizophrenic welcome the old bot had given him at the tunnel entrance. “Yeah, I kinda noticed,” he said.
    â€œRudy built him when he was ten,” William went on. “I would have done a