The Wicked Cyborg Read Free Page B

important you have, as a growing boy, your minimum daily requirement of vitamins and minerals as recommended by the Barnum Board of Ag—”
    “I’m not growing, Monique. I really think I’ve ceased growing, attained my full height.”
    “Ho ho, always kidding, Master Tad.” One of the robot’s several arms swung up and turned on a chest faucet.
    Slurp! Slurp!
    “Spoon,” advised Tad, watching the vitamin fluid spilling onto his neolin floor.
    “To be sure.” Another arm brought a spoon under the flowing faucet. When the spoon was filled, the faucet was twisted shut. “Swallow this like a good boy, Master Tad.”
    He hesitated before slouching forward and allowing the solicitous mechanism to thrust the spoon between his lips. “Okay, thanks,” he said swallowing, “and now if—”
    “Wouldn’t you like a hearty cup of cocosub?”
    “Nope, no.”
    “Neareal egg nog?” Monique tapped the third faucet down on the left side.
    “Nothing more, thanks.” Reaching out, he gave the robot a polite shove in the direction of the open door. He faked a yawn. “Tired, ought to hop into bed. Night.”
    “Sleeping potion?”
    “No need.”
    “I’ll say good night, then, Master Tad.”
    “Splendid, do that.”
    “Good night.” Avoiding the spill of vitamin fluid, Monique wheeled out of the room.
    Tad moved to shut the door. The door, however, came swinging back at him.
    “Ha! So there you are, you pigeon-toed mammy-jammer!” boomed Hohl as he followed the door into the room.
    “Why shouldn’t I be here?” Tad took several steps backward. “This is my room.”
    “Don’t go trying any of your beady-eyed logic with me, my lad!” Hohl’s thick forefinger jabbed at the narrow corridor of air which separated him from the young man. “All is known!”
    “All is known about what?”
    The bulky estate manager made a grab, caught hold of Tad’s arm. “We’ll just march down to the underground lab,” he announced in a substantial voice, “and see what kind of monkeyshines you’ve been up to!”

Chapter 5
    Hohl’s spell of anger did not subside. He continued to shout and snort while dragging Tad through the mansion, down the broad staircase and out into the night. “Treat you like a frapping prince! Then you go and stick a poniard in my metaphorical—”
    “I’ve been tinkering, that’s all.” Tad finally managed to wrest free of the bigger man’s clutch. “Are you trying to tell me puttering around is some kind of—”
    “Enough of your snurly backchat!” Hohl was on the verge of running. “Certain things are forbidden! Putzing around in Cosmo’s lab happens to be one of them!”
    “Why? There’s no possible way I can hurt any—”
    “Rule! It’s a rule!”
    “You should have told me, then.”
    “Anyone with an ounce of sense would know the harping rule!” They’d reached the warehouse and Hohl unlocked the main door.
    “I think,” said Tad as he followed the estate manager into the darkened dome, “I better get in touch with my Cousin Joshua tomorrow. There’s really no reason I can’t be allowed to—”
    “Joshua! Oh, yeah, sure, certainly. That’ll be splendid!” Hohl gave a series of barking laughs. “If he finds out what I’ve let you get away with, all our norks will be on the block!” His feet thumped loudly on the downward ramp to the lab.
    When the lights came on Tad sucked in a deep breath, blinking.
    “Who fixed these nerfing fixtures? Did you do that, you snerg-livered little tinker?”
    “I did, yes.” Tad was watching the far corner of the room.
    Electro was back there, back where Tad had first seen him weeks ago. Worse, he was slumped exactly as he had been then. His front hung open, his internal workings dangled. A plump spider was at work decorating his defunct-looking head with thin strands of orange webbing.
    Hohl, making sounds somewhere between coughs and hoots, was roaming the workshop. He grabbed up tools, tossed them down. He kicked at tables,