A Boy and His Bot, Page 2

  2

  The Odd Woods

  Code peeked his head out of the crack in the rock wall and did not see a road, a school bus, or a thunderstorm. From the instant knot in his stomach, Code knew that he was definitely, without a doubt, utterly and completely lost. Swallowing, he looked up at the twisting, vine-encrusted trees that towered overhead. He had never seen trees like this at Mek Mound before.

  Peep, a green dot of light, flew a few feet ahead, swooping through the air like a lightning bug on a mission. She was the only familiar sight. Code hesitantly followed her, trudging into the dim forest.

  Something is wrong with this place, he thought. A mournful, hushed feeling filled the woods. Code noticed that the muted shadows of leaves on the forest floor were perfectly still. The trees didn’t sway, not even a little. The leaves didn’t chatter to each other the way they did on Mek Mound. He could hear a breeze whistling through the branches above, but the moss-covered tree limbs still hung motionless, like carved statues.

  It was eerie, but Code was curious. Besides, Peep was happily pouncing from tree to tree. Reassured by the steady drone of Peep’s wings, Code turned his attention to investigating the woods around him.

  Hearing a peculiar criiick, criiick coming from a deep cluster of bushes, Code pushed aside a stiff patch of tall grass and saw a squat brown toad. Carefully, Code scooped up the little creature only to find that it was some kind of clockwork toad, hard and bumpy and heavy, with a winder jutting out of its side. It gave a sharp mechanical kick of its legs and escaped into the bushes.

  Hurrying to catch up with Peep, Code noticed an intricate silver spiderweb hanging from a tree branch. It seemed to hum softly in the shadows, like a sputtering neon sign. A metallic lump with long, splintery legs—the spider, Code realized—hung from a springy wire. As Code passed by, a translucent gnat landed on the web and was barbecued with a zap.

  What a strange place this is, Code thought. Everything was different here, from the leaves to the animals. Nothing was natural. Everything was made of metal or plastic or glass.

  Looking around in wonder, Code stepped over waist-high roots and ducked under low-hanging branches. He stopped and ran his fingers over an oddly solid tree trunk. The bark didn’t crumble at all. “Peep, is this whole place full of robots just like you? Even the trees are made of metal.”

  Peep winked a happy orange, then went back to curious green as she kept gliding forward through the gloom.

  A pang of fear ran through Code when he realized that he could no longer see the tunnel entrance. He didn’t know the way back to the tunnel. But come to think of it, he didn’t know the way back from the tunnel to the mound either. Not only do I not know the way back, he thought. I don’t know the way back from the way back. So Code decided to do the only rational thing: go forward.

  After a few more minutes of walking, Code stopped in his tracks. Before him was a thing that he absolutely could not make sense of. It was a shiny wall. No … it was a swiftly flowing silver creek. Wait—it was a blur of speeding sticks. Code squinted at the bizarre sight—it was like trying to focus on the spinning blades of a ceiling fan. No. It couldn’t be. Were those … legs? The more he looked, the more Code became sure: it was a thousand pairs of connected legs running almost but not quite faster than Code could see. The running wall was taller than Code and connected to a long, gray centipede-like body. It stretched through the woods in both directions as far as he could see.

  Peep kept going, flying right over the top.

  “Wait!” shouted Code. He hopped up and down in vain, trying to see over the speeding wall. “Oh, Peep,” he muttered. For a few minutes, he searched for a way around but found nothing. Finally, Code sat down on a glinting rock and rested his chin in his hand.

  He was starting to feel really afraid. Alone in a strange, motionless forest filled with robotic animals—and now this, a metal wall of legs violently hurtling past. The shining barrier kicked up a breeze that ruffled his hair. I just need to get past this wall, he thought. Peep is the only one who seems to know the way. I’ll find her and then get out of here, he promised himself. Back to the mound and the school bus and home.

  Code picked up a stick and slowly held it out toward the silvery blur of motion. Crack! It was smashed to splinters the instant it made contact. Code dropped the broken stick and rubbed his bruised hand. Touching this thing would break his arm, he realized. And it was too high to jump over, even if he climbed a tree. Code looked to the left and right again. The wall didn’t seem to have a beginning or end. Feeling small and alone, Code turned away from the wall and looked back the way he had come, wishing desperately that Peep would return so he didn’t have to figure this out by himself.

  Then Code felt a tap on his shoulder.

  “That was very rude,” said a broad, insectile face with quivering antennae. “Even for a brute living in the Odd Woods.”

  A jolt of fear and surprise raced through Code, but he couldn’t react. It was all he could do to keep breathing. A smooth metallic face with emerald green bug eyes loomed over him. When it spoke, two sharp mandibles clacked back and forth in its mouth, like serrated knives.

  “Well?” asked the creature. “Haven’t you got anything to say?”

  Code gasped in wonder as he realized the face was connected to the centipede-like body that curved off into the distance. This creature was the silver wall! The moving wall of legs slowed down and finally stopped. One slim leg reached up and scratched its belly, just like a cat.

  “I’m sorry,” said Code, studying the insect’s face. It seemed very odd that this monstrous thing from who knows where should speak perfect English.

  “I was just …” Code trailed off.

  “Experimenting?”

  “I didn’t know that you were. I mean—” Code pointed at the row of tall, thin legs. “This is all you?” he asked.

  “Right. I’m an infinipede, thanks. And I’m sorry if I startled you, but your nasty poke with that stick makes us quite even. Maybe more so.”

  “Where am I? What is this place?” implored Code.

  “What a silly question. You’re in Mekhos, obviously. The land of the robots. And if you don’t mind, I’ll be off now.”

  The answer made no sense, but the mysterious creature was already preparing to race away into the murky woods.

  “Wait,” pleaded Code. “I’m not from here. I’m … lost. I need to know where this place is so that I can get back home.”

  The infinipede clattered its mandibles together, chuckling at him. “My dear little brute. Mekhos is exactly where it is supposed to be. No place else. As everyone knows, our pocket of reality was carved out of space and time ages ago.”

  “What do you mean? By who?”

  “The ancient titans. The mound builders. You know, humans.”

  “Humans?” Code repeated.

  “Yes, yes. Humans are a race of monsters as tall as trees and stronger than the currents of the Mercurial River. They created Mekhos as a laboratory. A big experiment. You may not know it, brute, but you are an experiment out of control. We all are.”

  Code’s mind raced. The mound builders! They made this place as an experiment? What kind of experiment needed a whole new world as a laboratory?

  “But why?” Code breathed.

  “I suppose the humans built Mekhos for us because we are so terribly … dangerous. Best for them if we keep our worlds separate. Don’t leave the peace of the Odd Woods, little brute. There are things out there that would make you wish you didn’t have sensors. Horrors as big as the sky that can crush you into bits and pieces. And there are other fiends. Nanoscopic creatures, smaller than dust, that will make you wish you’d never been invented. They can wriggle through your outer casing and tear you apart from the inside. Trust me, Mekhos can be a very nasty place.”

  All of a sudden a thought occurred to Code: Maybe my grandfather came here, too. If anyone had seen the old man, it would be this long creature that seemed to be everywhe
re at once. Barely daring to hope, Code asked, “Have you seen any humans?”

  The infinipede sighed.

  “Alas, the ancients made us, gave us our programs, and then abandoned us. Nobody has seen a human being for thousands of years.”

  Code’s shoulders slumped. No luck.

  “All except for the one, of course,” added the infinipede.

  Code arched his eyebrows questioningly.

  “How ignorant can you be?” asked the infinipede. “I’m speaking of His Excellency, the King of the Greater Mekhos Co-Prosperity Sphere. A bit of a pompous title if you ask me. Used to be a splendid king. He saved Mekhos countless times from countless dreadful enemies. But he can’t save us now, because this time he’s the one trying to deactivate us! The king is holding the Robonomicon captive and has decided that we shall all be disassembled.”

  Code sighed. He was wrong again. There was only one other human here and it was some king, not his grandfather. “The Robo-nob-inon?” asked Code, badly butchering the pronunciation. “Who is that?”

  “Are you serious?! The Robonomicon is a sacred relic. It holds the schematics of everyone in Mekhos, our history, and the laws that we must operate by. It was created by the original builders. He who controls the Robonomicon controls Mekhos. Of course, the Great Disassembly could change everything.”

  Disassembly. It was an ominous word. Code thought about taking apart a jigsaw puzzle and stuffing the pieces back in the box. Sensing that he might come to regret the answer, Code was almost afraid to ask the next question: “What do you mean, Great Disassembly?”

  “Pow! Kaput. Finished! I’m sorry to be the one to inform you, but all of our warranties are about to be voided! When the Great Disassembly comes, every robot in Mekhos will first be broken down into its component parts. Second, those parts will be broken down into their component parts. Third … why, there is no third. There won’t be anybody left. It will be the end of Mekhos. So have a great day, because it’s probably your last!”

  Just as he’d predicted, Code regretted having asked. Then an uncharacteristically brave idea struck him: “Well, then, why doesn’t somebody rescue the Robonomicon and stop the Disassembly?”

  The infinipede shook its great head sadly.

  “Only a human being can wield the Robonomicon. It was made by the ancient humans to control the experiment that is Mekhos. We robots can’t use it. Humans didn’t want the inmates running the asylum, understand? No, brute, we are destined for Disassembly.”

  Clearly, thought Code, these robots are not very good at spotting human beings.

  “Where is this … thing?” he asked.

  “You mean the Robonomicon?” replied the infinipede. “It can be found in the Celestial City of His Excellency the— Well, you know the rest. It’s very simple, really. Just go directly through the lethal Toparian Wyldes, beyond the endless wastes of the Nanoscopic Traverse, across the uncrossable Fomorian Sea, up the poisonous Mercurial River, to the Right Eyeland; and then straight to the top of the unclimbable Beamstalk.”

  The infinipede pointed one mandible at a shimmering line rising from the distant horizon. At the top of it, a small light winked. “At the top of that light beam is the Celestial City. It’s a hundred thousand miles high, and there are just as many ways to die between here and there. These woods are perfectly safe in comparison.”

  The infinipede eyed Code. “You look awfully delicate. What is it that you’re made of, anyway? Stretchy plastic? I’m surprised you haven’t been eaten alive by a cloud of renegade nanospores by now. Listen, little brute. You seem to be completely lost and alone and in terrible danger. Why don’t you scamper back to where you came from?”

  It was true, thought Code. Peep was gone and he was lost. His curiosity was not worth dying for. What am I doing? I could get hurt out here, or even killed. Better to slink back through the Odd Woods and look for the cave and the mound and the school bus. The safest course of action to take is none at all, he reminded himself.

  Code shrugged and gave a halfhearted wave to the long silver creature. He began to walk into the woods, back the way he had come. As the glade behind him faded into the gloom, he heard the infinipede mutter something to itself in a glum, raspy voice: “If only things could be different. John Lightfall used to be such a good king.”

  Goose bumps spread over Code’s shoulders and down his arms.

  “What did you say?” he called back to the creature.

  The infinipede used its mandibles to briskly wipe splattered bugs and dirt away from its compound eyes. It was crouched down, prepared to run away. “John Lightfall, my little brute. He’s our king. The one who’s going to deactivate our entire world.”

  It couldn’t be a coincidence. Code’s grandfather had disappeared near Mek Mound a year ago, and there was a man here with the same name?

  “John Lightfall is your king?!”

  “No more questions, little brute. They are building more of me at the factory all the time. Every second I spend here dillydallying with you causes a backup on the Mainline. I can’t stop again or there will be a major catastrophe!”

  Code couldn’t believe this news. His grandfather? King of the robots? He pushed all thoughts of danger out of his head. I don’t have any choice, he thought.

  “Wait,” Code said meekly.

  The infinipede blinked at him impatiently.

  “Do you mind if I just … step under you?”

  The infinipede glanced over at its wall of legs. “Very well. But you’re signing your own deactivation orders.”

  Code climbed through the legs of the infinipede to the other side. “Thanks.”

  “See you at the Disassembly!” called the infinipede.

  The creature hunched down and darted away into the underbrush. A split second later, its rear body began to churn forward again, creating a moving silver barrier. Code watched it accelerate into a blur.

  It dawned on him that now there really was no going back.

  Ahead, soaring high above the dark trees, Code saw the Beamstalk stretching up into the sky. At the top of it was the Celestial City, his grandfather, and the Robonomicon. I did it, thought Code. Well. I did something, anyway.

  A chill wind rolled in from the rapidly darkening woods ahead, and Code shivered. He was on his own in a strange land. Without another moment’s hesitation, he took a resolute step forward—toward his destiny, be it great or terrible.

  And at that precise moment, Code heard the most wonderful sound he could have imagined: the hum of a tiny pair of robotic wings and a happy chirp. It was Peep! In the shadowed foliage, she sat on a tree limb, glowing a glad shade of gold, watching him. At his approach, she darted toward him and landed on his shoulder, tickling his neck with her fluttering wings.

  She was jumping for joy.

  Code cupped the tiny robot in both hands and looked down at the softly gleaming creature. Her radiance bathed his face in a warm golden glow. Together, they formed a small island of light in an otherwise shadowy and foreboding forest.

  “Did you find me for a reason, Peep?” whispered Code. Her only response was to glow mysteriously. “Either way, I’m glad you came back,” he said. “Now let’s go find my grandfather.”

  3

  King John Lightfall

  For the next few hours, Code trudged through deep hollows and dark woods. The sun dipped toward the horizon, casting long, still shadows onto the forest floor. Peep buzzed confidently onward without wavering. The peppy little robot never slowed down, although Code’s feet were beginning to feel a bit tender.

  All at once, a speeding blur rocketed past him and knocked Peep out of the air. She hit the ground hard and peeped in alarm. Before Code could scoop her up, something the size of a kitchen pot zoomed past his face and crashed into a tree, spraying flecks of metal bark. It looked like a big armored mechanical beetle. Then a swarm of twinkling, acorn-sized metallic bugs zoomed after it; they landed on the big beetle and began to scrape off bits of bark and dirt that w
ere stuck to it.

  “What the—?” said Code.

  A cacophony of buzzing, flapping, and humming ensued as a swarming cloud of mechanical insects of all shapes and sizes came bursting through the forest. Code ducked as a ruby red dragonfly with gear-spun wings droned past his head. Small round bugs sputtered in all directions, pummeling Code in the arms and back like colorful ball bearings. The cloud of insects was in a panic, careening off each other and bouncing off the trees. In the confusion of swirling insects and dust and falling metallic leaves, Code lost sight of Peep.

  “Peep! Where are you?”

  Code stumbled through the whirlwind, protecting his eyes with one arm and batting away tinfoil flies with the other. At one point, he had to reach into his shirt to pull out a large, purple roly-poly with folded wings that had scampered up his sleeve to hide. Through the noise and confusion Code heard a familiar peeping sound and saw flashes of green light.

  “Peep!”

  Code bolted toward the bursts of light and into an open glade. Peep was clinging to a tree limb, shooting beams of green light at the other flying insects to keep them away. Code reached out and cradled Peep protectively against his chest. He struggled into the middle of a small clearing.

  This world is crazy, thought Code. How am I ever going to get anywhere? “What’s happening?” he shouted over the vibrating din of beating wings.

  Suddenly, the clearing fell silent. The swarm of flying armored insects slowed and each one dropped to the ground. Their antennae quivered and some of them emitted frightened chirps and squeaks.

  The sky was lit by a strange glow.

  Code dropped Peep into his shirt pocket, found the tallest tree around, and began climbing. The tree limbs were hard as rock and just as sturdy. From his pocket, Peep made a sad, scared warble. But Code was intent on reaching the top. All around, the sky was darkening quickly, as if someone were dimming the lights.

  Finally, Code reached the top branches. In the distance, he saw the narrow thread of the Beamstalk climbing straight up into the heavens. Somewhere high up at the top, where the deep blue sky began to fade into the blackness of space, was a speck that he knew was the Celestial City—floating in orbit above the planet and tethered to the surface by a cord of light. The city glinted weakly in the fading sunlight.