Cats vs. Robots #2 Read online

  “That . . . was . . . awesome,” Min said, admiring the angular design and flawless landing.

  “Sweet decals,” Max noted, squinting, as the dust settled and revealed SLAYAR’s liberal use of flames, racing stripes, skulls and crossbones. “Very metal.”

  WHAAM!

  Without warning, a landing platform exploded open and slammed down to the concrete. A burst of flames erupted from the Robot ship.

  Mom winced. “Is everything they do so loud?”

  Beeps rolled out onto the concrete through the receding flames, spinning, scanning the area. Eye darting around.

  “All clear, sir,” he said.

  SLAYAR rolled out into the bright sun, shiny chrome and glittering silver, almost as blinding as the ship. “Nice lighting here,” he said, admiring his reflection from the side of the Heavy Metal. He turned toward Beeps and noticed the dust from their showy landing still falling around them, dismayed. “Ugh. On second thought, this place is disgusting. Beeps, let’s get this engine and get the bleep out of here.”

  Behind them, Obi quietly emerged from the ship, pausing first to sniff the desert air.

  “Obi!!” Max shouted, excited. With SLAYAR distracted, Obi trotted over for a brief but long overdue reunion.

  SLAYAR and Beeps crunched through the dust and approached the humans aggressively. “Right! Let’s get this over with. Hand it over.” SLAYAR held out a grasper.

  WHOOOOOOOOMMM!!

  A second loud sound came from the sky, interrupting the supreme leader. He looked around, then up, confused. “What’s going on? Beeps, did you call for backup?”

  Through a patch of wispy clouds above, a sleek shape darted downward, back and forth, quickly but carefully toward them. It zigged and zagged until it suddenly appeared opposite SLAYAR’s ship, just above the second landing pad.

  HUMMMMMMM . . . WHUMP!

  Meow’s ship hovered for a moment, then suddenly dropped straight down. Just before hitting the concrete, four legs emerged and the ship landed with grace, the legs perfectly absorbing the shock.

  A fifth appendage appeared behind it, waving like a tail, balancing the craft as the legs adjusted and lowered the ship to the ground, like a giant cat settling down to relax.

  The front of Meow’s ship opened, shaped like a fanged mouth, a metal tongue extending to the concrete.

  Pounce emerged, sniffing, eyes darting. He turned back to the ship. “All clear, Chairman.”

  Meow walked slowly out. He moved deliberately, mostly masking his discomfort at this unusual physical exertion. He strode nobly out of the shade of the ship into the desert heat.

  “Glorious,” Meow said, turning to face the sun, stretching slowly, enjoying the warmth.

  After only a moment, however, he looked toward the hangar and scowled.

  “Pounce,” Meow said angrily. “What are the Binars doing here?”

  34

  Betrayal

  Pants stepped forward as the Binars and Felines approached the group cautiously, exchanging angry glances with each other and the humans.

  “They’re good,” Javi whispered to the twins.

  Pants smiled and spread his arms wide, showing no sign of concern. “Esteemed guests, welcome to Earth! Please join us and allow me to explain.”

  “There is nothing to explain, you treacherous Furless monster,” Meow wheezed, enjoying the dramatic show of anger. “That metal monstrosity does not belong here and should be launched immediately back into space—with or without its ship.”

  SLAYAR zoomed forward, graspers pointed toward Meow. “I DEMAND these four-legged abominations be removed INSTANTLY,” SLAYAR shouted, at maximum volume.

  “Maybe too good?” Min whispered in response to Javi, worried that the leaders would start fighting.

  Pants was unfazed and kept smiling as he shook his head. “With respect, I understand your concerns, but I assure both of you I can explain everything in due time. If you’ll just join me inside, I will give you what you came for.”

  He walked closer to SLAYAR and whispered, “I think you’ll like what you see.” Pants turned toward the hangar door. “Please,” he said to the leaders, gesturing toward the blazing sun. “It will be much more comfortable inside.”

  SLAYAR and Beeps rolled forward into the hangar. After they passed by, Pants approached Meow with a wink and a nod. “Convincing performance, worthy of an immortal leader.”

  Meow resisted the urge to growl and instead turned up his nose with a haughty sniff and stepped past Pants. Pounce glanced back at the group and gave the smallest nod before following Meow into the vast, dim space.

  Dad brought the group together. “All set, everyone?” Max and Min nodded.

  “Stick together and keep your eyes and ears open,” Mom said. “I know we can do this.”

  “Well, here goes everything,” Portillo said as they all stepped into the gloom.

  Immediately behind them, the black-clad soldiers moved quietly and formed a line just inside the large entrance, blocking the way out.

  Without warning, the massive doors rumbled and began to close.

  Max and Min moved closer to their parents.

  “Great,” Portillo said as the light from outside was gradually dimmed, leaving them trapped inside, surrounded by complete darkness.

  After what felt like an eternity in the dark, rows of bright lights overhead switched on, one by one, revealing a scene so extraordinary that nobody moved or said a word.

  On one side of the vast space was a stage, although the word didn’t quite describe the spectacle.

  This was the official, full-scale touring stage for the HEDBANGRZ, the biggest metal-rock band in the world, and it was set up for a performance.

  The stage lights flashed on, and a brilliant high-definition jumbotron screen lit up behind the stage. The words “SLAYAR” and “HEDBANGRZ” flashed, then slammed together and exploded.

  Flames shot up from the stage, and smoke machines turned on full-blast, multicolored lasers creating elaborate geometries in the growing haze.

  SLAYAR moved closer, in awe. In the center of the stage, under a spotlight, was the most glorious guitar he had ever laid sensors on.

  “Aw yeah,” he said, hypnotized by the stage and the guitar, and most of all seeing his name together with his favorite band. SLAYAR’s inputs were overloaded, and all preparations and plans he made with the Felines left his processors immediately.

  Logic circuits no longer in control, SLAYAR raced toward the stage, rushing for the spotlight.

  Beeps followed nervously. “Sir, are we not forgetting about the engine?”

  Meow watched, concerned that his former nemesis was so easily distracted. “I fear we may have underestimated the Pants,” he said to Pounce as he took in the rest of the hangar.

  “By my royal rump,” he muttered when he saw what was opposite the stage.

  On the other side of the hangar, Meow saw a large, glass-enclosed room. Inside was a row of pedestals, each lit by spotlights. Under each light sat a stunning feline, each one more remarkable than the next.

  “What spectacular specimens,” Meow purred as he stepped slowly closer to inspect.

  On one end of the row sat a perfect replica of an idealized Meow, a resplendent artist’s rendition of Meow in the prime of his life: young, strong, and confident.

  On the opposite end, on the largest platform, sat a full-grown muscular lion, fangs bared, powerful legs tensed, complete with a glorious mane.

  Between them were displayed an assortment of the greatest hits of feline form, including a sleek cheetah, striking lynx, even a menacing Bengal tiger.

  Meow realized that the glass chamber was a menu, a set of new forms he could choose from for his new, engine-powered existence.

  The choices were so tantalizing that he had to take a closer look, and without a word, he ran forward and jumped into the room to examine his options.

  Pounce had no choice but to follow his leader inside.

  Max loo
ked at his mom and dad and pointed at the room with a questioning look. “What is that?”

  Min scratched her head, then said, “Are those supposed to be for Meow, like new robot bodies? Because if they are . . .” Min whistled.

  “Maybe they’re examples, but there’s no way they’re working models,” Mom said, skeptical.

  “I doubt they’re even robots.” Dad nodded. “Hopefully they’re not, you know, stuffed,” he said, looking a little sick.

  Portillo and Javi held on to their cases and exchanged concerned glances. “Should SLAYAR be going onstage?” Javi asked. “And Meow in that box?”

  “This Pants guy is dangerously good,” Portillo said, shaking her head. “They both took the bait, even when they knew it was coming.”

  Javi looked farther into the hangar and saw several areas set up like medical labs and the robotics lab at home. Banks of generators and computers were stacked nearby, powered down. “Is all of that for us?” Javi wondered. “Or is this just standard, you know, ‘Area’ equipment?”

  Mom noticed what appeared to be a row of cages lined up against a wall and pointed them out. “There’s a small chance we are in over our heads here,” she said.

  35

  The Trap Is Sprung

  The group walked closer to where Pants and Huggs were standing, not sure what to do next. The two men ignored them and focused completely on SLAYAR and Meow.

  Meow crept around the glass room, prowling from platform to platform, sniffing here, gently booping there. Pounce followed from a safe distance, unwilling to get too close to the creatures.

  SLAYAR reached the center of the stage and circled the guitar. “Beeps, check this out! This is exactly like Ded Hed Fred’s guitar. DHF is the BEST! Nobody shreds better than Fred!” SLAYAR slowly, reverently, reached out to pick up the guitar.

  Pants turned to Huggs, who removed his sunglasses and hat, and put them down next to his dog. Huggs looked back to Pants and nodded.

  Huggs reached out to a nearby panel and pressed a button.

  Without warning, the door to the glass room holding Meow slammed shut, and metal locks clamped noisily into place.

  Meow jumped, startled, and looked out angrily.

  “HAHAHA!” SLAYAR laughed when he heard the door shut. For a split second, he imagined he might get what he wanted from Pants and conquer the Felines.

  “Dumb four-leggers fell for it.” He grabbed the guitar and held it up, victorious. “I am the champion, my friends!”

  Pants shook his head, smiling, and hit another button.

  SLAYAR’s celebration was swiftly silenced as a large transparent cube dropped from the catwalks above the stage, sealing him and Beeps in a clear cage of their own.

  SLAYAR spun and flailed angrily, but his shouting was muted by the thick walls of his new see-through cage.

  The shocked leaders of both planets quickly realized that they had been been fooled. Outplayed not by each other, but by the slick, smiling Furless two-legger and the bald, pale, shiny fleshie.

  Huggs and Pants ignored the protesting visitors and turned to face their fellow humans.

  “What’s going on?” Portillo said. They were all confused. “I thought you were giving them each an Infinity Engine and sending them on their way?”

  Pants was about to answer, when Huggs stepped in front of him.

  “Mr. Vice President, our friends don’t seem to understand what is happening.” He was enjoying the moment of control, showing the hint of a sneer, staring directly at Portillo. “I wonder, are they merely unintelligent, or perhaps you been less than forthcoming?”

  Pants merely stood behind Huggs, hands clasped behind his back, allowing Huggs to enjoy the moment.

  “No matter,” Huggs went on. “We got what we needed.”

  Pants held up a hand and gave a signal. Armored soldiers emerged from the shadows and surrounded the group. Four particularly bulky soldiers walked slowly toward Javi and Portillo. Two soldiers stopped, weapons held, ready. The other two came closer and stood a few feet away, towering, and slung their guns behind their backs.

  Javi and Portillo looked at each other and shrugged as they set down the two cases and stepped back. “I assume you’re here for these,” Javi said with a grimace.

  Without a word, the two soldiers picked up the cases and walked back to the lab area, where Huggs and Pants were waiting. Huggs looked on greedily as they set them down. The other two soldiers lifted their weapons and used them to gesture toward the cages against the wall.

  “Well, this isn’t going well at all,” Dad said.

  “Hold on,” Javi said, and took a step forward. “Mr. Vice President! You have to stop.”

  Pants paused and turned to face them, amused look on his face.

  “We have rights,” Javi continued. “This is kidnapping, theft, and probably multiple national security violations. You’re risking a war with alien powers, imprisoning their leaders without cause. Should I go on?”

  Pants took a step forward, showing his most condescending smile. “I’m sure you could, but I would prefer you didn’t.”

  Portillo stepped next to Javi. “Release us, and the others, along with the engines. It’s the only way to avoid war.” She gestured up, indicating the fleets in orbit. “It’s not too late.”

  “Hmmm, let me think about that. No,” Pants said, without thinking. “We can and we will. We have their leaders. We can deal with the Cats and Robots.”

  Javi glanced back at Mom and Dad with a grim look.

  “As for you, well, you will go along with this if you know what’s good for you.” Pants gestured around. “You are all standing on government property. None of you have authorization to be here. You are all trespassing, and these fine soldiers are authorized to shoot first, ask questions later.”

  “You told us to come here!” Min yelled. “They can’t do this, right?” She looked at her parents, worried.

  “Child, I can do whatever I want,” Pants said, folding his arms. “We are on an ultra-secret base in the middle of nowhere that not even the military knows about. Nobody knows you are here.” He gestured toward the desert beyond the massive hangar doors. “The desert can be a dangerous place. People disappear out here all the time.”

  “Fine,” Portillo said, hands up. “You win.” She went back to the group. “I think we should do what he says. It isn’t right, but they have the power here.”

  The soldier gestured again at the cage. They all walked nervously into a large barred cell against the wall of the hangar. The soldier, eyes invisible behind the helmet and dark goggles, swung the door shut and locked it.

  “Now what do we do?” Max was starting to panic.

  “I knew I didn’t trust Pants,” Portillo said, “but this goes way beyond evil.”

  “We programmed the fleas to help us with Meow and SLAYAR, but now we’re all trapped.” Mom looked at Dad, concerned.

  They looked at the stage and saw SLAYAR spinning, slamming against the walls, unable to escape. Beeps had locked his wheel and leaned against one of the walls, clearly defeated, not even trying to balance. On the other side, Meow had slumped to the floor, exhausted. Pounce paced back and forth, pausing occasionally to give Meow an encouraging lick.

  “Yeah,” Mom said, looking out at all the lab equipment in the hangar. “Something tells me they’re not going to leave this place in one piece, unless we can figure something out.”

  “Same with Pounce and Beeps,” Javi said.

  Max looked around. “And Obi.”

  36

  Freestyling Fleas

  Max pressed his face against the cool bars of the cage and tried to think. I’m too young to be abandoned in the desert, he thought.

  His mind kept going back to the robo-fleas hidden in the engines.

  “I’m so mad. We worked so hard on those fleas and they’re useless,” he said to Min.

  He thought about the sting he felt in the lab when the prototype flea “bit” him. “I wish we had the
original Jerry. At least he knew how to attack people.”

  “Yeah, I’d love to see Pants get some ants in his pants,” Min said.

  Max froze, even though his heart started racing. . . .

  “Min, that’s it!” He spun around. “Mom, Dad, do the fleas still have their old AI?”

  Mom thought. “Yes, it’s all still there. We added new routines and capabilities to their AI, but they didn’t lose the original programming, like how you still know how to crawl. Why?”

  “I was just thinking,” Max said, more excited, “remember when you first turned on Jerry, he immediately jumped on me?”

  “Yes, that’s how we designed the original model,” Mom said, still not sure why Max was asking.

  “Oh!” Min said, and shot her hand out to grab Mom. “So the fleas were originally designed to hunt for people, right? That’s how you tested them?”

  Dad and Mom looked at each other, eyes wide. “Ah! I see what you’re saying!” Dad pulled his phone out of his pocket and scrolled to an icon that looked like an insect.

  “The fleas were designed to hunt using a broad-spectrum search for heat and motion. They followed those ‘instincts’ to search for targets.”

  Mom stood next to Dad. “All that behavior is still there in the new fleas; it’s just buried below a more sophisticated algorithm. But if we can reconfigure the fleas . . .”

  “We can change their decision tree. Make them less intelligent.” Dad tapped on the flea icon and waited while the program loaded.

  “It took a lot of work to get them to hunt for cats and robots, but it’s a lot easier to turn something off than it is to build it from scratch. We just have to tell them to ignore their new functions and think less!”

  Mom gave the twins a quick hug. “Max and Min, you are geniuses. And we’re not just saying that because you’re our children.”

  Dad interrupted the hug to give Mom the phone. “Here, you’re better at this, see what you can do. I know we don’t have any cell signal in here, but the fleas operate on a local wireless mesh network, so we should still be able to connect to them from here without regular Wi-Fi.”