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- Dave Cousins
Is My Teacher a Robot?
Is My Teacher a Robot? Read online
For teachers everywhere (especially the human ones!) - DC
To Phoebe and Cameron - CE
Contents
TITLE PAGE
DEDICATION
CHAPTER 1 - ON THE LAST DAY OF CHRISTMAS
CHAPTER 2 - WHY DOESN’T HE JUST LET GO?
CHAPTER 3 - THE TERRIFYING TALE OF IGGY PIGGY
CHAPTER 4 - I WILL TEACH AND YOU WILL LEARN
CHAPTER 5 - DESPERATE TIMES CALL FOR DESPERATE MEASURES
CHAPTER 6 - SAVING THE DAY
CHAPTER 7 - THE CARDBOARD LADY
CHAPTER 8 - THE SKILLS HAT
CHAPTER 9 - EXPECTING THE WORST
CHAPTER 10 - A STINKY TRICK
CHAPTER 11 - MISSION TERMINATED
CHAPTER 12 - SCIENCE CLUB
CHAPTER 13 - WE CAN REBUILD HIM!
CHAPTER 14 - WHAT’S WRONG WITH HIM?
CHAPTER 15 - TEAPOTS, ROBOTS AND FLYING HAMSTERS!
CHAPTER 16 - A FAMILY AFFAIR
EXTRACT
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
ABOUT THE ILLUSTRATOR
COPYRIGHT
“A ROBOT?” Dad snorted at the TV. “That’s just a vacuum cleaner with a face painted on it!”
We were watching the Buy It or Bin It? Christmas special. People go on the show and present an invention to a panel of investors. The panel then decides if the idea is worth an investment and buy it, or reject it to the bin! Mum and Dad were hooked.
“Fleur looks quite interested,” said Mum, as the camera zoomed in on one of the judges.
“She lived round here, you know,” said Dad.
“You say that every time,” I told him, rolling my eyes.
Dad shrugged. “She’s worth billions!”
The woman on the telly was called Fleur Pickles. She was probably about the same age as Dad, but she looked … less worn, somehow. Being a billionaire probably helped. It was good to know that somebody from a nowhere town like ours could get rich and even end up on TV.
“We should get Grandma to go on this,” said Dad. “The stuff she invents is way better!”
Mum nearly spat out her chocolate. “Are you serious? Have you forgotten what happened when Digby got too close to that AUTOMATIC TURKEY STUFFER she made? The poor dog hasn’t been the same since!” She shuddered. “And as for that SNOW MACHINE … we’re lucky it was only our windows that got broken. Those hailstones were the size of golf balls!”
“Yeah, but think of the money she’d make if she sold one of her ideas,” said Dad. “Where is Digby, anyway?”
“With Robin, I expect.”
Robin is probably Grandma’s most successful invention. She built him to look after me and Jess while Mum and Dad were at work. He looks so much like a real person, most people don’t even realize he’s a robot.
The judges on Buy It or Bin It? were about to announce their decision when we heard an ominous crash from the direction of the kitchen.
“I’ll go!” I said quickly. Mum and Dad quite like having a robot around, but Robin has a habit of getting into trouble. They got rid of him once before – I didn’t want them to have a reason to do it again.
I made sure to close the door behind me.
“Is that YOU making all that noise?” My sister was standing at the bottom of the stairs, scowling. It’s her favourite facial expression. “Have you seen Digby?”
“I think he’s in there … with Robin.” I nodded towards the kitchen.
“So what are you waiting for?” Jess is always telling me what to do – like she’s my big sister, when in fact we’re twins, so exactly the same age.
“Why don’t you go in?” I said.
“You’re closest!”
I sighed and opened the door.
The kitchen was unrecognizable. It felt as though we were walking into a jungle made from Christmas paper, dangling like multi-coloured vines from the ceiling.
I was barely over the threshold when something lurched at me from the undergrowth. It was like a giant spider, all spindly limbs and quick, jerky movements. One of its arms ended with a pair of shining blades that snipped the air in front of my face.
I ducked, narrowly avoiding an unscheduled haircut, then stumbled into a transparent web of sticky tape.
The creature pounced.
In seconds I was wrapped in a Christmas cocoon, unable to move.
“Robin!” I shouted. “It’s ME!”
“Master Jake! Oh, my!” The robot apologized and started to cut me free. “You stepped into my production line. I thought you were a gift that needed wrapping!”
“You do know Christmas is over, right?” said Jess.
“But your mother was disappointed when your grandma’s RAPID-WRAP-IT! machine didn’t work,” said the robot. “I thought I would see if I could improve on it.”
“I don’t think Mum wanted you to gift wrap the kitchen though,” I said.
Robin stroked his beard, a sign he was thinking. “My procedure is still in the development stage. I repeat a task and refine the process until it runs smoothly.”
“It’s a good job you’ve got a whole year until next Christmas,” said Jess. “I’d say this process needs a lot of refining!”
I looked around at the web of tape stretching across the kitchen, bits of wrapping caught up in it like festive flies. “By the way, have you seen Digby? I thought he was with you.”
“Digby? He’s just…” Robin turned towards the pile of presents. “Oh dear!”
We’d rescued Digby and were trying to unwrap the kitchen when the doorbell rang.
Dad’s footsteps thumped along the hall, then we heard our neighbour’s voice.
Mr Burton reminds me of a vampire. He has a pointy nose and grey bushy eyebrows like two hairy caterpillars clinging to his forehead.
We watched through a crack in the door as he handed Dad a note. “It’s a bill,” he said. “For the damage your robot caused to my house when it malfunctioned.”
Me and Jess exchanged a look. We knew a lot more about Robin’s malfunction than anybody realized – but that’s another story.
“This seems expensive!” said Dad.
“Removing chocolate muffin from a cream carpet is not easy,” said Mr Burton. “Besides, there was the leaf-blower.” He shuddered.
Even I’d been surprised how powerful that had turned out to be.
“I must go and apologize,” said Robin. “Your father should not have to pay for damage I caused.”
“NO! Don’t go out there!” I put my body between Robin and the door. “It’s better if Mr Burton doesn’t know you’re here.”
Meanwhile, Dad and the old man were still talking.
“There may be an alternative solution,” said Mr Burton. “If the robot was to come and work for me, he could repair the damage himself – at no cost to you.”
“That proposal is a very logical solution,” said Robin. “I wish to accept.”
“NO!” said Jess. “Have you forgotten what happened last time?”
“Mr Burton treated you like a slave!” I reminded him. “He made you cut his toenails!”
But the robot wasn’t listening. He made another lunge towards the door, so Jess jumped on his back while Digby took hold of a trouser leg in his teeth. But Robin is surprisingly strong, and even the three of us together couldn’t stop him.
Dad looked surprised when the kitchen door flew open and Robin burst into the hallway with me, Jess and Digby still clinging on.
“I wondered where you lot were,” he said.
“Where’s Mr Burton?” said Jess.
“He left.” Dad raised an eyebrow. “I’m guessing you were listening?”
“You’re not going to make Robin go and work for him are you?” I said.
>
“I told him I needed to talk it over with your mum.”
“It is right that I should repair the damage I caused,” said Robin.
“Well … hopefully it won’t come to that.” Dad smiled. “Now, I don’t suppose there are any mince pies left, are there?” He moved towards the kitchen but Jess jumped in the way.
“I’ll get you one! Why don’t you go and sit down? You don’t want to miss the end of Buy It or Bin It? do you?”
Dad nodded. “Good point! Thanks, love!”
“That was close,” said Jess when he’d gone. “Jake, you help Robin clear up this mess while I keep Mum and Dad distracted with mince pies.”
Normally I would have argued, but I was too busy thinking that Mr Burton would be back, and it was going to take a lot more than mince pies to keep him distracted.
“What’s Happy New Year in Russian?” said Ali.
This was my best friend’s favourite walking-to-school game. He liked to ask Robin random questions such as, “How many bananas would it take to reach the moon?” Answer: one point nine billion. Or ridiculous maths puzzles like, “What is the square root of the sum of 5,334,426 divided by 592,714?” Answer: three!
Ali and Jess’s friend Ivana are almost the only people outside of our family who know that Robin is a robot. Grandma said we had to keep it a secret in case bad people found out what Robin could do and tried to steal him for their evil schemes.
The robot stroked his beard while he processed Ali’s latest question. “S novym godom,” he replied, in a deep Russian accent.
“It’s similar in Croatian,” said Ivana. “Sretna Nova godina!”
“I wish my brain had a direct link to the internet so I could know everything,” said Ali. “I’d be a boy genius!”
“No, you’d just be a boy with direct access to the internet,” said Jess. “You’d still be an idiot!”
“Yeah, but I’d get all the answers right at school!”
“You could try listening in class,” my sister pointed out.
“That’s hard!” said Ali. “Robin can just download information. I only have to tell him something once and he knows it forever. My mum says she reminds me of the same things every day and I still forget. I try to remember but the stuff just won’t stay in my brain.”
“Probably because it’s so small,” said Jess. “Not enough room.”
But Ali wasn’t listening. “Whose car is THAT?” He pointed at a huge black vehicle with tinted windows parked in the NO PARKING zone outside the school gates.
We were still gawping when the back door swung open and Olivia Sharpe stepped on to the pavement.
My sister groaned. “Who else would it be?” Olivia is Mr Burton’s granddaughter. She and Jess aren’t exactly best friends.
“Is that a … DOG?” Ivana pointed at the ball of white fluff Olivia was holding.
With its pink ribbon and glittery collar the dog looked sweet enough, but the moment it saw Digby, the creature erupted into frantic, high-pitched barking. The next thing we knew, it had jumped out of Olivia’s arms and was hurtling towards us.
Robin was holding Digby’s lead, so when the dog fled into the school car park, the robot went with him.
We watched as Digby dodged between two parked cars then leaped over a low wall – Olivia’s dog snapping at his tail. Robin followed, clinging on like a terrified water-skier as the dogs zigzagged through a line of trees and then dragged him through a holly bush.
There was a gate at the far side of the car park. It was locked, but the bars were wide enough for a small dog to squeeze through. Sadly, they were NOT wide enough for a person … or a robot.
But Robin is loyal. Digby is his friend. No way was he going to let go of that lead.
“Let’s sit him down in one of the comfy chairs,” said the school caretaker, helping us carry Robin into the staffroom. “I really think we should call an ambulance.”
“NO!” I didn’t mean to shout, but if paramedics examined Robin they’d find out he wasn’t human! “He’ll be fine. He just needs a moment.”
But Robin didn’t look fine.
“He’s probably got concussion,” said Ali, when the caretaker finally left us alone.
“Do robots get that?”
Ali shrugged. “How many fingers can you see?” he asked, holding up three fingers.
Robin blinked, but didn’t answer.
“Maybe his voice processor got damaged?” said Ali.
Grandma had given Robin an upgrade over Christmas. She’d swapped his roller skates for black shoes with wheels hidden inside, found him a new stylish wig, and replaced his speech processor with one salvaged from a car satnav system. It was more advanced than his old one, so maybe there was more to go wrong?
“You could try switching him off and on again,” said Ali. “That’s what I do when my computer goes funny.”
“Might work.” I checked there was nobody watching.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” said Ali, as I pushed my finger up Robin’s nostril.
“The reset button’s up his nose. Grandma put it there so it couldn’t get knocked accidentally.”
“Gross!”
I held the button until Robin’s body went limp. Then I pressed it a second time, praying he would start up again. If the caretaker came back now he’d think Robin had died!
I was relieved when I heard the muffled whirr of fans as the robot restarted.
Then the bell rang.
Ali jumped up. “We need to get to class!”
“But Robin’s not ready yet! It takes him five minutes to reboot.”
“Can’t we leave him here and come back at break? We’ll be late!” Ali is terrified of getting into trouble. “Nobody’s going to come in. All the teachers will be in class.”
“I suppose…” I didn’t want to get into trouble either, especially not on the first day back.
We joined Jess and Ivana at the back of the line waiting to go into the classroom.
“We caught Digby and left him with Mr Binder in the office,” said Jess. “How’s Robin?”
“He was acting a bit weird, so we had to do a reset.” I stabbed the air with my finger.
Jess winced. “But he’s OK now?”
“Yeah, should be.”
My sister’s eyes narrowed. “Well, is he or isn’t he?”
“I don’t know, do I? He was still rebooting when the bell went.”
“You mean you LEFT HIM?!”
“He’ll be fine,” I said. “As soon as he wakes up he’ll get Digby and go home.”
“I knew I shouldn’t have left you two looking after him. You had ONE job!” My sister shook her head. “If anything happens to Robin, it’s YOUR fault!”
I was so busy thinking about Robin that I didn’t notice who called us into class. With all the drama, I’d forgotten that our teacher Mrs Badoe was away having a baby. I looked up and saw Ms Sternwood standing in the doorway. This was BAD! It’s not that our head teacher is particularly strict, the problem is HER GUITAR! Ms Sternwood thinks that turning everything into a SONG makes learning more fun. She has songs for fractions, geography and science. She even has a song about our class pet, Ham the hamster!
And then … there’s ‘IGGY PIGGY’.
When you’re in Reception or Year Two, it’s just a funny song about a pig. Not so much when you’re in Year Five and Ms Sternwood is making you perform the song IN FRONT OF THE WHOLE SCHOOL AND PARENTS at Sharing Assembly. Especially if you’ve been chosen to play the title role, which means you have to stand up at the end of every chorus and say, “OINK! OINK!”
“Don’t worry,” said Ali. “She probably won’t make you be Piggy again.”
But as we took our seats I saw the guitar leaning against the teacher’s desk.
“I have some lovely news,” said Ms Sternwood. “Mrs Badoe gave birth to a beautiful baby girl on Christmas morning!”
“Was it born in a stable, miss?” It was difficult to tell if Brett was joking. Sometime
s it was difficult to tell if Brett was even awake. He saved his energy for picking on people during break. (Mr Burton is his grandad, too, so you can see where Brett gets it from.)
Ms Sternwood frowned. “Er … no, Brett. She was born in hospital.”
Brett looked disappointed.
Jess raised her hand. “Are you going to be our teacher now, miss?”
“I contacted the agency to arrange a substitute,” said Ms Sternwood. “They promised to send somebody as soon as they can, but until then I’ll be taking over.” She smiled. “How about we start the new term with a sing-song? Hands up if you remember the words to ‘Iggy Piggy’!”
But before Ms Sternwood could pick up her guitar, the school secretary appeared at the door. “Sorry to interrupt,” said Mr Binder. “Your substitute teacher has arrived.”
“Oh!” said Ms Sternwood. “How lovely.” But you could see the disappointment on her face. “Read quietly until I’m back,” she told us.
“Wonder who we’ll get?” said Ali, as the head teacher left the room. “I hope it’s not that Mr Mitchell!”
“Which one was he again?”
“Grumpy old guy with a beard. Made us sit in silence and had a go at Sanjit for breathing too loudly!”
“Oh, yeah, I remember.”
“We might get Miss Bonnet!” My friend blushed as he said it.
Miss Bonnet (pronounced Bon-ay) was young and French, and Ali had acted very strangely during the week she’d covered for Mrs Badoe.
“Here they come,” said Ali, opening his book, not noticing it was upside down.
But the person who followed Ms Sternwood back into the classroom wasn’t young and French.
He wasn’t old and grumpy either.
But he did have a beard…
I felt my jaw drop.
Ali’s book slid to the floor.
Standing next to the head teacher with a slightly dazed look on his face … was Robin.