How To Hypnotise A Droid

  To Dad.

  Thanks for being the most wonderful creative inspiration a boy called Joshie could ever ask for!

  CONTENTS

  TITLE PAGE

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  AUTHOR + ILLUSTRATOR MODE

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  COPYRIGHT PAGE

  ‘There’s never a dull day in the life of Joshie Hectic,’ Dad used to say. Then we got hit by lightning on the beach. That’s how I got the silver lightning bolt in my hair. And that’s how I got nicknamed .

  Well that, and because I was always doing stuff like chasing sharks on my surfboard.

  But then something happened that you’ll never believe. Something WILD. Something HUGE. Something that added A MILLION VOLTS of to my life!

  It all started one morning, when I was eating muesli with soy milk (YUCK!). Someone started banging on our apartment door like crazy.

  I knew it was probably Crazy Cat Granny from next door, because my dog Frenchy was NEXT LEVEL barking.

  He has a sixth sense for when she and her cats are around.

  I heard Mum open the front door. Sure enough, it was Crazy Cat Granny.

  ‘This HUGE box came for you!’ she cackled. ‘What’s in it? Better open it before my kitties get there first!’

  My ears pricked up. Huge box? We hardly ever get deliveries. I craned my neck to see, and could just make out a long cardboard box in our doorway. There were at least two cats already meowing and scratching at it.

  ‘And why does it say ?’ asked Crazy Cat Granny.

  At that, I sprang out of my chair. We definitely never had any deliveries. Frenchy was still barking like a maniac as I sprinted to the front door.

  ‘Oh, it’s arrived,’ Mum said, dragging the enormous box inside. ‘Yes, thank you, Crazy – um, Glenda.’ She shut the door on our nosy neighbour and her mangy cats.

  ‘Joshie,’ Mum added, pulling the box into the kitchen, ‘stop that dog barking or we’ll get a visit from the landlord.’

  ‘No barking,’ I told Frenchy quickly, ‘or Mr Moustache Man will make you sleep on the balcony.’

  Then I turned to Mum. ‘What’s in the box? WHAT’S IN THE BOX?’

  ‘Calm down, Joshie,’ Mum said. ‘The box is for you, but it’s so you can’t open it till I get home from work.’

  My jaw dropped. ‘But MUM –’

  ‘DO NOT OPEN THE BOX,’ she said. ‘Not till I get home tonight. Promise?’

  ‘Okaaaaaay,’ I said.

  But this was exactly like telling the chicken not to cross the road. I NEVER follow instructions. I just HAD to know what was inside.

  I knew Mum was about to leave for work, because she did the exact same things in the exact same order, as usual:

  1. She put on her lab coat.

  2. She took her keys from the hook by the door and spun them around her right pointy finger three times.

  3. She pressed on the lids of each of the ten pens in the top pocket of her lab coat.

  If you didn’t already know it, you’ll soon see:

  The other thing you should know about Mum? I have to remind her what normal mums do before they leave for work. And I pretty much have to remind her EVERY day.

  I said, ‘Muuuum! Aren’t you forgetting something?’

  She looked at me blankly. Then it dawned on her. ‘Oh, sorry!’ she said, and strode back into the room to give me an awkward hug. She planted a big kiss on my forehead.

  I rolled my eyes and smiled, like Dad and I used to when Mum was awks about stuff.

  ‘Have a good day at school,’ Mum said. ‘Oh hang on, when is your big painting due?’

  ‘Today,’ I groaned loudly. ‘But I don’t want to talk about it.’

  We had to do a painting for art, and mine was a DISASTER. Everyone else in class had almost finished theirs, but I kept having to paint white over all my previous attempts because they SUCKED.

  ‘What’s your painting of?’ asked Mum.

  ‘A snowman in a snow storm,’ I said with a straight face.

  But Mum didn’t get it. As usual. ‘That sounds great,’ she said.

  I sighed. What made it worse was that the Ginger Nut twins were doing family portraits and they kept telling everyone theirs were masterpieces. The suck-ups even took their paintings home to keep working on them. SUPER SUCK-UPS!

  Mum planted another kiss on my forehead, way too close to my eye. ‘Just paint whatever is in your heart,’ she said. ‘Remember you’ve got this big box to look forward to. I’ll try and get home around the time you do.’

  ‘Sure you will,’ I said, knowing she wouldn’t be home till dinnertime. As usual.

  Mum gave me a stern look. ‘Well, since you scared off the last babysitter, I’m going to have to,’ she said.

  I can’t believe Mum was still angry about that. What was the big deal? All I’d done was tie a few bedsheets to our balcony rail.

  It wasn’t MY fault the babysitter thought Frenchy and I had run away. And it wasn’t MY fault the babysitter got soaking wet looking for us during a thunderstorm …

  ‘Right, I’m off to work,’ Mum said. ‘Just make sure you get to school on time. I don’t want another note from Mr Trunkface.’

  As soon as Mum shut the front door behind her, I jumped up and ran over to the box.

  First, I peered at it from every angle. It was a normal cardboard box, but it was . Almost as long as our kitchen table. Frenchy was sniffing all around it. ‘What’s inside, Frenchy?’ I asked.

  He gave a little whimper and started pawing at the box. But I couldn’t understand what he was saying, because the only French word I know is

  I was curious, but there were at least three quite good reasons why I shouldn’t open the box:

  1. Mum had told me not to (and if anything went wrong I’d be in BIG FAT TROUBLE).

  2. Last time I opened something from Mum’s work when I wasn’t meant to, I ended up getting chased down the street by a hologram of a lion.

  3. I had to get to school on time to finish my painting (or Mr Trunkface would make me write lines for the rest of my life).

  The problem was, Mum had said, ‘DO NOT OPEN THE BOX’ but all I heard was, ‘open the box’. See, I have a really serious disease called Selective Hearing.

  And so carefully – CAREFULLY – I peeled back the tiniest corner of cardboard to look inside. Just a little corner. Nothing Mum would notice. In red writing, I saw the words:

  ROBOTICS INSTITUTE

  AUTHORISED PERSONNEL ONLY

  Which basically meant not me. It meant Mum. She’s the boss at the Robotics Institute, which is why she had to be the one to open the box.

  Maybe if I hadn’t seen the BIG RED BUTTON, I would have stopped right there. Maybe I would have just gone to school.

  But the button said ‘PRESS TO OPEN’ and I really wanted to. I know I just told you I don’t follow instructions, but I do follow COOL ONES!

  I moved closer to get a better look. Suddenly, a bright light came on. Frenchy started barking. ‘Stop that!’ I said, holding him back by his collar. ‘You’ll get us in trouble with Mr Moustache Man.’

  I just had to open the box now. I mean, there was a bright light AND a big red button.

  And the button said, ‘PRESS TO OPEN’. It didn’t say, ‘WAIT UNTIL YOUR MUM GETS HOME, WHICH WILL BE LATE LIKE ALWAYS’.

  PLUS I had started to get that funny feeling inside my stomach. I call it The Itch. I always get The Itch before I do something exciting.

  I leant forwards. My finger hovered over the button, getting clo
ser, closer, closer. Frenchy started barking again.

  Just then a voice came from inside the box. ‘DO NOT PRESS THE BUTTON!’

  I nearly jumped out of my hoodie. ‘Strike Me Down!’ I yelped.

  I looked around but there was no-one else in the room. My heart was pulsing like a super-charge of electricity. Frenchy started growling.

  ‘Are you talking to me?’ I asked the box.

  A whirring noise came from inside the box. Then the voice said: ‘I can tell from your voice patterns that you are Joshie Hectic. Therefore, the answer to your question is YES.’

  Now I was beginning to feel freaked. Was there a person in there? But the voice didn’t sound human. It sounded electronic, like Mum’s phone when she asked it a question.

  But Mum’s phone didn’t actually know what I was doing. And it definitely didn’t know what I was thinking about doing next.

  This was getting

  There was a whirring noise again. ‘Please stand back. Instructions have been given,’ said the electronic voice. ‘This box is not to be opened until your mother is home.’

  ‘I’m not even near it!’ I lied.

  ‘My infrared sensor reads body heat. You are 12 centimetres from the button,’ said the electronic voice. ‘Therefore I conclude you are planning to open the box.’

  By now, Frenchy was going crazy.

  He was racing around, barking and pawing at the box. I was about to tell him to stop when I felt The Itch again. This time The Itch gave me an idea that was probably even better than Nutella and popcorn toast.

  ‘Frenchy, come here,’ I said.

  I said this in the voice I usually use when I want a cuddle. Frenchy looked at me with his big brown eyes and for a moment I felt bad. I wasn’t going to cuddle him. I had something VERY different in mind.

  I picked him up and took his right front paw in my hand. Then I leant towards the box.

  The button glowed and the electronic voice warned, AGAIN, ‘Do not press the button.’

  ‘I won’t,’ I said.

  I placed Frenchy’s paw on the button. Then three things happened very quickly.

  1. The lid opened super-fast, like an automatic door with a jet engine!

  2. An eerie fog wafted from the box.

  3. Frenchy did the world’s stinkiest fear fart (you can guess what that is).

  As Frenchy and I watched, a kind of super-fancy metal-man sat up inside the box. He placed one hand on each side and pulled himself up to standing.

  Then he stepped smoothly out of the box and onto our kitchen floor. He was covered in a kind of white metal, except for his joints, which glowed blue.

  You wouldn’t believe the -tech of it! It was like a super-charged car engine, with the metal cogs of a clock from the future, combined with the tiny parts from inside a computer.

  ‘Wow! What are you?’ I gasped, circling the strange metal-man thingy.

  ‘To be precise,’ he said, ‘I’m an artificially intelligent, shape-shifting droid.’

  My jaw dropped. ‘Awesomeness!’ I said. Because you know what a droid is, right?

  Can you believe it?! A real-life droid! It was the coolest thing that had happened to me in ages – although to be fair, the arrival of a strange droid in our home wasn’t as surprising as you might think.

  Once you get to know my crazy scientist mum, you’ll understand that anything is possible. Anything except normal, that is.

  A thousand thoughts flew through my head all at once. ‘Are you a new breed of cyber human?’ I asked. ‘Or on a secret mission for the CIA, or the FBI or something?!’

  The droid looked at me. ‘Negative. I am part of a secret program called R.A.D. D.A.D.’

  ‘Oh,’ I said, a little disappointed. That didn’t sound so cool. ‘What does that stand for?’

  ‘It is not standing for anything,’ the droid said. ‘It is not sitting for anything either. It means Robotic Assistance Droid for Daytime and After-hours Duties.’

  Is it just me or does that sound like some sort of droidy babysitter? I know I’ve scared off my share of babysitters, but that’s only because I don’t need a babysitter anymore. I am ten years old, after all.

  ‘I am programmed to look after you when your mother is at work,’ the droid added.

  ‘So, like, all the time?’ I said.

  ‘Negative. There are 7 days in a week. That is 168 hours or 1080 minutes –’

  ‘Chill out,’ I said, rolling my eyes. ‘I didn’t actually mean all the time.’

  ‘I am not overheating,’ the droid said.

  I started giggling. I mean, the droid was pretty awesome but he was a total geek, too. ‘Oh man, we have to work on your personality,’ I told him.

  ‘This is my generic conversation program. I have 257 possible personalities to choose from,’ the droid said.

  ‘Could you just be a bit cooler?’

  ‘Affirmative. How many ice-cubes would you like me to produce?’

  I rolled my eyes at Frenchy. If I was being my usual self, I would have tested out all 257 personalities straight away. He needed a much cooler personality. But there would be plenty of time for that. First I wanted to see what the droid could actually do.

  ‘What has Mum programmed you to do?’ I asked.

  ‘I am programmed to be your babysitter,’ the droid said. ‘And it is breakfast time. Would you like some toast -?’

  Frenchy started barking at the word toast. Oops!

  ‘Sorry, Frenchy,’ I said quickly. ‘We don’t use the T-word here, okay?’ I told the droid. ‘Mum brought home a high-tech toaster a few weeks ago and it fell in love with Frenchy.

  It fed him toast until he was so fat he got stuck in the dog door.’

  Frenchy barked even louder.

  ‘Besides,’ I added, ‘I’ve already eaten. But what are you making for lunch?’

  ‘Checking pre-programming,’ said the droid. He started making a noise like a games console loading a new game. ‘Your mother has a pre-command for vegan stew for Tuesday school lunches,’ the droid informed me.

  Yuckkk! My stomach squirmed. Then I saw the time and realised I was going to be late for school. ‘Oh no!’ I groaned. ‘The bell goes in twelve minutes. Even when I run my fastest, I can only get there in fourteen. Which means I’m going to be late for art class, and my painting is due today - and it’s still just a white canvas!’

  ‘I will be taking you to school and bringing you home,’ the droid answered. ‘That is my first priority. Please get your schoolbag while I create your goggles.’

  ‘GOGGLES?’ I said. ‘What do I need goggles for?’

  ‘They will protect your eyes when we travel at MEGASPEEDS. Creating your goggles now.’

  I didn’t know what MEGASPEEDS were, but I could hardly wait to find out.

  The droid’s eyes started spinning in their sockets and made a sound like when Mum uses the blender to make her horrible kale and broccoli smoothies. Then two clear silicon circles popped from the droid’s eyes and into his hands. ‘Your goggles,’ he said.

  I put them on. It felt like they were trying to suck my eyeballs out of my skull. ‘You mean eyeball-suckers!’ I corrected him.

  ‘Eight minutes and 54 seconds until school time,’ the droid said. ‘Calculating required MEGASPEED to arrive on time. Please choose your mode onscreen:

  I gaped at him. ‘You mean, using one of these will get me to school in time?’

  ‘That is correct,’ the droid said.

  The Itch in my tummy was going crazy again. It was like I was being tickled by a thousand spider-monkey fingers. I didn’t know what would happen, but I had a feeling it was going to be TOTAL AWESOMENESS!

  ‘AFRICAN CHEETAH mode,’ I said immediately. But then I thought about how cool it would be to fly. ‘No, wait! Let’s go for KILLER BEE.’

  The droid’s white-metal body began to shift. Which meant I was about to find out exactly what a shape-shifting droid does!

  All at once, his legs started to bend ou
t at strange angles. His eyes blew out like giant bubble-gum bubbles until they were the size of bowling balls.

  ‘BUUUUUUZZZZZ … I calculate we have a 98.9 per cent chance of remaining undetected by curiouzzz neighbourzzz in apartmentzzz 22, 23 and 25 if we leave via the balcony,’ the droid said in his electronic killer-bee voice.

  ‘Good idea,’ I said, although I had no idea how he knew about Crazy Cat Granny, the Ginger Nut twins and Mr Moustache Man.

  Then I realised something else. ‘We need to keep you right? Which means we can’t arrive at school in front of all the kids either.’

  ‘Affirmative,’ buzzed the droid. ‘If anybody findzzz out about me, I will be recycled. And your mother will need a new job.’

  I gulped. It was bad enough that I’d taken the droid out of the box when I’d promised not to. But making Mum lose her job at the Robotics Institute? That would destroy her. And now that Dad was gone, if Mum lost her job we’d be out on the street. But since she would probably kill me anyway, maybe becoming homeless was the least of my worries.

  ‘We’d better land at the school’s back gate,’ I said. ‘Nobody goes in that way.’

  ‘Affirmative,’ said the droid. ‘The back gate lowerzzz our chance of detection by 78 per cent. But you must stay on my back until I confirm that it’zzz safe to dismount. Nobody will be able to see uzzz if my electro-mirror camouflage panelzzz are activated.’ Then he moved one of his wings so the light in the lounge room bounced from one of his panels right into my eye.

  I cheered. ‘An electro-mirror? That’s pretty We’ll be invisible?’

  ‘Affirmative,’ said the droid. ‘But Joshie, we need to leave in the next 10.6 secondzzz to arrive on time. Please climb on.’

  I didn’t need to be asked twice. I grabbed my bag and started scrambling onto his back.

  ‘STOP! STOP!’ the robotic bee buzzed. ‘never put your handzzzz near my stinger!’