Walking along the lonely desert road the next day, I still did not know what to do. I had spent quite a lot of time reflecting on possible consequences the night before, but was forced to enter hibernation mode around midnight without a solution.
The safest course of action would be to avoid mentioning that I was an android. We could always inform the Walkers in the future, and this would allow me more time to figure out how to broach the topic. The problem was that Jay and I would be required to lie to his parents, and we two were the worst at keeping secrets. While it seemed like a better idea to hide my identity, it could upset our relationship with the couple if they sensed we were not telling the truth.
The other option was to blatantly reveal that I was a robot, and in need of repair. But if I did so, the aging couple might panic and demand my leave, as most humans are prone to do around someone—or something—that was clearly different from them. Although another possibility was that, they being inventors and mechanics, the Walkers may become overly excited and try to take me apart for study. I could easily imagine Jay's parents behaving in either of those equally unpleasant reactions, if I disclosed who I was.
As the piles of assorted mechanical parts became more distinguishable, and we drew nearer to "Ed & Edna's Scrap and Junk," I wished that it had not been my audio that was damaged. Jay knew his parents better than I would, and may have a better idea as to what their reaction would be most like. But because of my deafness, I could not converse with him on the topic.
My brother and I paused beneath the glowing sign of the junkyard, and I saw Jay shout out something that looked like, "Mom, Dad! I'm here!"
Worriedly, I caught his eye, still unsure about how to go about this process. The blue-clothed ninja smiled confidently, and jerked his thumb in the direction of his chest. "Let me handle this," he was silently telling me, and I nodded my agreement. After all, there was not much else I could do.
We walked further inside, and I glanced around at the piles of junk. Hopefully one of them would have the wire I needed, or else we would need to fly over to Ninjago City to continue our search. While I was confident that nobody would object to such a trip, it would leave this visit a waste of time.
Ed and Edna Walker suddenly appeared, rushing to their son and giving him a tight hug. As they turned to greet me, I smiled politely, receiving a pair of beaming grins in return. Edna said something, clearly talking to me, but her mouth movements were too difficult to discern. I looked to Jay helplessly, hoping he knew what to do.
"Zane… now… wire…" I was still mostly unable to figure out what my brother was mouthing, even if it was easier than his parents. Carefully I watched the older Walkers for their reactions. However, their sun-tanned faces did not become suddenly suspicious, frightened, or excited, so I still was unsure of what Jay told them.
Mr. Walker waved his hand around and said a few words with a smile, before he and his wife walked off in the direction of their trailer adorned with colorful lights. The ninja of lightning yanked on my sleeve, so I assumed we had permission to search the junkyard and followed him.
I was led to a zone somewhere behind the trailer, and was pleasantly surprised with a huge selection of wires all gathered up in a mound. We had our choice of insulated or non-insulated wiring, thick or extremely thin, and multiple types of metal. There were exceedingly long wires neatly coiled up, and jumbles of shorter lengths carelessly thrown in the pile. It seemed impossible for the junkyard to not have the type of wire I needed.
I sensed a presence behind me, and turned to see Mrs. Walker walking in our direction with a pencil and pad of paper. She raised the white sheet so I could make out the words, "Let me know if you need anything else."
Smiling at her thoughtful generosity, I responded aloud, "We will. Thank you."
Edna bobbed her head cheerfully, and handed the office supplies to her son before leaving once more. Jay quickly scribbled on a fresh sheet of paper."I didn't say anything about you being a nindroid,"—"nindroid" was the title my team had given me when learning that I was a robot—"but I might have to later, k?"
I nodded in understanding. While I hoped that his parents would not learn of my identity until I was ready, it might become inevitable, especially if we required assistance in finding the correct wire.
The ninja of lightning wrote down something else below his first statement. "Then open up and let's get searching!"
It took an incredibly long time, trying to find the perfect replacement. According to Jay, I was probably created with customized wires, since they were so unusually thin, yet strong. Whatever I was built with, it was not mass produced, making our job even harder. Our procedure consisted of snatching up every metal line in sight, comparing it to the now-cut one sticking out of my chest, and then tossing it in the "wrong" pile. The only detail that helped to shorten our process was that I required an insulated wire, so we could skip all the non-insulated types. But, nevertheless, our job was dull and seemed to never end.
Pick up, compare, throw away. Pick up, compare, throw away. Pick up, compare, throw away.
Occasionally, we would take a break when Jay jotted down something for me to read. For the most part, he wrote complaints about the work and suggestions for speeding it up. I was appreciative that my voice was still operating, so I was able to respond normally despite my inability to hear.
Pick up, compare, throw away. Pick up, compare, throw away. Pick up, compare, throw away.
A couple times, one of my brother's parents would come out to check on our progress and offer to help. I would have to snap my panel closed before they noticed and politely refuse the offer each time, still worried as I was for them to find out my true nature.
Pick up, compare, throw away. Pick up, compare… Double-check… Triple-check…
After around 4.3 hours, our searching suddenly came to an end. It had been nearly at the bottom of the heap where we suddenly came upon a perfect match. Jay started cheering and jumping around in apparent silence, while I laughed in joy.
"About time!" he mouthed, and carefully straightened out the wire to look for any abrasions. My brother of lightning wiped off some dirt, and we shared a happy grin.
Jay scribbled down a statement, which read, "I'm gonna have to rewire you now, which means I need to you to shut down. Don't want to take any chances, ya know?"
I frowned at the words the blue-clad ninja wrote. Originally, I had planned on working jointly with him to replace my audio line. Even if I allowed him the most trust out of everybody to access my inner mechanics, I was still not completely over my fear of being damaged.
But the more I thought about it, the more I realized he was right. If Jay was to accidentally rupture something, it was safer for me to be shut down and not be seriously affected. As much as I disliked the concept of being completely helpless, it was better than having permanent damage done to my body.
After another moment's hesitation, I nodded to indicate my approval.
We walked over to an area that was more out of sight from the trailer, and I sat upon the hard-packed dirt. After double-checking to make sure the Walkers were not about to come out and see Jay rewiring me, I reached into my chest cavity. My fingers traced the mostly-unused power switch, and I was suddenly attacked with another bout of anxiety.
Without warning, I grabbed Jay's wrist and looked seriously into his startled blue eyes. "Please be careful," I told him.
The ninja of lightning blinked once before giving me a broad, assuring smile. "I promise," he mouthed, and I relaxed my grip.
Worry bubbling up within me, I shut my eyes to gather my courage. This is a necessary process. Jay would not purposefully harm me. There was no need to be so concerned. It was not easy as easy as I would have liked to resist the anxieties that threatened to overwhelm me.
With a suppressed sigh, I clicked my power switch.