It certainly has been quite awhile since I've posted to this story - I feel bad about that. Life has gotten a little crazy. I haven't forgotten about this series. I shall do my best to be more on top of this.
And if you like check out my other writings in between these updates - which should be much more frequent now!
Chapter Three
Disregarded Warning
Carl
Todayland August 2037
Do you really think this is such a good idea?" Carl spoke up while he followed behind Wilbur while they climbed up the three sets of stairs to his father's lab – Cornelius' lab. "Do you want to risk getting caught and grounded on your last week of summer break?"
"Carl, will you relax?" Wilbur asked with an eyeroll, finished – finally – walking up the many steps. "And I won't get in trouble. Both my parents are out for the night and aren't meant to be home until late. That is usually how dad's business dinners go anyhow." Wilbur brushed off his long-time robot friend. "I can have the place cleaned before they do."
Carl grabbed Wilbur's arm to put his steps to a halt. He gives the thirteen-year-old a glare once Wilbur finally locked eyes with him. "That's your plan?"
"Yep. And even if I can't … it's not like they'll know I did it. Anyone could have. They won't notice."
"Geez, Wilbur I'm pretty sure they will notice when they walk through the front door."
Wilbur jerked his arm free of his loose grip without a word. He just continued across the marble floor until he stopped in front of the keypad on the far left of the space, which would activate the lift to bring the tube up – to the basement. Before he typed in the passcode, Wilbur turned to look at Carl. He saw how Wilbur was waiting, his head tilted like he needed a further explanation of what he had just said to him. He waved his hand about in a jester for Carl to speak freely.
"Picture this if you will, Wilbur." Carl didn't waste a second more to form his perfect reasoning. "You go down into the family basement, your father's personal lab, a lab he has told you a thousand times not to go into, take his disassembler ray, run about the house to use the ray on the furniture in search of something you won't tell me, and you don't think you will get in trouble for it? That your parents won't know immediately who is responsible?" Carl threw his arms above his head. "I can nearly guarantee your parents will notice their destroyed house! And when they do, not only will I get to say 'I told you so', but you know who will be blamed directly?"
Carl waited for him to say something, but Wilbur only crossed his arms and leaned against the closest invention, allowing him to continue his parent scolding mode.
"They will point their fingers right at you. Knowing you almost all your life, Wilbur, I know you will find some way to shift the blame to me. But of course, that will backfire in your face like it always does. Your father will get onto you about touching his inventions, again, and your mother will ground you far longer than the rest of summer break. Spending the day reversing the mess you created in her house." He crossed his arms.
Wilbur grabbed his chin with both his index finger and thumb – noting in the same way Franny did when in thought – as he listened to the whole speech. Carl waited for him to say something, anything, but Wilbur neither moved nor made a sound.
"Well?"
Wilbur released his chin and only smiled. "I hear ya buddy, but you are just thinking of the worst possible outcome. One that might not even happen." Wilbur faced the keypad once more.
"What do you mean 'might not even happen'?" Carl asked. "Of course it will happen. It always does. You want to know why?" Carl didn't bother to wait for Wilbur to answer before he provided the answer himself. "I'll tell you why, it always happens because you never listen to your wise robot friend."
'Wilbur Matthew Robinson is not permitted in the lab.'
"What do you mean?!" Wilbur asked no one in particular, more asking the surrounding air. "Since when did dad block me off? That has always been the password."
With Wilbur's back turned, Carl slowly and nervously started to back himself out from the room. Each step uttered no sound, his lower body made it down the first staircase before the teen took sign. He grabbed Carl's little antenna atop his head and the stretched part of his body quickly returned to the upper half.
"Carl." Wilbur stared at him with a blank expression, but one well known, he had seen it several times – one too many to count. "Did dad change the passcode so that I couldn't get in with my palm scan?"
"Well – I mean – I don't think – he might have mentioned …" Carl could do nothing but babble.
He didn't want to give Wilbur the new passcode programmed into his system because Cornelius gave him an order not to. He told him that he wanted no one down there due to a construction project that could harm someone if they weren't careful. But Cornelius also programmed him to follow orders from every Robinson family member, thus he knew his systems were about to contradict themselves. Wilbur shot an eyebrow up his forehead with impatience and Carl tapped two of his fingers together.
"Yes, he did."
"Well … what's the new code? I need it to activate the tube."
Carl hesitated while repeatedly tapping his fingers together. "Your father doesn't want anyone to go down there right now. He's got some work going on and it's-"
"Carl," Wilbur stopped him, "what. Is. The. New. Code?"
Carl tried to fight against his programming long enough until Wilbur gave up, but he hopelessly lost. "162738. The new code is 162738."
Wilbur turned back to the keypad. "Thank you." Carl watched him manually type in the changed password and activate the platform that lifted to reveal the travel tube beneath – the only one that led to the basement of the Robinson house. "See ya in a bit Carl." Wilbur saluted before he jumped into the pale-yellow tunnel of thick glass.
Carl began to pace back after a few seconds. Once Wilbur had been gone for five minutes his thin, golden fingers found their way to his mouth were his teeth chewed the metal.
What if he's gotten hurt down there? I haven't been down there since Cornelius told me about the dangerous project, so I have no idea if he's remodeling, expanding, creating a weapon. Carl bumped into a metal shelf that held many of the tools Cornelius used to build his inventions. A few cans of oil, screwdrivers, several hammers, a saw, blow torch, and a drill. He didn't feel anything from the collision, but he still rubbed his chest like any human would. Carl spun back around when he heard the tubes rushing of air start up again. Wilbur's body was lifted back from the basement that navigated beneath the earth. Carl was glad to see that the teen was unharmed, but the relief disappeared the moment he saw the boy was not empty handed. Wilbur held the Disassembler Gun on his shoulder to help carry the weight.
"See?" Wilbur spoke, pulling the ray down to hold with both hands. "Nothing to panic over."
Carl balled his hands at the hips. "There is every reason to panic! If you do this to the house and your parents come back to find that I just let you, you'll be dead and I'll be deactivated!" Carl saluted the teen boy. "Nice knowing you, Wilbur."
Wilbur dropped his arms to hold the ray against the ground with one hand. A ray that was large in size, made of white, blue, and yellow metal. The body of the ray was rounded and simple – the Robinson company logo painted on the side – but beneath it was all the wires, parts, and machines that gave the ray power. At the front were two metal rods, three thin disks led to the ball at the end where the current would build up and fly from when triggered to.
"Carl, you're all wound up. Maybe you should just go into an empty room or something. Just relax."
Carl simply stared at the teenage boy with a blank expression – left eye twitching from irritation.
"Now," Wilbur's voice lost that little touch of concern to return with that cocky tone, "what time did mom say they should be back?"
Carl sighed, knowing he was powerless to stop what was about to happen next. "Around eleven, at the earliest."
Wilbur's grin reached the tips of his ears. "Great!" His chicken legs carried him from the room, down the steps.
Carl covered his eyes with his hand, sighing in disappear. "Maybe once you get grounded, I can finally take that vacation." Carl muttered on his way to follow after Wilbur – already sure he was beginning his remodeling of the house.
Maybe I should try one last time … one can say I didn't try.
Ten–Fifty pm
Carl stood in the great family room with his thumb clamped between his teeth, brows lowered with concern. His LED eyes took in all the dismantled furniture. The couches split in three sections, each leaning on the other piece to create a pile. The shelves a clattered mess of books and wood – Franny's knickknacks shattered or chipped on the linoleum flooring. Treasured photo frames cracked.
Carl … had failed to talk Wilbur out of his plan.
"I need to find it".
Over and over again. Repeated in a constant loop from his lips – nothing more.
Carl snapped his attention to Wilbur when the high-pitched charge started again. Wilbur had finally made his way into the kitchen. First starting in the study, Franny's music lounge, the dining room, the great room and entry way, and now he moved forward to the kitchen. His thin frame stood before the large double fridges. Silver in color with a large black screen on both right-side doors – switching on when tapped against. Carl let a loud audio gasp escape before he charged towards the young teen, but the bluish-purple bolt of energy shot out before he could even reach halfway.
The structure of the fridges glowed in wavering light of blue and purple before it suddenly fell apart – just like every piece of furniture before them. All the food and drinks that were in the cool interior scattered all over the kitchen. Milk jugs exploded against the walls, benchtops, and even the cabinets. Frozen vegetables bouncing along the hard floor, left-over food splattering over surfaces and leaving stains.
"All right," Carl grabbed for the ray, but Wilbur refused to release it, "little buddy, you've gone too far. The entire first floor is a near disaster!"
"I need to find it, Carl." Wilbur finally made eye contact, and the way the boy looked at him made him loosen his grip.
"Why? Why is this so important to you, Wilbur? What is it you are trying to find?! If you just told me what it is, I could just tell you instead of you doing this."
Wilbur remained quiet for the longest time. Carl wasn't sure if he would actually answer him questions, but his mouth finally opened.
"I can't tell you why."
"Oh," both of them frozen in place upon the sudden long silent voice echoed, their eyes glazed in fear, "and why can't you tell him?"
Both Wilbur and Carl turned towards the foyer hall to find Cornelius and Franny standing side-by-side. Each had their arms crossed with a dark, irate look clouding their features.