Diamonds Are a Robot's Best Friend

A "My Life as a Teenage Robot" Fanfic

Chapter Three – Treasures and Mysteries


Jenny had never seen anything like the Marquis Jewelry flagship store, in the ritzy part of downtown.  The windows and shelves were filled with exotic, one-of-a-kind gems that glittered with every color she could imagine.  The jewels sparkled with such a fierce, dazzling light – it seemed as if staring would put her into a trance that she'd never want to wake up from.  The elite of Tremorton high society browsed the store, and if they even noticed Jenny it was only because she was walking next to one of the richest men in the world.

"Oooooh … I've never seen anything like this before!  What are those?  Look at those!  And those!"  Jenny was pointing to everything in sight.

"These mere baubles will not be going to my estate for the exposition.  The more interesting … the larger specimens … are being prepared and cleaned, even as we speak.  Is that something you would be interested to see?"

"Would I ever!"  Jenny clasped her hands together.  "Are we going to see … some of the diamonds that I'm going to model at the show?"  She managed not to giggle.  Hee hee … 'model'!  I love saying that word!  Model model model!

"Not today," answered Marquis.  Seeing her disappointment, he explained.  "Ah, you see Jennifer, my finest craftsmen will be working right up until the final moment to create the most exquisite, the most … unique … jewelry for you.  To take a look now would spoil the surprise, no?"

"I suppose," she sighed, and followed him through a door in the back of the glamorous store.  As large as Marquis Diamonds' flagship store was, it was only on the first floor of a four-story building.  Jenny and Mr. Marquis took a quick, smooth elevator to the building's second floor.

There were long rows of workbenches, covered with specialized machinery whirring and grinding away.  Each workbench was covered with trays of sparkling rocks.  Some benches had human jewelers hunched over them, working on jewels with magnifying goggles.  Others had robot workers – and dozens of worker robots scurried about, carrying boxes and supplies from one workbench to another.  The whole room had a feel of well-ordered busyness to it.

"Wow, you weren't kidding when you said you felt comfortable around robots."

"Of course not.  Now, I want you to see something wonderful.  Follow me, Jennifer."

Maximillian Marquis and Jenny walked over to one of the workbenches and watched one of the most skilled, senior jewelers work on a rough, dirty chunk of rock.  Jenny could see flashes of light, but it certainly didn't seem like something that one of those fancy rich ladies would want hanging around their necks.

"All diamonds start off like this," explained Marquis.  "Their beauty lies buried beneath dead, dark rock, sealed away, hidden from the universe … they are saving their divine essence for he who is bold enough to free them from their tombs."  The jeweler's bench tools started to polish and grind the diamond, and a familiar blue-white color started to emerge.

Marquis stared at the diamond, and his voice slowly grew louder.  "Diamonds are one of the strongest substances known to exist … constant, eternal.  They will survive us, they will survive the planet, they will survive the death of the sun itself.  And yet such strength is coupled with such beauty.  Look at the radiance, at the fire dancing within, brought to life before our very eyes … a piece of perfection has been born … with a shining brilliance wrought forth as if from the forge of the gods themselves!"

Jenny stared at him with an arched eyebrow.  "Wow … you, uh, really like diamonds, don't you?"

He adjusted his ascot, and regained his charming demeanor.  "Forgive me, young lady.  My passions occasionally get the better of me."

Jenny heard a few heavy footsteps, and was suddenly aware of a tall, hulking figure directly behind her.  She turned and looked up, slightly startled, to see a glowering black-and-silver face staring down.

Mr. Marquis smiled.  "Ah, Rojack!  Splendid.  They are ready?"

The massive robot simply made a pointing gesture with a massive forearm.  Marquis and Jenny followed him to a different part of the workshop.  They came to a large table, sitting underneath several powerful-looking drills hanging from the ceiling.  Sitting on the table were six very large, rough, rock-encrusted diamonds, with a dull purple color.  Each diamond had to be at least the size of a football.  The jeweler sitting at the table looked very upset – and nervous, now that his billionaire boss was approaching him.

"What is it?" asked Marquis, concerned.  "There is a problem?"

The jeweler held one of the dull purple diamonds in his hands.  "We were hoping to get the cutting done today for these Jovian diamonds, Mr. Marquis.  But our most powerful laser drill has broken down, and none of the other drills are strong enough to do the job.  And we can't get a replacement delivered in time for the Diamond Expo this week."

Marquis shook his head, with sadness and anger.  "Blast!  These were to be the most spectacular display at the Exposition!"  He bowed to Jenny.  "I must apologize, Jennifer.  These are extremely rare Jovian diamonds, and they were to have been part of the main display at the show.  The display which was to have centered around you, in fact," he added casually.

That got her attention.  "What do you mean, 'was'?"

"Jovian diamonds are extremely rare and extremely tough," explained the jeweler.  "They can only be polished and carved with a high-power laser.  And ours just broke down."

Jenny looked over the laser drill hanging from the ceiling, and tapped her chin, thinking … "You know, I have a whole bunch of lasers.  I have one that's at least fifty times more powerful than this laser drill.  Maybe I could help."

The jeweler gave her a suspicious look.  "Power is fine, but the drill is extremely, extremely accurate.  You would need to make cuts accurate down to the atom."

"It's all right, Jennifer," said Marquis.  "We'll find something else for you to do at the show …"

Something else?!?  Hold on a second!  "No, wait, I can do this!"  A door panel slid open on Jenny's back, and a five-foot laser barrel telescoped out and pivoted over her head, crackling with energy.  Lenses snapped into place to narrow and focus the beam.  She grabbed the rough diamond in both hands, to steady it.  "What shape do you need it cut into?"

The jeweler showed her a rotating, 3D model on a computer screen.  Her eyes extended outward into smaller and smaller sections, like a microscope, and then her laser flashed into to life.  A thin beam started quickly dancing around the rough diamond, cutting away bits of rock, shaping it.  The jeweler looked on, gnawing on his lower lip.  Maximillian Marquis watched with fascination.  Rojack watched too, with a hint of a smile on his face.

The laser stopped, and the jeweler gasped in awe.  On his desk now sat the most perfectly polished Jovian diamond he'd ever seen, sparkling violet, with flashes of white shining from its many facets.  Jenny grinned with the pride of a job well done, then went to work on the other five lumps of rock.  Ten minutes later, six identical, perfectly cut Jovian diamonds sat on the workbench.

"You are truly a wonder," laughed Mr. Marquis, grasping his walking-stick in both hands.  "Thank you, my young friend, thank you."

Jenny shrugged her shoulders and blushed.  "Aww … it was nothing.  I've carved up whole asteroids with that laser before."

"Simply amazing."  He gestured to his towering robot assistant.  "I must tend to some business here for a time.  Rojack here will take you to the third floor, which features a far more comfortable environment.  You are to begin your training for your modeling debut."

She cupped her hands over her mouth to stifle a squeal.  "Well, lead on then!"  She strutted away behind the black-and-silver giant, beaming with a mixture of delight and pride.

Once the elevator doors closed, Maximillian Marquis turned back to the workbench, and admired the six massive violet diamonds.  He picked one up and turned it over in his hands, then spoke to his jeweler.  "It is a perfect cut, yes?  Down to the atom?"

The jeweler grinned.  "We could never have done it ourselves.  Nobody else could have.  With pure Jovian diamonds like these, and such a precision-engineered cut … do you realize what you're going to be able to do with these …"

"Ahh, ahh, ahh," interrupted Maximillian Marquis, grinning wickedly.  "That would spoil the surprise."


The offices of the Tremorton Tribune hummed with activity, and the writers in the newsroom worked with a fever pace to get ready for the next edition.  The clatter of keyboards filled the room, and a constant background of simultaneous telephone conversations made it difficult to hear yourself think.  Brad had to move fast to keep up with the pace that his mentors demanded of him.  He grabbed a pencil and a notepad, and rushed over to the assistant news desk to get his orders for the afternoon.

"All right, Brad, you're doing a great job so far," growled the assistant editor.  "You've learned the most important rule of journalism … everything starts with the facts, and you've got to get the facts straight!"

"Thanks chief," said Brad, madly jotting down notes.

"Don't call me chief.  Now let me hear what you've got."

Brad took a deep breath.  "That's five black coffees, two double cream, one skim milk, two sugars, one milk and sugar and one decaf."  His face, and his shoulders, sunk.  "Will that be everything?"

Somehow the assistant editor was managing to talk to Brad, the telephone, and proofread a story at the same time.  "Get me one of those cheese danishes if there's any left.  And buck up, son!  The Tremorton Tribune is an engine.  A high-powered engine, churning out the news!  And every engine needs fuel!  There are no small jobs at the Tribune, son!"

"But I was, y'know, kinda hoping to write an actual newspaper story, sir!"  Brad interrupted, as politely as possible.  "I mean, I'm not going to get much of a grade for Career Week by fetching coffee and sandwiches!"

"Sandwich!  That's a great idea.  Get me a roast beef on rye.  With that spicy mustard!"

Brad rolled his eyes.  "Yes, sir."

The assistant editor barked a few more instructions into another phone, then turned to Brad.  "Look, son, the jewelry theft was a nice bit.  Good police blotter stuff.  But it's yesterday's news, boy!  Robber steals jewels, robber runs away, robber gets caught, blah, blah, blah.  Where's the hook?  Where's the gimmick?  Where's the two-by-four to the back of the head?  News starts with the facts, but we're selling papers, Brad!  We need stories!  That's what those knuckle-dragging goombahs out there want to read.  They want spectacular!  They want sensational!"

Brad tapped his forehead with his pencil.  "You do realize that the robber was a robot, and it was caught by a teenage robot?  That isn't sensational?"

"Not in this town," he growled back.  Two phones rang, and suddenly he was dealing with two other crises.  "The mayor got caught where?  With how many flight attendants?  Beautiful!"

Brad slumped out of the assistant editor's office, kicking a wad of paper on the floor down the hallway.  "How am I supposed to come up with a sensational story by the end of the week?" he groaned.  "Nothing ever happens at school.  And the assistant editor even thinks Jenny is boring?"

That probably wasn't the whole story.  It seemed like the other news writers that Brad had talked to viewed the Career Week internship as a bit of a joke.  Not to worry, we'll give you a great review at the end of the week.  Now go carry this stack of papers back down to Research!  Brad had certainly learned one valuable lesson about the business world – there was no lower form of life than the intern.

One of the photojournalists saw the look on Brad's face, and called him over to his computer workstation.  "Don't let the old man get you down, kiddo.  Did he give you the 'spectacular-sensational' speech?"

Brad nodded, and the photographer chuckled.  "Look, Brad, all you gotta do is take your camera, go down to some retirement home, find an old geezer who's having their one-hundredth birthday, take their picture, write up a nice piece of sugary fluff about them, and bingo.  There's your project, and your easy 'A'."

"Yeah, I suppose," Brad sighed.  "Doesn't seem like much of a news story, though."

"Oh, and when you take their picture – don't cut off half their body."  He laughed, and tapped a few keys on his workstation.  "The pictures you took of the robbery yesterday are property of the Tribune, but, ah, we figured we'd make a copy of 'em so you'd have something for your school report.  Although, I have to warn you – they really stink!"  He pulled a disc out of his computer, and handed it to Brad.

"Okay, I know, I know.  I need to practice with the camera more," groaned Brad.

The photographer gestured to the giant monitor on his desk.  "Hey, when the software on this monster can't fix your picture, then you know it's really bad!  Take a look at this one."  He tapped a button on the screen, and up came a fuzzy, blurry picture of a sidewalk and some parked cars in front of the Marquis Jewelry store.  There was a swab of light blue and white in the top of the picture.

"I'm guessing that this is your robot friend.  Or at least her legs."  He clicked a few more buttons, and the picture improved dramatically, although is was still hazy.  The sidewalk and the parked cars were now in near-perfect focus, and a pair of fuzzy robot legs hung in the middle of the photo.

Brad grinned, impressed by the computer.  "That is pretty sweet!  I guess I'll just have to make sure I stick to taking pictures of stuff that's standing still next time …"

Something in the picture caught Brad's eye.  "Hey, can you zoom in on this?"

"Sure thing, kiddo.  Zoom in on your friend?"

"No, the blue parked car.  On that front window of the blue parked car!"

A few mouse clicks later, the car window filled the computer monitor.  At this magnification, the image was a little grainy, but …

"Huh.  Something's reflecting in that window.  There's somebody standing on the roof of the jewelry building, just watching the robbery."

The photographer was mildly interested, but Brad's eyes were riveted to the screen.  He recognized what he was looking at.  A tall, hulking metal figure, black with hints of silver trim.  It was holding some kind of remote controller in its hands, and on its chest was plainly visible a double-M design.

"Not somebody.  Some robot.  What did that billionaire dude call him?  Rojack."


Continued in Chapter Four


A/N:  Nice to hear from you Crimson L!  I misses ya when you don't review (pout).  You're half-right on the capitalization.  "Are" is a verb and should stay capitalized, but "a" shouldn't.  Well, that's why pencils have erasers!  As for your plot guesses … well, it just ain't that simple.  And Rojack is quiet, but is certainly not mindless … as a few of our heroes will find out fairly soon … (dum dum dummm)

And to everyone else who's left a review – thank ya thank ya thank ya!