Crashdance

A "My Life as a Teenage Robot" Fanfic

Chapter Six – She Ain't Heavy, She's My Sister

When you're a nine-foot-tall robot, it's tough to sneak anywhere, especially when your every footstep cracks the sidewalk and shakes the earth.  But XJ-8 had to try.  It turned out to be a little easier with the motorized treads deployed from her feet.  Fortunately, this part of town was usually empty on Saturday nights; only one car had to veer around her as she rumbled across the street and down the block.  She didn't know where she was going; she wasn't even heading in the direction of home.  Something inside of her electronic mind simply needed to get far, far away from the high school gymnasium.

She came upon a quiet city park.  A quick optical scan revealed that there was nobody around: only two stray dogs, fourteen squirrels, and twenty-two birds.  She should be able to rest and think there, without disturbing anyone, or without being disturbed.  She walked over to a beautiful park bench, and sat down – only to hear the shriek of wood and metal as the bench was crushed beneath her.

"Awkwardness tolerance exceeded," her synthesized voice bellowed.  Her mighty shoulders slumped forward.  "Initiate Crying Mode."  Streams of water flowed down her rounded face like miniature waterfalls.  A small pair of wipers extended over her eyes, and started rocking back and forth.  She simply sat like that for a few minutes, occasionally breaking the night's stillness with a spoken monotone "Boo-hoo, boo-hoo."

Then she replayed her memory tapes at high-speed, going over the night's events so far.  "Analysis of First Date log records.  Social interaction – failure.  Dance activity – failure.  Embarrassment avoidance – failure.  Recommended course of action – date termination."

"Wow, my first date in six months, and I'm getting dumped already."

XJ-8's head snapped up in surprise.  Someone had silently approached her while she was in Crying Mode, and was standing only three point six meters away.  She ran a quick cross-reference against her face-recognition routines, and … was startled by the result.

"Drew-for-short?" she queried.

Drew rolled his eyes; now wasn't the time to argue about names.  "Mind a little company?"  He raised his hands, revealing a large quart-sized can in each one.  "I come bearing gifts – passed a gas station on the way here.  Quaker Slate motor oil.  High performance synthetic blend.  Yummy."

She sat still for a few seconds, then cautiously reached out and took a can from him.  She sipped a drink of oil, while Drew fumbled trying to get the spout into his own can.  "I never could get the hang of these things," he chuckled awkwardly.

Suddenly, she turned to speak.  "I did not expect to see you again after my erroneous performance at the dance.  I calculated a seventy-eight percent probability that you would not return."

Drew sighed deeply, tracing his finger around the rim of his can.  "I did come pretty close to bailing out on the evening myself.  I only came back to the gym to tell Brad and Jenny that I was going home."

"Then why have you not yet returned to your home?"

"Well, I didn't want to miss the robot catfight," he smirked.  Then his face grew sad and serious.  "And once that was over, after you'd helped save all those kids … I heard what they said to you, and I saw you run off.  And … I followed you.  You know, XJ-8, your sister is probably worried sick about you."

"Concern is unnecessary," XJ-8 replied.  Drew thought that he could almost detect a huff in her voice.  "I am fully programmed and equipped for self-defense."

"I don't doubt that.  But that's not the only reason I followed you."

She watched him wrestle to find his words.  "I owe you an apology.  A big one."

He rested his oil can on the ground, and lowered his head.  "I've heard the kids making fun of you all night.  They've been making fun of me, too.  Just typical stupid stuff, all night long – stuff I should be used to by now.  And all night long, all I cared about was how mad, and embarrassed, and uncomfortable I was.  Me, me, me.  I figured that you didn't even notice them.  But when they laughed at you after you crushed the robot – I saw the look on your face, and I suddenly realized something for the first time tonight."

He didn't know if she was listening or not; it was hard to register a reaction from her, but he kept talking anyway.  "I realized that you had feelings too.  Just like Jenny.  Just like me.  I haven't treated you any better than any of those idiots back in the gym.  And heck, I'm supposed to be your 'date'.  So … I'm sorry, XJ-8.  It was stupid and selfish of me.  I mean, being a robot, I should've understood how you felt … more so than anyone else."

An awkward silence hung in the cool evening air, with only a few chirping crickets providing background noise.  Drew began to wonder if she'd heard him at all.  Maybe this was how she showed anger.  Maybe she didn't even understand what he was trying to say.

Then she finally shrugged her shoulders, with a loud, mechanical sigh.  "I have been trying to understand human behavior.  It seems that groups of humans establish a standard of appearance and behavior, and attempt to conform to the standard.  Collective opinion then compares individuals to the standard to judge suitability for inclusion or exclusion."

Whoa.  Gotta let that one rattle around my brain for a second.  He realized that it boiled down to a simple truth.  "Yeah, you're right – kids will shun people who are different than they are.  They do that to everyone, not just robots."

"But I was the largest and most massive individual at the dance tonight," she said, her mouth-grill drooping into a frown.  Her once-inanimate eyes now displayed her sadness to the world.  "Being the largest means that I am furthest from the accepted standard for the group.  In summary, I am not normal, and therefore am not welcome to participate in social activity."

"Well, I don't know if I'd say that …"

"One of the girls instructed me to 'Get lost, fatso.'"

"Ouch," he mumbled.  His suspicions were confirmed, all right – her feelings were hurt.

XJ-8 tipped back her can of motor oil, quickly emptying it into her reservoir.  She was about to toss the empty can into a wastebasket, when he stopped her.  "Hey … I really haven't touched my motor oil.  I don't actually need it.  But I'll swap you for that empty, if you're done with it."

She watched with interest as they exchanged oil cans.  Drew held up the empty can … and suddenly it began to ripple with waves of silver-green.  Thin silver tendrils snaked up from his palm, encircling the can, which started to soften into a soft silvery mush.  Then the syrupy mass was absorbed, right back into his hand and up his arm.

He smirked at XJ-8.  "Now that, folks, is not normal."

She actually showed a touch of shock at the little demonstration.  "It would appear that Jenny provided me with an incomplete description of your functionality.  Please explain what just happened to the can."

Drew shook his head, laughing.  "Here's the short version.  My body is made up of lots and lots of tiny nanobots – bezillions of them – weird little things.  When I absorbed the can, that's sort of how I eat, for lack of a better word.  The nanobots use the atoms from the can to make, well, more nanobots.  Pretty freaky, eh?"

He got serious again, and looked into her face.  "So believe me when I tell you that I understand how you felt back there in that gym.  Because I know how it feels to be not normal.  It just plain sucks sometimes, and you're frustrated because you can't do anything about it.  It's just what you are."

A soft tone warbled from XJ-8's mouth, which Drew decided must have been a robotic moan.  "It would be better to be normal, but that would require extensive reconstruction of my chassis … with low probability of success.  Searching for possible alternatives …"

"I've got an 'alternative' for you," he interrupted.  She turned, eager for his suggestion.

"Just head back to the dance, and don't worry about it."

XJ-8 cocked her head, a bit confused.  "Faulty suggestion.  If I do not change anything about myself or my behavior, how can I increase my acceptability to the group?"

"What I'm trying to say is … maybe the opinion of the group just isn't that important."

Motors whined as she raised a thick metallic arm, and started tapping her chin.  "Confusing … I had not considered that possibility.  When Jenny instructed me in proper social behavior this afternoon, she said that group opinion was very important … it was necessary to become 'popular'.  She provided me with numerous printed study materials."

"Printed study materials?" he wondered.  "Like what?  An advanced sociology textbook?"

"Teen Yak Magazine," answered XJ-8.

Drew rocked back in forth with laughter.  "I'm sorry, I'm sorry … yeah, that sounds like Jenny.  Yeah, popularity is definitely important to her.  Listen … I'm not saying that it's not important.  It's just not the most important thing in the world.  What's the good of being popular … in being normal … if you make yourself miserable doing it?"

She rolled that idea over and over in her head a few times.  "If I return to the school," she said, hesitantly, "there is a high probability that the others will laugh at me."

"High probability nothing," he snorted.  "I guarantee you they'll laugh at you."

"They will laugh at you as well, Drew-for-short."

"Absolutely."

"I still do not understand," her monotone voice boomed.  "If we return to the dance, then we will be laughed at, which will increase awkwardness levels beyond acceptable limits.  You do not suggest any modification of our behavior or appearance to prevent this from happening.  Then tell me … what do you propose to do about group reaction?"

Drew rose to his feet melodramatically.  "XJ-8, there's an old human saying that comes in very handy for situations like this."  He grinned a wicked grin.  "Screw 'em."

XJ-8's metal face twisted into an approximation of a confused-puppy look.  She raised a huge, round finger, the top flipped open, and she deployed a power drill bit.

"No, no," he chuckled.  "Let's put it this way – were you actually enjoying yourself back at the dance?  Forget about the other kids for a moment.  Were you enjoying yourself?  Brad told me that this is only the second time you've been out on your own.  It must have all been pretty overwhelming."

She thought for a moment.  "The gyrating body motions were confusing, and the rhythmic sound patterns were uncomfortably loud … but the strobe light did have a very pleasing sequence of flashes.  It reminded me of a beautiful Fourier transform algorithm."

"Wow, you're a party animal," he said, rolling his eyes.  "So would you like to go back?  Technically, I'm still your date for the evening."

"Hmmm …" her eyes blinked as she thought about it.  "No."

Drew slapped his forehead.  That was a waste of a pretty good monologue.

She continued.  "It was an interesting experiment for my social interaction circuits … and it was enjoyable to share a common experience with my big sister.  But if I go back, I will still be the tallest and the largest participant, and I will be the most "not normal" girl there.  I will exceed my awkwardness tolerance.  Plus, they will call me 'Fatty'."

Drew groaned with frustration, and thought about just giving up … but this was all his mess, and he had to clean it up, somehow.  Not just to salvage the evening for XJ-8 … but for Jenny and Brad, as well.  She was hung up about going back to the dance because she didn't want to be the odd one out in the crowd; she didn't want to stick out like a sore thumb.  Well, you're the size of a forklift, of course you're going to stick out!  But just giving her a punch on the shoulder and a "Suck it up, kid!" wasn't going to help tonight.  She doesn't want to be the biggest one there …

A smile snuck its way onto his face.  He wrapped his hands around one of her giant fingers, coaxing her up off of the ground.  "Load your dancing program into your main memory, XJ-8.  I'll explain on the way back to the school."

Jenny nervously wrung her hands together, worried for her little sister.  She'd walked around the gymnasium twice already, and hadn't found any sign of her.  She'd checked the baseball field, and none of the kids hanging out by the side of the gym had seen anything.  Emotionally exhausted, she clanked herself down on the curb in front of the school, leaning against a parking meter.  She just wanted to let herself feel lousy for a few moments.  Jenny pulled her legs into her chest, and plopped her chin onto her knees, trying to figure out what to do next.

Her hopes surged momentarily when Brad ran up to her, but sunk again as he shook his head.  "Didn't find her on the football field, or under the bleachers," he panted.

"This all seemed like such a great idea just a few hours ago," she moped.  "She's not used to being outside all alone, Brad."

"Jen, there's no sense in beating yourself up," Brad said, trying to lift her spirits.  "Wherever she is, I'm sure she's all right.  Don't worry, we'll find her."

"Any sign of Drew?"

He shook his head again.  "He must've just gone home, like he said."

Jenny looked into Brad's face with cheerless eyes.  "Some matchmaker I turned out to be.  None of this would have happened if I hadn't brought XJ-8 here tonight.  Maybe this was all a little too much for her.  Aughhh … and I kept telling her all afternoon how much fun she was going to have tonight.  She must feel terrible right now."

She started flexing her shoulder.  "You feeling all right?" asked Brad, concerned.

"Hmm?  Or, just a loose gear, from that little scrap with Sheldon's girlfriend."

"Well, serves you right for trying to make a move on Sheldon," he chuckled.  "Sure didn't take you long to replace me.  You're a pretty fast operator – Mom warned me about girls like you."

"What!?!"  Her pigtails shot up at the accusation, until she realized, of course, that he was joking.  "I guess we were both falsely accused tonight," she groaned.  "I should have known that you guys would never say anything so cruel about my little sister.  I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions."

Brad just smiled back with that easy-going smile he always wore, the one that seemed to say everything's going to be all right.  He grabbed her hand, and helped her back to her feet.  "Come on, let's check back in the gym one last time.  Maybe she came in the back doors while we've been sitting out here."

"Maybe," Jenny said skeptically, as they walked back through the double doors and into the gym.  "Sorry for ruining the dance for you, Brad."

"You're kidding, right?" he laughed.  "I got to dance with you, get launched up to the ceiling, and watch a wicked cool robot fight.  Where am I going to beat that in this town?"

Jenny just shook her head at him, smiling.  "You know, you're a nut sometimes."

Back inside the gym, the DJ was spinning the second set of dance tunes, working the huge subwoofers on the giant speaker system.  The volume level was even louder than before.  The lights had dimmed, and colored spotlights twirled in random circles from the rafters.  It made it very hard to search for somebody – but the girl they were looking for was nine feet tall.  She would have stuck out of the crowd.  Brad and Jenny made a quick walk across the floor of the gym; it was obvious that XJ-8 wasn't there.

Brad leaned towards Jenny, shouting to be heard over the music.  "Maybe she just went home!"

Jenny's face grew sad once more.  "Brad, I'm going to have to take off and start looking for her.  I'll probably have better luck trying to find her from the air."  With a smooth whirr, her pigtails rotated and locked into flight position.

"Look, why not just check home first?  You could give your mom a call, and see if XJ-8 came back there."

Jenny fidgeted with her fingers.  "Umm … Mom doesn't exactly know that she left in the first place."

"You didn't tell her  … oooh."  He winced in sympathy.  "You're toast."

"Thanks for that cheery thought," she smirked.  "I probably should just give my mom a call.  Once she's done freaking out, maybe she can …"

But Brad seemed distracted for a moment; his attention had drifted away from her.  "Do you feel that?" he asked.  "Something must be wrong with that big subwoofer.  It's actually pumping vibrations into the floor.  Hey, there it is again!"

A few feet away, a sophomore was trying to take a drink from a plastic cup, but his soda was jumping and rolling wildly.  Framed pictures of the Tremorton High basketball team started to rock back and forth on the walls.  The DJ flung his arms over his mixing board, trying unsuccessfully to prevent a stack of music discs from falling to the floor.

More of the students came to a standstill, as they noticed the sharp vibrations in the floor.  Jenny allowed herself a small smile.  Footsteps.  It did feel like footsteps, but it was … different somehow.  The rhythm wasn't right.  There were too many rumbles to be coming from just her sister.

The double doors swung open, and Jenny sighed with relief.

XJ-8 lumbered back into the gym, apparently none the worse for wear.  Jenny started running towards her, and Brad followed close behind, weaving around students to make their way across the crowded dance floor.  "XJ-8!" she called out happily, waving her arms.  "Sis, I was so worried about …"

Thud.  Thud.  Thud.  Thud.  More sharp vibrations thundered across the floor … but XJ-8 was standing perfectly still.  And her mouth-grill seemed to be curved into a smile.  Jenny suddenly felt a little confused – what the … what the heck is that?

With a resounding thump, thump, a massive pair of feet walked into the gym.  A mammoth figure ducked his head, and carefully turned sideways, to slide his immense frame through the doors.  His sheer size created an imposing silhouette in the doorway.  He stood over ten feet tall, with a chest nearly as wide, and thick, stocky legs and arms like tree trunks.  More like a walking mountain than a person, he actually managed to do the impossible just by standing next to XJ-8 – he made her look small.  Her head barely came up to his shoulders – his shiny, silvery metal shoulders, running with jagged green stripes all the way down his arms.  Just like the stripes on the rest of his colossal silver-green body.

Jenny stared up with a grin on her face, wondering whether to faint or to laugh.  Brad was the first one to get his voice working again.  "Drew?"

Drew raised an arm to XJ-8, and she rested her own gigantic hand on it.  Then he smiled jokingly with his wide, angular face – bigger than a cinder block – and his voice, which he'd lowered an octave, boomed down at them.

"So, why is everyone just standing around?  Is this a dance, or what?"

CONCLUDED in Chapter Seven