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Within the Hexagon Tex Hex sat at a desk surrounded by equations, schematics and several old mugs of cold coffee. The monitors behind him displayed yet more schematics with enticing titles such as “Super Death Laser” and “Mega Kerium Kannon.” He gnawed at the end of his already terribly bedraggled pencil.
It seemed the computers were going to be in use for the foreseeable future.
I should probably just buy the damn part. At this rate there’s no stealing it quietly.
The yellow-clad robot was about to casually walk away as if he hadn’t intended to cannibalise the base’s computers for spare parts when Tex’s head snapped up from the desk. Thunderstick let out an involuntary buzz in surprise.
“Thunderstick!” his boss sounded almost crazed with desperation. Oh great, here it comes… “You robots are good at math, right?”
“That’s a st-stereotype,” Thunderstick grumbled.
“Well it’s true, ain’t it?”
Tex shuffled the papers on the desk, producing a large diagram covered in messy, frustrated math. Spreading the paper out over the rest of the mess he looked up at Thunderstick pleadingly. He glanced it over. Tex was fine enough with math, but by the look of it this was literal rocket science. And it just so happened Thunderstick’s database had the oddest collection of formulas packaged in there.
“Tsk,” he tutted grabbing Tex’s pencil, “well first off all a this is jus’ extra work.” He drew a big X over a chunk of Tex’s calculations. “An’ you got the whole-whole equation here wrong, you’re going to have to take your energy output, convert it from volts to joules and divide by pi.”
Tex looked equal parts baffled and relieved. “Right, right, so what’s pi again?”
“It’s pastry with fruit-fruit an’ stuff in it.”
“Not food pie, math pi.”
Thunderstick’s ocular display twitched.
“Help, I broke Thunderstick!”
Sandstorm looked lazily up from the lounge couch, his nail file pausing only long enough for him to give a very sarcastic “oh no.”
Cactus Head poked his eyes out from behind a pile of welded metal and circuits. His latest personal project, whatever it was. He unclipped his welding mask.
“What did you do?”
“Nothin’ honest! Just asked him for some help with the Kerium Kannon.”
Cactus Head listened to the monotone, somewhat stuttering string of digits steadily streaming from Thunderstick. The robot had snapped the chewed-up pencil in his gloved hand and his eyes were a mess of static. Sandstorm wandered in after them with a bag of popcorn.
“You didn’t. ”
“I didn’t what?”
“Ask a robot for pi!”
Tex winced, “is, uh, that a bad thing?”
“It is on a glitchy old model like Thunderstick. Did you specify to what decimal point or just ask him for the whole thing?”
“I, uhh…” Tex muttered sheepishly “the second one I guess.”
Cactus Head shook his head in disappointment. “This is going to call for a manual reboot. Tex, get ready to catch. You!” He jabbed a finger at Sandstorm “Out!”
Sandstorm slunk away munching his popcorn and muttering something unsavoury about machines.
“Catch? Catch what?” Tex stood awkwardly by the malfunctioning robot.
“Eight, zero, six, six, fi-five, four, nine, nine, one, one, nine, eight, eight, one…”
Cactus Head had crawled underneath Thunderstick’s jacket and reached up to unclip his belt. Tex wondered if he should be looking away for this. He made sure he was in a position to shield the robot from the looks of anyone who might wander in. Thunderstick’s baggy pants fell down to his knees. Tex whipped his head in the other direction. Staring somewhere up at the room’s ceiling he could hear Cactus Head fiddling around with the panel on Thunderstick’s hip. Tex was no stranger to seeing Thunderstick naked, but with him in such a condition it didn’t seem proper to be peeking.
“Two, six, five, four, two, five, two-two- two , seven, eight, six, two, fi-ZZZRRCHT”
Thunderstick seized up as though he had been shocked by lightning then slumped over. Tex staggered as the dead weight of the sturdy steel man toppled onto him, knocking him breathless with an “oof!” He grabbed his subordinate around the waist and awkwardly lowered himself and the robot to a kneeling position. It was unnerving to be this close to Thunderstick and not hear his internal machinery whirring and clicking away. His usually yellow-glowing eyes were dark where his head rested on Tex’s shoulder.
Cactus Head tapped his fingers together nervously. Within Thunderstick’s chest, fans began to turn and processors began to noisily chug along. Yellow eyes flickered asynchronously then lit up with their familiar glitchy display. The cyborg let out a relieved breath.
“I’m gonna kill-kill yew.”
Tex dropped Thunderstick like a bag of hot rocks. He fell to all fours and glared up at his boss.
“There, there. You’re all better now.” Cactus Head patted Thunderstick’s steel cranium with a tiny robotic hand.
“Oops?” Tex shrugged apologetically.
Thunderstick made a grab for him, but stumbled over his pants. The glares of his two subordinates on him, Tex dissolved into smoke and flew away. Best to let them cool down for a while. Stampede’s Kerrium Kannon could wait.