impressive. That kind of programming had been available for years.
Dr. Weiskopf played another note.
Euterpe answered.
The scientist played a series of five tones.
The robot repeated them perfectly.
Just as Rachel was beginning to wonder what this was all about Dr. Weiskopf started to play a tune. To her astonishment, the robot began to sing along with himânot merely repeating the notes, but working in multi-toned harmony!
Dr. Weiskopf glanced sideways. Catching Rachelâs eye, he raised his own eyebrow, as if to ask, âNow are you impressed?â Then he returned his attention to the music. He began to play faster, as if testing the limits of the robotâs ability. Euterpe kept pace with him. Soon the grid of lights on the robotâs chest began to flash, creating a rhythm and pattern that seemed to match the music.
Suddenly, Euterpeâs notes went soaring above those of the pennywhistle in a thrilling descant. The sound was like nothing Rachel had ever heard before, some strange combination of a human voice and a flute. Noâwait. Now it was like a trumpet, quavering, hovering over a note, then diving onto it and carrying it down with a series of trills into a deep bass tone that sent a shiver trembling down her spine.
Dr. Weiskopf was sweating now, as if it was all he could do to keep up with his robot. Euterpeâs lights flashed merrily, including a pair that shone forth from the eyes in the Beethoven-like face.
The duet (or duelâRachel was never quite sure which it was) went on until Dr. Weiskopf finally put down his whistle and wiped his brow. Euterpe went right on playing, toying with the themes its creator had offered, trying variations, using different tones and voices.
The music was so beautiful that Rachel hugged herself with pleasure.
âIâm glad you like it,â said Dr. Weiskopf softly. âOf course, thatâs not what Iâve really designed her for. Itâs just a little trick that works off her main program.â
âLittle trick?â asked Rachel.
âOh, yes.â Dr. Weiskopf smiled. âHer real purpose is much greater. You might even say itâs ⦠cosmic!â
Roger could hardly believe his eyes. The sight of Tripton Duncan Delmar Davis standing over a burly security guard who was cradling his head in his hands and moaning softly was strange enough. But the fierce-looking robot rolling in slow circles while a bellowing Ray Gammand tried to escape from its metallic clutches was almost beyond belief.
âPlasmagoric,â muttered Wendy, who was standing beside Roger.
This sight would actually have been amusing, were not Ray so clearly terrified.
What was amusing was the sight of Staff Sergeant Artemus P. Brodyâhead of the islandâs security force and no fan of the A.I. Gangâtrying to get his footing on a floor full of ball bearings.
Roger winced as Brodyâs feet went flying out from under him and he crashed to the floor with the full force of his two hundred pounds. He nudged Wendy, in an attempt to keep her from laughing out loud. There was no love lost between the Wonderchild and the head of security.
Brodyâs bellow of anger was cut off by a sharp voice from behind them. âSergeant Brody, stop this nonsense and get to your feet at once!â
It was Dr. Hwa.
Brody scrambled to his feet and snapped his boss a salute. Immediately his legs flew out from under him and he hit the deck again. Fortunately for Brody, he landed on the most well-padded portion of his body.
âSergeant Brody!â snapped Hwa again.
The furious tone in his voice bothered Roger; it didnât sound right coming from the usually calm scientist.
Like the rest of the kids, Roger was fond of the diminutive Dr. Hwa. Even if he wouldnât take their warnings as seriously as they wished, he had done all he could to make their stay on Anza-bora Island pleasant, including providing them with access to everything