Read Online The Mysterious Case of the Allbright Academy by Diane Stanley - Free Book Online
Authors: Diane Stanley
Ads: Link
the middle of it was an opening that perfectly fit a piece that looked like a nose. Only, for the screw holes to line up, it either had to go in upside down or inside out. What was with that? I shrugged and bolted it on upside down.
The body was made from eight rectangular plates, each about four times longer than it was wide. They overlapped and attached to a small metal ring at the top, then fanned out and were bolted to a larger metal ring at the bottom. The bottom ring had equally spaced attachment points for three little wheels.
I still had a lot of pieces left, and I noticed unused holes near the top of two of the body plates. I decided thatâs where the arms were supposed to go. There were two pieces that looked like they could be shoulder joints, and they happened to have four screw holes, arranged in a square, matching the plates perfectly.
Unfortunately, I hadnât actually noticed this while I was building the body; I had just put the plates in at random. So now, unless I moved the plates with the holes to their proper location, Iâd have one arm coming out of the robotâs back and the other out of its side. Not good. I had to unbolt four of the plates and switch them around.
Soon my Tin Man (or âTM,â as I now called him) had arms that moved up and down at the shoulder (though they didnât bend at the elbow). Instead of hands, he had little balls with six knobs sticking out of them, like miniature coat pegs. Each ball fit neatly into (and rotated within) a socket, so I assumed they were supposed to spin around.
All that I had to do now was make the thing moveâspecifically, to make the head nod, the arms go up and down, the hands spin, and the wheels roll. Four moving parts. And happily, my rapidly decreasing pile of parts included four different motors, little black boxes of varying sizes with battery compartments (and yup, they had batteries in them!). Each had a small plastic gear sticking out on one side. There was also a mess of gears and cords and pulleys. I lay down on my back, on the hard floor, and closed my eyes, trying to imagine how they would work.
I had gears on my bicycle. One was attached to the pedals, and it was attached to a chain that turned another gear attached to the wheel. (In the case of the bicycle, I was the motor.) My robot kit had four motors, eight gears, and four chains. How hard could this be?
I had to remove some of the body plates (again!) and part of the head, so I could get inside the robot to bolt in the motors and attach the gears. But everything seemed to fit. And though I couldnât test it (since I didnât have the remote control), I felt sure I had done it right. TM could roll forward and turn, nod his head, flap his arms, and spin his little hands. I had used every part. All that remained were the pliers and the screwdriver. Surely they didnât count.
But just for the heck of it I looked the robot overfor any place where they might go. There was a small hole at the top of his head. I had assumed it was there to let sound outâbut now I realized that since the tape player was facing outward, it really didnât need a sound hole. I slid the thin end of the screwdriver into the head, so that only the blue plastic handle stuck out, like a little antenna. It would wobble around when the robot nodded its head, and make a little tick-ticking noise as the metal end tapped against the two motor boxes inside. Maybe that would count as a special effectâaltogether very nice!
But what about the pliers?
And then it came to me. The nose! That weird upside-down nose was just a holder for the pliers. I slid one handle in and let the rest hang out, and grinned. My robot was as goofy and cute as a day-old puppy.
I packed TM up in his box on wheels and rolled him down the hall toward the elevator, feeling absolutely brilliant, in the zone, clearheaded, and full of joy and energy. The world even looked differentâthe
The body was made from eight rectangular plates, each about four times longer than it was wide. They overlapped and attached to a small metal ring at the top, then fanned out and were bolted to a larger metal ring at the bottom. The bottom ring had equally spaced attachment points for three little wheels.
I still had a lot of pieces left, and I noticed unused holes near the top of two of the body plates. I decided thatâs where the arms were supposed to go. There were two pieces that looked like they could be shoulder joints, and they happened to have four screw holes, arranged in a square, matching the plates perfectly.
Unfortunately, I hadnât actually noticed this while I was building the body; I had just put the plates in at random. So now, unless I moved the plates with the holes to their proper location, Iâd have one arm coming out of the robotâs back and the other out of its side. Not good. I had to unbolt four of the plates and switch them around.
Soon my Tin Man (or âTM,â as I now called him) had arms that moved up and down at the shoulder (though they didnât bend at the elbow). Instead of hands, he had little balls with six knobs sticking out of them, like miniature coat pegs. Each ball fit neatly into (and rotated within) a socket, so I assumed they were supposed to spin around.
All that I had to do now was make the thing moveâspecifically, to make the head nod, the arms go up and down, the hands spin, and the wheels roll. Four moving parts. And happily, my rapidly decreasing pile of parts included four different motors, little black boxes of varying sizes with battery compartments (and yup, they had batteries in them!). Each had a small plastic gear sticking out on one side. There was also a mess of gears and cords and pulleys. I lay down on my back, on the hard floor, and closed my eyes, trying to imagine how they would work.
I had gears on my bicycle. One was attached to the pedals, and it was attached to a chain that turned another gear attached to the wheel. (In the case of the bicycle, I was the motor.) My robot kit had four motors, eight gears, and four chains. How hard could this be?
I had to remove some of the body plates (again!) and part of the head, so I could get inside the robot to bolt in the motors and attach the gears. But everything seemed to fit. And though I couldnât test it (since I didnât have the remote control), I felt sure I had done it right. TM could roll forward and turn, nod his head, flap his arms, and spin his little hands. I had used every part. All that remained were the pliers and the screwdriver. Surely they didnât count.
But just for the heck of it I looked the robot overfor any place where they might go. There was a small hole at the top of his head. I had assumed it was there to let sound outâbut now I realized that since the tape player was facing outward, it really didnât need a sound hole. I slid the thin end of the screwdriver into the head, so that only the blue plastic handle stuck out, like a little antenna. It would wobble around when the robot nodded its head, and make a little tick-ticking noise as the metal end tapped against the two motor boxes inside. Maybe that would count as a special effectâaltogether very nice!
But what about the pliers?
And then it came to me. The nose! That weird upside-down nose was just a holder for the pliers. I slid one handle in and let the rest hang out, and grinned. My robot was as goofy and cute as a day-old puppy.
I packed TM up in his box on wheels and rolled him down the hall toward the elevator, feeling absolutely brilliant, in the zone, clearheaded, and full of joy and energy. The world even looked differentâthe
Similar Books
