Chapter 5

"But why would you even do that for me? It doesn't make any sense." Thomas' mouth hung open in confusion.

"Let's just say I'm a very nice guy." Harry smiled.

"You're kind to someone who committed a near-murder? That doesn't sound nice, unless you're encouraging it." Tom's eyebrow was arched, this time.

"For the right course, yes," Harry said, pulling the glass of juice before him to his mouth.

Tom stared at him over the lunch table, as he listened to Harrison's throat gulping down the juice in one turn, and analysing the information he thought he was getting.

"So what are you proposing?" he asked as Harry dropped the glass against the table with a thud.

Harry arched an eyebrow at Tom, questioningly.

"I mean - you must want something in return for a good deed, right? It's the I-owe-you-one dilemma; just like in the movies: 'I save your butt, you be my slave.'"

Harrison gave out a soft laughter.

"Please, rephrase," Harry said. "It's a one-good-turn-deserves-another dilemma."

"Huhn?" Thomas scooped a spoon of rice in his mouth.

I might be weird, but this guy is weirder.

"You stopped bullying, I used my connection to reinstate you. Makes sense now, right?"

"Damn no!" he retorted, slamming his hands on the table, such that everyone's attention turned to them. "And I didn't stop bullying, so don't think you did me a favour-"

"No, of course you didn't," Harry said, calmly. "But you did teach the others that justice prevails - I mean, they should be scared of you by now for kicking their leaders butt."

Tom gave out a dry, fake laughter. Harry didn't know if he should smile or frown. Rising to his feet with his unfinished meal, Thomas said, "Now look here, Hairy - or whatever you called yourself - I'm not interested in whatever you're trying to do, and I'm not into any Stop Bullying sect you might be proposing; so stay off my butt!"

"But-" Harry's word trailed off as Thomas walked away. "What kind of person turns a once-in-a-lifetime help from anyone?" he said to no one in particular, sighing. "I-I mean, if Mcbornie turns you down, what highschool could possibly turn you in?"

Harrison looked down on his own half-eaten meal and shrugged. He'd totally lost an appetite to a jerk, he thought. Anderson was surely going to give him an I-told-you-so lecture, that - Harry was sure of.

He was about pulling himself up, when Jocelyn dropped on the now empty seat across Harry.

"Hey, Harry. What was that all about? And where's Andy?"

Harrison exhaled in a deep sigh.

"Hi Jocelyn," he said in the most unenthusiastic manner ever. "To the first question, nothing. And to the second, somewhere."

"Oh come on, Harry. Why the long face?"

He arched an eyebrow in surprise. "Are you asking me that so I can tell you where Anderson is?"

She gave a firm nod with a big smile. "Uh-huh. Is it working?"

He chuckled. "Okay, you win." Both hands were raised in surrender. "He's working on something in the Science Lab."

"Great!" she pulled herself up, then on second thoughts said, "Would you like to escort me?"

He smiled. "You know, my services are very expensive."

She chuckled. "Are you coming or not?"

"Okay, okay. I'm coming."

Together, they headed for the laboratory. They talked as they walked, and in no time arrived there.

He pushed the door in to reveal The President of Science & Technology, Mcbornie Senior High - Anderson Simpson. He was in a white, knee-length lab coat. And on his face a big sunglass pair hung over his nose, in front of his own glasses. He seemed to be welding something that looked like a head.

"Hi dude-"

"Hey Andy-"

Without turning from what he did, he said, "Hi guys." Then he stopped to look at them. Turning to Harry, he said, "How was lunch with Thomas?"

Harry sighed, then looked away.

Noting that, Anderson returned his attention to what he was working on. "So it didn't work out as you'd planned, huhn? Then it appears I'm never wrong, old friend."

Harry hated it when Anderson was speaking like an old man.

"I guess," he replied with a shrug.

"What's that fandango on the desk?" Jocelyn asked, not comfortable with their present discussion.

"It's uh. . ."

"A what?"

"It's a robot." He turned to look at their faces, they had a dead-expression on.

Harrison began, "I've always known you were smart, dude, but-"

"Creating a robot! That's fricking dope!" Jocelyn completed.

They advanced towards him to look at the contraption.

"O boy!" Harry whistled.

"Why are you creating this, and what kind of robot is this?" Jocelyn asked.

"I'm going to make this a magnificent automation, programmed to do extraordinary things the world has never seen." Andy's words radiated in the air.

"And how do you define 'extraordinary', Mister Simpson?" she asked.

"Special and supernumerary. I hope you know what that means."

Joce slapped her face, while Harry pulled out a minidictionary from his pant; he always had his dictionary with him. He, immediately, looked the word up.

"Supernumerary - it says; 'of an organ or structure: additional to what is normally present.' I don't get it, you're going to make it superintelligent or what?"

"Very correct."

"Then why didn't you say so in simple English!" Joce said, slapping her forehead, this time.

"You're out of your nuts, Andy. That's impossible!" Harry exclaimed.

He gave them his "it's okay" smile, saying, "Not with Anderson Simpson, the true heir to Artificial Intelligence."

Jocelyn looked at him as though he were mad, while Harry just kept staring.

Just then, the electric school-bell rang over their heads. Almost simultaneously, his Smart Watch announced: "You have an incoming voice note from Principal Sanderson."

Their mouths dropped open. Andy ignored this, tapped on the watch, and said: "Let me hear it."

"Okay," replied the robotic, feminine voice.

The voice note began to play, reflecting Principal Sanderson's clear voice:

"Hey, Mister Simpson. I was wondering if you could help me fix my Photocopy Machine after classes. Just drop by my office, if it's a yes."

Anderson sighed, then averted his eyes to the invention.

"I believe it's a no, Sir," he said to himself. Then to the watch: "SW, type this-" the Smart Watch turned on, automatically, then began typing- "I'm very sorry, Sir, but I'm seriously engaged today, after classes. I could make it up to you by tomorrow or before the week runs out, if my schedule is less pressuring."

"Message sent," came the British accent SW.

Jocelyn shook her head in disbelief. Raising an arm, she asked, "Who's finally believed nothing's impossible for Anderson Simpson?"

All three arms were up. Then looking at one another, they burst into teenage shrill.

"But how did you connect the principal's number to your watch?" asked Jocelyn. "Does it use a Sim?"

"It's easy, I added a programmed data of a Google Assistant to my phone's Sim (data), compressed the duo into a unison and, voilà, my SW is formed."

She turned her head to Harry and said, "How does your best friend make seriously complex things sound so easy?"

He shrugged.

"It's a long story."

"Well, I'd like to hear it."

Anderson flagged his hand at them. "Hello! I'm still here, remember?"

They both ignored him, while Harry continued.

"Many years ago, he was bitten by this superintelligent creature from outer space. Then his whole dumb ass brain changed into one as the creature's. Then he began to invent things man has never seen. Behold- captain underpant!"

Jocelyn burst into fits of laughter, holding her stomach hard, and her teeth flashing against Andy and Harry, mouth parted.

Still laughing, she said, "You should be a narrator, you'll have the best selling clown stories."

His smile turned into a frown, leaving both Anderson and her laughing at him.

Harry looked down at his watch and said, "Oh shit guys, we're late for class!"

That said, all sound of laughter ceased. They hurried to get out, while Anderson fumbled with the keys.

"Full speed ahead!" Harry announced.

They all laughed, running ahead of Andy as he locked the door.

"Hey, wait for me!"

* * *

"So before we solve the problem on the E-board," said the Maths teacher, Mrs Mcformula, in the Geometry class, "who can remind me the formula of a cone?"

Anderson and Thomas threw their hands up, in unison.

All eyes fell on Thomas. Anderson was equally surprised, so he lowered his hand so it could be just Thomas' left.

Mrs Mcformula looked down her nose and did a quick assessment on Thomas, split-second.

"Ah-yes, The Bully Beater. Go ahead please."

The class chuckled.

Thomas ignored this, and said: "It is one over three pie r square h (⅓πr²h).

"Marvelous!" exclaimed the teacher, she looked at Anderson from the corner of her eyes, seeing his pleased reaction, felt more at ease.

Harry smiled. So he had a brain after all!

The rest of the class progressed well, with Anderson, Harrison and Thomas as limelights; answering all the difficult questions.

Harrison had made a resolve; he wasn't going to give up on Thomas. This Mr Hardington was going to be his new buddy (not replacing Simpson, of course), come what may.