Numbed! by David Lubar Page B

back away from switches and start with the simplest system of all.” He made a bunch of short slashes on the page.
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    â€œThere you have fifteen,” he said. “I’d need more paper and a lot more time to write down ten thousand this way.”
    â€œThat’s not fifteen,” Benedict said. “That’s just silly.”
    â€œNo, that’s just unary—counting by ones,” Dr. Thagoras said. “It’s not very useful, except for counting small quantities of things. But Cypher uses binary. So do computers and video games. It’s much more useful—especially if you have billions of switches. Wait—I have a device that will make everything a lot clearer. It’s for one of the new exhibits. I’ll go get it.”
    He hit a switch on the front of the robot. The lights on its body went dark, and the head slumped forward. Dr. Thagoras hopped off his stool and headed out the door. “I’ll be right back. Don’t touch anything.”
    No! I spun toward Benedict, but it was too late. Those words— don’t touch anything —had already set him into action.
    â€œI think on is more fun than off . Who wants to be a zero when you can be numero uno ?” He flipped a switch on the robot’s chest. The lights flashed to life, and the head tilted back up.
    â€œHe told us not to touch it,” I said.
    â€œNah, he told you. Not me. I’m really good with electronics.” Benedict stabbed at several more buttons. “I wonder what else it can do.”
    I tried to distract him before he broke something. “Hey—you were wrong. This place isn’t boring.”
    â€œMost of it is still boring. Come on—a Chamber of Fractions? Give me a break.” He grabbed a knob on the robot’s neck and twisted it. “I hate math.”
    The robot turned its head toward us. “I love numbers.” Its voice reminded me of the GPS Mom and Dad use in the car. Dad talks back to it—especially when he thinks it gave him the wrong directions. But when he ignores the GPS and drives the way he thinks is right, we always get lost.
    The robot kept talking. “Numbers are wonderful. I am numbers. Numbers are my world. I live in a digital domain. I am a binary being. One, two, four, eight, sixteen.”
    â€œIt loves words way too much,” Benedict muttered to me. Then he turned toward the robot and said, “You can’t love numbers. And you sure can’t love math.” He jabbed it in the chest, hitting another button.
    â€œI love numbers. I love numbers. I love numbers.” The robot repeated the words faster and faster. It started to sound like “Olive numbers” and then “lumbers,” and after that, it didn’t sound much like any words at all. It sounded like a car trying to start on a very cold morning. Smoke drifted from the robot’s ears. It smelled like the time I’d left my plastic ruler too close to the toaster.
    â€œOh dear!” Dr. Thagoras rushed back in and switched off the robot. “You seemed to have found a flaw in its programming. I think I’d better grab the fire extinguisher. Hold this. And don’t touch anything.” He shoved a small box with three on-off switches and three lights into my hands and raced back out.
    â€œDon’t leave!” I shouted. “And stop saying that!”
    As soon as Dr. Thagoras vanished down the hall, Benedict smirked and said, “I’ve got a few more things to tell this robot.” He reached for the button.
    â€œNo!”
    I tried to grab his arm, but I wasn’t fast enough.
    â€œNumbers are stupid!” Benedict shouted at the robot. “Even robots are boring when all they talk about is numbers.”
    I expected another rapid stream of words from the robot or maybe a screech like Dad’s desktop computer at work made when the fan broke. Instead, the robot spoke in a low voice. It