Chip Blip Read online

  MAX BOOTH

  FUTURE SLEUTH

  CHIP BLIP

  CAMERON MACINTOSH

  DAVE ATZE

  Copyright © Cameron Macintosh. Illustrator: Dave Atze

  First published 2020

  Copyright remains the property of the authors and apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of private study, research, criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright Act, no part may be reproduced by any process without written permission.

  All inquiries should be made to the publishers.

  Big Sky Publishing Pty Ltd

  PO Box 303, Newport, NSW 2106, Australia

  Phone: 1300 364 611

  Fax: (61 2) 9918 2396

  Email: [email protected]

  Web: www.bigskypublishing.com.au

  Cover design and Illustrations: Dave Atze

  Typesetting: Think Productions

  Printed in China by Jilin GIGO International

  For Cataloguing-in-Publication entry see National Library of Australia.

  Author: Cameron Macintosh

  Illustrator: Dave Atze

  ISBN: 9781922265685 (paperback).

  For Nicholas, who deserved a chance.

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1 A Ricey Device

  Chapter 2 The Pile of Parts

  Chapter 3 A Helping Hannah

  Chapter 4 The Artificial Labrador

  Chapter 5 The Pet-filled Pyramid

  Chapter 6 Tracker Tricks

  Chapter 7 Success for Sandy

  CHAPTER 1

  A Ricey Device

  ‘Wow,’ I say, munching into a mouthful of rizz-berry risotto, ‘cook, Jessie!’

  Jessie grin.

  ‘Well, it’s no quite as goo as your boodle berry noodle cake, but I did my best’.

  It’s a mega-treat to be sitting in Jessie’s workshop, having a home-cooked meal again. It doesn’t happen very often. Most mealtimes, I eat packets of dried zing-beans and self-cooking curries in the old packing case I live in with my faithful beagle-bot, Oscar. They’re all I can normally afford. Tonight though, my best pal Jessie has made me a delicious dinner, packed full of real rizz-berries, unlike the re-hydrated ones I’ve been eating from packets for the last two years.

  ‘So,’ I ask Jessie, ‘how was your day? Did you find any mysterious old objects for us to investigate?’

  ‘Funny you should ask!’ she says. ‘The rice in the risotto just reminded me of something I found a few hours ago. I’d like you to have a look at it.’

  ‘I hope it’s something edible!’

  ‘Sorry, Max, it’s definitely not dessert.’

  Jessie gets up and disappears into the storage room at the back of the workshop. I hear her clattering around for a minute or two, and then she jogs back to the table with a tiny metal box in her hands.

  ‘I found this in a box of junk marked Space Travel. It must have been a mistake. There’s nothing spacey about it at all. It looks a lot like something we just ate!’

  Jessie hands me the little box and I flip its lid open. Inside, on a little red cushion, is a tiny, shiny device that looks like a very well-polished grain of rice.

  ‘Wow,’ I say. ‘I’ve never seen anything like it.’

  I roll it over with a fingernail and see that its other side seems to be made of some kind of glass. Through the glass I can see something that looks like a tiny microchip from an old computer.

  ‘Any thoughts about what it could be?’ asks Jessie.

  ‘My guess is ... hmmm ... a very well-preserved bunny-bot dropping.’

  ‘Very funny, Max.’

  ‘I think I’d better take a closer look. Is your microscope still on?’

  ‘All yours, buddy.’

  I hurry over to Jessie’s desk and put the shiny grain onto her microscope plate. Angling the lens towards it, I lean over the microscope. I can now see the microchip up close. It’s one of those extremely old ones, with blobs of solder and actual metal inside it. From what I know about microchips, this one must be at least 300 years old.

  As I’m squinting into the microscope I feel something tapping against my leg. I look down and see Oscar peering up at me with sad eyes. ‘Sorry, Oscar,’ I say. ‘Of course you can have a look too.’

  I pick him up and he looks into the microscope with his mouth wide open.

  ‘Does it look familiar?’ I ask him.

  He shakes his head vigorously.

  ‘Do you think you can use the Splinternet to find out what it is?’ I ask him.

  Oscar shrugs and looks up at me with his big electronic eyes. He doesn’t seem very confident that the Splinternet is going to be able to help us.

  ‘I have a feeling it’s too old for the Splinternet too,’ I say, ‘but why don’t we find out?’

  I put Oscar down on the floor and take the strange, ricey device out of the microscope.

  He angles his scanner towards it and makes a soft whirring noise. First, he prints a little plastic photo of it, and then he beams a glowing green square into the air above his back. I know what this means - he’s uploading an image of the item to the Splinternet.

  Jessie and I stare at the green square, barely able to draw breath. For about 30 seconds, we watch a pair of eyes darting from side to side in the square. That’s the Splinternet telling us it’s searching its databases for matching images. After a few seconds, a frowning monkey face appears in the square. The Splinternet seems to be telling us it doesn’t recognise the item.

  ‘You were right, Oscar,’ I say. ‘That thing’s so old the Splinternet doesn’t even know what it is.’

  ‘Well at least we know it was made before the year 2037,’ says Jessie.

  She’s definitely right about that. 2037 was the year the old Internet melted down, due to a massive solar flare. That same year, the Splinternet was set up to replace it. The Splinternet is much faster and more powerful than the Internet ever was - if you ask it the right questions!

  ‘I’m afraid I don’t have time to find out what this thing is,’ says Jessie, ‘so if the two of you aren’t too busy, I think we’ve just found your next assignment!’

  Oscar winks and salutes like a soldier.

  ‘I think that’s a yes from us!’ I laugh.

  ‘Very happy to hear it.’

  ‘Alright, Jessie,’ I reply, sliding the chip into my jacket pocket, ‘it’s already 8 o’clock. Why don’t you go home and get some sleep. We’ll clean up the dinner plates.’

  ‘Thanks, Max,’ she sighs. ‘It’s been a long day. Let’s talk more about this in the morning.’

  ‘We certainly will,’ I say to her. ‘I have a feeling this little grain of glass has a lot to tell us!’

  CHAPTER 2

  The Pile of Parts

  I don’t sleep very well that night. Curled up in the packing case, all I can think of is the strange little grain of electro-rice, and what I can do to find out what it is. That little chip inside must hold some kind of ancient information. Who knows what it might be able to tell us about life in the 21st century?

  Oscar wakes up at 8 am, exactly as I’ve programmed him to do. He rolls over and taps me on the shoulder with one of his paws.

  ‘Thanks, Oscar,’ I groan. ‘Just as I was finally getting some good snoozey-time!’

  He licks my face with his metal tongue, then leaps up and runs out of the packing case.

  The case may not look much, but for now, it’s home. Jessie lets us live here, in the middle of the Bluggsville City Museum storeroom. Jessie’s the storeroom supervisor. She keeps tracks of the new items that arrive, and tries to identify any mysterious ones - sometimes, with our help. Her job is very important, but if the Museum found out we were living in the storeroom she might not have her job for mu
ch longer.

  From the front of the case, Oscar waves one of his paws, beckoning me to follow him. I wipe my eyes, crawl out of the case and follow him to the east end of the storeroom.

  He stops in front of a colossal pile of old computer parts - broken keyboards, printers, circuit boards and monitors. The pile goes most of the way up to the ceiling, a height of about 20 metres. The parts all look extremely ancient - maybe even older!

  Oscar points up towards a shiny white box at the top of the pile, and straightaway, I know what he’s thinking computer that was

  made around the same time as our mysterious little chip might just be able to read its information.

  ‘Good spotting, Oscar,’ I say. ‘That looks like the oldest one of all - from the late 20th century, I’d say. But how do we get it down from there?’

  Oscar waves his front legs out like aeroplane wings and runs around on his hind legs making engine noises.

  ‘That’s very helpful, Oscar,’ I groan. ‘Unfortunately I don’t have a spare jetpack lying around at the moment. I guess I’ll just have to climb up and get it myself.’

  Oscar lifts up both of his paws, as if to say Noooo! And then, without any warning, he runs towards the parts-pile at top speed.

  ‘Oscar!’ I yell. ‘What are you doing?’

  He pays me no attention at all. I start running after him, but he’s a long way ahead. I’m almost close enough to grab his tail when I realise we’re both about to crash into the pile of parts. I pull to a halt, but Oscar doesn’t! He runs at the pile like a charging bull, and butts it hard with his head. The collision sounds like a ten-car air-cab pile-up.

  Oscar bounces backwards and lands on his back, but when I see the smile on his face, I know he’s okay.

  ‘I hope that felt good,’ I scold him. ‘What were you think-’

  At that moment, I realise exactly what he was thinking. Reflecting in his shiny eyes, I see the towering pile of junk, wobbling from side to side like a mountain of jelly. I sweep Oscar up in my arms and run the other way, just as the whole pile crashes to the floor.

  The noise nearly pops my eardrums, but we’ve managed to avoid the avalanche - just! And what’s more, the white computer has landed nearby. It doesn’t seem to have suffered any extra damage.

  At that moment, Jessie appears behind me, startled by all the noise. ‘Are you alright, boys?’ she gulps.

  ‘We’re more than okay,’ I reply. ‘Check this out!’ I run over and pick up the computer. ‘I have a feeling this beautiful old box is going to help us find out what’s on that chip.’

  Jessie raises her eyebrows and looks around at the carpet of mangled computer pieces in her storeroom. ‘Let’s hope so!’

  ‘And, um ... sorry about the mess, Jess!’

  ‘Don't mention it.

  All those parts are due for recycling anyway -some of them are overdue by about 300 years!’

  As Jessie goes back to her workshop to settle down to the day’s tasks, Oscar and I drag the old computer back to our packing case. We sit on either side of it and get to work.

  ‘Tail, please!’ I say to Oscar.

  Oscar turns around and sticks his tail out towards me. I lift up the computer box and angle the tip of his tail into one of the screws holding it together.

  ‘Okay, Oscar – spin-cycle!’

  Oscar spins his tail anti-clockwise at high speed and before I know it, the first screw drops out of the computer. We repeat the process on another ten screws, and eventually the metal casing of the computer comes apart into two pieces. Inside is a prehistoric circuit board, in perfect condition. The components are still shining in their green plastic base.

  I don’t know much about old computers, but there must be something on that circuit board that can read the chip in my pocket. I look for similarsized chips on the board. When I finally come across one, my stomach gurgles in excitement. Using a tiny screwdriver from my toolkit, I prise it out of the circuit board and slot our rice-shaped chip in its place.

  ‘Now,’ I say to Oscar, ‘open up your control panel flap.’

  Oscar looks worried, but he does as I ask. A flap on the side of his body slowly slides upwards.

  ‘I need you to supply a little bit of power – just enough to breathe some life into this ancient computer,’ I say.

  Oscar nods and shuffles closer to me. Luckily, he’s been on his charger all night so his battery is still at 98 per cent. I grab an old wire from the floor nearby, insert one end into Oscar’s power output and press the other end against one of the wires in the old computer’s circuit board. I attach it with a bit of sticky tape, and we’re ready to go.

  Just as I’m about to give Oscar the green light to shoot some electricity in, his ears suddenly prick up. His eyes triple in size as something outside the packing case grabs his attention.

  ‘Oh no,’ I groan. ‘Not another robo-rat!’

  I look out into the storeroom and see a big, rusty robo-rat preening its metal paws just a few metres away.

  Oscar gets so excited that a sudden jolt of energy bursts through the wire into the old computer. There’s a loud cracking sound as a puff of smoke wafts out from the circuit board. And then Oscar disappears, scurrying across the floor in search of the electronic rodent.

  ‘Bad dog, Oscar,’ I yell. ‘Look what you’ve done!’

  The circuit board is so hot I can’t touch it, but using a screwdriver I manage to pop our ricey chip out of its place. It’s the only thing in there that seems unharmed – the rest of the circuit board is either melted or burnt.

  ‘Great,’ I say to myself. ‘What do we do now?’

  I crawl out of the packing case and take the old computer parts back to where we found them. I’m about to throw them back into the pile of junk when I realise the computer’s screen is glowing, just faintly. That mega-charge of Oscar-power must have brought it back to life! There’s an interesting picture on the screen. To my eyes it looks like a logo. I look at it closely and realise it’s an old Bluggsville City logo, from back in the 21st century. I’ve seen it before on all sorts of ancient artefacts.

  ‘Oscar,’ I yell. ‘Back here, please!’

  A moment later Oscar reappears, his snout covered in cobwebs.

  ‘No luck with the robo-rat?’ I ask with a wink.

  He shakes his head sadly, and then sneezes so hard he tumbles over.

  ‘Well I think you deserve that. You can’t just go running off to chase robo-rodents while we’re in the middle of important work.’

  Oscar’s tail drops between his legs.

  ‘It’s okay, pup. There’s no time for moping. I need you to take a photo of this screen.’

  Now that he has an important task to do, Oscar suddenly looks a lot happier. He pops his camera out of his back and moves it right up to the screen. A moment later, a plastic print slides out of his side. Seconds later, I hear a fizz and a pop, and the image on the screen fades away to nothing.

  I grab Oscar’s print off the floor and look at it closely. Beneath the logo I can see a tiny barcode. I know this logo was used until the year 2025 ... which means that the rice-shaped chip must be nearly 400 years old. But what use could it possibly have served? And what information was stored on it?

  We run into Jessie’s workshop and show her the printout. She rubs her chin and stays silent for a long time. ‘Interesting,’ she says, finally. ‘I still have no idea what that chip really is, but with that barcode I have a feeling you’ll be able to find out.’

  ‘But how?’

  ‘If you go down to the Bluggsville Records Office they should be able to scan it for you. This is amazing progress. Well done, Max and Oscar!’

  ‘Our pleasure,’ I say to Jessie. ‘We’ll go down right away!’

  CHAPTER 3

  A Helping Hannah

  I change out of my pyjamas and into my regular clothes — which don’t really look much different from my pyjamas!

  ‘Come on, Oscar,’ I yell. ‘We’ve got work to do!’


  Oscar follows me over to the packing case we climb up to reach our secret exit from the storeroom - a metal air-vent pipe that takes us up to a dark laneway at street level. We always have to sneak out quietly. If the Bluggsville Museum staff knew Jessie was letting us live here, she’d be in big trouble. We’d be back on the streets again too.

  We climb into the pipe and haul ourselves up the rope that takes us to the vent cover. At the top of the rope I push the cover open and we squeeze ourselves through, tumbling onto the cold concrete of the laneway. As soon as we’re up on our feet, we run all the way to the Skyburb Down-station. We only have to wait two minutes before the Skyburb we live on – Skyburb 6 – stops above the docking station below and sends down a zoom tube to connect us to the ground. , We climb into the first available aircell and before we know it we’re zipping through the air, all the way down to ground level.

  We step out of our aircell and leap over the exit gates before any of the staff have time to realise we don’t have a ticket. As soon as we’re safely around the next street corner I ask Oscar to direct us to the Bluggsville Records Office. He flashes his back panel open and projects a map up into the air. Luckily, the Records Office only seems to be a few minutes’ walk from here.

  We cross the road into Joob Street before turning left into Ninjah Way. Then, we cross the road once more and turn right onto Puddle Parade.

  There it is - a big pink building that looks like a concrete shoebox. There’s a small line of tiny square windows just below the roof. It’s obviously been designed to keep the light out and the records in! We run straight for the door and press the buzzer.

  A black glass camera drops down above my head. From a speaker above the door, a voice says, ‘Can I help you ... Sir?’