Kevan realized it was tough to get into Bronx Science. 30,000 New York students driven to the breaking point by Tiger mom’s and desperate dads all fighting for 750 seats in the freshman class. When he got in he had a moment to breathe a sigh of relief. Then he realized getting in was the easy part. You were part of something now–a legacy that demanded that you add to it in a meaningful way. That was how he found himself in a closet tucked off from the gym with three other kids and a bulky robot that looked like a beetle.
“It has to work.” Siddiq said, but even as a freshman he was the assistant editor of Vox Discipulorum, the school’s World Language Magazine. He had the inside track to Editor in Chief. It didn’t have to work for him to get noticed.
Michela said as much. She was a classic ranter. She had a knack for finding everything wrong, and very little right. Still, it was a talent that was extremely useful in debugging processes, which is what they were in the middle of right now.
“It’s going to work.” Kevan said.
The fourth person in their quartet hardly ever talked. Faraji was quiet and pensive. He’d been the one to come up with the beetle design. He’d been the lead programmer while Kevan’s expertise with electronics and advanced plastics lent itself more towards construction. Faraji was typing on his laptop. A thin pale wire ran from the device into the back of the robot. As Faraji typed, the robot whirred and clicked, running through diagnostic checks. It was a six legged model. Each leg articulated separately on gyros that Kevan designed. The problem was keeping them in sequence so that it moved smoothly and not in a sideways gait like it had this morning during testing.
Michela discovered it first. She said, “Prospero is limping.”
It wasn’t a construction issue–Kean had made sure of that. It was something in the code that made the robot move that way.
“I got it.” Faraji said.
The others took a collective breath without realizing. Outside in the crowded gym beyond other teams were gathered with their science projects hoping to make their first mark on the school. Siddiq slowly turned the knob, opening the door to let the noise and commotion of the outside in.
He said, “Okay. Let’s show them what we can do.”