The Case of the Battling Bots Read online

  BY

  ILLUSTRATED BY

  O R C A B O O K P U B L I S H E R S

  Text copyright © 2016 Liam O’Donnell

  Illustrations copyright © 2016 Mike Deas

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

  O’Donnell, Liam, 1970–, author

  The case of the battling bots / Liam O’Donnell; illustrated by Mike Deas.

  (Tank & Fizz)

  Issued in print and electronic formats.

  ISBN 978-1-4598-0813-3 (paperback).—ISBN 978-1-4598-0814-0 (pdf).—

  ISBN 978-1-4598-0815-7 (epub)

  1. Graphic novels. I. Deas, Mike, 1982-, illustrator II. Title.

  III. Title: Tank and Fizz.

  PS8579.D646C38 2016 jC813'.6 C2015-904488-X

  C2015-904489-8

  First published in the United States, 2016

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2015946327

  Summary: In this illustrated middle-grade novel and second book in the Tank and Fizz series, a goblin detective and a technology-tinkering troll must dodge battle bots and spellbooks to prevent the return of an ancient demon.

  Orca Book Publishers is dedicated to preserving the environment and has printed this book on Forest Stewardship Council® certified paper.

  Orca Book Publishers gratefully acknowledges the support for its publishing programs provided by the following agencies: the Government of Canada through the Canada Book Fund and the Canada Council for the Arts, and the Province of British Columbia through the BC Arts Council and the Book Publishing Tax Credit.

  Design by Jenn Playford

  Illustrations and cover image by Mike Deas

  ORCA BOOK PUBLISHERS

  www.orcabook.com

  Printed and bound in Canada.

  19 18 17 16 • 4 3 2 1

  To goblin detectives and

  troll tinkerers everywhere.

  — Liam O’Donnell

  To Justin and Kaylee

  — Mike Deas

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE: BOT ATTACK!

  CHAPTER TWO: CODE-SNIFFING

  CHAPTER THREE: PRINCIPALS & PRESS CONFERENCES

  CHAPTER FOUR: SKATEBOARDS & STAKEOUTS

  CHAPTER FIVE: THE CODEX CRASHER

  CHAPTER SIX: SMOOTHIE TALKING

  CHAPTER SEVEN: SLIPPERY KOBOLDS

  CHAPTER EIGHT: DANGEROUS BOOKS

  CHAPTER NINE: ROOFTOP BOT RUN

  CHAPTER TEN: CRASHING THE PARTY

  CHAPTER ELEVEN: MONSTER MANSION

  CHAPTER TWELVE: CODEX CLUES

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN: BLAST FROM THE PAST

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN: THE BATTLE BEGINS

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN: PLAYING NICE WITH DEMONS

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN: JEWEL FOOL

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: MEGA BOT MASH-UP

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: RIZZO TALKS TRUTH

  The robot was going to crush me.

  I froze like a midwinter booger on a bike rack. The battle bot stomped closer with its massive feet. The ground shook with every step. It reached out with its long arms. Its sharp claws were perfect for crushing other bots. And smushing goblin detectives like me.

  The name is Marlow. Fizz Marlow. Fourth-grade goblin, part-time detective and reluctant battle-bot bait.

  It wasn’t my idea to step into the arena with the Rawlins Reaper, the toughest battle bot at Gravelmuck Elementary.

  Miss Blinx dropped me on my tail. Tank Wrenchlin, my best friend and detective partner, lifted me to my feet.

  “That was close,” she said. “Rizzo’s battle bot could have smushed you!”

  “You said I needed to get close!” I said.

  “There’s close and then there’s too close, Fizz.”

  “Well, I’m not getting that close to Rizzo’s battle bot ever again.” I handed her the small metal ball she had given me only a few minutes ago. “You can take your code smeller back.”

  “It’s a code sniffer, Fizz.” Tank was the best troll tinkerer this side of the Dark Depths. Inside the ball were gears, circuits and a bunch of other stuff I didn’t understand. But Tank did, and that was all that mattered. She inspected the ball for damage. “And I didn’t tell you to nearly get stuck to the battle bot’s foot. We’re trying to solve a case, not turn you into goblin pancakes.”

  Solving a case was the reason I’d gotten into that battle in the first place. No one ever said being a detective would be easy. I just wished they would remind me to wear a helmet once in a while.

  The whole mess had started two days earlier, when the Troll Patrol cornered us on our way home from school. Thankfully, they didn’t patrol for unfinished homework, or I would have been rounded up a lot earlier. The three grade-eight trolls were Gravelmuck Elementary’s champion battle-bot team. They were also our school’s best chance at winning this year’s Battle Bot Cup. That is, if everyone played fairly.

  “Rizzo Rawlins is a cheat,” said the tallest of the three trolls. His name was Daztan. He was the Troll Patrol captain.

  “And the Tuesday lunch special is a health hazard,” I said. “Tell us something we don’t know, Daztan.”

  I’m normally not so snarky to older monsters. But I had a serious video-game session and a fresh batch of choco-slug cookies waiting for me at home. It’s never a good idea to get between me and my video games.

  “Rizzo Rawlins has put together his own battle-bot team to compete in the school finals,” said Ryla, the smallest of the three trolls. She was the coder of the group. It was her computer code that made the Troll Patrol’s battle bots the best in the school.

  “But Rizzo is only in fourth grade,” Tank said. “How can he compete with you older monsters?”

  “Rizzo gets whatever Rizzo wants,” said Zarkof. He was smaller than Daztan but larger than Ryla, and had bright-orange hair spiked up to look like he’d been electrocuted. “Rizzo convinced Principal Weaver to let him compete, and then he hired some of the other kids in our class to build him a battle bot.”

  “Normally, we would be able to defeat any bot they could scrape together,” Daztan said.

  “We’ve watched his bot in battle,” Zarkof said. “We think he is cheating.”

  “Word on the playground is that you two are detectives,” said Zarkof.

  “Best in the school,” Tank said with a smile.

  “Good,” Daztan said. “We want to hire you.”

  Thoughts of cookies and video games vanished from my detective brain. I was always interested in a new case. But still, I had my doubts.

  “Everyone knows Rizzo Rawlins is a cheat,” I said. “How can we prove he’s cheating in the battle-bot competition?”

  The flat piece of vizpaper in Zarkof ’s large hands sparked to life. The paper’s surface glowed softly with the words Rockfall Battle Bot Association: Rules and Regulations. Zarkof thumbed through the manual. He c
leared his throat before speaking.

  “It states clearly in Section 12, Subsection D, that all essential mainframe apparatuses and sub-linear underlying frameworks must be—”

  “Um, run that one by me again,” I said.

  “Certainly.” Zarkof smiled. “It states clearly in Section 12—”

  Daztan stepped in to translate. “What he means is, we have to build our battle bots using parts we make ourselves.”

  “And run the bots using computer code that we write ourselves,” Ryla added. “That way, participants can’t just buy the best equipment or hire some professional computer coder to make their battle bot.”

  “And that’s what you think Rizzo has done?”

  Daztan nodded. “His bot moves too fast. It’s too smart to have been created by a bunch of monsters from elementary school. We think he got his battle-bot parts and code from a professional bot maker. And we want you to prove it.”

  “It is quite important that the truth be known,” Zarkof said. “The winner of our school battle-bot tournament will represent Gravelmuck in the Slick City Battle Bot Cup next week.”

  “And you think Rizzo will win?” Tank asked.

  “If he does win, he won’t deserve it,” Ryla said.

  “We just want things to be fair,” Daztan said. “All the other monsters have been working on their battle bots for a long time. It’s not right for Rizzo to use his money to get an advantage over us.”

  “If you can prove he bought his computer parts, Principal Weaver will have to remove him from the tournament.”

  “A chance to prove Rizzo Rawlins is a cheat?” I looked to my detective partner. Tank’s ears stood at attention like a pair of hungry flame hounds. She was in.

  Two days later, Tank’s ears had started to sag.

  Rizzo and his crew weren’t letting anyone near their battle bot. The kobold wouldn’t talk to me or Tank. Even Rizzo’s goons, the Gutro twins, were keeping tight-lipped about what made the Rawlins Reaper work.

  When the Gravelmuck battle-bot finals rolled around, it was a match between Rizzo’s Reaper and the Troll Patrol Thrasher.

  After chasing that kobold for two days, we had nothing. Now the whole school had gathered in the schoolyard to see the battle. Rizzo’s dad, Ratso Rawlins, had even rented a special battle-bot arena with seats for the fans.

  I had dusted myself off from the close encounter with Rizzo’s battle bot and was ready to never get in the ring again. Tank had other ideas.

  “Luckily, you didn’t damage the code sniffer when you nearly got stomped. Let’s keep it that way.” Tank handed me the small copper ball again. “I was up all last night building this thing. It will detect all the computer code running around here.”

  A tiny seam ran around the circumference of the metal. The seam was split on one side by a small screen. A blue light pulsed on the screen like a heartbeat.

  “Every coder signs his computer code. If the sniffer detects code that is not signed by any members of Rizzo’s team, it will flash red.”

  “And that will prove Rizzo is using code he didn’t write.”

  “Exactly,” Tank said. “And that should be enough to prove he’s cheating.”

  A shadow fell across the Troll Patrol work area. We all looked up to see a giant spider hanging over us from a long thread of web silk. Principal Weaver.

  “Attention! Attention! Your attention, please!” The spider barked through her megaphone as if we were on the other side of Slick City and not just a tail’s length away. “I wish the Troll Patrol the best of luck. You’ll need it against Rizzo Rawlins and his brilliant battle bot!”

  Principal Weaver swung across the arena to sit near Rizzo’s team before the trolls could say anything.

  “No prizes for guessing who she wants to win,” Ryla muttered.

  “Don’t sweat it,” I said. “Principal Weaver just wants to keep Rizzo happy so his dad will keep giving the school money.”

  Miss Blinx buzzed to the center of the battle-bot field.

  “All right, monsters!” she shouted. She might be the size of an ogre’s finger, but that blaze fairy didn’t need a megaphone to be heard. “Let’s get ready to rumble!”

  The battle bots lumbered into the arena. The battle began with a loud cheer from the monsters in the bleachers.

  I slipped into the crowd and away from the bot action. I was sad to be missing the battle, but I had a cheating kobold to catch.

  I pushed through a group of latecomers hurrying to their seats. All the classes had been let out for the afternoon to see the final. It looked like every parent in the neighborhood had taken the day off work too.

  Tank’s code sniffer felt cool and solid in my hand. Its light wasn’t on. I was tempted to shake the thing to see if it was actually working. I should know better. When my pal Tank builds something, it works. Every time. Well, almost every time. There was that incident with the sizzlematic portable grubnug-fudge maker. It made grubnug fudge, all right. Enough to fill my room all the way up to my window. It took me a week to clean up, and the whole apartment smelled of fudge for a month. Mom banned Tank from bringing her inventions over to our place. It was a delicious cleanup though.

  I made my way to Rizzo’s tech pit. His battle-bot crew had their backs to me. They were too busy watching the fight to see me coming. Rizzo stood on the edge of the arena with the bot controller in his paws. He yelped and barked as he controlled the battle bot in the middle of the arena.

  I moved past a crate spilling over with wires and electronics to get a closer look at the action.

  The Rawlins Reaper moved faster than a first-grader riding a sugar rush. It zipped around the Troll Patrol Thrasher, scoring direct hits almost every time. The Thrasher didn’t know where to swing its mighty claws. On the far side of the ring, Ryla struggled at the controls of the Thrasher. Rizzo had come out swinging, and he wasn’t going to stop.

  I checked Tank’s code sniffer. It was in pulse overload, flashing red like it was going to explode.

  Julius and Seymor Gutro were Rizzo’s go-to goons. They were on me like stink on a sneaker.

  “Get back here, Fizzle!” Seymor shouted.

  “We just want to talk,” added his brother. Yeah right. Those two talked with their fists. I raced out of the tech pit. Julius and Seymor were one ogre-sized step behind me.

  Tank’s copper ball glowed in my hands. Now that it was farther away from Rizzo and the illegal code running his battle bot, it had stopped flashing red. That wasn’t stopping his goons from chasing me.

  I scrambled up to the top of the bleachers. The seats were packed with cheering battle-bot fans. I slipped behind the last row of seats. No one took notice of me. They were all too busy watching the action down below.

  The Gutro brothers dangled me over the back of the bleachers like a mudcrawler on a hook. It was a long way down. Far enough to squish a little goblin like me.

  Julius held out a meaty paw.

  “Give us the glowing ball, Fizzle.”

  Seymor sneered. “Or we’ll come looking for it, and we can’t guarantee no bruises.”

 
A loud crunch echoed up from the middle of the arena. A cheer erupted from the crowd. Somebody’s robot had just gotten smacked. A sinking feeling in my gut told me it wasn’t the Reaper.

  I had a choice—get dropped like a goblin water balloon or roughed up by the school bullies. It wasn’t much of a choice. And it was all over a flashing little ball that had already told me what I needed to know. Rizzo was running illegal code. He was cheating.

  If the goons really wanted Tank’s ball, they could have it. I held out the code sniffer.

  “Here you are, fellas.”

  The Gutro brothers grinned.

  “Now he knows who’s running the show,” said Julius.

  “We just had to shake him up a bit,” Seymor said.

  All they had to do was take the ball from me. Simple, right? But there’s nothing these two can’t mess up.

  Seymor decided to prove his point. He gave me a shake I wasn’t expecting.

  The copper ball slipped from my fingers.

  All three of us watched the code sniffer drop to the crowd below. It landed on the back of a very large spider scuttling through the crowd. A spider we all knew.

  “Principal Weaver!” Julius said.

  Seymor’s glare burned into me. “See what you’ve done, goblin! Now we’ll never get that ball.”

  “You’re the one that shook me!” I said. “And you’re the one dangling me over the edge of the bleachers!”

  Top tip—never remind an ogre he’s dangling you over the back of the bleachers.

  Seymor grinned. “How about we send you down there to get that ball back for us?”

  “Yeah, we can get you down there real quick,” Julius said. He made a noise that was halfway between a giggle and a snort.