Nick and Tesla's Robot Army Rampage: A Mystery with Hoverbots, Bristle Bots, and Other Robots You Can Build Yourself - Hardcover

Buch 2 von 6: Nick and Tesla

Pflugfelder, Bob; Hockensmith, Steve

 
9781594746499: Nick and Tesla's Robot Army Rampage: A Mystery with Hoverbots, Bristle Bots, and Other Robots You Can Build Yourself
Hardcover
ISBN 10: 1594746494 ISBN 13: 9781594746499
Verlag: Quirk Books, 2014

Inhaltsangabe

Join twins Nick and Tesla as they build homemade robots and race to solve a mystery in this zany, action-packed middle grade adventure sequel by “Science Bob” Pflugfelder.

It’s up to Nick and Tesla to save the day–again! When a rash of robberies hits the town of Half Moon Bay, the two young sleuths head straight to their Uncle Newt’s science lab. They’ll have to build their very own battlebots, robo-bugs, and hoverbots to outsmart a criminal mastermind. Can Nick and Tesla crack the case before it's too late? 

This second book in the popular Nick and Tesla series features laugh-out-loud jokes, fun illustrations, and five DIY science projects with step-by-step instructions for readers to try at home.

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

“Science Bob” Pflugfelder is a science teacher, author, maker, and presenter that knows how to share the world of science like never before. He is a regular guest on Jimmy Kimmel Live!, Live With Kelly and Ryan, The Dr. Oz Show, and Nickelodeon’s Nicky, Ricky, Dicky and Dawn. His television appearances also include The Today Show, Hack My Life, Good Morning America, Home & Family and others.

Steve Hockensmith is both a New York Times bestselling author (for Pride and Prejudice and Zombies: Dawn of the Dreadfuls) and a Best First Novel Edgar Award nominee (for his mystery Holmes on the Range). He has two young children and lives near San Francisco.

Scott Garrett is a UK-based freelance illustrator whose clients have included Vodafone, Nestle, VW, GQ, The Guardian, Los Angeles Times, Boston Globe, Business Week, Klutz Books, Faber & Faber and Random House. He lives by the sea in Hastings, East Sussex, with his family.

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Chapter 1
Nick was in the lab in the basement making a volcano with vinegar and dish-washing liquid.
     Tesla was in the lab in the basement making a rocket with vinegar and baking soda.
     Uncle Newt was in the lab in the basement making a compost-fueled vacuum cleaner out of a leaf blower and a bag of putrid bananas.
     It was the vacuum cleaner that exploded.
     Fortunately, the Banana Vac 8000 began sizzling and melting before exploding, giving Uncle Newt time to groan, “Aww, man. Not again.”
     Nick and Tesla knew what that meant. They put down their beakers, test tubes, and tongs and hurried toward the rickety stairs. They had to do a lot of zigzagging, as the dimly lit basement was packed with old computers and grimy tools and abandoned inventions (a rocket-powered skateboard here, a gumball machine stocked with goldfish there) and, along the walls, mysterious contraptions that hummed and throbbed and occasionally went ping. Some of the machines were scorched. All were covered with soot.
     “Come on, Uncle Newt!” Nick said as he and his sister began bounding up the steps.
     Uncle Newt was the kind of man who needed to be reminded that it’s a good idea to leave when a vacuum cleaner is about to explode.
     “I just don’t understand,” he said as he reluctantly rose from his cluttered worktable and followed his niece and nephew. “I had the oxygen/methane mix perfect this time.”
     “That’s what you said last time,” Tesla pointed out.
     “I know! It was perfect then, too.”
     Nick and Tesla scrambled up to the landing at the top of the stairs and turned to find their uncle plodding along behind them.
     “Uhh, Uncle Newt?” said Nick. “Maybe you want to move a little faster?”
     Uncle Newt swiped a hand at him dismissively. “Oh, I’ve still got at least five more seconds to get away. Maybe even six. Well, four now.”
     The kids retreated into the kitchen, and slowly, serenely, he followed them.
     “Two,” he said. “One.”
     Nick, Tesla, and Uncle Newt stood for a moment, staring at each other. Then there was a whomp that shook the whole house.
     “See?” Uncle Newt said. “There was plenty of time.”
     Smoke rose from the basement. It smelled like a hundred burned banana cream pies sitting in the sun at the county dump.
     “Eewww,” said Uncle Newt, grimacing and pinching his nose. “That’s even worse than usual. Come on.”
      He led the kids out to the backyard, leaving the door open so the smoke could swirl out instead of filling the house. Uncle Newt’s hairless cat, Eureka, trotted after them, curled up on the porch, and began licking ash off his wrinkled, bald butt.
     It was a bright, warm summer day, and one of Uncle Newt’s neighbors—a genial old man Uncle Newt always called Mr. Blackwell, even though his name was Jones—was mowing his lawn nearby.
     Mr. Jones stopped his mower and pointed his inch-thick glasses at Uncle Newt and Nick and Tesla.
     “Need me to call the fire department again?” he said.
     “No thanks, Mr. Blackwell,” Uncle Newt told him. “It’s just a methane-rich banana mash reacting to oxygen and putting out a lot of carbon dioxide and water vapor.”
     “Oh,” Mr. Jones said, nodding and smiling and clearly not understanding a word. “All right, then.”
     “Don’t worry about the smoke,” Uncle Newt went on. “That’ll probably stop in an hour or so.”
     “An hour or so?” someone said.
     Uncle Newt and the kids turned around to find another neighbor, Julie Casserly, glaring at them. She was crouched by the side of her house, planting a new bed of begonias to replace the one that Uncle Newt’s (supposedly) self-steering lawn mower had chewed through two weeks earlier.
     Julie coughed melodramatically, then jabbed a trowel in the direction of the foul-smelling smoke billowing out of Uncle Newt’s back door.
     “You expect me to put up with that for an hour?”
     “Of course not, Julie,” Uncle Newt said. “You could always go inside.”
     Julie shot to her feet and did just that. But there was something about the way she snorted and scowled before she stomped off that made it clear she wasn’t retreating from just the smoke.
     “Who do you think she’s gonna call?” Tesla said. “The fire department or the police?”
     “Both,” said Nick. “And probably the Pentagon and the White House, too.”
     Mr. Jones started his mower again.
     “I could modify that so it’d mow the lawn for you, Mr. Blackwell!” Uncle Newt bellowed at him.
     Mr. Jones just waved and went back to cutting grass. He obviously knew better than to let Uncle Newt anywhere near his lawn-care equipment.
     “Oh well,” Uncle Newt said. “Time for Italian, I guess.”
     “What?” Nick and Tesla exclaimed.
     Uncle Newt sucked a lungful of smoky air in through his nostrils.
     “I don’t know about you,” he said, “but I’ve got a sudden craving for Ranalli’s chicken vesuvio.”
     Nick and Tesla blinked at him. Neither had any idea what chicken vesuvio was, but they did know this: Ranalli’s Italian Kitchen had great pizza.
     “Let’s go,” Tesla said.
     It was 10 o’clock on a Sunday morning—not the time most people chose to go out for Italian food. But if there was one thing Nick and Tesla had learned since coming to live with their uncle two weeks before, it was that he wasn’t most people.
     “Great!” Uncle Newt said. He pulled the lapel of his lab coat over his mouth like a mask. “You two pour a gallon of grease into the car. I’ll go get the electro bib. I’ve been meaning to try it out in a restaurant.”
     He walked toward the smoke still roiling out the back door.
     Tesla grabbed his right arm. Nick grabbed the left.
     “Maybe you shouldn’t go back in there till you can see what you’re doing,” said Tesla.
     “And, you know . . . breathe?” said Nick.
     Uncle Newt mulled it over while Nick and Tesla watched him anxiously. Not only were they worried about him asphyxiating in the house, they didn’t want him bringing his electro bib—which was supposed to teach kids to eat neatly by giving off a shock
every time a crumb touched it—to the...

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Verlag
Quirk Books
Erscheinungsdatum
2014
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
1594746494
ISBN 13 
9781594746499
Einband
Gebundene Ausgabe
Anzahl der Seiten
224
Kontakt zum Hersteller
Nicht verfügbar
Verantwortliche Person
Nicht verfügbar

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