"Beep beep! Lunch time!"

"I need oil. Beep."

Brain looked at us curiously.

"Did you know Luke Skywalker's got a machine for a hand?"

"Yes, I knew that." said Brain.

"Pretty cool!"

"Awesome !"

"What are you guys getting at?"

"Nothing."

We stood about, trying to look innocent as we ate.

"Ever seen Terminator?" I asked.

"Yes," said Brain, "Three times."

"Do you reckon a robot could do all those things?"

"Maybe."

We knew he was hiding something. He had that look on his face. But he wouldn't say any more so we dropped the subject, in case he figured out why we were all suddenly interested in robots and things. And he never said a word about them after that.

So that was how it was. We bunked school and mucked around, and Brain did all his work and got top marks all the time. Week after week. And the secret, whatever it was, stayed a secret.

Until one day when Brain was sick. We knew he was down with something because the teacher told us. (One of those rare moments when we were actually listening.)

"He's got chicken pox," she said.

"What's that?" we said.

"Buck buck buck," we said, pretending to be chickens.

"Chicken pox" said the teacher, reading from a sheet of paper pinned to the wall, "Is caused by the herpes zoster virus. It is transmitted by the respiratory system and carried by the bloodstream to all parts of the body. The symptoms are seen about two weeks after exposure: loss of appetite, fever, and headache. Within two days a rash appears, then itching blisters form