The C.W.A. of Dr. Z. Smith: Episode #93: Closing In

Last week as you recall our heroes were trapped in the upper level of The Smith Compound, a haphazard place made of Dr. Smith's house, a former neighbors house, the alley between, and whatever interesting bits of metal the Legopolis City Rooftop police could ‘Find’.
They were trapped by the MK4's { Prototype Jeeves’ } that had, through an accidental and nefarious series of events, up-risen from their original purpose of  manufacturing TaVee’s to a new level of marginal-self-awareness.
  Self-Awareness, no matter how marginal is a dangerous thing in a robot, as illustrated by the Hundreds¹ of dollars damage to The Grand City Of Legopolis.
   It didn't help either that the MK4's had taken Dr. Smith's house as their headquarters, because Dr. Smith's house, no matter how smallish it looked on the outside, inside is half-a-dimension away, and huge.
  The door can be disconnected from the actual place Dr. Smith lives, so this makes it ideal for withstanding, say, a siege.

-=fig. 603: dramatically staring at stage left=-

“So…What do we do?” Asked Capt. Brown, unusually worried.
  “I don't know.” Answered Dr. Smith “I have a key, so I could probably get in. The fact is that these robots don't seem the sort to ask or pay anyone to change the locks, but the pressing problem is every weapon I have shoots lead, and these robots are made of copper.  Without the LRD's² working, we have nothing.”
  Irvin, a third-class Rooftop policemen who was listening { as cannot be helped when six people are crammed on a tiny platform } piped up. “If we had access to a large amount of electricity, would that help?”
 “Yes.” Dr. Smith said, “The was the idea behind the LRD's, copper conducts electricity like nothing else. But we don't…do we?”
   Irvin gave a little smile, “As it happens, we do.”

-=fig. 604: volunteered=-

Dr. Smith walked gently.
 Of course they would send him. Who else would be stupid enough to volunteer?
   The MK4 hadn't realised he was there, which was good.
 Dr. Smith swung the shovel, Sparks flew and the MK4's internals were fried.
   There are benefits to always carrying Professional-quality insulated rubber gloves in your jacket pocket.
  The Shovel was hooked to a battery usually used by The LCRP³ for radio equipment, but the MK4's had disabled that somehow.
   Luckily the battery still held a charge.
     Not so luckily, the cord was only so long. There would be no carrying it in.
 Dr. Smith signaled the LCRP. Normally they wouldn't be able to touch the ground, they were prohibited by union law, besides the fact that they held it in such disgust.
   But the ground of the Smith Complex had been, officially⁴, declared a roof. This was because underneath the whole city was a network of tunnels, abandoned sewers, sneaky access tunnels, and stuff like that there.
 The door accepted Dr. Smith's key.
   Dr. Smith tried to ignore the fact that they were walking into an unknown, practically unarmed.
 Well, nearly practically unarmed.

-=fig. 605: basso profondo=-

“GIVE YOURSELVES UP!” Shouted Capt. Brown, Basso Profondo.
   The horde of MK4's did nothing.
     The LCRP, however, unprepared as they were for Capt. Brown's impressive vocal chords, swayed gently, trying to blink away the spots that had just appeared practically everywhere they looked.
  Somewhere, an urn imploded.
   There was a hydraulic hiss as the MK4's stepped forward.
     “So…That did nothing.” Grumbled Capt. Brown.
      “Plan B, then.” Said Dr. Smith.
        “Wait, you have one?” Capt. Brown asked hopefully,
          “…er…um…No.  But give me a minute.”   

¹The Legopolian dollar is ridiculously strong, a comfortable single-family four-bedroom house can be bought for roughly $300.  And that includes furnishings.

 ²LRD=Long Range Defibrillator. Think Raygun.

 ³Legopolis City Rooftop Policemen.

 ⁴There was a Ceremony. Quite the Society affair, oddly, as Society At Large rightly believed the LCRP to be homeless, smelly, and above all, poor. Luckily, Society has yet to give up a chance to drink for free while wearing a tuxedo.