Chapter Text
“You've been struggling with that for a while,” Alice said in her mechanical-sounding voice, nudging Max’s leg. The boy had been sitting on one of the empty crates at the back of the stall, trying to mend a hole in his hat.
“You don’t say... Just wait a little longer, and if a customer comes by, let me know.”
The robot let out a disappointed hum and drove off. Max saw her stop at the counter, which was too high for her, and start sorting the screws and nuts in his toolbox. Seeing that she would no longer bother him, he went back to repairing his hat.
He was one of the few mechanics with a stall at the weekly market in the Cinderellasburg’s capital. Without a sign, his booth hinted at its trade only by the shelves of various mechanical parts that crowded the walls. The owners of neighboring businesses sometimes complained about the smell of cut metal or grease, but he didn't worry about it, knowing full well that if any of them needed something repaired, they would come to him.
Besides being quite good at fixing anything mechanical, his true passion was building his own devices. He was the one who built Alice and programmed her chip. Sometimes he did that on request, too, but it was definitely too expensive to base his work solely on that.
With no one to rely on but his father, who was consumed by madness, he tried to make a living on his own. He ignored the sympathetic glances of people who knew his situation and just rolled his eyes every time someone said they admired his mature behavior. As if he had any other choice.
He hissed quietly through his teeth when he accidentally pricked his finger with the needle. He quickly pulled his hand away so as not to stain the fabric with blood and looked around for a bandage.
“The drawer on your right, second from the top,” Alice replied almost immediately. She looked at him with her head tilted, as if processing his reaction.
“Thanks,” he said, pulling the first-aid kit out of the indicated spot. “Since you’re doing so well, you might also tell me where I can find a thimble.”
“What would you do without me?” She sighed and Max heard the distinctive sound of her slippers sliding across the booth floor.
“Well, well. I don’t remember the program giving you the ability to be sarcastic.”
The boy had already bandaged his finger and was looking down as Alice rummaged through one of the boxes. Finally, she pulled a thimble out of it.
“I just have someone to learn from,” she said, handing it to him. “You could’ve asked for it right away, but as always, you were in too much of a hurry.”
Well, it wasn’t every day that he accidentally burned a hole in his hat while welding, but instead of arguing with her, Max smiled as he took the thimble and gave her a gentle pat on the head.
“I know, I know. I appreciate your help.”
The robot let out a satisfied sound reminiscent of the victory chime in an arcade game. Max laughed, and just as he was about to turn away and go back to his mending, he heard a thud on the countertop. Both he and Alice looked at the figure standing in front of the stall.
It was a girl, probably about his age. She was wearing gray sweatpants and a hoodie with a wide hood. She, too, looked surprised by the loud bang.
“Sorry. I underestimated the weight,” she said, slightly embarrassed, to a small robot standing in front of her.
“No problem, I’m coming,” Max replied, stepping out from the back of the booth and leaning over the counter. The robot looked quite old, but its casing was well-maintained and in good condition. “What’s wrong wi—”
He raised his head to ask the question, but didn’t finish it. Looking into the girl’s dark brown eyes, he thought he recognized them from somewhere, and the sight of her light blue curls tied back made him realize who she was. Princess Chloe Charming.
For a moment, he said nothing, staring at her awkwardly in surprise. However, when he felt Alice’s caterpillar tracks roll over his foot, he snapped out of it and bowed as much as he could, accidentally bumping into the chair standing next to him.
“Your Highness,” he stammered, lowering his head.
The princess flinched and cast a glance over her shoulder before hunching toward him. “Maybe we can um… skip the Highness stuff?”
“Right. Of course.” He forced himself to nod and swallowed hard. “How can I help you?”
“Wait, so you’re Max Hatter?” she asked, raising her eyebrows before catching herself. “I mean, yes, I was looking for you, it’s just… I expected such a skilled mechanic to be… someone with more experience?”
A small laugh escaped him as he looked at the embarrassment still written all over her face.
“Were you expecting an old man with a mustache and pince-nez?” he said, suppressing his amusement. “Don’t worry, you’re not the first.”
“Not at all…” she replied, put at ease by his reaction. “It was more the lack of a hat that confused me.”
“Well then, I’m sorry I didn’t live up to your expectations of a Hatter descendant.” He gave her a cheeky wink, making her chuckle softly. “My signature accessory is currently being serviced.”
He turned and bent down to pick up the hat he’d dropped earlier.
“I had a little mishap with the welder this morning,” he said, showing it to her, and then leaned toward her, lowering his voice. “But enough about me. How did a princess like you hear of me?”
“The castle staff likes to gossip about what’s going on in town. They say you’re the best mechanic in all of Auradon. And I just needed a little adrenaline, so instead of sending you that robot, I wanted to bring it to you myself.”
“So the sole heir to the throne of Cinderellasburg is sneaking out of the castle unescorted just to meet a regular mechanic? Well, it’s not my place to question your decisions.” The girl chuckled quietly again, which he found quite sweet. “I guess the hoodie helps maintain anonymity. Aren’t you too hot?”
It was actually quite warm that day, and even Max was wearing a comfortable, work-style sleeveless jacket instead of his coat.
“Dying,” she said. “But I’m trying to be inconspicuous.”
“Even that works. Although you do look a little crazy. Don't you think it'd be better—”
“Maybe you two should get down to business already?” asked Alice, clearly bored with their conversation. Max glanced at her, rolling his eyes.
“That's Alice. She helps me with my work,” he said as Chloe leaned forward to look at her from over the counter. “She's not very sociable, as you can see.”
“I just know my job. And entertaining customers isn't part of it.” The boy shot her an annoyed look, but Chloe just laughed.
“It’s okay, and she’s actually right. I don’t know when my tutor will realize I’ve been running late for lessons for so long.” She smiled at Alice, who made a gesture resembling a shrug and drove up to pick up Max’s toolbox.
As Alice rummaged through the toolbox with her back to them, Max waved a hand at Chloe, silently telling her not to worry about the robot’s behavior. Without waiting for the toolbox, he leaned over the robot.
“From the outside, it looks like everything’s fine. Just some minor scratches from normal use. Is the problem with its mechanics or its software?”
“I’m not sure myself. All the functions seem to turn on, the batteries are working, but it doesn’t respond to any commands,” she replied, watching as he examined the robot. “He was working fine one day, and the next, nothing.”
“He? So he has a personality chip, and it’s probably the factory-installed one, right?”
“Yeah, does that make a difference?”
“That would suggest that it’s pretty worn out. They haven’t been manufacturing this type of robot for almost 20 years, because most companies deemed it unnecessary. For example, the chip Alice has was taken from one of the older models, and I just reprogrammed it.”
Raising his fist, he thunked the android hard on the side of its head, barely catching it before it toppled over onto the table. The princess jumped. He set the android back on its treads and jabbed the power buton, but nothing happened.
“You’d be surprised how often that works.”
“Sure. Are you really a mechanic?” she asked teasingly, amused.
Max smiled and took a flathead screwdriver from the box Alice had handed him. He unscrewed the cover on the back of the robot's casing. Inside was a jumble of wires, each one looking different. Some looked relatively new, while others seemed to have never been replaced. He inspected them all with his flashlight, and none appeared damaged in a way that could cause short circuits or other malfunctions.
He closed the hatch and opened a smaller access panel on the bottom of the robot, pulling out the software chip and the personality chip. He examined them under a magnifying glass and, finding no damage, turned on his laptop and connected the chip scanner to it.
“The wiring looks fine, so that’s probably not the reason it’s not working. I’ll scan the chips right now to check for any potential functionality issues. Have you had problems with him before?”
“No.” Chloe shook her head firmly. “He's been serviced many times, and there haven't been any serious problems.”
The scanner beeped, signaling that it had completed its task. Max downloaded the diagnostic results and handed the scanner to Alice so she could put it away. He carefully reviewed all the information he’d obtained and muttered to himself, absorbed in thought.
“That's interesting. I don't see any anomalies here either. The software isn't exactly brand-new, as I mentioned, but that shouldn't cause any problems, although...” He paused and furrowed his brow as he moved on to the personality chip. “I can’t say for certain that this is the cause, but the personality chip seems to be overloaded. It's possible that, due to the sheer volume of data, the chip is struggling to process everything, so the robot isn’t responding.”
“Are you able to handle this somehow? Will it require deleting information from the chip?”
“I’d have to spend a little more time examining it to make sure nothing else is causing the problem, but for now, that would be the simplest solution. If we free up some of its memory, we’ll take the strain off the whole system and give it enough room to process new data again. The robot should start responding normally once that happens.”
Max paused, staring at the chip as he turned it over in his fingers. He scratched his chin, as if unsure about the idea.
“But there’s a catch. Some of that data is basically his memories. If I delete enough of it to make a difference, he’ll lose information he’s collected over the years. That could affect the way he functions because some of that information might still be important to him or even necessary for certain functions. So yes, I can fix the problem that way, but I just can’t guarantee that he’ll be exactly the same afterward.”
Chloe sighed, clearly mulling over what he’d said.
“Is there any other way?”
“There is one possibility,” he said after a moment. “We could transfer all the data to another personality chip. If we found one with a larger processing capacity that was compatible with his system, we wouldn’t have to delete anything.”
“That sounds better. How long would it take you to find a chip like that?”
“The problem is, I can't say. As I mentioned, personality chips haven't been made in a long time because investors didn't want to waste memory and processing power on making robots more human-like. It's hard to find any at all, let alone ones with greater processing capabilities. On top of that, it would require reprogramming and would have to be compatible with this model.”
Max scratched the back of his neck as he considered his remaining options.
“This could take a really long time. If you’d let me, I could just go through the stored data myself and select the data that can be deleted without affecting its functionality.”
“No.” Chloe said it much more sharply than Max had expected, and he raised his eyebrows in surprise. Seeing his reaction, she swallowed nervously, feeling a little embarrassed. “I mean… Are you sure you couldn’t try to find a new chip? Time and money aren’t an issue. I really care about him… He means a lot to me.”
Max studied her for a moment, and then just nodded, not wanting to pry too much. He’d met plenty of people who felt emotionally attached to the devices they brought in for repair, from old family heirlooms to newer devices containing important memories.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
Chloe's expression softened slightly.
“Will you try?”
“Yeah.” He smiled too, seeing the relief on her face. “I'm not going to give up before I've even tried. Give me a week and come back here. I'll let you know if I've figured anything out.”
“And what if you don’t manage to do anything?”
“We’ll figure out together what to do next with this handsome guy.” He laughed softly as he turned the robot to face him. “At worst, I’ll just have to struggle with him a little longer. What’s his name?”
“His name is Jacques, or Jaq for short.” She laughed too and patted the robot on the head. She looked at the boy again with gratitude.
“I'll try to get away next week and come by. If I can't make it or if you need to meet sooner, text me. I'll give you my contact info.”
Once they’d exchanged contact info, Chloe let herself give Jaq a hug goodbye before Max carried him back into the booth. After setting him down, he brushed off his hands, looking satisfied.
“So, it’s settled. See you later.”
“See you later. I’ll be waiting,” she said with a smile and waved to him. As she walked away, she put her hands in her pockets and looked around cautiously before leaving the market.
Max watched her go, smiling to himself. He turned around to finally tend to his hat, but Alice was standing to the side, watching him, and her screen displayed an expression with narrowed eyes.
“Didn’t you promise her a little too much? A week might not be enough for you to find that chip, and even if you do find it at some repair shop, it’ll cost a fortune.”
“I know, but you heard what she said. Price doesn’t matter. And for my part, I’ll try to haggle. And if not, I’ll try to find something at the junkyard.”
“It sounds dirty and stinky,” said Alice.
“Don’t exaggerate. Did you think I just had the parts to build you out of thin air?” he said, rolling his eyes and sitting back down on the crate. “Mostly the smell of grease and dust. Besides, you don’t even have scent receptors.”
“I have a fantastic imagination.”
The boy didn’t react anymore and just went back to what he was doing. Yet even as he picked up his needle and returned to mending his hat, his mind had already started working. He wondered where he could find a personality chip old enough to be compatible with Jaq, yet powerful enough to solve the problem.
He had indeed promised the princess a lot, but her words had definitely flattered his ego a little, and now he wanted to prove that he really was the best mechanic in all of Auradon.