Page 5 of Chaos Theory
‘No, he couldn’t make it today,’ says Josh quickly. ‘He’s on with Tokyo all afternoon. Maybe next time.’
I try to calculate the time difference but can’t quite manage it. I have a vague sense that it’s midnight on the other side of the world.
‘Anyway, time to introduce you to Kobi now,’ says Josh, moving towards the door.
‘Wait – you haven’t told us about his last job yet,’ I say.
But Josh is already halfway out the door. ‘Right, right. Listen, that’s a long story. I think maybe we should talk about it another day. My number’s in the bag – give me a call. But now, if you’re both ready, I’m gonna get Kobi in here. Just act natural around him. The world of Robot Relationship Management awaits!’
A few minutes later, Josh reappears and holds the door open for our new colleague. Kobi is tall, as tall as Josh, and mostly made of what looks like gleaming white plastic, with articulated limbs. His face is a little disconcerting at first. He has features that can move, but thankfully, no effort has been made to make it look like a human face.
‘Hello, how can I help you today? My name is Kobi. I hope we may get to know each other well.’
His voice sounds robotic, but it’s not altogether unpleasant.Josh referred to Kobi as ‘he’ and I notice myself automatically doing the same thing. I tell Kobi my name and say that I’m happy to meet him, just like I’d greet any new colleague.
JP stands in front of Kobi and stares up at him, then starts to walk around him. Kobi initiates a sort of shuffling movement, and the pair maintain pace and visual contact as they go around. When they get back to where they started, Kobi says, ‘Thank you for the dance.’
I can’t help but laugh. ‘That’s funny.’
‘It is something I have heard humans say to each other in doorways and corridors when they meet face-to-face,’ Kobi explains. ‘But if you like jokes, I have every joke ever recorded right here.’ He illuminates a video screen in his chest plate. ‘I can search by topic, keyword, name of comedian. At my last place of employment, my co-workers sometimes asked me to show them funny internet videos at lunchtime.’
‘You must have been very popular,’ says JP, in a tone I can’t quite judge. Then he makes his voice louder. ‘I’m John Patrick Horgan, by the way. But everyone round here calls me JP, so you can too. I’m Maeve’s boss and we’re giving her the special assignment of looking after you. Ron Tron is a personal friend of mine. I hope that he gets what he wants from you being here among us. I’m sure he’s told you all about me and the setup here.’
‘Actually,’ says Josh, ‘we preferred for Kobi to know as little as possible in advance of this assignment. We’re testing how quickly he can adapt to new environments.’
I hear Josh murmur to Kobi, ‘Good job, buddy – you’re doing great.’
‘Right so,’ says JP, clapping his hands once. ‘Let’s get you settled in. I suppose we’ll treat you like any other newbie. Maeve can give you the grand tour on Monday and we’ll go easy on you today seeing as it’s Friday afternoon. Although…do robots get the weekend off? Maeve, look into that, will you?’
‘Actually,’ Josh says again, this time in a slightly higher pitch, ‘Kobi’s batteries are running pretty low right now. I was going toinstall his power bed somewhere for you and show you how to tuck him in at night. These multimillion-dollar robots need to get their rest, y’know! Maeve, let me walk you through the procedure.’
‘He can start properly on Monday then, I suppose,’ says JP. ‘Okay, Maeve, off ye go – try not to break him too soon, will you? What would Ron say?’
FOUR
Monday, 7:15am
‘Jen!’ I throw my bag down on the seat opposite her in the half-empty carriage. ‘I wasn’t expecting to see you on the early train.’
‘I could say the same about you, mate.’ She smiles at me as she removes her earbuds. She looks tired, her eyes puffy behind her tortoiseshell-framed glasses.
‘What are you listening to?’ I ask.
She pats her bump. ‘Podcast.Relax, It’s Only a Baby.’
‘Any good?’
‘Not bad. It’s only patronising about fifty per cent of the time. Most of the pregnancy books are around seventy-five per cent schoolteacher vibes.’
I laugh. Jen Mason is probably the closest thing I have to a friend at Go Ireland – apart from Shane, who I refuse to put into any category. It’s not that it’s hard for me to make friends. I’ve had so many different jobs and lived in so many places – some might say I collect friends like stamps in a passport. Which, I’m starting to suspect, is not necessarily a good thing.
I don’t know Jen that well, but we live along the same train line so we often chat on the commute. Like many Australians, she’sboth forthcoming and informal, so I know several intimate details about her. Such as, she used a sperm donor that she and her wife chose from a catalogue. She has a half-sister in Australia who she misses terribly. She uses body lotion on her face.
‘So, there was some robot excitement at the office on Friday?’ she asks. I emailed her a summary of events late Friday afternoon, punctuated with exclamation points, crying-laughing emojis and disappearing-into-a-bush GIFs. ‘You know, this could be a golden opportunity for you.’
I search her face for signs of her customary dry sarcasm but find none. ‘Really?’
‘You’ve been saying you wanted to do something different, right? Something new?’
