Page 11 of Chaos Theory
She doesn’t look at me. ‘Don’t worry about it – I won’t have time for lunch today.’
SEVEN
11am
We trundle back along the corridor, a fluttering in my stomach. Not the good kind – I feel terrible. Jen has enough on her plate already.
‘Kobi, you can’tdothings like that.’
I want to get through to him that he’s off to a bad start. He’s just gotten on the wrong side of the one person who was excited about him being here – apart from JP, maybe. I look Kobi up and down, frustrated. ‘I don’t know. Can’t you just be…normal?’
He stops abruptly, bows his head a few inches. For a moment, he appears completely non-functional. Then lights in his chest panel start illuminating in sequence, like Morse code.
‘Normalising settings,’ he announces. ‘Settings normalised.’ He resumes his slow march forward.
Oh God, what was that? And was it good or bad?I feel a cold sweat coming on.
‘Stop for a second. Did I just change something?’ I do a quick body scan, although I don’t actually know what I’m looking for. ‘Wait, do you have a “normal” setting?’
Kobi stops walking, triggers a disturbing robotic laugh. ‘No. Do you?’
I’m confused. ‘Do I what? Do I have a normal setting? Um…no?’
‘No,’ he agrees.
‘Wait. So that was just…?’
‘A joke,’ he says.
‘A joke?’
‘Correct.’
I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. I have so many questions, but I reach for the closest one. ‘But why?’
‘I sensed tension. I know that humans like to relieve tension with humour.’
I can’t help but laugh, remembering a phrase that Shane likes to use any time something ridiculous happens: ‘The mirthless laughter of the damned.’ My mirthless laugh brings me some relief in spite of myself, as does the sight of the maintenance guy heading towards us with his toolbox. But I’d rather not have to explain to him what happened to the elevator, so I steer Kobi towards the end of the corridor, where the customer relations team work. ‘Maybe we’ll just pop in here for a bit.’
This department was my old turf until nine months ago, when Shane and I were both promoted to client liaison positions in marketing. Neither of us had particularly wanted the new role, but it promised a little more money and less customer-facing time. I’m still not sure what the customer relations gang think about my move. We enter the open plan, but there’s hardly anyone on the floor.
I look at my watch. ‘Oh, they must all still be on tea break,’ I tell Kobi.
‘I do not understand why tea break is necessary,’ he says. ‘The working day commenced 120 minutes ago. My battery charge lasts six hours.’
I sigh. ‘Keep your voice down, will you? Think of it like this:humans need regular fuel to do good work. Sometimes the fuel comes in the form of coffee, or tea. Sometimes the fuel is a conversation, or sharing a joke with someone.’
I find that I’ve automatically walked over to the cubicle area where Shane and I worked. Dave and Julia now occupy these desks. They installed themselves almost the second we left, claiming we’d been hogging a prime position where no one could walk behind our workstations, thus ensuring screen privacy at all times.
I stand in front of my old desk, remembering last summer, when Shane went through a phase of leaving Post-it notes stuck to my screen while I was away from my desk. He’d doodle a cartoon version of himself escaping work in increasingly ludicrous ways. Sawing a hole in the floor around his chair. Jumping from the window ledge wearing wings made from photocopier paper. Drinking poison, dying, becoming an angel but then having to work in a very similar job in God’s office. I smile to myself at the memory.
I look up to see Dave and Julia approaching. ‘Hey, guys! I wanted you to meet Kobi on a more personal level. Answer any more questions you had after this morning’s meeting. And, you know, maybe see if he could help you in some way?’ I try to keep my tone light, hoping they won’t realise the extent to which this is already spinning out of my control.
‘What’s the story?’ says Dave by way of greeting. No one loves using Dublin vernacular more than Dave. I told him I was born in Dublin, but because I grew up in other places, he was singularly unimpressed. Although something tells me that Dave is only really interested in being impressed by Julia. He bounces into his seat, stretches his arms overhead. I notice what looks like a new tattoo – a rabbit with an arrow through its heart.
‘Hi, Maeve. Hi, Kobi.’ Julia glances at Dave. ‘What an honour that you’ve chosen our department for improvement.’
Whoa. I should have gone to tea break today. God knows whatpeople have been saying to each other about Kobi. Dave was probably riling them all up with his conspiracy theories. ‘I didn’t say improvement, Julia. I said help.’
