Page 33 of Chaos Theory
Kobi certainly doesn’t seem dangerous. Maybe the factoryincident was just a glitch, like Josh said. I check my watch. Break time is over. I’m satisfied – for now.
TWENTY
Tuesday, 2pm
I’m in the Liffey Room, downloading Kobi’s TIL files from the past thirty-six hours. They’ll be the first thing Josh wants to see when he comes in to check on The Kobi Integration Project – Phase 2: After the Watershed. I wonder if Josh is looking forward to seeing me as well as his robo-protégé.
Kobi is currently in rest mode and charging his battery because today he’s getting his new waterproof shield. This morning, following along with an instructional video on the MIT course, and with a little advice from Jen, I made a backup charging station for Kobi, just in case something happens to the main one. I’m feeling pretty pleased with my work – even though it didn’t involve much more than some simple cabling and wiring. Electricity 101, the kind of stuff Dad taught me as soon as I was old enough to hold a screwdriver and sensible enough not to touch any live wires with it.
As I recheck my wiring – ‘Safety first, safety second,’ Dad used to say – I think of the quietly confident way Josh took charge as soon as he arrived here after the Phelan’s emergency. He has the logical mind of an engineer and can break a problem down into sequential steps. Could I ever become like that? In times of crisis, Itend to panic and throw everything in the air – much like Shane threw that ridiculous cup of rice.
I know it’s unfair to compare Josh with Shane, and really, there’s no reason to. Shane is just my sort-of work friend who I’ll probably never see again as soon as either of us leaves Go Ireland. I do regret the messiness of our hookups… Maybe we could have become proper friends without that complication.
And while Josh is the most interesting person I’ve met in a while, I should definitely keep things professional with him. He’s excited about what he’s doing. He’s going places and has some idea of how to get there. I sometimes feel like I’m going round in circles, a drunk at the party of life, trying all the drinks and hoping to find a favourite one before I pass out. Maybe Josh will be a good influence on me. Help me find a new direction.
I look up to see Josh’s handsome face in the glass panel of the door. He’s carrying a large cardboard box. ‘Hey.’ The door muffles his voice. ‘Fragile. Can you?’
I let him in, noting his rolled-up sleeves and tanned, capable forearms.
I nod towards Kobi in the corner. ‘He’s asleep, as requested.’
‘Good. How is he?’
It feels like we’re taking care of a patient together. There’s no need for small talk because we’re on the same page. We’re just continuing the very intense conversation we had last Thursday night, here in this very room, as if we last saw each other a moment ago.
‘He’s doing well, I think. He’s excited about the new evening socials.’
‘It’s pretty innovative.’ Josh smiles his wide-mouth smile. He places the box on a table, turns to me. ‘And how are you? Feeling any less drown-y this week?’
I laugh. ‘I’m really not a fan of liquids these days. I’m glad I stillhave my job anyway. Thanks for…whatever you did to help with that.’
He begins unpacking the box, then pauses to say, ‘Look, you have been thrown in at the deep end, thanks to Ron Tron and his unorthodox ideas. But I’m here to help you.’
He holds my gaze and I get that tingly feeling, like something exciting is about to happen. He doesn’t break away and the look goes on too long.
I hear myself say, ‘So, do you think the waterproof shield will work? It’ll give Kobi more mobility, right?’
He turns away, resumes laying out items on the table. ‘Yeah, it’s kind of a conundrum. For Kobi to thrive, he needs to be out in the world. But I need to protect him as much as I can. If I could put armour on him, I would.’
I smile. ‘I guess we all wear armour, in one form or another.’
He surprises me by asking, ‘What’s yours?’
The question is so direct I laugh. ‘I didn’t mean literally.’
He turns to face me. ‘I know.’
I flush and move closer to the table to examine a series of flat, colourful components – green, orange, white – in varying sizes and shapes. Clear plastic pieces too – short, fat accordions. I pick up a fine green piece and hold it lightly between my palms, like I’m handling an old vinyl record and don’t want to smudge the grooves. It wobbles slightly but holds strong.
Then I notice something. ‘Wait – these colours.’
The three colours of the Irish flag.
Josh beams at me. ‘You wanted him to be part of the team, right?’
He holds up pieces to Kobi’s body to see if they’ll fit where intended.
‘Um, yes. The team. As in, the team at work…?’
