Page 9 of Chaos Theory
No small talk then. Eager to get to work. No wonder this is the future.
‘We – I – haven’t quite figured that out yet. You were kind of a surprise for us, Kobi. We didn’t really have time to make a plan for you. But what we’ll do is… Yes, this is what we’ll do… We’ll see how you get on with various tasks and then settle you wherever your strengths are.’
‘I am very strong,’ says Kobi. ‘If you need me to lift heavy boxes, I am proficient in that area.’
I think of the boxes of unused summer brochures in the storeroom that need to be recycled. ‘I’m sure you’ll be very helpful.’
I lead him towards the elevator.
We get in and the elevator of course does its usual passive-aggressive failure to recognise my voice. I sigh. ‘Oh, this thing is useless. Someone should put it out of its misery.’
‘Please, Maeve, allow me,’ says Kobi. ‘Stand aside.’
It makes sense – a machine would be more likely to recognise another machine’s voice. I stand back as Kobi positions himself in front of the call-button panel. I whip out my phone to triumphantly text Shane that I’ve finally managed to hack the elevator. I’m searching for the exact right GIF to send that signifies relief, cleverness andI-do-know-what-I’m-doing when a flash of light catches my eye.
The panel innards spew forth like entrails as Kobi raises his arm to show me a bunch of wires grasped in his digits. A tiny fireworks display sputters, then all the lights go out.
‘Omigod, Kobi!’ I bundle him out of the compartment. ‘Why did youdothat?’
‘You informed me that this machine was no longer useful,’ he says, cool as an air-conditioning unit. ‘I merely tried to be helpful, as we discussed.’
‘Argh. How would you like it if someone decided to suddenly shut you down?’
He responds by telling me that he is routinely switched off and on, tweaked and prodded, repaired and rebooted.
‘Fair enough,’ I falter. ‘Just stand there for a minute, okay? Don’t touch anything.’
I log an alert with building maintenance. Was this my fault? Did I not communicate clearly enough? Josh said that Kobi was highly sophisticated, with months of bespoke programming.
With the elevator out of order, we have to take the stairs. Kobi assures me that he can climb a staircase, and while technically this turns out to be true, it takes us a good ten minutes to ascend the first flight.
‘I have always known that stairs would be the death of me,’ he says, and I can’t tell if he’s joking or being dramatic so I choose to ignore the comment.
We eventually arrive at the IT department. I hesitate outside the door.
‘Listen, Kobi, let’s not tell Jen that we broke the elevator, okay?’ I feel very generous saying ‘we’. ‘It should be fixed very soon.’Hopefully before Jen needs to descend four flights of stairs to get to the staff café. I’ll offer to bring lunch up to her. She often works through without a break.
‘I am afraid I am incapable of deception, Maeve.’
Of course he is. ‘Haven’t you heard of white lies?’
‘Yes, Maeve. The human capacity for deception is fascinating. But it is not part of my programming.’
‘Fine,’ I say. ‘In that case, let me do the talking, okay?’
‘With pleasure,’ he says, and for a second I wonder if he was programmed to have a sarcastic streak.
We enter the room, Kobi shuffling in behind me. Jen is right to complain about under-resourcing. Every surface appears to be home to a piece of equipment in some state of rehabilitation. But at least the budget has been stretched to pay for a mini-fridge in the corner, stocked almost entirely with Diet Coke cans. I’m remindedthat Jen’s nickname around the office is ‘DC’, on account of her addiction. Shane was the first one to christen her that, and the label was so sticky that everyone calls her that now, even though DC is also Duncan Canning’s initials. It’s unclear what Duncan’s feelings on the matter are.
‘Hey, DC! Jen – I wanted to introduce you to Kobi. He’s the robot – the cobot – who’s going to be with us for a little while.’
Jen swivels around in her chair to face us, looks Kobi up and down. ‘Nice to meet you, Kobi. I’m the IT manager, but I don’t suppose you’ll be needing much help from me. I imagine you’re way more advanced than any of the machines we have around here.’
She gestures to a couple of old laptops and PCs sitting open on a nearby desk, surrounded by empty Diet Coke cans. The machines look like they’re doing long and elaborate software updates, guarded by a tiny army of silver soldiers. ‘I just fix them up as best I can. If budget was a river, I’d be sailing through a desert, using dry sand for a paddle, do you know what I mean?’
I laugh. Kobi is quiet. I realise he’s probably following my instruction to let me do the talking. I doink my elbow against his arm. ‘It’s okay. You can answer her.’
‘It is a pleasure to meet you. I believe I do know what you mean. It is a metaphor to emphasise a lack of financial resources.’
