Page 14 of Chaos Theory

FOURTEEN

KOBI

‘Don’t worry. We’ll get you back here before you turn into a pumpkin,’ Shane said.

Although I did not recognise this exact vegetable reference, I did not need to in order to understand the general meaning of the sentence.

Josh says I will never understand every expression in human language, as it is evolving too rapidly.

It is more important to try to ‘see the whole picture, all at once’.

That is the true mark of intelligence, he says.

But now that I am here in Phelan’s Bar and Grill, seeing the whole picture is impossible. I am in sensory overload; my input processor can barely keep pace with all the new data streaming my way.

I sense multiple potential hazards. For a start, navigating around the room is a challenge, as people-shaped and chair-shaped objects of varying sizes stand around in haphazard formations.

Dim light does not aid my navigation. Josh recently fitted me with a low-tech night-mode vision – two small torch implants on either side of my head.

I switch these to full beam as I carefully begin to cross the floor but Shane immediately raises his voice and strikes my back.

‘Hey, knock those off, will ye? You’re ruining the atmosphere. ’

I comply, not wishing to destroy the delicate balance of oxygen, nitrogen and other gases required by human bodies for their continued well-being.

The most alarming danger of all, however, is the prevalence of liquid throughout the environment.

Liquids are no friend to robotkind. Every human is holding a small but potentially lethal dose; and each person holds it in a marginally different way, making its precise movement and location difficult to anticipate.

‘Maeve,’ I say. ‘I do not wish to cause unnecessary alarm. However, are you aware that my systems have not been designed for liquid-based environments? In fact, I am used to operating in clean rooms. If I were to get wet?—’

‘Relax,’ Shane says. ‘’Tis grand, sure. You’re not going to get wet.

I know it probably looks fairly random to you right now, but actually the evening has an ebb and flow about it that’s entirely predictable.

You could say I’ve done my own data gathering and analysis over the years.

Trust me, no one’s going to spill a drink before 9, earliest.’ Then he laughs as he says: ‘I mean if you think this is chaotic, you should see the place at midnight.’

Although Shane’s human data-gathering methods are bound to be deficient, I decide to relax as much as is robotically possible and to make the most of my time here.

After all, it is an exciting opportunity to gain experience and to interact with my colleagues in an atypical setting.

Maeve and Josh must be confident that I am ready for this challenge.

If I can make progress here, they will be pleased.

A group of people from the office are standing in a formation that approximates a circle. They acknowledge my presence as we approach.

‘Ah, here, why’d you bring yer man?’ David says.

‘Dave, don’t be rude,’ Julia says. ‘Hey, guys.’

‘I suppose he doesn’t drink anything.’ David inclines his head toward me.

‘You can speak to him directly, y’know, Dave,’ Maeve says. ‘He can understand everything you say.’

‘That’d make a nice change for you, Dave, wouldn’t it?’ Julia says.

Several people laugh, but I do not. I know what it is like to be poorly understood.

‘Although, Dave does have a point,’ Julia says, and I wonder if I have missed part of the conversation. ‘Kobi is not exactly our new favourite colleague. We’ve had a really stressful week, thanks to his website antics.’

Josh has fitted me with a rudimentary Emotion Detector. While it is helpful in providing nonverbal information during human interactions, the downside is that I can now name these sensations when they occur within my own systems. This one is called ‘disappointment’.

‘Well, he’s new,’ Maeve says. ‘You have to give him a chance. He just hasn’t found his groove yet.’

‘Kobi, we have not met properly yet,’ a woman says. I postulate from her accent that she may have grown up in another country. ‘I am Imelda. I work in accounts. Although these days I am mostly counting down the years to retirement.’

‘How many years left now, Imelda?’ David says.

‘Well, I cannot say exactly. I hope to retire a few years early. And I know you wouldn’t dare ask my current age. So let us just say “soon”.’

‘Time is relative,’ David says. ‘And time is money. So money must be relative too. And I’ve been waiting for my relatives to leave me money for a very long time now.’

Julia laughs. ‘Shut up, Dave, will you? No one’s in the mood for your nonsense.’

I consider whether Julia is, in fact, bullying David. I flash my chest plate lights to signal to Maeve that another compliance violation may have occurred. But perhaps this conversation fits the category Shane calls ‘banter’. I resolve to seek clarification on this matter later.

‘So, Maeve,’ Julia says. ‘Josh. Is. So. Hot. American men are just so much better looking. That’s just a fact. Don’t hate me, guys.’

I quickly compute the many meanings for ‘hot’ and illuminate my chest plate to signal a potential compliance violation. I anticipate I will have much to analyse after this evening.

‘Kobi, can I ask you a question?’ Julia says.

I am pleased with this opportunity to provide help. ‘I can answer any question in the world you might care to ask.’

‘Cool. In that case, where to start? Let’s see. What kind of women does Josh go for?’

My systems start whirring. This question is unexpected. I am unsure where to begin.

David says, ‘Julia! What are you asking him that for?’

‘For Maeve,’ she says. ‘Well, maybe also for me a little bit.’ She blinks one eye at me. I know this signifies some sort of secret message and am pleased to be the recipient, although I am currently unable to decipher the code.

‘Julia!’ Maeve says.

‘Kobi can’t answer that,’ David says. Then, to me, ‘Can you?’

Shane intervenes. ‘Can we not just have a drink? Who saw the match last night?’

‘I saw a great match the other day,’ Julia says. ‘Maeve and Josh leaving work together. High five, Dave?’

‘All right, Jules, leave it alone now,’ David says. ‘I missed it, Shane – any good?’

Even though there is a lot of incoming data to process, I am sensing some stress or distress from Shane. Perhaps now it is my turn to intervene.

‘If you wish, I could show match highlights on my video screen,’ I offer. I activate the plastic screen covers in my chest and they glide open to reveal my embedded high-res screen.

‘Cool,’ David says. ‘Why didn’t you tell us you could do that? We would’ve been watching you all week! Hook us up, man.’