Page 20 of Chaos Theory

TWENTY

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, I tend 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 still have 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…?’

‘And you work for Ireland!’

‘Not exactly. We try and promote visiting Ireland, yes. That’s our job. But that doesn’t mean we go around like it’s St Patrick’s Day every day. ’

‘I thought the Irish loved being Irish.’ I can’t tell if he’s teasing me or being serious. ‘It’s pretty much all you guys talk about when you’re abroad.’

True.

‘Abroad – yes. When we’re at home all we do is moan about it.’

‘That’s still talking about it,’ he says with a smile that slowly fades. He clears his throat. ‘I thought you’d love it.’

I feel bad. I pick up a bright orange piece, put it down again.

‘Maybe it’s not that bad. It just takes a bit of getting used to, is all. It’s just’ – I can’t help myself – ‘I think he’ll look more like a mascot than a robot.’

‘Well, that could be a good thing, no? You said he wasn’t doing well as a robot. Maybe people might be less suspicious of a mascot. Back home, mascots are a big thing. People love them. Look, let’s get him fitted out and see what he looks like. Hand me that long piece, will you?’

How will Kobi react to becoming a walking robotic tricolour? He was designed and programmed in Ireland – is he technically Irish? And what will my colleagues say? Will this be another reason to complain about him?

On the bright side, maybe this could give people something innocuous to focus on.

Jen Mason is affectionately known as DC; people think they have her figured out, based solely on her excessive fondness for a particular kind of soda.

Perhaps Kobi could become ‘tricolour guy’ or ‘IRE-robot’.

Find his place in the pantheon of office staff.

Josh is busy doing sticker art with Kobi, peeling a transparent layer from each component before sealing it flat against the robot’s torso, arms and head. He places the clear accordion pieces over the joints.

Kobi’s trunk now gleams satsuma orange; his arms and legs shine emerald green. His head, mercifully, remains white. The colours glow metallically, as true as a spray paint job. Will my colleagues find this relatable? Could they possibly find it…endearing?

‘Shall we wake him up?’ I ask when Josh’s work is complete.

‘Go for it.’

I bring Kobi back to life. ‘Hey there,’ I say gently. ‘The operation was a success.’

‘Greetings, Maeve. Greetings, Josh. It is good to see you both. Processing . I do not feel any different.’

‘Look down,’ I say.

Kobi scans his arms and leans forward to assess his lower half. He does not say anything. He takes a step forward.

‘Whadayathink, buddy?’ says Josh. ‘You like the colours?’

‘I look like… Processing . I look like an Irish superhero,’ says Kobi.

I laugh. ‘You do! Captain Ireland. Your superpowers are talking about the weather, only expressing emotion through song and feeling simultaneously inferior and superior to everyone else in the world.’

‘Do you like it?’ asks Josh.

‘I love it,’ says Kobi.