Page 52 of Chaos Theory

FORTY-NINE

I haven’t interacted with too many people since my first day.

When I walk through the fourth- and fifth-floor areas, it’s eerily quiet and no one looks up from their workstation.

They just continue their coding session or whatever it is they’re intently working on.

Is Josh already gone? I haven’t seen him since Tuesday morning and, while I’m glad, I’m also realising that he and Kobi are the only ones I really know here.

But I can start again, I suppose. I’m used to that.

I make my way to one of the private kitchen areas on the fifth floor to make a cup of tea.

I wonder who Shane is sitting with at break time, who he’s talking to right now.

Will the gang go to Thursday night drinks at Phelan’s tonight, and if so, am I invited?

Technically I’m on hiatus from Go Ireland.

Would Shane be happy to see me if I just turned up?

I watch the steam emanate from my cup and suddenly feel a deep thirst – not the kind that can be quenched with tea.

I exhale, put a lid on it and return to the robot bay.

I’m surprised at how comfortable I feel here already.

Every time I walk in, I feel like a child who’s won a golden ticket and been bequeathed a chocolate factory.

The last two days have flown by. I was instructed to spend as much time as possible with Kobi, and that’s exactly what I’ve been doing. It hardly seems like work at all.

I check on Kobi before settling at my own workstation in the bay.

I have a new idea to experiment with music and associative memory, to see if robot recall could be triggered in similar ways to human memory.

Kobi seems up for it. Of course, technically and scientifically, I don’t really know what I’m doing, but I’m going to document my method and my results, and maybe someone else can develop it into something.

I slip on headphones and download various music files, choosing some at random and others I remember from various times over the past two months – at Go Ireland events or on the road trip to Clare.

As a track fades, my phone vibrates on the desk in front of me. I don’t recognise the number but I answer anyway. ‘Hello?’

‘Yeah, hey. That Maeve?’

I struggle to place the voice but can’t quite get there.

‘Speaking. Who’s this?’

‘It’s Sam. We met at PHI a few weeks ago.’

Sam. The operator who worked with Kobi, the one who sustained a minor injury when Kobi went rogue. I had given him my number in case he remembered anything else about the night of the incident. What was it he’d called me? Ah yes – Sherlock.

‘Oh, hey!’ Play it cool, Maeve . Let him do the talking. ‘Good to hear from you.’

‘So, remember you asked me a lot of questions about that robot?’

‘Kobi, yes. I thought it was a reasonable number of questions, given the circumstances. ’

He laughs. He sounds relaxed. ‘In hindsight, yes, it probably was a reasonable number. Sorry if I didn’t fully cooperate at the time.’

‘That’s okay. We’re talking now.’

I’d make a terrible detective . I sip my tea. The only thing cool about me is the peppermint flavour of my drink.

‘You asked me for information about that night, and I told you what happened,’ he continues. ‘But what I didn’t tell you was that I also made a recording of the incident.’

My mind races. ‘A recording? You mean, apart from the CCTV video footage?’

‘Yep. As soon as Kobi started acting the maggot, I started recording on my phone. Now, the visuals are not great. But there is audio – which I know you don’t have on the CCTV.’

It’s true. The video footage is in grainy black and white – a dystopian, silent sci-fi movie.

‘Okay, I have a few questions.’ I take a breath before the rapid-fire release. ‘First, is there anything interesting on the audio? Second, is there any chance you could play it for me, Sam? Third, I suppose I should ask why you’re telling me this now? Although I’m grateful that you are.’

He chuckles. ‘Now, that is a lot of questions. Let me see if I can answer. One – not sure. Two – I’ll send it to you. Three – I don’t want to get into it.’

‘Well, now you’re just making me more curious!’

‘I believe women like a bit of mystery.’ I can hear his smile down the phone. Then his tone changes. ‘Let’s just say, some things have happened here that I’m not okay with. Upper management stuff. New policies. I won’t get into it now. But you find ways to make your voice heard. To disrupt.’

I nod.

‘Are you still there?’

‘Sorry, yes. I was nodding.’

He laughs again. ‘You are a strange person. Sorry. Strange is good. ’

I gloss over the comment. ‘Thanks. Let’s talk about the fastest way for you to get this file to me.’

‘Cool,’ he says. ‘Let’s talk about the fastest, safest way for me to get this file to you.’