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Vic certainly had news, though Elliot wouldn’t call it good. She met the group outside the office with an explanation for why Mr. Lee hadn’t met with them yet. “He had a frenzy attack right before we arrived,” she said, gesturing helplessly.
Elliot nodded but didn’t interrupt. It must have been some frenzy to keep the man bedridden for two days.
“It began with stress over us, actually,” Vic continued. “Worry about getting everything arranged, while oh by the way the frenzy is much worse now than when he invited us here. Then he worked himself into a tizzy getting ready to meet us, and other people didn’t notice until he almost passed out.”
Elliot winced. “So has he been comatose for the past two days?”
“No, but the doctors have been very concerned. He’s an older gentleman, and they don’t want a relapse.”
“Ah. Right.”
Vic addressed the group. “Mr. Lee is very apologetic, both for being unable to meet us and for the unexpected rate of frenzy attacks lately. He insists that it wasn’t this bad when he first contacted us.” She coughed. “I did call Ms. Kaleel to see what she had to say. It was less than encouraging.”
There was an electronic snort from Hubcap. “Surprise surprise.”
“She thanked me for the update, but said there will be no change of plans. No early shuttle home for anything less than an outbreak threatening everyone’s life.” Vic’s expression turned sour. “It’s just as well. We need those new episodes to carry the show. Leaving early would mean handing over our sponsorship to the competition. Plus we’re contracted to get footage for a half dozen episodes. So we’re stuck.”
Elliot wasn’t sure whether to feel glad for the chance to save their show, or to worry about their safety. His emotions settled on “distressed” and refused to budge.
“What does she suggest that we do,” Hubcap asked slowly, “To minimize risk to ourselves? Please don’t say ‘be careful.’”
Vic wore a wry smile. “That’s a given. No, we’re encouraged to film things that are safe, outdoors if possible, and also the most captivating television we can manage.”
“How helpful,” Elliot said. “Safe and captivating both, huh?”
Hubcap craned his neck in a full-body eye roll. “This wisdom knows no bounds.”
“Mr. Lee said he would find something for us,” Vic said. “He’s looking into a couple possibilities now. And he is very sorry for downplaying the level of frenzy here. It wasn’t bad at all before, and they really do need both employees and funding. They’re hoping for good press from our show.”
Hubcap straightened up and crossed his arms. “Well, that depends on whether or not their lovely planet kills one of us, doesn’t it?” He looked at the others. “One of you, I mean. I’ll have to deal with it afterward.”
Elliot huffed a silent laugh. “Yes, thank you for clarifying.”
Graham spoke up. “What’s our next move, then? Wait until Mr. Lee gets back to us with options?”
Vic shook her head. “We should use our time productively. He’ll find us. Did you see anything else out in that garden?”
Elliot thought hard. “Nothing we didn’t already film. We could wander around looking for more workers, but that’s probably a waste of time.”
“Ooh!” Hubcap said. “Let’s find Ted in the kitchen! It’s not outdoors, but I’ll keep an eye on everybody. Kitchens are a universal human experience, but this one’s exotic. It could be good to show that even on an alien world, people still have to chop vegetables. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find one of those chefs who do tricks flipping dough and shrimps and whatnot. Or weird alien food that does stuff when you cook it! We’ve just got to see the alien food, you guys.”
Elliot looked to Vic for a decision.
She shrugged. “Worth a try. Mr. Lee should have a new location for us soon anyway.” She went to tell the receptionist where Mr. Lee could find them while Hubcap waxed poetic about the many possibilities.
“We can have the Hubcap & Elliot Cooking Show!” he said. “With those silly white aprons that highlight every bit of dirt except for white flour. They will be cooking some bizarre plant that people on Earth will want to try, and we’ll start a new trend. It’ll be great.”
Vic returned to lead the way while Hubcap continued to talk. Elliot was feeling almost optimistic until the robot gave them all a reminder.
“Just try your best not to frenzy in the kitchen,” he said. “There’s knives there.”
Everyone except for Hubcap was quiet for the rest of the walk. He didn’t seem to notice, taking over from Vic in leading the way, since he’d memorized a map of the complex at some point.
Elliot was no longer surprised at Hubcap’s preparations. Evacuation routes, fire extinguishers, restrooms and water fountains were important. Terrible artwork was less important in emergencies, but the robot tended to memorize the locations of that too. It was Elliot’s theory that he liked to have a ready stock of things to make fun of. This might have been a remnant of his rescue programming to help him lighten the mood on a tense mission. Or it might have been Hubcap’s delight in poking fun at anything he could feel superior to.
If I didn’t know his background, Elliot thought, I might think he was built to be egotistical. But knowing that the robot had spent most of his life not allowed to speak badly of anyone made Elliot more understanding of his loud opinions now. Like the running commentary he was currently doing on the hallway’s decorations.
“This painting!” Hubcap pointed with glee. “Did you guys see this yet? It’s amazingly bad! I mean the color choice is reasonable and the detail work is flawless, but you’d think it would be obvious somewhere in the early stages that human spines don’t bend like that. Seriously, try to hit that pose. You would sever a nerve. And the hands are too big. The artist should have done the hand-in-front-of-the-face trick.” Hubcap held his own hand up, fingers splayed. “Although there is that one genetic condition. Hey Dale, is your hand bigger than your face? Hold it up and see.”
“No, I will not,” Dale said, walking stubbornly past. “I went to public school. I know that joke.”
“Aw,” Hubcap complained. “Dang larval humans, ruining my best jokes.”
Graham looked quietly confused. Elliot caught his eye and explained that it was a prank to slap a person’s palm into their own face. “And then he could say ‘Quit hitting yourself,’ which is peak humor for most ten-year-olds I’ve known,” Elliot said.
Graham laughed. “Of course.”
Hubcap pointed at them with a smile, walking backward. “I am nothing if not peak humor!”
Elliot smiled back. “I’d say that’s debatable.”
“I will debate you any time.”
Vic spoke up. “The only debating that will happen in the next few minutes is us versus a busy kitchen crew with no space for visitors to be getting in their way with cameras. Let’s be on our best behavior.”
“We will surely win that debate,” Hubcap said. “We have stickycam rigs, and dainty individuals like Dale and Tarja who can fit up on a shelf somewhere.” He looked up at Vic. “You’ll get a good view from a doorway, I’m sure.”
“Or I could use that little thing called a zoom function,” the towering woman said. “No use blocking the door.”
Hubcap patted her on the arm. “Lesser mortals shall pass beneath you like monkeys beneath a great tree,” he declared.
Vic snorted. “Monkeys climb trees. You can think up a better analogy than that.”
“Like ... rabbits beneath a national monument?”
“That doesn’t even make sense.”
“Should have stuck with the tree,” Graham said
“Scurrying ants below a towering boulder!”
“Now I’m a rock, thanks.” Vic smirked. “Something tells me you’re not trying too hard.”
“There’s nothing wrong with rocks!” the robot protested. “I’ve always admired them. The way they just sit there, unperturbed by the goings-on around them, undamaged by the ravages of time ... they’re a lot like meditative proto-robots in a way.”
Vic stared at him while Elliot stifled a chuckle. “Meditative proto-robots,” she repeated.
Hubcap threw his hands into the air. “What?”
“Nothing. Nothing at all.”
The kitchen entrance appeared around the corner before Hubcap could marshal a proper response. He shook off the conversation with the air of a cat that had just slipped off a couch and wanted to pretend it meant to do that. Elliot just grinned.
“Ah, there’s the kitchen!” Hubcap exclaimed. “Right where it should be. Show us your mysteries, kitchen.”
––––––––
The kitchen wasn’t all that mysterious, as it turned out, but the TV crew was welcomed with no debate. The various camera jockeys found positions that wouldn’t be in the way, and Ted happily put Elliot and Hubcap to work. Elliot thought privately that the white apron was a distinct improvement over the white biohazard suits they’d worn earlier. He put his own worries aside with the ease of long practice, and did his best to make captivating banter with Hubcap.
“Are you setting a new landspeed record for chopping?” he asked over a stack of bowls. “I’m going to finish the dishes before you’re done.”
“Nonsense!” Hubcap replied. “Behold, I have vanquished the entire bucketload of — oh, there’s more.” His glee subsided as the tub of cubed potatoes was swapped out for a tub of freshly scrubbed carrots. “Well, all right, then.”
Ted grinned. “These ones should be cut into coins instead of cubes. Thanks for making my job easier.”
“That is my purpose in life, my good meatsack,” the robot said with dignity as he picked up the first carrot. “So how thick should the coins be?”
Ted demonstrated, then left Hubcap with the rest and checked on Elliot’s progress in loading the industrial dishwasher. “You don’t have to scrub off everything,” he said. “But these ones will need to soak a while before you put them in. Put that one upside down, otherwise you’ll get scalding water on your hands when you open the door. Got it? Okay, I’ll be right back.”
Ted left, and Elliot immediately asked if Hubcap wanted to trade.
“No thank you,” the robot said, merrily attacking a carrot.
“Oh come on, you know you want a chance to make fun of the gross squishy things that the humans eat.”
“I can do that from here,” the robot declared. He held up a large carrot and pointed at it with his other hand. “Ha!”
It was while Elliot was still trying to convince him that Mr. Lee arrived. Elliot heard Vic calling from the doorway, and looked to see her waving everyone over to meet someone significantly shorter than herself.
The TV crew extricated themselves from their positions. While they did, the kitchen workers greeted the man with a degree of concerned affection that said volumes about his leadership. Elliot and the others circled up in the cafeteria outside the kitchen for proper introductions.
“Hello everyone,” Mr. Lee said with a warm smile and a surprisingly deep voice for someone so delicately built. He seemed healthy enough, despite a fair share of wrinkles and gray hairs, and he moved slowly. Elliot spent a moment debating with himself whether the man looked more Japanese or Chinese, but he gave up, not being much of an expert. “I apologize for not making an appearance sooner,” Mr. Lee continued. “I am Hikaru Lee. Pleased to meet you.”
They all took turns shaking his hand gently, and he apologized on behalf of the station for the crew’s misadventures so far. “I feel terrible for what you’ve gone through,” he said. “I want to make sure that nothing else is liable to happen. Elliot, have you fully recovered from your injury?”
Elliot assured him that he had, not wanting anyone in the room to be worried. A full half of the circle currently staring at him was likely to break out in overprotective concern.
“I’m glad to hear it,” Mr. Lee said. “With that in mind, I have a filming opportunity for you. Some interesting shells have washed up at the river, and we would like to find more of them. They’re both durable and aesthetically pleasing. If there’s a sustainable source, we could find a market for exporting them. I understand they have already been used as backup tools here. I’m told they make fine shovels.”
Elliot watched Hubcap open his mouth to say something that was almost certainly about the gophers, but he showed admirable restraint and kept silent.
“This should be a very low-risk trip,” Mr. Lee continued. “Just searching and gathering. I will tell you that we aren’t certain what type of animal sheds these, but we’re sure that it’s at least partially aquatic, and unlikely to pose any danger to an aircar at a safe height.” He spread his hands. “We will take every precaution. Is this something you’d like to film?”
Vic nodded decisively and said that it was. She and Mr. Lee talked scheduling while the camera crew consulted about waterproof gear.
Hubcap sidled up to Elliot. Expecting a new “Lee” joke, Elliot was surprised to hear Hubcap mutter, “Alien clams. Or mermaids.”
“What?”
“That’s my bet. It could be fish scales, or chicken feet or something actually alien looking, but I’m thinking clams are more likely. They’re shovel-shaped.”
“And mermaids?”
“I’ve got to make the wager interesting, don’t I?”