"Auto, as I said, not now. For some reason, people already have enough trouble trusting you, least of all if you had a new gopherbot. When you've done some good work for the colony, they probably won't mind me authorizing you a GO-4 unit. Until then, you'll just have to make do."

After a buzz of irritation, Auto said, "Captain, unless I have an assistant, it is impossible to accomplish the directives you have assigned to me. In case you have not noticed, sir, I am not particularly mobile."

McCrea snorted. "That problem didn't stop you from running the Axiom."

"That was different, sir."

"Really? How?"

Without replying, the wheel-shaped robot zoomed along one of his ceiling-mounted tracks to a nearby console. He stabbed a button with a spoke, bringing up a rapidly scrolling list on the holoscreen. Many of the entries stated: DATA MISSING.

Auto turned to regard McCrea with his red ocular. "Onboard the Axiom, the central computer was constantly updated with both passenger and robotic activities, and the ship's general status. Using this data, I could respond to any complications that occurred and resolve them.

"I still have access to the technical reports of the Axiom's functioning, due to the integral links between the central computer and the ship itself. The robots also have been dependably uploading their activity logs when returning to for their yearly servicing."

"With the humans, their hoverchairs had provided full status reports and personal history records, updated daily. However…" He tilted to consider the standing captain's feet, which shifted uneasily.

"…that resource is not available to me, currently. And while your colonists' have shown much enthusiasm for using the BnL Handheld Datapad, they have displayed less in regard to keeping their logs updated. As the device doesn't perform this function automatically, there has been a fall to fifteen point four five percent of current human-related records available, sir.

"And without constantly updated, accurate information databases, I am unable to perform the advisory functions that you wish."

McCrea resisted the impulse to take out his own personal datapad, and instead fidgeted. The thing would plead him to fill out its' info logs whenever he used it, but, well, he just never got the time. Never seemed that important, anyway.

Then he got an idea. "Wait a minute, Auto. I do keep all the essential colony records on hard copy, in my office. I've written down almost all the important stuff that's happened since we landed. Important decisions, births, marriages, crop yields, the sort of statistics you'd like. You're welcome to come on down to my place and look through my, uh… papers…" He trailed off.

"You see the conundrum, Captain. In addition, even if you were to move these papers to the bridge, I would have severe difficulty in looking through these 'hard copies' without assistance." Auto waved a spoke to illustrate his point, and the captain looked at it, frowning.

It was hard to imagine the autopilot digging through the numerous filing cabinets, trying to read the nearly transparent sheets of paper that'd been accumulated over the years. Plus, McCrea had to admit, he'd been forgetting to organize those records for ages. The insides of the cabinets resembled trash cans more than a repository of the colony's history.

Sensing that he was close to convincing the captain, Auto added, "It would also be helpful to have an assistant who would be free to gather environmental samples, as well as recovering information on colony activities. We may be sitting on unknown resources that are waiting to be tapped…"

With a thoughtful expression, McCrea nodded. "Okay. I get the picture. Let me think about it, and I'll get back with you. Is that alright, Auto?"

"Excellent, sir. I will be glad to hear from you once you have made your decision." Auto saluted his captain with his claw, certain that his case was made.

"Hello?"

Auto felt someone rapping on his outer casing. He came out of standby mode, and activated his ocular only to come face to metaphorical face with a rather too familiar white, egg-shaped robot. EVE.

He jerked back along his track in surprise, managing to suppress the irrational desire to flick on his taser. Then he felt rather foolish, as he recognized that the 'bot was not EVE unit 001. That probe still heartily despised Auto since the incident involving WALL-E. Then again, it seemed that everyone 'bot or human disliked him, which he really didn't understand. He had merely been fulfilling his duties.

Irritated with the intrusion, he said, "EVE unit 004. The bridge is a restricted area. Why are you trespassing on it?"

The EVE unit squinted up at him, one of those bizarre, human-like habits that many of the robots had picked up. "I was assigned here. Remember?"

"Negative." He circled around her once, closely examining her, causing the probe to shift into a defensive posture. Auto tried to ignore her stance, and said, "I have not requested that an EVE unit be requisitioned for my use. Therefore, you are incorrect, and probably attempting deception. Please leave immediately, before I am forced to take measures."

Unperturbed by what was probably an idle threat, she replied, "Yes, you didn't have me assigned here. The Captain did. I'm supposed to be your adjutant, stupid."

Auto's processor strips whirled, as he assimilated this new datum. "I must verify this." Without waiting for a response from the probe, he went over to the communications console, and paged McCrea's datapad.

A few rings later, and McCrea responded. Unhappily, there were no visuals. The sound of frenetic hammering filled the background. "Yeah? What is it, Auto?"

Turning to glare at the other robot, Auto said, "There is an EVE probe, specifically unit 004, in the bridge, sir. It is claiming to have been assigned by you to be my new adjutant."

"What? Unit 004? Oh, you mean Violet. That's right, she- No, don't put that…!" There was a loud crash. "Sorry, Auto, we're renovating one of the old warehouses. Anyway, yep. I talked it over with Violet, and she was the only one of Eve's sisters who didn't immediately refuse when I asked if she could help out."

"Captain. You did not consult with me on this. I do not wish to have an EVE unit 'helping' me. I still have concerns about their… stability." He disregarded Violet's quiet 'Hmph!'

"What do you mean by that?" There was a pause. "Oh, it's 'cause Eve was one of the first to change, isn't it? Auto, you've gotta get over your obsession with how the 'bots have been changing their direc-" A muffled shout, followed by the screeching sound of metal on metal.

"Look, I've really got to go, so I'll just say this once. I decided that I really can't approve the construction of a new Gopher. When I ran it past a bunch of people, they objected. Violently. I think they're still too many bad memories. But I understood that you're having real difficulties doing much of anything useful, so I asked Violet to lend a hand.

"She's smart, mobile, and can do all that fine handwork that you admitted you can't do. If you don't want her assistance, that's fine. But she's the only capable 'bot that I can spare to help. So unless you want me to assign, I don't know, VN-GO to you, you just need to suck it up. Okay?"

With the praise that McCrea had given, Violet looked very smug indeed. Auto was still staring at her, feeling his frustration mount. The worst part of it all was that McCrea was right. "Very well, sir." He cut the transmission, and said flatly, "EVE unit 004."

Violet's air of self-satisfaction disappeared.

"I am assigning you a new directive. You are to recover the colonial records stored at McCrea's office, in the town, and deliver them to the bridge. You will be assigned a transport in order to relocate this information. It will be waiting at Airlock 015. Be prompt, as delays will not be tolerated." One of Auto's spokes twisted, and the bridge's elevator door slid open with a ding.

"You are dismissed."

He waited in cold silence for an answering salute, but none came. The probe 'bot turned and left without saying a single word.