I have finally gotten my braces taken off *dance dance* so I will bless you all with this chapter. I don't know how many other people have tried it, but it's really hard to get into a robot's head to write for them... Damn mechanics...
Don't own these characters.
Also, worked out the typos.
Tutakhamon didn't follow his predecessor's monotheistic beliefs anymore, Sting was a musician instead of a spelunker, Jesus of Nazareth wasn't trying to become a fishmonger, Marconi wasn't an splatter painter, and the Time Cops were exhausted.
Larry leaned his metallic back against the wall, steam being vented out of his sides, his 'eyes' fading and his central processor beeping.
"Larry, you okay?" Otto piped up, worried for the robot.
"Wha— oh yes, yes, fine. I just need to recharge my batteries, I'll be fine, Otto." The robot straightened up, and dragged himself to the nearest outlet. It was in the kitchen, down the hall. As he lugged his metal frame across the published tiles, his beeping increased in speed.
"Yes, yes, I know," he said to himself, knocked a small fist against his chest plate to try and stop the noise. He wanted to hear music, good music, not Tuddrussel's occasional off key singing. Duke Ellington, Beethoven, Malischewski, Bill Withers, Lionel Hampton, Mozart, Rotha the Mighty, Xeral, something soothing...
The kitchen door glided open, and Larry all but collapsed into the room. Pulling himself towards the nearest outlet, he pulled an extension cord out of his wrist, and plugged it into the wall. The beeping was silenced.
"Hey, Lar!" The robot played the moan-track (number 37-9.2) from his audio files. "Get me a roast beef sandwich while you're in there!" Aqua turned red for a moment as the robot considered throwing something towards the voice. But Tuddrussel was on the other side of the door, and any dent Larry caused would only be another thing for him to clean up.
Ignoring the Texan, Larry looked at his wrist and poked at the illuminated screen. Audio-Music-Jazz-D-Duke Ellington-Most Requested-Sentimental Mood-Play.
The kitchen was filled with the sounds of a piano, trumpet, and bass in a second. Larry vented the last of the air out of his system, then leaned against the counter top, legs bent, ankles crossed, elbows on the polished faux-marble. He'd cleaned the kitchen the day before; it still looked decent. A good sign.
The tempo slowed down for a moment, and over the jazz Larry heard the patter of small feet.
The door to his right, the one he'd entered through, glided open, and Otto came trotting in. His legs were too short for him to get around any other way. In the child's little hands was a glass that had a small white rim on the inside of it. Circuits fired off inside his head, his version of a synamps firing off. Larry's mouth-piece moved up-side-down, his 'Happiness. Emotion' file being opened by the sight. The robot, never forgetting the job at hand, focused his eyes on the residue, turning the music down slightly. Milk, perhaps a night of so old, calcium still clinging to the glass like water does to buildings in a flood.
"Sorry ta bother you, Larry," the robot focused his eyes on Otto. A scan (a literal one) of the human's face showed sections of heat on his brow, cheeks, and mouth. Signs of exhaustion. "But I forgot ta bring this glass in this morning."
He came up to Larry, his tennis shoes squeaking against the floor, contrasting the jazz. The robot took the glass as Otto held it out to him, and turned the music down more, so only he could hear it in detail.
"That's quiet all right Otto," He turned and ran the sink, swirling the water around the glass until the milky rim disappeared. "There's no need to apologize," Although, it was high appreciated.
"Excuse me! Ro-bot! Ah asked you for a sandwich!" Tuddrussel came lumbering in as Otto hoisted himself into a chair. The man had similar pockets of heat on his face, but it was more of the forehead and cranium, too much thinking probably.
"Otto," Larry said, trying again to ignore his co-worker, "Would you like anything to eat?"
"Uh…" the little human looked around, from Tuddrussel to Larry, as if choosing which one to side with. His stomach won out. "Could you please make me a PB'n J, please?"
"Of course," Larry reached for the bread, undid the twist-tie and coaxed out a pair of soft slices.
"Uh, par-don me, but, Ah asked you for some-thin five minutes a-go. Now, Ah would like a God-danged roast beef sandwich!" Tuddrussel approached Larry, not stomping, but close to it. His big arms and hands were held at his sides as if this were some kind of showdown.
"Yes, I heard you. Now go sit down, I'll get to you in a minute." Larry opened his 'Irate. Audio' file and heightened his volume as he said this. Anger was the only emotion that he could imitate that registered with Tuddrussel. That and the word 'yes'.
The cop grumbled under his breath but sat down next to Otto. The two began to talk about the mission, and out of the corner of his 'eyes', Larry noted that there was paint on the side of Tuddrussel's mask and spandex hood. He'd have to look after that later.
Grape jam, peanut butter, a few small slices of apple, and a song later, Larry scanned the fridge for roast beef. Two or three small slices, it would have to do. Ninety seconds in the microwave, on low heat. Just long enough for it to get piping hot before it was shoveled into the human's gaping maw.
Larry presented the steaming sandwich to his co-worker who accepted it with a grunt.
"Well, you could at least say 'thank you Larry, for making me a hot meal!'" More from the 'Irate. Audio' file, high volume.
"Well, Ah would, 'cept you never thanked me for gettin' that python offa your fat head!" At this Larry's memory banks reacted involuntarily and he was a captive audience to the brief film of the memory file. The snake lunged at him, as he stood on the desert-scape with the Great Pyramids of Giza behind him. Trying meekly to fend off the retile, he had put his hands up, only to have them crushed against his mouthpiece as the serpent wrapped its self around his head. His mind had registered Tuddrussel laughing, but the snake was soon forced to loosen its hold.
The memory of this moment's disgrace made his mental circuits overheat, causing his mouthpiece to glow a hot iron red. Blushing.
"Oh, so you can stand there a laugh, and I have to thank you?!" The two began bickering, one in high volume, and the other around chunks of sandwich.
Otto, having devoured his lunch the moment it was set before, hopped down from the table and carried his plate over to the sink. He remembered when he'd been the one who was stuck with dishes back in the orphanage. It had been one of the easier jobs he was assigned, in fact one of his favorite. It had been relaxing, hard on the fingers because the hot-water-heater was always broken, but it was mindless work.
The child contemplated this as he stepped out of the room, making a mental note to thank Larry when the fighting was over. Dish washing…It was mindless, easy work. Was that why Larry seemed to like it so much? He did seem to like it, so that might be it. He'd been a diplomat before, had he been fussy like this when he'd been doing peace-talks and negotiations? Probably, Columbus had been a magnetic guy, but good diplomacy took the eyes of a perfectionist. Someone who read the fine-print, no matter what language it was in.
Otto wandered into the control room. The computers screens glowed silver-green-blue, but had nothing that wasn't binary. He stood here in the artificial light and waited. He'd had four missions that day already; he felt it in his gut that the alarm would go off.
Otto closed his big eyes and waited. Nothing. He opened his eyes and watched the red bulb for any glow. Nothing.
"Lawrence! When Ah get my hands on you!" The tread of heavy feet brought Otto out of his thoughts, and the clang of metal against metal made him look at the door.
Larry came in first, leaping into the room just as the doors swished open. The robot lunged for the shiny little keypad beside the door. The doors sliced through the air and connected just as Tuddrussel's visage became clear in the other room.
The robot looked at his wrist, from which came an extension cord that had been trailing along the floor. His retracted the cord, before plugging it into a small outlet Otto hadn't seen before.
"Uh…" He remembered the sandwich, "Thanks for lunch, Larry." The robot looked up, his eyes flashing for a moment as he took in the human with a quick scan.
"Oh, it was nothing Otto," Larry said, absently, his eyes returning to his wrist-screen. Halfway charged. Thirty more minutes and he'd be at full power again. A night's charging and he'd be charged for two days. Two regular days, not crazy ones like this.
"Open this door, Robot!" Tuddrussel started to pound on the other side of the door, the sound echoing through the control room. "Open the door!"
Larry, more circuits firing off in his head and a cloud of steam emitting from his sides, felt the slight desire to roll his eyes. Programming that was a fine mesh of the recreated human emotions of an android and the cold logic of earlier prototypes had granted him these desires, immobile eyes denied him the actions. He contented himself with a sigh from his 'Annoyed. Audio' file, number 37-9 would do.
Otto watched the robot as he kept a hand on the 'close' button and sighed to himself. He didn't know how a robot was supposed to sigh, because they didn't breathe, but Larry sighed a lot. In fact, he sighed more than anyone Otto had known, even more the Poe had after he'd taken up drinking again. And after he'd started using opium again.
It seemed rude to ask how the robot could create human sounds. Perhaps his not being human was a touchy subject, like how Tycho Brahae's nose had been, after it had got cut off.
"Well, I…uh…" More pounding from Tuddrussel made Otto turn to the door on the other side of the room. "I'll let you recharge a little bit." He trotted out, squeaking.
Larry scanned Otto's face as he left the room. He was getting some color back, after having spent a good deal of time in the desert. That was good.
Seeing the door swing shut behind the little human opened Larry's 'Impatience. Emotion' file. He didn't want to be stuck half-charged with Tuddrussel after him. The oaf hadn't check the food supplies, so why should Larry mind if the sandwich was the exact weight he normally made it?
His memory files opened, and he watched as Tuddrussel began to argue with him over whose turn it had been to call Earth for food. Larry had checked his calendar and schedule; it had been Tuddrussel's turn. But, humans weren't very reliable when it came to schedules, especially not in space.
The pounding on the other side of the door was beginning to slow, and the robot picked up the sound of Tuddrussel's panting. He checked his batteries again, still only half charged.
Larry tapped the control pad beside him, setting the doors to their 'locked' setting. He turned his music off, and gave himself twenty seconds to close his files before shutting down. Music, close, audio, closed, infrared scans down, emotions, closed. He set his battery-charger to automatic, and slumped against the wall. His eyes turned gray and his head bowed. Sleep mood.
Can you tell what kind of music I like?! Jazz?! Yes! Anyway, I know the end was kinda rushed, so any comments you have are very much appreciated.