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Xiphoid was working on a bot. An Arachnoid, not an uncommon sight in maintenance. It was an older model, with an ambitious number of moving parts for when it was designed. Intended for textile production, the model was usually issued to work in factory settings, along production lines. A good idea on paper, but not in practice. Sure enough, one of its four arms had gotten caught in the bigger machinery. Could've been a deliberate action spurred on by a human supervisor, or a mechanical failure brought on by repeated stress to the joints. The file didn't describe the full circumstances. It didn't matter. All the bot really needed was a few parts replaced and a bit of cleaning. That'd been easy enough. This wasn't the sort of repair that would normally require xer skills, but it'd been sent to Xiph anyway. Maybe because none of the other Xiphoids had time for it, maybe because none of them felt bothered to do it themselves, maybe just as busy work. But it was work all the same, and Xiph savored it. That's why Xiph was so immediately annoyed when they were interrupted by a ring at their office door. Admittedly, the doctor was running a bit later than anticipated on their current project. The repair was only scheduled to take an hour, but Xiph had found a few parts on the Arachnoid's other arms that needed replacing, likely from smaller accidents that hadn't impeded its function enough to warrant sending the whole bot out. Those weren't listed on the initial damage report, which meant the Xiphoid didn't have to fix it, but Xiph did it anyway. They didn't have anything else to do today- or so they'd thought. No, Xiphoid was certain they hadn't had anything else scheduled for the day after this. Who was at their door, then? Pulling them away from their work, without even the decency to schedule an appointment, or give them a heads-up? And when they were so close to being done. Surely it wasn't the other Xiphoids back with more work to drop on them. But who else? Was it a human? No, no. In the maintenance wing? That couldn't possibly be it. A second ring pulled Xiph back out of xer thoughts. Right, no point in questions. They can just open the door. The door slid open and the doorway was empty. Then Xiph tilted their head a little further down than usual.  It was a small bot, very small compared to Xiph, maybe around 5 feet tall. A model they didn't immediately recognize, this was rare. Big eyes, thin protrusions in place of ears, sleeves? A quick search of the database gave them a match: Nautiloid. A skim of the basic model file gave them more information: 'Intended for deep sea research.' That explains why they hadn't seen one before. The Nautiloid simply stared back up at them, unblinking. No clear expression. Still no greeting. Xiph would have to make the first move. "Hello." No verbal response, but at this, the bot's eyes finally blinked. A deliberate gesture of acknowledgement. Xiphoid continued. "I'm sorry, I was sort of in the middle of a repair. Did you need something?" This time, Xiph got a nod in response. … And nothing else. Xiph pulled back up the file they'd found, and skimmed it a second time, searching for something in particular. 'No speech program.' Of course, that's a logical design choice. What would it use that for, talking to fish? Still, very inconvenient at the present moment. This would require more time than they wanted to spend standing in their doorway. Xiph sighed, an expression of resignation lost on the Nautiloid, then moved to beckon it inside. "You can come in." Xiphoid instructed the little bot to sit by the desk until xe was finished. The bot complied and hopped into the guest chair. There it sat, perfectly still, watching the doctor work. Staring into their back. Xiph did their best to avoid acknowledging the new audience, but couldn't quite get back into the groove. Working under watching eyes was never pleasant. They finished their work quickly. Xiph saw the repaired bot out, and watched the door close again behind it. Then turned back to their unexpected guest. "Nautiloid model, intended for deep sea exploration, no speech program," Xiph recounted the information they had so far, ready to solve this new conundrum. It was almost exciting. "You can't speak, but you understand my speech just fine, yes?" The bot nodded. "Good. So I just need to stick to yes or no questions. Easy enough." Xiph recalled a human game with a similar premise. They’d always liked that one. “I assume you’re here for repairs. Is that correct?” Another nod, just the same as the last. “And do you know if you have a file started already? Have you seen anyone before me?” Wait, that was two questions. There they go, getting overexcited. A short pause, processing. Two nods. “Ah.” The doctor fought xer disappointment. Xe always loved getting to make new files. Not that it was important. “Alright, let me pull that up. It’ll be faster than just listing out every possible damage and defect.” The doctor moved around the desk to their own chair, well-loved and only a little too short for them. The Nautiloid carefully turned its chair around to face them. A proper meeting position with a desk between them, much better. Xiphoid didn’t have the bot's exact ID, but a search on their laptop found only one Nautiloid registered as currently in the center. Naut0324. File created by Xi04- of course she’d gotten a hold of it first. The full edit history, however, was more surprising. This bot had already been checked by half their department. The file had been created a month ago, but its contents were light. Lists of diagnostics run, hardware and software checked, multiple times over. Each with the same result: 'No issues found. No maintenance done.' That’s why it’d been sent to xer. A puzzle. Xer favorite. An easy place to start an investigation would be the subject of the mystery itself. Xiph turned to address the Nautiloid. “Do you know why you’ve been sent to us?” This time the nod it returned was slower, unsure. Xiph tilted their head at this new response. “You do know?” They glanced back at the file to check again that they hadn’t missed anything. “Your file doesn’t list anything being wrong. Which is odd, because there should at least be a note from the human sending you as to why you were pulled from…” Xiph's sentence drifted to a halt as they looked back at their patient. The Nautiloid wasn’t looking back at them this time. Its expression had finally changed, shifting into an expression Xiph could only guess was frustration. The bot had no eyebrows, or at least none that Xiph could see under its bangs, but its eyelids were low, and its mouth twisted into a most disgruntled frown. It looked unnatural, likely not something the face had been designed for, but here it seemed to be all the bot had to communicate. This wasn’t something they could 20-Questions their way through. A different approach would be needed. Xiphoid opened a new text file and turned the laptop to the other bot. The Nautiloid stared back at the blank screen, expression reset once more. Then at the doctor, awaiting explanation. Xiph gestured to the keyboard. “You know how to type, right? Just write out what you know. Why are you here?” Nautiloid studied the laptop for a moment. Slowly, they pulled up a claw-like 3-fingered hand, and began to poke at the keys. It didn’t have the dexterity for proper touch typing like Xiphoid had been taught, but it managed. Slowly, its motions gained confidence, getting more familiar with the layout. Xiphoid waited until the bot came to a full stop and looked up before they turned the laptop around to read. 'I collected samples. I sent reports. I stayed under the water for many days. Human team receive my reports. They tell me what to do next. Team stopped responding. I sent reports, no response. Alone. 217 days. Boat came and collected me, no warning. Sent me here. Many robots. I do tests, no response. 9 days. Nothing to report. I do not know what is wrong with me.' Xiphoid had always known they were sentimental for a robot, another oddity in their programming. They kept junk files on their laptop, physical pieces of paper tucked in their desk, things that gave them this same sort of feeling. Xiphoid often recalled the phrases found in human text to describe these sorts of feelings, tightness in the chest, ache in the heart, stinging in the eyes. All things linked to their biology, to systems the Xiphoid didn’t have. But they could assume it as a similar sensation to the one running through them at that moment. Something about these bits of text were so familiar, not as if they’d read them before, but their meaning. They'd thought it a million times, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. For once, Xiphoid had no idea what to do. What could they do? What was the repair to be done? Where was the problem to be fixed? They read the text through a second time. Then a third. It didn’t make sense. Nautiloid’s fin twitched in their peripheral, and Xiphoid snapped back to attention. Xe was making it uncomfortable. Xe shut the laptop. “I’m so sorry,” Xiphoid apologized, not entirely sure what for. “I… I don’t know what’s wrong, either.” The Nautiloid’s fins drooped. Its face twisted again, eyelids low. Disappointed. Without thinking, Xiphoid reached across the desk and held its hand in theirs. An attempt to comfort. Another gesture lost on the little bot, Xiph thought, but it was all they could think to do. What the Nautiloid model had could hardly be called a hand, less fingers with less joints, a simple grabbing implement. Intended to collect samples. Not that Xiph's hand was much better, long and slender, removable joints, some fingers still swapped for small tools. Intended to complete repairs. No, this wasn't something they'd been trained for. This wasn't something it had been designed for. But here they were, two bots. “Hey, look at me.” Camera to camera, metal on metal. "I want to help you. I will. Promise." Xiph gave it a smile. Naut twisted its mouth to match. |