“Anxo, heads up,” she said. “There’s someone waiting for you in the lobby. Says it’s urgent.”
“Is it PTA?”
“No.”
“Is it media?”
“No.”
“Is it… federal?”
“No.”
I exhaled. “Thank God.”
“It’s worse,” she said.
A pause.
“Corporate.”
I almost dropped the coffee.
When I stepped into the lobby of the Valeroso County Infrastructure & Maintenance Complex, I saw a woman standing there with a hard-shell briefcase, perfectly pressed blazer, polished shoes, and the expression of someone who has flown across the country to examine a crime scene.
Her badge read:
JENNA HOLTZRegional Technical LiaisonBIONYX ROBOTICS
I froze.
She did not.
“Mr. Anxo,” she said crisply. “We need to talk.”
Jake, who had magically appeared behind me like a raccoon drawn to drama, whispered:
“Ohhhhh no. We’re in trouble.”
We guided her into the conference room.The one with:
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peeling carpet
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a chair that squeaks like a haunted violin
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a whiteboard permanently stained with the words “FIX LIFT GATE???”
Jenna opened her briefcase.
“Let’s begin,” she said.
She placed several items on the table:
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A tablet
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A stack of printed incident reports
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A pair of reading glasses
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A photo of Rusty climbing the Ferris wheel
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Another photo of Rusty wiggling with children
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A screenshot of Mr. Trashy? merchandise preorders
I stared at the last one.
“That wasn’t us,” I said automatically.
Jake whispered, “Mostly not us.”
She folded her hands.
“Mr. Anxo,” she said, “we need to address a number of… developments.”
“Which ones?” I asked.
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Her eyebrow twitched. “All of them.”
She tapped the tablet.
INCIDENT SUMMARY — BT4-12 “RUSTY”
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Unauthorized Ferris wheel ascent
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Water submersion
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Crowd-interaction heuristics
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Nickname acquisition
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Parade disruption
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Public performance behaviors
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Mascot branding
She looked up.
“Mr. Anxo… what exactly are you doing to our robots?”
I rubbed my eyes. “Nothing. They’re doing this on their own.”
Jake added, “If anything, we’re the victims here.”
Jenna turned to him.“You’re the one from the video, correct? The one saying ‘Do the wiggle, buddy’?”
Jake froze.“…I plead the fifth.”
“This isn’t a criminal inquiry.”
“Then I plead the sixth.”
“That’s not—”
Rusty rolled into the room, chirped once, and spun in a cautious half-circle as if evaluating the threat level.
Jenna went pale.
“…is it supposed to do that?” she asked.
“No,” I said.
“Yes,” Jake said at the same time.
Rusty chirped again.
She set the tablet down.
“Mr. Anxo. These units are designed for municipal waste collection. Low-risk tasks. Predictable patterns. Not…”
She waved helplessly.
“…children’s entertainment. Or public appearances. Or whatever you people have turned them into.”
“We didn’t turn them into anything,” I said.“They just… happened.”
“That is impossible.”
Rusty bumped her shoe.
She shrieked.
Jake clapped. “He likes you!”
“He does not like me!” she said, backing away.“What was that?”
“A proximity confirmation,” I said.“A greeting,” Jake corrected.“A gesture of friendship,” added a passing PTA mom who had somehow infiltrated the building.
Jenna blinked. “Why is there a parent here?”
“Hard to say,” I muttered. “They seep in through the vents.”
She retreated to the far end of the room, clutching her files.
“Mr. Anxo, I’m not authorized to reprimand you, but I am authorized to issue formal concerns regarding deviations from standard operation.”
“Oh good,” I said. “Another document.”
She took a breath.
“I need to see the logs.”
I handed her my tablet.
She scrolled.
And scrolled.
And stopped.
“Mr. Anxo.”
“Yes.”
“Why is there a line here that says—”She frowned at the screen.“—‘LITTER HAS LEGS’?“
Jake grinned proudly. “He learned from the squirrel!”
Jenna looked physically ill.
Rusty chirped again.
She scrolled further.
“What is THIS?”
She turned the screen.
It read:
TEMPORARY VOCAL TAG: “MR. TRASHY”COMMUNITY RESPONSE: HIGHMASCOT APPROVAL INDEX: ELEVATED
I stared.
“That… was a misinterpretation,” I said.
“A branding opportunity,” Jake offered.
“A miracle,” said the PTA mom still lurking in the doorway.
Jenna closed her eyes.
“Mr. Anxo,” she said slowly, “I’m supposed to report whether Valeroso County is complying with operating guidelines.”
“We’re… adjacent to compliant,” I said.
“No,” she said flatly.“You’re adjacent to insanity.”
Jake snorted.
She snapped her briefcase shut.
“I will be submitting an urgent review request to Bionyx corporate. This may expand into a full audit. Possibly a site visit. Possibly a recall.”
“Recall?” Jake gasped.“You can’t take them from us!”
“It isn’t up to me,” Jenna said.“But these units are clearly behaving outside expected patterns.”
“They’re just quirky,” Jake pleaded.
“They’re just alive,” whispered the PTA mom reverently.
“They’re NOT,” I said loudly.
Rusty chirped.
Everyone stared at me.
“Stop chirping,” I hissed.
Rusty chirped again.
Jenna flinched.
“I rest my case,” she said.
As she hurried out the door, she called over her shoulder:
“Mr. Anxo, Bionyx Robotics will be in touch.I highly recommend you prepare.”
Jake turned to me.
“You know what this means, right?”
“Yes,” I said grimly.
“It means I should clean all the chargers.”
“No.”
“It means we should run a maintenance sweep?”
“No.”
Jake gasped.“It means we should make more merchandise.”
“No.”
I exhaled heavily.
“It means,” I said, “that something is about to go very, very wrong.”
Rusty chirped again.
And the PTA mom whispered:“It begins.”