The Gift
“I don’t care what you think you know,” she snapped.
She was offended. Angry. None of his protocols returned an appropriate response, and he stood mute before her, frozen while his core processors gobbled resources and his circuits spiked toward their thermal limits. He worried that his diagnostic subroutines might trigger an automatic total system shutdown. If that happened, he would be removed from his shop for repairs, a reboot or perhaps be scrapped altogether!
“Auto cabs,” he blurted. A sudden, seemingly random association had emerged from the maelstrom in his cogware, and by focusing on it he was able to begin restoring his optimal balance and avoid damaging his core.
“What?”
“Did you know that auto cabs constantly chatter with each other, exchanging information about road conditions, traffic tie-ups, waiting fares—everything that is of concern to an auto cab? It’s almost as if they have their own subculture that’s taking place all around the city but nobody is paying attention to it. And even though they compete for the same customers, they cooperate with each other. I find that fascinating, don’t you?”
“I find it horrifying.”
“Is that why you ride a scooter?”
“No. Scooters are cheaper.”
“Oh.”
Luca slid off the stool and began stuffing her things back into her pockets. He noticed that only four tiny pink shells were left on the counter before she picked them up. He looked about and noticed one shell on the floor at his feet. As he started to bend over, a new protocol suddenly manifested itself and overrode the previous instruction. If he didn’t retrieve the shell, she would have to come back later looking for it. Very likely she would purchase another latte. Additional profit justified inaction….and maybe they would have another discussion.
“Are you leaving?” Joe 59 asked, straightening up.
She only grunted.
“I’m sorry if I upset you,” he said.
“I’m not upset.”
He reached into the pocket of his apron and removed a complimentary coupon for one free barista drink and offered it to her.
“Please accept my apologies and this expression of my gratitude,” he said.
“You don’t fool me,” she hissed then spun around and clomped out the door like an army on the march.
