She started to stand and then sat right back down with a big sigh. Spotting the black eye-bot zipping around, proud of his new-found mobility, she said, “Did you tell them I fixed you?”
The eye-bot stopped in front of her, glanced back at his entourage, and nodded slowly.
Syn shook her head. “And they all need to be fixed?”
It nodded again, dropping its singular eye downward, avoiding her glare.
She stood up and looked at the mass of them, her mouth twisting into a frown. They all gazed up at her, expecting her help. “Expected. That’s what you all called me.” She tapped the ebony eye-bot, and her frown gave way to a slight grin. “But what do I call you?”
The bot cocked its head quizzically.
Syn tapped its black shell again. “Well, Dot seems the easy name, but that doesn’t fit. You’re a bit too conniving to be a Dot.”
It floated away and then spun in the air a few times before doing a few quick laps around the room, drawing the attention of not only Syn but the other bots.
Syn laughed. “I could call you Zip. But…” Syn pursed her lips and rubbed the edge of her ear. “No…” Her eyes went wide, and she exclaimed, “I know it! Huck!”
The bot stopped and looked at her.
“What do you think? Huck?”
A moment passed, and then the bot nodded its agreement.
“Okay, Huck. Now I need some help from you.”
Huck moved in close, eager to hear her next words.
“I really need to get to my friend Blip, but…” She waved a hand at the assortment of broken bots, “You’ve brought me a bunch of work. So, I’ll make you a deal. These bots and no others. You shut that door, and don’t you dare tell any other one that I’m helping. I’ll get these all going—” She examined the various bots and sighed, “and I think it’s going to take some time.” She jabbed a finger at Huck. “So, promise me—just these and no others. Okay?”
Huck nodded eagerly.
“Fine.” She pointed at the others. “Now, for the rest of you. Keep your mouths shut. Don’t you dare tell anyone about what I’m doing. Promise me?”
Syn jumped back in surprise as she was greeted with not just nods but several verbal agreements of “Yes” and “I promise” and “Can do” in a strange cacophony of simulated voices. She was so used to her bots not talking, she had forgotten that these could. All except for Huck, yet he displayed a curiosity and alertness to him that similar eye-bots on her Disc didn’t. He had the spark of life in him. Having played around with enough eye-bots, she knew that they didn’t even possess the machinery to verbalize. It was likely the ones on this side didn’t either. Intelligent but forever mute.
“Okay, then,” Syn said, “We’ll do this one at a time. You have to be patient.” Syn pointed to the larger, trash-can sized bot on a single wheel. “Let’s start with you. Come here. What’s your name?”
In a high-pitched, squeaking voice, the large gray bot said, “Ah used to be called Clemence. But they all call me Bear.” It rolled close to her on a massive, thick tire that was nearly a tread. This bot was designed to go anywhere, except maybe indoors.
Syn stopped, trying to gauge the bot’s earnestness, and when she realized it was telling the truth, she worked to stifle a giggle. “Well, Bear. It’s very nice to meet you.” She sat down on the red rolling stool and pulled up next to Bear, running a hand across its side and now noticing a series of three even blue stripes that fell down from its top and ran parallel the length of its body before curving to its back. “And what seems to be the problem?”
Bear’s voice grew low, “I can’t… I can’t…”
Syn leaned in, lowering in voice to match, “Yes?”
“I can’t see real well. Can’t see at all. Everything is just a bunch of big old blotches. It’s not good for someone like me to be unable to see.”
From behind, one of the smaller bots piped up, “He runs us over! That’s why I’m broken. He can’t see where he’s going, the big—”
Syn waved a hand. “Woah! You be nice now, or I’m putting you at the end of the line and may never get to fixing you.”
The small bot gave a quick reply, “Sorry.” Syn stifled another laugh—she wasn’t sure which one had even said it, so she wasn’t sure how she was going to enforce her threat.
Turning back to Bear, she patted him on the head, “Well, I can see why that’s a problem.” She spun back to the workbench and picked up a few tools. “Let’s get that fixed. Shouldn’t be too hard.”
And it wasn’t. Bear’s problem was due to a loose adaptor frame that prevented him from focusing properly and then a bunch of gunk and dirt that had built up on the inside of the two lenses. Most of the bots she worked on that day weren’t incredibly challenging. There were a few that required her to search around the shop for various parts. This workshop was not as stocked as hers. Most of these repairs would’ve been simple over there, but here she was limited to discovering where the previous occupant had stored things, if he had acquired them at all. A few times she had to resort to using a different tool than what she would’ve preferred. And in a few cases, she made the bot better but couldn’t fix the problem entirely. There were just certain parts she was unable to locate. But one by one, each bot left in far better condition than it had arrived. She made sure to give each one a quick cleanup as well after finding a bucket of cleaning materials and rags under one of the benches.
Halfway through the day, the door slid open and in floated the shining globe that was Arquella. Atop of the bot’s spherical form a small plate balanced with three apples and a cup of water.
“How are you doing that?” Syn asked, amazed at the balancing act.
Arquella floated over to her, and Syn took the plate off her head. “Since you did what you did, I’ve been able to do far more than that. It’s not hard at all, actually!”
Syn held up an apple. “For me?”
“The Barlgharel said you’d be hungry and thirsty by now.”
“He knows I’m here?”
“He must. He asked me to bring these to you.” Arquella rotated around, taking in the bots still waiting their turn. “What’s happening?”
Syn eyed Huck who was floating nearby. He hadn’t ventured more than a few feet away the entire day and had been more than eager to help Syn find various tools or items—and Syn had to admit, he’d done a good job. She said, “Someone told the others that I can fix things. The line formed early this morning. Unlike you, this one is a bit more blabby than I’d like.”
“You’re fixing all of them. Can you do that?” Arquella asked.
Syn nodded. “I’m going to try.” Syn looked at the door. “I’m going to have to go after Blip soon, but I think I can get this done. I’m not sure who would help you all if I didn’t.”
Arquella bobbed closer and said in a reverential tone, “You really are the Expected one.”
“Oh, please don’t—” Syn started to say but was cut off.
Several of the bots remaining echoed the phrase, “Expected. Expected.”
Syn dropped the tool in her hand, stood up, and put her hands out, “Woah! Stop that you all.”
Arquella responded, “But you are. You are the Expected. You were sent to not only lead us away from here but to heal us while we’re here.”
“I’m…” But Syn couldn’t think of how to end that sentence. There was no harm in what they believed, and if looked at from their perspective, she was healing them. Each of the bots had been amazed at the repair work she had done. If they thought they were human, then what she was doing was akin more to a doctor (or in a simpler view, a miracle worker) than a repair-woman. She examined the ones still remaining. Nine more. There was no way she was finishing this before nighttime. She momentarily considered stopping and just leaving, but the memory of each repaired bot’s joy had caused her to hesitate. It was important to each of these. She was changing their lives; she was healing them. And the Barlgharel said that Blip was okay. So, instead of leaving, Syn sat back down and picked up a dropped tool.