episode 08

Interview

The humans claimed they could repair Sttaglite’s crippled leg. Sttaglite did not argue the point – it did, in fact, need to be repaired soon.

A technician was currently sitting on a small stool, melding a piston-guard into place in Sttaglite’s impaired lower limb. Jupiter One sat opposite Sttaglite, a clipboard in his lap. “Sttaglite. Thank you for speaking with me. It is an honor,” he said.

Sttaglite ignored the patronizing tone and waited for something of substance to which to respond. He would allow the human the illusion of control in this conversation.

“May I ask where your loyalties lie? Are you of the Prime Leader’s regime or of Kobal’s?”

The robot sat motionless. The technician was now tightening a loose cable on Sttaglite’s leg with a wrench.

Jupiter One decided to try a different tact: “We are trying to find out what happened here. Why the war ended in chaos. Why the peace treaty was never signed. None of it seems to make sense.”

Sttaglite seemed to come to life. “We agree that the logic appears false, Jupiter One. We want, please, to aid in your efforts here. To find out what happened at the Sea of Sharghile to bring about such … chaos.”

Jupiter One noted the terminology: the Sea of Sharghile was the human name for the great expanse of desert stretching between the warring nations. The robots gave it no name, using only longitude and latitude coordinates to specify any given location. Was the communications unit just putting things in terms a human would understand or was this really an off-world robot? Jupiter One pondered this new angle a bit too long, and Sttaglite broke the silence with a question of his own.

“Tell us, the courier-bot you recovered – was that one … deceased?”

“You were observing us? Out in the desert?”

Sttaglite was silent once again.

“He was still alive – barely – the techs are still working on him.”

“Courier-bot could be carrying important data. Yes? May have … answers about the great chaos.”

What was this robot after? Jupiter One could not quite see, but something was definitely odd about this unassuming communications unit. Something sinister. Why was he interested in the long-distance strider? All he could muster was, “that”s true, Sttaglite. True enough.”

At that moment, another soldier interrupted them, whispered softly in Jupiter One’s ear. Sttaglite listened in – a task easily, and automatically, achieved by his analog voice-reception subsystem – amplifying the whispers before deciphering the organic human language into meaningful data he could process. The soldier was explaining that the courier-bot, Tak, had been reassembled, that they were preparing to release him so he could continue his delivery of the message – if the message’s intended recipient was still alive.

Jupiter One thanked the soldier and then thanked Sttaglite for their brief conversation, adding that they would continue after the evening meal, if that was alright.

Sttaglite agreed.