Joe had no idea that something as simple as returning to his own bed would make him feel so... magical. He and Maggie had only been gone for about ten days, but somehow it felt much longer than that. Of course, this is a mysterious thing and has nothing to do with the fact that this person spends most of his time in a virtual reality that is four times faster than the real world. Regardless, Joe is glad Star Trek is finally over. He silently hoped that the return trip would be easier than the first, but it wasn't to be. Worse, she knew it was completely unnecessary since Maggie could easily resolve all copyright issues. However, he couldn't stay angry with her. Partly because it's his nature not to dwell on the small stuff, but mostly because that's just the way Maggie is. Feeling uneasy about her insatiable curiosity was like yelling at the sun that it was too bright.
"Sorry to disturb you, Master Mulligan." A synthesized voice filled the bedroom. "I have something that needs your attention."
"What's the matter, Jeeves?" he cried, burying his face in the pillow.
"I need your permission to schedule a meeting with the robotics technician in the building."
Joe raised his head and looked at the robot hovering in the air with confusion. He wondered why the robot butler asked him and not Maggie, but he noticed that the girl had assumed a "do not disturb" posture. Therefore, as the second owner, it is his responsibility to take care of the matter. He sat up, looked at the thing more closely, and sighed, a little annoyed.
"You don't look bad," he said.
"Indeed, sir. You will find that I am intact and functional."
"Then why do you need robotics?"
"To keep my warranty valid, I must perform routine maintenance, sir."
"Ah. Yeah, sure, do what you need to do."
"Until then, sir, what date and time do you think would be appropriate?"
"…for me?"
"Yes, sir."
"Do I have to come?"
"My programming does not allow me to leave my assigned premises, sir. Unless there is an emergency, I cannot venture further than five meters from the front door." The robotics technician's office is outside this range, so I need to log off, and then sent there by one of my masters. Madam is not feeling well right now, so this responsibility falls on you. "
"Ah," cried Joe. “Can’t the technicians come to us?”
"I'm afraid not, sir. The equipment required for routine maintenance of my model is not portable."
"Dude...can we, I don't know, just not go on a date?"
"Of course, sir. However, this is highly undesirable, as it would invalidate my guarantee."
"Well, if something happens, Maggie can help you arrange it."
He really didn't want to lug this pile of metal around.
"I must remind sir that custom modifications will void my warranty as well."
Joe was a little surprised by this answer. Until then, the conversation was going so well that he almost forgot he was talking to a highly advanced device rather than a sentient being. Normally he would have Jeeves' logic circuits flipped within two sentences, but it handles this particular subject extremely well. Maintenance is one of the common topics that every owner inevitably mentions at least once and is therefore better developed than other parts of their conversation module.
"Jo," said Maggie suddenly, "can you please take Jeeves to the appointment?"
In her view, a warranty is essentially a contract—an agreement between the manufacturer and the customer. So naturally she wanted support, but at the moment her eyes were filled with tears. Joe seemed to understand what she meant and relented. It would be selfish of him to refuse to take on this small responsibility just because he was a bit lazy today.
"Yeah, okay. Jeeves, schedule that date as soon as possible and let's get it done."
"The next tour is in three hours. Is that okay, sir?"
"Yeah. Well, yeah, of course."
Joe was a little surprised that the robotics technician couldn't see them right away. He thought those people would get bored and would jump at the chance to practice their craft, like Maloney or those lawyers. This is absolutely not true. While few people have personal robots like Jeeves, every super skyscraper has a large number of maintenance robots that need to be taken care of. Additionally, becoming a certified robotics technician is incredibly difficult because the level of technical knowledge required is ridiculously high. All of these circumstances leave there not enough people to meet demand, resulting in robotics technicians being chronically understaffed and overworked. At least the salary is pretty good.
When Joe takes Jeeves into the robot maintenance area, he gets his first glimpse of what it's like. The air inside was stale, with a faint smell of burning plastic. And it's very, very loud. Somewhere in the back, huge machines whirred and hummed. Worst of all, the ceiling lights were so bright that Joe had to squint to try to adjust.
As he adjusted a bit to the chaotic surroundings, he noticed what appeared to be a bay front desk. That is, it was a table near the front door. A guy in a welding mask and dirty overalls sat there, feverishly burning something with a blowtorch. Joe stepped forward and tried in vain to get his attention. He was caught between the mask that blocked his vision and the horrible noise the device was making - he didn't notice the visitor at all. So, in true British style, Joe just stood there awkwardly, waiting for the technician to finish or notice him.
At least that was the plan, but after a few minutes the man's arms began to tire. After all, he was holding Jeeves' hand. The robot butler is not as heavy as it looks, but it is not weightless either. Joe began to wonder if it would be possible to place it on the nearly spotless metal floor. Before he can make a decision, some strange smoke hits his nostrils, causing him to sneeze, knocking over the automaton in the process. The semi-humanoid chassis hit the ground with a loud thud, which seemed to be enough to attract the attention of the technicians. The welding mask was ripped off, but the face underneath didn't belong to the same person as Joe had imagined. It was a freckled ginger woman who looked as if she hadn't slept in days, relying only on tea and sugar to stay awake.
"Are you okay, buddy?" she asked nonchalantly.
"Huh? Yeah, sorry. I didn't mean to cause a commotion."
"Don't worry. You're the young man we made an appointment with, aren't you?"
"I guess so. This thing needs a warranty check or something." He pointed to the floor.
Her tired eyes almost lit up when she saw Jeeves.
"Well, get me in trouble with a balsa bread box, that's a fancy tin, right?"
"I guess?"
The woman stood up briskly, walked over to her visitor, and picked up the robot with an ease that might have hurt Joe's pride, if he had any. She roughly pushed the things in her hands to the floor, slamming the unmoving butler onto the table. The instrument appeared in her hands seemingly out of nowhere, and within seconds she was trapped in the mechanical guts of the machine.
"Don't worry, it won't take long," she reassured Joe. “These things don’t have a lot of moving parts, more bits and pieces than bolts, if you know what I mean.”
"Now that you say so. My name is Joe, by the way."
"Mary," she answered shortly. "I'm sorry I didn't shake your hand, but you probably didn't want engine oil splattered on you."
"Not particularly, no," he replied humorously.
There was a brief pause in the conversation while Mary ran some cables to the inside of the robot.
"Where did you get this?" she asked as she typed on the diagnostic computer. "Didn't know there was an S3-T1 in the building."
"Oh, it's not mine. It's my girlfriend's. She got it when we moved into the suite on the 170th floor."
Mary froze and gave him a suspicious look. She stared intently at the man, making him immediately uncomfortable.
"What?" He frowned. "What's on my face?"
The woman didn't answer, but narrowed her eyes suspiciously.
"That's it!" she shouted suddenly. "You're the one in the trial!" I knew I'd seen you somewhere!
"Judgment? What?"
"You know, trials. And copyrights and diplomatic immunity and stuff like that."
"How did you know?"
"Because I watched the video?" Duh?"
"What's the video?"
“Highlights on a community message board?”
“And the highlights?!”
"Well, really? The video went viral for a whole hour."
As one might expect, privacy wasn't the first thing that came to Joe's mind. As soon as someone walks out their front door, there is no such thing, and the hearings are as public as possible. What bothered Joe the most was how quickly it came. Neither he nor Maggie brought any video of the trial, and if they had, they had no chance to share it. They weren't the only locals to visit Lancaster 3, though. Mr. Charles is there too. From the elimination process, he was the only one who could produce and share this highlight reel.
If it's going viral, it could be a really good thing.
"...Does it look good on me?" he asked.
"If by 'good' you mean 'silly,' then yes," Mary said with a smirk. "That lawsuit is so unfair to you, man."
"Uh, don't get me started. Anyway, is there a public terminal here? I'd like to see it for myself."
"Of course, right over there in the corner."
"Thanks."
He quickly found the tape. Or rather, if he bothered to check the message board, he couldn't have missed it. There are dozens of topics, each with hundreds of comments. The video itself was fine, but browsing the post made Joe feel rather...uncomfortable. This is not because people praised the Magi as a "pale goddess". "It's nothing new, it's just that the internet being the internet took the joke too far." However, there seemed to be a fair amount of negativity, especially directed at Joe. Reviews of him ranged from vile to spiteful. Everyone seems to agree that an ordinary fool like him is not qualified to be Maggie's boyfriend, and that these self-proclaimed "studions" are more suitable for Maggie. Of course, they were just talking, but Joe couldn't help but feel a little worried.
"Hey, Mary?" he called.
"Yeah?"
"Can you do me a favor and not tell me where you live?"
"Oh. Uh, oh?"
“You’ve already posted about me, haven’t you?”
"A little, yes."
Robotics technicians don't typically get a lot of down time, so they learn to make the most of the precious time they do have. In Mary's case, she had nothing to do while diagnosing Jeeves, so she took the opportunity to engage in some high-speed cyberattacks.
"Ah, okay." He shrugged. "How long will it take for you to complete the repairs?"
"Okay," she turned to the screen. "Looks like I don't need to replace any parts this time. This jar is pretty good, you know? It only takes a few minutes of diagnosis and you're good to go."
Sure enough, Jeeves immediately closed the door again, looking as beautiful as ever. Mary even put him on a cart for easier transportation. Joe thanked her and pushed the housekeeper out of the basement and toward the elevator. However, his early assertion that those people were "just talking" and that things would "get better" was quickly proven wrong. Seven people were waiting for him in the elevator. They were men of Joe's age and shared his almost morbid physique but did not imitate his languid manner. In fact, quite the opposite.
"Oi! There are those women! One of them pointed at him.
The man looked around in case anyone besides him might be insulted, but, alas, he was the only viable "female" in this narrow corridor.
"Well, that's a little rude." He frowned. "Gentlemen, may I help you with anything?"
The two strangers looked at each other, smiled dryly, and walked towards him without saying a word. Each of them tried to look strong and scary, but given their narrow stature, it didn't work. Joe just stood there, unable to comprehend what these men might want from him as they clumsily tried and failed to break their necks and knuckles. At least not at first. Somewhere in the back of his little brain, he noted the possibility that they might have bad intentions, given the mountain of negativity he'd just learned about a few minutes ago. Joe didn't like to think poorly of people he didn't know because of how they looked or acted, but this time he made an exception and took this extremely obvious hostility at face value. Certainly, this is an impressive feat of self-awareness.
"Whoa, guys, take it easy," he raised his hands and took a step back from the trolley. "Let's not do anything we'll both regret, okay?"
"Ha! That bastard thinks he's awesome or something!" the tallest one said with a chuckle.
"No, seriously," he urged them, his voice thick with panic. "If you become violent, the consequences are going to be bad. Very, very bad."
He turned his head to the surveillance camera above, his glowing eye barely visible in the lens. The gangsters chuckled haughtily again.
One claimed: "This video will never be seen by anyone, I'm sure of that." "Besides, who said anything about violence?"
"Yeah, no one needs to get hurt," echoed another.
"R-
eally?" Joe asked hopefully.
"Affirmative! All you have to do is stop polluting the vision of the pale goddess with your presence!"
"Um...what?"
The tallest one, who seemed to be the de facto leader of the little thugs, stood in front of Joe.
"I say," he snarled, "you're breaking up with the goddess, and you clearly don't deserve it!"
"That...isn't really an option." He winced. "Look, man, I get it. You're lonely, I've been too, but what's the use of that to me?"
"Shut up! Disappear, trash!"
As he spoke, the leader swung at Joe with all his strength. He'd never really boxed before and it showed. He meant to hit him in the face, but ended up hitting him in the shoulder. The awkward angle at which his fists met may have caused him as much pain as the victim. It was a pretty pathetic brawl, to say the least. Unfortunately for this loveless loser, this still technically counts as an attack on Joe Mulligan.
“Ṭ̵̗̟reinsurance̙͍̲̦͙͜m̞̩̩͘b͕̰͔̗l̸͇̱̜͈̙̤̮e̷͖͈̥̱̦,̡̬͇̮̝m̴̙̘̹o̢̩̭̙
EPS
͚͈̤̣d̨͔͙̲̻̻̦͍̘̞́ͅd̴͖̟͚̼e̠̘̩͎̫s̬̝̬͎̪̥p̬̙͓͇̬ai̦̻̱̪̯̼
.
̗͖̹̝̙͙̪̞̺̪͝Th̺̝̳̣ẹ̙̜̣̹o̝͇͍͉̠͠b͏̹͍͍̬̻s Չ͖̮̲͙e̵̮RV ̻͎͍ȩ̳̻͈͍̻
̲͕̬̺͠h̝ͅ一̖͕̖̭s̻͈̜̟̥̻͝w̩͓̤̦̠͡i ͔̩̻̼ͅt̢̟͔͖̭̗
͕̙͜e͠s̩̺̬͈s̺̝͉̗͍e̹̥ḍ̶̼̝y͓̟̜̯͔o̹u̥͘
щ̙̳͍̱̦̼͕͚͓͝t̠̺͕̜͍̦̹
one
̸̺͖͍s ͎̥̟̫̣̯̙g͢
̜͕̳̯̪̙̼͟e̸̥̖̗̰͖͍s̩̯̗̤s̭̮̰̤i ̬̬̘͉͈ in ͈̘͜s̢̝̬̳. "
A terrible, heart-wrenching sound echoed throughout the corridor, causing the gangsters to fall to the ground, screaming and scratching their heads.
"Oh, my God," Joe sighed. "I warned you too."
None of the misguided loners heard his voice, as things became increasingly bizarre. The lights flickered, the floor grates, the air hissed, and the walls began to bleed. The hooligans acted accordingly, screaming and scrambling to escape the horrific scene. Unfortunately, the door wouldn't open and there was nowhere to go in this narrow hallway. The outlines of almost invisible hideous things moved in and out of their sight, while strange voices whispered strange words into their ears. What really pushed these ignorant thugs over the edge was when countless eyes began to appear everywhere, even coming out of their own hands and arms.
Of course, Joe didn't experience any of this. From previous experience, he knew that whenever Maggie was doing her thing, he closed his eyes and heard her "outside voice" giving him enough warning. He could see nothing, but he could still hear the wails and whimpers of the gangsters as their minds were ravaged by horrific hallucinations. He felt sorry for them but couldn't intervene. After a minute or so, when all was quiet, he chanced a glance. His attacker was lying unconscious on the floor, bleeding from every orifice in his face.
"I hope you weren't too rough with them," he looks up at the camera.
"The intensity of my revenge is proportional to the severity of their transgression," Maggie's voice echoed in his skull.
"So...they'll be okay?"
"Indeed. I plant a genuine fear in their subconscious. In a few minutes, when they wake up, they will no longer be capable of such a petty attack on you. Or anyone, for that matter. "
"That's... good, I guess." Joe breathed a sigh of relief. "I don't want them to get blown out of their minds over something stupid like this."
"I know and have considered your good intentions. However, if circumstances force me to take more extreme measures, I hope you will not blame me."
"We'll talk about it later, okay?" I just wanted Jeeves to get back online so he could make me a cup of tea. "
However, as he looked at the robot, he couldn't help but notice strange wisps of smoke coming from its chest.
"Maggie, I think you broke Jeeves," he said, pointing to it.
"Ah. Ouch."
The girl didn't consider the side effects of her "serious mode" on electronics, though that was mostly because she had more pressing things to think about.
“It’s a small thing to fix Jeeves,” she quickly adds. "However, this incident highlights an issue that was not brought to my attention until now. It is imperative that I address this issue as soon as possible."
"What's the problem?" Joe raised his eyebrows.
"I may have failed to fulfill an obligation."
The man was confused by the revelation because he was completely fine. Well, aside from a mild headache and a tingling in my shoulder that quickly went away, these minor discomforts were certainly nothing to fuss over. He then realized that she was probably referring to the extremely long contract with the government, but there were so many contracts that he had no hope of figuring out which one she was referring to. So, he asked.
"what have you done?"
"I accidentally founded a cult."
