497 The Flood, Ch. 12
Chapter Twelve
The t-suit in the Sonia Red lab wasn't connected, so I called back out into the hallway.
"Can you connect this tension suit for me?" I asked no one.
The bot poked it's head into the hall again. "Was that a question for me?"
"Now," I said.
Being rude isn't really my thing, but neither is wasting energy on politeness that doesn't matter. If I wanted, I could cuss like a sailor all day long, and these bots would still do exactly what I asked.
So why was this one taking so long?
"Come on, what are you, broken?" I asked.
"Sorry, sir," the bot responded, "I am unable to fill your request. Can I call IT for you?"
"Go fuck yourself," was my response, "I'll do it myself."
---
Dozer sat there whining the whole time I was fiddling with the contraption, which only made me more pissed off. But Dozer is an abuse survivor, I had to keep my emotions in check, or else he'd have a set back, and I'd spend a couple months trying to coax him out of his protective shell again.
Meanwhile, Princess was going around the office, sniffing up a couple decades of memories.
Most of them were harmless, just memos and staff meetings, the lab tech's memories of me as CEO.
But then she started sniffing around the suit.
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