Commissioner meetings take place in a room that used to be a library storage annex. They kept the chairs, which were designed for ergonomics in the way that medieval racks were designed for flexibility.
Four commissioners sat behind the long desk:
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Ingersoll, who speaks only in budget percentages
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Ayala, who looks constantly on the verge of resignation
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Pritchard, who believes he invented recycling
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Mendoza, who has never met a microphone he didn’t love
And of course
Sheriff McCready, angled slightly to the left to face the county’s single mounted camera.
Rusty was also present.
Why?
Because Pritchard believed “having the unit here will foster transparency.”
The Hopper sat on the linoleum, ears forward, bucket slightly open, as if ready to testify.
Ingersoll began.
“Mr. Anxo. We’ve received reports of… unusual behaviors in Unit BT4-12.”
“That would be Rusty,” Pritchard added, smiling proudly like a man introducing a show dog.
“It climbed a Ferris wheel,” Ayala said.
“It altered its vertical position unexpectedly,” Sheriff McCready corrected.
Ayala stared at him. “Sheriff, it fell.”
McCready stiffened. “I would never use unverified terminology in a public forum.”
Mendoza leaned forward. “Howard, the public loves these things. The hashtag #DumpsterBunnies is already trending. We’d like more… positive engagement.”
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“Meaning?”
“Encourage them. Make them friendlier.”
I gestured at Rusty. “They don’t do friendly. They do hydraulic motion within approved tolerance.”
Rusty chirped.
Jake’s head snapped toward it.
“See? Friendly.”
“That’s a fan bearing,” I said.
“That was a greeting,” Jake whispered.
Mendoza steepled his fingers. “Howard, the community is bonding with these units. If people think they’re helpful and cute, maybe we can justify expanding the pilot program.”
Ingersoll nodded sharply. “We could qualify for federal grant match if public perception crosses forty percent.”
Ayala sighed. “Do we really want more? We barely understand the ones we have.”
Pritchard beamed. “Innovation is scary!”
Rusty rotated its bucket toward him.
McCready raised a hand.
“If I may provide a law enforcement perspective—”
Nobody stopped him.
Nobody ever stopped him.
“Yesterday’s autonomous deviation,” he said gravely, “was resolved thanks to swift and coordinated action by my office.”
I opened my mouth.
He spoke louder.
“And by Mr. Anxo, of course.”
This was the sheriff version of sharing credit: a legal requirement.
Ayala tapped her pen. “Look, we just need a statement for the paper. Something reassuring. Something that says everything is fine.”
“Everything is fine,” Pritchard said helpfully.
Rusty drove its left tread slightly, bumping into Ayala’s chair.
Ayala yelped. “Why did it do that?!”
Jake whispered, “It’s seeking validation.”
“It is misaligned,” I said.
“As in, the tread is physically misaligned. It drifts under uneven torque.”
McCready cleared his throat.
“I propose the following phrasing:
‘The incident involved a brief, non-hazardous autonomous repositioning event.’”
Mendoza snapped his fingers.
“Perfect.”
Ayala stared flatly.
“That is nonsense.”
“Nonsense that makes people calm,” Mendoza said.
“Howard,” Pritchard said, “can you train Rusty to do a little wave?”
“No.”
Jake: “Maybe.”
Me: “No.”
Rusty lifted its bucket slightly.
Commissioners gasped.
Jake grinned. “Buddy, no. Don’t encourage them.”
McCready folded his arms. “As long as these units remain under control, I have no objection to civic engagement.”
Rusty rotated toward him and booped his boot.
The entire room froze.
McCready stared down at the robot.
Rusty booped him again.
Jake whispered reverently:
“It has chosen him.”
McCready cleared his throat.
“That was… an unexpected… contact event.”
“You got booped,” Ayala said.
“I did not get booped. I was the recipient of a proximity-based tactile acknowledgment.”
Jake wiped a tear. “Sheriff… you got booped.”
I put my head in my hands.
Mendoza clapped once.
“Excellent! Meeting adjourned. Howard, please write up a public statement by five. Make it positive.”
“And accurate,” Ayala added.
“Mostly positive,” Mendoza corrected.
Rusty chirped.
Jake chirped back.
And that was somehow the least weird thing that happened all day.