Rijnswand sipped his tea.
“Do you realize this is very hot? It might even prove to be explosive!”
“Oh Dear,” Eeod replied, “I told COSbot so to use Darjeeling. I think I have to look at his audioreceptors again.”
‘No goofball! Not the tea, the pictures of the Phillip Ross shooting. Who knows about these?”
COSbot entered the room holding a large plate with pie.
“I haven’t told anyone yet. You are the first to know.”
“Would you like to have some pie, Mr. deWitt?” COSbot asked.
“Why didn’t you inform the authorities?”
“Well, at that particular point in time R.U.R. had a little trouble with Omni-Pol concerning the aftermath of the Wailing Wastes Pollution.
“Would you like to have some PIE, Mr. deWitt?” COSbot asked again.
“How come?”
“We were fined a considerable amount of money. At that moment I was definitely not in the mood to hand over these pictures. Besides, nobody knew, and nobody asked.”
“Ah. And what exactly where you doing at a political rally?”
“Would you LIKE to have some PIE, Mr. DEWITT”
Eeod’s pale skin turned a little less pale.
“We were in leet-form. I thought we were going on an “Ankles of Rome” tour. How would I know we were going to witness an assassination?”
Rijnswand considered hot to respond to that last remark, but instead just stared at Eeod.
“WOULD. YOU. LIKE. TO. HAVE. SOME. PIE. MR. DEWITT!” A bolt sprung from COSbot’s neck.
Rijnswand took a glance at COSbot and then turned to Eeod again. “What’s wrong with the bot?”
“I think he turned to responding-to-deafness-mode.”
“Are you ever going to finish him?”
“I think there’s always room for improvement. Last week for example I installed lace-making software.”
“How useful. Now. Finish your tea, we have to contact Omni-Pol right away.”
As Eeod and Rijnswand left the apartment, COSbot picked up the loose bolt, dumped the pie in a bin and turned to his lace-work. “ I hope they shove those pictures in his baroreceptor.” He mumbled.
