It seems the human doesn’t like his music choice.
Tam lowers his hands, looking apologetic. The dulcet tones of Octopus Death Frenzy cut out abruptly. “I’m sorry. As I explained, that was an experimental program, one that is not used in the field, only in non-emergency situations for learning purposes. But your reaction to my mistake has given me valuable data, thank you!”
His gaze swivels briefly to the other human that just spoke, noting the Providence pin. It means nothing to Tam, because he has not been programmed to have an opinion about it.
He does, however, send a quick message the barista android, once more ordering another coffee. This human is somewhat clumsy. He should probably watch where he’s going.
“My partner is twenty feet away drinking his morning coffee,” Tam answers helpfully. Just like his lack of programming to determine an opinion on Providence, he hasn’t been programmed with a keen sense of self-preservation, either, or any concept of bodily autonomy. So even as the human’s hand clamps down on his shoulder, presumably to keep him in place, Tam just watches him placidly. “I will call him for you.”
His temple LED flickers yellow. Across the cafe, a phone buzzes.
And ten seconds later, Agent Malcolm Terry is cursing the entire twenty foot walk.
“Jesus Christ. Is it bothering you?” he asks Ezra. If a man has ever sounded Completely Done, Agent Terry has just beaten that world record. “It keeps doing that. Fucking chattiest robot I’ve ever seen.”
“This man would like to recommend a reprogramming,” Tam chirps. “Unfortunately, I failed to predict what sort of music he would find soothing.” He beams at the human. “If you could provide me data for that, I would find it very helpful!”
“Hello Agent,” Ezra said, recognizing the human from the FBI but not his name. He’d only seen the fellow in passing. But it’s a relief to see the agent speaking Ezra’s language, and it pleases him.
“It interjected when I was getting some stress relief on another clumsy bot,” Ezra gave a rueful, ‘you know how it is in the Pentagon’ smile. “It’s been a rough night and I’ve been up for 28 hours. Lt Col Castillo,” Ezra introduced himself, by now pretty much expecting (rather arrogantly) for other people to recognize the name.
But now at least that he knows the human understand Ezra’s own frustration, and that goes a long way towards Ezra being more amenable.
“It’s fine, no. I overreacted–” The barista called his name - again - and Ezra gave a wave of acknowledgement. “Your bot is very feisty though. It tries to be helpful, which can be a good thing or a bad thing in the Negotiations game.” Ezra said this to be commiserating. Ezra looked at the chipper, pale-eyed droid thoughtfully, as he asked the fellow human.
“Do you think Tam’s any good at his job?”
Tam has seen Agent Terry take on a great number of expressions. His normal facial set is mostly Grumpiness, and Resignation. Sometimes, there’s Anger. When they’re trying to negotiate in a crisis, he sees Determination, and Sympathy.
A second after Castillo introduces himself, Tam sees Awe. Hero Worship, he might say.
“Holy shit, Lieutenant Colonel Ezra Castillo,” Agent Terry enthuses, on the edge of fawning adoration. He grabs Ezra’s hand and shakes it, for (Tam notes) approximately five seconds longer than is socially appropriate. “Shit, you don’t need to apologize. Stress has gotta go somewhere, might as well be on something that can’t get hurt. Tam, this is--”
“Yes, I know,” Tam says placidly. “One of the two survivors of the SS Kardashian. I was not online when it happened, so I do not personally remember the incident. But I have read the articles.”
It seems Agent Terry is too busy to snip at him; too busy gazing at Ezra like he was looking upon a deity. Tam is wholly startled by his partner’s attitude. Luckily, he can multi-task: being surprised, and trotting over to retrieve Ezra’s third coffee.
“It’s a pain in my ass, but it usually gets the job done,” Agent Terry grouches. “Look, I’m sorry you had to put up with it. I’ll park it outside next time.”
Tam hopes not. He likes being in the coffee shop.
“If you would like to recommend a reprogramming based on my public behavior and potential flaws, please let me know, and I will submit a request,” Tam says helpfully, handing Ezra his coffee. “I endeavor to be the best that I can be!”
