Adelaide grimaced. Ten years of hard work in the form of a minuscule robotic flea bounced across her laboratory bench, eluding her surgical forceps.

 

“I don’t have time for this,” she seethed, making another grab.

The flea ground its mechanics, rotated ninety degrees and barrel-rolled out of reach. Damned thing needs a whole new gyroscope.

 

She squinted in the harsh light, following its jerky progress. Inch by careful inch, she slid off her stool and... pounced, snagging its wing against the sink.

“Thank goodness.”

 

“Thank goodness for what?”

Eddie, the project leader of HeadHOPA, leaned against her bench. She’d never had a boss as casual as him. Her heart blipped, her hand slipped, and the bloody flea zipped straight to the ceiling.

 

“Nothing, it’s nothing.”

She slid the forceps into her pocket, never taking her eyes off the black dot buzzing next to the air-conditioner. Please don’t let it go inside.

 

“Doesn’t seem like nothing.”

Eddie watched her. She watched the flea.

 

“Small programming glitch.”

She suppressed the flash of pain as the point of the forceps dug into her palm. The flea slowed, maybe losing battery? That would be on par with the luck she’d been having lately. She tried to position herself underneath it.

 

“We might have to bring the demonstration forward. The project backers shifted to an earlier flight.” Eddie trailed her. “It looks like tomorrow. Ten o’clock.”

 

She tuned him out, focussing on the flea as it fell, not to the floor, but into Eddie’s ear. This is not happening. No, no, no. Adelaide dashed for her bench. Where had she left the remote control? Maybe she could turn off the transmitter.

 

The monitors, occupying one whole wall of the lab, blinked on. So, the flea wasn’t out of battery after all.

 

“What are you doing? I don’t need to see the presentation.” Eddie gestured to the screens. “I trust you.”

 

Static filled the room. Adelaide banged drawers and upended her satchel. Where was the remote? This. Is. Not. Happening.

 

Colourful waves burst onto the screens, peaks and troughs pulsing in time to a thudding heartbeat. Words scrolled as a robotic loudspeaker spewed out Eddie’s innermost thoughts in an almost-natural AI voice.

 

Why doesn’t she trust me? I tried giving her space, but she retreated further. What am I doing wrong? I want to help. The lab is so much more ‘me’ than all those ridiculous meetings. I like it here and I like her, dammit, and I just wish she’d stop pushing me away and what the hell? What is that echo? Did she fly the HeadHOPA into me?

 

“The gyroscope malfunctioned.” Adelaide winced. “It fell into your ear.”

 

Eddie instinctively shook his head, but that was enough to pull Adelaide out of her funk.

 

“Stop, you’ll force it in.” She laid a hand on his arm and brandished her forceps.

 

Calm down. Why does she smell so good? I wonder if she’d like lunch? Or a drink?

 

“Ha!” Triumphant, Adelaide held the HeadHOPA flea aloft. She sealed it in a petri dish and the screens blackened. “Sorry.”

 

Eddie flushed. “No, I’m sorry. And embarrassed, and… I lied about the demonstration moving. I just wanted an excuse to visit.”

 

Adelaide smiled as her own heartbeat finally settled. “Maybe we could brainstorm gyroscope issues over burgers?”

 

Eddie’s lips twitched. “You read my mind.”