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Backstage

The hats were equal in size, but different in color. The design was consistent: the gears on the black hat were silver and black on the silver one. Which one will be honored to appear on the stage tonight? Which one will oversee the final show?

“Nice touch,” said Misty, pointing at the silver stitch around the gears.

It wasn’t big enough to be seen by the audience, but Misty liked details. He liked the thought that the hatmaker changed the color of the threads to frame the gears.

Director said nothing. He sat arms-crossed and glared at him without blinking. Misty had no idea why he summoned him before the final performance. There were so many things to do now. And they were just sitting idly by.

“Have you prepared the draft for the board?” he asked at last.

“Of course.”

Misty proceeded to summarize his conclusions made hurriedly in the morning. It was an unusual task, ordered as soon as he got back from Modern New World. What was the purpose of this request? Just a pretence to dismiss him? It would be reckless now, stupid even – a few hours before the final show.

“Firstly, I’ve counted all wagons in which wheelchair ramps could be installed,” Misty began to read his notes. "Some door frames are too narrow so it would be impossible. Our current sliding ramps are difficult to operate and many are faulty. They require cooperation from the staff members and that makes the process troublesome. We can get extra money from funds for people with disabilities. We got many complaints that our wagons are inaccessible. It would also help parents with strollers or facilitate the work of robots with limited mobility.”

Director grinned, but said nothing. Misty continued his monologue, describing noticed problems, possible solutions and variable outcome.

“Secondly, we can print seasonal decorations out. Then get it remolded and use again. Any after-leased 3D printer would do. For example, Halloween pumpkins can be easily reshaped into snowballs for Christmas decorations. It would save Skinny a lot of time and we get an extra storage place. We can also involve children in the process and get funds from ReSources.”

“Cross the ReSources out, they can be mentioned later,” marked Director. “Rewrite these suggestions, Misty. Try to use different words. Modernization, closed-loop resources chain, co-funding, positive public perception, long-term savings. These are key words that vice-director should use. And don’t you ever mention buying used things. The board may feel offended to remember how poor we are.”

“Yes, sir,” Misty decided to ignore this absurd title.

Sometimes, he preferred to be malicious than honest. He doesn’t know why, maybe he was just annoyed with people and their illogical reasoning. But now all he wanted was to leave Director’s office and see the final show, watch his friends perform. He wanted to see a mechanical parrot that was trained by Captain Roger. It was his prize, a bonus after successful treasure hunt that went viral among teenagers. But of course, Director wouldn’t miss the final show either, especially as a ringmaster.

“You have no questions for me, Misty?” asked Director with disappointment.

“I assume that I’ve been promoted because of the insurance?” Misty wasn’t sure how to express his thoughts more politely.

He was convinced that something was wrong in his papers, maybe even illegal. Everything would be different if he had no accident. He wouldn’t have a job, but he would have his hand.

“No, Misty, it wasn’t done for insurance reasons,” answered Director. “The board allowed you to perform on this position, but temporarily. You have to prove yourself, present your ideas how to develop our circus. And your points are valid. Simple, but easy to do. Just use a proper terminology and it would be all right. And don’t be too smart, it makes people uneasy.”

It was a clumsy way to avoid the answer. But if Director wanted to focus on a presentation, well, Misty would speak his mind.

“In this case, I assess that it would be better if I speak more natural, sir,” replied Misty. “It would show my honesty.”

“It’s not about honesty,” Director drank a sip of coffee from his ThermoCup. "It’s about perspective. For example, if you mention Skinny and a solution to save her time, it sounds as if you are focused only on our staff wellbeing. But if you say that we can produce better decorations because we have more time for preparation, it means that you want to improve our circus and its impact.”

Misty was silent for a moment. Was it manipulation or honesty? Was it the core of his conflict with Director? The perspective?

“I wanted to fire you, because you were only focused on your work and I felt uneasy in your presence,” said Director slowly. “But then I saw your potential, your ability to change. You learned how to make coffee, tried to record a promotional video and became a famous mechanical gamer. I cannot dismiss any of it. I’m sorry because of your hand and I promise that I would do anything to help you to have it reconstructed. So if you want to work with me, no, if you would like to work for the Circus, you can stay and have more to say than before.”

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That was it. A glimpse of honesty. Misty knew that he isn’t in the best position to negotiate now. He may have some potential, but he was still a robot leased on terms established with Modern New World, and he was a damaged one.

“I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” he squinted a bit his eyes.

“There should be a choice if you want to establish a beneficial connection,” Director shrugged his arms. “You care too much about the staff, I care too little. I care too much about the Circus, you don’t think in this scale. That’s a perfect balance, don’t you think? We’ll have to argue about everything, doesn’t it sound exciting?”

He smiled genuinely and sipped another drink of his coffee. What a strange man. Misty noticed signs of nervousness in his behavior. The hands began to shake a little and there was sweat on a forehead. It was a time to end this conversation and prepare for the stage.

“I accept your offer, sir,” said Misty politely. "Thank you for the promotion.”

"One hat is for you,” Director gestured toward the hats. “I want to go on the stage with you, like in good old days. Choose one. It’s an honest choice this time.”

Misty nodded and looked at the hats again. It was always hard for him to choose, analyzing all variables. But he associated black color with Director so choosing a black hat seemed like a challenge, an aspiration to be someone better.

“And put your arm in a arm sling, I’ve got one sewn for you.”

It took them a while to get ready for a stage. The tuxedo prepared for Misty turned out to be too short so he just put on his old red vest. It looked really vintage now. He should really speak with Skinny and ask her for something new, something bright and recognizable.

So they walked out the door one after another, Director leading the way. Was it the sign of the new fortune?

“Piña colada!” shouted a screeching voice, somewhere above Misty’s head.

And there was a parrot. A mechanical parrot with shiny feathers of sharp edges. She flew in circles with a hum. It seemed that she needed an engine to fly. The wings were moving properly, but the move wasn’t natural and graceful as the real one.

“Accolades, you stupid bird!” Captain Roger covered his face with the gripper. “Don’t mind her, matey. That parrot gives no quarter.”

“Save some bickering for the stage,” murmured Dorkins.

Misty was glad to see them all gathered in celebration. Of course, they knew in advance of Director’s proposal and they guessed the outcome. Shiny was holding Dorkins in her stretched arms; it would be too dangerous for the drone to fly in narrow passages of backstage labyrinth.

“Good luck!” said Shiny and Misty felt relief to see her smile.

He was worried that something changed after their last conversation. Something irreversible happened. Maybe she was programmed to ignore someone who doesn’t reciprocate her feelings? Misty had no idea how emotions work. Dr Jannoby was probably right. Emotions were messy and illogical.

“Pianist was here, but now he is busy with autographs,” added Dorkins with malicious satisfaction.

“This one’s for ye,” Captain Roger handed Misty a newspaper.

It was a new issue of Day-to-Day with Pianist’s face on the cover. He was holding a trumpet in his left hand, the right hand was raised to the viewer. Helping my twin brother, said the headline. The mechanical artist stops the promotion of his new album Hard Way to help his friend in need, explained the tinier note below.

Director raised his eyebrows a little, but said nothing. His disapproval was obvious. It wasn’t his style, he preferred articles discussed beforehand with all parties involved. He held a grudge against the press and handled it with the utmost caution.

“It’s fine,” replied Misty. “If he had to cancel his tournée, it’s a good thing that he can promote it in another way. And I don’t mind, as long as I’m not on the front cover.”

It would be a disaster to see himself posed in some stupid human way. Of course, Misty knew how to perform as a robot working in a circus. It made him dizzy to remember his gestures, way of walking, direction of lights and responding to the audience. He preferred the enclosed space of his wagon where he can focus.

But now, it wasn’t possible to hide. Not in this position, not in this hat. Misty followed Director to check if everything was running smoothly. Are all performers ready? In their costumes and make up? Are all lasers programmed? Skinny was bossing around, happy to revenge herself for last weeks of hard work. Her diodes were twinkling, she was in her element, important and annoying as ever.

Misty was thankful when Director finally patted him on the arm, hushing him to the light. He embraced him in staged manner. It was a very gentle touch, as if he was handling with a human. The intention was clear – he deemed it necessary to hide Misty’s arm sling. It would be too distracting for the first impression and Director knew well how to perform. If they walk on stage together, arm by arm, the message was clear and in accord with the Circus’ message: a human and a robot working together to entertain. Misty walking alone in his old vest and arm hanging in the sling? Well, it wasn’t a good start. So Director was leading Misty towards the stage and there was something familiar feeling accompanying them on every step. Like a return to the past when a small boy in oversize tuxedos was led by a tall robot to stand on stage by his father.

Applause. Misty squinted his eyes and saw Lady Violet in the first row, clapping her hands frantically. There was a man with a mustache beside her. A new one. So Lady Violet changed her partner quickly to save some time. It was a nice and clean change of events. After all, human should enjoy their quick lifetime.

Director released Misty’s arms and spoken to the audience with his voice enhanced by the reverb effect.

“Ladies and gentlemen! May I introduce you to our new director – Misty – the first and the only one mechanical fortune-teller!”

Applause again. Misty saw a clapping wings on the peripheral vision, but he didn’t turn his head. He knew well that he had to maintain his posture. Every unnecessary gesture, every break of intended symmetry, interfered with the point of focus. The audience had to know what was the most important point on the stage. Director pointed at Misty giving him the spotlight. Now was the time to perform.

But perform as who? As a director? Vice-director? A retired mechanical fortune-teller or maybe a victim of a famous accident? Misty knew one thing for certain. He was a robot, so he should act like one. Don’t be too clever, don’t be too advanced. After all, Captain Roger, his dearest friend, chose a mechanical parrot with cheap mechanics for a reason.

So Misty took his hat off and bowed with a courteous smile. He bent joint after joint in a slow motion. Not his everyday moves – the grace and flexibility was reserved tonight for acrobats. He was a good friend, he had no intend to steal the show. At least, not tonight.