IV

Jaw Progression

"Director told me that making and selling coffee are two different things," Misty carefully packed the bottles into his inventory. "I’ve got to come up with a catchy name and story."

"Any ideas?" Dorkins buzzed sleepily, testing the controls.

"Hm, not really. It must accord with the coffeehouse itself. I was in Nocturnal Café and in Steampunk Chambers with Shiny, and we both stated that the names were designed to highlight the ambient atmosphere. For instance, in Steampunk Chambers, the coffee called The Watchmaker’s Comfort was served with small holograms of clock faces on the top cream layer. And in Nocturnal..."

"Wait, wait," Dorkins hovered an inch above the table surface. “You were in town with Shiny drinking holographic coffees? Why haven’t you told me?"

"We have just a few ideas," Misty admitted sadly. "If we do find the final name for our coffee, you’ll be the first one to know, I promise."

The drone was silent for a moment, and then he said slowly:

"You should be more careful, Misty. I thought that you’d avoid drama at all costs. It’s highly possible that Shiny’s companion wouldn’t be happy about your trip to town. And most probably, he won’t be willing to listen about brand strategies. And don’t deny it – nearly all new robots are in companionships. I’ve heard that they are encouraged to do this. Less prone to burnout and more understanding toward humans."

Misty sighed.

"Yes, they’ve even developed double charging stations, so the robots can be charged simultaneously and talk to each other. I know, Dorkins, we live together, and we listen to the same auditions. But don’t you worry – Shiny doesn’t have a companion; she told me it herself. And if she is to have one, I won’t be a problem. Everyone knows that I’m her prototype, so that’s why she chooses to spend her spare time with me."

It was a nice answer that should dispel any doubts. But Dorkins wasn’t saying anything. He just kept hovering in the air, mincing air with the blades.

"I can’t believe it," he said at last. "How could you be so eloquent and dense at the same time? Let’s go to the lounge, I have enough for now."

With a graceful shift, he flew through the door. Misty collected his notes and followed him to VIP Jazz Lounge. Why was the drone so touchy? Everything was going smoothly for him. Madame Cascade even offered him a part in the newest show – he was supposed to hold rods in the air for the dance group to perform their acrobatics. Misty was thankful for her idea; she took battery spotlights from their wagon so they had more space at their disposal.

"Sink me, if it ain’t Misty, ol’ salt! C’me here and show us your loot!"

Misty smiled at this jolly greeting and took place by Captain Roger. Dorkins was already there, laying on the table in a standby mode.

The wagon was closed for regular customers so the robots could work at peace on the new menu. The VIP Jazz Lounge was one of the whimsical inventions of Director that caught on immediately, to everyone’s surprise. The idea was bizarre - the regular circus wagon painted black inside and lighted by neon fancy lamps. There were a few monsteras with light bulbs by the counters and a board with a menu written in hipster letters. Fancy coffees and real jazz music. The clients liked this place but demanded it to be trendy. Robots had to come up with new drinks and sweets twice for a single town. Once for first-time visitors to the circus, and once for regulars. Then another town and another menu. Some people visited the circus only for its coffeehouse. Robots disliked them the most. They were the most demanding customers who left negative feedback when unsatisfied.

"Director told us to wait for help. He’ll send us a musician," said Dorkins indifferently.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

"A trumpeter, to be precise."

It was a deep voice with a reverb effect. Someone must have recorded it in a basement full of heavy smoke and swinging sounds. At some place that exists only in imagination in its stereotypical glory.

"Pianist?!" Misty turned around and looked at the slim figure leaning by the contour.

It was really Pianist with his usual melancholic expression. He was hard to recognise. His jawline was reconstructed and embellished with shiny screws. When he smiled, copper teeth were revealed, set in a perfect order.

"It’s so good to see you!" Misty shot up from his seat and hurried to his friend. He shook his shiny fingers, oily in touch, but sublime as ever.

"I know, it’s crazy, hip," said Pianist. "Still looking sharp, ain’t you?"

"I thought you were done with jazzy talking," said Dorkins rather coldly.

"Humans love it and flip every time I do it," Pianist took the place by Captain Roger and stroked Dorkins gently on his frame. "Happy to see you, Dorkins, I’ve missed your sassy attitude. And I hope you’re still sailing under Jolly Roger?” He turned to Captain Roger and patted his shoulder.

"Aye, sir! Still sailing, humble seadog am I."

Pianist laughed and for one short moment everything was at its place. A group of robots sitting by the table and chitchatting through the working time.

"So you’re playing the trumpet with your cats?" asked Dorkins.

"Well, I play solo most of the time, sometimes with bands, not everyone wants to play with me," replied Pianist.

"How long are you learning the trumpet?" asked Misty and suddenly felt anxious about the answer.

Director asked Pianist to come here. It was a peace offering for Misty, he was sure of it. But since when has Pianist decided to isolate himself?

"Two years," answered Pianist. "It took some time to learn the sounds and adjust the jaw. I got stuck for a few months with a sound tuner. Can’t get the notes right. Then it turned out that I just needed to expand my memory to remember which sounds were correct and how to repeat them. No need to adjust my jaw and pipes over and over again! When I got it right, I threw the sound tuner out of the window, can’t look at it no more!"

"What’s a sound tuner?" asked Dorkins. "You should have explained it earlier, we’ve got no idea what are you’re talking about."

"Sorry, I keep forgetting myself and talking too much," sighed Pianist. "Playing trumpet is so much different than playing the piano, you must learn how to make the notes so you use a sound tuner to check if you’re doing it right."

"That little devil shows frequency, ol’ mate" explained Captain Roger and Misty hoped that Dorkins would find this answer satisfactory.

"But many musicians are against mechanical musicians, so it’s difficult for me to get a gig," Pianist shrugged his shoulders.

"But you’re playing jazz, you’ve learnt how to do it" said Misty. “You said once that you would fall to parts before you got that sweet swinging’ tune or something like that."

"It turned out that’s easier than I thought," smiled Pianist. "I just needed to change my attitude and loosen up a bit. It’s a fantastic feeling to improvise and play with humans, create something new and fancy together."

Misty wouldn’t call him more relaxed, by no means. Pianist was wistful and workaholic as ever.

"All right, landlubbers, all hands on board," Captain Roger spoke up. "We’ve got some work to do, find a name for this drinklike mixture of yours, Misty."

“Ready when you are!" Misty unpacked the bottles and poured the coffee into glasses of several shapes and colours. "It’s a cold coffee with strawberry milk. We tried with Shiny to come up with some names like Strawberry Milk Way or Coffee Breeze but it doesn’t sound fancy like Swingin’ Beauty, our bestseller."

"Who’s Shiny?" asked Pianist perplexed. "Do you have a new robot?"

"It’s Misty’s heiress," whispered Dorkins to Pianist. "And a great fan of his work. Making coffees and shuffling cards together."

"Oh, I see," smirked Pianist and for a moment Misty felt an urge to pour the strawberry coffee all over his adjusted face.

"These names doesn’t sound jazzy or snooty," yawned Captain Roger. “Better cook something up before I'll make you walk the plank!"

"It’s the only cold coffee in the menu, right?" Pianist checked the menu. "What about Dissonance? It’s a note that sounds false, an interval that..."

"Stop that, if you don’t want to feed the fish!" Captain Roger pounded his gripper on the table. "It’s enough for me to have these swinging coffees on the menu and serve them every damned day!"

"All right, but jazz folk like dissonances," said Pianist slowly.

"That’s settled then!" Misty snapped his fingers. "Let’s choose a glass and send Director a picture to approve!"

Pianist looked at him as if something was wrong. What was it? Should they all have waited to hear what dissonance is? Did he feel dismissed?

"Misty, I had no idea that you know how to snap your fingers," said Pianist after a while. "I’ve tried to learn it in vain. Please teach me, be a pal!"

"I’m sorry, cat," Misty sighed deeply taking revenge. "Your fingers are too oily for that."