XR-3000 stared at the trash can.
“System test completed,” he murmured. “Impulse suppressed.”
Ben breathed a sigh of relief. “Very good.”
The robot turned back to the desk. “We continue.”
Ben wrote the next task.
“7/8 minus 3/8,” XR-3000 read aloud. “What do you think?”
Ben thought.
For a very long time.
A very, very long time.
XR-3000 blinked green. He waited.
And waited.
And kept waiting.
“You can say something,” Ben said.
“Patience activated,” XR-3000 answered calmly. “I must not intervene.”
“A little help is allowed!”
“Definition of ‘little’ unclear.”
Ben sighed. “Four eighths?”
XR-3000 blinked. “Correct.”
He said it so quietly that Ben barely heard it.
“You can speak normally.”
“Normal is relative.”
Suddenly XR-3000 began to speak extremely slowly:
“You… are… doing… very… well…”
Ben stared at him. “Why do you speak like a snail?”
“Patience module overcompensating.”
XR-3000 now also moved very slowly.
He raised his arm.
Millimeter by millimeter.
“This is taking forever!” Ben shouted.
“Time is relative.”
Ben jumped up. “Okay, I think you are too patient.”
XR-3000 nodded in slow motion.
Then suddenly a quiet noise came from inside him.
A small “plop.”
From his back compartment fell… a tiny piece of paper.
Ben blinked.
“Did you…?”
XR-3000 stopped.
“Suppressed impulse possibly not completely erased.”
His eyes flickered orange briefly.
Very briefly.
“Paper… still smells… interesting.”