TITLE: Voices Under Chaos
E-MAIL: eli @ popullus.net
RATING: PG
POSTED: Feb. 8, 2006
SUMMARY: Masters of no one's fate.
NOTES: Post 2.05 (the one with the "exercize"). For Jess, who requested Tom and Malcolm.
DISCLAIMER: Read

---

They don't talk about it after. The others do, but not those who'd been there. An unsigned pact. They recount, they rehash, they examine and they move on. They don't stop what they're supposed to be doing, look in each others' eyes, and chat. Their voices are flat, as they should be. No raised tempers now.

Colin's been given the task of righting the wires and Malcolm doesn't envy him that. Malcolm is to retreat to a corner, retrieve the systems and power sources that he can from their communications miracle, and reintroduce them to their rightful owners: all those mobiles and laptops spread out mid-surgery on the long table in back. The motherboard is likely a dead loss, he knows; too many elements soldered to it now.

The robot sits there amid the detritus of chaos like a dog, waiting for him, antennas perked. It's a good job, even if it was never to step -- roll -- out into the greater world. It would have done its job. That makes it somehow harder to look at it with destruction on the mind.

With a sigh that is only part sentiment, Malcolm raises his tools.

"You did it."

Malcolm looks up at Tom, his hands still poised. "We needed to communicate," he says, and then lifts his eyebrows. "Communication was key."

Tom's smile is hardly there and its amusement is clearly a bitter taste. "You came through wonderfully, every time."

Malcolm doesn't respond aloud, but he tightens his lips in acknowledgement and nods. Tom pulls in a deep breath, straightening his shoulders as he does. And then, as Malcolm is about lower his head once more to put tool to metal, Tom speaks again.

"Did you test it?"

Malcolm's eyes widen and he lets out a short laugh. "How? And since then..." He waves the screwdriver in his right hand toward the cleanup still underway. "Restoring order is the goal of the day, per usual."

"Yeah," Tom says. His eyes drop away from Malcolm's to the robot. "Still...it looks solid."

"It is." Malcolm knows there is pride in his voice and doesn't check it.

"Worth a run, then?"

Malcolm's mouth falls slightly open as he stares up at Tom's bland gaze. "A short one at least, yes," he says cautiously.

There's a thoughtful pause, and then Tom nods. "All right. Make an inventory of what needs to be replaced."

That stay of execution settles quite comfortably in Malcolm's mind. Tom looks around the grid, a sweeping glance at all of the unusual commotion, before returning to the robot.

"Let me know when you're going to test," he says with a genuine smile this time. "I want to see it in action."

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