Thoos has moolah. Thoos has ALL da’ bots.
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Lounging about on the bridge of Thoos’ ship, Picknar said, “It’s nice to be in control of our destiny again. Well, shall we get the search underway?” Thoos said, “Yeah, use the terminal-bot to link into your necklace tracker.” Terminal-bot said, “Don’t say ‘terminal,’ it sounds like inevitable death.” Thoos smiled and said to Picknar, “Did I mention? Terminal-bot is funny too.” Terminal-bot turned away and said, “why do I bother trying with you.” Thoos broke out into laughter. Picknar started entering the info into the terminal-bot’s keyboard-screen head and said, “Let’s see… I.D. password… and i’m in. Oh. Um. They’re approaching your solar system. Probably going to Earth to look for us.” Annoyed, Knox said, “So, escaping Earth was for nothing. Ah well. At least it’ll be nice to go home.” Rodrigo grinned and said, “You wistful homebody. I love you for that,” and then leaned over and rested his head on Knox’s thigh. Smiling sweetly, Knox said, “I love you too.” Rodrigo said, “And I’ll make sure to send you a postcard from every spaceport I stop at.”
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Oh Oh. Shall I stay or shall I go? If I stay there will be trouble hmmmda da dum.
We might not have a Post Office by the time that first postcard arrives. Might have to find it in any convenient crop circle — or recent meteoroid impact site. Certainty is leaving this civilization.
By the bot’s logic, a bus terminal is where public transit goes to die.
This is going to end with all four of them deciding to keep their new bodies, isn’t it?
If Picknar is able to track their tracker, then others can. Maybe the escape from the lab was too easy, and Val is expected to lead the followers somewhere, or to someone.
It’s interminally funny.
I am calling Terminal Bot: IBM-3278