Chapter Text
Professor Cornelia Spot arrived at Walter Manor exactly on time. She prided herself on punctuality.
And seeing as how it was just her, there really was no excuse to be late. She didn’t expect the Walter household to run at the same efficient level as that to which she was accustomed. Not only was Walter himself known for being chronically late, but his children and automatons no doubt aggravated the problem. They were known throughout the local scientific community to be an unruly bunch, more like six youths than two youths and four robots.
But Professor Spot had not arrived to play nanny. She had come to work.
She was rather excited to do so, in fact. Walter, though unstable in many ways, had a brilliant, inventive intellect. What was more, he was one of the few members of the Cavalcadium who had, in her 30 year sojourn among them, put any stock in the idea of Kazooland. It was very important to her that she work with someone who believed… seeing as how she was trying to get back.
It had taken her nearly 100 years to find the passage that would bring her to Earth, a span of time spent, much as her time here had been, trying to persuade others that the place she sought existed. In the end, she had found the way alone and traveled alone. No doubt her family wondered where she had gone. Whether they missed her, however… well, the feeling was mutual.
She looked up at the structure approvingly as the taxi man unloaded her things. She tipped him generously… she had found that Earth money had its uses, but she had no love of it as men had… and looked up to see Colonel Walter striding toward her.
“Professor! Punctual as ever. Oh, your things. I’ll call the boys out to help…”
“I’m sure we can cope. I’m stronger than I look,” she said precisely, picking up the largest case with ease.
Walter looked at her with wide eyes. The pile of cases was formidable. “Very well,” he said graciously. “If you’re able to lift that one, I believe I can get the others…”
He lifted a medium-sized satchel with a grunt. “This must have all the heavy things, then…” he groaned with a rather strained smile as he added another case and began to stagger toward the house. “I’ll be right back.”
She sighed, gathered the rest of the luggage, and strolled after.
“Two, come help!” called The Colonel as he entered the Manor ahead of her. “Three? Boys?”
There was no response. Professor Spot set her cases down gently as he eased his to the floor with trembling arms.
“Spine?” he called rather weakly.
This time there was a thump of footsteps. “Yes, sir?” asked a tall silver automaton, peering around the stair landing. She looked on with wide eyes. He was dressed in a men’s shirt, tie, and trousers. “Oh!”
“Thank goodness,” sighed Walter. “Spine, if you would be so kind…”
The robot looked around hastily, then hurried, heavily but not clumsily, down the stairs toward them and gathered the cases. Professor Spot looked up at him in wonder. She had always been petite, even before she had come here, and felt truly dwarfed by this giant.
“Thank you, Spine. Put them into the first guest bedroom, please. It’s been prepared.”
“Yes, sir,” The Spine said respectfully, nodding to the Professor before hurrying up the stairs.
“He’s a marvel, Colonel,” she commented in awe. “Practically human.”
“Therein lays his one real weakness,” said Walter sadly. “He doesn’t speak of it, but he wants nothing more than to be just that.”
“He wants to be human?” That explained the smart gentleman’s attire. “What a pity, when he is so much more!”
“Well, I agree. I love my sons just as they are.”
She gaped slightly. He smiled at her expression. “Ah… there’s the look. I always get that look when I refer to them as sons.”
“You can hardly blame me, Colonel,” she said, coloring slightly.
“Ordinarily. But as you are staying in Walter Manor, if you find their status as family members too much to tolerate…”
“Not at all,” she said hastily. “They are your creations, sir. If you wish to treat them like children, it is wholly your prerogative.”
“I… uh… Thank you? Well, you must be tired. When The Spine returns, I can ask him to guide you to your room.”
“Not to worry.” She was eager to present her data and hear his view. “I’ve been sitting all the way from Los Angeles.”
“Oh…” he said, rubbing his neck restlessly. “Well, I’m not quite ready to begin work, I’m afraid. I really had counted upon your needing the morning to settle in.”
“When will you be ready?” she asked, her voice pleasant to mask her growing frustration.
“Oh, mid-afternoon, I think. Um… Two o’clock,” he added uneasily.
“Very well,” she said with a sigh. “Where can I work until then?”
“The library has a desk, as does your room…”
“The library… Do you know, I have a passion for books? If I could pass the time in your library, it would be edifying.”
“Well, prepared to be edified, then,” he responded charmingly, extending his elbow. She placed one tiny hand reluctantly in the crook of his arm and suffered herself to be led to the library.
Once there, the Colonel took his leave and she turned eagerly to the rows of shelves. The Walter family had been scientists for generations. What wonders must be kept here!
She was just reaching for an intriguingly titled book about African wildlife when the library doors slid abruptly wide and a voice crowed, “Ollie Ollie oxen free!”
She jumped, and then jumped a second time as a small brass automaton burst from the stacks behind her, crying, “Who’s it?”
“You are!”
“What?”
“I found everyone else. The Spine was just walkin’ around! Come on…”
They seemed to have noticed her at last. The littler one blinked large blue eyes and smiled winsomely.
“Hello!” he cried, and before she knew it he had stepped forward and put his arms around her as though embracing an old friend.
“Um…” She was at a loss. Fortunately, the other, a tall copper robot, said, “Drop her, dummins. She’s scared.”
The little robot let go abruptly.
“I’m not scared,” she said, straightening her smart tweed jacket. “But you have the advantage of me.”
“I do? I didn’t mean to… You can have it back.”
“She means she don’t know who you are, stupid. Hiya, lady. My name is Rabbit. This dumb doorknob is The Jon. Pappy said you’d be coming but he didn’t say when.”
“Oh… well, it’s a pleasure to meet you… I’m Professor Cornelia Spot…”
The taller automaton stepped forward into the brighter light of the long windows and shook her offered hand. She could hear the soft ticking of his clockwork and the murmur of bubbling water in his boiler as she looked up at him. Walter had made this one, like the silver one, quite tall.
As the slanting sunbeams lit the copper automaton’s face, Cornelia’s eyes widened slightly. He was so ornate, so finely crafted. Verdigris patina curled through each delicately etched shape of his faceplates. Little curls of steam coiled from his cheek vents as he grinned down at her and she felt a strange flutter.
“Can I call ya Corny?” he asked with a mischievously lopsided smile.
Flutter. No one had ever tried to give her a pet name before... even a stupid one. “Um… not… no, I’d rather you didn’t.”
Rabbit laughed, and she smiled back queasily.
“Well, I don’t really blame ya! Whaddya wanna be called, then?”
“I… Professor Spot, of course.”
He snorted.
“What’s wrong with Professor Spot?” she asked, frowning.
“Well,” he giggled. “It’s just… is that really your name?”
“Yes!”
“But you have an accent…”
“Well, I come from Germany…”
“Do ya?”
She raised an eyebrow.
He held his hands up defensively. She noted their fine, delicate lines and swallowed hard as he added, “I’m just saying you…”
“Yes, I know.” She sighed. “Well, my name in German would be Stelle.”
“Shtellah?” asked The Jon.
She spelled it for them.
“Oh, Stella!” cried Rabbit. “Say… that’s real pretty! Can I call ya Stella?”
She was taken aback. He already had her at a loss. She was seldom at a loss. She didn’t think she liked it.
“I… suppose…”
“Great,” he drawled, smiling. “Well, I got a hot game of hide and seek goin’, so I’ll see ya around,” he said, turning away. He stopped. “You are gonna be around, ain’t ya?” he asked over his shoulder.
“Yes, I’ve come to work with the Colonel.”
“Aw, Pappy! Good, I’ll see ya at dinner!”
“Bye, Stella!” beamed The Jon as they jogged out.
“Cornelia…” she murmured. She’d always thought it was a pretty name… of course, she’d taken it thirty years ago when she’d arrived… perhaps it was time for something more modern.
She turned back to her book, pondering what a robot would do at dinner.