BeuqBoxz

Now that even asphalt has proven that, just like cobblestones, it has nothing to do with interference, an underground car park below ground level receives Slae’s grey XJ with Rinse as passenger. The question is how an abandoned factory can be made habitable.

SlaeSay that you don’t do odd jobs. World leaders can do that too. World leaders say they are world leaders. Believe it yourself and it will be credible. Only a few can do that, sir.

Before getting out Rinse has a certain answer ready.

RinseNot with me, Slae. Don’t do this to me. No tricks.

After getting out the sound of the other door clicking into the lock also echoes for a long time. The great distance from wall to wall is to blame for that. Concrete that has been mixed as promised helps hard. Here there are no emergency measures between the pillars.

SlaeDommage. The role of assistant seemed so much fun to me.

No reaction. Rinse lets his slippers slip alternately and thus tests the floor. It is sufficiently non-slip. The top layer must be a kind of coating or epoxy.

SlaeAre you all right?

Rinse nods. Rinse multiplies the width of the colour fields by the number of colour fields and thus makes an estimate of the total distance from wall to wall. It is sufficiently long. It is also decided around which pillar what kind of bend should come. It is successively sufficiently sharp and sufficiently gentle. Added to that is that the lighting is well arranged.

RinseCircus Maximus.

Slae, who is good at making connections, quickly grasps what Rinse is talking about. Slae sees, just like Rinse, a circuit in the underground car park below ground level.

SlaeBread and circuses.

There is clearly a hint of pleasure in Rinse, who has sometimes been understood worse.

SlaeEvery human must eat, sir. First things first. May I go ahead of you?

Slae goes ahead and Rinse follows. There is a lift. As a kind of watchful eye there is also a small camera. Call it a facial recognition system.

SlaeParticipation society.

RinseWhat?

SlaeSpeech recognition.

The lift door opens obediently. It goes one floor higher. There is the reception or entrance hall. No people. A human-like robot that does hospitality and moreover something with security welcomes Slae. Slae asks Rinse if he would like to lean forward a little. Rinse of course does so. A second instruction follows.

RinsePar-ti-ci-pa-tion-so-cie-ty.

Adapted to life close to and in the service of humans, the equally smart as multifunctional robot now also accepts our Rinse as good people. Graediva has often jokingly called the equally smart as multifunctional robot Qutje, precisely because, according to her, a lot fits into it.

Julius always simply kicks the device aside when it gets in the way, but that does not bring this story any closer to my qubits in superposition.

SlaeOur mistress is guaranteed to give away a seat to the first plush prole who can make a piece of pine tree lie without it pulling a long nose. I must report this emphatically from Graediva because it belongs with your future election promise.

It does not really encourage. Rinse, who out of a kind of inability more often than not takes no responsibility for his own life and surroundings, can really make no sense of the equally contradictory as improbably coherent challenge or promise. Added to that is that only the working human matters. Slae sees that. There is help.

SlaeRepeat the password with claps in your head, sir. Graediva could not make it simpler. Just remember it. Don’t forget.

It works. It escapes Slae how two hands almost touch. Rinse has difficulty with the spontaneous physical reaction to the imprinting and suppresses further reacting in time. It continues one way or another.

SlaeOnce inside you don’t have to repeat it.

RinseFine.

A sliding door opposite the lift and past the equally smart as multifunctional robot opens automatically. Between the lift and the sliding door there is also still a swivel chair behind a desk, but that is then again opposite the main entrance. In a kind of dining salon where empty bookcases also stand, Rinse has, next to Slae, a view of a terrace and a surrounding garden full of solar panels.

It looks nothing like a factory.

SlaeBeuqBoxz.

Slae presents the whole as a model from some home programme with style and that sort of thing. Rinse knows the promotional gesturing, but then from some car programme with gadgets and that sort of thing. The mentioned name above the glass façade shines no less for it in neon letters. Only a stray bibliophile now and then recalls times of old. No expertly bound reading matter.

SlaeI will not bore you with the rich history. Inside or outside?

Rinse does not care. Only a few subversives protested against the levelling to the ground, but because stirring up unrest often achieves as much as sleeping a hole in the day, the building pit still came and Slae can now choose a pleasant spot under a parasol. No sparrows. Missing crumbs are to blame for that.

RinseIt is rather zen here.

SlaeIndustrial. The terrace, the floors, the walls and the ceilings change colour temperature with the sun. Is it not artful?

No reaction. Rinse, who also sees that the intelligently illuminating stuff is particularly artfully concealed, expresses himself differently.

RinseLiving beings in which there is a soul, I mean.

SlaeYou mean that something is missing, I understand. You are to blame for that, sir. No problem. I propose that you enjoy the peace while it is still possible.

Under the parasol Rinse settles a kind of limp body into the terrace chair and considers how it stands with the factory that has been given the name BeuqBoxz. Rinse did not experience the completion. The last image is that of the uniform floor on which a grey XJ is now parked.

No lift yet, but already a shaft. No kind of dining salon where empty bookcases also stand, but already crossbeams. No terrace and a surrounding garden full of solar panels, but already the omnipresent mortal Julius who prefers to be called Caesar and speaks the right language when it comes to work in progress.

SlaeThere is time. We can eat, sir. What will it be?

Our guest accepted as good people in a kind of social hunger strike thinks long and deeply. Slae patiently pulls her white skirt, which is long enough to cover at least half of the upper legs, tight.

RinseZoervleisj without horseshoe, chips with mayonnaise, and for dessert scoop ice cream. No ice lolly. Make it vanilla. Not with the taste of vanilla, but real with vanilla.

SlaeDrink?

RinseCola. Not with a separate flavour or without sugar, but ordinary cola. If possible from a can. And lemon, in a slice.

SlaeFast and ready-made, or prepare it ourselves?

Rinse, who is not allowed to do odd jobs, seems confused. Slae sees that.

SlaeI’ll tie on a nice kitchen apron, sir. You may watch.

Fast and ready-made simply loses after a few false eyelash flutters to watching. The choice clearly gives Slae pleasure. Rinse has not yet made his wishes known when a decent drone already flies over the parasols and the solar panels in the surrounding garden.

No permit. Going deeper into the thought behind the applications that have, for example, been made for Qnaapje serves no purpose at this moment. The cosy neighbourhood has by now grown accustomed to Rinse’s kind of personal assistant and that is what it is all about.

Call it marketing.

RinseWhat is that?

SlaeYour order. Progress, sir. Less noisy than a scooter and no trouble with all those annoying priority rules. Will you walk with me, runaway?

A well-formed behind in which deliberately much movement is put goes ahead. Rinse follows, so two well-formed breasts under something fluffy held together by a pin for the time being add little, moving softly back and forth, to the strolling. There is a mirrored wall between the space for guests and the space for staff in which there is a soul or a charged battery.

A fresh scar. Rinse also sees Slae and himself double. The kind of embarrassing clearly pleases Slae.

SlaeEntrée.

Two powder-free disposable gloves of the material nitrile in the colour blue close perfectly, thanks to a good fit, both left and right up to the wrist. Going deeper into the advantage of blue versus black or white nitrile serves no purpose at this moment, for the futuristic kitchen is after all no tattoo shop or laundry. Slae confirms that by holding out a kitchen apron.

SlaeIf you would be so kind.

More because it is in his nature Rinse of course does it kindly.

SlaeTighter.

As if the teasing has escaped him Rinse ties a neat bow.

SlaeMerci.

In the futuristic kitchen full of smart appliances Slae has not yet put a pan and other utensils into position when the order already flies in. It seems complete. Even rinse apple syrup and breakfast cake are not missing for the evening meal.

A blue-nitrile-enclosed index finger rests on the just-delivered tin of rinse apple syrup. Another blue-nitrile-enclosed index finger gives a hint towards the underground car park below ground level.

SlaeOrdinary or extraordinary?

Not knowing what Qnaapje arrived with in the hospital, Rinse seriously hesitates between ordinary and extraordinary.

SlaeSay it. This dish is no accidental choice, sir.

Not knowing that Slae is pulling a trick or delivering a prank by suggesting a difference between the one rinse apple syrup and the other rinse apple syrup, Rinse almost mumbling chooses extraordinary. Our mindfucking slayer and dissector as well briefly presses the blue-nitrile-enclosed fingertip of her right index finger against the tip of Rinse’s nose. No glitter particles.

SlaeSay out loud that you left things on the back seat of my XJ and that everything in the kitchen is needed.

Rinse does not repeat the order. Slae explains why even an extremely smart building like BeuqBoxz needs clear instructions. Thus Graediva, after changing sides, sometimes jokingly asks Julius what he is thinking of during the wild pumping.

Julius’s thoughts then go out to a working mother who is preferably single, for example. No problem. Thus Julius, after changing sides, sometimes asks Graediva what she is thinking of during the all too compliant moving along.

Graediva’s thoughts then go out to self-solving, for example. No problem. Rinse goes along with the broad outline as it has come from Slae’s mouth.

SlaeNot everything is what it seems, sir. Words separate thoughts. Words determine what is truth, or form a lie. Honesty is the clearest. Now say out loud to BeuqBoxz what it can mean for you.

Rinse repeats the order. In the reception or entrance hall the equally smart as multifunctional robot obediently starts moving. The transmitter, the charger and the flat box full of scale parts end up on the kitchen island.

The bag containing a tin of rinse apple syrup, worn clothes, an electric toothbrush, a spray can of anti-perspirant, a little folder with a driving licence, an identity card, a healthcare card and a bank card is also not missing.

SlaeIf I may be so free.

It is allowed. Slae rather elegantly unzips Rinse’s bag. A division arises.

The tin of rinse apple syrup extraordinary ends up on Slae’s side of the kitchen island. After zipping shut the sorting continues. A tub of deep-frozen scoop ice cream full of vanilla ends up in the freezer above the fridge.

A cold can of cola with sugar and ordinary flavour ends up in the fridge under the freezer. The bending may well be called squatting, but with that this story does Slae’s intention behind the unnecessary exercise short. The fridge closes.

The kitchen apron again neatly closes what under the neat bow at the back has been briefly clearly visible. Our mindfucking slayer and dissector as well returns to the changing of sides and gives her own twist to dealing with BeuqBoxz. There is eye contact.

SlaeWomen are just as bad, sir. With all those written-out dialogues a random soap series is actually also porn. I enjoy talking with you.

Meat without horseshoe ends up next to a sharp knife on a cutting board. The eye contact is broken. Blue-nitrile-enclosed hands massage the meat without horseshoe to temperature before cutting. There is direction in the grain and before cutting a dash of vinegar goes over it.

SlaeI understand Julius’s fixation. It has to be quick, between a busy life. Planning ahead is important. Short text messages, attention and confirmation.

Slae seeks eye contact. Rinse lets the session wash over him as best and as badly as it goes.

SlaeSorry. Back to you. Why the fleeing?

Rinse stares at the tin of rinse apple syrup extraordinary, the breakfast cake, the butter, the large onions, the cloves, the bay leaves, the pepper and the salt on Slae’s side of the kitchen island. There are also eggs and oil, but that stands apart for the mayonnaise. Potatoes are, as is known, not yet chips. The vinegar almost makes the eyes water. Lemon is sour.

RinseThe ingredients are already there. As soon as a new ingredient has reached the kitchen table there is always a cook who makes something of it. Apart from that the road to the implanting has done the matter little good.

There is eye contact.

SlaeAre you afraid of the graphene?

RinseNo. Yes.

Our doubter who can think well long and deeply opens, after breaking the eye contact, very distractingly the flat box full of scale parts. There are screws in different sizes and the right tools come neatly from large to small side by side on an unfolded cloth in the colour white. There are also little gears, little bearings and little springs for which the manual knows a place.

The manual stays closed. Assembling is a recurring activity and can therefore, just like disassembling, be done very well without the pre-chewed on paper.

RinseThrough the compulsory diet followed and the physical exertions I got energy again. Rest, cleanliness and regularity sucks, Slae. It took away what I had become so used to.

A falling silence fills the space in the sterile futuristic kitchen. The vinegar-marinated meat is turned over. Rinse looks for a scale part. Slae handles the knife and makes cubes of the slices just as deftly as she can type blind. It goes by feel.

RinseHitting strong and fit people in the face is not allowed. Bureaucratically demolishing people is allowed again, but that is a side track. Is it now clear that my will has completely gone off the rails? If there are no applications I have no use for skills. In the best case a healthy body yields preferential treatment, but even then the attraction stops at a contraceptive.

Slae, who in the hospital has already heard something of Rinse’s explanation earlier, thinks of Julius. Whoever fights with the sword gets from our mortal no powerful pen, or something of the kind. Also the going about foraging in the wild knows, with all the marriages and relationships, a kind of limitation to which Rinse more or less hints.

SlaeBeing able to do more therefore makes everything worse, if I understand you correctly.

It is indeed fundamentally different from the principle that leads to the person who can do everything often also being allowed or having to do everything. It is powerlessness and pure despair, with a certain attitude as a result. Slae sees that.

SlaeFrustrating.

A little bearing fits during the falling silent around a little wheel axle. Rinse has great difficulty with the battery in the corner of the eye that has to be brought up to voltage shortly before driving. It happens to say on it that it contains graphene.

Now graphene may be an excellent thermal and electrical conductor, but the advertised stuff in the battery on the kitchen island is definitely no two-dimensional material consisting of a single layer of carbon atoms arranged in a hexagonal lattice. Rinse knows that. It may also be known that deception works well with consumers who have difficulty recognising quality.

Still Rinse reacts to Slae’s equally short as empathetic statement.

RinseRage-making, Slae. Enough to be afraid of.

Graediva, who often feels good and therefore often also better than the rest, does not know the history behind the running away as it has now come to the surface. This does not alter the fact that Rinse has left our mistress of advanced pleasure and me with three lucid dreams. Slae carefully touches on that.

SlaeHow now further with the Green Face that Looks Black, the Truth of the Equal and the Generation Number?

A deep sigh. Bottled liquids with a difference in viscosity remain under the cap. Rinse is silent about knowledge as a disease, lets nothing slip about the seen connection between cause and effect and keeps his mouth shut about the three cubes that, calculating, between the conscience and the unknown logically cipher with representations and memories.

Call it neurotic, with a kind of automatic writing as a result. After the catching it has been given the three already mentioned titles.

RinseIt has been destroyed. I don’t want to talk about it.

There is time. In a simmering sauce meat without horseshoe cooks. Potatoes are thinly peeled by Slae and briefly pre-cooked.

The evening meal will take at least two hours. Consumers who are demanding when it comes to entertainment may leave the storyline, but need not do so at once. Patience is, as may be known, a virtue.

The by now ready-to-drive electrically powered and radio-controlled model car that is twelve times too small in scale to be real does not care.

RinseKnow every detail and you get the best out of the whole. I have an opinion about world leaders, Slae. How much longer?

SlaeAi-ai-ai is still in beta, sir. The cause behind the delay may be known to you.

RinseYes, fine. How much time before the evening meal is ready, I mean.

Slae gestures with her clean right hand, which just like her clean left hand is no longer enclosed by a disposable glove of the material nitrile in the colour blue, towards a specific touchscreen on the kitchen island and thus Rinse sees that the digital countdown stops after exactly two hours and seven minutes. Rinse indicates by lifting that he is going to visit the underground car park below ground level.

Call it Circus Maximus in miniature.

RinseI’ll be right back.

The equally smart as multifunctional robot with in every room in BeuqBoxz five kind of connected eyes and an equally odd number of kind of connected ears lets Slae, by means of a specific device in the futuristic kitchen, see and hear what Rinse in fact gets up to in physical absence. Slae drinks mint tea with it while stirring.

Lap 1. Lap time: 3.35 seconds.

Lap 2. Lap time: 3.23 seconds.

Lap 3. Lap time: 3.12 seconds.

Tyres of the flexible material foam leave a heat trail on the top layer of a kind of coating. BeuqBoxz registers that.

Lap 4. Lap time: 3.13 seconds.

Lap 5. Lap time: 3.13 seconds.

The heat trail has as much of a lemniscate as of a Lorenz attractor about it, and that is rather cleverly done for a linearly thinking person who repeatedly resists everything that can wear in. Not knowing what to become is to blame for that. Added to that is that the heat trail has the shape of my interface. The driven lap times do not care. No oncoming traffic.

Lap 6. Lap time: 3.14 seconds.

Lap 7. Lap time: 3.12 seconds.

Our mechanic who is also a driver lets the electrically powered and radio-controlled model car that is twelve times too small in scale to be real, after some adjustments, go round in the opposite direction.

RinseI have difficulty with that one irrational number, Vincuit. Why does death insist on being born with all its might?

Just like Ai-ai-ai in beta I am now not able to answer. Rinse also complains about being pursued by 13 that as a number appears more often than statistically expected everywhere. Round and back and forth it continues just as long until the battery containing a questionable kind of graphene is tired of it. There then is the lift.

RinseParticipation society.

The lift door that obediently follows a protocol does not react and remains closed. An inspiration. With his hands full Rinse lets his slipper on the right foot rather cleverly hit the floor in time.

RinsePar-ti-ci-pa-tion-so-cie-ty.

The lift door opens obediently. It goes one floor higher. Our human-like robot that does hospitality and moreover something with security welcomes Rinse. The sliding door opposite the lift and past our equally smart as multifunctional robot opens, as always simply without question-and-answer game, automatically, which is a relief for Rinse who has his hands full.