“Okay, let’s roll out the tape,” Corfe said. “Now we’ll see if this crazy idea of yours and Taki’s works.”
“We already tried it. It works,” Kevin answered.
Taking a side of the case each, they carried the measuring tape to the base of the chair and stood it on its side so that it butted against the castor and support bracket. While Kevin wedged the case to prevent it from moving, Corfe took hold of the protruding metal tag at the end of the tape and backed away until the markings showed that he had drawn out thirty-six inches. “That should do it,” Kevin said, and locked the clamp to stop the tape retracting.
Corfe came back, and between them they moved the case out from under the chair and closer to the desk. Working together like firefighters maneuvering an extension ladder, they raised the tape carefully from the floor, moving it slowly so that it wouldn’t kink and bend, and turned it until the top end leaned against the edge of the desk. “What we need now is something solid up on top of the desk to act as an anchor and keep the tape taut,” Kevin said.
“Can you see anything on the screen, Michelle?” Corfe asked.
“There’s a kind of metal desk organizer with lots of dividers and trays,” she replied after a few seconds. She was looking at the screen that Corfe had pointed out before he coupled in, showing the view being picked up by one of the two small mecs planted high up in the office since yesterday.
“Let me see.” Still retaining motor control of the larger mec, Corfe switched his vision to the channel that Michelle was watching. Hence, he was able to see down onto the desk and at the same time work with Kevin by touch to move the tape from below. The organizer was a chromed composition of stationery slots and trays for pens and other oddments, with numerous edges. Just the thing. “Okay, it’s a bit farther to the left,” he told Kevin.
With Corfe directing, they steered the tape above the organizer, and then extended it farther until it suddenly buckled over the edge of desk to fall across the metal dividers and edges. “Now we reel it in,” Kevin said.
After a few tries they succeeded in snagging the end-tag. Pulling the tape tight, they now had a rigid ladder running up from the floor to the edge of the desk, and over.
Now it was Kevin’s turn to switch mecs. Transferring to one of the small models that they had below, he wrapped a length of line around its body like a mountaineer’s rope and inched his way up the swaying metal strip, using the mec’s hands as clamps on the edges. Corfe switched his vision back to floor-view and steadied the tape from below. At the top, Kevin unwound the line, secured it to the desk lamp, and threw the other end down to Corfe, who was then able to walk himself up the drawer fronts, carrying the KE mec, and its keyboard adapter plug and cable with him.
“You know, if this fails, you guys could always get in a circus with that act,” Michelle told them.
There were now three mecs up on the desktop: the small general-purpose type that Kevin had used to scale the tape; the larger, more powerful, telebot type that Corfe had taken up; and the Keyboard Emulator. Corfe unplugged the regular keyboard from the computer and replaced it with cord that he had brought up from the floor; the other end connected into the head socket of the KE mec, which Kevin now activated and brought around in front of the screen. Corfe tipped the power switch on the front of the computer box to “On,” and the whir of the cooling fan starting came from inside. He crossed the desk and turned on the monitor, and a moment later the screen came to life to show the familiar operating system trademark and logo.
“We’re in business!” Kevin announced.
“Bravo,” Michelle complimented from the van.
“Teamwork,” Kevin said from the lab at Neurodyne.
The cursor on the screen moved—presumably following a finger that Kevin was moving in virtual space. A selection of menus appeared. “Where would be a good place to start?” Kevin’s voice asked on the circuit. “files, looks promising, yes?”