It's the anniversary. Glam would very much not like to celebrate.
It’s their last day on Winslow High—they’re being transferred to Arcadia on Monday—and also their last day without a patrol schedule assigned.
And the PRT released a small announcement on its website about Glam joining the Wards. Now their wiki page doesn’t get erased, of course—they’re no longer speculative. They wonder what it’s got on them.
When Windflower has come back from the bathroom:
"Your ball, go."
It goes, faster than all the previous times, losing momentum before hitting a wall but not enough that it doesn't bounce off it and goes a ways towards the opposite wall.
"Okay, I'm going to tell Windflower to duck under the table in case you fling one too hard at a wall. ...Real ball go."
The robots might notice it rolling a little bit more, but it's little enough that it might just be random fluctuations in air currents or some such.
Lorica snorts. The bot whistles very high indeed. "You broke it. Can you put it back without video?"
"Now I'm going to tell her nothing's going to happen while we go on some conversational tangent. Your ball go."
It goes! Slower than the second time she told their ball to go after Windflower was around, but faster than the third.
"And now I'm going to tell her to step out of the room for some control data. Real ball go."
"Okay, she's back now," Lorica lies. "Expecting, quote, 'more of the same'. Your ball go."
Goes slightly faster than it just did, not as fast as when Windflower had actually been there and been told to expect more of the same.
Windflower actually returns to the room. "Told her we're going to do the hovering thing, like your suit."