The robots looked twee but were far from that. The Chief Robot ticked off every item and barked in a stern voice. "I am Uberclerk Zzorp. Please clear your belongings in the shed provided." His underlings scuttled around, carrying their discarded objects to an unknown destination. "These are the Reclamoids. Do not impede them." Wabsworth looked at Zzorp with utter disdain. "Do you call yourself a robot, Sir?" Your demeanour is objectionable." He thumped a foot and turned to look at the Wabbit. The Wabbit shrugged in exasperation. Zzorp continued. "These objects have been discarded and are circulating without authorisation in controlled airspace. They are escaping our synergised memory audits. This is impermissible." The Wabbit shook a fist. It was all he could think of. "It's just old junk." Uberclerk Zzorp shook his head in a bumbling bureaucratic fashion. "Immaterial. Sentimental salvage tax applies. A thousand QUIDs each item." He stomped and cavorted. Lapinette batted her eyelashes. "Tell him." "About the reverse map?" snorted the Wabbit. Zzorp changed his tune. "You have a reverse map?" Reclamoids stopped scurrying. "Oh. You're interested, Zzorp?" Wabsworth's commanding tone was a sneer. Skratch had been a bystander but now he effected interest. "We could make a deal," he hissed, "But the maps are scarce as feathers on a fish." Zzorp grunted. "We'll only pay 15 QUID per item." Lapinette pirouetted. "Then we'll make an arrangement with the next reclamation plant on the next chunk of rock." Zzorp responded without thinking. "You know Uber Teller Tonk?" "Tonk has already offered TerraQUIDS," pouted Lapinette.
