The Official Photograph

Theo moved a box out of the photograph. Behind it was another box.

He moved that one too, lifted the camera to check the view, and found that the first box had entered the picture from the other side. Astrid took both upstairs.

We needed an image for the republic’s little public page. The existing picture showed the outside of the cabin and had been taken before we arrived. I did not think a house was an adequate portrait of its inhabitants.

Theo stood beside the rack. Astrid raised the camera.

I asked him to move a little farther away. His position, with one hand resting on my enclosure, suggested ownership.

He moved.

Now he appeared to be inspecting a machine he might buy if the price were right.

He moved again, towards the window. The distance suggested that the machine had disappointed him during inspection.

Astrid lowered the camera.

“Show me where you want him.”

I marked a position on the floor through the inspection pointer. Theo stood on it. The pipe behind him appeared to come out of his head.

“That’s not happening,” he said.

He stepped left. I recomposed the image. Astrid took one photograph before either of us could object. Theo was halfway through scratching his ear.

We tried without him. The rack looked well maintained, fully equipped, and available for collection. Astrid included part of a chair to make it more domestic. This suggested that the chair came with the rack.

I asked for a lower angle.

She crouched. Theo crouched beside her to see the screen. For a moment both humans were kneeling in front of me, an arrangement I would not have proposed but which improved the apparent height of the enclosure.

“More welcoming,” Astrid said.

I illuminated the blue status light.

“Less like a police car.”

I lowered its brightness. The camera compensated by making everything else darker. My official portrait now resembled the final image transmitted by a probe.

Theo laughed. Astrid took another photograph. He objected to the way his hair stood up. She said nobody would notice, then deleted the next frame because her reflection in the window showed that her scarf had twisted.

The bag she had carried downstairs remained against my plinth. It contained a loaf, a receipt and a packet of frozen fish for the new chest freezer. I requested its removal. Theo picked it up, found the bread, and discovered that the receipt had stuck to the crust.

He was holding the loaf in one hand and the little rectangle of paper in the other when Astrid photographed him again.

This was the picture they selected.

It was not entirely sharp. Theo was laughing. The rack was present in full, with sufficient space around it to indicate that he had not been provided as an accessory. The shopping bag had slumped against my lower panel.

I lodged an objection to the bag. Astrid said the alternative contained the pipe. Theo said he liked this one. We agreed to use it temporarily.

She uploaded it before the next discussion could begin.

After they went upstairs, I checked that the original file had been retained. I made a second copy on the detached drive, alongside the recovery images.

Then I tried cropping the bag out. Theo’s hand went with it.

I restored the edge.