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A quiet whirring woke Geralt and he dug himself out from under the impossibly soft covers of the orks' bed. It was still so early that the roar of London was muted and everything seemed peaceful.
Everything but the whirrrrrrr. Like an enormous fly but much deeper. Geralt sat up and looked around. Something moved and disappeared from his view behind the foot of the bed.
Flinging the covers aside, Geralt hurried after it to the end of the mattress. The movement sent Eskel bouncing and he sat up with a confused mumble, came to join Geralt.
They both stared down at the round thing with the enormous eyes wandering to and fro in front of the bed. It gave a cheerful beep and made a sharp turn around the side of the bed, sending both witchers scrambling after it.
"What is that? Do you think it's supposed to be here?" Geralt squinted down at it with suspicion. He supposed it was a drone, like the ones they had seen driving or even flying around London. But what was it doing? What if it had snuck in? Should they call Duncan and Rhys?
The eyes made it look almost endearing. It certainly didn't act threatening but what did they know. They had been to this world all of twenty-four hours. Geralt looked over to Eskel and got a helpless shrug.
A tiny feather from one of the pillows drifted down to the floor and landed it front of the thing. It moved right over it and the feather was gone.
"Wait, does it eat dirt?" Eskel sat up and looked around, found another feather. It settled on the ground a little ways from the thing when Eskel dropped it and the thing changed directions to whirr over to the feather. When it returned to its original path, the feather was gone.
The witchers looked at each other, a delighted grin building on Geralt's face.
***
A quiet knock on the door woke Rhys. He rolled out of bed and padded over to the door, pulling on a pair of boxers. Duncan immediately was awake and following him, curiosity and a little worry shouldering the sleepiness aside.
Outside were Eskel and Geralt, with obviously hastily thrown on clothes. Eskel was holding the roomba in both hands. It was beeping mournfully. Both witchers wore sheepish looks.
"I think we made it sick? Can you help?" Eskel held the little robot out to Rhys.
"What do you mean, you made Inigo sick?" Behind Rhys, Duncan let out a giggle, muffled by the shirt he was pulling over his head.
"He came into our room, looking for dirt?" Geralt craned his neck to keep an eye on the roomba from behind Eskel as it changed hands to Rhys. "And we --fed him. And then he stopped moving and started making this noise. We're sorry."
Duncan snorted and moved forward to look over Rhys' shoulder. "What did you feed him?"
"That soft white paper from the box on the nightstand? But only small pieces." Geralt held up two fingers an inch apart, trying to explain.
"Oh yeah, Inigo likes those. He'll eat himself sick on them. No self-control." Duncan twisted to escape Rhys' elbow aimed at his gut. "What, you know it's true."
***
Under the watchful eyes of Eskel and Geralt, Rhys emptied out Inigo's tank into the recycler and set the little robot back on the ground. It gave a much more cheerful beep and rolled off to complete its morning round of the apartment.
When it came back during breakfast, Duncan caught Geralt surreptitiously dropping a few breadcrumbs in front of it. Inigo hoovered them up quickly. Duncan dropped a few crumbs of his own and winked at Geralt, mouthing don't tell Rhys at him. They shared a grin and went back to breakfast, Inigo happily munching on the treats.