It was in that pose that George found him. George was his Consideratór and was getting close to being done with him. Perhaps another talk was warranted, George thought. But it was close to getting to be decision time.
Roy looked up. He wanted to be left alone; he wanted to walk away from all this. Something compelled him to stay. He simply said, "George" in reply.
"D'you want to talk about it?"
Roy sighed. "What's left? I've done everything now, and I'm no closer to the solution than I was when I started."
George suppressed a reaction to the unintended pun and took a few steps closer to the lab bench. A crunch underfoot told him he had just destroyed a pipette. At the sound, Roy slumped lower in his seat.
"Couldn't you have trained me more completely?" he asked.
George paused a moment before answering. "As your Consideratór, I am allowed to say that we trained as well as we could train you."
"But not well enough to complete this," Roy replied, waving a hand over the lab bench.
George nodded. "The stupidest farmer grows the biggest potatoes. And your potatoes are so very, very big, Roy."