Hob knocked, one-two, against the bulkhead door. A motion caught his eye, and he espied a man roughly his own age who gave him a nod and a grin. Hob returned the nod, at least. Smiles? His smiles were in short supply these days. Dismissing the encounter, he turned back to the door to knock again when his fist froze.

[i]Why was he doing this?[/i]

The though struck him out of nowhere, paralyzing him fast as more thoughts followed quickly. No one had specifically [i]ordered[/i] him to do see the doctor. It was simply expected. He had been told to, sure, but being told to was... well, it was more of a suggestion, wasn't it? Hob had never seen it in writing that he had to have his skull and nervous system scanned again and again and again, and it wasn't as though Dr. Brock had sent him any sort of reminder. It stood to reason that it must not be all that important if the doctor didn't bother to make a courtesy call! So why should he subject himself to further humiliation? This was something that could be done later, surely! After he had eaten and rested and felt calm! OLGA would understand and Gavin had built her; surely if she would understand Hob's reasoning then he had to as well! All of this only took the faintest few nanoseconds to rationalize in his head. 

The handheld communicator in his other hand buzzed with urgency. Frowning, he glanced at it to see it was from Dr. Park. [i]There[/i] was a reminder he could have done without! Worse still, the shrink had called him 'Robert', which if anyone had been taking any notes on him whatsoever they would know he didn't like his actual name. 'Robert', 'Bob', 'Rob', 'Robin', or (worse) the dreaded 'Bobby'... None of them sat as well on his tongue and mind as the archaic 'Hob". It was Park's none too subtle reminder that finally settled Hob's doubts and lead him to the only decision that would make him happy at that moment.

[i]Fuck 'em all to hell. I'm hungry, damn it![/i]

Dr. Brock had yet to acknowledge the first knock, and instead of knocking a second time the NI-tech stepped away from the door and hurried towards a side passage. He suppressed a giggle. Part of him at that moment very much wished he had a flaming bag of crap to leave in front of the door. Given his light-hearted and mischievous mood, doing the whole proverbial 'ring the door bell and run away' was good enough for the moment. Hurrying down the side corridor without running, Hob made for a cross passage that would lead him to the cafeteria. Park's message was ignored and Brock would be left to confusion. More importantly, Hob would get something to eat before going back on duty!

Communicator still in hand, he tapped out a quick message to OLGA. Much as he hated conversing with her through devices instead of face to face, Hob felt she should know that he was aiming to misbehave. [b][i]"Playing hooky. Don't tell Dad!"[/i][/b] He kept it short and sweet, resorting to texting just in case anyone passing by might overhear him and get curious as to what he was about. Pocketing the communicator then, Hob stuck his hands in the jumpsuit's hip pockets and made for the dining hall with a bit of a swagger he hadn't felt in some time. Sweetly he began to whistle up one of his favorites, 'When I Get Low, I Get High'. The professional notes within the bouncy melody hung in the air about him as smirked.

He'd pay for this little act of rebellion later, probably. But for right now? The freedom was sweeter than the music.