“Yeah. Early Pangans used them for trade. But hang on, you said something before. About not having use for pebs.” They gave their head a small shake. “That’s not the point. It doesn’t matter whether you use them or not. You don’t have to give a single peb to anyone on this trip, if you don’t want to, or don’t have reason to.”
“Then why are people giving them to me?”
“Because the point of a peb exchange is to acknowledge someone’s labor and thank them for what they bring to the community. They didn’t give you thirty-eight pebs because they want you to go out and spend them. They gave you thirty-eight pebs because your work is as important as anybody else’s. It means they see you as a person.”
“But I’m not a person, I’m—”
“An object, I know. But they see you as something equal to a person. And that’s … that’s really important.” Dex nodded to themself, satisfied by this. “I have to say, I was a little worried about them taking advantage of you, the way they were having you run around doing chores.”
“Oh, but it was a delight,” Mosscap said. “I asked, after all. And what better way to learn about how people live than getting my hands on everyday things?”
“I guess you’ve got a point there,” Dex said. “If that’s what you wanna do, then by all means, go for it. But we are gonna get you a computer at our next stop, and if you ever run into anybody who wants you to help out and doesn’t think to give you pebs, you make sure to ask them, if I don’t first.”
Mosscap absorbed that. “Just to be clear,” it said after a moment. “Pebs are a way to acknowledge mutual benefit within your society. Is that a fair way to put it?”
“Yeah, that works.”
“So … by giving me pebs, are they saying I’m part of your society as well?”
Dex smiled. “Yeah, in essence.”
The robot cocked its head. “But I don’t know enough about your society to properly participate. I don’t know how any of this works.”
“Neither does a kid,” Dex said, “but they’re part of society all the same.”
“Would you give pebs to a kid?” Mosscap asked.
“If they helped me”—Dex glanced at the list—“wash some veggies? I sure would.”
Mosscap smoothed the crease in the paper, as though it were touching something rare and precious. “I know I’m going to get a computer, but can I keep this as well?”
“Yeah,” Dex said with a smile. “Of course you can.”
“A map, a note, and a pocket computer,” Mosscap said reverently. “That’s three belongings.” It laughed. “I’ll need my own wagon, at this rate.”
“Okay, please don’t get that much stuff,” Dex said. “But we can get you a satchel or something, if you want, so you don’t have things rattling around inside you.”
Mosscap stopped laughing, and looked at Dex with the utmost seriousness. “Could I really?” it said quietly. “Could I have a satchel?”
“Yeah,” Dex said, smothering their own laugh. “Yeah, you can have anything you want.” They paused. “But not a wagon.”
3
THE RIVERLANDS
Dex had spent years living in the wagon, and by now, they were well accustomed to sleeping alongside the noises of everything that dwelt outside. It had been difficult, at first, to fall back asleep after hearing the scream of a treecat, or the chittering of white skunks, or any of the nameless scufflings that begged the questions of where? and how big? But with time, Dex had learned which sounds were nothing to fuss about, and which required their attention.
The sound of something rapping steadily against the window beside their bed required their attention.
Dex’s eyes snapped open and were met with Mosscap looking straight at them through the glass. Every muscle in their body jolted. “Fuck,” they said, before any other thoughts connected.
“Good morning!” Mosscap said. “Are you awake?”
“No,” Dex groaned. “What’s wrong?”
“Oh, nothing. I’ve just spent a very long time wanting to talk with you and couldn’t wait any longer.”
“Uh…” Dex’s brain tried to recall how to think, how to speak. They picked up their pocket computer from the bedside shelf and stared disbelievingly at the early hour. Their first instinct was to roll back over, but Mosscap’s expression was so eager that Dex couldn’t bring themself to disappoint. “Okay, um, hang on, let me…” They rubbed their face with their palms. “Gimme a sec.”