“You’ve lost me,” Dex said.
“Skeletal genes. Research shows there’s a correlation between them and a tendency towards insomnia.”
Dex blinked. “The hell have you been reading?”
“Everything,” Mosscap said.
Leroy took a loud, crunching bite of his apple, looking entertained.
Dex rubbed their face. “I really don’t think this bit has anything to do with your … your you. You said you don’t feel any different.”
“I don’t,” Mosscap admitted. “Not that I can tell. Do I seem different to you?”
“Not at all. I really think it’s fine. It’s not like we’re making you into a … a cyborg or something.”
“A what?”
“A cyborg. You know, like in stories?”
“No. What is that?”
“It’s a … a made-up thing. Half person, half robot.”
Mosscap’s lenses shifted. “Is it a monster?”
“Kind of. I don’t know; I’m not into that stuff. I just know it’s a thing.”
“What an odd notion. But you do bring up a good point. I am an object, not an animal. Would I become something different if I am no longer entirely synthetic?”
“No,” Leroy said. “Not at all.” He looked at Dex. “I know this is a personal question, Sibling, but do you have any sort of prosthetics? A pin in your shin, maybe? Or something little, like a filling?”
“Yeah,” Dex said. “I’ve got a couple fillings.”
“What’s a filling?” Mosscap said. “A filling of what?”
“Of holes in my teeth.” Dex pointed at their jaw. “And they’re filled with ceramic, as a matter of fact. So, I guess I’m not one hundred percent organic myself, if you get right down to it.”
“And you don’t feel any different for it?”
Dex laughed. “No. I don’t even remember that I have them most of the time. I cannot stress how unimportant fillings are in my day-to-day life.”
The robot thought quietly. “You’re saying your bodily components do not affect the essence of who you are.”
“Of course they do,” Dex said. “Why else would we decorate our bodies or change them altogether?”
Mosscap was perplexed. “So, which is it? Are you your body, or are you not your body?”
“Both,” Leroy said.
“And neither,” Dex said.
Mosscap looked between them. “This is very obtuse,” it said, sounding a bit frustrated. “I’m sorry, I’m trying to understand. Your consciousness arises from your body, just as mine does. Unconscious matter gives rise to a conscious self.”
“That’s right,” Dex said.
“In that sense, you are your body.”
“Yes.”
“But the self is also more than just the sum of the base-level parts.”
“Also yes.”
“So … your body is simultaneously you and not you.” Mosscap’s head whirred so loudly, it sounded as though it might take flight. “Where do you draw the line, between body and self?”
Dex didn’t know what to say.
Leroy shrugged. “That’s between you and the gods.” He took another bite of his apple.
Mosscap looked at the colorful spools of filament for a moment longer. “I need to consider it.”
“Absolutely,” Leroy said. “I heard you when you said you’re an object, not a person—do I have that right?”
“Yes,” Mosscap said.
Leroy nodded, chewing both a bite of apple and that thought with equal slowness. “Okay. Still, though, I think we’d be going about it wrong if we treated this like any other machine fix. It is a prosthetic we’re making here, and when I make prosthetics for people, I always tell them to take however much time they need to think about what they want. I get that you’re different, but it’s the same thing, I think.”
The robot looked at Leroy gratefully. “I appreciate that very much, thank you.” It turned its head to Dex. “Is that all right?”
“Of course,” Dex said. “We can hang out in town until you know what you want.”
Leroy set his apple down and leaned forward on the counter. “Well, if you’re gonna stay here,” he said, folding his hands together seriously, “we’ve gotta give you a much better welcome.”
* * *
The people of Kat’s Landing knew how to party.