This choice did not make broaching the topic any easier.
“Mosscap, there’s…” Dex stuck their hands in their pockets and sucked their teeth. “I don’t want to bring things down, but I think we should chat about what your—what our expectations should be like while we’re here. I don’t … I don’t know … how much of the beach we’ll actually get to see close up.”
The robot lowered its binoculars. “Why?”
Dex exhaled. They sat in one of the chairs, and gestured for Mosscap to take the other. “Two things,” they said, as Mosscap sat. “First, most of the Coastlands is rewilded territory. You could walk through it, if you want to, but I can’t. There are no roads or trails in a lot of places, and the animals that live there aren’t used to people and shouldn’t be disturbed.”
“So, nesting birds and the like,” Mosscap said. “Pupping seals, that kind of thing?”
“Probably,” Dex said. “I don’t know specifics. I just know it’s not my place. I mean that literally. The human footprint along the coast is a very small one, by design.”
“That seems wise,” Mosscap said. “But what about this beach?” It angled its head toward the little wooden homes standing at the root of the cliffs.
“Well, that’s the second thing.” Dex sought their words with care. “The villages that do exist here … may not be overly welcoming to you and me.” They sighed again. “You in particular.”
“Oh,” Mosscap said. The robot was taken aback but did not react strongly. It merely folded its hands in its lap and looked at Dex, seeking understanding. “Why?”
Dex puffed out their cheeks and leaned back in their chair. “The folks here, by and large, aren’t cool with modern technology. Any technology, really, beyond the most basic basics.”
Mosscap’s eyes shifted. “You touched on this before, back at the hermitage. But you didn’t explain.”
Dex began to do exactly that. “Some people went in kind of an extreme direction after the Transition. They think tech is a slippery slope that heads right back to the Factory Age, so they don’t use anything automated. Most don’t use electricity, except maybe for heating, and even that’s not a given. Some use animals to help with pulling and lifting things, but a lot of them just stick to what they can carry on their own. And that’s fine—that’s their choice. They can live how they like. But they also are known to get prickly about people bringing mainstream tech into their space. When I do tea service here, I rarely go into town. I usually just park on the outskirts and let people come to me if they want to. Like we’re doing now.”
“Why don’t they want you close by?” Mosscap said.
“Because I have an electric kettle,” Dex said. “And an ox-bike. And a pocket computer. And a fridge. You get the idea.”
Mosscap looked down at its metal frame. “If they don’t like ox-bikes or electric kettles, I can see how I might pose a problem.”
Dex screwed up their face in apology. “Yeah.”
The robot ran its hand over the exposed components of its midsection, as if seeing itself for the first time. Dex already hated making Mosscap think about this. They knew Mosscap to have unshakable belief in its intrinsic value—I know no matter what, I’m wonderful, it had proclaimed back in the wilds—and watching it silently question its own body made Dex want to return to the highway and forget this whole leg of the trip.
Mosscap looked back up, the light in its eyes lower than before. “I’ve never felt like a problem,” it said. “Not a very good feeling, is it?”
“Do you want to go?” Dex said. “I’m serious. I’m sorry, I should’ve told you sooner, and that’s on me. We don’t have to—”
“Yes, we do,” Mosscap said decisively. “I’m here to meet humanity, and these people you’ve described are just as much a part of it as you are. I wouldn’t be doing a very good job of pursuing my quest if I only welcomed the parts that were fun.”
A flicker of admiration arose within Dex. They reached over and squeezed the robot’s wrist. “Okay,” they said. “But it’s your call. The second you change your mind, we’re out.”
Mosscap patted Dex’s hand. “Agreed.”
“And don’t think of yourself as a problem,” Dex said, a protective edge entering their voice. “If they have an issue with you, that’s on them. And it’s not even about you, personally. They just … don’t understand what you are. Or maybe they can’t fit you into their beliefs, and that scares them. The unknown makes us stupid sometimes.”