Mosscap considered this seriously. “Like elk,” it said.
“Sorry?” Dex said.
“Elk don’t understand robots, either. We confuse them, and that makes them afraid, and then they can get … well, disagreeable.” Mosscap nodded to itself. “I never take it personally, with elk. You have to let them come to you instead of you going to them.” Its eyes brightened a touch. “I understand that.” It shifted to face them directly. “Have you ever been charged by an elk, Sibling Dex?”
“I … have not.”
“Mmm,” Mosscap replied. It looked out at the sea. “I don’t recommend it.”
* * *
Robot minds and human minds had a key difference between them, and Dex had learned it well in the past few months. For as distracted as Mosscap could be whenever something new and interesting entered the scene, it was equally capable of devoting itself to a single task indefinitely, without need of diversion. No matter how easy-going Dex thought themself, there was no competing with a being whose cohorts were out in the wilds, watching stalagmites form and saplings grow. A human mind was perpetually restless by comparison, and that was how Dex found themself as the day dragged on without any visitors from the villages below. To pass the time, they cleaned their bike. They made some lunch. They answered some messages. They tended their herbs within the wagon, took a short nap, then reorganized a cupboard that had been annoying them for weeks.
Mosscap, on the other hand, sat in its chair. It didn’t read, or talk much. It didn’t seem to move. It simply waited in patient hope for people who might never show up.
Until at last someone did.
A stranger approached, walking up one of the cliffside trails. They were middle-aged, fit and trim with a pepper-grey braid. They wore a knit sweater to fend off the fog, which made for a funny juxtaposition with the open-toed fish-leather sandals strapped to their feet. Dex waved to them as they approached, and Mosscap did the same, transitioning in a blink from its silent vigil into animated excitement. The stranger paused for the briefest of moments to raise an eyebrow as they absorbed the sight of the robot, then gave a nod of acknowledgment. At first blush, Dex got the impression of a person who took even the most extraordinary occurrences in stride.
“Hello there,” Dex said. They fell easily into the mode they so often adopted for tea service—a practiced, smiling, friendly performance of themself. “Please, join us.”
The stranger walked up, looking at Mosscap with the same casual gaze as before. “Well, you are something, aren’t you?” they said.
“I am Mosscap,” the robot said with a polite bow of its head. “And this is my friend, Sibling Dex.”
“Pleased to meet you both,” the stranger said. “My name’s Avery.”
“We’re glad you’re here, Mx. Avery,” Dex said, establishing a congenial mood but adding nothing further. They’d learned, with encounters such as these, that their role was to smooth out any bumps in whatever conversation would follow, but only as necessary. They had become a translator, of sorts. A chaperone. A shepherd. They would keep Mosscap on the rails and break the ice if it grew too thick, but ultimately, these moments were about Mosscap and the other person, and not about Dex at all. In some ways, their profession had prepared Dex well for this. Building a canvas for others to explore themselves on was rather the point of monastic service, after all.
Mx. Avery pulled a leather waterskin from their satchel and took a long sip of whatever was inside. “That trail’s always easier going down,” they said. They looked at Mosscap. “How do those metal feet of yours do on steep trails?”
“Very well,” Mosscap said. “They have excellent traction, and my sense of balance has never been better.”
“I’m glad to hear that, because I’d like to extend an invitation.” Mx. Avery capped their waterskin and returned it to their bag. “Would you like to come down and go fishing with me? Just off the dock; we don’t need to bother with a boat.”
To say that Dex was surprised by this was an understatement. They glanced at Mosscap, ready to follow its lead.
Mosscap was smiling, but its head whirred. “I would love to join you, yes,” it said. “However, I don’t participate in hunting behavior myself. Would I have to … take part?”
Mx. Avery shrugged. “You can do whatever you’re comfy with. I can get you a pole, or you can sit and watch. Suits me the same either way.” They looked at Dex. “Same goes for you, Sibling.”