The flower garden that all the houses shared contained four big wooden tables, and Dex had sat at them many a time on early harvest evenings such as these. Dex was accustomed to the tables being stuffed to capacity with both food and people, as was the case then. What Dex wasn’t used to was a single topic of conversation, and to find themself at the center of it. It wasn’t a bad thing, but it was weird, and Dex didn’t quite know what to do with the spotlight. That wasn’t their usual role there. They were no longer sure of their place.
Otherwise, dinner was about as perfect as could be. The air was warm enough to make jackets unnecessary, yet still held an end-of-day crispness that made breathing easy. The food, as always, was tremendous. Nothing had been butchered recently, so everything on the table came from the ground or the trees, resulting in a leafy, juicy, seed-filled spread as colorful as any painter’s palette. Dex showed the family their trick of doling out a portion of food for Mosscap, then claiming it for themself as seconds. This satisfied everyone—particularly Dex’s parents, who couldn’t abide the idea of a guest with an empty plate.
Once the peak of the meal had passed, Mosscap got to work, moving from table to table and chair to chair, asking its question of everyone. The robot had gotten in the habit of logging people’s answers into its pocket computer, and it did just that, listening seriously and typing eagerly, looking for all the world like a reporter on the beat.
Dex knew from experience that Mosscap didn’t need their help once it got in this groove, and as soon as they were done eating, they felt the need for a moment in their more customary place on the edge of the action. They grabbed two bottles of beer from the ice-filled bucket, then moseyed toward someone else who shared their penchant for the periphery: their dad. They found him in a characteristic pose, leaning his forearms against the railing, hands clasped together as he watched fireflies bob in the twilight.
“Want another?” Dex asked, raising one of the bottles.
“Only if you join me,” their dad said. He accepted the drink, clinked it against Dex’s, then resumed his post, draping an arm around Dex’s shoulders with affectionate ease. The two of them sipped and said nothing, and were very comfortable in that arrangement.
“You fixed the fence,” said Dex after a while.
“Yeah,” their dad said. “Me and Jasper took care of it a few weeks ago. Not so much of an eyesore now, huh?”
“Yeah, looks good,” Dex said.
Their dad took a sip of the beer and sighed appreciatively. “Glad you could make some time for us,” he said. “I know this thing you’re doing is a lot.”
“Well, of course,” Dex said. “As if I’d let everybody but you meet Mosscap.”
“I don’t care about meeting the robot, goofball,” their dad said. He reconsidered. “I mean, I do care about meeting the robot, but I’m just happy you’re home.”
The robot in question made its way over a short while later, putting its pocket computer in its satchel to signal that it was done with that part of its night. “Am I interrupting?” Mosscap asked, stopping a few feet away.
“Not at all,” Dex’s dad said. “Though I can’t offer you a beer, huh?”
“You could,” Mosscap said. “But I couldn’t make use of it.”
“Can’t imagine it’d be good for your insides.”
“Oh, my insides wouldn’t care.” Mosscap sat down, laying claim to a wicker chair. “I’m waterproof.”
“Really?” Dex’s dad raised his eyebrows with amusement. “That must come in handy.”
Mosscap’s lenses contracted, and it burst out laughing.
“What?” said Dex.
The robot pointed with glee. “You do the same thing,” it said to Dex. “With your eyebrows. You look exactly the same when you do that. Ha!” It clasped its hands together before its chest. “Genetics are such a delight.”
Dex and their dad glanced at each other and started laughing as well. “I’ve always told them I have delightful genes,” their dad joked, gesturing at Dex with his bottle. “Nice to finally have someone around here who appreciates that.” He looked between them both and smiled warmly, shaking his head. “It really is incredible that you ran into each other.” He took another sip and looked at Dex. “Were you camping out in the Borderlands, or what?”
As a rule, Dex didn’t like lying. They didn’t imagine that anyone did, aside from a rare few who needed some help, but much as they knew that it would leave a bad taste in their mouth, they nonetheless slid easily into something untrue. “Yeah,” Dex said, turning toward the field. “Yeah, just needed to get off the highway for a couple nights, take a break.”