Mosscap’s lenses shifted at this.
Dex’s dad, a man who valued the occasional night alone in a tent, nodded with understanding. “I’ve had neighbors ask the craziest shit about you,” he said. “People think you were all the way out in the Antlers, or whatever.” He laughed. “It’s weird, kiddo, hearing rumors around the market about you.”
Dex could feel Mosscap staring at them, asking a silent question. They ignored it. “Yeah, well, you know how people talk.” They shrugged and sipped their beer with nonchalance.
Dex’s dad took a swig as well, then turned his attention to Mosscap. “So! On to the City tomorrow?”
“That is the plan,” Mosscap said.
“Is it true they’re throwing a parade?” Dex’s dad asked.
“Uh,” Dex said slowly, “not to my knowledge.” Gods around, they weren’t really, were they?
“Hmm. I heard talk that they were, but … I mean, who knows?” Their dad shrugged and looked back to Mosscap. “So, after that, then what?”
Mosscap cocked its head. “Sorry?”
Dex could tell that Mosscap had been caught off guard by the question, but his father took it to mean that Mosscap hadn’t heard him. “After the City, then what?” he repeated politely. He nodded toward Dex. “Will they lead you back home, or will you go on your own?”
“Oh.” Mosscap paused. “We … we hadn’t discussed, actually.”
“I figured we’d play it by ear,” Dex said, picking at the label on their bottle with their thumbnail. “I don’t know how long we’ll be there, so…” They trailed off.
“When was the last time you were in the City?” their dad asked.
“Uh…” Dex said, trying to remember. “About a year ago.”
“You planning to meet up with any friends?”
“I don’t know,” Dex said. “I’m sure I’ll see people around, but we’re so busy, y’know?”
“Will you do tea while you’re there?”
Another question Dex didn’t want to answer, but this one, they could dodge honestly. “No, I haven’t done tea since”—Dex gestured at Mosscap—“since we met.”
Their dad blinked with mild surprise. “Not at all? I figured you’d set up wherever you two stopped.”
“No, we, uh … like I said. We’ve been busy.” Dex took another sip and continued to focus on the fireflies.
To Dex’s surprise, Mosscap seized the opportunity to quickly step in. “Sibling Dex has been a wonderful guide,” the robot said. “They spend a great deal of time teaching me how everything in your society works. There’s so much I didn’t understand. So much I still don’t understand. I don’t know how I would have done any of this without them.”
Dex’s dad looked at them with all the love and warmth in the world. He reached over and ruffled their hair vigorously, like he used to do when Dex was little.
“Ugh, stop,” Dex said with a shy grin.
“It’s an amazing thing you’re doing,” their dad said seriously. “We’re really proud of you.” He gestured with his bottle at Mosscap. “And that reminds me. I’ve got a question for you.”
“Of course, Mr. Theo,” Mosscap said. “Anything you’d like to ask.”
Dex’s dad studied the robot with a contemplative look. “I’d like to ask you your question,” he said.
Mosscap’s lenses opened and closed, once. “What do you mean?”
“What do robots need?” Dex’s dad asked. The robot before him fell silent, so he expanded on the thought. “We—my family, I mean—we have everything we could possibly want here. It’s a good life. We need nothing, as I told you. But being a good neighbor is all about making sure that the people you share land and air and water with don’t need anything, either. So … what do your people need? Are you doing okay?”
“We’re not people,” Mosscap said, “but…” It was clearly at a loss, and stared off at nothing. “I … I haven’t considered this before. Yes, we’re … we’re doing just fine. Materially, we don’t require anything beyond a full battery, and we can provide that for ourselves. We have sufficient components to continue building new generations, for a time.”
“For a time?” Dex’s dad repeated. “How much time?”