“I don’t know,” Mosscap said.
Dex’s dad frowned. “What happens when you run out of stuff to rebuild with?”
“Then we go extinct, so to speak,” Mosscap said. “Just as everything does. Just as humans will, one day. No other living thing knows when their line will come to an end, so we haven’t bothered to calculate it, either. That would do more harm than good, I think.”
This answer clearly surprised Dex’s dad, who had the same thrown-off look most people did whenever Mosscap made comments of that sort. “So…” He took a moment to reestablish his conversational footing. “You have all your basics. Just like we have here.”
“In essence, yes.”
“Well, that’s good to hear,” Dex’s dad said. “But you keep asking us the question, even though you know our basics are covered. So, then: what do you need, Mosscap? You, personally.”
Dex watched as Mosscap struggled to answer this, its head whirring as loudly as a kicked hive. “This is going to sound foolish, I’m sure, but I hadn’t thought to consider it before,” Mosscap said. “I … I don’t have an answer for that. I’m sorry, but I don’t know.”
Dex’s dad shrugged, not fussed either way. “Well, if you do, at some point, I’d love to know what it is,” he said amicably. “But I’m glad you’re all okay out there.” He sipped his beer and leaned once more against the railing, resuming his contented repose.
Dex tried to do the same. They made it look as though they had, behaving no outwardly different than before. But inside, something began to coil around itself. Despite how much they loved the good man standing beside them, part of them wished they were back on the road.
6
THE DETOUR
This should have been the easy part. It was a straight shot from the Shrubland villages to the City, and the road between was smooth as could be. There were no big hills, no rough spots, no need to camp along the way. Just a half-day ride from here to there, and at the end, they’d find all the delights that had drawn Dex to the City in the first place: restaurants, museums, art galleries, rooftop patios and vertical forests, farms built underground, gardens that nearly touched the clouds, artwork painted on buildings, buildings that were artwork in their own right, music and theater and spectacle and light and ideas and color and walkable streets that were never, ever the same twice, no matter how often your feet followed them. Mosscap would love the City, Dex knew. There were dozens of places they were excited to share with it. And much as their schedule was starting to make Dex sweat, it was important for Mosscap to visit the University, the libraries, the monasteries—everywhere that served as a nesting ground for people whose whole lives revolved around understanding the past or shaping the future. The City was the center of Panga’s nervous system, the locus where every thread that ran through the world braided together. Mosscap had come out of the wilderness to ask questions. There was no better place for that purpose than this.
And yet: every push of the ox-bike’s pedals felt as difficult as it had been out in the wilds, slogging up the oil road. It wasn’t a matter of physical exhaustion. Dex was well rested, well fed, fit as could be. But as their body moved forward, everything within tugged back, and the longer the morning went on, the more frenzied that silent fight became.
Mosscap was uncharacteristically silent alongside them, and Dex had no desire to make small talk. The air between them was heavy enough as it was, thick with bugs and things unsaid. The feeling became denser as they headed onward, and Dex couldn’t stand its weight any more than they knew how to break it.
It was the robot, in the end, who knocked the wall down. Mosscap stopped in the middle of the road, standing in the sunny space between two wildlife corridors that arched over the creamy pavement. “Sibling Dex, I am wondering if there are any sandy beaches around here,” it blurted out. “It occurs to me that given the time of year, we’re in the thick of marblehead laying season, and it’s something I’ve never seen, and I know that particular species of turtle is endemic to this part of Panga, and … I … I was just wondering.”
Dex stopped the bike, put their feet down, and looked back. They and Mosscap stared at each other from their short distance apart, eye to eye, unwavering. “Do you mean … you wanna go now?” Dex said slowly.
“I…” Mosscap fidgeted with the strap of its satchel, its many belongings clattering against one another. “The turtles only come out during a full planetrise, and that is today, so I … I know we are meant to arrive in the City this afternoon, but I wonder if it would make that much difference if we were a day late.” It fixed the buckle on the satchel’s strap, which did not need fixing.