“Well, you’ll learn fast. It’s gonna be like this most places we go.” Dex winced as they pedaled on. Cheery as the decor was, Dex’s calves were groaning, and it was hard to focus on anything else. The ride to Stump hadn’t been a difficult one, but it had been long, and their body was ready to be done.
At last, the village came into view. Stump was like most towns in the Woodlands, characterized by nest-like treehouses, hanging bridges, and the faint sulfuric smell of the hot springs that kept the place warm and powered. The market square was one of the few features anchored to the ground, and though it was busy every time Dex came through, they’d never seen the place so full. Not a single resident of Stump was elsewhere that day. A crowd of about a hundred people had assembled, dressed as though it were a holiday. Audible gasps arose as Mosscap came into view. Nervous laughter joined the chorus, and a few cries from children quickly hushed by parents. The gathered faces were eager, welcoming, awestruck. Not a one of them seemed sure of what to do.
A middle-aged woman took a step forward. Dex knew her, in a general sense—Ms. Waverly, one of the regular members of the village council. She was not these people’s leader in any capacity, for like most villages, Stump had no such thing. She was the sort who spoke up when others weren’t sure how to, and that’s exactly what she did then. “You must be Mosscap,” she said with a sparkling smile. “Welcome to Stump.”
Mosscap nodded, its own eyes glowing friendly blue. “Thank you very much,” Mosscap said. “And thank you for the sign over the road. I’ve never had a sign before, and it’s quite—”
Somewhere in the crowd, a dog began to bark. Dex couldn’t see it, but it sounded big.
Mosscap was instantly distracted, turning its head straight toward the sound. “Is that a dog?” it asked, excitement entering its voice. “A domesticated dog?”
“Yeah,” Dex said. They kept their attention on Ms. Waverly. “Thanks so much for the welcome, we—”
The dog continued to bark.
“Is it all right?” Mosscap asked.
“It’s just a little scared of you,” Dex said. “It doesn’t understand what you are.”
The dog kept barking, and its accompanying people tried and failed to make it quiet down. “Gods around, I told you we shouldn’t bring him,” one said.
“Biscuit, hush,” said the other.
Biscuit did not hush. Biscuit did not like this.
The dog’s keepers were embarrassed, and the crowd was annoyed, but Mosscap didn’t seem to notice either of these things. The robot was transfixed by the sound, and leaned its head toward Dex. “Are domesticated dogs anything like river wolves?”
“Ish,” Dex said. They flicked their eyes toward Ms. Waverly, who no longer seemed sure of what to do. This wasn’t the greeting anybody had envisioned. “They’re friendlier by a mile, but yeah, they’re kind of like them.”
“If I lie down on the ground and show my belly, will that help?” Mosscap asked.
“I mean … maybe? I—”
Mosscap headed toward the noise, and the crowd parted before it, gawking at its seven-foot frame.
Biscuit, it turned out, was a barrel-shaped chunk of a mutt whose body communicated a long ancestry of creatures bred to keep humans safe from things that go bump in the night. His keeper held the animal firmly by a woven leash, and muttered something in awkward apology.
Without hesitation, Mosscap lay flat on the ground, face up, hands brought to rest against plated shoulders in a display of supplication. “It’s all right,” Mosscap said to the person holding the leash. “Let him come here.”
Biscuit’s human hesitated but let the leash go. The dog charged forward, bellowing in baritone. Mosscap did not mind. It lay still, letting Biscuit bark spittle onto its face.
The dog’s demeanor began to shift as the robot remained passive. The barks became punctuated with mollified grumbles, which evolved further into curious sniffing. Mosscap seemed utterly at ease with this, unconcerned about making the villagers wait. The dog, in that moment, came first.
Slowly, Mosscap moved one of its hands and brought it before Biscuit’s snout. Biscuit allowed this, and sniffed. Mosscap moved its hand back to the dog’s neck. Biscuit allowed this as well. Mosscap flexed its fingers and scritched.
Biscuit definitely allowed this.
“Oh, there we go,” Mosscap said happily. “Ha ha ha, yes—oh, yes, there you go.” The robot scritched harder as the dog leaned in and wagged his tail. “Yes, I agree, we’re friends now.”