“They’re probably scared of you,” Leo said. No doubt Skits made them uncomfortable. Probably the whole crew did. After all, they’d seen spaceships and robots before.

We came, took what we wanted, and left.

It wasn’t right, Leo knew. These creatures, the Orin, they might have been perfectly content to continue on without any knowledge of the galaxy beyond the edges of their blue sky. Content to imagine the twinkling lights hanging above them as little more than decoration, a scattering of celestial dust, or the thousand unblinking eyes of some benevolent god. Content to till only the topmost layer of their planet’s surface and not dig any deeper. But they weren’t given that option. That’s what you get, Leo thought, for having something somebody else wanted.

Leo heard a whine and saw Skits suddenly come to a grinding halt beside him, her right tread making a clunking, grating sound. “Ow, ow, ow,” she whined. “Mother clunker! I think I’ve got something caught in my tracks.”

Leo crouched down to inspect, wiping the sweat from his eyes. Sure enough, the robot had somehow managed to kick a stone up into the gearing of her exposed right tread, getting it wedged between interlocking teeth. “You stepped on a rock. See? I told you it hurts.”

“Meh-meh-meh-meh-meh,” Skits mocked. “Can you just try to get it out please so we don’t get stranded out here?”

“Yeah. Just go backward a little.” The robot switched gears and the chunk of stone loosened just enough for Leo to get his fingers around it and pluck it free. It was about the size of an apricot. Leo hadn’t had an apricot in more than three years. He couldn’t quite remember what they tasted like. More tart than sweet. Like the robot.

He held the rock up so Skits could see. “Souvenir?”

“You keep it,” she insisted. “Maybe you can throw it at somebody if we ever get in trouble again. You know, since you won’t carry a gun.”

Leo started to toss it, then reconsidered, shoving it in his pocket. Her tread working, Skits and Leo moved to catch up to the others.

“See? That’s exactly what I’m talking about,” she continued. “This is clearly no place for a robot.”

“You’d like Earth better,” Leo told her. “There are robots everywhere. Robot vacuums, robot dishwashers, robot waiters, robot taxis.”

“I don’t do vacuuming,” Skits insisted. “Or dishes. Though anything would be better than this. What’s it like there? On Earth, I mean?”

“Really? Baz hasn’t told you?” Leo would have thought the captain of the Icarus, with his old records and cartoon memories and slogan T-shirts, would have given Skits a databank full of stories about his home planet. After all, Leo knew he wasn’t the only one who had trouble letting go.

“He says there’s not enough parking and that nobody knows how to make a good rock song anymore, but other than that it’s the best place in the entire universe.”

“I don’t know about the parking,” Leo said. But he was right about the last part. It was the best. At least from what Leo had seen.