“I made a promise,” the robot said.

“Fool,” the soul said again. Then it fell quiet.

The robot closed its hand over the soul. It lifted it gently, then opened its mouth and swallowed. The soul vanished with a soft effect of pixelated diffusion.

The robot turned to Mariam.

“Thank you,” it said.

“For what?” Mariam said.

“For helping me, when you don’t have to,” the robot said. “For being kind. I am not used to kindness.”

Mariam was touched, but didn’t know how to show it. She just nodded.

The robot nodded back. It turned to leave, and Mariam thought that she still had no understanding of it, of what it wanted, what it wished; what drove it.

But perhaps it didn’t matter. Small kindnesses, not large: like a freely given flower.

“Wait,” she said, on impulse. But the robot was already gone.

12. The Shake

Nasir was sitting facing the door when he saw the robot come in.

The robot stood framed in the harsh sunlight from outside and its face was in shadow. Nasir sipped noisily on his milkshake. He had liked them since he was a little boy.

The robot approached, and Nasir sighed. He liked to come to Bashir’s Shakes at that hour of the day, after a shift, when it was quiet. He always took a booth. He did not like being disturbed.

“You do not like me much, do you?” the robot said. It remained standing and waited our Nasir.

“Why are you here?” Nasir said, seeing that the robot wouldn’t go away.

“Here, in Neom?” the robot said. “Here, on Earth? Here, as in existing? Why do any of us exist?”

“Here,” Nasir said. “Why would you come here unless you drank milkshakes.”

“Oh,” the robot said. “I see. You are right. I do not usually consume mammary secretions. I can, of course, if I choose. It can still be turned into energy to power me. That is one way we robots were built. We can eat anything, if eat is the right word. But what is eating if not converting matter into energy? Humans do it, and so we do it. Yes, I will have a milkshake. Is there any flavour you would recommend?”

Nasir sighed again. “I like strawberry,” he said.

“Very well,” the robot said. “I will have that, too.” It signalled to Bashir, who hurried over.

“One strawberry shake of your finest, please,” the robot said. Bashir looked to Nasir, who nodded, and the proprietor withdrew.

“He seeks your approval,” the robot observed. “Would you mind if I sat?”

“He worries,” Nasir said, “about having a strange robot known for killing people come wandering into his house. And I do mind if you sit, but I don’t suppose that will stop you so, please, do what you want.”

“Thank you.”

The robot pulled out a chair and sat opposite Nasir. It looked around.

“It is pleasant here,” it said.