“We left the monastery in a hurry. The others came with us. We were like a family, and like a family we were once again bound in blood. We fled to the other side of the Dead Sea, to the Digitally Federated Lands of Judea Palestina. They’re strange over there, their land is interwoven like a quilt. We made our way to Central Station, where some of our kind had set up a mission. It is a great spaceport between the old city of Jaffa and the newer one of Tel Aviv. A busy place, shaped like a giant hourglass reaching out high into the skies, crowned with the firefly lights of departing and arriving craft flying between the Earth and orbit. An old priest, R. Brother Patch-It, took us in, albeit reluctantly. Word was out that the black-robed monks were after us. Well, I could not blame them. The Fondly was a picture of decorum. Lovely, really, other than the homicidal tendencies. The Jenkins was a bit of a people-pleaser. I guess some robots are just made that way. Always wanting to serve. It got into a theological discussion with R. Patch-It. I hate the R. designation and refuse to use it generally. Though, I took a name like that on Titan, where I died. . . . But that’s another story.

“R. Patch-It told us of the Way of Robot, which was only coming into definition then. Some followers of the Way were already preaching, much like Patch-It was. Many others were on their way to Mars. It was the beginning of the Robot hejira, our diaspora. The followers of the Eight Bit Way wanted to build a sort of heaven in the zero-point field. They were building a giant mind on Mars, in secret, to become their pope or god. It was hard to tell. I am not sure it ever amounted to much. Their Vatican is still there, in Tong Yun City.

“Jenkins wanted to make the hajj to Mars and join the priesthood. The Fondly was desperate to get off-planet. The Tasso was one of those chameleon models who looked like a female human. It was designed to infiltrate enemy troops. We all decided to go to Mars together. But the mecha, Esau, was too big. We had to say goodbye to it. I don’t know where Esau ended up. There are not many of the old mechas still roaming about the Earth. Wherever it is, I hope it is content.