“What would you like to me do, shoot it?” Nasir said.

“Yes!”

“Believe me, I’d like to . . .” Nasir muttered.

The golden man and its procession went on.

“What about our fee?” Saleh said to Mukhtar.

“Eh?” the man said, startled.

“Yes,” Anubis said. “For use of our canister in your repairs.”

“I kind of wish I didn’t make that deal now . . .” Mukhtar said.

“The robot did pay you,” Anubis pointed out.

“Yes, yes,” Mukhtar said. “But if we’re all going to be dead soon, what difference does it make? Such a shame, too. I could have sold it as a relic for a record price. I would have made the cover of Artefact Collectors’ Monthly . . .” He sank into a reverie.

“The fee?” Anubis said.

“Right, right,” Mukhtar said. “Of course.” He brought out a disc, whispered some instructions in the virtuality, then handed it over. “There you go.”

“Thank you,” Saleh said softly. His eyes filled with silent tears, but he did not wipe them away. Mukhtar nodded in understanding, and Saleh squared his shoulders. He pocketed the chip.

The procession continued on its way to the sea. The ferry terminal was packed with citizens clamouring to get a good look at events. In the virtuality the Others watched, but they said nothing: this, they seemed to suggest, was a matter for people and robots to decide.

The golden man came to the shores of the Red Sea, and there it stopped.

Out on the promenade a small child, running, saw it and came to an abrupt stop.

“Hey, mister,” she said. “Are you going to space?”

“Space?” the golden man said. “Yes,” it said. “Yes, I suppose I am.”

“Neat,” the child said. Then she stuck out her tongue at the golden man and was gone.

A large mecha came to stand by the robot, who looked up at it in surprise.

“Esau!” the robot said.

Esau nodded. “Hello, old friend,” he said.

“I am sorry we left you, all that time ago,” the robot said.

“No hard feelings,” Esau said. “How did it all work out with the Fondly?”

“It is still out there, somewhere, I think,” the robot said. “Still getting into trouble.”

“The poor thing,” Esau said. They stood together in companionable silence.

“If we’re all going to die,” Nasir said, and then he leaned in gently and kissed Mariam.

She kissed him back, laughing.

“I don’t think we’re going to die,” she said. “But look.”

They looked. The golden man raised its hands, and the Red Sea, which was filled to the brim with the waste and remains of smart matter, began to part at its command.

“Where will you go?” Mariam said to the robot.

It turned and looked at her. “I do not know,” it said. “Somewhere where bombs can dream of sheep.”