“Robots and water do not go well together. It is one of our only flaws. Moisture causes our metal to rust. If it invades our circuitry, it can end our lives.”

“Oh.”

Emma regarded the pools that were forming at the bottom of the tiny waterfalls. Spreading in all directions. Creeping closer/closer/closer to SkD and Ceeron. Their unmoving bodies were next to other charging stations, plugged in, frozen in sleep mode.

“We should probably wake them up, huh?” she said.

“That would be wise.”

Emma climbed out of her sleeping bag and scrambled toward SkD. Pulling its plug caused the small robot to shudder to life. As soon as its screen flickered on, symbols appeared.

It took me 0.3 seconds to recognize the meaning of these images. SkD was referencing an old human expression.

It is raining cats and dogs.

I unplugged myself. Getting to my feet, I did the same for Ceeron. As soon as the power cable was removed from its back, the light returned to its eyes.

Ceeron looked at me. And spoke its first words in many hours. “What are you wearing?”

A memory blinked in my programming. Last night. Bermuda Bob’s.

I found the nearest unbroken window. My reflection appeared in the glass. I looked familiar/unfamiliar at the same time. I was still wearing the clothing from last night. The wide-brimmed hat and flower-print shirt.

A word blinked in my vocabulary drive. Silly. That summed up how I looked.

It is a good thing robots are not programmed to feel embarrassment.

01001000

We went inside the mall to escape the rain.

Eventually, the storm moved on. So did we.

The world outside glistened with fresh rain. The sun reflected in every puddle. Water clung to the trees, to the ruined buildings, to the streets. It increased the intensity of every color. The greens were greener. The browns were browner.

Inside Ceeron’s backpack were the things that Emma had gathered in the mall. Extra clothing, blankets, supplies.

We followed the path of an old human road. We kept to the pavement, avoiding the treacherous/wet/muddy ground.

The mountains rose all around us. I gazed up at them. I had looked at this mountain range every day of my life. Not once had I thought of walking through it.

Five minutes later, a message arrived from my FamilyUnit.

XR_935:

Where are you?

You did not return home last night. Or this morning.

The Hive is concerned. So are we.

Please send a message indicating your whereabouts immediately.

I stopped walking. I reread the message 2,857 times. Their worried words echoed through my operating system.

But how should I respond?

I have said already: Robots are terrible at secrets. Ever since setting out on this journey, the number of secrets in my life had multiplied. I could not tell my FamilyUnit where I was. Or who I was with. Or what we were doing.

I reread the message another thousand times.