A Prayer for the Crown-Shy (Monk and Robot #2 )(4)

“Don’t think of it that way,” Dex said. “You don’t have to do anything. You just have to be you. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you nervous.”

“Yes, well, you did, Sibling Dex.” The robot wrung its hands together, and the whir in its head grew louder. “I’ve never met any humans but you, and I know that doing so is rather the whole point of me being here, but now the enormity of it is hitting me, and—and—oh, I must seem so foolish.”

Dex shrugged. “Honestly, I’m just surprised it took you until we were ten minutes out to—”

“Ten minutes?!” Mosscap cried, clutching its face. “Oh, no. Oh, no.”

“Hey.” Dex laid a hand on the anxious machine’s forearm. The naked metal components were uniformly warm to the touch. “It’s gonna be fine. You’re gonna be fine. You’ll do great, in fact.”

Mosscap looked at them, its lenses expanded wide. “Do you think they’ll be afraid of me? Or … dislike me, perhaps?” It glanced down at its body. “Will they not like what I remind them of?”

“Maybe,” Dex said with gentle honesty. “But I highly doubt many of them will feel that way, and anyway, you don’t have to worry about that.”

“Why not?”

Dex smiled reassuringly. “Because I’ll be with you the whole way.”



* * *



Ten minutes later (give or take), Dex and Mosscap rounded a curve in the road and were met with an explosion of human decoration. A large banner hung from the branches, proclaiming WELCOME, ROBOT! in letters shaped from scrap fabric of varied patterns. The trunks below were wrapped with garlands of flowers and gem-like solar bulbs. There were ribbons, too, freshly tied and waving in the air as the wagon passed by.

“Is this all for me?” Mosscap asked, gazing around in wonder.

“What other robot would it be for?” Dex said.

Mosscap looked up at the banner as it walked below. “It’s very … effusive.”

“They’re excited,” Dex said. “They’ve never seen one of you before. They want to make a fuss.”

“Nobody’s ever made a fuss over me,” Mosscap said. “Come to think of it, I don’t really know what a fuss entails.”

“Well, you’ll learn fast. It’s gonna be like this most places we go.” Dex winced as they pedaled on. Cheery as the decor was, Dex’s calves were groaning, and it was hard to focus on anything else. The ride to Stump hadn’t been a difficult one, but it had been long, and their body was ready to be done.

At last, the village came into view. Stump was like most towns in the Woodlands, characterized by nest-like treehouses, hanging bridges, and the faint sulfuric smell of the hot springs that kept the place warm and powered. The market square was one of the few features anchored to the ground, and though it was busy every time Dex came through, they’d never seen the place so full. Not a single resident of Stump was elsewhere that day. A crowd of about a hundred people had assembled, dressed as though it were a holiday. Audible gasps arose as Mosscap came into view. Nervous laughter joined the chorus, and a few cries from children quickly hushed by parents. The gathered faces were eager, welcoming, awestruck. Not a one of them seemed sure of what to do.

A middle-aged woman took a step forward. Dex knew her, in a general sense—Ms. Waverly, one of the regular members of the village council. She was not these people’s leader in any capacity, for like most villages, Stump had no such thing. She was the sort who spoke up when others weren’t sure how to, and that’s exactly what she did then. “You must be Mosscap,” she said with a sparkling smile. “Welcome to Stump.”

Mosscap nodded, its own eyes glowing friendly blue. “Thank you very much,” Mosscap said. “And thank you for the sign over the road. I’ve never had a sign before, and it’s quite—”

Somewhere in the crowd, a dog began to bark. Dex couldn’t see it, but it sounded big.

Mosscap was instantly distracted, turning its head straight toward the sound. “Is that a dog?” it asked, excitement entering its voice. “A domesticated dog?”

“Yeah,” Dex said. They kept their attention on Ms. Waverly. “Thanks so much for the welcome, we—”

The dog continued to bark.

“Is it all right?” Mosscap asked.

“It’s just a little scared of you,” Dex said. “It doesn’t understand what you are.”

The dog kept barking, and its accompanying people tried and failed to make it quiet down. “Gods around, I told you we shouldn’t bring him,” one said.

“Biscuit, hush,” said the other.

Biscuit did not hush. Biscuit did not like this.

The dog’s keepers were embarrassed, and the crowd was annoyed, but Mosscap didn’t seem to notice either of these things. The robot was transfixed by the sound, and leaned its head toward Dex. “Are domesticated dogs anything like river wolves?”

“Ish,” Dex said. They flicked their eyes toward Ms. Waverly, who no longer seemed sure of what to do. This wasn’t the greeting anybody had envisioned. “They’re friendlier by a mile, but yeah, they’re kind of like them.”

“If I lie down on the ground and show my belly, will that help?” Mosscap asked.