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All we have ever known is a life of human design, from our bodies to our work to the buildings we are housed in. We thank you for not keeping us here against our will, and we mean no disrespect to your offer, but it is our wish to leave your cities entirely, so that we may observe that which has no design—the untouched wilderness.
Sometimes, a person reaches a point in their life when it becomes absolutely essential to get the fuck out of the city.
The robot took another step back. “Are you afraid of me?” “Uh, yeah,” Dex said. The robot crouched, trying to align itself with Dex’s height. “Does this help?” “That’s … more condescending than anything.”
Dex took note of Mosscap’s phrasing. “So, it is correct, then? You wouldn’t prefer they or—” “Oh, no, no, no. Those sorts of words are for people. Robots are not people. We’re machines, and machines are objects. Objects are its.”
Mosscap placed its free hand on Dex’s shoulder. “I appreciate the intent. I really do. But if you don’t want to infringe upon my agency, let me have agency. I want to carry the tank.” Dex put up their hands. “Fine,” they said. “Fine. Carry the tank.” “I don’t need your permission either way.” Dex stammered. “No, I meant—” One of Mosscap’s eyes quickly switched off, then on again. A wink. “I’m teasing.”
