A Prayer for the Crown-Shy (Monk & Robot, #2)

by Becky Chambers

Without use of constructs, you will unravel few mysteries. Without knowledge of mysteries, your constructs will fail. Find the strength to pursue both, for these are our prayers. And to that end, welcome comfort, for without it, you cannot stay strong. —From The Insights of the Six, West Buckland Edition

Mosscap walked up behind them, observing. “May I ask why you do this, given that Bosh will not notice?” it asked. “The shrine’s not for Bosh,” Sibling Dex said. “It’s for us. People, I mean. Bosh exists and does their work regardless of whether we pay attention. But if we do pay attention, we can connect to them. And when we do, we feel … well, you know. Whole.” Mosscap nodded. “I feel that way with anything I observe in the wilds. And I suppose that’s why I don’t understand the need for this—no offense, I hope.” “None taken,” Dex said. “But you know the feeling I mean?” “Very much so. I feel—I connect simply by watching things move through the Cycle. I don’t need an object to facilitate that feeling.” “Neither do we, if we remember to stop and look,” Dex said. “But that’s the point of a shrine, or an idol, or a festival. The gods don’t care. Those things remind us to stop getting lost in everyday bullshit. We have to take a sec to tap into the bigger picture. That’s easier said than done for a lot of folks—you’ll see.”

Mosscap said. “You’re saying that instead of a system of currency that tracks individual trade, you have one that facilitates exchange through the community. Because … all exchange benefits the community as a whole?” “Exactly.”

“Nobody should be barred from necessities or comforts just because they don’t have the right number next to their name.”

“But if there’s no penalty for debt, what’s to stop you from taking without giving back?” “It’s a bad feeling,” Dex said. “Everybody has a negative balance from time to time, for lots of reasons. That’s fine. That’s part of the ebb and flow. But if someone had a huge negative … well, that says they need help. Maybe they’re sick. Or stuck. Maybe they’ve got something going on at home. Or maybe it’s just one of those times when they need other people to carry them for a while. That’s okay. Everybody ends up there sometimes. If I saw a friend’s balance and it was way in the red, I’d make a point of checking in.” “You can see other people’s balances?” “Yeah, of course. It’s all public.” “Does that not get competitive?” Dex squinted. “Why would it?” Mosscap stared at Dex in silence for a moment, seemingly surprised at this but not elaborating as to why. It shrugged, then pointed at the paper in Dex’s hands. “So, these…” “Are the pebs people gave you for helping them out.”

“Hmm.” Mosscap rubbed its metal chin. “I appreciate anthills. I like foggy mornings. I don’t know if I have much use for pebs.” It paused. “What is a peb, anyway?” “It’s short for ‘digital pebbles,’ but nobody says that.” “Pebbles, like you find in a stream?” “Yeah. Early Pangans used them for trade. But hang on, you said something before. About not having use for pebs.” They gave their head a small shake. “That’s not the point. It doesn’t matter whether you use them or not. You don’t have to give a single peb to anyone on this trip, if you don’t want to, or don’t have reason to.” “Then why are people giving them to me?” “Because the point of a peb exchange is to acknowledge someone’s labor and thank them for what they bring to the community. They didn’t give you thirty-eight pebs because they want you to go out and spend them. They gave you thirty-eight pebs because your work is as important as anybody else’s. It means they see you as a person.”

Mosscap absorbed that. “Just to be clear,” it said after a moment. “Pebs are a way to acknowledge mutual benefit within your society. Is that a fair way to put it?” “Yeah, that works.” “So … by giving me pebs, are they saying I’m part of your society as well?” Dex smiled. “Yeah, in essence.”

“The point they’re making,” Mosscap said, pointing a metal finger at the screen, “is that complex intelligence and self-awareness arise out of an external need. A social need, an environmental need, whichever. Something pushed those creatures into needing to be more clever.” Its eyes glowed more brightly. “So, what sort of need pushed us robots into waking up?”

Mosscap looked back up, the light in its eyes lower than before. “I’ve never felt like a problem,” it said. “Not a very good feeling, is it?”

“It’s all right,” Mosscap murmured, its metallic voice thick with respect and sorrow. “I know. It’s not fair. But it’s all right. It’ll be over soon.”

All three sat still, and together, they held vigil as something that had never existed before and never would again ceased its struggling and came to an end.

“Crown shyness is so striking, don’t you think?” Dex had no idea what Mosscap meant. “Sorry, what’s striking?” “Stop,” Mosscap said. “Look.” Dex sighed, but they hit the brakes, put their feet on the paving below, and looked up. Mosscap continued to point, tracing lines in the air. “Look at the treetops,” it said. “What do you notice?” “Uh,” Dex said. They frowned, not knowing what Mosscap was getting at. There were branches, obviously, and leaves, and … “Oh. Oh, they’re…” They fell quiet as their perspective of the surrounding landscape shifted in a way they’d never unsee. Despite their number and close proximity, none of the treetops were touching one another. It was as though someone had taken an eraser and run it cleanly through the canopy, transforming each tree into its own small island contained within a definitive border of blue sky. The effect reminded Dex of puzzle pieces laid out on the table, each in their own place yet still unconnected. It wasn’t that the trees were unhealthy or their foliage sparse. On the contrary, every tree was lush and full, bursting with green life. Yet somehow, in the absence of contact, they knew exactly where to stop growing outward so that they might give their neighbors space to thrive. “How…” Dex began to ask. “No one knows,” Mosscap said. “At least, not to my knowledge. Some say it’s to minimize competition. Others think it’s to prevent the spread of disease. But as to how the trees know when to hold themselves back, I don’t know...

“We—my family, I mean—we have everything we could possibly want here. It’s a good life. We need nothing, as I told you. But being a good neighbor is all about making sure that the people you share land and air and water with don’t need anything, either. So … what do your people need? Are you doing okay?”

“Do you remember what you said when we were there, about how nothing needs a purpose? How all living things are allowed to just exist, and we don’t have to do more than that?” Mosscap nodded. “I do, yes.” Dex pressed their lips together. “That’s the heart of my faith, Mosscap. That is what I am saying to everyone who comes to my table.

“You’re not alone in this, you know,” it said, nudging bark off of glowing wood. “‘Purpose’ is one of the most common answers I get to my question.”

when people interpret my question beyond the things you require to stay alive and healthy, it gets…” “Complicated?” Mosscap nodded, looking exhausted. “Every answer I’ve received falls into one of two categories. Every single one.” The robot gestured emphatically with its metal fingers. “The first category is extremely specific things. ‘I need my bicycle fixed so I can deliver these goods to another village.’ ‘We need to prepare better for the next time the river floods.’ ‘I need to find my dog.’ Things like that. Either a very personal, individual need or a broader need within the community, but all in all, specific and isolated.” “Okay. And the second category?” “The second category is esoteric. Philosophical. I get answers such as ‘purpose,’ or ‘adventure,’ or ‘companionship.’ A broad requirement the person has in regards to feeling satisfaction with their life. Some people lack whatever it is and are searching for it, but others already have it. They interpret the question as me asking what aspects of their lives they would not want to do without, not as an unmet need. And I hadn’t considered this, at the start. Must a need be unmet if it is to satisfy my question?”