Free I Heart Robot by Suzanne Van Rooyen Page B

teach her. Said she’d pay me.”
    “That’s … ” Sal smooths her face into blankness.
    “Incomprehensible?”
    “Indeed.” She scratches at the dragon inked onto her scalp.
    “This could be good for me. Earn some real money.”
    “It’s too dangerous spending that much time alone with a human.”
    I ease into the hammock beside her. “Let’s make a list of pros and cons.”
    “Pros. You get paid and quit sponging off me.” She thumps my shoulder with a gentle fist.
    “I earn enough to afford a core upgrade or a new violin.”
    “Core upgrade first. You’re all patched out until then.”
    “Fine. So that’s a pro. Spending time with a human might be a good learning opportunity too.”
    “Observing emotional displays, expressions, reactions, speech patterns. That kind of assimilation is more potent than any patch.” Sal agrees.
    “Exactly.” There’s a tingle of excitement in my synapses.
    “But,” Sal says.
    “But, being alone and close to a human—under constant scrutiny—means one misstep could reveal my true nature. She’s the chatty type. Asks a lot of questions.”
    “What’s your truth module like?”
    “I’m a terrible liar.”
    “Don’t lie then, bend the truth.”
    “Aren’t they the same thing?” We stare at each other, both searching for an answer.
    “I thought companion-droids could lie. Kit does,” she says.
    “My owners wanted to keep me honest.”
    “Your owners were the bacteria that grows on shit in a bucket.”
    A grin splits my face as Sal takes my hand and rolls up my sleeve, inspecting my unblemished skin.
    “Why would you want scars?” She asks.
    “Sometimes I thought that if the wounds didn’t heal, if I’d had scars, they’d be less inclined to do what they did. If I’d been human, they wouldn’t have hurt me.”
    “You really think that?”
    I shrug and smooth down my shirt.
    “Human or robot, I don’t think it would’ve mattered to psychopaths like that.” Sal keeps hold of my hand as we peer into the afternoon already darkening around the edges. Soon the day will be reduced to a mere five hours of twilight.
    “I don’t think they were psychopaths.”
    “Sadists at the least. You said they got off on hurting you.”
    I nod, trying to quell the rushing tide of memories.
    “You think seeing your scars would’ve made them hurt you less? I reckon it would’ve made them hurt you more.”
    Maybe Sal’s right, but part of me wants to believe that being human would’ve made everything better. “Doesn’t mean I should hate all humans because of what my owners did.”
    “I would.”
    “You hate humans?”
    Sal deliberates before answering. “There’s not a lot to love about them.”
    For a long moment, we sit in silence, and I contemplate all the reasons why I wish I were human. To be able to breathe and bleed, to live and die. If I were mortal, I’d have a life, and I’d be able to make that life mean something. Without a soul, robots merely exist. We don’t matter, not as individuals at least, and not for any reasons I’d want to be remembered. The only legacy I can leave is the possibility of recyclable parts.
    “I think you should go for it.” Sal breaks the silence. “Teach this girl. Even if she finds out you’re a robot, the point is proven. Humans can learn from us. We are not second class citizens.”
    “We’re not citizens at all yet.” I run a hand through my hair, too late remembering the goo slicking down the strands. Doubt I’ll be using gel again.
    “That’ll change,” Sal says. “One way or another, kiddo. It’s the age of the android now. Humans just don’t know yet it.”
     
     
    ***
     
     
    “How’d it go?” Kit pops his head into my hut. The string of LEDs strung across my ceiling lends him a yellow halo he doesn’t deserve.
    “Why do you even care?”
    He glares at me until I break eye contact. Kit has never not cared, despite our vastly different views on life.
    “It was interesting,” I