At The Edge of The City

We slowly made our way over to the town. It was still in the distance, but my hunger grew once again. So when I spied the lone food stall amid the trees, I couldn't help but bring Lottie to an abrupt stop.

"We're getting food," I said.

"We are restocking, right?"

"No. Just... food."

The toasted bread had been divine, but not enough. I needed more to fill me up, to get rid of that anxious energy inside of me.

"We'll get to the town in just a bit, I promise."

The food stall was small, smaller even than Lottie was, but just as old, if not even older. The metal on the outside was scratched and dented, shining in only a few select places (probably for good luck). A few bots were on the ground, beeping and booping, their model and use unclear to me. They were probably just as old as the food stand.

"Admiring my photobots?"

A young man came over to them, grinning widely. "They're great, right?"

"Yeah." I blinked, trying to figure out their model, but my lenses were having problems with that. "What model are they?"

"I made them myself," he said, pride in his voice. "All designed and produced by me."

"Wow." I crouched down next to one.

That's why they were so odd. Their legs were a little uneven, and their camera lenses were spinning around more than they needed to, clearly. One was fixed on a bug on a leaf of grass, longer than it should be, really. Another let out beep after boop after bop, trilling a song similar to the birds in the forest.

"So, what do they do?"

"They exist."

He crouched down next to me. "Isn't that amazing?"

I looked at the bot again. It wasn't perfect - far from it, really. It wasn't made from the right material, and it was crooked, and soldered quite amateurish. No proper robot producing company would put out a bot like that.

I had never seen anything like it before.

"When did you start doing this?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Since I can think. It's the one thing that has accompanied through all of my life."

"Amazing. And you design these for a living?"

He shook his head and laughed. "Oh no. No, no, no. I've tried that, and it nearly destroyed my love for these little things. No, I make food. Quite tasty, if I may say so myself."

"So, you craft these robots and make food?" Emelyse nodded in understanding. "So Terrans can have different talents."

"Shhhh!"

I glared at her. Why did she have to make it so obvious she wasn't from here? She looked at me, and then, as if remembering something, twirled around.

"I am hungry," she said instead.

"Me too! So, what do you offer?" I quickly asked. "And, uh, what's your name?"

"I'm Ricke," he said. "Come with me."

His food stall was surprisingly comfortable. He had some soft, yet sturdy chairs on the outside, which only wobbled as I sat down, but quickly leveled again.

"Today, I have my specialty curry," he said. "Only three credits!"

"We'll take two, then," I said. "What's in it?"

"That's a secret." He winked at me. "Do you have any allergies?"

"Nope."

"And how about you?"

Emelyse shook her head.

"Great! Then I'll get two plates ready for you. Mind telling me your names, by the way?"

"Oh, right. I'm Toma, and this is Emelyse."

"Well, it's great to meet you two. You're traveling?"

He turned around, and produced two massive plates. The curry had a rich, deep brown color, with different sized and colored chunks swimming in the sauce. The rice, on the other hand, was steaming and fluffy. My mouth watered once more. I couldn't wait to dig in, and simply nodded at his question.

"Then you should check out the Night Market. It's one of the things Old Brooks is known for," Ricke continued. "There are some great food stalls in the city as well. But I still prefer it here."

"Do you get many customers?" I asked between two bites.

"Not really. Enough to make a living."

His gaze trailed over to the bots.

"And I still have enough time to tinker with my bots."

"Do you sell them?"

"Oh, no. I don't think I could, ever." His expression grew softer, fonder. "I just want to spend the rest of my time with them."

"Nothing is stopping you from that, right?"

"You're right, Toma. Isn't that great?"

I nodded, once more. Even when I tried to focus on my bites, the different flavors and textures, it was difficult to stay in the present.

Ricke clearly had found something that he treasured above all else. Even if his food was great, it wasn't what he was here for. And he didn't want to dedicate his time to something greater. Just here with his robots.

For a moment, I pictured myself, lying on an open field, somewhere, surrounded by my robots. No, this wasn't quite right. But I felt a strange ache, a sense of something that could become more. Could become my future, even. Briefly, a familiar orange flashed by, but I quickly shook my head free from that. I shouldn't get too attached to something that was going to be recycled.

Once more, I looked at Ricke, and he looked back at me, patient, waiting. He could tell that I wanted to say something, but I hesitated. Should I share with him that I was going to get rid of Lottie? That this was the whole purpose of my travels?

No, it felt too cruel. And there was a pang of guilt, as well.

Instead, I bowed my head down once more and shoveled my mouth full with curry. It was hot. It was the best curry I had ever tasted.

Behind Ricke, I spied several other robots, clearly made by him, that assisted with his cooking. Just like the robots playing (or whatever else they were doing) in the grass, these robots were perfectly imperfect.

"Do they have names?" I wondered out loud.

"Of course! Over here, we have Sparkles, this is Matt, here we have 0101, and this is Gregor."

He pointed at the different robots, all giving a little noise or wave of acknowledgment before they got back to their task.

"They... really look alive."

He blinked at me, as if he couldn't understand what I just said. "Of course. To me, they are alive."

"Huh."

I cherished my bots, maybe not as much as him, but definitely more than most people. But I never saw them as truly alive - rather, they were something different from me. Something to be cherished, sure, but also to be collected. To be maintained and looked at, and sometimes to be put to good use. But alive?

Ricke clearly cared a lot about his bots. Was it because he had made them? Or did he cherish them all, company-made or DIYed?

Next to me, Emelyse had already finished her plate, and was now taking more notes in her little device. At least she got something out of this, as well. She was looking from her device to the bots, wrote something, and looked at the bots again. She was clearly thinking hard, but I had no idea what exactly she was thinking about. So I asked her just that.

"Huh? Oh, you two made me think," she said. "About these robots being alive."

"Oh. And what conclusion did you come to?"

"These bots are different from yours, Toma."

I shook my head. "Well, yes, but also, no. My bots are great."

"I didn't mean to imply that. It was a simple observation."

Ricke came to us, and took our empty plates. "Well, if you're ever here again, I'd love to talk more about bots with you two. It's my favorite thing, you know."

"I... love bots as well. Even though I don't make them."

"Well, that doesn't diminish the love, does it?" He smiled at me. "As I said, you're welcome to talk bots with me any time."

I nodded quickly. "I'd love to. Can we... exchange contacts?"

He grinned. "Sure! You too, Emelyse?"

But she shook her head. "I can't do that, unfortunately."

For a moment, he looked at her, but then decided against saying something.

"That's fine with me. Toma?"

We pressed the buttons on our suits together, and after that brief interaction, my contact list was longer than before.

He grinned at us. "You should go, now, if you want to get to the Market on time."