Page 18 of Dustwalker

It reminded her of what she’d found earlier. Folding the remaining meat into her mouth, she crouched and opened her bag, removing the picture frame. Fortunately, though the bag was damp, the photo had been spared. As she carried the frame to the shelves, she noticed the bot holding the porcelain shard she’d found yesterday between its fingers, examining it with a furrowed brow. The bot seemed…confused.

Lara placed the photo on the top shelf, leaning the frame against the wall. Stepping back, she observed it as a piece of her larger collection, finding it beautiful despite the wear and damage it had suffered.

“That world is lost to all of us,” the bot said.

“No shit,” Lara replied, clenching her jaw so she didn’t show how deeply those words affected her. Just another reminder of how desolate her life was. This place, this lonely shack, was as good as things would ever be. “Say what you wanted to say so you can get out of here.”

The bot was quiet, staring at the photo for what felt like years. Its body was too close to hers, too unmoving; no rise and fall of its chest, no shifting of its feet. It was unnatural.

“You need food. Clean water. Reliable shelter,” it finally said. She intended to reply with anotherno shit, but the bot’s next words stole her breath. “I can give you all that.”

“Just give it?” she asked when she regained her composure. “Just like that? Nothing is free.”

“You’re right. Forgive my choice of words. It would be an ongoing arrangement.”

“Look, I don’t know how fried your processor got out in the Dust, but I’ve already told you, I don’t?—”

The bot lifted its hand and held up a single finger, turning toward her. Glaring, Lara snapped her mouth shut.

Its impossibly vivid green eyes met and held her gaze. “Our current agreement is that you will listen. I will provide food, water, shelter, clothing. Everything required for your survival. You will quarter at my residence”—it leveled its finger at her, silencing the protest she’d been about to make—“for the duration of this agreement. The price is simple, and one you can easily pay.”

“No.” She wasn’t interested in an arrangement. There was no way she’d become a bot’s plaything. The very thought sent a shiver along her spine, threatening to stir up memories of cruel, inhuman hands on her body.

The bot was silent, staring at her with expressionless features as her heart thumped.

“Dance for me,” it finally said. “That’s the only payment I ask.”

“God damn it, I said I don’t do that anymore! Go to Kitty’s.”

“I did. It was…unsatisfying.”

Lara’s eyebrows fell. Unsatisfying? There were bot and human dancers there, all beautiful. They were seductive, sensual, and, unlike Lara, offered private couplings for a price. How could a place like that not satisfy whatever cravings this thing had?

Yet the more she thought about this bot’s words, the more human they seemed. “What…do you mean?”

“I went and watched. None of them danced like you.”

“So, after briefly seeing me dance, you decided that you want me in your house as your own personal little dancer?”

“Yes.”

She waited for it to say more, to elaborate, but it seemed to think that one word was enough.

Lara lifted a foot to scratch at the dried mud on her calf. Despite the meat she’d wolfed down, hunger gnawed at the pit of her stomach. This bot was offering everything she could ever need, was offering the first real comfort of her entire life. And she wasn’t sure what was worse—that she was tempted to refuse again, or that she was tempted to accept.

After Lara had left Kitty’s, Tabitha worked double shifts there to keep the two of them fed.

Even knowing what had happened to Lara, Tabitha had still accepted a similar offer from another bot. Warmth and a full belly beat having perverts pawing at your tits and ass every night. But Lara could never banish her guilt over the sacrifices Tabitha had made for them while Lara had been immobilized by terror.

“What’s your name?” the bot asked.

She pushed aside the heartache that always accompanied thoughts of Tabitha. “Lara.”

“Is that all?”

“What do you mean, is that all?”

“Humans usually have two or three names. Is it just Lara?”