The air was still. It was warm out, but not humid. Zero was sitting on a bench, idly studying a photo. His body still showed signs of wear, but he was in much less pain. His range of motion was something approaching the norm.
A woman’s voice addressed him. “What’cha lookin’ at?”
Zero looked up.
Humanoid. Elderly appearance, wrinkles. Olive skin, brown eyes, greying brown hair. Visible seams on arms, visible indicator lights. Walking cane, no activation mechanisms for a hidden weapon. Likely unarmed. Friendly expression.
He turned the photo around. It was of himself, sitting with a masculine Reploid. Zero was much less worn in the photo. The other man wore a lab coat styled like a military uniform, and a translucent red sensory enhancement visor. His hair was slicked back. He was positively beaming, and Zero’s usual stony face was replaced with a gentle smile. Both were waving to the camera, the man’s hand blurred by motion, and Zero’s nearly still in something approaching a peace sign.
After studying the photo for a moment, the woman asked, “Friend of yours?”
He replied, “He’s the head mechanic at Resistance Five. We were close. More than friends, I think.”
The woman smiled wryly. “You think?”
Zero also smiled, but sadly. “Never had time to figure that out with him. There was an attack on our old base. Almost lost him and a few others. Set off on my mission to Neo Arcadia right after. It couldn’t wait.
She frowned. “I see. Hold on, lemme grab a seat. Bones’re achin’.”
Slowly, carefully, the woman lowered herself onto the unoccupied part of the bench, resting her cane across her lap. Zero offered a hand to shake. “Oh, uh, I’m Zero, by the way. I don’t think we’ve been introduced.”
The woman laughed. “I know who you are, sweetheart. You were famous when I was younger. Besides, you’re all anyone here can talk about. But, uh, I’m Tomato. It’s nice to actually meet you, Zero.”
She took his hand, shaking it firmly. He could feel that her hand was covered in an immersively flesh-like silicone. A status light glowed on the back of her palm. If not for the light and the seams, he could almost mistake it for a human arm.
Tomato asked, “You miss him, huh? Why not go back to see him?”
Zero sighed. “I wish I could. But they were preparing to evacuate the base when I left. I don’t know where they went to. And besides, until Neo Arcadia is no longer a threat, I cannot afford to take the risk. They follow me closely… I can’t lead them to him. For the same reason, I have to leave here tomorrow.”
Raising an eyebrow, the woman asked, “Didn’t you only get here a week ago?”
An expression akin to embarrassment crossed the warrior’s features. “Yes. I feel bad about lingering for so long, quite honestly. But the opportunity to recuperate has been helpful, and I’ve had the chance to meet with family I didn’t know I had. It’s almost all older brothers, except for one- I have a nephew. They made him come visit. Like I said, I don’t remember anything of the past, but… it was nice. They were all just so natural with me. It felt familiar in an odd way, like the memory is there but I can’t see it.”
Tomato said, “There would have been a point when I was much younger where this would have been crazy to say, but Wily’s sons are alright. Not a lot of them left anymore, though. I’m glad you got to have time with ‘em. But, uh. You don’t gotta feel bad about lingering. Between them and the militia, we can handle ourselves. Not like Neo Arcadia likes to mess with us, anyway. Tanuki thinks they’re kinda afraid of us. On account of the stuff we’re keeping an eye on in the Tower. And all the forbidden information he’s gathered over the years. They could probably wipe us off the map, but they would regret it, and there would be survivors to make a whole new Tin Can. They’d just kick the can down the road in a manner of speaking, hah.”
Zero nodded approvingly. “That’s good. It’s important to have a deterrent if you cannot successfully face them in open warfare. I think I served as the Resistance’s deterrent when I was there, but… well, things escalated before I left. Enough operations went well that they shifted into needing to actively work to eliminate me as a threat, I believe.”
Tomato reclined. “I wouldn’t know much about war shit. I can shoot, but that’s about it.”
The sunlight started to dim. Zero and Tomato both looked up at the sky. A cloud was rolling into place, obscuring the sun. It was followed by a whole sheet of overcast, rapidly moving horizon to horizon.
Tomato intoned, “Gonna rain.”
Zero’s voice caried astonishment. “This far into the desert?”
“Yeah. We’re about a few hours away from Neo Arcadia. They use artificial weather machines to seed rainclouds. It’s partly to simulate nature for the humans, and partly to assist in irrigating their farms. The clouds always drift out to us. It’s one of the few nice things the place makes, honestly.”
She paused, closing her eyes. After a minute, she idly commented, “I got a granddaughter out in Neo Arcadia… Wish I could visit her, but I just can’t bear to be in that evil place. Moved my entire life out here just to get away from it.”
This, too, surprised Zero. “I thought they banned Reploids making offspring. I didn’t know it was still happening enough for multigenerational lines to be cropping up.”
Tomato’s eyes opened. She looked at the fighter. “Hon, I’m not- huh?”
“Wait, you’re not a Reploid?”
She laughed. “That’s right. I’m a bona fide human.”
“But- your seams? The indicators on your body?”
“Augments, sweetheart. I’m old. They help hold me together. Assist with walking, shit like that. Reduces the pain I’m in. Looks badass, though. But- seriously, Zero, how many other ‘old person with joint problems’ models of Reploids have you seen?”
The question was intended as a lighthearted jab, but Zero replied in earnest. “One.”
“Oh? I’ve gotta hear about this.”
“His name was Andrew. He was a non-combatant in the Resistance. He used to have a human wife, long ago. Got progressively modded over time to match her aging. Real authentic stuff. Long beard, worse optics, hunched posture… Needs a cane, just like you. His wife died, and he never got his mods reverted. Think it’s how he grieves.”
Tomato pulled out a notepad and jotted something down. “Sorry, that’s just fascinating. I used to study robotic psychology- got a doctorate for it- and that’s just one of the most fascinating things I’ve ever heard. Like, obviously humans and robots shack up, that’s not weird, but that is interesting. If I wasn’t so old, I’d try to track him down to interview him…”
Zero watched her write with interest. “You been psychoanalyzing me, then?”
“Oh, no, not at all. I’m retired. Besides, you sorta seem to have it together. You got clear goals, and normally I’d call them unrealistic, but… I mean, you’re Zero. You’re known for getting things done.”
He grinned, appreciatively. “I do my best, Doctor.”
“Hey, like I said, retired! You don’t gotta ‘doctor’ me. But, uh, that being said… if you ever need to, y’know, talk- even just to vent- you can call me up. Even the strongest most badass warrior poets aren’t unbreakable.”
She giggled and tore off a piece of the notepad paper, handing it to Zero. It was a communication network ID.
Zero laughed. “Warrior-poet?! I think I’m a little too uncreative to be called that. I always have trouble thinking of anything meaningful to say to the freaks Neo Arcadia sends after me. Y’know, they give me their whole spiel about how they’re gonna kill me, and then a minute later, they’re being killed by me. I guess this one time, they sent this strange slime-based Mechaniloid after me, and I couldn’t help but comment on how it looked like an ugly slug- but that’s not poetry. That was just me being a dick. Warrior-poet. You’re a funny one, Tomato.”
The pair laughed. Rain began to fall.