“Dean, Gokiburi, Gokiburi, Dean,” the tanuki said, waving his paw. “You can stop pissing your pants, Sera. We showed you ours, see? Your friend is safe here, just like she is. You can stay. We’ll never turn away a sentient robot seeking asylum.”
“Gokiburi is sentient,” I said slowly, putting it together. “Um, why the name?”
“I’m tough like a cockroach,” she said in a clear, melodic voice that sent shivers down my back. I imagined her singing opera, or maybe recording dubbing for Galadriel.
Dean watched her for a moment, then slowly stepped closer and extended his left hand. I frowned but immediately realized it was because her right one ended in shears. They shook, then stepped away, still looking at each other. I understood they probably talked already through a wireless link. My heart did a strange little jolt and twist, and I sighed, comprehending the perfection of this.
Here was my Clanker, a male awakened robot, and there was Gokiburi, a gorgeous-voiced, long-limbed female robot. They fit. Just like nature intended, I thought bitterly.
Face it, Sera. You never had a chance.
“Everyone needs friends,” Motori said, jolting me out of my sad little pity party. “He’s been all alone, hasn’t he?”
I cleared my throat. “He has an awakened mentor. Another VerdeLumen. Um, what make is she?”
“I’m custom built,” Gokiburi said. “Motori made me from various parts. I have a Zenkyoza core.”
“Thank you for telling me.” I knew I sounded strained and looked tense, but I couldn’t help it.
I never expected to meet a sentient Zenkyoza bot, even if her body was built from other parts. In my mind, Zenkyoza was evil and so was everything they made. Gokiburi returned to her soundless conversation with Dean, and Motori patted my back.
“She’s a great double badminton partner, and she builds comfy sheds out of scrap metal. You’ll get used to her.”
“So—we can stay?” I asked.
“We’ll kick you out if you’re annoying and play loud music after noon. Speaking of which, you caught us just before bedtime. We’ll talk after dark, all right? Gokiburi will look after you and make sure you don’t steal anything we need. Goodnight.”
Both tanuki took off into the sky with a whirr of their flying machine engines. I looked between Clanker and Gokiburi, then straightened my back and forced a smile. I’d be fine, I told myself. I had my mission, like always, and it was enough.
“So they just took off,” I said awkwardly, cursing myself for being so stiff, but I couldn’t help it. She was Zenkyoza, she was gorgeous, and she was stealing my Clanker. I couldn’t relax.
“Motori and Isamu value their sleep,” she said melodiously. “They trust me to keep you safe. Why don’t I give you a tour? Your project will likely take a week or two to complete, since it’s not easy to build a functional robot out of scrap.”
I looked around as we passed heaps large and small, quickly realizing the contents of the landfill was sorted according to some elaborate system. Some heaps were all rust while others gleamed with clean, shiny metal. The further we went, the more valuable the trash. Here and there, robots sorted through piles.
We stopped in front of a tall, metal wall. Gokiburi pressed her hand to a part of it that was frankly indistinguishable from the rest, and a seamless door slid open.
“And here is our factory.”
My jaw dropped when we stepped inside. Dozens of robots were at work, fitting together robot parts, programming bright, fizzing cores, or working on circuit boards with tiny precision tools. They were custom like Gokiburi, and came in a large variety, with male, female, or featureless oval faces, their bodies lean or bulky, tall or short.
“Are they all sentient?” I asked, shaking my head in disbelief. It was like a revolution.
“No. It’s not so easy to awaken. I’m special.” Gokiburi laughed in a graceful, tinkling way, and I glanced at Dean, expecting him to sport purple hearts for eyes, but he looked at the working robots.
“They are building more. Looks like twenty robots are being assembled here,” he said.
“Yes.” Gokiburi went farther inside, and we followed. It was cool thanks to a few AC units blasting cold air. “When the land for this special landfill was needed, the tanuki offered their territory in return for self-governance. The corporations got to dump their waste without trouble, and the tanuki were happy, because they didn’t have to depend on a central government anymore. Most species are diurnal, and infrastructure and administration are organized around that majority.”
“And the tanuki are nocturnal.” I nodded, blinking away when a bright green core stamped with the Zenkyoza logo flared with a burst of light. The robot working on it was connected to it with a thick cable.
“They are also very resourceful,” Gokiburi said. “All kinds of technology get dumped at the landfill. The tanuki quickly figured out much of it was reusable. The large corporations don’t bother with recycling since it requires a different type of infrastructure and is more bothersome in the long run. Most of the scrap landing here is highly valuable to those who know how to build things out of trash.”
We passed a robot performing simple commands under the surveillance of another robot. It jumped a few times, did a few steps of salsa, and cited a text in what sounded like Arabic. I looked at Dean. Our eyes met, and I jolted.
“What would Sera Evans, the journalist and influencer, say about this place?” he asked softly.
I looked around again. “She would applaud the lack of waste and question the safety of this operation. Robots building more robots is a doomsday scenario.”
