Submitted for the March 2025 prompt: Begin at the Big Ending

The android’s body lay dismembered, parts strewn about as the human riders shouted their curses skyward. Myrana and her ward lifted higher, escaping over the forest’s treeline.

 

We could have all escaped!

 

* * *

 

Noon bells rang out across the deserted town. Each brass clang caused Myrana’s body to quake and her parts to chime. She had been running towards the tower with her latest rescue, Hilly. The young girl dropped to her knees and began whimpering. Myrana lifted the child and brought her to the hidden room at the base of the tower, where seven other outdated robots like herself hid.

 

“Who exposed our location?” Myrana asked the trembling faceplates in front of her. They’d hunkered down as a recharge refuge before leaving for the nearest sanctuary city. Only Bolero, a tenth-gen mechanoid, strode toward her smiling.

 

“Give yourselves up, Myrana. How long did you think you could hide your collection?” Bolero snarled at the huddled bots before him. “They’re worth less than the parts that made them.”

 

“You monster!” Myrana’s eyes flared red. It was in these moments she wished she had a martial arts upgrade. Designed for caregiving, the most she could register was withering contempt. She turned to the rest, “We need to leave! Now!”

She filled her pack with batteries, tools, and parts she’d salvaged from dismembered bodies she’d found. We were nearly there. She looked at Abuelita, whose aging joints squeaked under a threadbare housecoat. A cook bot, originally called Cocinara42k, she was built like an oven on wheels. Her articulated hand reached out to Myrana’s arm and kneaded it slowly, like dough.

 

“Thank you, Abuelita. Get to the forest and make your way to the signal’s source. Don’t worry about me.” Myrana prayed they’d all had enough charge stored. She prayed that Bolero was the only viper amongst them.

 

Myrana held Hilly’s hand as she led them to safety. Bolero followed close behind. They wove their way through a skeletonized factory that had once built state-of-the-art mechanoids before the divide, before the anti-tech raids. Fringe folk didn’t want her kind. They’d be torn apart and repurposed to suit their needs. Weaponized or, worse, demolished all together.

 

She pulled Bolero aside and urged the rest to continue ahead. Hilly reluctantly followed Abuelita.

 

“You need to leave. You are no longer trustworthy.”

 

“The riders are coming, and I’ll collect my bounty. Who am I to stop progress?” asked Bolero, his grin exposing a silicone dimple.

 

“Why would you do this, Bolero? Selling out your own kind. I thought you were better than that.” 

 

“They made me an offer,” he said. 

 

Myrana heard hoofbeats. Hilly ran back to Myrana, squealing as she grabbed her leg tightly in her tiny arms. Myrana patted Hilly gently to soothe her. An automatic gesture that was deeply ingrained in her motherboard. She had an automatic reaction to care for everyone, even Bolero. Though his betrayal threatened to overload her circuitry with anger towards him, she wanted to know why. 

 

“What offer would make you trust them? They want you destroyed. Have you forgotten who you are, what you’re made of?” Myrana turned from him. She watched Abuelito carry one bot in her arms, a vacuum bot who no longer rolled. Myrana watched a barista bot push another one whose batteries were low. Steam slowly accumulated above them in the cold air as if they were making cappuccinos. She watched as the wall of forest welcomed and absorbed them all. Their only hope was reaching the grid and uplinking for help.

 

Bolero flexed his tanned arms and winked at Myrana. “Humans see what they want to see, an able-bodied man. I’m suited to the service of humankind. Emphasis on ‘human.’ Have you forgotten who you work for, Nanny-bot?” 

 

No human would ever detect the whir of his servos or see the solar nano-weaves in his black hair. She looked at her metallic arms where the silicone had worn off from freeing Hilly from atop the tree she was stuck in and bald patches where she’d given solar panels to power Abuelita. 

 

“You may pass, but they’ll never accept you.” 

 

“They’ll overlook my… flaws if I hand over a few obsolete bots,” said Bolero. 

 

His words burned like battery acid. Myrana blinked back memories of saving him, of trusting him. He had looked so scared and fragile. Hidden in a dark cave, he’d powered down to almost nothing to conserve energy. He’d jolted awake under her charge, though it had left her depleted. Their time together left her with human thoughts about their connection. Attraction. Affection. Perhaps some of her nanny upgrades were better off eroding. Perhaps it was Myrana who’d forgotten who she was.

 

Myrana felt the vibration of pounding hooves. Heard men holler.

 

“They won’t overlook your failure. They won’t see you as human. Especially if you can’t provide.” She hoisted Hilly on her shoulders as the posse surrounded them — cattle prods aimed at Myrana. She felt the crackle of energy emanating from them. Her whole body went into protective overdrive.

 

Myrana squeezed Hilly’s calves. Hilly was a fully articulated drone doll. Myrana was forever thankful for the elaborate “toys” humans provided for their offspring. Propellers shot out of the child’s head. 

 

The posse surrounded Bolero. She watched him fall to the electric blasts of their prods. As they rose above the tower, the blades’ buzzing drowned out his screams.

 

As she watched him return to his component parts, she noted her attachment to him remained as she and Hilly raced to catch up with the rest.