Elizabeth announced, “Time to go in. Can’t risk you two being out here any longer.”

Nikodemus glowered. “Yes, mother.”

Elizabeth blinked rapidly, not understanding his jape. “I’m not your mother.”

Yair smiled at Nikodemus’ comment, but found that he couldn’t laugh. Perhaps Hilargi had not programmed him to laugh. He thought it was… sad that he could not laugh. Or, perhaps he had merely not found the joke funny enough.

“Buncha sticks in the mud. Kids these days just don’t know how to have fun.” Nikodemus said with a smile and a roll of his eyes.

He and Yair went back inside, accompanied by Elizabeth and Annie.

As they strolled down the blinding hallway together, Nikodemus clasped his hands behind his back, standing up straight.

Yair glanced at him, taking in his posture. In a moment, he imitated Nikodemus’ posture.

Nikodemus rose an eyebrow. “What are you doing, Yair?”

Elizabeth and Annie also found themselves watching the robot curiously.

Yair felt his metallic cheeks warming. “I’m trying to be…” He searched his databanks for the correct words. “Debonair and gentlemanly.”

Nikodemus stopped in the middle of the hallway, his jaw melodramatically slack. “I’m what passes for a gentleman these days?”

“To be fair, you’re the only one who possibly can.” Annie giggled to herself.

Nikodemus planted his hands on his hips, his brow furrowed in annoyance. “Yes, thanks for reminding me, Annie.” To Yair, he said, “so, what’s the plan now, Yair?”

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

“I was going to ask if I could help cook, but I’m afraid I would hold the women back…” Yair’s voice had a tinge of sadness to it, and he was proud of himself for being able to emit such a sound.

As Nikodemus looked the robot up and down, his facial features lifted in excitement. “Look how filthy your hands are! We should wash them off!” Nikodemus exclaimed.

Before Yair could reply, Nikodemus seized Yair’s hand and dragged him down the stairs to the showers. He found a porcelain sink that was difficult for both the Last Man and Yair to reach due to their small height.

Elizabeth grabbed a stool from one of the stalls and placed it in front of the sink. Yair climbed up on it, and felt it creak under his heavy, metal feet.

Yair was annoyed by Nikodemus’ insistence on washing his hands. “I don’t see the purpose of this, Nikodemus. I’m a robot, after all.”

Nikodemus chuckled as Annie grabbed a second stool for the Last Man to step up on. The pygmy human stepped up on it and leaned an elbow against the rim of the sink. “You said you wanted to help with the cooking, right? Well, you ought to wash your hands first.”

Yair realized he was right. How foolish of me. I suppose I wasn’t programmed to think of such things. After all, I wasn’t programmed to cook.

Nikodemus tsked. “Use soap—and make sure you rub your hands together!” Nikodemus chided.

As he had seen Nikodemus do earlier, Yair rolled his eyes in annoyance.

Silence reigned for a moment.

Yair thought that the silence was uncharacteristic of Nikodemus, so he turned his gaze toward the human. Nikodemus was staring with a wistful smile at the water cascading out of the faucet.

Yair thought that the man looked as still as a statue. Yair turned off the faucet. “What are you thinking about?”

Nikodemus snapped out of his reverie, shaking his head. “Oh, just the musings of an old man, I guess.”

Both the women laughed, and Yair smiled in response, recognizing that Nikodemus was far too young to be able to make a joke like that.

“Come on, Nikodemus. You’re still spry!” Elizabeth giggled. “You said yourself that you’re only in your forties!”

Nikodemus enjoyed the laughter of his companions for a moment.

After that moment, his smile became a little bit more wan, but remained wistful. “I was just thinking about my brother. One of his strange idiosyncrasies was that he never washed his hands. I always had to remind him to do it. The things that the mind doesn’t allow you to forget are so odd, sometimes… I can’t remember what age I lost him at, or the exact shade of brown his eyes were. But I remember that he never washed his hands…”