"What do you need a radio for, anyway?" Luna asked, practically reclining herself on the pile of junk to sift through and relocate. The cat was on her lap, where she was petting it mindlessly.

Orion panted, wheeling around another bucket of miscellaneous scrap to send to some other basin. It all felt a little pointless and more like busy work. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you the truth."

"So lie to me."

"Giraffe just came out with a new album, and I really need to hear it."

"No clue who that is. Now tell me the truth."

"I need to know Syndra's plans and what all is happening around the country, so I can make it right and put an end to it."

"No clue who that is, either."

"Wait, you don't know about Syndra?"

"Is it some sort of tech company?"

"No. Syndra is a person. He hosted a hostile takeover of Carmsborough a couple days ago. Shot the man in charge of creating the steambots, who hosted the unveiling of the Clockwork, his latest creation. He's currently forcefully removing people from their houses."

She perked up at the last note. "What? Why?"

"I don't know. I didn't catch enough of the radio broadcast to hear the reason. All I know is I don't want that happening to my sister and dad, and I need to stop him before he hurts anyone else."

"A hostile takeover?"

"You really don't know anything about this?"

"I am quite literally homeless. Nothing that happens around here tends to affect people like me."

"Even though you have a steambot? You haven't heard of the Clockwork, either?"

"I feel like this is the lie, and the other thing about giraffes was the truth."

"I swear. It's all true. I need to know what's happening so I can stop it."

She looked down at her cat, who did nothing. "And you don't know anything about them kicking people out of their places?"

"I wish I did. Why?"

"Doesn't matter. If all this is true, then your story should align with what my guy will have to tell me. Then I'll know if you're the real deal, and then I'll make sure you get your radio."

"But I'm not allowed to know anything about your guy."

"Correct."

"Can I know anything?"

"What do you want to know?"

"Why are you homeless?"

"Nope, can't know that."

"How long have you been living like this?"

"What is today?"

"I don't remember. This all started on May sixth, so maybe the tenth. Or ninth. The days have all run together a bit."

"A couple of years."

"What's the deal with your cat? How did you get it?"

"Him," she glared. "And his name is Freckles."

"Where did you get him?"

"Here, actually. Best find I've ever gotten. He's perfect."

"I don't mean to be rude about this, especially since you're very willing to help me about this, but he's just a steambot. A machine. A means to an end. Why bother gendering him, or giving him a name?"

"And you're just a human. A multi-celled organism based on chemical reactions. A means to an end for me, too. Why should I bother caring about any of that for you, either?"

"Because you're a human, too."

"Because you're sentient. Because you deserve respect. Well, I guess that part is still up for debate. And I can't even place a value on Freckles. He's saved my life more than once and in more than one way. He's earned that place in my life. He's earned an identity. Steambots know when they're respected by the one they've chosen to bond with, and in turn become so much more than 'just a steambot.'"

"I guess that's a good way to look at it," he said, thinking back to the Clockwork, still waiting in that abandoned mattress warehouse. Would it be performing better for him if he had given it respect? Actually cared about it?

Then again, he was finding it hard to do, for the same reasons he wasn't respecting it or caring about it. It was a negative feedback loop, and it might ruin his chances of getting anything done. Of saving Carmsborough.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

"I know it is," she said, plainly. "Keep up the stellar work, Rami. You've entered hour three of ten."

He groaned. It was going to be a long day.

-◦=[ ]=◦-

At long last, with his mind melting out of his ears, the day ended. The three of them went up to the boss, got their pay, which was incredibly meager, and headed out. Immediately outside the door, she motioned for him to give her the money, to which he complied immediately. She intimidated him, and the last thing he wanted right now was to be on her bad side.

"You're not a very assertive person, Rami," she said, pocketing the money. "You'd never make it as a homeless person."

"I sure hope that's something I'll never have to test."

"No kidding. Alright, this way to my guy."

He followed her until they hit the northern docks of the Industrial District. He didn't recognize anything in the area, seeing as it was probably a two-hour walk from his apartment, but it was lively.

"You know, I used to work at a butcher shop in the Housing District," he said, still a few paces behind her. Freckles was wrapped around her shoulders, his tail flicking back and forth. "If you wanted a place that paid better, there's a spot they're likely trying to fill right now."

She laughed. "Yeah, okay. That's cute. Nobody hires homeless people, Rami."

"Why?"

"We're the bottom of society, viewed as dropouts, junkies, criminals, and, most importantly, lazy. Not to mention, most places require an address to work."

"Well, but you're not any of those, right? I'm sure you could get in pretty easy. His standards were low enough for me to get in."

"Incredible assumption. And you're half right. I'm not a junky, and I'm not lazy."

She motioned for him to go down an alley with him. At the end was a dumpster in an enclosed area, aside from a single door on the same wall.

"You're taller than me. You've got longer arms. See what all you can get out of this for us."

"What do you mean?"

"Would you like to eat? You just worked a ten-hour day for nothing. We both need food."

Orion nervously approached the dumpster. "Isn't this illegal?"

"I think a better question is whether it should be illegal. To that, I say no. It's already going to the trash. It is actively sitting in the trash. We should be able to eat it."

He lifted the lid. Inside was an assortment of breads. A few of them felt semi-fresh, but many were stale, and he didn't want to think about the collection at the very bottom. Still, he grabbed out two loaves and handed one to her.

"Yeah, two isn't gonna cut it. We're going to need a lot more bread each, plus some for my guy. Think stocking for the winter."

He handed her the other loaf and reached inside, grabbing as many good-looking loaves as he could. Between the two, they left the alley with ten all tucked away in their arms. Nobody initially noticed them, or seemed to care, but Orion was still paranoid.

"Uh oh, your first crime," she said, nudging him. "I'll bet it's eating you away inside."

"Not this, no."

"Alright, mopey. Something's been bothering you, and something tells me it's not this housing thing. What's going on, and should I be concerned?"

"It's nothing. I... I was trying to escape some of Syndra's army, and I got someone shot in the process. He didn't deserve it. He was—"

"A lover?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"Sorry to hear."

"That's it?"

"What do you mean? Were you expecting to start crying or something?"

"No, this went actually a lot more positively than I thought it would."

"Oh. No, I don't do that sort of thing. Never cared for the teachings of the church much, and that ship sailed pretty quickly after I went homeless. Something about the very institution meant to help you when you're down not doing that rubbed me the wrong way."

"I get that."

"We're here." She had led him into another alley, but this one opened up to a series of tents. There were people everywhere, inside and outside of their makeshift homes, leaning on walls, standing, barely skating by. A few were fighting over a blanket nearby, but many of them stared as they walked past with all the bread in their arms.

Freckles made himself known, and Orion figured that was the main reason none of them were doing anything. It wouldn't surprise him if the cat was her muscle in a world where you had to fight to survive like this. He admired her tenacity, even though he still wondered if going to her was a bad idea. She didn't seem all that there, morally speaking. Definitely more focused on herself than the wellbeing of anyone else.

Which made her helping him feel very out of place.

They approached one of the last tents in the alley. A man stood up and looked at them, some visage of fear in his eyes that wouldn't seem to focus on any one thing.

"Who is this?" the man asked, pointing at Orion.

"This is Tarmac Zero," she said. "Remember what I told you?"

The introduction simmered in the man's brain for a moment until the unfocused look turned more to worry. "The chosen one."

"That's right, Shane. The chosen one. He's finally come back around. He has a few loaves of bread to offer you in exchange for some things he'll need to save the world."

"Yes, yes, of course. Please, anything."

Orion handed him three of his six loaves, to which the man clung onto for dear life. "Here, sir."

"Thank you, oh most gracious Tarmac Zero. I will cherish these forever. They will go on my mantle."

"No, I insist. Please eat them. They're for you, after all."

He looked back and forth between Orion and the bread.

"Now, Shane, Tarmac Zero needs two things before he can go on his way to saving the world. The first thing is that really special ring you found, remember?"

"Yes, the—the emerald ring. Yes. I have it here. It gives you uncontrollable power, Tarmac Zero."

The man gave Orion the ring, which he kept firmly in his hands. He didn't feel good about what she was having him do to this man, who was clearly not all there, mentally speaking.

What an awful combination.

"Thank you, Shane. You're a hero. The next thing he'll need is a radio. A working radio. Do you know where we can get one of those?"

"A radio? What for?"

"He says that he needs to see what a man named Syndra is doing around here. Do you know who that is?"

"Syndra. Yes, Syndra. He's a bad, dangerous man. Arrested before, but came back. Killed a man. Hunting down a kid named Orion. Shot his boyfriend."

Hearing it all relayed like this felt like a gut punch. Did that mean the Gearmaster was dead? Was it announced to the entire city that Rami was his boyfriend?

"You've got it, Shane," she said. "Do you know where we can get a radio?"

The man got up, setting his bread down on the dirty ground, and went over to another tent, where a man was sleeping inside. Or, at least, Orion hoped he was sleeping. Then he removed a radio from the tent and handed it over.

"Do your best with this, Tarmac Zero. Please save us all from Syndra and the Conglomerate."

"Yes, of course," Orion said, taking the radio. "Thank you."

-◦=[ ]=◦-

The two left the alley in a hurry after, and as soon as they were a suitable distance in the other direction, Luna stopped him.

"Alright, ring."

"I don't feel good about this," he said, giving it to her.

"And I don't like being lied to, Orion," she said. "You're lucky I'm letting you keep the bread and the radio. Good luck going back to your mediocre life in the Housing District. And hope your boyfriend can forgive you for tangling him up in all of this."

She walked down the street and disappeared down a back alley. He looked down at the radio in his hand and shuttered.