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24. If I could pout, I would.

I spend the rest of the journey flicking through my cameras constantly. I’m so scared that the man will reappear, that he’ll jump out from one of the turnings or that a car will come to a stop next to me and he’ll climb out and attack the cat which is now dozing lightly on top of me. I can hear its soft snores reverberating through my lid. It makes me happy. Something inside of me is soothed by the almost constant noise. It’s familiar, in a way.

The world seems quiet today. It was earlier too. There’s hardly anyone around and even the roads are quiet. I wonder why. Maybe it’s just this time of year. Maybe after Christmas everyone just wants to stay in and do nothing. But then, I don’t know how much time has passed since Christmas. It could be that weeks went by before I was awakened again so maybe it’s not Christmas time anymore. I consider asking the voice but it’s not worth it.

Plus, I’m kind of annoyed at it. I know it sounds silly, the voice isn’t a person or alive or anything but it didn’t even try and help me when I was attacked. It just did nothing. I mean, it send a non-urgent report, whatever that means, but that was nothing. It didn’t help me. The only thing that did help was the cat.

I feel like I’m still in shock from that. I can’t believe that the cat just appeared out of nowhere and attacked that guy. It’s so much smaller than he was, so much more delicate. It didn’t need to do anything but it did. It protected me. That makes me feel strange but in a good way. I mean, I don’t even know the cat properly. I don’t know its name or who it belongs to or even if it is really a cat. It could be like me and have once been a human but I just don’t know.

I can’t talk to it. I wish that I could. That would make things so much easier. I don’t know what I would say though. Maybe I would just start with thank you. Wait. I can say thank you! That’s one of the phrases that I can say!

“Thank you!” I cry out, excitement at having realised that I can say something to the cat makes me impulsive but happy.

The cat stops snoring immediately and lifts its head, staring directly into my lens with shrewd eyes. It doesn’t move for a moment and anxiety starts to build within me. Maybe I scared it, maybe I spooked it and it was about to jump off me and run away. I slow down a little, forgetting about the customer and my delivery, as I stare back at the cat. After a moment, it blinks slowly and drops its head back onto my lid, starting to snore again almost immediately.

Relief washes through me but it doesn’t last long.

“Please remember that you are not allowed to speak to humans unless you are asking for help, thanking them for helping you, receiving an order or delivering an order,” the voice tells me.

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I’ve heard that exact phrase from it so often that I don’t care. I think I would have just ignored it if I wasn’t feeling quite so rebellious and annoyed about it ignoring my cry for help before though.

“It’s not a human,” I think sulkily. “It’s a cat.”

There is a pause and I feel a small spark of triumph burn within me. I’m smug that I’ve managed to shut it up, as stupid as that sounds. It makes me happy.

“Please remember that you are not allowed to speak to anyone, human or animal, unless you are asking for help, thanking them for helping you, receiving an order or delivering an order,” the voice says, correcting itself.

If I could pout, I would.

“Why not?” I ask the voice.

I don’t expect it to answer and it doesn’t. I assume that it doesn’t have an answer because why would it? I don’t understand why I wouldn’t be able to talk to animals. They’re not humans, they can’t get unnerved by my talking. I mean, maybe if someone were to overhear me talking to an animal, they would get confused by it but I doubt it! I can be careful, I will be careful.

I hesitate as doubt rushes through me. What would happen if someone did overhear? What if they didn’t just brush it off but what if they did something about it? I’m not sure exactly what they could do but if GroceRover found out somehow, that could be bad. Would they send me home? Back to the factory or wherever counts as home to me now? Then what? I don’t know and I don’t want to find out. I need to do what the voice says. Or at least be careful about talking to the cat or other creatures. I need to make sure no one else is around when I do that.

A splatter hits my lens and I look around at the world in surprise. It’s raining. Or hailing. Maybe snowing? I’m not sure actually. I think it might be a combination of the three somehow. The cat snoozing on my lid looks up, staring around at the world with an unimpressed expression. It doesn’t move though. I expect it to but it doesn’t.

The rain is coming down heavily now. It hits the snow-covered grass hard and splashes in the puddles on the road. I’m a little scared. I’m waterproof to an extent, I know that, but that doesn’t stop my fear. I’m a robot, made out of machinery. If rain gets into me, it could be a problem. I’ve been too reckless recently, taken too much damage and I know it. I hit the metal pole in the park, crashed into the road heavily when I had to jump off the curb and I might have even been damaged when I was sleeping. My metal shell could be cracked, broken maybe. Rain could get into my circuits and ruin me.

What would happen to me if water did find a way in? If I was damaged so badly that I needed to be sent back to the factory to be repaired, would I stay here in this world? Or would the rain erase all traces of my personality so that I just stop existing? Would I feel it happening? Or would I simply be here one moment, gone the next? What would happen to me then? Would I go to another world? Or would I just be gone?

I’m not sure. I don’t know which would be better. I like to think that I’ll return home, to the life I once lived, but I know that I won’t. I don’t know how I know but I do. I can’t go back. I’ll never go back.

“You are approaching your destination,” the voice informs me. “Would you like to inform the customer that you’ve arrived?”