THE EXCHANGE - District III - DREAM CITY
Sweet classic music floated through the air as Rolo danced with old Cindy. Around them, robots clapped and spun in delight. Even Shakes, usually hard to impress, was having a blast.
It turned out Rolo — yes, he'd decided to stick with that name because it was the only label they'd found on his shell — wasn't so bad after all.
No one could quite figure out what he was originally built for. He didn't carry the traits of a security unit or a full companion bot or an actual model 1, but he was charming in a peculiar way. Cindy had quickly grown fond of him, and his intelligence stood out above the rest.
Shakes had done some software updates. Some modules were replaceable, others hopelessly outdated — no longer sold, no longer supported. But Rolo's internal memory drive remained locked, a dead lock. No one could bypass it without destroying the bot.
Whatever secrets he held were sealed tight.
"Alright, Rolo, do the swirl! Do the swirl!" Shakes shouted, raising his arms.
Rolo spun elegantly, and the crowd of bots burst into cheers again.
"Oh dear," Cindy chuckled, cheeks flushed as she followed his movements. He was a fast learner. She had taught him every step, and he'd picked it up with surprising speed.
"This takes me back, I am happy" declared cindy.
"Are you happy dancing?" Rolo asked, his tone as curious as ever.
"Yes, I sure am. Dancing is fun!"
"Fun?" Rolo paused. "What does that mean?"
"It's something that makes you happy."
"Does tea make you happy?" he asked.
Cindy sighed. There it was again — tea. For all the software tweaks, Rolo still ran on some default memory cache that insisted tea was the core of every social interaction.
"Well, not exactly for me," she replied. "But I'd love a cup of coffee with you sometime."
"Then we will make tea," Rolo declared earnestly.
Cindy smiled. "One day, I'll teach you about coffee."
A moment passed. Then Rolo asked, "Would you tell me more about the Savior of Humanity, Harry?"
There was also that. Rolo was oddly obsessed with stories about Harry — the so-called Savior of Humanity. No one else gave those tales much thought, but Rolo treated them like gospel.
"Oh, I sure will," Cindy giggled. "One time, dear Harry rescued an android from part dealers. There was a fight — and Harry just dealt with them! You should've seen it!"
"You are ruining the vibe!" Shakes called out from across the room. "Enough chatter, just enjoy the music already!"
But then his comms beeped. A notification. Items from his wishlist had just been listed at the Exchange.
"I gotta run to the Exchange," Shakes said. "Cindy, want me to pick you something up?"
Cindy waved him off, catching her breath. "No, I'm good. I'm all out of breath from dancing."
She turned to Rolo. "Why don't you take him along? I think you could use a little walk outside."
"Excellent," Rolo replied. "Should we make tea before we leave?"
"No tea, Rolo," Shakes groaned. "Let's just go!"
Rolo raised a hand in farewell. "If you need tea, Mrs. Cindy, just let me know. I'll always be ready to provide a hot cup!"
Cindy chuckled and waved back as they drove off.
All that tea talk was starting to get to her. She paused. Was she actually craving tea?
No — wait. Coffee.
Definitely coffee.
The drive to the Exchange wasn't long, but the air grew heavier the further they went. The clean cheer of the dance hall faded behind them, replaced by the dull hum of machinery, choked skies, and cracked roads. Rolo turned his head from side to side, taking it all in.
Everything looked… tired.
The people walked slowly, shoulders slumped, eyes sunken. The robots weren't much better—rusty, dented, dragging their limbs behind them, moving like ghosts in forgotten programs. Even the buildings sagged like they'd given up hope.
"Shakes," Rolo began, his voice light and curious, "why do the people look like they are not dancing?"
Shakes glanced at him. "They're not dancing, Rolo. They're surviving."
"But surviving is good, isn't it?"
Shakes didn't answer right away. He maneuvered past a pile of scrap bots and pulled to a stop in a narrow alley near the Exchange. "Listen, Rolo," he said, killing the engine. "This place... this world—it's not what it should be. The rich? They got richer. The poor? Poorer and when the rich couldn't stand seeing them, they brought them here to be forgotten. And everyone here is just clawing to stay afloat."
Rolo tilted his head. "That doesn't sound fair. I know what will help! "
"Definitely not tea!" Shakes said. He knew where the bot was heading.
"It wouldn't But why?"
Shakes rubbed his face. "Corruption. Greed. Power, No one gives a damn. Even the good ones quit trying. And if they don't, they get silenced.I am going to get off this planet some day, I will get a place off Mars or the Lunar one day, you will see."
"Can I come with you, me and cindy?"
"Sure, we all will go!"
"Then we will make tea for everyone and everyone will be happy and dancing, and fun!" He emphasized the new words he had picked up.
"Rolo, that's not how humans work or think, its not so simple"
Rolo blinked. "But humans are supposed to be like Harry. He saved people and robots. He was kind and cindy said he loved tea."
Shakes looked over, surprised. He smiled faintly. "You really love that Harry guy, huh?"
"He was the Savior of Humanity."
Shakes chuckled. "You know what? I think so too. We need more people like him. And bots like you."
Rolo processed that. "Like me?"
"You've got something most of us lost. Hope. Innocence. Like a baby seeing the world for the first time and thinking it's still good." He paused, then added more seriously, "But that can get you hurt, Rolo. So be careful. Don't talk to anyone. Don't wander off. And definitely—definitely—don't offer anyone tea."
Rolo looked crestfallen. "Not even one cup?"
"Not even a whiff," Shakes muttered, stepping out of the vehicle. "Now come on."
The Exchange was a sprawling underground market built out of a former refinery. Harsh lights flickered above rows of mismatched stalls and scaffoldings. There was no law here, but nobody said a word about it. People bartered with credits, scrap, old batteries—anything that still had use. Dust clung to the air, and the scent of oil and rust was overwhelming.
Shakes moved with purpose, weaving through the crowd. Rolo followed, head constantly turning, eyes wide.
Then he saw them.
Bots.
Models like himself—some newer, some older. All broken. Some hung up on hooks like meat, limbs missing, optics dark. Others were in pieces in scrap bins, lifeless shells discarded without ceremony.
Rolo froze.
"Many don't even make it up there," Shakes muttered beside him, voice low with pity. "They get torn apart before they're even listed, Cindy ans I do the little we can, we buy some, repair some and find them homes, they can be of use again,"
Rolo's eyes lingered on a head that looked so much like his own. "Would Harry have saved them?"
Shakes looked down at him. "I bet he would."
"All of them?"
Shakes hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah, Rolo. All of them."
Rolo was quiet for a moment. His optics dimmed slightly as he processed.
"Can I serve them tea?" he finally asked.
Shakes sighed. "No, Rolo. You can't." He gently took his arm and pulled him away. "We need to move."
They continued through the market in silence. But something about Rolo had changed. He was still walking, still functioning — but quieter now. Like a part of him had slowed down.
Shakes glanced at him and frowned. For a brief second, he swore he saw something in Rolo's posture — a slump, a subtle shift, like sadness.
But deep down, he wasn't sure.