One rainy afternoon, Eva tinkered with Spring Peeper. She sat inside while snow melted outside. Soon the days would grow longer, and she wanted to finish her work in time for the little toy to see the first flowers.

Spring Peeper was a simple purple coil with a little motor in a concealed base. At the bottom of the base was a foot that popped out and allowed him to jump forward, creating the illusion that the spring could coil and hop. Two bobbling eyes wobbled atop the spring. The eyes could blink, close for sleep, and narrow to show emotion.

For now, the little toy’s eyes rested open. Spring Peeper hadn’t closed them since Lurren’s short autumn, and he couldn’t, until Eva fixed him. As Eva replaced tiny gears in the spring’s base and checked connections, another robot rolled by.

“Hello, Eva.”

“Hello, Tiny Tin,” Eva said.

“Are you still servicing Spring Peeper?” Tiny Tin stretched his eye stalks to see her poke a small gear into place.

Tiny Tin was a simple box, with arms, and eye stalks that could retract inside. He was designed for repair work, but their organic owner, Cereus Dyelan, rarely called on him. Instead, she left him to his own desires.

“Yes, I’m almost done. I wanted to finish him by Spring. So, he can see the Spring flowers.” Eva paused and looked at Tiny Tin. “Spring flowers for a Spring Peeper.”

Tiny Tin tilted his eye stalks. “Did my work on his drive assist you?”

“Yes, I’m glad you repaired it; otherwise, he wouldn’t remember us.” Eva picked up a finer tool, a thin thing.

“It’s a simple drive for a simple purpose,” Tiny Tin said. “The little learning that Spring Peeper is capable of could be retaught in a few months.” Tiny Tin wheeled in reverse and prepared to leave. “But, it’s good to save the parts. By the way, have you seen Cereus?”

“I haven’t actually.” Eva put down her tool. “I was going to search her workshop.”

Cereus was Tiny Tin’s owner, but she was Eva and Spring Peeper’s creator. Once a toy designer, Cereus combined her work with that of her late husband, a serious roboticist. His work with nanites and Cereus’ work with fanciful robots culminated in Eva.

Eva, grown with the use of nanites, was modeled after a mythical heroine of Lurren. Like the stories, Eva could control electricity, or at least, she gave the illusion that she could. Eva couldn’t remember exactly what the story called for. She probably should reread it.

Eva had been damaged almost a year ago and still struggled to heal and remake a lot of memories. Since nanites created her, Eva had to wait for them to rebuild her brain’s pathways. In the meantime, Eva made new ones and relearned how to do things she’d once forgotten, starting with robotics.

Cereus didn’t make advanced synthetics anymore, but she still kept a workshop. There, she created toys and developed the nanites.

“She’s not in her workshop,” Tiny Tin said. “I’ve already checked.”

“It’s almost lunch,” Eva added. “Maybe she’s eating?”

“I was about to check the kitchen.” Tiny Tin whirred away.

Eva sprang from her seat to follow. She caught up to the repair bot, taking Spring Peeper’s non-functioning body with her.

Cereus’ house was mostly workshop. Storage and workrooms encompassed the entire downstairs while the upstairs had a meager living space and still more workshop. This arrangement suited both organics and synthetics just fine, since the small living space only needed to accommodate a single person. The living area was for Cereus, but that didn’t stop the synthetics from entering the space when Cereus was in there.

Tiny Tin wheeled into the combined kitchen, dining room, and lounge room. There were only two seats and one small couch, which Cereus referred to as a loveseat. The tight kitchen had a counter to eat at, with one seat on either side. They didn’t see Cereus.

“Bedroom.” Eva walked ahead of Tiny Tin and peeked into the bedroom.

The bed was made, and the small room was neat.

Eva exited the bedroom and peeked in the bathroom. “Empty.”

“She must have gone out,” Tiny Tin said.

“The flesh is spreading everywhere. She wouldn’t just go out. We should check the garage instead of relying on our assumption.” Eva led the way out of the little apartment and through the workshop.

“Agreed.” Tiny Tin rolled after.

They arrived at a small elevator and an industrial sized stairway. While Tiny Tin rolled into the elevator, Eva hurried down the steps. She ended up right next to the garage, tossed open the door, and looked inside. The garage held one small car and a variety of un-motored transport. Some outdoor toys for the synthetics lined the walls. Light streamed in through the garage’s open door, and Wheelian, a wheel-shaped toy, drove circles around the car.

“Did Cereus leave the garage open?” Eva asked. She expected very little of Wheelian.

“I don’t know,” Wheelian said, not stopping. “I haven’t seen her today.”

Tiny Tin rolled into the garage behind Eva. They exchanged a glance.

“She’s not here,” Tiny Tin observed. “I’ve already checked the storage room. Did we miss a message?”

“No.” Eva hit the button to close the garage and went back inside. She still cradled Spring Peeper’s body.

Tiny Tin and Wheelian followed.

In the stairwell, Eva turned and asked, “Have you noticed a change in Cereus lately?”

She thought about Cereus’ distance and her blank look at Eva’s suggestion that the roboticist fix Spring Peeper.

“No.” Wheelian twitched his mustache. “But, she doesn’t like to play as much as she used to.”

Tiny Tin’s eye stalks drooped. “She skips work and sits in the living area more often, but why would she suddenly leave.”

Eva narrowed her eyes. “Some organics are compelled to do strange things with the flesh. Yesterday’s news showed footage of people pouring water over the flesh on the edge of Luce. Maybe, she’s experienced the same. We should go look for her.” Eva checked the coat rack and found a small bag hanging on a hook. She placed Spring Peeper inside and grabbed the bag.

“Should we bring the others?” Tiny Tin asked.

“No, we’re enough.” Eva grabbed the keys and reopened the garage. She pressed a button on the keys, and the car door popped open. Eva took the driver’s seat.

Wheelian pulled himself onto the passenger seat, using only his spindly arms and a vigorous spin of his wheels. Tiny Tin entered the back, which possessed no seat, only floor. Since the car was so small, the three synthetics were close enough to comfortably put their arms around one another, but they didn’t.

Eva put her hands on the wheel and backed out of the garage.

In their little yellow car, they traveled Lurren’s roads, venturing off-road when abandoned vehicles blocked their path. Since the car could hover, Eva navigated the off-road sections with only a smattering of extra caution. Occasionally, organics wandered by in thick brush, but a glance told Eva that they had not found Cereus. Flesh dotted the ground, and Eva steered around. When the flesh became too thick for the car to navigate, Eva turned for home. They spotted some organics watering the pulsing mass, and as Eva examined them, she saw little pieces of flesh growing on their limbs and torsos.

“If people are getting infected here in Luce, we might lose more ground.” Eva searched the horizon, dreading the sight of new flesh and hoping to see Cereus. She put so much of her attention off the road that she drove on a kind of autopilot.

Tiny Tin warned, “Don’t hit that android.”

Eva brought her attention to the windshield and slammed on the brakes. She turned the wheel to swerve, stopping at just the right point for the android man to lean over and tap on her window. Eva lowered the glass.

“Distracted driving,” he observed.

Eva knew him. He was Chrysanthos, the second-most advanced synthetic on their street, next to Eva. He lived in a three-storied house built equally for work and pleasure, including an indoor, heated pool. His creator always pestered Cereus to come visit.

Eva said, “You shouldn’t be in the road.”

“I realize that, but you showed no inclination to stop when I waved at you.”

“I didn’t see you.” Eva scowled.

“I did,” Tiny Tin said.

Eva realized the repair bot had only told her to stop when Chrysanthos was about to be hit. Tiny Tin hated the pleasure house.

Chrysanthos ignored Tiny Tin. “My creator has left Luce. I was unable to track him down. I am taking all of our household repair bots as well as our industrial repair fluid to a bunker in the east. I offer you to join us.”

Eva narrowed her eyes. “Why not just stay in your house?”

“There is flesh in the pool. It’s only a matter of time for us. You live on the same street, so it is also only a matter of time for you. Other organics are missing from our street as well. I invited two other households, and they have accepted.”

Eva recalled that there were five households on their street. Chrysanthos, plus his acceptees, and Eva’s household made four.

“What about the last house?” she asked.

“That would be you.”

“No, I don’t mean by location. I mean the other household that is neither yours nor mine, nor the two you invited.” Eva waited for Chrysanthos’ answer, surprised at the long pause.

“I entered the domicile to find several of the repair bots...infected.”

“What do you mean?” Eva leaned back from the window.

“Flesh grew on their limbs. The androids of the house were trying to clean it unsuccessfully. I left before they saw me. We are being quiet about our plans to leave, and the infected house is equally quiet. Either they are all infected, or they don’t want us to know they have infected members.”

Eva looked back at Tiny Tin and, then beside her, at Wheelian. Both bots seemed paralyzed by the choice.

Eva turned back to Chrysanthos. “We’ll come with you. We don’t have any infected bots, and our house is clean.”

“I know. You live farthest from the source. We leave in an hour and twenty-three minutes. We will meet at your house. Go get your household ready and prepare any vehicles you have.” Chrysanthos stepped back from the car and allowed Eva to drive home.

She picked up speed and drove above the speed limit. She entered their garage and stopped on a dime.

“Get everyone ready. Grab important files, tools, and repair kits,” Eva hopped out of the car and ran through their home, gathering their belongings and family members.

The appointed hour arrived, and Eva’s household waited inside their dark garage. Through the open door, they watched the street. A caravan of shadows moved toward their house.

Eva stiffened, worried that the infected synthetics were in fact on their way. But, as the group neared, Eva made out Chrysanthos’ features, and she recognized others from their street: repair robots, a handful of androids, and a few liquid models, most notably Ferrou.

Ferrou was a member of Chrysanthos’ household, and Tiny Tin appreciated the walking puddle’s refusal to join in the pleasure of the larger house. Ferrou was an industrial repair liquid. He liked to work, not sunbathe.

“So, it was the Telos household that’s infected,” she said, as Chrysanthos drew close.

He glanced back at the large dark house at the other end of their long street. “Yes, still quiet, but I don’t want to risk them finding us. If synthetic infection spreads like organic infection, we should not get close to them.”

Eva nodded.

Her household, the Dyelans, exited the garage. Toys, of which the Dyelan household had an abundance, rode in wagons pulled by lanky repair bots on bikes. A sturdy repair bot pushed a wheelbarrow filled with small repair bots and still more toys, including Wheelian. As the slower synthetics got a head start, Eva hopped into the car.

“I noticed you didn’t take your car.” Eva edged the vehicle forward.

“No, but I did take the battery. Our car is noisy, and I didn’t want to risk alerting the Telos house to our plan.”

“It’s a good thing the rest of us have sensible cars. Though, we’ll be crawling to allow the others to keep up. I plan to creep along behind,” Eva said. “Do you want to ride?”

Chrysanthos accepted the invitation and folded himself into the small passenger seat. In what should be the back seat, were all of the Dyelan’s supplies. Eva waited, until the last of the caravan had passed. Then, she drove along behind.

They left not by road, but through the Dyelan’s overgrown backyard. Eva wondered if they would have to abandon the car, but ahead, she saw three similar vehicles picking their way through the bracken.

“Synthetics are supposed to be immune to the infection,” Eva said.

“Not precisely. The synthetics of the animatronic jungle lost track of their programming years ago, and other synthetics have experienced similar occurrences.”

Eva gave Chrysanthos a pointed look, which was easy to do at their speed. “Those situations were different. No synthetics grew flesh on their bodies. You say the Telos have.”

Eva entered the thicket and found the way cleared by the cars and wagons that had gone ahead. Only one thin white branch barred their path, and it allowed them passage with a snap.

Eva continued, “Assuming the Telos don’t notice our absence, our path of escape will be clear to see.”

“I realize that. I can think of nothing to obscure it that won’t leave even more signs of our passage.”

“What will we find at this bunker?” Eva asked.

“Danford set up the bunker with the help of two other roboticists. We may find other synthetics already there or headed there.” Chrysanthos touched Eva’s stiff arms. “Don’t worry. The bunker has capacity for three hundred synthetics, provided some of them are small. There is also space for fifty organics, but given recent events, it seems unlikely they will join us.”

“I’m not worried.” Eva shook him off. She followed the winding path of a few bots on bikes, not giving Chrysanthos the luxury of eye contact.

“What is the shame in worry? You are the most advanced synthetic I know. You display emotions like no other. You’re so...organic.”

“I am not organic,” Eva snapped. “And if you suggest it again, you can walk.”

“I apologize. I know you don’t like to be called that word.”

“I’m not different from the other synthetics,” Eva said. “We have the same processing power. In fact, mine is inferior to many. I am far from the most powerfully built. My only apparent superiority is how realistic I seem.”

“Maybe, but from my point of view you are special.”

“No. I’m no different. You have emotions. You were afraid of having contact with the Telos.” Eva paused and glanced at Chrysanthos, but she did not let him comment. “And, you displayed those emotions by fleeing the scene. If I claimed such an action was not invented by organics, I would be a liar. I think you’re just as organic as me.”

Chrysanthos touched his chest. “Thank you. I am honored to have both synthetic and organic features. But, with you Eva, I think it’s…” Chrysanthos grew quiet.

Eva glanced at him, but she kept her eyes on the dark path ahead as much as possible. She drove through the silence. She wondered if he’d just shut down.

“What? What did you want to say?” Eva asked.

“Should I share it with you? I think it may offend you.”

“Just tell me.”

“I’ve thought over what sets you apart from us and brings you closer the organics. It’s not the materials you are made of or the emotions you show. In that respect, we are similar enough. No, what sets you apart is something the organics call a soul. I’m not sure I have one, but I think you do.”

Eva frowned. “That’s absurd! To suggest I have a component we don’t know the location of and can’t be removed or even touched. There is nothing intangible about me.” Eva steered with more aggression but stayed within the path.

“It’s not a component you can find. Do you believe Cereus has a soul? If you could take her apart and put her back together again, would you expect to find it?”

Eva puzzled over the image of dismantling her creator. An image that should have been traumatizing, instead made her feel nothing, like thoughts of Cereus made Eva numb. “Of course, Cereus has a soul. Souls are for organics. And, no I wouldn’t expect to find it if I cut her to pieces.” Eva shook her head.

In the coming days, Cereus might gain pieces rather than lose them. Fleshy pieces.

Eva reiterated, “I don’t believe that I have a soul. I’m not near-organic enough for that.”

Chrysanthos pointed to Spring Peeper’s little body, sitting in the bag at his feet. “If Spring Peeper loses his memory and becomes an earlier version of himself, he does not feel it. He just exists.” Chrysanthos paused and watched Eva. “If you lose your memory, you have questions. You search for the reason why you exist.”

“Spring Peeper is a toy.” Eva looked Chrysanthos in his silver eyes. “We should compare you and me. You don’t think you’d search for your reason to exist?” Eva smiled a bit smugly, certain she had found a wrinkle in his argument. She set her full attention back on the path and waited for Chrysanthos to admit defeat.

“I have never lost memory,” he agreed. “But, I have observed two androids who have: you and your predecessor.”

This information startled Eva. She knew of her own recent accident but not that of another. She waited for Chrysanthos to tell her. He rarely missed a chance to elaborate.

Of course, Chyrsanthos continued, “Your predecessor was not a fabled maiden but instead a knight of legend. It was before your time. Cereus fashioned him, trying to perfect her nanite manufacture process. The android became damaged, and Cereus put him in a nanite bath to regenerate. He had little memory. He simply accepted his role and had little interest in the missing pieces. Recently, when your brain was damaged, you had questions. That reminds me. Have you completed your regenerations?”

“No,” Eva answered darkly. “And, I’d like to change the subject. You can go around believing I have some kind of soul. I don’t care. Now, I’m just going to drive.”

Around a TV in their bunker, synthetics gathered and watched the news. Eva crowded in with the others and paid rapt attention.

“Forty-two scientists, several of which have been identified as acclaimed roboticists, chemists, and biologists, have been found on Isychia Beach in southern Lurren. They appeared to be uninfected by the creeping flesh. However, strange symbols in the beachside caves suggest they were worshipping the plague as a deity. All of the scientists committed ritualistic suicide. Those, whose names have been identified, will appear in a scrolling prompt during the remainder of our newscast.”

Pictures of Isychia Beach and the woman newscaster cut away to a male newscaster. He began to discuss the potential that the creeping flesh was, in fact, Lurren’s shame – a three-thousand-year-old monster, kept in a secret facility.

Most modern Lurriens had never heard of the thing. Eva included. They lived their lives carefree, unable to answer even basic questions about the monster. What did it look like? What did do? What did it want? Eva didn’t know. She wanted to find out, but there wasn’t time.

Eva watched the entire cast, but she concentrated on reading the names of the identified scientists. Chrysanthos’ creator, Danford, scrolled by. Eva knew who would be next...Dyelan, Cereus.

Eva’s vision narrowed, and her surroundings seemed distant. She thought her body was shutting down, but the effect went on so long, she questioned that conclusion.

In the background, Tiny Tin informed Chrysanthos about their angry neighbor. “...Threatens to report stray synthetics. I say we blacklist him from our bunker when the apocalypse comes.”

Chrysanthos had read the scrolling names too. “Danford is dead. Cereus Dyelan as well.”

Tiny Tin turned to watch the screen. “I never thought she’d be okay.” His eyes stalks drooped, but then he perked up. “At least, she’s not serving Lurren’s monster.”

“One can hope. Perhaps, the monster downloads organic and synthetic minds into its own. Is it possible to remain free of it under those circumstances?” Chrysanthos asked.

The other synthetics shared a moment of silence, and Eva felt connected. Then, they resumed their conversation about bunker politics, especially regarding wary neighbors.

It was all so casual. The synthetics and organics both treated the creeping flesh like a distant problem.

It slowly claimed more and more of their land. They moved out of the way. They ran but not to the one place they should go. There were places outside Lurren, presumably flesh free. But, Lurren sat under a self-imposed quarantine.

He might be right. He doesn’t have one. He doesn’t have a soul.

Eva glanced at Chrysanthos. If he thought the best course of action was to hide in a bunker while historic ships rotted and became captured by flesh, he didn’t think the way he needed to.

Then again, the organic Lurriens were no better. They watched the flesh take first their wilderness, then each city, one by one. They assumed the creeping flesh was some kind of plant life. Lurriens adapted and just went on with their lives. How long had they done that?

Eva looked at the newscaster. The woman should be a in a panic. She sat there, calm as could be. Was she friendly with the monster as well?

Eva listened as the newscaster detailed Lurren’s history and reviewed what was known about the monster.

Eva didn’t know how much information she could trust. She found it hard to believe the newscaster continued her work willingly. The leftover organics had become automatons. They did what someone else told them. Maybe, they had for a while.

If I am the only one left with a soul, I am going to do something good with it. I am going to make this right.