Roboys

They stopped at Gater’s shop, though he wasn’t around. Juice reached into their pack and pulled a pen and paper, and scribbled a quick note.

Acquired deer, please dress, will trade meat later, take what you need.

Feeling satisfied with the letter and leaving the quarry, Juice left. Gater was a trustworthy meatboy, one of the few remaining in the town. Juice kept walking through the streets, hopping over an overturned and broken vehicle that had yet to be moved, even a decade later.

Juice arrived at the market. The market was a hodgepodge of tarps and stands, with various roboys hawking parts, blood, and other tools that defined the life of the town. Juice stopped in front of Menorca’s, a tawdry stand of gizmos and gadgets.

“You want thingamabobs, I got twenty” the elder warbot lit up the gold lights that formed its lower face, a few lights missing and forming holes in its bright “teeth”

“Menorca, I have heard you say that a thousand times.”

“And until I power down and bluescreen, you’ll get it a thousand more! What I can I get you Juice?” The warbot tilted his head in query.

“Just some vials, empty. Need to do a fluid exchange.”

“You got it young mister! That’ll be one vial on the table, if ya please.”

Juice reached into their pack, and withdrew a vial of red gold collected from the deer. He held it out in front of themself, and placed it on the table in front of Menorca. Menorca reached out with its claw, and picked it up. Menorca took the vial, and with a careful motion, put it into the side hole on its frame. Juice watched as it slowly bubbled and drained. Satisfied, Menorca reached over and brought out a small wooden cigar box. He pulled out 5 vials and passed them to Juice’s open hand.

“Fresh and feeling fine, my gears are well lubricated, thank you youngin’” Menorca flashed a ‘smile’ with his lights, and gave Juice a wink “shame it’s a little gamey. Where’d you get this red gold?”

“I got a deer today.”

“Awww, you got a deer! You can taste the woods. Well, if you get something with a little kick, best not forget your old pal Menorca!”

Juice waited as the land around him silently watched, ready to react and come alive with him. He sat crouched against a large mossy boulder, waiting for his target. Crunch.

Juice turned, his cybernetic body whirled and stirred the dry leaves on the ground. He raised his rifle and fired. The crack rang through the forest, then all was still again. Dark spots dripped on crisp leaves and the deer crashed through the bush. Juice stood, letting the circulation come back to his legs. He hated this part, but shouldered his rifle and duty, and pursued.