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One

     Gideon rubbed his eyes, flipping on the flickering flashlight in his calloused hands. He pointed the bright light across the garage, peering over at his work bench, the source of the clattering.

     The robot's hands stopped as he creaked his head to the side to look over his shoulder at the beam of light on his back. The android, huffing and puffing, clambered to his feet and held up his hands in surrender. The only thing amidst the silence was the internal whirring sound coming from the android's chest.

     "What the hell?" Gideon started under his breath, hobbling forward on his creaking mechanical leg. He shined the light in the android's face, tilting his head as he shook his light. "Look, if you need a repair or somethin', we're closed," Gideon barked.

     "I am capable of—" The android started, cutting himself off, his mouth moving up and down but no sound emerging except a faint mechanical whirring. A few sparks flew from his left arm socket before the arm fell off entirely. "Oh, dear," He remarked.

     Gideon winced, watching the robot in his garage struggle. He sighed, setting down his flashlight on the hood of a car. "You need my help," Gideon huffed, crossing his arms as he surveyed the android's sparking stump of an arm.

The robot made a faint whirring noise. "Perhaps," He beeped. He bent over (with plenty of creaking) and picked up his arm, handing it out for Gideon to take.

***

The android was sat, slumped, atop the rickety wooden stool. Gideon had lit a cigar.

"What's your model?" Gideon asked through his cigar, sparks flitting around the stool as he worked at the droid's arm. "You look new. These wires are strange,"

"K12-A9," The android said proudly, squeaking his arm to his chest. Gideon rolled his eyes. "A K12? No wonder you're strange. I usually work with C16s and H7s, not K12s. Aren't you all built for the moneybags up in Hebe?"

The K12's body twitched as he was sparked by Gideon's tools. "We were designed to serve as secretaries and assistance to the Senate and the House," the droid said 'assistance' with a level of contempt.

Gideon rolled his eyes, tugging on the android's arm, assuring it didn't pop off. "Of course you are," He sat back in his stool, observing the droid with tired eyes, weathered from war and age. "Fuckin' Senate,"

The android frowned, unsure what to say for the first time since losing his job. "...The Senate advised mechanics not to work on higher tech androids until further notice,"

Gideon scoffed. "I'll tell them where to shove their notice,"

The android rolled his shoulders, feeling his arm socket. "...Thank you," He said, feeling down his hip. He finally pulled a thin metal slide out of his waist, picking a small copper disc out of it. "Take this,"

Gideon stared at the coin, hesitating before reaching out and taking it. It felt good to be paid, even if it still wasn't enough for food. He sighed, crossing his arms. "What are you doing here anyway?"

The android straightened. "The Senate has removed me from my position, and I refused cooperation with their authority, so I require a place of refuge,"

Gideon stared, dumbfounded, at the droid in front of him. "You couldn't have started with the fact that you're being chased by the cops?!"

The android beeped, flexing its mechanical fingers. "I didn't find it important,"

"You're leaving in the morning,"

"Why?"

"Because I don't want an unlicensed droid in my house. They could send me to Tyche for that. I don't want to live there with the homeless and the R.A.T.O.,"

"The R.A.T.O. scare me,"

"They scare everyone,"

"Do you think they'll really win the ban?"

They were both silent for a long while.

"...I don't want to be banned," the android followed up a few minutes later. Gideon frowned.

"What's your name?" Gideon asked after a few more seconds of silence. They felt like hours.

The droid considered the question. "People call me 'hey, you' most of the time,"

Gideon scoffed. "You must have a name. Every droid as a programmed name,"

The droid stared at the concrete floor of the garage. Sure, he had a programmed name. But nobody ever used it. "...Lenny,"