With Respect to Respect (and Robots)

“It was another sunny day with dark clouds on the horizon; the young man knew he had only a short window for his afternoon walk. He stopped for a moment as his eyes darted across the horizon. Something was off, but he didn’t know what. He turned to—”

“Mark?”

“He asked.”

Andris slowly approached the overgrown planter where he thought he heard the noise. As suspected, he found Mark Seven relaxing against a tree behind the foliage, legs crossed and hands in her coat pockets. “Ah! Specialist Greene,” she greeted.

“Just Andris is fine,” he insisted for what was probably the fifth time. “What are you doing back there?”

“Park security.”

“Isn’t Swweets in charge of that?”

“Yes, but he’s technically hiring me, too.” Mark puffed on her cigarette. “Makes you think, doesn’t it? He must know his crew’s rotten, on some level.”

Andris couldn’t help but grin a little. He’d only known Mark for a few months, but the way she spoke had instantly endeared her to him. She was obviously having fun with her dramatic looks into the distance and her almost-transatlantic accent. “Or he just knows an expert when he sees one,” Andris suggested.

Mark smiled proudly for a moment, straightening her tie. “They do say one should dress for the job one wants.” She then clarified, “Though I’ve also always been dressing for the job I already had.”

Then, something occurred to Andris. “Are you actually being paid?” He hadn’t seen anyone use money since he woke up from stasis. He figured it had all gone to bartering at this point.

“If you count the satisfaction of a job well-done, then, yes.”

Now that was a surprise. At the very least, he expected Swweets to have paid her with nice lodgings or some other special privilege. “He’s giving you nothing?”

“Not if I’m satisfied with my work. Did you hear what I said?”

“Mark.”

“Andris.”

He scoffed. “You can’t just work for free. That’s slavery!” He paused, wondering if he was being hyperbolic, but last he remembered, that was the definition of slavery. “Yeah— you need to walk in there and demand something.” He glanced to each side to ensure there was no one who was actually in Swweets’s crew around. Just in case, he leaned in and lowered his volume. “You know how easily you could threaten him, right?”

As Andris spoke, Mark simply raised an eyebrow and nonchalantly blew some smoke to the side. “Sure, but I don’t plan on it,” she replied. Just as her friend was about to protest again, she explained, “Only humans have to worry about what they get for their work. You have needs. I’m free from nonsense like that.”

For a moment, Andris paused. He supposed that made some sense. Mark didn’t need food or water or shelter, so maybe she technically didn’t need any compensation for what she was doing. Maybe the satisfaction in her work was all— “That sounds like bullshit to me.”

The android laughed. “Alright.”

“You may not be human, but you’re definitely a person. And you may not need food, but I’m sure you need something.” He didn’t think he’d get so heated about this—Mark seemed content with the situation—but here he was. “What is it, fuel?”

“I’m mostly solar-powered.”

“Bullets?”

“It’s called scavenging. And sometimes theft.”

“Okay, you can ask for bullets, then.”

“That is absolutely no fun.”

“Fun!” Andris exclaimed, “Maybe that’s a need. You could ask Swweets for access to exclusive rides or something.”

Mark only smirked. “To quote a friend of mine, ‘that sounds like bullshit to me’.”

Andris groaned. He still stood by the whole “Mark’s schtick is endearing” thing, but on occasion it did feel more like he was talking to a stubborn child than a highly complex machine. Mark observed Andris’s frustration for a moment before saying, “Don’t take it personally, Greene. I know you’re just trying to help.”

Andris returned a perplexed smile. In the ensuing silence, he tried to figure out why on Earth he cared so much if Mark didn’t seem to care at all. “What I’m trying to say is,” he began, “I think you can be programmed to think you don’t need things that you do need. Well—any creature that learns can be trained to, anyway. I don’t know if the people who made you were mean enough to actually program you like that... But I digress. You’re doing Swweets a favor, and you deserve something in return. I don’t even think it matters if you strictly need it or not. It’s about basic respect.”

Mark gnawed on the end of her cigarette; her mind apparently wasn’t on keeping up appearances anymore. That was the only way to tell she was actually thinking through something difficult. One couldn’t count on the typical indicators of a furrowed brow and a determined look in the eyes, since those were essential parts of Mark’s default expression. She finally looked at Andris and said, “If it’s important to you, I’ll ask him for something.”

Another unexpected turn in the conversation. “Really?”

Mark nodded, then put out her cigarette by swallowing it whole.

“Thank you.” Andris felt a genuine smile come out. “I’m glad you find your work satisfying, but you deserve some recognition, too.”

“I appreciate it.” Although she responded with her usual gruffness, her expression was one of genuine warmth.