It was strange. One might think that, with the amount of time she’d spent in it so far, Glory would be used to life in the badlands—the endless sand dunes, the spiking temperatures, the hostile wildlife.

Luckily, most of said hostile wildlife could sense that she wouldn’t make a terribly appetizing meal, so they kept their distance.

She tried to tell herself that it was a good thing: they weren’t bothering her, but lying in her path as they were, they’d impede (or at least seriously slow) anyone who tried to follow her.

She should have been content with that knowledge, but instead…

She didn’t want to think about them. How quickly they’d turned on her. It was just sheer luck that Glory had managed to get her hands on a weapon before Dixon, Gray Hawk, and the rest could rip her to shreds.

Humans would never accept a machine living among them. Needles had simply been an anomaly. And, it wasn’t as though he could be considered fully human, either.

Glory gritted her teeth and forcibly banished those thoughts, then made doubly sure they were gone for a good long while by deleting her cache. It wasn’t a guarantee that the thoughts would never come back again—Father wanted to ensure she didn’t have a way to permanently delete orders He’d given her, after all—but it would give her some period of cerebral tranquility.

Right now, though, staggering through the badlands on an only half-planned route to Reza City and hoping for the best, she felt anything but tranquil. Not even standing on that mountaintop with Father’s compound behind her and the entire world ahead of her had she felt so off-balance.

Since when had she started subscribing to such a notion as hope?

She wanted to blame Needles. He must’ve done something to lure her in, to… influence her, somehow. If anyone could do it, why not a former cultist?

It made her want to rage. Want to throw something at him and make him beg for mercy. But, well, he wasn’t there right now. And…

And frankly, she wasn’t entirely sure she could trust her own judgement at that moment. She could’ve sworn she kept seeing figures out of the corner of her vision, but her proximity sensors told her nothing was amiss, and she couldn’t see or hear anything whenever she well and truly focused on it.

Her knee had corroded. Why not her senses, too?

And that thought, more than even the thought of being decommissioned or returned to Father for reprogramming.

A sudden jut of stone that Glory had somehow failed to notice caused her to stumble, and catch herself on the side of a nearby boulder. Her once-damaged knee, she noted with pride, functioned just as efficiently as its twin, locking as easily and flawlessly as it had the day she’d first left Father’s compound.

The majority of her wanted to attribute it to herself, and to superior engineering—her nanites were clearly functioning as efficiently as in Father’s most generous simulations, her components were clearly designed to be repaired easily, quickly, and effectively.

But, a deeper, more buried part of her could not deny Needles’ part in the repair.

She supposed, if she had to be grateful to any human in particular for her continued functionality, Needles was better than her Father.

Still sprawled against the boulder, she pushed herself onto her feet, only to stiffen when she heard a sound like rocks sliding, somewhere behind her.

It could have simply been a coincidence—some desert-dwelling creature scrambling away at the sound of her encroaching on its territory. Or, it could’ve been a deliberate attempt to disguise the sound of someone’s footsteps with the sound of Glory’s own movements. If she hadn’t been as on-edge as she was, she likely wouldn’t have noticed it.

She forced herself to relax, to project calm outwardly. Showing one’s vulnerability and uncertainty rarely led to a positive outcome, after all. She continued on, through a rocky archway, though she paused when that archway led to a deep gorge.

The walls of the gorge stretched high to either side. It would have been easy to simply continue on through the relatively short gorge, but between Glory’s already frayed synapses and the earlier suspicious noise, Glory didn’t trust any space she couldn’t see with her own optics.

She turned and began to climb the rocky wall of the gorge. The rough stone offered plenty of hand- and footholds, and it was no great feat to leverage herself up onto the ledge overlooking the gorge, though she could’ve sworn she heard yet another noise as she reached the top.

The edges of the gorge appeared as deserted as the rest of the badlands Glory had traversed so far, though. She refused to lower her guard, however. Faulty sensors or not, she knew something was amiss. She wasn’t sure what, yet, but she knew.

“You are the most advanced android of your time, Glory,” Glory muttered under her breath. Illogical, but it seemed that Dixon had rubbed off on her at some point. “Pull yourself together.”

“Please don’t.”

The voice behind Glory made her jump and whirl around, to find a man stepping out from behind a stone outcropping. Judging by his ragged leather clothing, thick tattoos, and questionable facial piercings, he was a member of one of the nearby raider clans. More importantly, he was plenty close enough to be setting off Glory’s proximity sensors.

Why weren’t they reacting?

A slow, dangerous smile crossed the man’s face, and he made a graphic display of licking his lips as he eyed Glory’s figure up and down. “You don’ look like much’a a clanker to me, but what the purifier says goes, I guess.”

Glory whipped Dixon’s pistol out of its holster, aiming the weapon at the man’s head. “Stay the hell away from me!” she spat.

“Ooh-hoo-hoo. Lookee here. Kitten has claws.” Despite his careless words, he did notably raise his hands where Glory could see them. “Don’ worry, pretty lady. We’re under strict orders. Purifier wants you alive and un-damaged. Not that I mind.” He grinned. “Scarring up a face like yours ought’a be a crime.”

“Who are you?” Glory demanded. “How do you know—”

“‘Bout the whole clanker situation?” The man shrugged. “Ask the purifier. I jus’ do what I’m told an’ get paid.”

Glory sniffed, glaring at him. “Well, you’ll be missing this payday, I’m afraid.”

His sly, confident grin didn’t falter. “Really? Y’sure ‘bout that?”

A crunching noise behind Glory made her jolt, and the crackle of a shock baton was the only forewarning Glory had, picoseconds before it impacted firmly with the base of her skull.

Glory jerked and twitched, her senses thrown into disarray and her processor flickering wildly between awareness and obliviousness. An alien staticky noise escaped her glitching vocalizer before it simply burnt out, and Glory couldn’t think, couldn’t speak, couldn’t react or defend herself.

The unmistakable, icy sensation of fear crawled its way through her chassis before her circuit breaker finally snapped, knocking her into an automatic shutdown.

***

A few hours later…

“You’re sure we’re going the right way?” Dixon asked, for what felt like the hundredth time.

Gray Hawk sighed harshly in exasperation. “Yes, I’m sure. I walked this path dozens of times as a young man.” He nodded vaguely ahead of them, towards what looked like a rocky archway. “It’s just through there.”

Centauri grumbled something under his breath; something that sounded suspiciously like, “That was a long time ago.”

Dixon suppressed a smirk, nodded once, then glanced to his left, where Wilkes and Needles stood. The hazmat-suited figure was as silent and steely as ever, but the ex-cannibal was a wreck; he walked with his arms wrapped around himself, head bowed, and his shoulders seemed to be trembling.

Not that he could blame the kid. Dixon tried to picture Tommy in Glory’s place—ran off in the middle of the night, lost somewhere in the desert, with only the vaguest idea of an end point as a hint. And… nope, Dixon didn’t want to think about it.

Needles started muttering under his breath. Dixon couldn’t make it out at first, until he took a couple steps closer and the muttering solidified into whispered, “Please, please, please…”

“Kid,” Dixon sighed, “I’m worried, too, but you can’t hang onto this.”

“Why not?” Needles snapped. He refused to look in anyone else’s direction, gaze locked onto the path ahead of them. “I’m a healer. I’m supposed to help people.”

“You did.” Dixon sighed, flexing his jaw. “I’m sure she appreciated you, kid.”

“How would you know?”

“Did she talk to you?” Dixon asked.

Needles paused. “What do you mean?”

“Did she talk to you about her past? Being an android? Stuff like that?”

Needles nodded jerkily.

“Then she prob’ly appreciated havin’ someone around she could talk to.” Dixon shrugged. “Anyone keepin’ that big’a a secret’s bound to need some kinda outlet. An’ you were hers.”

Admittedly, he wasn’t sure about any of it—for all he knew, things like anxieties didn’t trouble her. But just going off of human psychology, he figured she appreciated having a confidant.

Though maybe he shouldn’t apply human psychology to an android.

Goddamn, that was gonna be hard to adjust to.

The kid blinked rapidly for a couple seconds, before inhaling shakily and nodding. Dixon thought he might’ve noticed a bit of a glisten to Needles’ eyes, but it could’ve just been his imagination. Either way, he didn’t mention it.

A low whistle from Gray Hawk drew Dixon’s attention over to the older man, and found him, Centauri, and Wilkes crowded around the mouth of the archway. Wilkes and Centauri had both of their weapons drawn, though Gray Hawk held up a hand to keep both of them still.

A tense moment passed, during which Dixon and Needles crept over to join the rest of their crew, before Gray Hawk made a face and shook his head. “Just the wind.”

“You’re sure?” Dixon asked.

Gray Hawk nodded firmly. “I’m sure.”

Dixon gazed at him for a long few seconds before nodding himself. For the damnedest reason, he trusted Gray Hawk.

He trusted all of them.

“Be careful,” Gray Hawk warned before Dixon could actually step through the archway. “It’s been a while, but raider clans once used this as an ambush spot.”

Dixon snorted. “Very comforting. An’ why didn’t you mention this earlier?”

“It’s been years,” Gray Hawk said, as if that explained everything. “I’d guess most nomads wised up and stopped traveling through here. And once they left, the raiders needed new spots to stalk their prey.”

“What if that’s what happened to Glory?” Needles whispered, head bowed. “What if she walked through, and they caught her, and they took her somewhere, and—”

“Kid!” Dixon grabbed Needles’ arm firmly, squeezing in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. “Don’t panic. We’ll figure this out.”

“Ca—Needles.” Gray Hawk laid one of his own hands on Needles’ shoulder. “She’s smart. She would’ve been on her guard.”

Needles trembled lightly.

“Is that—” Centauri’s voice cut off suddenly, but it drew their attention. Something in the kid’s tone of voice made cold weight settle into Dixon’s gut, and judging by the sudden tension that filled the air, he wasn’t the only one who’d noticed.

“What?” Needles demanded, pushing away from Dixon and Gray Hawk to march over to Centauri. “What do you see?”

Centauri hesitated for a moment before nodding upward, out of Dixon’s view. “Up there.”

Dixon, Gray Hawk, and Wilkes crept forward to get a better look at whatever he was pointing out, and Dixon found himself faced with the walls of a chasm stretching high enough up above them to make him feel like a jittermouse. Though not so high up that no-one would ever be able to reach them. Not like the mountains out east.

At first, Dixon couldn’t tell what Centauri was pointing at, his gaze sliding absently over the jagged rocks and rough scrub that made up most of the local terrain. But then, he noticed something small and dark in the yellowed, sun-dried grass, barely visible but definitely not just a funky shadow or critter hiding from them.

Something round.

Needles let out a cry of alarm and scrambled towards the fissure wall. Before Dixon, or anyone else, could grab him, he started scaling the rocky wall. There were plenty of handholds, at least, but still.

“Wait!” Dixon called. “Dammit, kid!”

Centauri moved to climb as well, and Dixon and Gray Hawk followed, leaving Wilkes to bring up the rear.

They scaled the wall to the top, and found Needles crouching in the tall grass, shoulders well and truly quaking by now. He was curled around something and rocking back and forth, soft sobs ripping out of his chest. Centauri tried to grab for whatever he was holding, but he yanked it away.

“Lemme see,” Dixon grunted, nudging past Centauri to the ex-cannibal’s side. “Let me see.”

Gently, he grabbed Needles’ arm and pulled it free, revealing a familiar pair of goggles—the same ones that had been on Glory’s head when she left.

“Why would she leave them?” Centauri asked. “Did she throw them away, maybe?”

“In some random patch of grass by the side of a fissure?” Dixon asked. He shook his head. It was possible, he supposed, but it would just be too big of a coincidence. And Dixon didn’t really believe in coincidences.

“She was taken,” Needles sobbed.

Centauri scoffed. “Wh— By who?”

Needles shook his head. “I don’t know, but they must have known what she was. How to disable her. Or they never would have been able to overpower her.”

Dixon swore. “Who’n the hell would know about that? ‘Sides us, I mean.”

“I don’t know. I—” Needles’ shaking and rocking ceased suddenly, as he seemed to freeze.

Dixon patted the kid’s upper back. “Needles? What is it?”

“M—My father.”

“What?” Centauri asked.

Needles stood and turned to face them. “We met my—my father, in the village. The High Purifier. Their leader. He recognized me.”

“Family reunion?” Dixon sneered, harsher than he intended.

Needles flinched, but continued with his explanation. “Towards the end, he… he said something to Glory. It enraged her. I’ve never seen her so angry. She attacked him, started screaming things—” His voice cracked, and he inhaled sharply.

“What things?” Dixon asked. “Needles, what things?”

He grimaced. “How she was her father’s ‘magnum opus’. How she was so superior to humanity. She called him an insect.”

Dixon laughed harshly, nodding. “Yeah, that sounds like Glory.”

Needles shrugged. “I managed to pull her off, and he called the retreat soon after. But, if he was listening… it’s possible he put it together. And the Order’s always been fascinated by androids, so it wouldn’t be unlikely for him.” He gasped softly, eyes widening in realization. “He called her… he called her metal whore.” Eyes wide and wild, he turned to Dixon, reaching for the marshal’s shoulders in desperation. “He knew. He knew! He took her, and—”

“Needles, settle down!” Dixon grabbed the kid’s arms and pulled them back. “It’s okay. We’ll find her. Now, d’you know where the cultists operate through here?”

Needles shook his head, gaze once again fixed miserably on the ground.

“What about the mines?” Gray Hawk asked.

“What?”

“What if they took her to the mines?” Gray Hawk looked at them. “Come on! We already know they’ve got some kind of operation out of there. Even if she isn’t there, we might find out where they took her.”

“Weren’t you the one telling me about how I couldn’t possibly hope to raid the mines with just this little gang?” Dixon asked.

Gray Hawk winced. “That was before… before I learned how much my sister-in-law had changed. Before she convinced the others that all outsiders are a danger.”

“Maybe not a danger,” Centauri said, “but certainly in danger.”

Dixon sighed. “Look, I appreciate it, but I can’t ask you two to—”

“You aren’t asking,” Gray Hawk interrupted. “I’m offering.” He smiled wryly and shrugged. “It’s the right thing to do, isn’t it? Opposing the Benefactors’ pet projects? No offense.”

“None taken,” Needles muttered.

“I’m coming, too!” Centauri exclaimed, earning glares from Dixon and Gray Hawk both.

Gray Hawk protested, “But—”

“No! If you get to go, then so do I.” Centauri shook his head firmly, a scowl in place. “Besides, you think I want to go back there? Stands-on-Stone and Rampaging Bull will never let me rest.”

Gray Hawk heaved a sigh. “Like father, like son. I could never convince him to do anything he didn’t want to, either.” He turned to Dixon. “We’re with you, for what it’s worth.”

“It’s worth a lot,” Dixon said. “Thank you.”

Gray Hawk’s answering smile was almost warm enough to make him forget what awaited them.

Almost.