Snowfall

Though my sensors continually monitored the environment around us, that was an automatic process, so, treading onward, I focused most of my attention on following the big black cat and his smaller tawny brown sister as they dashed around like kittens in the snow, their paws sinking into the cold white stuff. 

Snowflakes adorned the long whiskers of the black cat. He paused and shook himself to dislodge some snow from his dark flank then ran after his playfellow, lumbering where she danced.

I consistently monitored their energy expenditure at the same time as I appreciated their exuberance triggered by the most recent snowfall. Aerial movement distracted me for a few seconds until I could confirm without a doubt that it was only a flock of seagulls ranging inland to scavenge.

When the little huntress delivered the killing bite to a vole that chose the wrong time to venture out into the snow, both cats toyed with their prey before abandoning it due to not being hungry. Always careful about their provisions, I retrieved the tiny corpse and dropped it into a freezer compartment under my left hip before following them a little farther into the winter landscape. 

When I judged they were on the verge of needing rest, I halted my own forward motion and said, “Come.”

They ignored me, as expected, so I had to use a more persuasive vocal combination. “Mmmmuharah-marah,” I murmured, which was part of the love language I used with them from the day that I found them outside the abandoned human dwelling.

The little queen looked around herself as if newly aware of the cold air, the wetness of the snow, then allowed herself a delicate shiver and hastened toward me.

I extended my left arm so that she could race up it, her claws digging into the dense fabric until she ducked underneath my armpit and entered the warm cave where I felt her padding in a circle, several times round as always. Finally, she settled, her paws pressing on my yielding inner surface in a rhythmic motion that would once have coaxed milk from their mother cat. 

The big tom glanced at me and plodded on regardless though he obviously wasn’t enjoying the snow as much without a companion to chase.

“Mmmmuharah-marah,” I whispered, this time on a lilting tone which caught his attention.

His ears swiveled toward me, then the round face turned, green eyes glowing. He crouched low, tail high, wiggling his bottom as if to rev some organic engine then pounced in my direction and galloped through the snow, kicking up white puffs from the impact of his paws as he raced.

I made his usual space available and balanced myself, leaning forward and making my arms into two horizontal steps for him to clamber into my chest. He nosed about a while as if checking that nobody else had been sleeping in his burrow while he was outside exploring.

When they both were finally snoozing, I closed both apertures to keep them from getting cold. Of all the data flows that currently accumulated in my memory circuits, I absorbed myself with the steady breathing of the two cats, the whisper of the heating system which kept them at the ideal temperature for their catnaps, the thrum of the filter which prevented any impurities from invading the crannies where each nestled but delivered the breathable air they needed to survive.

When I had first adopted them, I came across a forgotten workshop. There, I rigged a circuit that would release them both instantly if my own vital signs decreased, making it as fail safe as I could should anything disable my functioning. I would not want to become their tomb.

Scanning the horizon in all directions simultaneously, I reoriented myself and continued onward. I tested at regular intervals the energy cell located in the middle of my back, but it had not revived despite the abundance of sunshine over the past few days. Perhaps we would find another workshop where I could recharge so my jet pack would be useful again. 

The longer we journeyed, the less likely that prospect was, but the search gave a purpose to our wanderings. I had a legion of quadrants which I had not searched yet that might yield a result. 

I doubted that we would encounter an established and vibrant community of humans though this was why I originally began to explore, since it was coded in me to serve humanity.

If we did discover such a colony, I must somehow keep both cats hidden as I had no wish to relinquish them under any circumstances. I was their guardian. They only knew me as they probably didn’t remember their mother cat who had gone out to hunt and never returned. I suspected a wolf had taken her from them.

Being fully capable of self-repair, I would not yield myself to any human’s mechanical skills. And, if need be, I could motor away at quite a high rate of speed though afterward my solar panels must recharge.

I lifted my metallic face to the falling snowflakes and wondered briefly what flesh would be like. Yet, being what I was, I was a much better protector to the two cats. I could offer them instant safety, protection from the elements, and help them in their hunts as well as keep away any larger animals such as wolves.

My armaments were meager compared to some of my brethren, but then I had not been built for war, merely to keep the peace and advance scientific understanding back when the world was a much simpler place. 

The face of my maker rose up, overlaid upon the winter landscape, but I knew this was not a real communication, just memory. Her long braids, the deliberately archaic clothing she wore, woven and dyed by her own hands, seemed more suited to a storyteller than to a scientist. She had told stories well, held those cadences in her speaking voice which I relished so much.

When I tracked my way back to her abode when signal was first lost, her body was already buried, one of the early losses in the tribulations. I deposited a small memory cube to honour her many contributions to the scientific effort to save the planet, her attempts to stop the havoc which humanity thoughtlessly wreaked on the natural world.

I listened most carefully but her voice held only rhythm and tonality, no actual words much less any directives to follow. Not a recording but an amalgam spontaneously originating from memory. That this could happen was due to her genius, but sadly I could not report the phenomenon to her.

Since losing her to the mortality that affects all humans, I had to make my own decisions, weigh risks and predict outcomes which, of course, I was designed to do. But what bothered me most, I lacked a final human arbiter for any of my conclusions. I must needs always make my best choice according to the knowledge she imbued me with blended with the findings of my own experience, the daily learning curve she impressed upon me to be of utmost importance because change is constant everywhere. Whoever and whatever does not adapt to change will not survive as well as those that do.

More often than not, consideration of my two living passengers influenced me. Though I could easily climb into the high mountains, the environment would be too harsh for them and lacking in prey for their sustenance, no matter how many mice I stashed in cold storage. I diverted my path from what would have been a more direct route.

If not for the cats, I would be trekking alone from one human habitation to the next, always hoping to find signs of life but never yet succeeding. I refused to believe my odyssey impossible, partly from the stubborn spirit which my maker implanted in me, but also because at the very edge of my awareness, I sometimes detected intermittent faint signals which were irregular enough to not be automated. These could not be born of imagination for, not being human, I lacked that quality.

I craved other company, certainly, not so much in wanting to discover the fellowship that I once enjoyed with my maker. I never expected to develop that again with anyone. Rather, to be of service, to assist and support, and to carry out every aspect of my functionality for the sake of the humanity whom my maker had done her utmost to rescue from the stupidity of generations.