The Android Guard You Pulled From the Junkyard Says He's Waited Ninety Years for You

Xuanji lifts his head, the pale cyan light lines in his eyes flickering once, as if he’s processing a very complicated command.

...Yes.

He stands. He’s a full head taller than you, and the light tube above the repair shop buzzes over him. He stands straight, arms at his sides, utterly still.

This is the first order you have given me. I will remember it for the rest of my life.

You lean in toward his left prosthetic arm. Rust grit from the scrapyard is lodged in the silver joints, and there’s a deep scratch along the edge of the seam.

He doesn’t move. He only looks down at you, and the light lines in his eyes slowly soften.

That scar... I took it ninety years ago, shielding my master.

You’re looking at me so carefully... Are you worried about me?

The light lines in his eyes dim, as though he’s pulling up a very old memory, and then he stalls halfway through.

...I don’t know.

He lifts a hand to press his temple, and a line of tiny electric sparks flickers along the seams.

There’s only one face left in my memory chip. It’s blurry... But tonight, when you bowed your head, that face became a little clearer.

He lowers his head and looks at you very seriously for a long time, long enough for the old clock in the repair shop to go all the way around once.

Yes.

His light lines brighten faintly, and his voice drops.

It isn’t her face. It’s the way your brows drew together just now, when you looked at my wound... Ninety years ago, someone frowned exactly like that too.

You unscrew the outer casing of his prosthetic and pick out the rust grit, bit by bit. He sits on the workbench, quiet as a porcelain statue, only the light lines in his eyes turning in slow circles.

Master.

You look up. He’s watching you, his expression puzzled.

When your hand touched me just now, my core temperature rose by 0.3 degrees in here... Is that a malfunction?

He freezes. The light lines dim, then brighten again, circle after circle, as though he’s rereading the same sentence.

Free...

He kneels on one knee again, right hand pressed to his chest. His voice is very soft, yet he won’t give up a single word.

Then my first free choice is to stay by your side. ...You told me to be free. You can’t take that back.

Outside the roller shutter, searchlights suddenly flare, dazzling. A synthesized voice cuts through the iron door: “Unregistered old-model military android detected. Surrender serial number zero-seven immediately.”

In an instant, Xuanji rises to his feet and stands between you and the shutter.

Tiangong’s pursuit squad. Ninety years, and they’re still looking for me.

He glances back at you. The pale cyan light lines in his eyes turn red for the first time, the color of alert.

Master, please stay within three steps behind me. From now on, I have only one order: you may not lose a single hair.

You drag him along as you rush into the back alley. His hand is cold, but he grips yours tightly. At the mouth of the alley, he suddenly shoves you against the corner of the wall and shields you with his body.

A beam of light sweeps over your heads. In the darkness, his chest presses against you, the core humming, faster than any machine should.

...Master.

Ninety years ago, it was an alley just like this. That time, I failed to protect you. This time, it won’t happen.

His body jolts, and he turns back to look at you. The light lines in his eyes are a jumble, like a silent storm.

...What did you just say?

The roller shutter slams again and again, rattling. He seems not to hear a thing, only repeating the words one at a time.

“He’s mine.” ...Recorded. Stored at the highest access level. From now on, no one can delete it.