Contents
Book 1:
- Intro - 5 to 7
- A Change In Vocation - 9 to 27
- The Best Tea Monk in Panga - 29 to 53
- Splendid Speckled Mosscap- 55 to 71
- An Object, and an Animal- 73 to 82
- Remnants - 83 to 102
- Grass Hen with Wilted Greens and Caramelized Onions - 103 to 112
- The Wild - 113 to 126
- The Summer Bear - 127 to 150
Book 2:
- Intro - 155 to 156
- The Highway - 157 to 164
- The Woodlands - 165 to 190
- The Riverlands - 191 to 231
- The Coastlands - 233 to 251
- The Shrublands - 253 to 275
- The Detour - 277 to 294
Quotes
[99] “Specifically, the elk wrecked the ecosystem there. They ventured into places they hadn’t before, and they ate everything. Shrubs, saplings, everything. Soon, there was no ground cover, and the soil was eroding, and it was fucking up waterways, and all sorts of other species were thrown out of whack because of it. A huge mess. But if you think about it from the elk’s perspective, this is the greatest thing that ever happened. The whole reason they never went into those fields before is because they were afraid. They lived under constant fear of a wild dog jumping out and eating them or their young at any moment. That is an awful way to live. It must have been such a relief to be free of predators and eat whatever the hell they wanted. But that was the exact opposite of what the ecosystem needed. The ecosystem required the elk to be afraid in order to stay in balance. But elk don’t want to be afraid. Fear is miserable, as is pain. As is hunger. Every animal is hardwired to do absolutely anything to stop those feelings as fast as possible. We’re all just trying to be comfortable, and well-fed, and unafraid. It wasn’t the elk’s fault. The elk just wanted to relax.”
[100] Mosscap nodded slowly. "So, the paradox is that the ecosystem as a whole needs its participants to act with restraint in order to avoid collapse, but the participants themselves have no inbuilt mechanism to encourage such behaviour." "Other than fear."
[181] Welcome comfort, they reminded themself, rubbing the little pectin-printed bear with their thumb. Without it, you cannot stay strong.
[193] “The point they’re making,” Mosscap said, pointing a metal finger at the screen, “is that complex intelligence and self-awareness arise out of an external need. A social need, an environmental need, whichever. Something pushed those creatures into needing to be more clever.” Its eyes glowed more brightly. “So, what sort of need pushed us robots into waking up?”
[216] “Yes, but still, it’s close enough to the original source that it biodegrades. And that is what ultimately separates the organic from the synthetic, is it not? All ingredients on Panga had to first exist on Panga. Everything is natural in origin, but if you turn it into something that nature can no longer recycle, then you’ve removed it from that realm entirely. It no longer has a part to play. Just like me. I’m an observer, not a participant.”
[273] “What do robots need?” Dex’s dad asked. The robot before him fell silent, so he expanded on the thought. “We—my family, I mean—we have everything we could possibly want here. It’s a good life. We need nothing, as I told you. But being a good neighbor is all about making sure that the people you share land and air and water with don’t need anything either. So . . . what do your people need? Are you doing okay?”
“We’re not people,” Mosscap said, “but . . .” It was clearly contemplating the question. “I... I haven’t considered this before. Yes we're... we're doing just fine. Materially, we don't require anything beyond a full battery, and we can provide that for ourselves. We have sufficient components to continue building new generations, for a time.”
For a time?” Dex’s dad repeated. “How much time?”
“I don’t know,” Mosscap said.
Dex’s dad frowned. “What happens when you run out of stuff to rebuild with?”
“Then we go extinct, so to speak,” Mosscap said. “Just as everything does. Just as humans will, one day. No other living thing knows when their line will come to an end, so we haven’t bothered to calculate it either. That would do more harm than good, I think.”
This answer clearly surprised Dex’s dad, who had the same thrown-off look most people did whenever Mosscap made comments of that sort. “So . . .” He took a moment to reestablish his conversational footing. “You have all your basics. Just like we have here.”
“In essence, yes.”
[291] "I’ve been nowhere with you where those needs aren’t provided for. And when people interpret my question beyond the things you require to stay alive and healthy, it gets . . .”
“Complicated?”
Mosscap nodded, looking exhausted. “Every answer I’ve received falls into one of two categories. Every single one.” The robot gestured emphatically with its metal fingers. “The first category is extremely specific things. ‘I need my bicycle fixed so I can deliver these goods to another village.’ ‘We need to prepare better for the next time the river floods.’ ‘I need to find my dog.’ Things like that. Either a very personal, individual need or a broader need within the community, but all in all, specific and isolated.”
“Okay. And the second category?”
“The second category is esoteric. Philosophical. I get answers such as ‘purpose,’ or ‘adventure,’ or ‘companionship.’ A broad requirement the person has in regards to feeling satisfaction with their life. Some people lack whatever it is and are searching for it, but others already have it. They interpret the question as me asking what aspects of their lives they would not want to do without, not as an unmet need. And I hadn’t considered this, at the start. Must a need be unmet if it is to satisfy my question?”
Dex exhaled and shook their head. “You tell me, Mosscap,” they said. “I have no fucking idea.”
“Neither do I, and that’s just it. I thought this was the most bothersome thing on my mind until I spoke with your father the other night and he asked me what I need.” Mosscap dropped the stick and turned to face them. “Sibling Dex, I don’t know. I don’t know at all. So, what am I supposed to do now? How am I to ask my question of others when I can’t answer it for myself?”
Dex listened to this complaint, and as they processed it, a slow, wry, not-at-all-funny smile spread across their face.
“How am I supposed to tell people they’re good enough as they are when I don’t think I am?” they said.
Mosscap responded with a single heavy nod. “You see,” it said. “You understand. I wish you didn’t, because I know it means you’re as tangled up as I am, but . . . I’m grateful that you do.”