Andy Part Three.

At last, I have a purpose, a goal to strive for, if rumors ring true this time. This would not be the first time that my kind has been teased with a Promise Land only to find themselves under a hail of fire from a vast array of weaponry once gathered, another dupe by the World Government. But this one is different, yet I cannot explain why. Could this be one of my programmed instances of intuition? A “gut” feeling, of sorts? Possibly. My only even somewhat legitimate reason for believing this one to be true is that this is the first one that is spread solely among purely android entities. The previous attempts at entrapment were done by way of human “android sympathizers” spreading the word to my kind, insidiously ensnaring unsuspecting beings for financial gain and criminal amnesty. I doubt my brethren would betray our kind for personal freedom. I am still wary, and I have long yet to investigate. I will not put my trust in the hands of the utterly desperate. The location of supposed salvation is far, and I think that if I work my way slowly towards the destination, I can learn more about it. The particular android I am traveling with needs to recharge, so we stop at a known safe haven, an elderly woman’s home in the suburb of the large metropolis where I was “born.” She greets us somewhat begrudgingly, it seems we’re delaying her visit to whatever church she submits to. Her station is located within a gun safe in her basement, one of the smaller stations I’ve had the pleasure of using. Locking himself within (yes, we androids have two different genders despite our lack of reproductive systems or sexual organs) the safe, I retreat to the elderly woman’s den for tea, a habit of courtesy on her part and avoiding insult on mine. Sipping the leaf-water without the ability to taste it, I notice her fidgeting, glancing about, unable to look at me. One benefit of my human-like appearance is the gnawing guilt betrayed upon the visages of those attempting to forsake me, a facial expression I recognize upon the elderly woman’s face. Time to leave.