It was my turn to choose where to take Mikri on Earth, and the real question was how much I could get away with. There were three sets of criteria I judged my ideas on: that the cultural event I'd drag his metal tushie to was loud, crowded, and most importantly, would allow me to make fun of him.

That was how we ended up baking under the hot sun at a NASCAR speedway. The three of us had been fighting before we left the parking lot! Mikri already played dead in his wheelchair twice when asked for selfies, which was an interesting strategy; I wasn't sure how it'd work out for him. Sofia wasn't impressed by my idea in the slightest, in comparison to her heartfelt jaunt off to Spain, and was criticizing even my earnest desires to help Mikri. It'd gone something like this.

"Mikri, you have wheels. You should be out on the track!" I declared, an excited smile on my face.

The android whirred in disagreement. "You have yet to give me an engine. If you had, I would reach escape velocity—and I mean escaping whatever I am about to be put through."

"Nonsense. You're gonna love this! Parking sucks, but let me just get the cutesy blue space here—"

"You're not handicapped, other than mentally! What is wrong with you?" Sofia objected.

Backseat drivers. "Mikri is in a wheelchair. That makes this a handicapped transit vehicle. Look at the poor robobo."

Mikri emitted a piteous whine, and looked up at Sofia with puppy dog eyes that belonged in a Humane Society commercial. "Mama, help me. I sad baby."

"Okay, no!" Sofia curled up the magazine she was reading, and swatted Mikri on the wrist. "Fuck off with that shit. Preston is perfectly capable of walking a few extra minutes and leaving that space to someone who needs it. Someone who has a permit, unlike two able-bodied astronauts who aren't transporting someone who can't walk at all."

"Able-bodied? I am Caelumcapped, X-Chromosomes; my muscles are no longer built to handle Sol physics. Be reasonable," I responded.

"Are you seriously going to tell me that's on the same level as muscular dystrophy?!"

"No. I'm just saying, if no one else is using it, we should have dibs."

"Preston Myles Carter. Go park the car in a normal space, or I'll tell Mikri how I found out you're deathly afraid of mic—"

"Evil witch! Have it your way."

I did the Hokey Pokey and turned the car around, pulling into a lousy space just like everyone else. Sofia wouldn't let me have any fun, even though Mikri was totally on board to play the pity card! I distracted myself by rolling the android through the metal detector multiple times, despite being told to go around, and listening to the loud beeps of the machine. Clearly, the robot was a security threat and needed a thorough frisk, I told the guard. He was having none of it, and sent us into the stadium with an insistent look.

Once inside, my priority was to make a beeline for the concessions, so that Mikri could get the full race day experience. The hotdog vendors were irresistible, whatever that droid thought about them always wanting food. I ordered a chili cheese dog for myself, while Sofia reluctantly picked out a plain one with onions: bor-ing. My phone buzzed in my pocket, but I ignored it without a moment's thought. We headed to our section of the bleachers with the food, while I devilishly planned how to trick Mikri into wearing some merch.

Every human was staring at the polycarbonate and steel distraction, which was promising for me. This could be a fantastic meme by nightfall!

"So good," I said through a full mouth, as the overloaded hotdog bun broke apart in my hands. Chili and cheese dripped all over my hands, with some sliding down onto my shirt and smearing away from my lips. Mikri stared at my sloppy eating, noting how I sucked the juice off my fingers. "Earth is the best!"

The android appeared frustrated. "I can hardly understand what you are saying, Messton! How can it be good, if it is falling apart to the point that you cannot insert it into your mouth?"

"That's how you know it's good, Mikri. Just glorious sludge that tastes so fucking amazing that you're licking it off your hands like an anteater."

Sofia threw a napkin at me with disgust. "More like a swine. I've seen four-year-olds make less of a mess, and they throw food! Do you have any manners?"

"Depends. Is today Wednesday?"

"No, but what does—"

"I'm sorry, the manners subroutine is currently unavailable. Please check back later."

I shoved the last of my hotdog in my mouth, and went to wipe my fingers off. I went to use Mikri's mane as a napkin, but Sofia blocked my hand and gave me a death glare. Could she just let me be a force of chaos for my one day in charge of the tour?! I cleaned my hands and face with the boring paper square, deciding my shirt was basically a lost cause. The android didn't try to give away my seat when I threw out the trash, which surprised me. I would've had it coming.

Mikri looks like he wants to ask me for an explanation; I've seen him turn to Sofia with that look. I did go over the rules with him, so I wonder what's on his mind?

"Messton." The Vascar's metal body reflected the bright sunlight, as he gazed out at the race cars that were about to take off. "Of all of the things you could show me about humanity, why did you choose this activity?"

I gave Mikri a look of surprise. "Really? Mikri, isn't it obvious?"

"No, there is nothing obvious about you. I know that sports are important to you and could understand the personal interest, but this is not one of your fixations. Your actions often fall beyond the already-irrational parameters of organic whims, and rarely have any semblance of logical coherence. I require an explanation."

"Do you know what Vascar sounds just like? NASCAR! It's perfect. It's the game of your people, Mikri!"

For the third time today, Mikri played dead, but in this instance, it seemed like he'd actually short-circuited. I couldn't believe the tin can had needed me to spell it out!

"I knew it!" Sofia threw up her hands, flabbergasted. "Did you seriously, on your one opportunity to choose an important memory that you would want Mikri to remember you by…drag us across the ocean for a stupid pun?!"

I grinned. "Yep."

"Preston! I opened my heart and soul to Mikri, and made myself vulnerable by sharing a deeply personal story, so that he could understand humans with authenticity. I showed him more about who I am, and tried to ease his worries over our relationship with AI. You could put in some effort to show him something…meaningful to our culture."

"There's always a method to my madness. Give me some credit; there's more of a purpose than just that it's funny." My phone rang again, and I gritted my teeth, considering blocking the number. Today wasn't going to be ruined by those no-good… "Mikri isn't wrong that I was going to take him to see sports. I think it's important for him to witness games and fun, and to be part of an event; that's what I was gonna do with my life."

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"You appear to be 'reaching.' Why do you think that I would be interested in car races?" Mikri chimed in. "These top speeds in Sol are slow compared to mundane vehicles in Caelum."

"Yeah, sure—I mean, exactly! I'd hope the joy of competition is enough, but…you'd have to love seeing the engineering of our cars, since you would probably appreciate an intellectual side to sports. It's a lot harder just to zip around a track here, and we did it in spite of the struggles. Look how much horsepower these things have; calculate how fast they would be over there!"

"The engineering is impressive. The power Sol machinery requires just to 'limp by' is astounding, and would be suicidal in Caelum. It may be of interest to hold a race contest there, one day."

"You'd be hearing some sick sonic booms if this shit got warped to your wimpy dimension. Those cars are juiced-up beasts, Mikri. That's not an exhaust pipe you'd want up your bumhole."

The android beeped with concern. "That implies that there are other exhaust pipes that you would desire within your waste orifice."

"Well…no, wait, I mean it. Isn't it pretty cool to hear the power? You're going to when they come around the track, and that's tangible. You'll feel the crowd's excitement. You'll be a part of organics going 'Woohoo!' just because. And…"

"I will be the NASCAR Vascar. Yes. I accept my…destiny."

I was beaming from ear-to-ear, as I shot Sofia a gloating look out of the corner of my eye. The race was about to start, and Mikri watched both the crowd and automobiles with intrigue; there truly was a lot he could learn about human behavior from this venue. The excitement that rose like a wave, when the cars sailed past us, was palpable. Mundane speeds in Caelum wowed humans and made us feel something visceral. The android watched the drivers jockey for position and take tight turns with lightning-quick reflexes.

There was a lot of science to it, if Sofia and Mikri both looked deeper. Aerodynamics powered drifting, and confrontational drivers brushed their car frames together with a daringness that courted danger. A single misjudgment could spell disaster, and that unpredictability—watching who had the stones to move up the pack—was exhilarating. The roar as they came back around couldn't be conveyed through a screen. I could feel the engines' vibrations in my chest, just like a rocket. The Vascar must be able to sense it too, because the power had left him with an awestruck smile.

That's just what humans do! This hell dimension won't stop us from pushing the limits of what's possible: further, faster, riskier. That's why we're pushing the warp technology, and the spirit I want to spearhead—just like when we went through the Gap.

My phone buzzed with yet another unwanted call, and I clenched my fist with frustration. "God! She won't take a hint!"

"Who's calling you?" Sofia asked.

"My mother. We haven't had a live conversation in years, and I'm happy to leave it that way. This is why I never came back to Earth. She'd have nonstop access to badger me!"

The scientist's eyes glimmered with sympathy. "You always wanted your family to acknowledge your accomplishments, didn't you? Maybe they finally have to: you're Preston Carter. I think it'd feel good for you to hear that even they came around. You should answer—at least tell her you can't talk, and then she'd stop calling."

"Hmph. Maybe you're right." I swiped to accept the call, pressing it to my ear and straining to hear over the noise. "Hello?"

"Preston! I know you're back on Earth. You're all over the TV, and you can't pick up one call?" my mother demanded.

"Can't and don't want to are two different things. I have to go."

"Wait! Your father is sick, Preston." Those words stopped me in my track, and I blinked in numb silence. "The doctors say he has a few months left to live, at most. This will be your last chance to say goodbye. You need to come visit."

"I…I don't need to visit. I said my goodbye to Pops twenty years ago, and it was final. I'm not the son either of you wanted, and this guilt trip now is—"

"Give it a rest, Preston! Now's the time you play the world's smallest violin, the classic 'Woe is me?' If you don't get your ass down here, you'll regret it for the rest of your life. Your own flesh and blood is on death's door, and you're galloping around the globe with a machine?"

"I like that machine a fuck ton more than I ever liked you!"

"I don't know that machine, but I still like it more than you too. So you don't have to come and visit me when it's my turn, but you will do this for your father—because he never gave up on you getting past your bullheaded, selfish ways! I'm sending you the address to the home he's staying in, and you're damn well going to show up."

I slowly dropped the phone down to my lap, as my mother hung up on me. Tears welled in my eyes before I could get a handle on it, and I pressed a fist to my wobbly lips in an attempt to hold it in. This was why I never wanted to talk to my parents, or to live under her thumb again. There was still the part of me that could see the good times though, throwing football with Dad in the park on a Sunday afternoon. The quiet compliments of "Nice arm, son", and that was fawning coming from him.

Maybe if I hadn't gotten hurt, they'd be proud of me and…

"Preston? What is causing you distress? I do not think it is the chili dog catching up to your gastrointestinal system yet," Mikri commented, wrapping his arms around me.

I sucked in a sharp breath. "Old wounds. Compared to Larimak, it really shouldn't bother me, right? I've had my shit kicked in a lot worse."

"You are deflecting. You can talk to me; I am aware that this can ease the burden on your processor. I would never condemn your vulnerability, and while I am fallible, I will always strive to support you with optimal efficiency."

"I know, Mikri. My…father is dying. My mom was trying to make me come visit, but don't worry: I'm not going to."

"Preston, I think even if it's hard, you're better off having closure and maybe making amends with your old man," Sofia said in a soft voice. "You don't want to carry around this grudge forever. Once they're gone, they can't take anything back and neither can you."

"Yeah, that's all dandy, but you don't know what they're like."

"You're right. They're still your parents though. We don't choose our family, but we do choose the power they get to hold over us. Look, if you can truly tell me that there's not a part of you that still loves them and wants to reconcile, I'll drop it. Is that the case?"

I stared out at the racetrack for a long moment, before shaking my head. "No."

"Okay. Then you should go and visit. And the good news is, you have friends who are right here by your side. You don't have to do this alone."

"What?! No, I wouldn't make you interact with them! I want Mikri to…enjoy his fucking trip. Let's just focus on that. We both got to pick what we wanted to see, and now it's his turn to choose."

"I can choose anything?" Mikri tapped a claw against his chest, and I gave him a shaky nod. "Then I choose to go with you to visit your father. This is important for your welfare. I know from what Sofia said yesterday that grief is a difficult emotion to handle, so I wish to be there with you."

"Goddammit! I don't know if I can do this, guys, so just…"

"If they become critical of you, I will not be reserved with my opinions that you are brave and have contributed to noble goals. Perhaps a Vascar's logic will be adequate persuasion as to the value of your pursuits. It is illogical not to be proud of you, simply because their wish was not yours. You deserve free will too. I discern that you want them to hear these words, so let me impart this to your…previous product line."

"If you really insist. This is going to be the last thing we do before we head back to Caelum, though. I don't want to stick around; I want to be gone after this nightmare, alright?"

Sofia wrapped an affectionate arm around me. "If that's how you want to handle it, then that's what we'll do. We're with you all the way, Messton."

"Just like the chili stains on his shirt," Mikri agreed. "And you say I am unclean."

I scoffed. "You're dustier than a crypt!"

"Good. That sounds emo. If you can recall that song I wrote for you after the Space Gate battle, I will find a way to write this lyric into the second verse."

"Will you now? Even I'm waiting to hear that," Sofia snorted.

"Calculating. Output formulated."

I waved an impatient hand. "Go on. The whole race will be done before you spit it out."

"I'm dustier than a crypt, but at least I don't smell like shit,

Humans might make cars go vroom, but can't be cleaned even with a broom."

"Hey! This song is a lot less nice than I remember it being. Plus you ruined the rhythm, hurrying through extra syllables at the end."

Mikri made his eyes glow red, turning his voice to a throaty growl. "Vroom."

Having been cheered up enough to focus on the race, I joined the NASCAR Vascar in watching the cars complete their laps around the track. I was dreading the end of this trip, with the visit to my father hanging over me. However, I wasn't going to let it ruin the rest of my fun excursions with Mikri, because the robobo was an absolute blast to be around. Whatever happened with my family, I was lucky to have two amazing friends by my side.

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