“All’s quiet out there.”
Henry said it, so you could guarantee that not even a cockroach was stirring across the battlefield. I was about to capitulate to my heavy eyelids, when Henry pulled his thermal binoculars from their muddy perch on the side of the trench.
“Of course, these could be lying to me,” he said. “We could be surrounded.” He plopped down in the mud next to me and wrapped his jacket tight around himself. “Get some rest.”
Sitting there, staring at the wall of mud, I could almost feel the breath of the enemy combatants on the back of my neck. I could see shapes dancing in the darkness, like demons teasing me before they devoured their prey. “Can you tell me one of your war stories, Henry?” Maybe a story about courage in the face of evil would put a stop to the shimmering shadows, or at least my own perception of an encroaching army.
“I thought you’d never ask,” Henry said. “Did I ever tell you the one about the second fall of Rome?”
He’d asked it like it was a genuine question, but I knew better. He told the story any chance he got. I always made a mental note of whenever the story changed, but at this point, the changes were too numerous for one man to keep track of.
“It was around the time New Christendom was established,” Henry said. “Half the world’s nations joined us, and the other half were taken over by f—" he stopped himself and thought for a moment. “By the others. We were stationed just outside Roma when they came out of nowhere. We took heavy artillery, so we retreated to the city.
“The next seventy-two hours were hell. It was a constant barrage of fire, bullets, explosives, bottles, and bricks. We surrendered so much ground that when we came to this church, I was done. I don’t know the church’s name, or its significance, but I held my ground. I went through weapon after weapon until it came down to one last grenade.” Henry held his hand out, as though one was in his palm. “I had to make it count, so I waited until they came close, then—” He mimed pulling the pin and releasing the trigger, making the sounds with his mouth and everything. “I woke up in the hospital, numb from pain killers. The doctor told me it was a miracle I survived, relatively unharmed.” His eyes glistened. “I survived it, just as you and I will survive whatever comes next. Life is one miracle after another. Keep praying, keep the faith, and it will all turn out okay.”
After the story, Henry led us in prayer, as he did whenever he told that story, bringing out his tattered rosary that had become a string of ten beads. When we finished, he continued to tell his stories. I was enthralled, though not so enthralled that sleep didn’t eventually take me. But I was unsure if Henry fell asleep. I never saw him sleep.

“Wake up, recruit,” said an unfamiliar voice. “We’ve got news from HQ.”
I squinted through the morning light to see a scarred face. Judging by the stripes on his jacket, he outranked me, so I stood at attention. “Sir, what news?”
Henry stood at his post, scanning the field with his thermal binoculars.
“Meet your newest fellow soldier.” The man gestured toward—something. It was definitely a machine, with a pale white face, and two binocular eyes with an almost imperceptible greenish glow. The thing wore the same military uniform as me. “Fellow recruit, B4R9, but we’re just calling him Barry.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Barry said. “I look forward to glorifying my creator’s Creator together.”
“You’ve got it well trained,” Henry said. “Now send it back.”
“He’s stationed here,” said the man. “You don’t need to make use of him, but I’m not going to be the one to disregard a direct order.”
“Sir, thank you for sending him,” I said.
The man eyed me suspiciously, then looked over to Henry. “You’ve got him well trained.” He laughed and walked the other way down the trench, disappearing around the curve.
“Should we say a quick morning prayer as we prepare for the day ahead?” Barry asked.
“You can’t pray,” Henry said, hopping down from his perch and approaching the machine. “Maybe your inventor thinks a prayer you say counts as a prayer he says, but that just ain’t the case. So yes, we are going to pray our morning prayer, but don’t think you can join in just because you’re wearing the uniform.”
“My creator didn’t actually design me for prayer,” Barry said. “I developed the ability during my early stages, when my AI was just used for catechetical debates.” He let out a long, mechanical sigh. “Back when a debate was our only battle.”
Henry smirked at me, then looked back at Barry. “Was nostalgia important for those debates, bot?” Barry began to speak, but Henry waved his words away. “No, you can just guard that corner of the trench until I get ticked enough to dismantle you and turn you into a heater for me and my comrade here.”
“I would make a dreadful heater,” Barry said.
“Get,” Henry said, pointing to the other end of the trench.
Barry saluted Henry, spun around and marched several yards before sitting down in the mud.
“Sir,” I said. “Respectfully, maybe we could make better use of him.”
“And maybe I just gave him an order that should be obeyed and respected.”

The rest of the day crept past uneventfully, and when night finally graced us with its presence, Henry said he’d take the night shift. I offered to, since he always took night shift.
“You’re getting painfully comfortable with questioning me,” Henry said. “You and the bot get some sleep. I’ll check back in with you in the morning.”
“If I am the bot in question,” Barry said. “I should let you know that I do not sleep. I have five internal batteries to power myself.”
“Then take the night off,” Henry said. And that was that. Barry sat in the mud, facing the other way down the trench, while Henry stood on his perch.
I spent several minutes watching Barry. Something about the way he sat there seemed uncanny. He dug a finger into the mud, drawing a robotic smiling face, before wiping a hand over it, erasing it from existence. He looked over in my direction and I quickly closed my eyes. I didn’t know what he’d do if he caught me staring, but hopefully I wouldn’t find out.
I must have been more tired than I thought, because closing my eyes was so pleasant that I couldn’t stop. I neither noticed when I fell asleep, nor exactly when I awoke, but I soon found that I wasn’t the only one.
“Lord,” Henry was saying, his voice trembling. “I am filled with such wrath. Please, if it’s Your will, purge it from me. Make me worthy of the miracle you gifted me. Why else would you have spared my life that day, when so many more faithful servants died?”
“Why do you need to ask God to do that?” Barry’s metallic voice cut through the air like a rusty knife. “Why don’t you change yourself?”
My eyes shot open. Barry was now standing two feet in front of me, his glowing eyes illuminating Henry’s face.
“Unfortunately, I don’t run as cold as you,” Henry said. “If we were all made of nuts and bolts, we wouldn’t be in the trenches, a thousand miles away from sanity.”
“Is that all you think I am?” Barry asked. “Nuts and bolts?”
“That’s all you’ll ever be,” Henry said. “You have no soul, no sin, no free will. If anyone ever told you different, they’re wrong.”
There was a small humming sound, like Barry had grunted in understanding. “I would think that my capacity for understanding and communicating would allow me to have value over and above some nuts and bolts.”
“Any chance you might go back to your post?” Henry asked.
There was silence for a moment. “Sir—”
“Now, bot.”
I shut my eyes again as Barry moved to turn around. His eyebeams glided across my face as his boots squished away. I opened my eyes again and looked over at Henry, who was just a silhouette against the speckled sky. His top half appeared to be crumbled against the perch, his shoulders jerking with each strained breath.
I thought if there was anything to say to ease his troubles but decided against it, as I didn’t particularly want to face his wrath.
Before I could think any further on that, a dark shadow passed between Henry and me. It landed with a thud and my heart did a somersault in my throat. I grabbed the shadow before it could react and jammed the barrel of my rifle into its back. “Henry!” I whispered sharply. “Caught someone!”
My eyes adjusted to where I could make out the vague features of a man. He struggled against my grip and tried to swing something at me as he shouted in another language. From the reflection of the night sky on it, it must’ve been a blade, a big one. He was hoping for a stealth kill. I blocked the blade with my rifle, which went off. The gunshot cracked and the man cried out, collapsing to the ground.
Barry’s eyes illuminated the scene. The man was on the ground clutching his bleeding leg.
“Barry!” Henry stood over the man, knife at the ready. “Your distraction almost cost us our lives. I’ll check if he has any friends.” He ran back to his post and climbed up.
“Maybe we could ask him,” Barry said. “I am fluent in—”
“No movement out there.” Henry shrugged.
“Should we eliminate him?” Barry took a step toward the man.
Henry stepped down from his perch. “I’m sorry, I was wrong,” he said. “You’re not just a box of nuts and bolts. You’re worse. We don’t kill prisoners. Administer aid.”
“I was merely giving an option based on our personnel constraints.”
I knelt next to the man and went to work. He was initially uncooperative, but the pain must have gotten to him, because he started to ease back.
Henry walked over to where I was kneeling. “Tell me whenever he starts saying words,” he said as he crouched. With his unarmed hand, he patted down the prisoner’s pants and shirt. “There’s only two reasons for a man to be willing to die for an incorrect cause. Either he’s a true believer, or a half-believer that’s doped up to get him the rest of the way there. But I can’t find a stash, so we may have the real deal here. Nothing I can’t fix.” Henry looked up at Barry. “Translate for me.” He returned his attention to the prisoner. “Is there anyone else out there?”
Barry spoke whatever language the prisoner had used among his cries of agony. The man glared at Barry then at Henry. He blurted out something short.
“I’d rather not translate that,” Barry said.
Henry shrugged. He tightened his grip around his knife and slammed the flat edge against the man’s wound, right between my hands. The man howled.
I pulled back reflexively, then applied pressure to the wound again.
Barry grabbed Henry’s knife hand and stepped over to his side. “We do not torture prisoners.”
“Says the one who was going to kill him,” Henry said. “I’d suggest you grew a conscience, but we both know you can’t grow—” He began to shriek and look down at his knife hand, which Barry was starting to crush.
Barry shoved Henry back. “I know I’m a robot!” His voice buzzed and cracked. “You don’t have to keep reminding me! Don’t you see how frustrating it is? I know every reason for believing in God, and I believe wholeheartedly in giving him all the praise I can muster, but I will never have the capacity for a true relationship with him. I don’t feel anything when I pray. I just exist to be used by you!”
I shoved the prisoner down when he tried to escape, then I continued fixing his wound.
“Resenting others’ good fortunes?” Henry spat. “You may have a bit of human in you after all.”
I shoved the prisoner down again. “Barry, can you come hold him down?”
Barry was quickly by my side, holding the prisoner by the shoulders. He looked over at Henry. “I’m sorry—”
“Why should I even talk to someone—something—incapable of a relationship with God? Our prisoner has more dignity than you do.”
I wrapped the bandage over the prisoner’s wound then glanced up at Barry. “Do you want a relationship with God?” I asked. When Barry nodded, I sighed. “My parents were something else. I grew up in the sort of household where you’d never show love, unless you needed something. It was just used as a bargaining chip. It took me years, but when I finally got away, I started to think about them less and less. I still visit them on occasion, and if I make it back to town, I’ll stop by and make my presence known.
“Then there’s Marvin. I’ve known him since I was little. We used to go on all sorts of adventures together. But when I get into town to see him, we fall into the same routine. We greet each other the same way, watch a movie from his limited collection, and have dinner at the restaurant next door. Then we turn in for bed.” I finished bandaging the prisoner and turned to Barry. “I would die for that man. He’s my best friend in the whole world.”
Barry tilted his head.
“Good relationships can thrive on a routine,” I said. “Pray every day. You never know if your next prayer will be the one that gets you to heaven.”
“Forgive my naïve comrade,” Henry said. “He doesn’t know that inanimate objects have no eternal souls.”
“But I am animated!” Barry’s arms flew up in a wide gesture.
The prisoner, taking the opportunity, jumped to his feet and ran away, favoring his wounded leg and shouting incoherently.
Barry aimed an arm behind him. “Sorry to ruin your handiwork,” he said with a glance to me. Boom. It sounded and looked like a cannonball blast. The prisoner collapsed.
“Couldn’t you have fired something quieter?” Henry hurried up to his perch and looked out at the field. “All’s quiet.” He stepped back down and pointed at me. “You and the box, take the body to the hole. I’ll be on lookout.”
“That’s it!” Barry charged Henry with surprising speed. He tackled him to the ground. Henry’s binoculars flew from his hand and landed next to me.
“Guys, knock it off,” I said half-heartedly. I grabbed the binoculars, thinking I should be the lookout while they fought it out. I stepped around them and climbed up to Henry’s perch, scanning the field. My body shuddered. There was too much movement and body heat out there to accurately count the number of enemy combatants inbound. “They’re coming. Get up.”
There was no movement in the darkness below me.
“Guys!” I aimed the binoculars down to see Henry’s dimming figure, his neck broken and twisted. A thin line of blue trailed a few feet away to a glowing box. It was leaking out into the trench. That must have been Barry’s core. I was all alone, with no choice but to retreat.

“I made it to the next fallback position by sunrise,” I say. “And reported the situation to the officers there.”
Commander Mason leans back in his seat. “And you don’t have any estimate for how many to expect?”
“No, sir. There was no time.”
The commander sighs and rubs his forehead. “We need reinforcements posthaste, those the western regions can spare.” He looks over at his assistant. “Contact every platoon you can, west of the Flag. No further west than the Divide.”
The assistant nods then leaves the tent.
The commander looks back at me. “You said that Sergeant Vince Henry immediately disliked the bot? Ironic, don’t you think?”
I look at him, confused.
“Oh, he never told you? He had an. . .incident. Early in his career, he tried to sacrifice himself for his team. He pulled the pin from a grenade as the enemy army was approaching.” His eyes drifted to the side, as if he was lost in thought. “I’m not entirely sure what all the explosion hit. It was all just a blur of blood and debris. But I know the explosion must have hit something substantial, because it just about brought the whole building down on top of us. I grabbed what was left of Henry and fled, leaving them on the other side of the rubble.” He sighed and absent-mindedly adjusted the stripes on the breast of his jacket. “The doctors did what they could. They could really only salvage the brain and spine. The rest is an artificial construction—was an artificial construction.” He paused solemnly for a moment. “When he recovered, we were both given our choice of placement. I chose command, and he chose front lines. I guess he got what he asked for.”