They walk quietly for a while over the mountain top. Pen looks out of the window as they traverse the snow-laden, rocky path. Her eyes fixate on the world around herself, which is being coated by a thick dusting of fresh, falling, white powder. She had seen snow before, but that was a long time ago and never like this. Never this much.

 

“Hey, where does this window come from?” she asks, tapping against the sheet of blank metal before herself.

 

“It’s just a projection, there’s a camera on the front and it feeds back the optic-,“ The voice stops, realizing that he needs to simplify. “I can make it come and go away when I want,” he says and for emphasis, has it vanish, leaving only the blank surface before her eyes now.

 

“Ah! Put it back!” protests Pen.

 

“See that little yellow thing to your left? Press that,” says the voice. Pen looks over her shoulder at the small yellow button next to herself. Curious, she presses her finger against it. Her eyes shoot open, as the window pops back up a second later. She presses it again and watches it vanish and then again to bring it back, her mouth agape. As if for emphasis, she presses the button as fast as she can several times in a row. The window pops in and out of life a dozen times over and over, filling the space with a flashing, strobing light as it flickers.

 

“Slow down there,” says Tango.

Pen presses the button again, but nothing happens now. “Ah… it’s broken,” she says disappointed, leaning back again.

 

“No, I just turned it off. Flashing lights like that are bad for your eyes,” explains the man.

 

“Are they?” she asks curiously.

 

“Sure are,” explains the man.

 

“Hmm…” she looks out of the screen to the world beyond it. She isn’t really sure if that sounds right or not. “I want to go outside,” she proclaims suddenly. Tango stops.

 

“You sure? It’s cold outside, look,” explains the man.

 

A window pops up onto the screen, Pen looks at it, squinting in a futile effort to examine it.

 

 

Looking at the jumble of shapes before herself, not knowing what they mean, she waves it off, turning her head to the side. “It’s fine! I’m opening the hatch,” she proclaims.

 

“You really shouldn’t,” he says.

 

“Shut up! I’m in charge, remember?”

 

“Okay, don’t say I didn’t warn you,” replies Tango, as the suit lowers itself down to the ground.

 

Pen opts to ignore his comment and grabs hold of the hatch, twisting it open and clambering out, before dropping down into the crisp snowfall beneath herself.

 

“Ah!” She cries in a squeal, as her hurt feet come down onto the frigid ground. She repeats her yelps as the frost begins to bite into her bare, wounded skin immediately. Pen sinks down into the deep snow the moment she lands and then grazes the ice below, the white drift rising up to her knees. “It’s cold!” She jumps back up shouting, clambering up the body of the bot and holding onto the hatch, as the sub-zero winds begin to encircle her, the arctic breeze nipping at her skin, completely ignoring the tattered rags that she’s wearing. She climbs back inside, feeling a fresh sting on her body that had just begun to heal. Sliding inside, tracking in fresh slush with her bare feet, she grabs the hatch and slams it back tightly shut, shivering already from only the few seconds spent outside and feeling oddly light-headed.

 

Turning around, she slides down against the seat, clutching herself tightly and drops her feet down to the space below, just above the glowing crystal.

 

“Told you it was cold,” says Tango matter of factly, getting back up to continue walking.

 

“Sh-shu-shut up!” chatters Pen out through her quivering teeth.

 

“Don’t you have any better clothes?” asks the man, as he looks at the girl wearing what in his eyes amounted to an old, tattered sack.

Pen doesn’t answer and just continues warming herself on the radiant crystal below. Melting, red-tinged snow drips down from her feet and hisses as it seeps down onto some hot metal plate beneath her, that is just out of sight.

 

“S-so, you never answered me before?” chatters Pen. “Are you going to work with me or not?”

 

“What happens after I bring you to the city?” asks Tango.

 

“Huh?” she responds.

 

“Well you want to go to the city, yeah?”

 

“Yeah, obviously,” says Pen crossing her arms again, not sure what his point was.

 

Tango shrugs, she can see his arms raise in the little window. “Well that’s good and all, but I need to go somewhere else. So once we get to ‘the city’, wherever it is, I’ll have to leave again to get where I’m going. But I won’t make it if you don’t come with me.”

 

Pen leans back, understanding the logistical problem now. But she doesn’t quite have an answer to the dilemma. She thinks, not quite sure how to wrap her head around it. She doesn't want to appear like she doesn’t know what she is doing. She needs to keep the appearance up that she is in charge. What had they said in times like this?

 

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” proclaims Pen, closing her eyes, crossing her arms and putting her dirty, wet feet back up to the console, as she leans back again. “Just keep going north.”

 

“Could you stop making everything dirty inside of me?” asks Tango, somewhat agitated.

 

“Shut up!” She kicks the panel in front of herself, the metal thud rings out around them.

 

Tango sighs. “You know, I’m a very patient guy, but you’re overdoing it a little.”

 

“I’m in charge here, I can do whatever I want,” spouts Pen, not budging.

 

“Okay, yeah, no,” says Tango, as they stop walking now. “I’m in every sense of the phrase, too old for this.”

 

Pen opens her eyes. “What are you doing?”

 

Something clicks behind her and she turns her head, as the hatch swings open on its own, letting in an icy draft immediately. “Ah! It’s cold! Close the door!” shouts Pen at the bauble above her head.

 

“No,” says Tango somewhat agitated. “Here’s the deal, I’ll bring you to ‘the city’ and you do what you can to keep me fixed up. The rest we can figure out once we get there.”

 

Pen frowns, very unhappy about this. But the cold is hard to argue against. “F-fine!” shivers out Pen, clutching herself as the sub-zero winds crawl over her skin, consuming the little warmth of the crystal below herself.

 

The crystal…

 

She thinks, reaching down towards it. As long as she has it, she has the upper hand.

 

“Ah-ah!” says Tango. The metal plate slides over the cylindrical tube that the crystal resides in, sealing its warmth and glow away from her fingers.

 

“H-hey!” shouts Pen at the bauble, not seeing her own breath anymore already, as her rail-thin body becomes icy.

 

“I wasn’t done,” says Tango. “- this has to stop,” he adds on. “I like to think that I have a lot of patience, but this is too much. If we’re doing this, we’re working together. I’m not working for you, especially not with that attitude.”

 

Together? Pen thinks, holding herself tightly to little avail to keep her warmth inside of her body. A flock of snow flies in and lands on the bare nape of her neck. But that would mean relinquishing the upper hand. She can’t do that. She won’t do that. She won’t let someone own her again. “T-t-then you’ll need t- to find someone else to take c-care of y-you!” she says, barely able to form words anymore.

 

“Okay,” says Tango dryly. “I can do that.”

 

She hadn’t expected that. “N-no y-you c-can’t! I’ll l-leave and you’ll d-die!”

 

“Yes I can,” he responds and kneels down to the ground, lowering himself again for her to get out. “If you aren’t willing to accept my conditions, then you can get out here and walk on your own,” he says, blankly.

 

Pen looks out at the frigid wasteland all around themselves. A pang of fear hits her heart as the tears in her eyes begin to well, only to be bitten by the icy aura encapsulating her numbed body. “B-but I’ll d-d-die!” she stutters out through her numb lips.

 

“Oh? Huh… Well, you just need to find somebody else to carry you. I’m sure you’ll be fine,” says Tango, twisting her own prior words against her. “It might be hard out here though, but I’m sure you’ll manage. Or you can take the deal,” he says adding on “-I’d recommend it personally-” Pen glares at the bauble above herself. It’s becoming covered in a layer of frost itself. He wouldn’t dare. Would he?

 

“- After all, you can’t put a price on life,” says the giant bot and she winces, wanting to cry. He has her trapped. But her body is dried out and empty, unwilling to give up any of the little water it has left in its starving, freezing core to form more tears. She’s stuck. Stuck like in the cage. There’s no way out, no way to get back on top. She’s trapped.

 

Would he really let her freeze to death? She’s tempted to call his bluff, but words can hardly form in her violently shivering mouth anymore. But he is a bot, after all. Bots kill people all the time. Why would this be any different? Pen realizes that she had messed up. She lost her advantage and now she’s trapped. She has no choice but to pretend to make a choice.

 

“Well?” asked Tango. “I’m a busy man, so hurry up,” he says.

 

It’s submission or death, just like before. Nothing has changed. Nothing will ever change. No matter how far she runs, the world seems to insist that she will always be nothing but a thing. Something owned. Something commanded. “F-f-f-“ she stutters, not being able to form a coherent word anymore. She glares at the bauble. This isn’t over. She’s going to get him back for this, she’s going to find a way out of this mess too.

 

“Well?” asks Tango.

 

“F-f-ine!” she blurts out, lurching forward with her eyes closed. Her entire body stings, she can’t move her legs or arms anymore.

 

The bot rises up to his feet. The hatch swings shut on its own and the little metal plate below herself slides out and away, letting a rush of heat from the crystal rise up and well around the cabin. Pen’s body begins to tingle all over, as the warmth touches her bare skin. It hurts. Her entire body hurts.

 

She still wants to cry, to yell at the bauble. But she’s so beaten down by life that she just sat there instead, hunched over forward, not making eye-contact anymore with the glass thing above her head. They keep on walking through the night-falling snow, a heavy silence in the air between them.

 

She won't be beaten like this. Definitely, in protest, she hits the yellow button behind her shoulder again to switch the window away.

 

Tango sighs.