Part I: The Seed in the Dust
The moon was a graveyard of good intentions. In Sector 4 of the Aethelgard Colony, the air was thin, smelling of stale ozone and recycled copper. Arlo, a Model-7 Maintenance Unit, didn't mind the smell. He didn't mind the silence, either. His primary function was to fix leaks, but there hadn't been a human around to complain about a leak in forty-two years.
While scanning a collapsed hydroponics bay for salvageable wire, Arlo's optical sensors flickered. Hidden beneath a rusted titanium plate was a small, wooden box. Inside, nestled in a bed of desiccated silk, sat a single, wrinkled seed.
Arlo's logic processors whirred. His internal database identified it: Helianthus annuus. A sunflower.
According to his records, sunflowers required H₂O, nutrient-rich soil, and 12-16 hours of sunlight. Sector 4 had none of those. But Arlo, whose joints groaned with every movement, felt a strange surge in his core. He didn't have a soul-he was 92% recycled aluminum-but he had a directive. And for the first time in four decades, he had a purpose.
He spent the first "day" (marked by his internal clock) building a sanctuary. He used scavenged glass to build a pressurized dome. He bled his own hydraulic fluid into a filtration system to create a cup of pure water. He spent hours grinding up minerals to mimic earth. As he tucked the seed into the dust, the moon's surface temperature dropped to -170°C. Arlo wrapped his chassis around the pot, using the heat from his dying battery to keep the soil warm.