Years later, when children asked him about the strange little robot that watched over their water, Kavi would smile.
The journey was hell. The E270, even limping, was brilliant. It pinged unstable ceilings, detected toxic gas pockets, and once, emitted a high-frequency screech that scared off a nest of giant tunnel rats. In return, Kavi carried the drone across broken gaps where its damaged leg couldn’t navigate. He talked to it. Told it about his father. About the taste of rain before the Collapse. The drone responded with chirps and warbles, its lens tilting like a curious bird. gdp e270
Kavi’s throat tightened. An aquifer meant clean water. Clean water meant a farming license, a legal identity, a life beyond scavenging. Years later, when children asked him about the