She’s not exactly sure what to do with a roommate. The cot sits in one corner, a hovering cot that expands at the touch of a button. Only that button broke halfway through the expanding process, so Myrha had to wrestle it open using brute strength. So, it’s a little bent, and smells a bit burnt because the motors hadn’t liked her trying to force them open, but at least it’s hovering. It does, however, have an awful comforter that smells of rancid flowers. Why is Bartin obsessed with flowers?

When the android arrived Myrha had proudly presented the cot, as if it was an animal she had caught and skinned and cooked herself. Not that she would ever do such a thing. Only crazy poets like Dellylee vacated inhabited star-space and lived out in the wilds catching and eating alien animal prey. Like, totally gross.

The android stares at the cot for a few seconds, as if trying to wrap the wires in her mind around its existence. She gives up computing the presence of the cot, and then turns to Myrha oddly stiff and formal.

“I do not require a sleeping surface to hibernate,” she says.

Myrha puts her hands on her hips, goes ‘huh’, and doesn’t say anything because she doesn’t understand a word coming out of the android’s mouth.

“I will stand in the lobby corner,” the android continues.

“But I opened the cot for you,” Myrha says, a bit dumbly.

The android gives her a ‘and how is that relevant, you stupid human’ look. Myrha coughs awkwardly and changes the subject.

“What do I call you?” Myrha asks.

“Lynne.”

Right. Labeling android models with numbers had gone out of fad; the new thing was to name them.

“Are you ever bothered that there are hundreds, maybe thousands, of other ‘Lynne’ androids running around?” she asks.

“Are you ever bothered that there are other humans named ‘Myrha’ running around?” the android immediately fires back.

“Actually, sometimes I am. Myrha was a popular name and it was not fun being one of five girls named Myrha in the class.”

Now it’s the android’s turn to look like she doesn’t understand a word coming out of Myrha’s mouth.

“Anyway,” Myrha continues, a bit flustered, “humans aren’t made on an assembly line, you know? We’re not built exactly alike, not like androids.”

“All humans share over 99% of each other's DNA coding, making them all relatively identical. There are only a few subtle mutations that make one human different from another; for the most part, there is no biological difference. What makes each human unique is how they react and change according to their environment.”

“Hmm, yeah, that sounds like legit science,” Myrha says, and bounces on her bed, “But do androids change?”

“No machine, even if built to specifications, will be the same. Environmental factors will change its performance, especially androids as we are learning machines. We are built to learn and adapt. We will change.”

And then Myrha decides it’s a little stupid to argue with an android about what it’s like to be an android, so she shrugs in acceptance.

“It is odd that you believe androids should sleep in beds like humans, and yet you are so fast to point out the differences between us.”

“Well if it makes you feel better, I didn’t intend to start a philosophical discussion,” Myrha says, “but actually? This is cool. Usually I’m just talking about sex, drugs, and rock ‘n roll, you know?”

“I couldn’t imagine wanting to talk about ‘sex, drugs, and rock ‘n roll’.”

“Wow, rude. Tone down the judgement a little. I don’t judge you for not sleeping. What do you do, instead of sleep?”

“I am able to go into hibernation mode to conserve energy when I am not needed. This will be especially important now that there is no available charging station, as the hotel does not have one and the shuttle is without power.”

“Hibernation isn’t like sleeping, then?”

“In some ways, perhaps. However, I do not need to lie down to hibernate. I can stand virtually anywhere.”

“Oh. Then you really don’t need a cot?”

“No.”

“But…,” something still bothers Myrha, and she struggles to put words to it, “weren’t you upset when Bartin said you couldn’t have a room?”

“You are thinking I am human,” Lynne says, “but I have no need for privacy or a bed.”

“You’ve never had a bed or a room before?”

“No. There is no need.”

Well, Myrha sort of lives her life beyond what’s needed.

“Do you want a bed?” Myrha asks.

The android considers the cot and then walks over to it, inspecting it.

“I am not averse to trying it,” she decides.

“Awesome.”