Eventually, alcohol is brought to them, but Myrha supposes that Bartin is a coward because he makes his wife do it. She’s a small lady with a big nose and even bigger hair. It’s like she’s forgotten to brush it, because it’s tangled and sort of everywhere and very curly and very grey. Her eyes are glassy, pupils blown wide, and she doesn’t so much as blink when Myrha thanks her and takes the tray from her.

Myrha wonders what sort of narcotics they have on Lieval, and if she can try some.

“Do you make them yourself?” Myrha asks Werna.

A little bit of drool forms at the edge of Werna’s cracked lips.

Right.

“Whatever you’re on, it seems very potent,” Myrha remarks, not without a bit of respect.

Werna doesn’t respond beyond some sightless gazing, so Myrha sort of pushes her out the door and then locks it behind her.

“You never know what people will do when they’re strung up on drugs,” Myrha says from experience.

The android studies her with a suspicious gaze, like she thinks Myrha might have already sampled the local narcotics.

“If I lay into the drugs, I’ll let you know beforehand,” Myrha reassures her, and passes her a bottle.

Immediately, the android says, “I don’t drink.”

Great. She’s saddled herself with an uptight roommate.

“It probably tastes like shit anyway,” Myrha says, “probably will be as bad as the stuff on the shuttle.”

“What did that taste like?”

“Alien cum.”

The android doesn’t seem too disturbed by the thought, “That is a broad statement. There are many different alien species in the known galaxy.”

“Are you saying I have no respect for diversity?” Myrha jokes, “I’ve slept with enough aliens to know, okay?”

“It is interesting that you choose to sort tastes into two categories: human and alien. Is it difficult for a human to further differentiate tastes beyond a basic level?”

Honestly, she hadn’t given it much thought.

“Listen, it’s not like I’m wine-tasting or anything, yeah? I’m not writing down little notes about the taste of ejaculate from different species.”

“I meant no offense,” the android says, “I was merely curious because I cannot taste.”

“Oh.”

That kind of sucks.

“When I said I do not drink…I meant I do not drink at all,” the android clarifies further.

“You don’t have to eat or drink?”

“No. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. My systems are designed to run on a different form of energy: electricity, instead of food.”

“How long can you go without charging?”

“That depends on my work output and the amount of time I spend charging or in hibernation.”

“That sounds like a complex equation.”

“Based on our current situation, I will last eleven days.”

“Do you think a shuttle will come for us by then?”

“I am unable to predict that.”

Myrha huffs, “Then isn’t there some other shuttle that comes to Lieval?”

“No, our starshuttle is the only one that regularly visits this planet. We pick-up and drop-off passengers every two weeks.”

Myrha sighs and drinks straight from the bottle.