She feels a bit self-conscious as the android watches her climb into bed with startling concentration. When the android turns back the comforter on her cot, she does it carefully and precisely, as if she’s afraid of making some mistake. She sits on the cot, lies down, and then lifts her legs onto the mattress.

“And you just lie here?” the android asks doubtfully.

“Yeah, until we fall asleep.”

“And a bed helps you fall asleep?”

“Being comfortable helps humans fall asleep. It helps us sleep better too, at least in general.”

“It takes some time for humans to fall asleep, doesn’t it?”

The doubt in her voice is increasing. Can androids feel insecure?

“Yep.”

“It takes seconds for me to activate hibernation mode. Being comfortable does not help or hinder the process or its efficiency.”

“That sounds…boring.”

“It is efficient, more so than the process of sleeping.”

“Yeah, probably, but there is something really awesome about curling up in a soft, warm bed and falling asleep after a long day.”

“Ah…sleep is a source of pleasure as well as restoration.”

“Sure.”

The android is a silent for a moment, and then says, “I will go into hibernation now.”

“Wait,” Myrha says, “I wanted to ask how you knew Dellylee.”

“Rather like you, I imagine,” she drawls, “I read.”

“But androids don’t usually read right? At least, not beyond what assists them with their designated function?”

“Androids are designed to be learning machines,” the android reiterates, as if that explains everything.

It doesn’t, really (because why learn poetry of all things? Even life forms that created poetry don’t always like it), but she lets it slide.

“So, what do you think about Dellylee’s poems?” she asks.

“From a technical standpoint, judging by standards on Peynar and Earth, they are masterpieces. However, I find the subject matter to be…laborious.”

She says the word with such poison that Myrha laughs.

“What, you don’t like how she moans on and on about how awful civilization is? How the Universe would be better without us?”

“She was single-minded and unrelenting in her hatred. She was a hermit, however, who never interacted with living creatures at all, so I found her opinion to be ill-informed. I think she left civilization before she had the chance to truly experience it.”

“Well, she had grown-up in a really rough part of Peynar, in an area always on the brink of civil war. Guess she just grew tired of it.”

“Yes, but,” and the android pauses, “I would find her poetry more credible had she explored first.”

“Why?”

“Because her poetry has truth to it. I am an attendant on a Starline and have seen much of the explored galaxy. I have witnessed such…atrocities of civilization as she describes it. That does not mean, however, that that is all civilization has to offer. I do not think she had seen enough to realize it.”

Myrha sits up in bed, as if that will help her make sense of the situation. Is this normal talk for an android? Ruminations on the validity of perspectives and poetry? Thoughts about the good and bad of civilization?

Lynne is a Starline attendant, she’s been exploring since she was created. She doesn’t really have a home; she’s a wanderer, a traveler, someone who’s been to all sorts of places Myrha has only heard about. Lynne’s seen the galaxy, while Myrha’s never left the city of her birth (until now, that is). She wonders if that affects the validity of her own poetry and finds herself annoyed that maybe the android would say that is true.

“But couldn’t you say that Dellylee’s community was simply a microcosm of the Universe? She wouldn’t have to travel to experience the different shades of civilization.”

“I was referring to her limited emotional experience. She willingly closed herself off to further discovery; she did not care to look for the good in civilization. She focused primarily on negative emotions and events.”

“Maybe she looked and didn’t find any.”

And she can’t believe she’s defending Delly-fucking-lee, but it’s fun to argue, especially since apparently, she has more in common with Dellylee than she ever thought possible. Ugh.

“She lived in one house for her entire childhood, and when she had the chance to leave, she hid on a faraway, abandoned planet for the rest of her long life. If she had visited other inhabited planets, perhaps her perspective would have broadened. Instead, she shut herself off from any such possibility, concluding that such good must not exist. But I have seen it, surely as I have seen the bad. In such respects, I found her poetry rather unenlightened.”

And if an android, a machine, could find and judge such ‘good’ and ‘bad’ in civilization, then perhaps Dellylee could have as well.

“Yeah, I don’t care for Dellylee myself,” Myrha says, “I prefer Turobeck.”

There is a brief silence, and then a quiet, “So do I.”

Myrha’s breath is lodged in her throat, but before she can squeal in delight over finding another Turobeck fan, the android’s small whirring and clicking noises desist, the room goes quiet, and she realizes Lynne fell asleep. Went into hibernation. Whatever.

She huffs and lies back in her sheets. Well, at least she found herself a roommate who has good taste in poetry.