Home: Habitat, Range, Niche, Territory (The Murderbot Diaries, #4.5)

by Martha Wells

It’s hard to make a proper argument when you’re both on the same side.

A product of corporate surveillance capitalism and authoritarian enforcement

She knows SecUnit is not so much taunting her with its abilities as refusing to pretend to be anything other than it is. And that’s for the best, because being honest about that is the only way forward.

Along with the horror of what had just happened, there had been the dawning realization that they had fallen into thinking of their SecUnit as a faceless machine, a convenience, an interface with their security system. But it had taken a sentient being who understood fear and pain to talk its way through Volescu’s blind terror.

SecUnit is looking down at her. “You can hug me if you need to.” “No. No, that’s all right. I know you don’t care for it.” She wipes her face. There are tears in her eyes, because she’s an idiot. “It’s not terrible.” She can hear the irony under its even tone. “Nevertheless.” She can’t do this. She can’t lean on a being that doesn’t want to be leaned on. Of all the things SecUnit needs, the only ones she can give it are room and time in a relatively safe space to make decisions for itself. Becoming a prop for her failing emotional stability won’t do either one of them any good.