System Collapse (The Murderbot Diaries, #7)

by Martha Wells

So the next time I get optimistic about something, I want one of you to punch me in the face.

Or punch ART in the face. I sent back, I wish I could punch you in the face.

So I’m here now and it’s fine, everyone shut up about it, okay.

It should be reassuring that humans don’t get what other humans are thinking, either, but it just highlights how fucked up human neural tissue can be.

You’re stalling, ART-drone said. I am not. I can stand here and be useless without any ulterior motives, thanks.

I assumed there was some because humans have a bad habit of assuming that if they know a thing, all the other humans in the vicinity know it, too. Either that or they believe none of the other humans know anything that they don’t know. It’s either one or the other and both are potentially catastrophic and really fucking annoying.

So with everything that was going on right now, it was particularly stupid that what I felt was, you know, whatever it was. Not jealousy. Sort of like jealousy.

Murderbot, why are you like this?)

The whole thing made me understand the human expression “it made me want to vomit.” Why would you ever want to do something that was so objectively disgusting and looked so painful. Oh, this was why, I get it now.)

“That was excellent, SecUnit.” Ratthi said, “If they don’t like it, fuck them.”