"They're machines," Will said softly, giving her a half nod of gratitude as he stepped through the door. Once through the door, he began to look around and study the interior of the building. His tone became a bit distracted as he finished his thought aloud.

"They follow their programing. No empathy, no imagination," as he spoke, he made a full three sixty turn, which left him facing her and his eyes returned to her face. "There is something enviable about that."

Apologies, Sam. Someone is embracing his cryptic side.

"Do we check in with the desk?" He's still thinking in terms of Earth morals, and tentatively wondering how recompense for living space will work.