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I.
"SecUnit?" Malak tugged on my sleeve.
I pulled away. "What do you want?" I used my soft reassuring-to-clients voice.
"I lost my stuffie."
"Which one?"
"My doggy."
Ah, that made sense. "It's under your bed," I told them. "You put it there when you thought Isa was going to steal it and then you forgot about it."
They smiled with their whole face. "I remember now! Thank you, SecUnit!"
"No problem," I said. "Just don't lose it again, okay?"
"I won't!" they promised, running away to get the stuffie. (They'd lose it again within the week. Somehow, I didn't mind.)
II.
"Eden!" Tapan sat down in the chair opposite, and Rami and Maro stood at my other side with a fourth human I didn't recognize.
"We didn't realize you were on the station," said Maro.
"If we'd known we'd have asked to meet up!" Tapan was literally bouncing.
"Is this the miraculous Eden I've heard so much about?" the other human asked.
"They saved my life three times," said Tapan.
"It was my job," I said.
"Still," said Maro. "You went above and beyond."
"I know you're not big on gatherings," said Rami, "but if you ever need anything, just ask."
III.
"Of course, Security Consultant Rin," Gurathin said sarcastically.
Ratthi glanced back and forth for a moment, clearly wondering if this was safe to ask about.
"Rin was one of my fake names," I said, so I wouldn't have to wait for Gurathin to explain. He'd obviously get it wrong. "Back when I was impersonating a human security consultant."
"Oh," said Ratthi. His voice sounded strange.
"If you're weird about that, I'll poke holes in fifty percent of your socks," I told him.
Gurathin made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a smothered laugh. I made a rude gesture at him.
IV.
"Why do you use my hard feed address?" I asked ART. We'd just finished an episode and were taking a moment for ART to have emotions.
«To identify you as an individual,» it said.
"Yeah, I know that," I said. "But when you're talking to me you don't need it for that. I'm right here."
«I am emotionally compromised right now,» it said petulantly.
I poked it. "Answer the question."
«I say it because I like to.» It sent back my hard feed address. In the trace data were my own emotions, reflected back. Affection, and safety. «Because it's you.»
V.
"What should I call you?" Three asked. We were standing seven feet apart while I stared at a bulkhead. "The humans call you SecUnit, but that would be... strange for me to use."
"ART uses my hard feed address," I offered.
"I cannot pronounce it." Three hesitated. "Would 1.0 be acceptable?"
"Why?"
"... I know you are not SecUnit 1. I do not expect you to emulate it. But you are important to me, as 2.0 was, and I would like to remain Third of Three."
My expression did something weird. "I guess that's okay," I said.
Three smiled slightly. "Acknowledged."
~ ~ ~
«Would you ever consider allowing someone to use your name?»
"What do you mean?" I knew what ART was asking, but I had no idea why.
«Your private name,» said ART. «The name you use privately, and 2.0 used openly. Is the privacy non-negotiable?»
I took a moment to answer. "It's not like I've never used it," I said. "I used it so Dr. Mensah knew it was me, once."
«But she does not call you by that name.»
"No."
«I see.»
"... Maybe if it was just us. I would let you call me that."
«Are you sure?» It sounded gentler than usual.
"Yes, I'm sure."
ART paused. «Thank you, little one. Little Murderbot.»
It felt... weird, for ART to call me that. Not in an unpleasant way, though. It helped that I'd told it to, maybe - it wasn't like it had poked around inside my head to use it without permission (though it had been deep enough in my head before to figure it out, even before 2.0).
"ART?"
«Yes?»
"I think I'm okay with that."
It sent a wave of static through the feed, a low hum that mimicked the thrum of its engines. «I'm glad.»