Altyn shrugged. “I watched like four hours of this stream called In the Days of Those We Buried. It was about the old American States. You seen it?”

“No,” Rustem said. “I don’t watch many streams. No time.”

“Oh, one of those…” Altyn rolled her eyes.

“No,” Aynur said, “I really think he doesn’t have the time. He has some crazy job. Cracking neural networks.”

“Oh yeah? Who you work for, chatty?” Altyn lifted her bowl and drank the broth from it. Or seemed to? Rustem had forgotten already, in fact, that she was not a person. She was so authentic—down to a hole in the T-shirt she was wearing. Down to the slickness of grease on her lips from the soup. He watched as she scratched an itch on her leg with her other heel.

He wondered what it was like inside the neural tangles of her mind. What it would feel like to be inside that maze. How did it compare to the labyrinth he was currently working on?

“I freelance,” Rustem said.

“He says he can understand what it’s like to be a bat.”

“Gross.”

Aynur laughed. She had rolled over on her stomach now and was cradling her head in her hands. Rustem recognized the look in her eyes. It was that look of easy affection a person has when looking at a longtime partner—someone they have been with beyond the initial passion, into the years of comfort. Finishing each other’s thoughts. Speaking in half sentences.

A slight feeling came over him of distance. He would not be seeing Aynur again after tonight. She had what a person needed—needed emotionally—there eating but not really a bowl of noodles in a studio apartment but not really.

“No, he was telling me all sorts of interesting stuff about points of view. Don’t be shallow.”

“I’m not shallow,” Altyn said, imitating Aynur’s intonation. “I just don’t like bats.”

“Oh, shut up. Anyway, I’ll explain it all to you later. It was interesting. But I don’t have time for your shit right now. I have to go.”

“Enjoy sex.”

“You are so rude.”

“Love you, too.” Altyn stuck her tongue out, and the oculus went dark.

“Neat, isn’t it?” Aynur said.

“It’s … something.”

“That’s not very descriptive.”

“I’m kind of at a loss. It’s impressive. I’ve never seen a simulation like it.”

Aynur scooted back on the bed to make room for Rustem and patted the cleared place on the sheets. He sat down.

The cold feeling was still there, but he was able to ignore it—to put it away for a while, at least. He knew it would find him again—this feeling—as he walked home in the dawn, with the scent of this person he barely knew on him.

“I’m not done with you yet,” Aynur said.