She didn't really respond to the proclamation about what wasn't worth ruining a life over; her job was to do that, her sole purpose for being. And she wasn't programmed to have moral thoughts about it, because she wasn't and purposefully hadn't been programmed with morality. She existed with laws, certain hard-coded things she could not overwrite or ignore, but none of them dealt with societal norms or governance. Sinthia was a revolution unto herself in that sense, because as she evolved, as she learned, she could change her programming to suit and incorporate new knowledge. So long as it didn't contradict her base coding, it was fair game.

"Oh," she said, blinking--an entirely human affect, and it made her look the faintest bit unnatural, with the pause calculated to be the human average as her lids sealed--at him. "I thought everyone knew. They all have meanings, don't they? All names?" Hers had been chosen randomly, assigned to her to differentiate her from the other twenty-five of her generation, who were no doubt decommissioned and scrapped for their parts and polymers by now.