Oh, we're back on the boat bullshit. Murderbot sits and stays sitting, without leaning too far to either side. This boat is tiny, like most of the small vessels that visited the Preservation survey it was last on. It dislikes its location, but given it has no idea where it is and what dangers are in the water, it grumpily stays put.

"Penny," Murderbot says. It leaves its scan on but doesn't ping the android. It's been some time since the conversation on the network, but it feels as awkward as it did then.

"I have a bad feeling about this," it murmurs. Not because it's Penny but because getting taken to another location against one's will is never a promising sign. This place doesn't feel like a memory (not that memories feel like memories, but you read the book, you get a sense of what's going on, and in you go... or in you go with someone who did that).