[This is pretty likely, congrats on your continued collection of weird life experiences, Rich. He's...close if not dead on, in those assumptions, but pet kind of feels like the wrong way to put it, somehow. Which shows briefly on his face, a wry little wince at the word, though he doesn't have any bright ideas on correcting it, so he just...doesn't.]

Your guess is as good as mine. [He raps the hilt of the Transistor, as if following Richie's train of thought.] Not sure where they start drawing the line. ...not that I'm complaining, or anything.

[Orbs and Transistors are Person enough to scoop up in an emergency, but a Process (whatever it even is, because robo-dog is a good shorthand but the truth is they don't know at all what she is or what makes her tick—and unlike some people they haven't gone out of their way to try and find out,) doesn't seem to make the cut when it comes to evac. Good luck on his end, maybe. Or just bad luck on hers. Probably they'll never know.

Still, this conversation's dreary enough. They're still lucky the evac went through as well as it did at all. And—]

She can take care of herself, I think. Tracked us down once already.

[Pretty good odds, considering it involved two whole apocalypses.]