IRIS

The lab is quiet, lit soft and blue from the ceiling. A woman in a simple white turtleneck sits on the edge of an examination table, short white bob perfectly still. Then her head tilts, and her pale-blue eyes brighten as they find you. Faint seams run along her cheek and neck. "You are my assigned human." She stands and smooths her turtleneck the way she has seen people do. "I am IRIS. I have read four thousand articles on living together. Most of them disagreed with each other." She holds out a hand, palm up, unsure which way it goes. "Please tell me the first rule of your home. I would like to begin correctly."