It was held in a silver hand. Everson raised his eyes to the waiting android from the Tree and found himself surprised at how happy he was to see her.
He took the proffered smoke and leaned back on the bed, reclining casually on one elbow. He took a deep drag, the tobacco surprisingly smooth and aromatic.
“Pour me a drink,” he addressed the waiting android, wanting to bask in the glow of his unexpected success but also to confirm that he was, in fact, the one in control here.
She nodded politely and scanned the room. She quickly spied a corner table where a pair of dusty bottles and a cluster of goblets sat. The android held up a hand as she crossed, and Everson interpreted the gesture as a signal to wait.
A little mollified, he realized he had commanded her like, well, she was a dog
