"...okay. I think I understand but please tell me if I say anything that sounds like I don't so we can clear it up. Flashback is a real word and sounds like the right one for what you describe."

"Okay."

"This application looks done to me, do you want to read it over to see?"

"Sure. That sounds okay."

She passes the tablet over to him - she has a chiplock but isn't using it for this.

"...Thanks."

"You're welcome. If that looks right you can poke that green box there and it'll submit."

He pokes that green box there.

It submits. "I'll get the followup response when they've had a chance to look at it. Is there anything else I can help you with until then, including by leaving you alone?"

He looks at her hungrily. Metaphorically hungrily. "Are they going to answer fast enough that there's no point in learning how you get coffee delivered?"

"- I'd expect this to take at least a few hours and maybe all day. The building has a commissary on the second floor. You can go in person, if you don't want a computer to order a delivery robot. Would you like me to go with you and show you how you'd do that, or leave you this tablet and show you how to use that?"

"...I can go in person? That’s allowed?"

"Yes... can you tell me why that wasn't your presumption?"

"People seem like they really, really want me to go to the forest instead of basically everywhere else, probably because I’m dirty and poor and human. And I don’t think I can actually buy coffee there because I don’t have any money."

"Oh, the commissary in particular is free, it's not a fully-featured restaurant with staff it'd need to pay, just a replicator and some nonmagical robots. I think people suggesting you go to the forest probably expected it would help you feel better. It's usually very good for Angband victims."

Shrug. "Maybe. I - would like to learn how to get coffee from the commissary?'

"Okay. In person?"

"Yeah."

She gets up and holds the door into the hallway for him.

Walk walk walk.

Elevator. Commissary. It's a little alcove with robots of various sizes hanging out on shelves and a big replicator. "Black coffee," she says to the replicator. It produces a cup of black coffee.

"What languages does it know?"

"Most of them. English will work fine."

"Thank you." He smiles his panhandling smile again. It’s at least half sincere this time.

"You're welcome." She offers him the coffee.