On the deck, a forgotten inflatable companion leans against the railing. I inflated it, but it didn't activate any preset program like the others. It just stayed quiet, gazing at the starry sky with its printed eyes. I touched its hand—cold, smooth. And so we were, two hollow shells, sharing this expensive, ownerless void. Perhaps its only program is 'to exist,' and nothing more. The most luxurious gift on this cheap cruise ship.