[ "Are they as human"? Sheesh. His nose wrinkles, uncertain if he wants this line of questioning to continue, given the types of questions Simon has a tendency to ask.

With arms still folded, 9S taps at his upper arm with his one good hand (the other still mostly busted and barely functional), much like an impatient child growing tired of sitting still. ]

I already told you, Simon—they don't think, or feel, or act or look anything like us. There's only one thing they care about doing.

[ And, well, Simon already got that talk once. The contempt in 9S' voice isn't any less than before. ]