"It's a very generous offer. Thank you. I'll think about it." She looked up. "But what about the failsafe? When they erase Portia, will I still have the flaw?"
The hope evaporated from Dr Sarton's face. He looked at Atsuko. "Darling? Could you please let us discuss this in private?"
Atsuko gave Amy and Javier what she must have thought was a gracious smile before she left. "I'll be just outside."
When the door closed behind her, Sarton spoke up. "The answer is that I'm not sure. To be honest, I'm not even sure that you inherited the breakage from your grandmother."
If this were a fairy tale, this would be the moment when the wise old wizard tells you that you were a magical princess all along, Amy thought.
He pulled up another image, this one taken directly from a feed. The vague shape of human heads filled the display. They blurred, corrected themselves, resolved into children's bored faces. The camera drifted over all of them, before settling on a fat little girl with straight brown hair and red cheeks. Britt, her name was. Amy remembered her. She never did her worksheets and she was always yelling. Now Britt caught sight of the camera. She crossed her arms and looked away. She rocked back and forth in her chair aggressively, practically throwing herself against the chair as her legs swung out and back, out and back. She was kicking the leg of someone else's chair; Amy heard the tiny ting it made ringing through the hubbub of shrill momspeak.
Dr Sarton made a hook with one finger and pulled it to the right. The footage sped up. Amy watched her whole class stand up and dance. She watched her teacher get up and speak. At this speed, her constant swaying made her look like a toy hula dancer on somebody's dashboard. Then something blurred across the screen. Portia. Dr Sarton pulled his finger-hook sharply to the left, then released it. The footage reversed, then returned to normal speed. Portia hopped onstage. She beckoned to Amy. Amy refused. Then Nate tripped Portia.
"Close your eyes, Javier," Dr Sarton said.
But you're not a magical princess. You don't have the power to spin straw into gold. You have the power to kill human beings, Amy thought.
Portia picked Nate up by the ankle. The screaming started. His body flew and the camera followed it. It spun, his limbs flailing and his little hands grasping at empty air, and he landed on his head, the neck snapping and blood streaking across the floor as he skidded to a stop. The camera's view hit the floor. It jarred across tipping chairs and hurrying feet. Then it rose, first high to the ceiling and then down again, to the stage, where Amy's mother rocketed up to the piano.
Dr Sarton made a "time" gesture, the fingers of one hand intersecting with the other palm. The footage paused. Then he hooked the footage left again. He froze it in place. "BR-82."
The rest of the footage floated away, scattering like leaves in a breeze. Only a single image remained: Amy's watchful face, turned away from the stage and toward the audience. "Do you remember what you were looking at?" Dr Sarton asked.
Amy shook her head. "No."
Yes, you do.
"I only looked at Nate after I ate Portia," Amy said. "My failsafe still worked then; I didn't watch the grown-up human channels, I didn't play anything that was too violent or too real, my parents wouldn't let me."
"Exactly," Dr Sarton said. "Your parents wouldn't let you. So how would you have known?"
Amy backed away from the display. "Fine. If you're so sure, find my memory of that night. See if I really saw what you think I saw."
"You know I can't do that, Amy." He stood up. "And you should know that even if I could fix you – which I can't – I wouldn't. It would be wrong. It would be like destroying a masterpiece."
"What?" Amy's fists tightened. "This isn't a masterpiece, it's an accident. And it's hurt way too many people."
Dr Sarton's eyes played over her. "You ate your grandmother," he said. "Why did you do that?"
"Because! She was…"
Amy paused. Why had she done it, really? She hadn't paused to think about it in the moment. Her feet had started moving and she had known what to do. There had been no doubt in her mind that it was the right thing. She knew now that it was a mistake – a huge, epic, terrible mistake that had destroyed the lives of too many people, organic and synthetic both. But in the beginning, she had just been trying to help.
We all know what happens when you try to help.
"I did it because Portia was hurting people," Amy said.
"Hurting people, or hurting your mother?" Dr Sarton stood. "You didn't tell the people to run, Amy. You didn't stand between Portia and your father. You ran right up those stairs and you pounced on the woman who was hurting your mother."
"She killed Nate! She was going to kill my mom!"
"Did she have any peroxidase with her? Did she have a taser?"
"No, but–"
"Did your mother look like she was in pain? Had she suddenly gained the ability to suffer, while you were busy accepting your little diploma?"
"I don't know! But I couldn't just let Portia keep hitting her, she was my mom, and I loved her–"
"Yes! Exactly!" Dr Sarton snapped his fingers and grabbed her by the shoulders. "You loved her. You loved her more than you loved anybody else in that room. More than your friends or your teacher or even your father. You chose your mother, your fellow robot, over them."
Sarton seemed to remember who exactly he was touching. He let go, and pulled his smoking jacket a little tighter around himself. "Don't you know how special that is?" He swallowed. "People have been working for years to bring your gifts to life. Since the very moment the failsafe was conceived of, humans have wanted to see how it might fail. If you knew the patents I had to wade through, the otaku braggart bullshit, the fanboys and fangirls who had claimed to have hacked your clade–"
"People wanted this to happen?" She didn't want Portia to be right about this, too. "You wanted this to happen?" Amy asked.
Dr. Sarton smiled ruefully. "Your shell has always possessed a very devoted fandom. It was only a matter of time until one of us successfully remixed the code. If I go through Portia's memories, maybe I'll find out who it was." He looked a little shy, now. "And then I'll ask them how they did it."
Javier's fingers touched Amy's back lightly. His voice was in her ear. "I'll wait outside."
The door shut behind him.
Dr Sarton stood a little taller as he watched Javier leave. For the first time, Amy realized that Sarton might have been a bit intimidated by Javier. Not because Javier would ever hurt him, but because he was just so much better looking.
"You're very human, Amy." Sarton nodded to himself. "That must be why he stays with you."
"What?"
"It makes sense. You've spent more time with a wider variety of humans than most other vN. You learned human behaviour from children, who are far less guarded than adults. Naturally you're more human-seeming to other vN." He resumed his seat and crossed his legs. His top foot wiggled back and forth. "You're probably triggering his failsafe. That's why he hasn't left you behind. He can't, even though he should. You're a great danger to him, you know. Javier was already a wanted man before, but now…" He shrugged.
He was right. Maybe not about what motivated Javier – Amy had no way of knowing that – but about the danger she'd put him and his boys into. She had to make it right. Amy leaned down to his eye level. "How many visas did you arrange?"
"Just the one–"
"That's not good enough. In fact, this whole exchange hasn't been good enough. I came to you for help and you gave me the choice between selling my story and selling my body. That's your idea of me getting my life back, and it's absurd." She licked her lips and made sure Sarton saw it. "Since I absorbed Portia, I've done my best not to hurt any humans. I've fought her every second and I haven't always won. And I am very, very tired."
Look at those pupils. Look at that blush. Look at those beads of sweat. He wants this moment so bad he can taste it. Pathetic.
Dr Sarton's damp face trembled. Suddenly Amy saw her
mother there, saw Portia holding her face. Slowly, she stood up – but not all the way.
"I need at least two more visas."
He nodded. "OK. I'll see what I can do." He tried to smile. "If it helps any, I've found you a safe place to stay while you decide. Or rather, Rory found it for you. A car will come and pick you up, once you're on the surface."
Amy instantly felt sorry for intimidating him. "Thank you. That's very kind of you."
"I really do want to help you, Amy. I know that must be hard to believe, coming from a human, but…" His lips thinned. "I know what it's like to have a family curse."
ONE
Tourist Trap™
Back in the Rover, Amy said nothing. There was nothing much to say, and she doubted Javier wanted to listen to her complaints. Even if he did, it was probably because his programming told him to and not because of any individual desire on his part. Not that he felt any desire for her in the first place – he was just caught in some weird code loop that saw her as both too human to leave alone and not human enough to love. As with everything else, it came down to the failsafe. Until now, she had wanted to fix hers so that she could get rid of Portia, or at least protect people from Portia's madness. But if fixing the failsafe meant never having to feel this again – this empty hopeless ache for the impossible – she couldn't wait to find the next roboticist.
I've been telling you all along that you can't get rid of me. You refused to believe me, and look where it's gotten you.
Amy rested her head on her folded knees. She shut her eyes.
Your mother tried to run away from what she was, too. But we all know how that turned out.
Softly, Amy shook her head. She could handle most of Portia's taunts. But she drew the line at mocking her mother.
There is no line, Portia continued. We are one flesh. Everything about you that is strong or special or in any way unique is really just a hand-me-down from me. Before I came along you were just a carbon lattice of wasted potential. Why do you think I came for you that night?
Amy sat up a little straighter. Beside her, Javier frowned at her. She shook her head and held up a hand, so she could listen better.
Your mother was raising you to be something you were not, Portia said. She was pretending, hiding in plain sight, lying to your father and to you. She was always going to hold you back. I came to rescue you. I came to make you free.
"Then why did you have to murder someone?" Amy couldn't help asking aloud.
To test you, of course. I wouldn't waste my time on another of your mother's cripples.
"What's she saying?" Javier asked.
Amy looked up through the bubble. It was dim, but there was light up at the surface. They rose toward it slowly. She wondered where they would pop up. Would the tides have carried them somewhere entirely new? Or would they wind up right where they'd started?
"Amy?" Javier waved a hand between her eyes and the plastic. "Don't bluescreen on me now; we're almost home."
Amy shook her head. "I'm fine. Portia was just telling me why she came looking for me."
"You sure she's telling the truth?"
Amy shook her head. "I'm not sure it matters."
The bubble burst, and the water rushed in. Overhead, botflies chased each other, replacing the stars that the heavy clouds obscured. The city light reflected on their lumpy arc, casting them in purple and orange, and already Amy heard the sounds of the museum over the steady lapping of waves. The two of them seemed much smaller, surrounded by all that black and oily water, and for a moment Amy could imagine that the mistakes that had brought her here weren't so huge, that their ripples did not in fact extend into shadows she couldn't see or even imagine, and that someday she really would overcome them. Then a foghorn sounded, and Javier's foot nudged hers under the water, and together they swam for the city.
"This is dangerous! Let's swim home!"
Two dolphins, one a little larger than the other, were giving them a firm talking-to about the dangers of swimming in the waters of Elliott Bay. The fact that they were mecha dolphins – with brushed ceramic bodies and a single camera eye whose surface occasionally flashed emoticons – did nothing to hold them back from behaving in an utterly dolphin-like manner. They zigged and zagged around and between Amy and Javier's legs, and bumped them with their blunt, streamlined noses. Presently, the big one reared up in the water, exposing a belly etched with a TouristTrap™ logo, and flapped his flippers. "This area is off limits! You could get hurt! Let's swim over that way!"
"I think they think we're humans," Amy called over to Javier, who had fallen a little behind her. She waved a hand before the little one's eye. "It's all right! We're OK! We can't really drown!"
"This swimmer is in distress!" The big dolphin slid up and under Javier. His eye flashed white and red, like an ambulance light. "Let's take you home! Your family is waiting for you!"
"Oh, shit," Javier managed to say before the dolphin launched itself across the water.
Amy slapped the little dolphin's flank. She pointed at the wake Javier and the big one had left behind. "Follow them!"
The dolphins brought them to a marina. The car Dr Sarton had promised was there waiting. It flashed a cheery greeting at them before twitching to one side, exposing the seam between two exoskeletal panels and allowing them to slip through. The car had no driver, and no proper seats or windows, either. From the inside, the whole thing was tinted glass and the plush foam floor pulsed warmly like Dr Sarton's living cushion. Amy felt like Snow White in her very royal, very creepy glass coffin. The car spoke with the same voice as Atsuko: "Please relax and enjoy these towels."
Pieces of the velvety ceiling above them peeled off, instantly hot and yuzu-scented, as though the car itself had a very organic scent gland tucked away for the sole purpose of attracting potential passengers. Javier took the strips of ceiling and handed one to Amy. She squeezed her hair with it and wrapped it around her neck. Then she stretched out. Javier did the same. They were silent as the car started up and rolled away.
"What is it with us and the backs of cars, huh?" he asked, finally.
Amy turned to him. He was already watching her. "Technically, we met in the back of one," she said. "I guess it started a pattern."
Javier rolled onto his side and stared down at her. "Are you OK?"
Amy shook her head softly.
"How are you, then?"
She searched for the right word. "Broken."
He surveyed her. "You're all in one piece as far as I can tell." When she frowned, he said: "OK, bad joke. But you're here. You're alive. You're still Amy. That's good, right?"
"Is it?" She gripped both ends of the towel around her neck, instead of hugging herself. "What if Sarton is right? What if I've always been… flawed?"
"Everybody's flawed."
"But other people's flaws don't kill little kids!" She tried digging herself deeper into the plush of the floor. "This whole thing started out with me thinking I could save my mom. And then I thought I could save Junior. And I thought I could save you, too. I think I can save everybody, and it turns out everybody should be running in the other direction."
"This again?" He tapped the skin between her eyes with a single finger. "You've been living with your crazy old granny for too long. You're starting to believe her bullshit."
It's not bullshit. You're a bad idea for everyone around you.
Amy rolled away so she wouldn't have to face him. "I asked Sarton to get you and Junior a visa, too. You said you'd always wanted to go. But it's OK if you don't want to come with me. Or if you want to split up once we get there. I just thought, since you're on the run anyway–"
"I'll go."
Amy twisted back to look at him. "You will?"
"Sure. Why not?" He stretched out on his back. "I can't believe you remembered that I'd wanted to go there."
"Of course I remembered! It's my failsafe that's faulty, not my memory!"
"Well, you can see how I would be confused, you be
ing so hopelessly flawed and all–"
He jerked away when Amy poked him in the ribs. Then he rolled over and grabbed her wrist with one hand as he tickled her with the other. Amy shrieked. She had forgotten about tickling. She struggled to use her free hand to retaliate, but Javier had a very determined look about him and seemed intent on making her squirm.
"What the hell is going on with this bodysuit thing?" His fingers danced up her sides. "There's no zipper anywhere."
"Why would you need to find the zipper?"
"Please refrain from soiling the vehicle," the car said.
Javier rolled off her. He shut his eyes. "Home, Jeeves."
vN: The First Machine Dynasty Page 23