Meghan.
He felt suddenly foolish, the entire reason that he’d done what he’d done the previous night having slipped his mind.
“Where is my little girl?” he asked, looking around the room.
“She’s in her bedroom, playing,” Cindy said.
He looked for his pants and found them slung over the arm of the couch. “I want to go say hi,” he said, putting one leg into his pants, and then the other. His cuts and scratches stung like hell, a reminder of what he had been through, and the reason he needed to see his daughter.
“Sure,” Cindy said. “She was all excited to see you this morning.”
Flynn walked barefoot toward his daughter’s room.
“Yep, all excited to see her daddy—until she found that bag full of toys.”
Bag full of toys.
Flynn stopped and turned to smile, remembering the collectible dolls that he’d taken for her.
Then he remembered the gun.
“She’s got the bag?”
“Yeah, why?” Cindy said. “It was full of toys. Those were for her, right?”
Flynn ran from the room, bounding down the hallway.
“Meghan?” he cried out, trying not to sound upset. He didn’t want to scare her, to startle her if…
“Daddy?” he heard his daughter’s tiny voice call out as he entered her room, almost tripping over the pillowcase lying crumpled upon the floor. He could see the gun’s barrel sticking out through the opening and breathed a sigh of relief.
“Hey, baby,” he said, squatting down to pick up the pillowcase, shoving the gun down inside.
She was sitting with her back to him over in the corner, in one of her tiny play chairs in front of a plastic kitchen play set.
“Whatcha doin’, sweetie pie?” he asked her, breathing a sigh of relief.
“Playin’ with my baby,” the little girl said. “This baby needs lots and lots of love.”
She started to turn in her chair, and that was when he saw it, covered in black fur and clutched tightly to his daughter’s chest.
“Love me,” the thing said, turning its hateful gaze to him.
“Oh God…Meg,” Flynn cried, stumbling toward his little girl.
“Love me,” it said again, in that most terrible of voices.
As it turned its face to his baby girl’s chest.
And began to feed.
NOT JUST FOR CHRISTMAS
SARAH LOTZ
Jake was early. He sat in the car for a few minutes, semi-hypnotized by the Christmas lights twinkling through the windows. They gave the house a homey, welcoming glow, which made him feel lonelier and more like an outsider than usual. Amira had gone all out with the decorations this year. An ostentatious wreath hung on the door, and he could make out the gaudy limbs of a giant Christmas tree in the lounge. Someone must have helped her haul that inside—someone who wasn’t him. Never mind. She’d come around. By this time next year at the very latest, he promised himself, he’d be back where he belonged.
He opened the boot and took out the aerated box containing his secret weapon—the weapon he hoped would help rectify his mistakes. It wasn’t heavy, and the contents shifted inside it as he shoved it under an arm to ring the bell. Amira had changed the locks when she kicked him out, and he had to wait in the cold for her to open up. Her face carefully blank, she stepped out of his reach when he lunged in for a kiss. “Come through,” she said to him as if he were a stranger. The twins were in the den, lost in whatever VR game was flavor of the month, and barely murmured “hi, Dad” when he greeted them. The house smelled of spice and slow-roasted meat. He knew she had her parents coming for Christmas dinner tomorrow. He wasn’t invited. He was lucky to be here now.
She glanced at the box. “What’s in there, Jake?”
“Surprise for you and the kids.”
“Do we really need any more surprises from you this year?”
Don’t take the bait. “Let’s go into the kitchen and I’ll show it to you first. You’re going to love it.”
He placed the box on the butcher block and lifted the lid. The bundle of fur inside it uncurled, shook itself, and stared up at them with bright button eyes.
Amira was speechless for a second, then: “A puppy? What the hell, Jake? I can’t believe you—”
He cut her off before her indignation reached boiling point: “It’s not just any old puppy, Mira. It’s a Gen.”
“A Gen? You got the kids a Genpet? How did you…They cost a fortune!”
“I sold my mountain bike to pay for it.” Not entirely true. He’d downgraded his state-of-the-art mountain bike to a cheaper model, but she didn’t need to know that. Not until he was safely back in the house, feet under the table. But it had cost a fortune, as had the special food it needed, which ensured it only excreted odorless pellets. No pooper-scooper needed—the genetic engineers had thought of everything. The puppy yipped. He picked it out of its box and placed it on the kitchen floor. With its round button eyes and large, out-of-proportion paws, even he had to admit it was ridiculously cute (and he loathed dogs). It sniffed at his shoes, cocked its head, and let out a soft woof. It resembled the Labrador puppies that toilet paper manufacturers used to put on their packaging.
Amira’s eyes softened. But she wasn’t that easy to win over. “I thought Gens were banned,” she said. “Wasn’t there a court case—”
“PETA lost the case. Gens are totally legit now.”
“We don’t have the space for an animal, Jake.”
“It’s a Gen, Mira. It’ll never grow up. It’s engineered to stay this small and cute forever.” Well, not strictly forever, although Genpets were tweaked to last almost thirty years (“with a Genpet, your child won’t experience the heartbreak of death!” went the advertising slogan).
“Hmmm.” The puppy yawned, showing off a pink tongue and white baby teeth. She smiled. “Aw. It is adorable.”
“And it’ll get the kids away from their screens, teach them some responsibility.”
Amira gave him a sideways look. “Yeah, because it’s the kids who need to learn that.”
He bit his tongue. “So what do you say? Shall we give it to the kids?”
She glanced down at the puppy, then smiled again. “Okay.” As she bent to pick it up, the dog froze, mid-woof, as if it were having some sort of petit mal seizure. “There’s something wrong with it, Jake.”
“It’s just updating. They implant something into their nervous systems to help control their behavior.” He dug out his phone and clicked onto the Genpet home page. “Look, you can download apps for it. You can get updates, teach it to do tricks, that kind of thing. Takes all the work out of having a pet.”
“But I thought the point was to teach the kids some responsibility?”
The twins appeared at that moment, saving him from answering. They let out identical screams of glee when they saw the puppy.
“No way!” Caitlin threw herself on the dog. It didn’t snap at her or try to run away. “You’re the best, Dad!”
Jake even received a hug from Carl. He’d missed the twins. He could have fought for shared custody, but he’d learned from bitter experience that his studio apartment wasn’t suitable for kids (another selfish decision, according to Amira). No, he would wait. Amira would forgive him eventually.
“What are you going to call it?” he asked them.
“He looks just like a teddy bear,” Caitlin said.
It did. “Then let’s call him Teddy,” Amira said.
“Teddy!” the kids yelled in unison.
Amira allowed Carl and Caitlin to stay up late playing with Teddy. Jake downloaded a “sit and roll over” app, and the twins watched the Gen practicing its tricks until all three of them were exhausted. As both wanted to sleep with Teddy, they sprawled across the bed Jake used to
share with Amira, the puppy squeezed between them. Amira took a pic and shoved it up on her Instagram and Twitter feeds. Within minutes, it had thousands of views. Most of the comments were along the lines of
“Just ignore them,” Jake said to her. “They’re just jealous.”
It had all gone so well, he dared to hope that Amira would offer him a glass of wine. She didn’t, but she gave him a warm hug when she saw him out.
He drove home through the quiet streets feeling more at ease than he had since Amira caught him with the intern. Would Teddy make up for his mistakes? He honestly did regret the years of selfishness, leaving her alone with the twins every weekend so that he could go mountain biking with his mates (and the other extracurricular activities that he didn’t really want to dwell on). He thought the dog just might help bridge the gap. Genpets, bringing families together.
* * *
—
He used Teddy as an excuse to return two days later. The kids were out in the front yard playing with the puppy. It was the first time he’d seen them unglued from their screens since they were toddlers.
This time, Amira let him kiss her on the cheek when she let him in. “They’re loving Teddy, Jake. They’re walking him every day and feeding him and cleaning up after him. It’s so good to see them outside for once.”
“They’re going to love what I’ve brought them even more. I’ve got a surprise for you all.”
“Another one?” No sarcasm this time. They shared a smile. You’re almost there, he told himself.
He called the kids inside and downloaded the app he’d purchased into Teddy’s home page. It had cost almost as much as the Genpet itself, but that’s what an overdraft was for.
Teddy froze while he updated and then said, “Hello! I’m AddNameHere. Can we go for a walk?”
Amira gasped, and the kids squealed. “OMG, Dad! Teddy can talk?”
“Yup. It’s a new add-on they’ve just developed.”
The dog’s words didn’t quite match its mouth movements, so watching it speak was disconcerting, like cheap CGI, but that didn’t matter. And sure, the voice was childlike and accent-less, and more saccharine than he’d like, but judging from Amira’s stunned reaction, that didn’t matter, either. He added its name to the home page, and Teddy paused momentarily while this new information trickled through to the software embedded in his cortex.
“Hello, Caitlin and Carl Tillman-Khan and Amira Khan and Jake Tillman. Thank you very much for making me part of your family. I love you!”
Amira blinked. “How does he know our names?”
“He’s Wi-Fi enabled. I’ve linked him to our devices.”
“So awesome, Dad!” Carl hugged his legs.
Teddy rolled onto his back, exposing his belly. “Teddy needs to poop! Teddy wants to go walky!”
They all laughed.
That night he didn’t go back to his apartment.
* * *
—
Amira wanted to take things slow, which was fair enough. All that mattered was that the cold war between them was over. Every weekend Jake was invited to join Caitlin, Carl, and Amira on their outings with Teddy: picnics, walks around the park, and hikes through the woods. He couldn’t help but feel smug. This new screen-free family togetherness was all down to him. His only concerns were that Teddy’s conversation skills were sorely limited and dull (they mostly involved pronouncements about walks and food), and as Genpets were becoming more and more ubiquitous, he was worried the puppy would lose his edge. Everywhere he went he spotted Genpets in handbags, Genpets in the backs of cars, Genpups for the sight and hearing impaired, Genbunnies gamboling in front yards. The world was awash with kittens that wouldn’t stray and puppies that wouldn’t chew furniture and shit everywhere. He’d heard that PETA had successfully blocked horses and exotic pets from being Gennified for now, but it was only a matter of time before there were talking tarantulas and ponies. It was amazing how quickly a talking dog could become the norm.
On Valentine’s Day he rocked up to the house clutching twenty red roses. Amira took them from him distractedly. “We’ve got a problem, Jake.”
“What kind of problem?” He swallowed nervously.
She called Teddy’s name, and the puppy came bounding up to her. “Listen,” she said to Jake.
“Hello, Amira Khan,” Teddy said. “Are you still considering size six Louboutin shoes snakeskin? Hello, Amira Khan, you won’t believe what David Hasselhoff looks like now!”
“What the hell?”
“Teddy’s spamming us. Someone must have hacked him. He’s been trying to sell the kids Minecraft updates all day.”
Teddy snuffled at Jake’s shoes. “Hello, Jake Tillman! Are you still considering Ibis Ripley 29 LS Mountain Bike with a Boost 148 option?”
“See?” Amira said. “He’s got access to our browsing history, remember.”
Jake had reason to feel uneasy, but it was too late to do anything about it, for a second later Teddy trilled: “Don’t forget to renew your DeviantTeenPorn premium subscription, Jake Tillman. Underage Scandi Babes just for you!”
Amira’s face shut down. He tried to convince her that he wasn’t actually signed up to a dodgy porn site (he was) and had only clicked on it out of boredom, but she refused to listen.
“Get the dog fixed, Jake. Take it to the vet. And do it before the kids get back from soccer.”
Cursing the dog, and himself, he did as she asked. He wasn’t the only one who was having issues. The vet’s waiting room was packed with punters and their malfunctioning Genpets: a kitten that mewled the soundtrack to an upcoming HBO series over and over again; a golden retriever pup that jabbered on about “half-price sheds at bargain prices,” and a bunny that squeaked about the top-five celebrities who’d had botched plastic surgery.
He kept Teddy sealed safely in its box. Christ knew what else it might dig up from his history. The Genpets’ owners all avoided one another’s eyes, and Jake’s attention drifted to the posters on the wall. One blared: “Genpets: THE DOWNSIDE. What you need to know.” Another poster entreated people not to dump their old faithful traditional pets in favor of Gens. It showed a forlorn golden retriever cowering by the side of the road, fur matted and ribs visible.
He was called in to the examination room. The vet resembled Gillian Anderson, and he squirmed as he opened the box, steeling himself for whatever embarrassing nugget Teddy might reveal. Teddy didn’t disappoint: he cocked his head and said, “Jake Tillman, are you still considering hot Asian girl will do anal?”
“Oh dear,” the vet said, not bothering to hide a smirk. “He was hacked, was he? We’re seeing a lot of these.” She looked at Jake shrewdly. “You have insurance?”
“Is it going to cost a lot?”
“Oh yeah. When Gens go bad, they cost a fortune to fix.” He realized she was enjoying this. She was probably one of those anti-Gen campaigners.
While Teddy babbled about cut-price Danish furniture on eBay and Nissan 350Zs for sale on Autotrader (the vet’s browsing history was clearly less compromising than Jake’s), she checked Teddy’s vital signs and placed the dog inside a machine that resembled a pet-size CAT scan. “These days I feel more like an IT guy than a vet,” she murmured, adjusting its settings. The machine whirred and clicked, and then she said, “All done. He’s back to normal.”
“Will it happen again?”
The vet yawned. “Dunno.”
“You think I could get my money back from the company I bought it from?”
When he left, his bank account was firmly in the red.
Back in the car, Teddy rolled around on the back seat. “Teddy want a walk. Teddy want a walky, Jake Tillman.”
“Okay, okay.”
He stopped at the park and stormed around the playing fields, the wet grass soaking his shoes. Teddy’s little legs had to work overtime to keep up with him. He crossed paths with another couple of Genpet walkers. Neither the pets nor the people looked like they were enjoying the experience. What was the point? Gens were cute but annoyingly predictable. A dark thought came drifting in. He could chuck Teddy out of the car en route back to the house. Tell the kids he ran away. No. Genpets couldn’t run away. They were genetically engineered not to stray. Anyway, it would be a waste: Teddy was fixed now. It would all be fine.
* * *
—
The year wore on. Porn-gate had been a major setback, and Jake was back to square one as far as relations with Amira were concerned. Plus, his plan had backfired. The kids were now bored of the talking dog. Teddy had become a background ornament to them, like a chair, or their parents. Sometimes he didn’t see the kids for weeks at a time—Amira always had an excuse.
He found himself googling adventure holidays, as well as other, darker things. Depressed, he put on weight. He spent his days at work and nights slumped on the couch stuffing his face with junk food. His mountain bike sat gathering dust in his locker.
Amira’s call came on one of his rare days off. “Come and get it, Jake. Come and get it now.”
“Come and get what?”
“The dog. The bloody dog, arsehole.”
She hung up.
The car wouldn’t start on the first try. It needed a new starter motor, but he was still paying off Teddy’s vet bills. And he’d missed the boat as far as pet insurance went. There were rumors that the Genpet corp was heading for bankruptcy; there were only so many class actions it could field.
Hark! the Herald Angels Scream Page 8