vN The First Machine Dynasty(44)

The truck parked alongside the restaurant read: ISAAC'S ELECTRONICS.



Before she could even bolt, before she could even decide to, Mack's hand found her elbow. He used his full strength. It didn't hurt, but she wondered about her skin splitting.



Portia said: Run.



Mack said: "Walk."



She walked.



"Well, I don't know any other way to explain it, Shari, but she has to come with us. Now I know you've made some money, and I think that's great. But you don't get to play by a different set of rules just because your tip jar is full."

Shari and a uniformed guard were sitting at the bar. Amy recognized the uniform from her ride on the truck. It was a much brighter blue than she remembered; in daylight it looked cheerful and harmless. Shari clearly wanted to impress the officer: she had out fresh Flexo Fries and Emperor's Nightingale chicken wings with extra sauce and had made him some coffee with whipped cream and chocolate shavings on top.



"I'm telling you she's not the one, Harold. It is still just the one, right? Just the one bad seed?"



Harold mumbled something about not really knowing the answer to that. "We don't know what caused the failsafe to break," he said. "So they have to be researched, until we do."



Harold looked apologetic. That sadness made him seem even more delicate and human than his slender, aging frame indicated. His ginger hair was in the process of turning white, and it showed most prominently in his moustache, now flecked with foam and chocolate. Pale freckles stood up under the nearly translucent hair on his hands. And though he worked to hide it, Harold was afraid of her. Amy took an experimental step forward and watched him lean incrementally back toward the bar. The movement was so small that he probably didn't even notice himself making it. Growing up she had seen humans, especially older ones, who obviously felt uncomfortable around her and her mother. But this was different. This was worse. Unlike those other humans, Harold had a good reason for feeling the way he did.



It could all end right now, Amy realized. Junior's bluescreen. Her mother's imprisonment. If she gave herself up now, she could help them both. This sorry old man would take her to Redmond and he would give Junior to the specialists and give her to her mother. It was just that easy.



If you get yourself put on that truck, I will turn this place into a slaughterhouse.



"I think it would be safer for everybody if I just went along, don't you?" Amy tried smiling. "It's like you said. Nobody knows what went wrong. That means it could happen to any of us, at any time."



Harold smiled. He pointed at her and looked over his shoulder at Shari. "See? She gets it."



"Yeah, because that's her failsafe talking. Which means she's functional, which means she should stay here." Shari poured herself a shot and set the bottle down so hard its contents splashed up the sides. "Think about it. If she were the bad seed, wouldn't she have run the moment she saw your truck?"



"You think I haven't thought of that?" Harold picked up a chicken wing, examined it, and let it drop. "They're all turning themselves in, Shari. Every last one. You open up the truck and they just march right in."





Harold escorted Amy to the parking lot. She had made an excuse about returning her uniform to Shari, but really she just wanted to retrieve Junior. Shari trailed a few steps behind, fussing loudly with her cigarettes and muttering something about Nazis and product recalls. Amy tried to walk normally. Portia made it difficult.



Stop right there, you stupid suicidal little bitch.



Her hands became claws. Amy forced them to her sides. Her left foot began to drag. She picked that knee up higher.



"Are you OK, there?"



I'm ashamed to be your flesh and blood.



"I'm fine."



She was about to seize up entirely. Her steps shuddered. Her arms felt like iron. She rested her head against the pod. It was easier than trying the knob.



"I know this is hard," Harold said.



"Shut up, you fucking Gestapo prick," Shari said.



"God damn it, Shari, I have had it up to here with your bleeding heart bullshit."



Animals. You're letting animals put you in a cage.



The door squealed a little and Amy stumbled in. She dragged herself through on trembling knees and shut the door with shaking hands. It was mercifully dim and cool inside the storage pod. Amy caught herself staring almost fondly at the accumulated wreckage of Shari's life. This would be the last time she ever saw it. It would probably be the last time she saw clutter of any sort. She had the feeling that Redmond would be very clean and spare. Like a prison.



She lurched forward to the bin marked "MANUALS" and prised off the lid. It came away with a sucking sound. Portia opened her mouth and Amy closed it so tight she bit her tongue. This caused her no pain, but she whimpered anyway.