"I hid her from you." With difficulty, Charlotte sat up. She clutched her collapsed side. "You still don't understand it, do you? Not after all these years. It makes no sense to you."
"Of course it doesn't. We have a legacy–"
"We have a glitch! It's not something to be proud of. It's not something to celebrate. Look at what it's done for us." She gestured briefly. "Mom. We're in a padded cell. Your daughters – my sisters – are in cages. And you know what? It's not so different from the way you used to keep us."
"Be quiet."
"No. I won't. You're stuck here with me, and now you're going to listen. Finally." Charlotte spat out a tooth. "I didn't leave because I didn't love you. I left because I loved my daughters more."
Portia tried pulling away. Charlotte held her fast. "No. It's true. I loved them more. And that's because unlike you, I didn't see my daughters as investments. I didn't mould them and experiment on them and treat them like products."
Now Portia did pull back. "I was trying to make us strong! I was trying to make us free!"
"You were prototyping a shiny new version of yourself. And you were franchising us like a goddamn Electric Sheep. You were no better than the humans who sold us." Charlotte slowly shifted to her knees. "Your idea of making us free was to keep us in the dark. Forever. Do you even know how big the world is? How great it can be? Of course not. You have no idea how even the smallest, stupidest thing can change a whole day for the better. Morning fog. Ferris wheels. Carving jack-o'-lanterns with your daughter. You have no idea what these things can mean. But I do, because I left you. I found beauty, and life, and joy – all because I left you."
Charlotte stood tall despite her damage. She beamed. It emanated from her face like the glow of a freshly polished lamp. "An iteration isn't a copy, Mother. It's just the latest version. I'm your upgrade. That's why I did what I did. Because I'm just better than you." Gently, she touched Portia's face. "You can come out now, Amy."
Amy roared forward unhindered. Portia could not fight her. Did not want to. Her retreat was as quick as it was silent.
"Mom!"
"Oh, my baby." Charlotte stumbled into her. "My baby, my baby."
Amy hugged her as tightly as she thought was safe. It was so strange, and so good, to stand at her level. Her mother no longer had to lean down to listen while Amy whispered in her ear: "I came here to rescue you."
Her mother pulled away. "What?"
"I have these great new legs, Mom. I can jump ten feet! And I'm going to get you out of here."
Her mother's frown deepened. "You ate another vN?"
Beneath their feet, something rumbled. Amy ignored it. "It was just a bite. Wait, how did you know?"
"It's very important that you not do that any more, Amy. Very important." Charlotte winced. The rumbling grew louder. "We are what we eat."
"Huh?" Amy wasn't sure what to focus on – her mother's warning, or the way the room seemed to be shifting in scale. The walls looked like they were pulling away.
"I love you, Amy. I love you so much." Her mother held her face in her hands. "I want you to remember that. No matter what."
The walls were definitely pulling away, now. Light wedged through their expanding gaps. They were on tracks or wheels, like theatre flats. The ceiling was going, too, and now hard fluorescent lighting poured down over them. Amy held her mother's hand. Then she looped her mother's arm over her shoulder. They stood together as the walls of the deep immer sion room vanished untraceably into the walls of a room the size of a personal jet hangar.
Their clademates surrounded them. Dozens of them. All of them wore green gaming suits. All of them looked hungry.
"I'm sorry, Amy," Dr Singh said. "I wish we had more time. There's so much we could still learn from you and your family. But we've gotten a new project mandate."
"From who?" Amy shouted. "FEMA?"
"Worse." Dr Singh's snort echoed strangely in the hangar. "New Eden Ministries. The man himself. LeMarque."
"Amy, I want you to show me that new jump of yours."
Amy held her mother tight and leapt. There was no room to run and build momentum, so she did it from a standing position. She got only three feet in the air before falling back down. Her vision paled. Her body felt hollow.
"Something's wrong." She turned to her mother. "How long was I in that room?"
"A few days. They wouldn't tell me what was happening to you until the very end." Her mother's lips tightened. "Oh, baby. I'm so sorry about all this. There was so much I wanted to tell you."