"The compression on that suit was probably the only thing keeping you together," he said. "I can see where your skin stretched out, when your aunts tried to tear you apart. Right here." He ran one delicate finger over her skin. "Christ. I'm sorry."
"For what? You're the one who got dragged in there because of me. I'm the one who should be apologizing."
Javier pulled away. He studied her very closely for a moment, then said: "I think you don't know how bad I've had it, before. Believe it or not, doing interviews with corporate deskjockeys isn't that hard. It's a hell of a lot easier than breaking out of some rathole of a real prison."
"But Junior–"
"Junior will be fine. My boys are strong. I think they've proved that."
"Portia–"
"I'm not on this road with Portia." His head tilted. "When I look at you, I see only you. I don't see her. I know she's in there, but I know she's separate. Like a toxin." Javier pulled the drape of her suit back into place, covering her bare skin. "You drank up all the poison so your mom wouldn't have to. And you've been carrying that poison inside you ever since. But that doesn't make you poisonous yourself."
You know, when he says it like that, I almost believe him.
Amy shut her eyes. "I have to go."
In the bath, she looked at more maps of Mecha. There was a tourism board video, and a succession of photos and films scraped from common feeds, and they all looped over the dark granite tub as Amy scrubbed. She had not had a chance to clean herself up in a long time, and the accumulated grime seemed to have developed a special affection for her skin. No matter how hard she scraped, even when she used her fingernails, it didn't quite come off. And even then, it hid under her nails: the dust of the ruined city and the oil from the bay in greasy grey half-moons that she had to pick out as thoroughly as possible.
When your mother was a little girl, we waited for storms. We ran outside, naked, and danced in the rain.
And then Portia showed it to her: a little girl's body made ghostly by lightning, laughing open-mouthed, her tongue out to catch raindrops.
This is my favourite image of your mother. My baby, wild and free. She should have always stayed that way.
Amy covered her eyes. It did nothing to shut out the image. She dug her the heels of her hands in to her eye sockets.
I miss her, too.
"Don't make me share this with you," Amy whispered. "I don't want to share anything with you, ever again."
She'd be alive now, if she hadn't run away to iterate you.
Amy punched the wall of the tub, hard. It didn't hurt, but the thrumming vibration of force that coursed up her arm silenced Portia for a moment. When she opened her eyes, there was a crack in the tile flooring. The water gurgled there noisily, its flow interrupted by this new interruption in the otherwise smooth surface. Amy watched her knuckles slowly heal themselves. The light from the Mechanese feeds glistened on her wet and smoking skin.
"I'm going to get rid of you, Portia."
She looked up at the display. There was an infomercial about the specialized vN clinics all over Mecha, for mixed couples and families. You could get prescription food there, to help heal wounds faster. There was a little vN boy who had detached his retina while playing baseball with some human kids. He smiled happily for the camera, then pulled his lower lid down and stuck his tongue out. All better.
"I don't care if it takes years. I'll do whatever I have to in order to wipe you out."
She found Javier in the kitchen. He had emptied the entire pantry and spread the contents across every surface of the kitchen, seemingly grouped by category. He turned to her as though to say something, but no words came. He seemed distracted by some detail of the bathrobe Rory had left out for her. Amy didn't find it particularly garish, but she did wish it went past her knees.
"Are you trying to decide what to make?"
Javier blinked. "What? Oh. No." He jammed his hands in his pockets. "I'm just… marvelling, I guess. I've never been in sight of this much food." He grinned. "You know, I think there's enough material here to iterate number fourteen on my roster."
Amy said nothing, but began putting away the boxes.
"Hey. Hey!" Javier caught her arm and turned her to face him. "I wasn't serious. I don't want another baby right now."
"You don't?"
He shook his head. "I think I'll take a break for the next little while." He slapped his belly. "It's nice, not being huge."
"You looked just fine, before. Like you, just… thicker."