vN The First Machine Dynasty(78)

One of his eyebrows lifted. "And they say robots can't lie." Javier reached in one pocket. Inside was a tiny squared-off lump of fab-porcelain that looked an awful lot like a false tooth. "Now show me your lying mouth."



"What?"



"Do you trust me or don't you?"



Amy scowled at him. He cocked his head. He held up the tooth. He opened his mouth. Rolling her eyes, Amy opened hers, too, and let him wedge the tooth back where her molars would be, if she had real ones. Then he stood up. "Just talk normally," he said. "It might take a while. It's only a prototype; the deaf guy took the finished product." He shrugged. "I'm not even sure this will help."



"What are you talking about?"



"It's a secure line." Javier ushered her into the living room, and sat her down on the couch. "One thing Rory knows is broadband."



"Hello?" said someone inside her mouth. The voice reverberated through her face. It sounded muffled and a little flat. "Hello? Is anyone there?"



The voice was insistent. It sounded a little pissed off, actually. "Hello?"



Finally her mouth opened. "Hi, Dad."





"Dad, it's OK, you don't have to cry…"



He kept saying "Oh my God," and "You're OK," and "Don't tell me where you are; they're listening." And the more he said those things, the more she had to keep telling him that no, really, she was just fine, she was safe for the moment and no, she wasn't hurt and no, she didn't think anyone was recording the phone call – or if they were, it would soon be erased.



He snorted. "You must've made some powerful friends."



"I guess you could say that."



Her dad was quiet for a second. "You sound really grown up."



Amy swallowed. "I don't feel grown up."



"I heard you've been pulling some pretty crazy stunts."



Amy almost laughed. "Yeah, I guess so."



"Yeah, well, stop doing that." She heard him clear his throat. "I mean it. I need you to run away and hide and not contact me again."



"Dad–"

"Amy."

He had used his Dad Voice. It was rare; normally he sounded a little lazy and slack, but the Dad Voice was something (he said) that he'd inherited from his own father. And it meant you were supposed to be quiet and listen and stop interrupting, already.



"I'm serious. And I shouldn't have to tell you that. You know exactly how much danger you're in, right?"



"Yes…"



"So find a safe place and stay there. Forever."



He sounded tired. He sounded old. Amy had never really thought about his age, before. His birthday was just the day he got his special organic cake and blew out a trick candle that insisted on blazing back to life the moment he lifted his knife and fork to eat. She had never asked about the number. There were a lot of things she'd never asked about. And now, she had no time. There was too much to say.



"Dad, I have to tell you something–"



"Is it about your mother?"



"Yes."



"They told me." He cleared his throat. "I'm so sorry, baby. I didn't know it would ever get this bad. I'm just happy you got out of there when you did. I'm so grateful for that."



There was a moment while they each struggled not to cry over the phone. Amy imagined her dad in a room with other men, trying to keep it together in front of them so they wouldn't take advantage of his weakness, later. She concentrated on the sounds of Javier puttering in the kitchen, singing something in Spanish, as though to prove that he weren't listening.



"Did you know about Mom? About the failsafe?"



"No," he said immediately. "I promise. I didn't know."

"Did you know she had other daughters before me?"

"What?"

Amy wiped her eyes. "It's true. She did. And Portia killed all of them." She laid her head down on her arms. She shut her eyes. "Dad, she's really crazy. And she's in my head and I can't get rid of her."



Her dad was silent for a long time. So long, in fact, that she started asking if he was still there, when he said: "My dad was with me for a long time like that, too."



"Dad, that doesn't make any sense."



"Parents are programmers, Amy. That's their job. And my dad tried to give me a whole series of goals and directives before he wound me up and let me go." She could almost hear him shrugging through the tooth. "I know it's sort of a clumsy metaphor, but you should remember that as the next generation, it's actually your job to piss your elders off. You're supposed to do things differently from them. Because in the end, your granny's way of doing things didn't work out too well, did it?"