“I was not–”
“Yeah, you were,” Javier said, quietly.
Their eyes met. Xavier glanced between them. He tracked the line of their gaze. Amy broke it first. She turned to Xavier and held his hands.
“Well, I certainly wasn’t very smart. I bit off way more than I could chew.”
His youngest son had the decency to hold in his giggles for approximately three seconds before snerking through his nose. Amy shut her eyes and pursed her lips.
“I just said that aloud, didn’t I?”
“Yup!” Xavier punctuated his sentence with a five-foot standing jump. The kid was good, probably better than his older brothers. He landed like a superhero, a classic three-point pose, one knee and one fist plunging down into the black earth below. It was his favourite pose. He looked up at them, grinning. “You’re wrong,” he said.
Amy stood up and crossed her arms. “Oh, really?”
“Yeah, really. It was a good thing you ate Portia. If you hadn’t, you’d never have met Dad.”
Oh, his son was very good. Amy looked a little stunned. Her mouth kept opening and closing. She obviously had no idea what to say. What a brilliant little tactician Javier had iterated. Thirteen was apparently his lucky number.
“And if you never met Dad, I’d have been born in prison.” Xavier blinked at him, all wide-eyed innocence. “Right, Dad?”
“Es verdad, mijo.”
“So it’s really good that you ate her. Otherwise I wouldn’t even be here.”
Q-E-motherfucking-D, Javier wanted to say, but didn’t. Instead he caught his son’s eye and winked. His son winked back.
“Thank you for reminding me,” Amy said. “And now, let me remind you of something: you’re not going near the boat, today.”
Xavier’s mouth fell open. “Oh, come on…”
“No humans. Period.”
“But–”
“This isn’t a discussion. The island will tell me if you even come close, so don’t bother.”
The boy looked at Javier. Javier shook his head softly. The boy rolled his eyes. “I’m gonna go work on my treehouse, now.” He peeled away from them and jogged his way into a jump.
“Be careful…” Amy trailed off. The boy was already gone, leap-frogging over other vN and sailing through swarms of botflies. They watched him grow smaller as he jumped further and further away.
“Do you think he remembers?” Amy asked. “When I tried to eat him?”
“When Portia tried to eat him.” Javier slid an arm around her waist. “And no, I don’t. He was already bluescreened by then. He took a few thousand volts on that fence before Portia even touched him. And it was a couple of chimps who put him there, not you. Not her, I mean.” He squeezed her to him and kissed her scalp. “Stop doing this. I mean it.”
“But what if he’s watched it?” Amy turned to him. “The clip is out there. Just like the one of me attacking her. If he was curious enough to look for one, he’s probably seen the other.”
“Then he’s seen you rescue him, too.”
Amy’s affect hardened. Her lips firmed. “They never show that part.”
“Hey. Querida.” Javier tilted her chin up so she had to look him in the eye. In the daylight her eyes were the colour of wreckage, of seaglass, hard and bright and old. “We’ve been over this. Even if he does remember it, he’s let it go. We’ve all let it go.”
Amy smiled ruefully. “The chimps haven’t.”
The chimps were the real reason the island was so popular. Many of the youngest islanders had never met a human being. Their parents came here to iterate and either stayed on or left to rejoin the outside world. Another shipment was coming today.
“Do you think we’ll see any of yours?”
They were surveying the portion of the island Amy called “The Veldt.” Javier had no idea what a “veldt” was. He assumed it was a fancy word for “orphanage.” It comprised two of the island’s arteries. It looked like a forest out of fairy tales: the trees were thick and tall, with broad leaves and boughs like curled fingers. The waters were shallow; you could actually touch bottom. As Javier watched, a shimmering exoskeletal crab scuttled its way out of the water, blinked once at him with a series of red LEDs, and went along its way. It was not alone. A series of non-networked camel-bots and prototype service ani-mechs ranged the area, ready to play fetch or give the kids a ride or just lie down with them at night. It was safe enough for the little ones to wander freely. At least, Javier assumed so. He rarely saw them, underneath the fogbank.
“You know, it doesn’t have to be this thick. You could thin it out, a little bit.”
Amy shook her head. “It’s the easiest way to keep the flies blind. Plus it’s flammable. Extra secure. All I have to do is raise the temperature.”