Javier shook his head. “No. You’re seeing things.”
“I’m not.” Powell held out a reader. On it, the lionesses sat in their circle, blinking. As they did, subtitles appeared beneath: S-O-O-N.
“That could mean anything,” Javier said. “Maybe Amy’s just testing something out.”
“Or maybe she quarantined her psychotic grandmother in those animals, and that’s why they attacked me,” Powell said. “Maybe she split Portia into a bunch of pieces, and they’re trying to come back together.”
“So what if they are? We buried that crazy bitch once; we can do it again.”
“Can you?” Powell stepped closer. “You saw what she was like, last night. She has no respect – no empathy – for human beings. She doesn’t care what happens to us, Javier.”
What was it Amy had said? That she didn’t need to wait for human approval? But that wasn’t the same as not caring. She had a human father, after all. Who she hadn’t seen in months. But Jack was still a meaningful connection to the human world. And she did fine with Tyler and Simone. She and the island did regular business with the seasteaders without any issues.
“Just because she doesn’t like you doesn’t make her a psychopath.”
“She tried to bury me alive last night.”
“I know. I remember. She thought you raped me.”
“But I didn’t, Javier. I could have, but I didn’t.”
There it was. Javier heard it in the little catch of Powell’s voice. That boyish little crack. He hadn’t fucked Javier, no. But he’d wanted to. He’d been on the cusp of it. Something had held him back.
“Well, gold star, preacherman. You didn’t failsafe me into fucking you.” Javier raised his hands and started clapping, slowly. “What a gentleman.”
Powell’s face went totally blank and slack. They were having a real argument, now. “She killed that puppet.”
“The puppet was never really alive. It wasn’t really a human being.”
“Would that have made a difference?”
Powell was up close to him, now. Javier could see the grey in the grizzle sprouting from his chin. He had good skin, tightly-curled eyelashes, a face that said it used to smile.
“You’re trying to sell me something,” Javier said. “What is it?”
“I can bring her back.” Powell withdrew something from his pocket. It was a bar of vN chocolate. A popular brand. “Amy has a flaw in her immune system,” he said. “She is what she eats.”
“I know that already.”
Powell nodded. “This is an add-on to the stemware. She will internalize it if she eats it.”
“What?”
“It’s an add-on,” Powell said, like that meant something. “It will modify her from the inside. She’ll be able to feel pain.”
Javier stepped away. “Pain?”
“Real pain. Organic pain. Like humans feel.” He tried to close the gap between the two of them. “You want to know why I’m really here? This is why. I’m here to give this to Amy. I’m here to poison her.”
Javier scowled. “And you’re telling me this why?”
“Because you’re the only one she trusts. You’re the only one who can give it to her.”
Javier stared at the bar. He was going to ask who Powell was working for, really, who had made this awful thing, and how it was coded or printed or whatever, but the question he settled on was: “Why would I want the woman I love to feel pain?”
Powell shut his eyes. He looked to be mastering himself, summoning patience from some interior reserve. “The pain isn’t constant. She’ll just react the way humans react.”
Javier arched one eyebrow in a way that he knew communicated deep skepticism. “So, she could failsafe me? If I saw this happen to her?”
Powell growled. “This is bigger than you and your pretend marriage!” He pulled something from his pocket. “Do you know what this is? Of course you don’t. It’s a Geiger counter. And the reason it’s making that noise is because this island is full of fissile material.”
Javier threw up his hands. “Oh, come on.” He started walking toward the house. “Now you’re just making shit up.”
“I’m not. The movement of these islands isn’t random, Javier. It never was. It maps over to the sites of sunken submarines, and sunken nukes.” Powell jogged to catch up to him, and unfolded his reader again. The map was there, in overlay. The dots scattered across it pulsed regularly. Red circles like bullseyes spread out from each of them. It all looked very menacing.
“You could have designed that,” Javier said. “You could have designed this whole thing as part of some fucked-up con job. You could be lying to me, right now.”
“But I’m not.” Powell positioned himself directly in front of Javier. “I’m not. She needs a check. She needs vulnerability. She’s playing out her own personal Heart of Darkness out here, and–”
“Her own what?”