vN (The Machine Dynasty #1)

In the days that followed, Shari and Mack praised Amy for being such a hard worker. It helped that Amy actually enjoyed some of the jobs. She liked that sudden rush of silence when the back doors slammed shut behind her and the noise of the Sheep died out. She liked letting the trash bags fall for a moment and looking up to catch satellites blinking across the sky. Out here the night was different – quietly alive and smeared with stars. They spilled like icing sugar across dark granite, something she'd have to wipe up inside but which she could marvel at outdoors. This was the best feature of the night shift, she decided – the night. At home in Oakland the sky would be pink or orange, even this late. Not that she would have seen it, anyway. She'd have been too busy designing a ship or a castle or a tank. She'd have seen the night for what it was only in that sliver of time between turning the projector off and climbing into her hammock. Now she appreciated the way the night held her and covered her, how it let her hide inside its cool shadows and fragrant mists. She thought of it as a veil that stretched across her, and Junior, and Javier, and her dad and mom and the others of her clade, the women who shared her face and her code. She wondered how they got by.

This wasn't a bad life. Amy had never thought she would wind up here, but she could see now how other vN did. There was work, and if you were lucky people were nice and they tipped you. And if you were even luckier, you got to go home afterward, and there would be people there, maybe human, and they loved you. That was the luckiest life of all. So you just did what it took to keep it going. Even if it meant humans touching you when you bent over to pick something up.



You're not meant to please these walking sacks of shit, Portia had said the first time that happened. You're meant to scare it out of them.



It wasn't any sense of pride that kept her bussing tables, or folding napkins, or realigning the cakes in the dessert case to their best effect. It was Portia. Amy deliberately ate less to keep herself tired, so that even if Portia punched through, she couldn't get very far. She even started playing a game with the cooks just as her shift ended, where she dipped her hand in beer batter and then again in the deep fryer. When she tugged just right, a glove of perfectly airy crisp breading came off, and her repair mods were busy for hours.



You're fighting a forest fire with a squirt gun, was Portia's only comment.



Amy continued trying to find new ways of blocking Portia out. When she entered the pod each night, she toggled some of Shari's old earbuds to match her downloads on Rick's reader, and she would take Junior out of his bin and they would listen to the news together. They listened for arrests of vN who might be Javier, and for advice on what to do for bluescreen babies. Well, she listened. She couldn't vouch for Junior. But if he was still in there, he was at least well-informed about the world. She speculated with him on the disappearance of the container ships and the sudden rise in network outages ("Maybe it's a sea monster," she told him, and paused for laughter that never came). And at the start of her shifts, she nestled the buds in his ears, left the reader on the charger, and told it to seek out Spanish-language content.



"It's only until payday," she said as she secured the lid that hid him from view. "Then we can leave, and I'll get you some help."



"My daughter's turning two today," the man said, gesturing at the smaller vN. He had a wide, baby-like face dusted with blond hair, and wore sandals with a Hawaiian shirt. He sat with two little vN girls to his table. One looked about ten, the other seven. They were both the same Asian model and wore their hair in cute little pixie cuts that framed their faces perfectly. "We ordered an Opera House, but it seems to be taking a while."

"Let me check into it," Amy said, and returned a moment later with the last slice of opera cake and a crowd of her fellow servers, all of whom sang the Electric Sheep's birthday song:





This cake is for you

This cake is for you

This cake is no lie

And it's just for you.





Everyone applauded, and the youngest vN clapped her hands over her candle to extinguish it. Her father reached over and tousled her hair and pinched her nose. He watched her take her first bite of the cake. When she smiled approvingly, he smiled back, then nodded to Amy. "Could you watch them for a couple of minutes? I have to visit the little boys' room."



Amy checked her podium. No one was waiting. "Sure. I'd be happy to."



The father looked at the girls. "Yui, don't let Rei eat it too fast, OK? I want her to take her time and enjoy it."



The older vN sister nodded dutifully. "All right."



Amy stepped aside to let him pass, then slid into his spot on the banquette. So far during her time at the Sheep, these were the first vN children she had met – the first belonging to customers, at any rate. It was edifying to know that other parents chose to grow their vN slowly, too. It meant her mom and dad's decision wasn't so weird.



"Are you having a nice birthday so far?" Amy asked.



Rei looked at Yui. Yui nodded. "Yes, I am, thank you," Rei said.



"What have you done so far to celebrate?"

Again, Rei looked at Yui. They shared a long look, then Rei said: "I played dress-up, and we made a movie, and then Daddy gave me a bubble bath, and then we came here."



"Who did you dress up as?"



Rei frowned. "I didn't dress up as anybody," she said. "I just wore different clothes."



Amy nodded. "Well, what was your movie about? Can I look it up online?"



Rei smiled. "Yes! Just–" She stopped, looked at Yui, scowled, and resumed eating her cake. "Mom says you wouldn't like it," she muttered.



Amy looked between the two girls. "Did you say something?"



Yui promptly pulled the plate of cake away. She looked up at Amy. "We come from a networked model."



Like Rory, Portia whispered. I bet they're on that special diet just like you were.



"We're trying to teach her not to use our cladenet to keep secrets, but it's very difficult. She's only two."



"And growing like a weed."

Madeline Ashby's books