How many other vN had they done this to? Amy's shell was popular. There were probably more vN with her face and body out there than others. But that didn't mean the clade was the same. The looks were just morphology – totally separate, in her case, from genotype. Amy had told the other kids in class about this when they talked about how chickens came from eggs and plants came from seeds. It was during the spring, and they had gone to a farm to look at baby animals. She had explained to Mrs Pratt about parthenogenesis, and Mrs Pratt had thanked her for that, and then at the end of the day she'd asked Amy not to do that any more, because it was confusing the human kids.
"Do what?" Amy had asked. "Know things?"
Ironically, she found herself listening to a very similar explanation from Dr Singh, one of several humans on the DARPA task force assigned to her and the other vN with her face. His PhD was in synthetic biology. He had obtained it from the University of Washington, and his dissertation was on replicating the parthenogenetic traits of queen bees. He had interned here at Redmond during that time, and had completed major research in the Redmond labs. He had strong ties to this place and its ethics. He had even met LeMarque, once. He told her all this as he removed her gag.
"I won the pool," Dr Singh said. "I get to talk to you, first."
"When can I see my mom?" Amy asked.
Dr Singh blinked. He was very thin but not very tall, with a carefully messy mop of silky black hair. He wore cologne. He looked young. "That's it? No denial? You're Amy Frances Peterson, accept no substitutes?"
"I'm her," Amy said. "You can stop bringing in the others, now."
Dr Singh smiled ruefully. "Sorry, but I'm afraid we have to keep going. We have to make sure the error hasn't replicated elsewhere."
It made sense. Amy had no idea why Portia and her mother had malfunctioned, or how the flaw was passed down. Maybe it had happened to other vN, too. "But doesn't that mean you should be checking all vN?" she asked.
Dr Singh rested one leg on a table behind him. They were in a windowless room with a projector in the ceiling. Old plastic chairs were stacked in one corner, and on the right wall beside the door hung a smart scroll, currently grey and silent. On the left wall hung a large mirror. In it, Amy saw herself cocooned in the Cuddlebug's gleaming web.
"This room used to be for focus groups," Dr Singh said. "That's not really a mirror. We're being watched."
Amy nodded. "Hi," she said to her reflection. She turned back to Dr Singh. "Can I see my mom, now?"
He fiddled with his cuffs. He wore a very nice pink checked shirt, with camel-coloured trousers and navy blue deck shoes. He didn't really look like a scientist – no white lab coat, no goggles, no crazy hair. But he was studying her very carefully, in a way that indicated it was his job to do so, and that he was paid handsomely for it.
"I'm going to be straight with you, Amy," Dr Singh said. "You're never going to get out of here. Neither is your mother. You're both going to spend the rest of your lives here. The sooner you start making the best of that, the better off you'll be."
"Can my dad come and see us?"
He shrugged. "I'll be honest. I don't know. If it's any consolation, I know there are other human partners out there who are trying hard to make that happen. We've gotten mock-ups for what we're jokingly referring to as the Stepford solution. It's sort of like a village. Where mixed couples could go live. But they'd have to sign an agreement… I mean, the surveillance…" He waved one hand dismissively. "That's not my department. We have Legal for that."
Amy nodded. Once, she would have found the challenge of designing a whole neighbourhood for vN and humans to live together interesting. Now, she found it difficult to care about anything so theoretical. "What about Javier?"
"He's being debriefed as we speak. That means he's answering questions about you."
"And Junior?" she asked.
"Junior?"
"The baby."
"The bluescreen? He's fine. He's in the support queue." Dr Singh levered the rest of himself up on the table. He swung his legs. "You haven't asked about yourself, yet."
It was hard to shrug when her arms were so tightly restrained. "Can you take Portia out of me?"
Dr Singh looked at the mirror. "Is Portia listening to us right now?"
"She's always listening."
"Does she want to come out?"
"She always wants to come out."
"And you're burning cycles just keeping her inside?"
Amy nodded. "She's like a background process that takes up a really big footprint."
Dr Singh looked back at her. "Well, Amy, I'm glad you're here. We're going to take good care of you, and we'll see what we can do about your… I don't know what to call it. Condition? Inhabitation?" He smiled and made the sign of the cross in the air. "The power of Christ compels you!"
"I'm an atheist," Amy said.