The dolphins brought them to a marina. The car Dr Sarton had promised was there waiting. It flashed a cheery greeting at them before twitching to one side, exposing the seam between two exoskeletal panels and allowing them to slip through. The car had no driver, and no proper seats or windows, either. From the inside, the whole thing was tinted glass and the plush foam floor pulsed warmly like Dr Sarton's living cushion. Amy felt like Snow White in her very royal, very creepy glass coffin. The car spoke with the same voice as Atsuko: "Please relax and enjoy these towels."
Pieces of the velvety ceiling above them peeled off, instantly hot and yuzu-scented, as though the car itself had a very organic scent gland tucked away for the sole purpose of attracting potential passengers. Javier took the strips of ceiling and handed one to Amy. She squeezed her hair with it and wrapped it around her neck. Then she stretched out. Javier did the same. They were silent as the car started up and rolled away.
"What is it with us and the backs of cars, huh?" he asked, finally.
Amy turned to him. He was already watching her. "Technically, we met in the back of one," she said. "I guess it started a pattern."
Javier rolled onto his side and stared down at her. "Are you OK?"
Amy shook her head softly.
"How are you, then?"
She searched for the right word. "Broken."
He surveyed her. "You're all in one piece as far as I can tell." When she frowned, he said: "OK, bad joke. But you're here. You're alive. You're still Amy. That's good, right?"
"Is it?" She gripped both ends of the towel around her neck, instead of hugging herself. "What if Sarton is right? What if I've always been… flawed?"
"Everybody's flawed."
"But other people's flaws don't kill little kids!" She tried digging herself deeper into the plush of the floor. "This whole thing started out with me thinking I could save my mom. And then I thought I could save Junior. And I thought I could save you, too. I think I can save everybody, and it turns out everybody should be running in the other direction."
"This again?" He tapped the skin between her eyes with a single finger. "You've been living with your crazy old granny for too long. You're starting to believe her bullshit."
It's not bullshit. You're a bad idea for everyone around you.
Amy rolled away so she wouldn't have to face him. "I asked Sarton to get you and Junior a visa, too. You said you'd always wanted to go. But it's OK if you don't want to come with me. Or if you want to split up once we get there. I just thought, since you're on the run anyway–"
"I'll go."
Amy twisted back to look at him. "You will?"
"Sure. Why not?" He stretched out on his back. "I can't believe you remembered that I'd wanted to go there."
"Of course I remembered! It's my failsafe that's faulty, not my memory!"
"Well, you can see how I would be confused, you being so hopelessly flawed and all–"
He jerked away when Amy poked him in the ribs. Then he rolled over and grabbed her wrist with one hand as he tickled her with the other. Amy shrieked. She had forgotten about tickling. She struggled to use her free hand to retaliate, but Javier had a very determined look about him and seemed intent on making her squirm.
"What the hell is going on with this bodysuit thing?" His fingers danced up her sides. "There's no zipper anywhere."
"Why would you need to find the zipper?"
"Please refrain from soiling the vehicle," the car said.
Javier rolled off her. He shut his eyes. "Home, Jeeves."
The car drove them north, into a neighbourhood called Laurelhurst, where the quake damage was less pronounced and where real reconstruction had clearly taken place. The car paused at an ancient-seeming stone fence, complete with ivy and wrought iron gates, blinked its headlights at the gates in sequence, then whispered through as they creaked open.