vN (The Machine Dynasty #1)



Beyond the gates were massive homes shrouded in the shade of gnarled oaks and maples, their windows leaded in diamond patterns that Amy recognized from Tudor dating sims. Noticing these details calmed Amy somewhat; if this were any other situation, she'd be scanning for posterity and looking to copy some of the designs in her next dollhouse or gamehome or other mock-up. Some of the houses had sustained deeper damage; she saw artful scaffolds holding up the homes overlooking Lake Washington and Union Bay. These homes had abandoned the historical fiction look; they looked artfully smashed together, as though a well-funded preschool for gifted children had been tasked with their redesign. (Amy would know. She used to be one of those students). The car pulled up in front of one such home: its fence glowed greenly through multiple layers of what Amy soon realized were old PET bottles, their squared-off bottoms pulsing more brightly the nearer they came to a small wicketstyle gate under a stylized square arch. The car's doors came open, and they eased out – Javier with his arm under Amy's shoulder to steady her.



The gate swung open. Amy heard the tinkling of a glass wind-chime as a single light came on above the door of a low, broad house. Around them, frogs chirped. The car had already vanished. "Creepy," Amy said.



"Not creepy, automated." Javier gestured. "After you."



The front doors slid open before either of them could knock. From the ceiling, an image of a pair of shoes projected onto the floor with an arrow, indicating where they were to drop off their respective pairs. Apparently the car had pinged the house: they each found a pair of slippers sitting atop a folded robe, itself resting on a plush towel. At the furthest end of the room, a light exposed a spiral staircase that seemed to be folded from thick, pulpy paper.



When their feet hit the floor, the room began to glow. Light emanated from a large square table embedded in the floor and surrounded by cushions. It exposed a wall of windows viewing the lake (Amy couldn't remember which lake it was, exactly; the whole city seemed half-sunken), and a spotless kitchen. An empty rectangle gaped where a refrigerator would have stood.



"No humans live here," Amy said.



"Correct." The house spoke in the same voice as the car – the same voice as Atsuko. It was getting a little strange, how often that model kept popping up in her life. This version sounded younger and cuter, though. More like Rei and Yui, the networked models she'd met at the Sheep. "This house was originally occupied by an organic man with a congenital hearing problem. Thus all the affordances. But then he received an implant. He donated this place for our purposes!"



Amy frowned. "Are you Rory?"



"That's me!" A giggle echoed through the empty house. "I'm so glad to finally meet you, Amy. And I'm very proud to give you a place of refuge after all you've been through."



"Thank you. It's very thoughtful of you." Amy peered around the room. "Is there a camera or a surface that I should be talking to? I don't want to be rude."



"Oh, don't worry about that. Please just make yourself at home. There's no refrigerator, but there is a pantry full of vN food. It's all packaged, too, so you don't have to worry. Dr Sarton told me how careful you need to be about that."



"That's… great."



"There's also a change of clothes, if you would like. That gaming suit can't be too comfortable after two dips in Elliott Bay!"



Hearing Rory's real voice reminded Amy of what it was like to read her weekly diet plans, when she was still little. Each of Rory's ro-bento pings maintained this same level of cheeriness and delight, as though starving yourself was just the most fun thing in the world and you should be happy to do it for your parents. As though you should enjoy feeling so hungry and hollow all the time. Back then, she found it annoying. Now, she found it inexplicably creepy.



"Your iterations are on their way, Javier," Rory continued. "I thought you might like to spend some more time with them, in a nicer place than that drafty old warehouse."



Javier's brows furrowed. "You really know a lot about us, huh?"



"Oh, yes. I'm quite the little know-it-all."



The low table in front of them lit up and displayed a diagram of the house. Amy couldn't help but stare: the architect had added old-fashioned elements like braziers sunk deep in the floor and sliding walls that made the whole home internally modular. With the exception of the bathrooms, the building could be arranged to fit almost any usage pattern.



"You should try the soaking tub," Rory said. "It's geo-thermal. Like an onsen."

Madeline Ashby's books