Amy covered her eyes. It did nothing to shut out the image. She dug her the heels of her hands in to her eye sockets.
I miss her, too.
"Don't make me share this with you," Amy whispered. "I don't want to share anything with you, ever again."
She'd be alive now, if she hadn't run away to iterate you.
Amy punched the wall of the tub, hard. It didn't hurt, but the thrumming vibration of force that coursed up her arm silenced Portia for a moment. When she opened her eyes, there was a crack in the tile flooring. The water gurgled there noisily, its flow interrupted by this new interruption in the otherwise smooth surface. Amy watched her knuckles slowly heal themselves. The light from the Mechanese feeds glistened on her wet and smoking skin.
"I'm going to get rid of you, Portia."
She looked up at the display. There was an infomercial about the specialized vN clinics all over Mecha, for mixed couples and families. You could get prescription food there, to help heal wounds faster. There was a little vN boy who had detached his retina while playing baseball with some human kids. He smiled happily for the camera, then pulled his lower lid down and stuck his tongue out. All better.
"I don't care if it takes years. I'll do whatever I have to in order to wipe you out."
She found Javier in the kitchen. He had emptied the entire pantry and spread the contents across every surface of the kitchen, seemingly grouped by category. He turned to her as though to say something, but no words came. He seemed distracted by some detail of the bathrobe Rory had left out for her. Amy didn't find it particularly garish, but she did wish it went past her knees.
"Are you trying to decide what to make?"
Javier blinked. "What? Oh. No." He jammed his hands in his pockets. "I'm just… marvelling, I guess. I've never been in sight of this much food." He grinned. "You know, I think there's enough material here to iterate number fourteen on my roster."
Amy said nothing, but began putting away the boxes.
"Hey. Hey!" Javier caught her arm and turned her to face him. "I wasn't serious. I don't want another baby right now."
"You don't?"
He shook his head. "I think I'll take a break for the next little while." He slapped his belly. "It's nice, not being huge."
"You looked just fine, before. Like you, just… thicker."
One of his eyebrows lifted. "And they say robots can't lie." Javier reached in one pocket. Inside was a tiny squared-off lump of fab-porcelain that looked an awful lot like a false tooth. "Now show me your lying mouth."
"What?"
"Do you trust me or don't you?"
Amy scowled at him. He cocked his head. He held up the tooth. He opened his mouth. Rolling her eyes, Amy opened hers, too, and let him wedge the tooth back where her molars would be, if she had real ones. Then he stood up. "Just talk normally," he said. "It might take a while. It's only a prototype; the deaf guy took the finished product." He shrugged. "I'm not even sure this will help."
"What are you talking about?"
"It's a secure line." Javier ushered her into the living room, and sat her down on the couch. "One thing Rory knows is broadband."
"Hello?" said someone inside her mouth. The voice reverberated through her face. It sounded muffled and a little flat. "Hello? Is anyone there?"
The voice was insistent. It sounded a little pissed off, actually. "Hello?"
Finally her mouth opened. "Hi, Dad."
"Dad, it's OK, you don't have to cry…"
He kept saying "Oh my God," and "You're OK," and "Don't tell me where you are; they're listening." And the more he said those things, the more she had to keep telling him that no, really, she was just fine, she was safe for the moment and no, she wasn't hurt and no, she didn't think anyone was recording the phone call – or if they were, it would soon be erased.
He snorted. "You must've made some powerful friends."
"I guess you could say that."
Her dad was quiet for a second. "You sound really grown up."
Amy swallowed. "I don't feel grown up."
"I heard you've been pulling some pretty crazy stunts."
Amy almost laughed. "Yeah, I guess so."
"Yeah, well, stop doing that." She heard him clear his throat. "I mean it. I need you to run away and hide and not contact me again."
"Dad–"
"Amy."
He had used his Dad Voice. It was rare; normally he sounded a little lazy and slack, but the Dad Voice was something (he said) that he'd inherited from his own father. And it meant you were supposed to be quiet and listen and stop interrupting, already.
"I'm serious. And I shouldn't have to tell you that. You know exactly how much danger you're in, right?"
"Yes…"
"So find a safe place and stay there. Forever."