An image of Javier's son rippled across the scroll. Javier pointed at it. "Recognize him?" As one, the boys nodded. "That's your second-youngest brother. Had him in San Diego." He turned away from the scroll. His eyes met Amy's. "The human I was with at the time, she gave him to a pedophile in a grocery store parking lot. And I let it happen. Because the failsafe told me she was the more important one."
And you wonder why I grew my girls in basements. You think I kept them caged, but at least they were safe – from the world, and from themselves.
Javier faced Ignacio. "I don't know what happened to you in that prison after I left you there. I simulated it a bunch of times. Tried to do the math. But in the end I left so that I could make your other brothers, and give them a better shot than you had. And I did the same thing with the iteration you see on that scroll. I let him go so I could make that one right there." He pointed to Junior. "I left him, too. But Amy didn't. So if you're angry with me, be angry with me. And if you have a problem with the decisions I made, then make better ones for yourselves. Or try to. If your programming allows it."
Javier's boys examined Amy, then looked away. In her arms, Junior squirmed and tightened his grip. Ricci was the first to look his father in the eye. "We just wanted to be brothers, Dad." He stepped around Ignacio, took Javier by the shoulders, and turned him around to face his twin. "Do you know how many times I would have died without Matteo, Dad? I need him. And if I need him this bad, then maybe the rest of us need each other, too."
Javier hung his head. His shoulders slumped. "I was only doing what my dad taught me, and all his iterations–"
"An iteration isn't a perfect copy, Dad," Matteo said. "It's just the next version."
"Yeah, and this version thinks this whole gilded cage thing is crap." Ignacio tried to wiggle his nose back into place by stretching his upper lip. It didn't work. "I wouldn't want to be on a feed. I hate feeds."
Léon snorted. "Leave it to you to whine about Dad grabbing the brass ring–"
"It's a valid concern, and it merits further thought–"
"Gabriel, I swear to Christ if you intellectualize this whole thing one more time–"
"I don't want to go!"
The others fell silent. In her arms, Junior pulled away to look at Amy. Javier frowned at her. "You don't?"
"No. I don't. Of course I don't. I don't want to be a tourist attraction. I don't want to live inside a zoo. I wore a costume and played nice for the humans at my last job, but at least I got to be myself at the end of my shift. If we go to Mecha, I won't be myself, I'll be a… a product. And so will you."
Javier tilted his head. "Querida. You're acting like I have a choice."
If Sarton is right, then he doesn't.
Amy tried to ignore the truth shivering through her systems. Slowly, she bent and put Junior down. The child looked up at her with huge eyes. Portia was right, and Amy knew it. If Sarton's theories about Amy held any significance, then she was no better than the humans who had victimized Javier his whole life. And even if he enjoyed it at the time, the failsafe limited his choices and his pleasures in a way that Amy had never experienced. It was why he'd abandoned his children so many times, and why he would abandon his youngest yet again to go to Mecha with her. She had a chance to adjust that imbalance, now, in some small way. She could grant him a kind of freedom, imperfect and incomplete – but improved. Perhaps a life exposed on camera was no more liberating than a life hidden in a basement. But a metaphorical cage had to be better than a real one. And Amy was the only one with the ability to choose freely – and in so doing, protect all of them.
"Rory," she heard herself say, "I want you to arrange passage for all of us."
The twins spoke in unison: "What?"
"Everyone goes, or nobody does," Amy said.
The room went quiet. Even the images on the scroll paused briefly. "That won't be easy, Amy. Arranging six more so quickly–"
"Make it happen, Rory. Please." Her eyes found Javier's gaze and held it. "We're not leaving anyone behind, this time."
Another pause. "I'll see what we can do."
"I'll make it easier on you. Dummy up five extra visas, not six." Ignacio crossed the room to stand inches from Amy. He leaned in so close she almost lost her balance. "You may have poached our code, but you don't get to transplant us across the goddamn Pacific without asking, first."
His face, the carbon copy of Javier's in his moments of deepest rage, registered annoyance and surprise when Junior scrambled to his feet and shoved him backward. The boy remained standing, arms folded, his tiny toes gripping the mat beneath. For a moment, Javier's first and latest iterations stared at each other silently. Then Ignacio turned his back to them, shaking his head. "Whatever."
Matteo looked at his twin brother. "What do you think?"