A wave of Amy's aunts and cousins separated them from the ship's defence turrets, which could still be operated manually if needed. That wave crashed down on them in a single mass of snarling women, teeth bared and fingers clawing as they scrambled over their own sisters' shoulders to be the first to take a bite out of Amy. Amy and Javier took to the air in the same leap. They bounced off old satellite saucers rimed in birdshit before launching themselves at the containers. The aunts jumped and gibbered and screamed at them, their frustration and hunger evident in the way the tide of synthetic bodies swiftly turned under their flying feet to follow them.
Staring down at her clademates, Amy missed her second landing. Her fingers squeaked across the smooth yellow surface of a container as she slipped down between two steel walls. Finally, they dug into its lowest rib. She heard Javier shouting her name. Gritting her teeth, she edged herself along, hoping to find a foothold. Then the ship shivered, and the container slid. To save her fingers from being crushed between two of the huge steel boxes, Amy let herself fall down to the next strata of containers. One aunt waited there for her below. She swung the locking mechanism pried off a container. Rusty but heavy, it left a dirty smear when it entered Amy's ribs.
Screaming, Amy charged that aunt and shoved her. Her aunt's arms spun briefly. Her hands clutched for Amy's hair. Balling a fist, Amy punched her solidly in the stomach. Her aunt fell down toward her sisters at the bottom of the trench. Amy watched as they tore her apart: first her skin and hair and then the limbs, the feet snapping off at the ankle and the fingers popping off one by one, but crammed down open gullets in clusters of two or three. They pulled the carcass in half while she screeched and wailed, not in pain or horror but in anger, frustration, hate.
Amy jumped high above the fray. "That's your legacy."
Competition is beautiful. I have no regrets.
She joined Javier at one of the turrets. Gabriel and Léon were already there. Their fingers flew over the control panel, trying to gain access. "Why is your clade here?" Gabriel asked, barely lifting his eyes from his work.
Only urgency kept the shame out of Amy's voice. "Rory double-crossed us. She brought my aunts here, and she's sending us all right into the belly of the squid."
"I hate to say it," Ignacio said as he landed beside them, "but I told you so."
"Put a lid on it, cabrón."
Amy frowned. "Did any of you grab your little brother on your way here?"
The boys looked at each other. Then they looked at their father. Javier's eyes closed. Beneath their feet, the ship leaned perilously starboard. A bright blue container tumbled off its stack, cartwheeling once in the air before stopping, suspended. It hovered in mid-air, and then it rose, and over the wall of containers Amy saw the slimmest ribbon of gleaming obsidian before the container's ends blew open and its walls crunched together like an empty beer can.
"Madre de Dios," Ignacio whispered.
Amy pushed Javier gently in the direction of his sons. "Get to the lifeboats," she said. "I'll bring Junior back there. I promise."
For the first time, Javier noticed the rough scrape in her side. He touched it, and rubbed her smoke between his fingers. His lips firmed and his shoulders squared. "I'm coming with you–"
"No." Amy pulled one of his curls free from his eyes. "You have to get to the boats with the others."
"The containers have shifted position," Gabriel said. "How will you find him in time?"
"What if Amy's clademates got him, already?" Léon asked. "Dad, they'll rip you to pieces if you go back there."
Amy nodded. "He's right. They will." She tried smiling. "I'll be OK. I brought him back to you once; I can do it again."
"Don't bother!" Gabriel tried standing, but the ship tipped again and he had to catch himself. Gripping the turret's control panel, he pointed at the melee of hungry women and falling cargo. "Either of you! It's futile!" He licked his lips. "We have learned everything we can from that iteration. And if we want there to be any others after him, we have to let this one go."
Javier's face fell. He looked down toward the boats. Amy knew they sat just below the turrets, waiting to be winched up and used. Inside her, Portia rasped and writhed. He's dead weight! Leave! Now!
"Dad?"
Javier blinked and straightened. He turned to face Ignacio, who stood with arms folded. The ship pitched and Ignacio briefly rose above his father. He held the rail loosely for balance, as though it were merely a tree swaying in a storm. His eyes flicked over to the collapsing mess at bow and starboard. "Don't leave him, Dad. Please. Get him out of there."
Javier's face creased into a smile. "I can do that." He turned to Amy. "Let's go."