home.
Amy rested her forehead against the tree. Rain-wet wind reached up the back of her shirt. The tree swayed. She wanted to go home. She wanted the special vN cocoa from the coffee shop nearest her building, the kind she and her mom drank on winter days from specially coloured cups so the humans wouldn't get confused. She wanted her mom to know where she was. She wanted this to be over.
"When do you think we can climb down?" she asked.
Javier said, "Not for a while. The cute blond one just handed out more coffee."
"I don't see him with any coffee."
"I meant the girl."
Amy squinted. "How can you even tell who's cute and who isn't, from up here? It's dark ."
"I saw them earlier, remember? Oh, there she is. She just stood up. Her shoes keep coming untied."
"Oh, the one who keeps bending over!"
"Well, uh–"
"She should just get Velcro shoes. That's what people who don't know how to tie their shoes yet wear."
"…Right. Anyway. They're digging in. We're up here for a while, I think." The bough beneath Javier creaked slightly as he shifted. "And I saw that guy's teeth, earlier. They're a total loss. He's got, like, this one, and it totally sticks out all funny."
"Maybe he can't afford injectables," Amy said.
"Humans are programmed obsolescence, all the way. It's a little sad." His bough creaked again. "They're cute, though. That makes them kinda useful, for a while."
"Ewww…"
"Hey, it worked for your mom. She found herself a nice slice of meat, right? You're a big girl now, and if those chimps down there can do anything, it's–"
"Not listening, la la la –"
"I could put in a good word for you with Officer Snaggletooth–"
"Shut up! You're gross ." She shuddered. "I don't like him."
"Oh, yeah, sure. You're a total ice queen now, but wait till you're in front of him and your failsafe takes over. He'll have you playing Hide-the-Baton all night long." Javier poked the first finger of his left hand into a circle made by his right thumb and forefinger, in and out, in and out.
Amy turned away. "You're disgusting. I'm not like that."
"Yeah, right. Tell it to your OS. You've got a failsafe like everybody else."
Do you? Do you really?
Of course she did. Amy's mom hadn't spent much time on the subject, but she had said that von Neumann-type humanoids were "allergic" to hurting humans, or to seeing them get hurt. She'd said that's what love meant: the inability to see the other person get hurt without losing a part of your mind, the desire to do anything and everything to keep it from happening. And all vN everywhere felt that way about humans, whether they lived together or not. It was part of New Eden's plan – to leave God's unwanted children with people who could really love and protect them. But when Amy's granny killed Nate, she hadn't suddenly fallen down dead. Nor had Amy. Amy had looked at Nate's body – the limp and twisted heap of it, rumpled like dirty clothes – and had not recoiled.
"Is the failsafe the same for everyone?" she asked. "Every model, everywhere?"
"What, doesn't it feel that way for you?" Javier asked. "I can't help it. I love humans. They're adorable. Like those little dogs with the wrinkly faces." He grinned, then tilted his head a little when she didn't smile back. "Anyway. Every time we iterate, we copy the failsafe. That's why we get to roam free."
Not any more, though. Things are different, now.
Amy blinked hard. She looked down at Javier. "You sound like you give that speech a lot."
"Yeah, well, my kids had better know the score." Javier paused, licked his thumb, and wiped something away from his son's face. "Isn't that right, Junior?"
Amy smiled. "Are you really going to call him that?"
"All my boys are named Junior."
"Just Junior? No other name?"
Javier slowly extricated his finger from his son's fist. "I'm never with them long enough," he
Amy rested her forehead against the tree. Rain-wet wind reached up the back of her shirt. The tree swayed. She wanted to go home. She wanted the special vN cocoa from the coffee shop nearest her building, the kind she and her mom drank on winter days from specially coloured cups so the humans wouldn't get confused. She wanted her mom to know where she was. She wanted this to be over.
"When do you think we can climb down?" she asked.
Javier said, "Not for a while. The cute blond one just handed out more coffee."
"I don't see him with any coffee."
"I meant the girl."
Amy squinted. "How can you even tell who's cute and who isn't, from up here? It's dark ."
"I saw them earlier, remember? Oh, there she is. She just stood up. Her shoes keep coming untied."
"Oh, the one who keeps bending over!"
"Well, uh–"
"She should just get Velcro shoes. That's what people who don't know how to tie their shoes yet wear."
"…Right. Anyway. They're digging in. We're up here for a while, I think." The bough beneath Javier creaked slightly as he shifted. "And I saw that guy's teeth, earlier. They're a total loss. He's got, like, this one, and it totally sticks out all funny."
"Maybe he can't afford injectables," Amy said.
"Humans are programmed obsolescence, all the way. It's a little sad." His bough creaked again. "They're cute, though. That makes them kinda useful, for a while."
"Ewww…"
"Hey, it worked for your mom. She found herself a nice slice of meat, right? You're a big girl now, and if those chimps down there can do anything, it's–"
"Not listening, la la la –"
"I could put in a good word for you with Officer Snaggletooth–"
"Shut up! You're gross ." She shuddered. "I don't like him."
"Oh, yeah, sure. You're a total ice queen now, but wait till you're in front of him and your failsafe takes over. He'll have you playing Hide-the-Baton all night long." Javier poked the first finger of his left hand into a circle made by his right thumb and forefinger, in and out, in and out.
Amy turned away. "You're disgusting. I'm not like that."
"Yeah, right. Tell it to your OS. You've got a failsafe like everybody else."
Do you? Do you really?
Of course she did. Amy's mom hadn't spent much time on the subject, but she had said that von Neumann-type humanoids were "allergic" to hurting humans, or to seeing them get hurt. She'd said that's what love meant: the inability to see the other person get hurt without losing a part of your mind, the desire to do anything and everything to keep it from happening. And all vN everywhere felt that way about humans, whether they lived together or not. It was part of New Eden's plan – to leave God's unwanted children with people who could really love and protect them. But when Amy's granny killed Nate, she hadn't suddenly fallen down dead. Nor had Amy. Amy had looked at Nate's body – the limp and twisted heap of it, rumpled like dirty clothes – and had not recoiled.
"Is the failsafe the same for everyone?" she asked. "Every model, everywhere?"
"What, doesn't it feel that way for you?" Javier asked. "I can't help it. I love humans. They're adorable. Like those little dogs with the wrinkly faces." He grinned, then tilted his head a little when she didn't smile back. "Anyway. Every time we iterate, we copy the failsafe. That's why we get to roam free."
Not any more, though. Things are different, now.
Amy blinked hard. She looked down at Javier. "You sound like you give that speech a lot."
"Yeah, well, my kids had better know the score." Javier paused, licked his thumb, and wiped something away from his son's face. "Isn't that right, Junior?"
Amy smiled. "Are you really going to call him that?"
"All my boys are named Junior."
"Just Junior? No other name?"
Javier slowly extricated his finger from his son's fist. "I'm never with them long enough," he
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