wrestling for it, pushing and pulling across the cool, wet sand. Javier dug his toes in and jumped. He slammed the other vN up against the bicho . Behind him, he heard Xavier yelp with surprise. He wanted to turn and look, but didn’t.
“Who sent you?” Javier asked.
The other vN tried baring his teeth, but some of them were gone. He pushed hard against the gun like an old guy struggling with a chest press. The hole inside him was growing. Stinging smoke rose between them.
“Aw, fuck it,” the other vN spat, and dropped his grip on the gun. Javier fell forward, landing square on the other guy’s fist. He slumped into the sea monster, briefly tasting iron and fat as he slid down its warm, twitching surface. Jesus. It really was organic.
Then he heard a click behind his head. Then there was nothing.
3: Toma Que Toma
Warm lips on him. His forehead, his cheeks, the tip of his nose, and finally his mouth. Fluttering. Delicate. Uncertain. Amy.
“Hello, gorgeous,” he said.
Her eyes were wet. Behind her head, the sky was beginning to cloud over. The afternoon storm was coming. “Oh, good,” she said. “Good. I was worried.”
“You should see the other guy.” Javier sat up. He felt like he’d been asleep for a week. “Where is the other guy?”
All around them, the others – the pretty K-pop idol vN and his own boys – lay still. So was the worm thing. It had finally quit struggling. Now it looked like some awful fleshy modern art piece left behind on the beach by lazy aestheterrorists. But that didn’t concern him. What concerned him was Xavier and Ignacio and the other boys, their mouths open slack, their hands empty and limbs splayed.
“What happened?” he asked.
“I’ve never done this, before,” Amy said. “But I think everything’s OK.”
He turned to her. “What?”
“I pulsed the island.” Amy stood. She strode over to Xavier, knelt beside him, and picked up his hand. Javier followed. “I mean, it should be fine,” she added. “I looked it up, right before I did it. This is all totally normal.”
Javier took a long look at all the limp bodies around him. The black earth was speckled with the bodies of dead botflies. They glittered there like rough gems scattered by fleeing pirates.
“You EMPd us.” Even saying it tasted wrong.
“It’s OK.” Amy was stroking Xavier’s hair away from his face. As Javier watched, she unbuttoned the top four buttons of his son’s shirt and rebuttoned them, adjusting their order as she went and straightening the shirt. “It’ll be OK.”
Javier moved to his youngest’s side and took Amy’s hands. Her eyes darted up, startled. “You knocked us out, ” he said.
“He was going to shoot you.”
“Oh, so fucking me is taking advantage of my programming, but putting me to sleep like a fucking date rapist , that’s OK?”
Her mouth fell open. “Javier…”
“Amy.” He thumbed the tops of her hands. “This is scary shit, querida . I don’t like it.”
She blinked tears away from her eyes. “Well, I don’t like it when people point guns at you and your kids.”
He swallowed. He made sure she was looking him in the eye. Her eyes were paler in this light. They were wide and hard and completely uncompromising. But when he looked, his home was still in there. This was his match, the one he’d thrown his whole life aside for. They’d seen and done things no one else – synthetic or otherwise – would ever understand.
“Hack me,” he whispered.
She shut her eyes. “I can’t.”
He was going to tell her it wasn’t that she couldn’t, it was that she wouldn’t , but then his youngest shivered into wakefulness and kicked like he wanted to fly away.
“Tranquilo.” Javier rubbed his son’s legs. “No te procupes; esta bien.”
“Mom,” his son said, and sat bolt upright and pressed himself into Amy’s arms. Over his head, Amy sent Javier a surprised glance, and started rocking the boy.
“It’s OK,”
“Who sent you?” Javier asked.
The other vN tried baring his teeth, but some of them were gone. He pushed hard against the gun like an old guy struggling with a chest press. The hole inside him was growing. Stinging smoke rose between them.
“Aw, fuck it,” the other vN spat, and dropped his grip on the gun. Javier fell forward, landing square on the other guy’s fist. He slumped into the sea monster, briefly tasting iron and fat as he slid down its warm, twitching surface. Jesus. It really was organic.
Then he heard a click behind his head. Then there was nothing.
3: Toma Que Toma
Warm lips on him. His forehead, his cheeks, the tip of his nose, and finally his mouth. Fluttering. Delicate. Uncertain. Amy.
“Hello, gorgeous,” he said.
Her eyes were wet. Behind her head, the sky was beginning to cloud over. The afternoon storm was coming. “Oh, good,” she said. “Good. I was worried.”
“You should see the other guy.” Javier sat up. He felt like he’d been asleep for a week. “Where is the other guy?”
All around them, the others – the pretty K-pop idol vN and his own boys – lay still. So was the worm thing. It had finally quit struggling. Now it looked like some awful fleshy modern art piece left behind on the beach by lazy aestheterrorists. But that didn’t concern him. What concerned him was Xavier and Ignacio and the other boys, their mouths open slack, their hands empty and limbs splayed.
“What happened?” he asked.
“I’ve never done this, before,” Amy said. “But I think everything’s OK.”
He turned to her. “What?”
“I pulsed the island.” Amy stood. She strode over to Xavier, knelt beside him, and picked up his hand. Javier followed. “I mean, it should be fine,” she added. “I looked it up, right before I did it. This is all totally normal.”
Javier took a long look at all the limp bodies around him. The black earth was speckled with the bodies of dead botflies. They glittered there like rough gems scattered by fleeing pirates.
“You EMPd us.” Even saying it tasted wrong.
“It’s OK.” Amy was stroking Xavier’s hair away from his face. As Javier watched, she unbuttoned the top four buttons of his son’s shirt and rebuttoned them, adjusting their order as she went and straightening the shirt. “It’ll be OK.”
Javier moved to his youngest’s side and took Amy’s hands. Her eyes darted up, startled. “You knocked us out, ” he said.
“He was going to shoot you.”
“Oh, so fucking me is taking advantage of my programming, but putting me to sleep like a fucking date rapist , that’s OK?”
Her mouth fell open. “Javier…”
“Amy.” He thumbed the tops of her hands. “This is scary shit, querida . I don’t like it.”
She blinked tears away from her eyes. “Well, I don’t like it when people point guns at you and your kids.”
He swallowed. He made sure she was looking him in the eye. Her eyes were paler in this light. They were wide and hard and completely uncompromising. But when he looked, his home was still in there. This was his match, the one he’d thrown his whole life aside for. They’d seen and done things no one else – synthetic or otherwise – would ever understand.
“Hack me,” he whispered.
She shut her eyes. “I can’t.”
He was going to tell her it wasn’t that she couldn’t, it was that she wouldn’t , but then his youngest shivered into wakefulness and kicked like he wanted to fly away.
“Tranquilo.” Javier rubbed his son’s legs. “No te procupes; esta bien.”
“Mom,” his son said, and sat bolt upright and pressed himself into Amy’s arms. Over his head, Amy sent Javier a surprised glance, and started rocking the boy.
“It’s OK,”
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