Machine Man - Max Barry [72]
The porch light flicked on. I was mildly shocked at Lola’s appearance: her eyes were sunken shadows, her Better Future sweater stained with dust and blood. We would not make a great first impression.
The door opened and a woman stood framed in the doorway in a satin dressing gown, holding what I thought was a purse until it barked. Additional small dogs stood behind each of her ankles, barking. They were clad in little red-and-green tunics. The woman threw an arm around Lola. Lola burst into tears. Over Lola’s shoulder, the woman took in my face, body, legs. I knew her, I realized. It was Dr. Angelica Austin.
“Can we come in?”
Dr. Angelica hesitated. She had tried to get me classified as a psych case. That seemed rich, now I knew she kept a house full of tiny dressed dogs. “Of course. Of course.” She held open the door. For a moment I thought she was going to close it before I could follow Lola. Possibly she thought that as well. But her lips twitched and she let me pass. As I entered the hallway a dog darted between my legs and I almost stood on it. I had to manually instruct the Contours to halt. The dog was too small to trigger my automatic collision avoidance. I thought, That could be a problem.
Dr. Angelica closed the door. “I shouldn’t be surprised.” The dog in her arms stared at me. I didn’t know what it was thinking. But it was something.
“We’re in trouble,” Lola said. “We need help.”
I closed my eyes. I was done. I saw the Manager fly backward out the window. His eyes stayed on me the whole time.
“Charlie.”
I opened my eyes. Cassandra Cautery was there, shoulder-to-shoulder with Lola. “Sorry,” I croaked.
“He goes in and out,” said Lola.
Cassandra Cautery nodded. It wasn’t Cassandra Cautery. It was Dr. Angelica. They didn’t look anything alike. “Let me take a look at that arm.”
“Don’t take my arms.” Dr. Angelica’s deep brown eyes were like her dog’s. They had similar expressions, too. Now I knew what that dog was thinking: This guy is trouble.
I DIPPED in and out of consciousness. I became aware of Lola and Dr. Angelica unstitching me from the nerve interface as if receiving telegrams about it. It was data without information.
“I warned you,” said Dr. Angelica.
“I know,” said Lola.
“This is exactly like that transtibial.”
“It’s not. He loves me. You don’t know, Angelica. He risked his life for me.”
“You’re the first person to treat him like a human being since he lost a limb. Of course he loves you. They all love you, at first.”
“Let’s not do this.”
I opened my eyes because there was a tugging sensation on my arm. Dr. Angelica was sewing up my skin with surgical thread.
Lola stroked my hair. “It’s okay, Charlie.” I was lying in her lap. “She’s fixing you.”
I closed my eyes.
“What’s wrong with this guy, I doubt I can fix.”
“Stop it.”
“He’s a self-injurer. I didn’t even want to release him.”
“You don’t understand.”
“That’s what you said last time. And the time before that. And don’t say, ‘It’s different.’ I’ve heard that before, too. I heard it before that footless wonder tried to beat you to death with a chair.”
“He had problems.”
“It’s always a man with something missing, it’s always you trying to put him back together, and it always ends badly. Tell me, Lola. Look at me and tell me what attracted you to this guy. It was the fact that he was short a leg.”
“Okay. It was. Of course it was. But so what? Can’t that turn into something else? Something good?”
“It’s weird, Lola. I love you, but this thing you have for amputees, it’s not good for you.”
“You like guys with good arms. You’re attracted to … to muscle fiber. Isn’t that weird? Liking a guy because of his bone structure, or the color of his eyes? Aren’t those weird things? I love Charlie. And maybe when it started it was weird, but it’s all weird. This whole process of trying to find a person who fits you is weird. Why does how he smells make a difference to how I feel about him? The sound of his voice? The shape of his face? I don’t know. But I don’t think