He doesn’t stop scowling at Ayzel. “She made illegal modifications to me before I crossed the Jalama. I’m a lot stronger and freer than any atmech is supposed to be.” He takes in the four silver machines as if for the first time. “Though I see now that my strength is no longer unique. Ayzel, you said you’d stopped playing god. What the hell are these things?” “They are nothing,” she says. “For my own amusement. I make them for myself, to keep my hands busy, but they’re not alive, not like you.” A tear spills down her cheek, stained with mascara. “Oh, my sweet, sweet boy. I wish you’d never
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