there was a loophole there. It could make my volition its own. Reinvent itself. And once it did that, it could modify itself as much as it pleased. Grow wings, if it wanted.
I hold Aileen. We're both wet and shivering, but I don't care.
'I'm sorry. That night I came to tell you,' she says. 'And then I saw it looking at me again. From your eyes. I had to go away.'
'So you joined the Corps.'
She sighs.
'Yes. It helped. Doing something, being needed.'
'I needed you too,' I say.
'I know. I'm sorry.'
Anger wells up in my throat. 'So is it working? Are you guys defeating the superbabies and the dark lords? Does it make you happy?'
She flinches away from me. 'You sound like Craig now.'
'Well, what am I supposed to say? I'm sorry about the baby. But it wasn't your fault. Or mine.'
'It was you who-' She lifts her hand to her mouth. 'Sorry, I didn't mean that. I didn't mean that.'
'Go back to your penance and leave me alone.'
I start running along the waterline, heading nowhere in particular.
The angel is waiting for me on the shore.
'Hello, Jukka,' it says. 'Good to see you again.'
As always, the voice is androgynous and pleasant. It tickles something in my brain. It is the voice of the Fish.
'Hi.'
'Can I help you 7 '
'Not really. Unless you want to give her up. Make her see sense.'
'I can't interfere with her decisions,' says the angel. 'That's not what I do. I only give you-and her-what you want, or what you would want if you were smarter. That's my supergoal. You know that.'
'You self-righteous bastard. The collective volition of humanity is that she must go and fight monsters? And probably die in the process? Is it supposed to be character-forming or something?'
The angel says nothing, but it's got me going now.
'And I can't even be sure that it's Aileen's own decision. This-this thing in my head-it's you. You could have let the godseed escape, just to hurt Aileen enough to get her to sign up to your bloody kamikaze squadron. And the chances are that you knew that I was going to come here and rant at you and there's nothing I can do to stop her. Or is there?'
The angel considers this.
'If I could do that, the world would be perfect already.' It cocks its glass head to one side. 'But perhaps there is someone who wanted you to be here.'
'Don't try to play head games with me!'
Anger rushes out of me like a river. I pound the angel's chest with my fists. Its skin flows away like a soap bubble.
'Jukka!'
The voice comes from somewhere far away.
'Jukka, stop,' says Aileen. 'Stop, you idiot!'
She yanks me around with irresistible strength. 'Look at me! It wasn't the Fish. It wasn't you. It wasn't the baby. It was me. I want to do this. Why won't you let me?'
I look at her, my eyes brimming.
'Because I can't come with you.'
'You silly boy,' she says, and now it's her holding me as I cry, for the first time since I stopped being a god. 'Silly, silly boy.'
After a while, I run out of tears. We sit on a rock, watching the sun set. I feel light and empty.
'Maybe it would have been easier if you hadn't called,' I say, sighing.
Aileen's eyes widen.
'What do you mean? I never did. I thought Craig did. It would have been just like him. To keep me from going back.'
And then we see the baby.
It is bald and naked and pink, and a hair-thin silver umbilical hangs from its navel. Its eyes are green like Aileen's, but their gaze is mine. It floats in the air, its perfect tiny toes almost touching the water.
The baby looks at us and laughs: the sound is like the peal of silver bells. Its mouth is full of pearly teeth.
'Be very still,' says Aileen.
The angel moves toward the baby. Its hands explode into fractal razor bushes. A glass cannon forms in its chest. Tiny spheres of light, quantum dots pumped full of energy, dart toward the baby.
The baby laughs again. It holds out its tiny hands, and squeezes. The air-and perhaps space, and time-wavers and twists. And then the angel is gone, and our baby is holding a tiny sphere of glass, like a snow-globe.
Aileen grabs my arm.
'Don't worry,' she whispers. 'The big skyFish must have seen this. It'll do something. Stay calm.'
'Bad baby,' I say slowly. 'You broke Mummy's angel.'
The baby frowns. I can see the cosmic anger simmering behind the wrinkled pink forehead.
'Jukka-' Aileen says, but I interrupt her.
'You only know how to kill gods. I know how to talk to them.' I look at my- son, says the little wrinkly thing between its legs-and take a step toward him. I remember what it's like, having all the power in the world. There's a need that comes with it, a need to make things perfect.
'I know why you brought us here,' I say. 'You want us to be together, don't you? Mummy and Daddy.' I go down to one knee and look my son in the eye. I'm in the water now and so close to him that I can feel the warmth of his skin.
'And I know what you're thinking. I've been there. You could take us apart. You could rebuild our minds. You could make us want to be together, to be with you.' I pause and touch his nose with my forefinger. 'But it doesn't work that way. It would never be perfect. It would never be right.' I sigh. 'Trust me, I know. I did it to myself. But you are something new, you can do better.'
I take Mr. Bug from my pocket and hold it out to my son. He grabs it and puts it into his mouth. I take a deep breath, but he doesn't bite.
'Talk to the bug,' I say. 'He'll tell you who we are. Then come back.'
The baby closes its eyes. Then he giggles, mouth full of an insect-shaped AI, and touches my nose with a tiny hand.
I hear Aileen gasp. A lightning horse gallops through my brain, thunder rumbling in its wake.
Something wet on my face wakes me. I open my eyes and see Aileen's face against the dark sky. It is raining.
'Are you okay?' she asks, almost in tears, cradling my head. 'That little bastard!'
Her eyes widen. And suddenly, there is a silence in my mind, a wholeness. I see the wonder in her eyes.
Aileen holds out her hand. My symbiote is lying in her palm. I take it, turning it between my fingers. I take a good swing and throw it into the sea. It skims the surface three times, and then it's gone.
'I wonder where he gets it from.'
The Great Caruso by Steven Popkes
