The future could be changed; they'd discovered that when reality deviated from what had been seen in the first set of visions. Surely, this future could be changed, as well.

Sometime relatively soon a process for immortality — or something damn near to it — would be developed, and Lloyd Simcoe would undergo it. It wouldn't be anything as simple as just capping telomeres, but whatever it was, it would work, at least for hundreds of years. Later, his biological body would be replaced with a more durable robotic one, and he would live long enough to see the Milky Way and Andromeda kiss.

So, all he had to do was find a way to make sure Doreen got the immortality treatment, too — whatever it cost, whatever the selection criteria, he'd make sure his wife was included.

Doubtless there were other people besides himself already alive who would become immortals. He couldn't have been the only one to have a vision; after all, he hadn't been alone at the end.

But, like himself, they were keeping quiet, still trying to sort out what they'd seen. Perhaps someday, all humans would live forever, but of the current generations — of the ones already alive in 2030 — apparently no more than a handful would never know death.

Lloyd would find them. A message on the net, maybe. Nothing so blatant as asking anyone else who had a vision this time out to step forward. No, no — something subtle. Maybe asking all those with an interest in Dyson spheres to get in touch with him. Even those who didn't know what they were seeing at the time they had their visions must have researched the images since their consciousness returned to the present, and the term would have come up in their Web searches.

Yes, he would find them — he would find the other immortals.

Or they would find him.

He'd thought perhaps it had been Michiko that he'd seen on that snow-white plain far in the future.

But then the letter came, inviting him to Toronto. It was a simple email message: "I am the jade man you saw at the end of your vision."

Jade. Of course that's what it was. Not green marble — jade. He'd told no one about that part of his vision. After all, how could he tell Doreen that he'd seen Michiko and not her?

But it wasn't Michiko.

Lloyd flew from Montpelier to Pearson International Airport, and headed down the jetway. It had been an international flight, but Lloyd's Canadian passport got him through customs in short order. A driver was waiting for him just outside the gate, holding a flatsie with the word "SIMCOE" glowing on it. His limousine flew — literally — along the 407 to Yonge Street, and south to the condominium tower atop the bookstore and grocery store and multiplex.

"If you could save only a tiny portion of the human species from death, who would you choose?" said Mr. Cheung to Lloyd, who was now sitting on the orange leather couch in Cheung's living room. "How would you make sure that you'd selected the greatest thinkers, the greatest minds? There are doubtless many ways; for me, I decided to choose Nobel Prize winners. The finest doctors! The preeminent scientists! The best writers! And, yes, the greatest humanitarians — those who had been awarded the peace prize. Of course, anyone could quibble with the Nobel choices in any given year, but by and large the selections are deserving. And so we started approaching Nobel laureates. We did it surreptitiously, of course; can you imagine the public outcry that would ensue if it were known that immortality was possible but it was being withheld from the masses? They would not understand — understand that the process was expensive beyond belief and was likely to remain so for decades to come. Oh, eventually, perhaps, we would find cheaper ways to do it, but at the outset we could afford to treat only a few hundred people."

"Including yourself?"

Cheung shrugged. "I used to live in Hong Kong, Dr. Simcoe, but I left for a reason. I am a capitalist — and capitalists believe that those who do the work should prosper by the sweat of their brows. The immortality process would not exist at all without the billions my companies invested in developing it. Yes, I selected myself for the treatment; that was my right."

"If you're going after Nobel laureates, what about my partner, Theodosios Procopides?"

"Ah, yes. It seemed prudent to administer the process in descending order of age. But, yes, we'll do him next, despite his youth; for joint winners of the Nobel, we're processing all members of the team at the same time." A pause. "I met Theo once before, you know — twenty-one years ago. My original vision had dealt with him, and when he was searching for information about his killer, he came to visit me here."

"I remember; we were in New York together, and he flew up here. He told me about his meeting with you."

"Did he tell you what I said to him? I told him that souls are about life immortal, and that religion is about just rewards. I told him I suspected great things awaited him, and that he would one day receive a great reward. Even then, I suspected the truth; after all, by rights, I should have had no vision — I should have been dead by now, or, at least, not walking unaided at a sprightly pace. Of course, I couldn't be sure that my staff would one day develop an immortality technique, but it was a long-standing interest of mine, and the existence of such a thing would explain the good health I experienced in my vision, despite my advanced age. I wanted to let your friend know, without giving away all my secrets, that if he could survive long enough, the greatest reward of all — unlimited life — would be offered to him." A pause. "Do you see him much?"

"Not anymore."

"Still, I'm glad — more glad than you can know — that his death was prevented."

"If you were worried about that, and you had immortality available, why didn't you give him your treatment prior to the day on which the first visions showed he might die?"

"Our process arrests biological senescence, but it certainly doesn't make you invincible — although, as you doubtless saw in your vision, substitute bodies will eventually address that concern. If we were to invest millions in Theo, and he ended up being shot dead, well, that would be a waste of a very limited resource."

Lloyd considered this. "You mentioned that Theo is younger than me; that's true. I'm an old man."

Cheung laughed. "You're a child! I've got more than thirty years on you."

"I mean," said Lloyd, "if I'd been offered this when I was younger, healthier — "

"Dr. Simcoe, granted you are sixty-six — but you have spent that entire span under the care of increasingly sophisticated modern medicine. I've seen your health records — "

"You've what?"

"Please — I'm dispensing eternal life here; do you seriously think that a few privacy safeguards are a barrier to a person in my position? As I was saying, I have seen your health records: your heart is in excellent shape, your blood pressure is fine, your cholesterol levels are under control. Seriously, Dr. Simcoe, you are in better health now than any twenty-five-year-old born more than a hundred years ago would have been."

"I'm a married man. What about my wife?"

"I'm sorry, Dr. Simcoe. My offer is to you alone."

"But Doreen — "

"Doreen will live out the remainder of a natural life — another twenty-odd years, I imagine. She is being denied nothing; you will be able to spend every year of that with her. At some point, she will pass on. I'm a Christian, Dr. Simcoe — I believe better things await us… well, most of us. I have been ruthless in life and I expect to be judged harshly… which is why I am in no hurry to receive my reward. But your wife — I know much about her, and I suspect her place in heaven is secure."