“Ordering arterioplasty and fluorhemotransfusion,” the computer noted. The waldos appeared again with sections of surgical silicone rubber.

“Did I make it in time?”

“Yes. Very low possibility of brain damage.”

Baker nodded and looked at his thumbs. Sticky redness covered them. He shuddered.

Has everybody got a death wish here? First Kinney, then me, then Delia, then this… this… “Clone, did you say?”

“Yes,” the computer answered. “It would not be a Circus without clones.” The unit emitted an unintelligible string of noise that sounded like a short circuit.

“Why clone her?” Baker demanded to know.

“The original Delia stabbed herself to death. Both Virgil and she possess an unhealthy obsession with death. Violent, messy death.”

“Who wouldn’t, after all we’ve been through? When will she be healed?”

“Anti-shock sequence is near completion. Accelerated recovery should take twelve hours for healing by second intention. The laser cut away a good deal of flesh-granular scar tissue has to fill the gap.”

Baker nodded. “When can I have her out and back to normal?”

“She will be functioning nominally tomorrow.”

“Good. I want to wash up and rest. Where can I sleep nearby?”

“The recovery room.”

Floating in the white padded room, Baker frowned at the accumulation of transfusion bags and cleaning articles. He shoved them into a cabinet and floated against the hatch, one arm through a cloth loop.

I don’t dare fall asleep. He might come back. I’m the weak one in that sense. But I’ve got the drive. Kinney’s just a crazy suicider.

So was I, though, yet he never died.

Neither did I. Except that my body’s been ground up and recycled. Hell with it. It’s done. I’m alive and I’ve got to stay that way. Kinney might get us both killed.

His eyes eased shut against his will.

The cockpit’s gone white and I’m surrounded by the soft glow of light from all around. The instruments guide me through but then they seize and I don’t know which way to turn because I’m not in control…

He fell asleep, and fell dreaming.

“Take her out of electrosleep.” The top of the boxdoc hinged open. Two rosy scars the diameter of a one auro coin marked her thighs. Her lips were a warm pink, though, and her eyes clear and focused when they opened. She grasped her head.

“Steady,” Baker said. “Just take it easy. Watch your wrists, now.” With one motion, he fastened a makeshift pair of manacles on her, locking them on just enough for her not to wriggle free.

“What’re these? You bastard!”

“You’re going to cure me. Suppress Kinney for good.”

“No!” She struggled violently, then suddenly began crying, “Jord, I can’t. Not just because she won’t let me.”

“Then why not?”

“Because-” she winced as though stricken. “Because I can’t choose between you… and Virgil.”

Baker stared at her for a moment, then swung his hand to slap her across the face. “You bitch! We were lovers-”

“I rebuilt him from a madman. I created the one chance we have at reaching the stars. I need him back. Mankind needs Virgil Gris-”

“You scheming-” he slapped her again, making darker the scarlet palm print on her face.

She smiled. “Do it again, you. She hates it.”

“You stay out of this!” He slapped her a third time. “You’re going to help me bury Kinney because I can make you die and rebuild you as many times as I want. You can kill yourself but I’ll grind you to a mush like they ground me and-and-and-” He howled and shook her by the shoulders, her black hair swirling about them. “Fix me, bitch, or you’ll die a thousand times!”

“And if I do? Then we’ll die anyway! Nobody can handle the Valliardi Transfer without going insane. Virgil’s our only hope to get back to Earth. We’re close enough to loop around the sun on engine-”

“We are orbiting Tau Ceti,” the computer said.

“Why aren’t you stopping him?” she screamed at the wall.

“You can always be cloned again-”

She screamed. Baker twisted her hair until her screams turned to plaintive sobs.

“Stop it! I’ll do it, just stop. Please. Just stop. Please. Then her voice hardened. “No. Keep it up. Kill her. Kill yourself. Blow the anti-matter pods and kill Tau Ceti. Kill everything!”

“Stop, you goddamned seesaw bitch! Dee”-he shook her again-“you’ve got to do it. For me. For us. I promise it’ll be straight. Everything, I promise.”

“Just stop it, please stop it…”

“I will. I promise.” He pulled his arms tightly around her to hold her close to him. “I promise.”

Subdued lighting glowed indirectly from one portion of the room. Following Delia’s instructions, Baker arranged instruments, monitors and drug trays next to the sudahyde-upholstered table in the psychometric bay. He had strapped down to the table and lay watching Delia float above him.

“The computer’ll be watching your every motion,” he warned. “And it can comprehend what goes on in all three fields of vision.”

She nodded and secured a tray of testing devices, her manacles scraping against the plastic counter. She relaxed and looked at him.

“Jordan Baker.” She paused, waiting, then asked, “Are you Jordan Baker?”

“Yes.”

“And you’ve always preferred to be called Jord.”

He shifted restlessly. “Dee-”

“Just go along with me.”

“Yes. Jordan’s a name of a river, not a man. It means ‘the descender.’ A man should climb, fly higher, never drop, never fall, never… die.”

“Do you think you’re actually dead?”

Baker tensed, then said, “I’ve wondered whether this is some crazy hell where I keep coming back for more, for eternal punishment. I mean, if we don’t have to die in this world, then it can be an eternal heaven or hell as we choose.”

“Yes. As you choose. Why did you choose to jump from your flyer?”

He shut his mouth and turned his head away.

“Ten ccs DuoTorp Alpha,” she said. The drug dispenser filled a hypodermic gun with the proper drug and fired it into his arm. He grew limp at once and his eyelids, forced shut, relaxed into the mask of calm settling on his face.

“Why did you jump?”

His speech came slowly. “Transfer did it. I died there, and they were all ready to take me in. I would have been… so happy. And then they were gone and I was adrift and then… and then it happened again. Coming back. And I was wrenched free. I wanted to join them.”

“Who?”

“Dad and Crystal. I hadn’t seen them. In years. Since they died. And I wanted to join them.”

“So you felt cheated.”

“Yes.”

“Yet you don’t want to die now.”

“I do! It’s just that… I’ve got to be sure!”

“Of what?”

“Be sure that I’m not just shunted in the back of Kinney’s mind and forgotten. Just filed away and everything that’s left of me will disappear like-like chalk pictures in rain. Would I go down that corridor then? Or would I just evaporate?”

She reached over with both hands and wiped the tears from his eyes. “What are you?”

“Now?” He wept. “A liter of squeezings swirling around the body of another man who’s in there with me. I can feel him there, like a fist, like a shadow around a corner, ready, watching and I’m nothing. Nothing but a lattice of electrical fields, switched on and off like a light bulb. Not a body. Not a brain. Just something light can shine right through as if through a ghost.”

“You’re something, though.” She pondered for a moment, then asked, “What color was your schoolscrim in second grade?”

“Yellow with a blue touch-border.”

“Something remembered that. Someone. Regardless of what your thoughts and memories are stored in, you still have a mind. You’re simply using someone else’s brain in which to integrate your persona, your essence. You’re alive. You are Jord Baker.” Cuffed hands stroked his brow.