I looked at Karen. She looked at me. I doubted either of us could read the other's expression. I turned back to the screen, thinking.

My mother would be happy; she'd never agree to upload herself, of course, not with her belief in souls, but this way she'd have her son back for the remainder of his life.

And my father — well, I wasn't visiting him at all now. Jacob could go back to seeing him, dealing with all the mixed emotions, all the heartbreak, all the guilt. And by the time I returned to Earth, decades hence, my dad would be gone, too. Plus, if flesh-and-blood Jacob returned to Earth, Clamhead would be happy. Even, maybe, Rebecca would be happy.

I opened my artificial lips to reply, but, before I did so. Karen spoke up. "Absolutely not!" she said in that Southern-accented voice of hers. "I've got a life down on Earth, and there's no me left to return to there from here. I've got books I want to write, intellectual property I'm going to have to fight to protect, and places I want to go — and I want Jake with me."

She didn't indicate me in any way, but the simple use of my name as if there was only one entity it could possibly refer to made the other me frown. I let Karen's words hang in the air for a moment, then said into the camera, "You heard the lady.

No deal."

"You don't want to push me," said Jacob.

"No, I don't. But I'm not going to keep talking like this, either. I'm coming over to the moonbus to see you. Face to face." I paused, then, with a nod, added, "Man to man."

"No," said the other me. "I won't let you in."

"Yes, you will," I said. "I know you."

The telescoping Jetway leading to the moonbus was more solid than the ones that connect to airplanes — it had to be air-tight, after all — but the overall appearance was similar. Once I'd reached its end, I was faced with a problem, though. The outer airlock door on the moonbus, set into the moonbus's silvery white hull, had a window in it, and that was uncovered. But the inner door, on the far side of the little chamber, had its own window, and that one was covered. I wasn't quite sure how to let the other me know that I'd arrived.

After standing there for half a minute, with what was doubtless a stupid expression on my face, I decided to simply knock on the outer airlock door, hoping the sound would be conducted within.

At last, the covering on the inner window was removed for a moment, and I saw the white-bearded, round face that I'd learned belonged to Brian Hades, the top Immortex official on the moon. I couldn't hear him, but he spoke to someone — presumably the other me — off to his left, and, a moment later, the outer airlock door clanged open. I stepped in, the outer door closed behind me, and a few seconds later the inner door opened, revealing the flesh-and-blood Jacob Sullivan, with a strange squat gun aimed squarely at where my heart would have been if I'd had one.

"I suppose that's one solution," I said, nodding at the gun. "If you get rid of me, there's no longer an issue about which of us is the real person, is there?"

He hadn't said anything yet, but the gun wavered a bit in his hand. The two hostages — Brian and a white woman — looked on.

"Still," I said, "you attended the Immortex sales conference. You must know that anything fired into my chest wouldn't likely do damage that Dr. Porter and his team couldn't set right. And my skull is titanium reinforced with a carbon-nanotube mesh. It's supposed to survive a fall out of an airplane even if the parachute doesn't open. I'd be mindful of the ricochet if you decide to shoot me in the head."

Jacob continued to look at me, and then, at last, he relaxed his grip on the gun.

"Have a seat," he said.

"Actually," I said, "there's no need for me to sit anymore, since I don't get tired. So I'd prefer to stand."

"Well, I'm going to sit down," he said. He walked down the aisle and took the first of the passenger seats, the one just to the rear of the bulkhead that blocked off the cockpit. He then swiveled the chair around to face me, the gun still in his hand. Brian Hades, who had been looking on anxiously, was sitting in the second-last row, and the female hostage was sitting in another chair, eyes open so wide she looked like an anime character.

"So," I said, "how are we going to resolve this?"

Jacob replied, "You know me as well as I do. I'm not going to give up."

I shrugged a little. "I'm just as determined. And I'm in the right; after all, I'm not taking hostages. What you're doing is wrong. You know that." I paused. "We can all walk away from this. All you have to do is put down the gun."

I saw a hopeful expression pass over the woman's pretty face.

"I intend to put down the gun," Jacob said. "I intend to let these people go — by the way, Jake, meet Brian Hades and … and…"

"You don't even remember my name?" said the woman. "You're ruining my life, and you don't even remember my name?"

I looked at her, and tried to make my face compassionate. "I'm Jake Sullivan," I said.

She didn't reply, and so I prodded: "And you are?"

"Chloe." She glared at Jacob. "Chloe Hansen."

Pleased to meet you didn't seem to be the right response — so I just nodded and turned back to look down on Jacob, seated in his swiveling chair. "Well?" I said.

"Look," Jacob replied, "I know, down deep, that you agree with me. You believe that biological life is more real. Let me have what I want."

I frowned. There was no point denying it. He was right; I had believed that. But that had been before I'd uploaded, before I … yes, damn it, yes: before I fell in love with Karen. I felt more alive with her than I'd ever felt. I looked at Jacob, wondering if I could make him understand that. Of course, he'd — I'd — loved Rebecca, but we hadn't ever allowed that love to blossom, to become a relationship.

"It's different now," I said. "My feelings have changed."

"Then we're at an impasse."

"Are we? You will eventually have to sleep."

He said nothing.

"Besides," I said, taking just the barest hint of a step forward, "I know your every weakness."

He'd been looking down at the floor for a moment — I think he was getting tired — but his head tilted up sharply at that.

"I know your every psychological weakness," I said.

"They're your weaknesses, too."

I nodded slowly. "So you'd think. But you know what I've learned, and you haven't, your poor feckless son of a bitch? I've learned that when you're in love, and someone loves you, you have no weaknesses. It doesn't matter what you've done in the past, it doesn't matter what you've felt in the darkest corners of your mind. Virgil said amor vincit omnia, and he was a pretty bright dead guy: love really does conquer all."

Suddenly, there was a bleeping sound. "What's that?" I asked.

"The videophone," said Jacob, pointing at the wall-mounted unit next to the airlock door. "Answer it."

I went over to the phone, found the answer button, and pressed it.

Smythe's face appeared on the screen. "Sorry to interrupt," he said. "But I think you'll want to hear this, too. There's a call coming in from Earth. It's Deshawn Draper. He says the jury is coming in, and—"

"Not now!" I snapped.

I turned back to Jacob, but I hadn't broken the connection. Smythe should still be able to hear everything, even if his field of view was limited. "There, Jacob, you see?" I said. "You've got my full attention. You're my number-one priority." I took a couple of steps toward him, trying to regain the territory I'd lost when I'd had to come back to answer the phone. "Let's end this peacefully, shall we?"

"Sure," said Jacob. "Just give me what I want."