"What do you mean?"

"He told me he wasn't going to issue one."

"How did the topic come up?"

"I asked," said Chandragupta. "When Ms. Bessarian died, I was curious about procedures. Given the unusual location, I mean * on the moon. I asked Dr. Kohl how the paperwork for a death would be handled."

"And what did he say?"

"He said there was no paperwork. He said the whole point of having people like Ms. Bessarian up on the moon was so that they'd be outside of anyone's jurisdiction."

"So there would be no requirement that a death certificate be issued, correct?"

"Correct."

"What about notifying the next of kin?"

"Kohl said they weren't going to do that, either."

"Why not?"

"He said it was part of their agreement with their clients."

Lopez looked meaningfully at the jury, as if Chandragupta had just revealed a heinous conspiracy. She then turned slowly back to him. "How did you feel about that?"

Chandragupta apparently had a habit of stroking his beard; he was doing so now. "It bothered me. It didn't seem right."

"What did you do about this when you returned to Earth?"

"I contacted Tyler Horowitz in Detroit."

"Why?"

"He is Ms. Bessarian's next of kin * her son, in fact."

"Now, let's back up a step. How did you know that the woman who had died on the moon was Karen Bessarian?"

"Firstly, of course, because that was the name all the other doctors referred to her by."

"Any other reasons?"

"Yes. I recognized her."

Lopez had delicate eyebrows, which she lifted now; she'd frosted the outside tips of them with blonde, too. "She was known to you personally?"

Another stroke of the beard. "Not prior to this. But I'd read her books to my kids dozens of times. And I'd seen her on TV often enough."

"You have no doubt in your mind about the identity of the woman who died on the moon?"

At last Chandragupta took his hand away from his face, but only to make an emphatic sweep of it, palm held out. "None at all. It was Karen Bessarian."

"All right. And knowing this, you contacted her son, is that right?"

"Yes."

Lopez lifted her eyebrows again. "Why?"

"I felt he should know. I mean, his mother was dead! A child deserves to know that."

"And so you called him?"

"Yes. It was a sad duty, but certainly not the first time I'd had to do such a thing."

"And did Tyler ask you to do anything?"

"Yes. He requested I issue a death certificate."

"Why?"

"He said he knew that the doctors on the moon wouldn't issue one. He said he wanted to wrap up his mother's affairs."

"And so you agreed?"

"Yes." Hand back on beard again. "It's a duty I've performed before. I had the requisite electronic form stored locally. I filled out a copy, and emailed it to Mr. Horowitz, along with my digital signature."

"Again, how confident are you that the dead woman was Karen Bessarian?"

"One hundred percent."

"And how confident are you that she was, in fact, dead?"

"Also one hundred percent. I saw her stop breathing. I saw her EKG go flat. I saw her EEG go flat. I observed personally that her pupils had exploded."

"Exploded?"

"Dilated to the maximal extent, leaving only the thinnest ring of his visible around them. It is a sure sign of brain death."

Lopez smiled ever so slightly. "Thank you, Dr. Chandragupta. Oh, one more question * your fee. Mr. Draper made much of how much your were paid for this service. Would you care to comment on that?"

"Yes, I would. The fee was Mr. Horowitz's idea; he said I deserved it. Called it 'Good Samaritan' money * his way of saying thank you."

"Did he offer the large fee before or after you agreed to provide a death certificate?"

"After. It was after, of course."

"Thank you," said Lopez. "No further questions."

Deshawn was on his feet. "Redirect, your honor?"

Herrington nodded.

"Dr. Chandragupta," Deshawn said, "what's the normal fee in Maryland for issuing a death certificate?"

"I'd have to look that up."

"Just a ballpark figure, sir. Round it up to the nearest thousand."

"Urn, well, rounded up to the nearest thousand, it would be one."

"One thousand dollars, correct?"

"That is right."

"In fact, are there any forms that doctors in Maryland normally charge more than a thousand dollars to issue?"

"Not that I'm aware of."

"Now," said Deshawn, "are you certain that your discussion with the defendant about a hundred-and-twenty-five-thousand-dollar fee for issuing a death certificate took place after you'd agreed to in fact issue one?"

"Yes." Chandragupta glared defiantly at Deshawn. "That's how I remember it."

I'd thought it strange that Deshawn Draper had started by calling Chandragupta, since the doctor seemed totally on Tyler's side. But I soon saw why: once Chandragupta's testimony was over, Deshawn immediately called for summary judgment, based on the invalidity of the death certificate. Judge Herrington dismissed the jury while motions and countermotions were argued. Deshawn wanted the death certificate thrown out because it was issued by Chandragupta outside the geographic jurisdiction in which he was licensed to practice medicine, and because of the possibility that he'd been bribed to issue it.

Lopez countered with old maritime statutes from Maryland, where Chandragupta was licensed, that said that any doctor could issue a death certificate in international waters when it was impractical, impossible, or against the decedent's wishes to have the body brought to shore; that last allowed for navy personnel to be buried at sea if they died during duty. She also vehemently argued that innuendo did not equal established fact. A lot of minutiae of Michigan and Maryland law were debated, but ultimately Judge Herrington ruled that the death certificate was indeed valid for the narrow purpose of determining the death of the original, biological Karen Bessarian.

23.

Deshawn and Lopez spent the morning arguing more motions; I'd had no idea how much time could be wasted on that. But finally, after lunch, we got down to the main show.

"Please state your name for the record," said the clerk.

Karen was wearing a simple, inexpensive beige suit. "Karen Cynthia Bessarian," she said.

"Be seated."

Karen sat down, and Deshawn got up * almost exactly like a seesaw.

"Hello, Karen," said Deshawn, smiling warmly. "How are you feeling today?"

"Fine, thank you."

"I'm glad," said Deshawn. "I suppose health concerns aren't a major issue for you anymore, are they?"

"No, thank God."

"You sound relieved. Have you had health problems in the past?"

"No more than anyone my age, I suppose," said Karen. "But they're no fun to go through."

"I'm sure, I'm sure," said Deshawn. "I don't want to pry, but might you share a few of them with us?"

"Oh, the usual litany * everything from tonsillitis to a hip replacement." Karen paused. "I suppose the worst thing was my bout with breast cancer."

"My God, that's awful," said Deshawn. "How were you treated?"

"Initially with radiation therapy and drugs. The tumor was destroyed, but, of course, I was still at risk of future tumors. Thankfully, I don't have to worry about that anymore."

"Because you've uploaded into this durable body?"

"No, no. Because I had genetic therapy. I had two of the key genes that predispose a woman to breast cancer. About twenty years ago, I had gene therapy to eliminate those genes from my body. That cut my likelihood of ever having another breast tumor to a very low level."

"I see, I see. Well, I'm delighted to hear that. But let's move on. Karen, have you been outside the U.S. since you became a Mindscan?"

"Yes."

"Where have you been?"

"Canada. Toronto."

"And that means you've crossed over the U.S.-Canada border since uploading, no?"

"Yes, by train going into Canada, and by car going back."

"And have you taken any flights recently?"

"Yes."

"Where from?"

"Toronto's Lester B. Pearson International Airport, to Atlanta, Georgia."

"Why?"

"To attend a funeral."

"Not your own, I hope!" A few jurors laughed.

"No. In fact, the funeral of my first husband, Daron Bessarian."

"Oh, my God," said Deshawn, with appropriate theatricality. "I'm so very sorry to hear that. Still, when crossing the border between * what, Windsor and Detroit? * you had to speak with customs officials, correct?"

"Yes."