Her tone was infinitely gentle. "Jake, have you ever heard of assisted writing? Or Ouija boards? Or false-memory syndrome? The human mind can convince itself that all sorts of things have external reality, or are coming from somewhere else, when it's really doing them itself."

"That's not what's happening here."

"Isn't it? Have these * these voices said anything to you that you didn't already know? Anything that you couldn't already know, but that we could check on to see if it's true?"

"Well, no, of course not. The other instantiations are being held in isolation somewhere."

"Why would that be? And why aren't I detecting anything similar?"

I shrugged my shoulders a bit. "I don't know."

"You should ask Dr. Porter about it."

"No," I said. "And don't you speak to him about it either * not until I've figured out what's going on."

At 10:00 a.m. the next morning, Maria Lopez faced Karen, who had returned to the witness stand.

"Good morning, Ms. Bessarian."

"Good morning," said Karen.

"Did you have a pleasant * a pleasant interregnum since our last session in court?" asked Lopez.

"Yes."

"What, may I ask, did you do?"

Deshawn spoke up. "Objection, your honor! Relevance."

"A little latitude your honor," said Lopez.

"Very well," said Herrington. "Ms. Bessarian, you'll answer the question."

"Well, let's see. I read, I watched a movie, I wrote part of a new novel, I surfed the Web. I went for a nice walk."

"Very good. Very good. Anything else?"

"All sorts of insignificant things. I'm really not sure what you're driving at, Ms. Lopez."

"Well, then, let me ask you directly: did you sleep?"

"No."

"You didn't sleep. So, it's safe to say, you didn't dream, either, isn't that right?"

"Obviously."

"Why didn't you sleep?"

"My artificial body doesn't require it."

"But could you sleep, if you wanted to?"

"I * I'm not sure why one would desire sleeping if it wasn't necessary."

"You're begging the question. Can you go to sleep?"

Karen was quiet for a few moments, then: "No. Apparently not."

"You haven't slept at all since you were reinstantiated in this form, correct?"

"That is correct, yes."

"And, therefore, you haven't dreamed, right?"

"I have not."

Deshawn was on his feet. "Your honor, this is hardly proper cross."

"Sorry," said Lopez. "Just a few pleasantries to start the day." She picked up a large paper book from her table and rose to her feet. "We've been discussing your physical parameters, Ms. Bessarian. Let's start with a simple one. Your age."

"I'm eighty-five."

"And your date of birth?"

"May twenty-ninth, 1960."

"And how were you born?"

"I * I beg your pardon?"

"Was it a normal birth? A cesarean section? Or some other procedure?"

"A normal birth, at least by the standards of the time. My mother was given heavy anesthetic, labor was induced, and my father wasn't allowed in the delivery room."

Karen looked directly at the jury box, wanting to score a point right off the bat.

"We've come a long way since then."

"A normal birth," said Lopez. "Through the dilated birth canal, out into the light of day, a gentle slap on the bottom * I imagine that was still in vogue back then."

"Yes, I believe so."

"A first cry."

"Yes."

"And, of course, a severing of the umbilical cord."

"That's right."

"The umbilical cord, through which nutrients had been passed from your mother into the developing embryo, correct?"

"Yes."

"A cord whose removal leaves a scar, something we call the navel, no?"

"That's correct."

"And those scars come in two forms * commonly called innies and outies, isn't that right?"

"Yes."

"And which kind do you have, Ms. Bessarian?"

"Objection!" said Deshawn. "Relevance!"

"Mr. Draper raised the question of biometrics," said Lopez, spreading her arms.

"Surely I'm allowed to explore all her biometrics, not just the ones that Mr. Draper can do parlor tricks with."

The judge's shoehorn face bobbed up and down. "Overruled."

"Ms. Bessarian," said Lopez, "which is it * and innie or an outie?"

"An innie."

"May we see it?"

"No."

"And why not?"

Karen held her head up high. "Because it would be pointless, and * as I'm sure the judge would agree * hardly befitting the dignity of this court. You're hoping I have no belly button at all, so that you can make some facile point. But, of course I do; my body is anatomically correct. And so, with my belly exposed, you'd fall back on trying to make some lesser point about how my navel isn't really made of scar tissue but rather is just a sculpted indentation. Let me save you the bother: I concede that indeed it is sculpted. But given that navels don't do anything, that's hardly significant.

Mine is as good as anyone else's." She looked directly at the jury box again, and smiled a winning smile. "It even collects lint."

The jurors, and even the judge, laughed. "Move along," said Herrington.

"Very well," said Lopez, sounding somewhat chastened. "Your honor, may I introduce the defendant's first exhibit, a hardcopy of the operating manual for the transaction terminal Mr. Draper introduced earlier?"

"Mr. Draper?" asked Judge Herrington.

"No objection."

"The exhibit is admitted," said the judge.

"Thank you," said Lopez. She crossed the well, approached the witness stand, and handed the manual to Karen. "As you can see, I've bookmarked a certain page.

Would you open the manual to that page?'

Karen did so.

"And will you read the highlighted passage?" asked Lopez.

Karen cleared her throat * a mechanically unnecessary bit of theater, then: " 'This scanner uses biometric data to ensure the security of transactions. Both a fingerprint scan and a retinal scan are performed to verify the identity of the user. No two human beings have identical fingerprints, nor do any two individuals share the same retinal patterns. By measuring physical characteristics of both, the security of the transaction is assured.' So you see*"

"Sounds impressive, doesn't it?" said Lopez.

"Yes. And the point is that the terminal did *"

"Forgive me, Ms. Bessarian, you can only reply to the questions I pose." Lopez paused. "No, I'm sorry, I don't wish to be rude. You had a comment you wanted to add?"

"Well, just that the scanner did recognize me as Karen Bessarian."

"Yes, it did. In key biometric areas, you are apparently identical * or at least as close as is necessary * to the original Karen Bessarian."

"That's right."

"Now, if it pleases the court, I'd like to try something. Your honor, defendant's exhibits two, three, and four. Number two is an artificial hand, and number three is an artificial eyeball, both * as, number four, the certificate of provenance, attests * produced by Morrell Gimbel of Dusseldorf, a leading manufacturer of prosthetic body parts. Indeed, Morrell is the company Immortex employs to make many of the replacement components it uses."

There were about fifteen minutes of objections and arguments before the judge accepted the exhibits. Finally, we were back on track, and Lopez handed the artificial hand to Karen. "Would you please press the artificial hand's thumb against the terminal's scanning plate?"

Karen reluctantly did so. One green light went on * I used to hate using those things, because I could never tell if the light was green or red.

She then handed Karen the artificial eyeball. "And would you hold this up to the terminal's lens?"

Karen did that, too, and a second green LED came to life.

"Now, Ms. Bessarian, would you be so kind as to read to the court what the display says?" She held out the device.

Karen looked at it. "Ita"

"Yes, Ms. Bessarian?"

"It says, 'Identity confirmed: Bessarian, Karen C.' "

"Thank you, Ms. Bessarian." She took the device out of Karen's limp hand and tapped some keys with slow deliberation. When she was done, she handed the device back to Karen. "Now, I'd like you to do for me what you did for Mr. Draper: transfer ten dollars into my own bank account. Of course, to do that, we'll need your PIN number."

Karen frowned. "It's just a PIN," she said.

Lopez looked momentarily confused. "Sorry?"

"PIN stands for 'Personal Identification Number.' Only people who work for the Department of Redundancy Department call it a PIN number."

Judge Herrington's little mouth smiled at this.

"Fine," said Lopez. "What we need now is your PIN, so that we can complete the transaction."