"So, why is this a big secret?"

Smythe looked at me. "There are more than a dozen other companies trying to get into the uploading business; it's going to be a fifty-trillion-dollar-a-year industry by 2055. They can all do a version of our Mindscan process: they can all copy the pattern of pixels. But, so far, we're the only ones who know that quantum entanglement with the source mind is the key to booting up the copied consciousness. Without linking the minds, at least initially, the duplicate never does anything." He shook his head. "For some reason, though, your mind does reboot when it's shut off."

"I've only blacked out once," I said, "and that was just after the initial boot-up. You can't know that it always happens."

"Yes, we can," said Smythe. "Copies of your mind manage to generate rules for their cellular automata spontaneously, on their own, without being linked to the original. We know, because we've instantiated multiple copies of your mind into artificial bodies here on the moon and down on Earth * and, no matter when we do it, the copies spontaneously boot up. Even if we shut them down, they just boot up again later on their own."

I frowned. "But why should I be different from everyone else in this regard? Why do copies of my mind spontaneously reboot?"

"Honestly?" said Smythe, raising his platinum eyebrows. "I'm not sure. But I think it has to do with the fact that you used to be color-blind. See, consciousness is all about the perception of qualia: things that only exist as constructs in the mind, things like bitterness or peacefulness. Well, colors are one of the most basic qualia. You can take a rose and pull off and isolate the stem, or the thorns, or the petals: they are distinct, actual entities. But you can't pull off the redness, can you? Oh, you can remove it * you can bleach a rose * but you can't pluck the redness out and point to it as a separate thing. Redness, blueness, and so on are mental states * there's no such thing as redness on its own. Well, by accident, we gave your mind access to mental states it had never experienced before. That initially made it unstable. It tried to assimilate these new qualia, and couldn't * so it crashed. That's what happened when Porter first transferred you: it crashed, and you blacked out. But then your consciousness rebooted, on its own, as if striving to make sense of the new qualia, to incorporate them into its worldview."

"It makes you an invaluable test subject, Mr. Sullivan," said Brian Hades. "There's no one else like you."

"There should be no one else like me," I said. "But you keep making copies. And that's not right. I want you to shut off the duplicates of me you've fraudulently produced, destroy the master Mindscan recording, and never make another me again."

"Ora?" said Hades. "You can't even prove they exist."

"You think messing with the biological Jacob Sullivan was hard? Trust me: you don't want to have to deal with the real me."

EPILOGUE.

One hundred and two years later: November 2147 Oh, my God!

"What?"

Oh, my God! Oh, Christa I hadn't heard a voice in my head like this for over a century. I'd thought they were gone for good.

I don't believe this!

"Hello? Hello? Can you hear me?"

I know they said it might be strange, but * buta "But what? Who is this? Jake? Is this another Jake?"

What the * hello? Who's that?

"It's me, Jake Sullivan."

What? I'm Jake Sullivan.

"So am I."

Where are you?

"Lowellville."

Lowellville?

"Yes. You know: the largest settlement on Mars."

Mars? We don't have any settlements on Marsa "Of course we do, for thirty years now. I moved here over a decade ago."

But a oh. Ah. What year is this?

"It's 2147."

Twenty-one forty seven? You're pulling my leg. It's 2045.

"No. You're a century out of date."

But a oh. Really?

"Yes."

Why'd you go to Mars?

"The same reason so many people came to North America from Europe ages ago.

The freedom to practice our own brand of humanity. Mars is a catch-all for those who march to a different drummer. We were being denied our identity down on Earth. We took it all the way to the Supreme Court in the U.S., but lost. And soa"

And so, Mars.

"Exactly. We're in a lovely community here. Lots of multiple marriages, lots of gay marriages, and lots of uploads. Under Martian law * created by those of us who live here, of course * all forms of marriage are legal, and out in the open. There's a family three doors down that consists of a human woman and a male chimpanzee who was genetically modified to have a bigger brain. We play bridge with them once a week."

I shrugged, although there was no way the other me could know I was doing that. "If you can't change the old constitution, go somewhere fresh and write a new one."

Ah. That's a wow. My, that's something, isn't it?

"It is indeed."

I * Mars; wow. But, hey, wait! I'm not on Mars, and yet there's no time lag.

"Yeah, I encountered this before when one of us was on the moon. Whenever a new me boots up, it seems to become quantally entangled with this me; quantum communication is instantaneous, no matter how far apart we are."

And we're very far apart.

"What do you mean?"

Akiko Uchiyama said she was sending me to 47 Ursa Majoris.

"And where's that?"

Ninety light-years from Earth.

"Light-years! What are you talking about?"

She said she was sending me * you know, transmitting a copy of my Mindscan * to one of the worlds they were studying with the big SETI telescope on the moon's farside.

"Jesus. And you agreed?"

They, ah, didn't actually offer me any choice. But that must be where I am. And it's incredible! The sun * the star here * looks gigantic. It covers maybe an eighth of the sky.

"And you think it's still 2045? Is that when you were a were transmitted?"

Yes. But Akiko said she wasn't just sending me; she was also sending instructions for building a robot body for me.

"And are you instantiated in that body?"

Yes. It doesn't look quite right * maybe they had a hard time making some of the parts * and the colors! I have no idea if they're right, but I can see so many colors now! But, yes, I've got a humanoid body. Can't see my own face, of coursea "So there's intelligent life on this other world? What's it look like?"

I haven't seen it yet. I'm in a room that seems to have been grown, like it's made out of coral. But there's a large window, and I can see outside. The giant sun is a color I don't know what to call. And there are clouds that corkscrew up vertically.

And * oh, something's flying by! Not a bird; more like a manta ray. Buta "But no intelligent aliens yet?"

Not yet. They must be here, though. Somebody built this body for me, after all.

"If you really are * my God * ninety light-years away, then the aliens took twelve years to reinstantiate you after receiving the transmission."

It might have taken them that long to figure out how to build the artificial body, or to decide that it was a good idea to resurrect me.

"I suppose."

Can you contact Dr. Smythe? He'll want to knowa "Who?"

Gabriel Smythe.

"That rings a vague bella"

He's with Immortex. The head psychologist, I think.

"Oh, right. Him. If he hasn't uploaded, he must be dead by now; I'll see if I can find out."

Thanks. I'm supposed to try to send a radio signal back; I'll have to ask the natives about that. Proof of concept: Akiko and Smythe wanted to show that human consciousness could be transmitted, that a that ambassadors could be sent to other worlds at the speed of light.

"Are you going to send the radio signal?"

If the natives here * whoever they are * let me, sure. But it'll be ninety years before it'll get back toa what the heck do you call it? Sol system, no?

"I guess. So, tell me: what else can you see?"

Man, this is weirda "Jake?"

Sorry. It's a lot to absorb at once. Connecting with you; full-color vision; where I am; the passage of time.

"What else can you see?"

Vegetation * I guess that's what it is. Like umbrellas turned inside out.

"Yes. And?"

Some vehicle going by, shaped like a pumpkin seed. There's something alive inside, under a transparent canopya "My God! An alien! What's it look like?"

"Dark, bulky, and * damn, it's gone."

"Wow. An actual aliena"

Are you going to tell people? Tell humanity that you're in contact with a distant world?

"I * I don't know. Who would believe me? They'd say it was a hallucination. I've got nothing to show them, and any confirming signal you send won't get here for the better part of a century."

I suppose. Too bad. I've a feeling this is going to get interesting.

"There is one person I can share it all with."

One's better than none. Who?

"Karen Bessarian. You actually met her. She was the old woman we spoke to at the Immortex sales pitch."

That was Karen Bessarian, the writer?

"Yes. And she's still writing. In fact, she's back to writing DinoWorld novels * the characters went public domain thirty years ago, but readers recognize that Karen is their creator, and the books she's doing about them now are selling better than the originals."

Good for her. But what's happening with us? How's the family business?

"Fine. They even brew Old Sully's here on Mars now."

Great! What else? Are we married?

"I am, yes."

Oooh, I know! To Rebecca Chong, right? I knew that eventually*

I smiled. "No, not to Rebecca. She's been dead for over fifty years, and, um, she didn't think much of uploads."

Ah, well, then I guess I don't know who we*

"It's Karen," I said simply. "Karen Bessarian and I are married. The first Mindscans ever to tie the knot."

"Her? But she's so old! I never would have thoughta "Yes, her. But we can talk about that later. Tell me more of what you're seeing."

I must be under some sort of observation; I can't imagine they'd activate me otherwise. But so far, there's no sign of the natives here, except that vehicle that went speeding by the window. The room is big, and it has something that must be a door, but it's almost twice as high as I am.

"Any other clues about the aliens?"