"How about Bangor?" offered Omad, sheepishly.

"Bangor? Bangor, Maine? Fuck you, Omad. Stay in the asteroid belt, you cheap bastard. At least you could have offered me Havana."

Omad looked confused.

"The one in Cuba?" Justin almost pleaded.

"Where's Cuba?"

"Jesus Christ, what happened to Cuba?"

Omad started laughing. "Oh, man, Justin. I just love doing that shit to you."

"You son of a ..."

When Justin got back to his new house he was surprised to see the flyer of some unexpected visitors in the driveway. The car hovering by the guesthouse belonged to Mosh and Eleanor. He entered through the front sunroom and immediately heard voices coming from the library. He went in to find Neela, Mosh, and Eleanor sitting on opposite sides of the plush leather couch, obviously having an enjoyable conversation together.

"So Gil's back working for me, and Dr. Wang has her own practice."

Neela laughed out loud. "Who would have thought? To listen to them go on for years about what they planned to do ..."

"Well," continued Mosh with a wan smile, "the nosedive their stock prices took really ..."

He looked up as Justin entered the room. "Justin, glad to see you're looking well. We were just catching Neela up on some old workmates."

Justin sat by Neela. "You two are always welcome."

Eleanor got up and gave Justin a peck on the cheek. Mosh stayed decidedly put on the couch. "We found out about what happened to Neela and came by to offer her help."

"You can stop her transfer?" Justin asked, with a glimmer of hope, knowing full well he'd piss off Neela, who'd already made her feelings about the matter quite clear.

"Wish I could. Even made some calls to see if I could get her back at Boulder. Had to use favors to get that far. But there's no way, Justin. They ain't budging."

"Why not?" he asked. "You used to be an important figure at GCI."

"Used to. Not anymore. Besides, if they respected The Chairman before, they worship the ground he walks on now. Him and his damned apostle, Hektor Sambianco. The Chairman proposed this plan, and the board will do his will."

"Who is is this guy that he can mess with my life with impunity?" this guy that he can mess with my life with impunity?"

Mosh sighed. "Justin, The Chairman is the most savvy, cunning, and capable corporate mover I have ever seen. He understands the incorporated world better than any person alive. He started out as a penny and rocketed his way to the top. Me, personally? Didn't like him much. He was superficially friendly enough, but he'd crush anyone and anything that got in his way. That's the reason I got out. I may have been able to get the Chairmanship of GCI, but I didn't want it as badly as he did. I'm good at the corporate game, Justin. But I would've been 'Mosh McKenzie,' Chairman of GCI. I never would have been 'The Chairman.' "

"That still doesn't explain why he's going after me."

"Justin," Mosh explained, "in his mind, he's not going after you, you're going after him. You're disrupting the system that he's mastered. You're screwing with his whole universe. And have done so, I might add, while escaping every attempt of GCI's to have you incorporated. And because of all that the whole solar system is up in arms. I'd venture to say that you're probably the first person I've ever met to truly scare the guy."

"But I'm not not going after him. I mean, for goodness' sakes, I didn't start this, going after him. I mean, for goodness' sakes, I didn't start this, he he did." did."

Mosh sighed. "Justin, I respect what you've done, really, I do. But that's a load of horse crap."

Justin gave a weary smile. "OK, Mosh, I guess you deserve a turn, too. Everyone else seems to have gotten one. So go ahead, tell me what an evil man I'm being."

"Justin," he answered, weariness evident in his voice, "you're not evil. The truth is, I think you're absolutely remarkable. But you are a little selfish, a tad hypocritical, and, I suspect, a little scared. At least, that's why I believe you're refusing to incorporate. You have this notion of who and what you are, and somehow you think it's incompatible with our way of doing things. So you say, 'Leave me alone and I'll leave you alone.' But it can't work like that. You damned well know the effect that you're having on the universe. And if you don't you're blind, an idiot, or both."

Justin didn't interrupt. He knew very well the effect he was having on the system. He'd just been hard-pressed to believe that he'd been the root cause of it all.

"You're a threat," continued Mosh, "and I've wished to Damsah I could hate you for it, but I can't. I actually hope The Chairman succeeds, because I honestly believe you must incorporate, if not for your sake, then for ours. You'll give up nothing you ever really had and gain everything a man could ever want."

Justin sat silently, openly holding Neela's hand.

"I'm sorry," said Mosh, "maybe I said too much. Your life, your choice." He then got up to leave.

"Mosh," said Justin, insisting his old friend sit down, "you have every right to speak your mind. Maybe you don't consider yourself my friend, but you and Eleanor have been companions of sorts, and certainly true friends of Neela's. That counts for a lot."

"Yeah," interrupted Neela. "Besides, someone has to talk to my mule-headed friend here besides me." She still couldn't get the nerve up to say "companion" or "boyfriend," but all present knew what she meant.

Mosh chose to ignore the inference. He was still a bit steamed that the courtship had taken place with one of his employees-felt it reflected badly on his judgment. But he was also old enough to know that there was no accounting for love. And even he had to admit that the circumstances under which the affair occurred were far from normal.

"I do have some good news for you," he said, pressing on. "I made some inquiries and have arranged for you to work under an old friend of mine, Hildegard Rhunsfeld. She's capable and owes me. You'll be well looked after, Neela. I'll also arrange to visit the research lab from time to time. Just to be sure."

"That must be half a lifetime's worth of favors you're calling in. Mosh, you really don't have to do all that."

"Oh yes, he does," insisted Eleanor.

Mosh managed a smirk. "Besides, if I didn't," he said looking over at his wife, "she'd kill me."

"And," said Eleanor, smiling triumphantly, "it just so happens that right about the time you're going to be transferred, we're going on vacation!"

As to why this piece of information was relevant, Justin had no idea.

"We've decided to spend some of our hard-earned wages on renting a private yacht, dear," continued Eleanor. "We're finally going to take that grand tour of the solar system-with you. We'll be more than happy to drop you off at your destination."

The look of genuine surprise on Neela's face was enough to coax an ear-to-ear grin out of the curmudgeonly director.

"Mosh, Eleanor, that's too much," insisted Neela. "It must be costing you a fortune!"

"Already prepaid. Besides," Mosh answered, with a slight twinkle in his eye, "you really don't want to say no to Eleanor. Trust me, I've tried. One way or another she gets what she wants, and she wants you to join us ... as do I, of course."

Justin reached out and shook Mosh's reluctant hand. "Yes, yes. She'll go."

Neela offered no resistance. The idea was appealing. It would give her time to clear her head.

"Thank you, thank you," said Justin, giving Eleanor a bear hug, "I owe you both so much."

"I'm not doing it for you, son," Mosh said, admonishing Justin. "But if you mean that, I'd consider the favor paid in full if you'd just honestly think about what I've said today."

"I can't lie to you, Mosh," Justin said. "The idea of incorporating has nothing to do with Hektor, The Chairman, GCI, or the government. It has to do with who I am fundamentally."

"I know that, Justin," answered Mosh. "But don't forget, we're all along for the ride. And don't discount The Chairman. You haven't really faced him, you know. Just his underlings and his opening moves orchestrated through those underlings. Eventually he'll come after you directly, and with greater strength. There's simply too much at stake for him not to. Plus, he's now more powerful than ever and won't stop until you're incorporated." Mosh chuckled. "I'm sorry. Here I am sounding like I should be in a spy holo. We'll leave you two now. You only have a little time left, and the last thing you need to hear is the blathering of an old man."

They didn't object. Mosh and Eleanor took their leave and bid Justin good luck. As the medical director's flyer took off into the clear blue sky, Justin waved. One by one, they were all saying good-bye.

The weeks passed far too quickly. Between running the Liberty Party, showing up at rallies, and having to deal with an almost constant and unrelenting attack on his assets, Justin and Neela found precious little time for one another. Perhaps it had been a good excuse to begin the process of letting go, he wondered. It was almost easier not to meet than to spend every waking moment together-an impossibility anyway, given the societal memes, their celebrity, and the striking breadth of their new responsibilities.

Before he knew it, Justin found himself standing with Neela at the Interstellar Marina in Oahu, Hawaii, where Mosh and Eleanor had rented a yacht for the run around the solar system. It was located near Pearl Harbor, and was about five miles west of Honolulu. The grand vessel's living quarters, noticed Justin on inspection, were well appointed. They had over three thousand square feet to play with, and they used it efficiently, with guest rooms, viewing areas, and luxury appointments throughout.

Neela and Justin had barely said a word to one another on the way to the marina, preferring instead to hold each other's hand in a tight embrace. They'd made love one last time, shared a bottle of wine-one last time. Snuggled together-one last time.

And now they stood facing one another at the departure dock, oblivious to the foot traffic, noise, and general goings-on of the space-faring port. Mosh and Eleanor were already on the boat, waiting patiently.

Justin held Neela's hands in his. "Neela ..."

"You can stop this," she said. Her voice was plaintive.

"We've already been through that, Neela," he answered, this time with just a hint of desperation. He was feeling her need for him, sensing her desire to stay. "I can't, my love," he added, "please forgive me. I wish to God that I could, but the price is too high."

Neela managed a forlorn smile. She'd been outbid. The only man in the universe whom she could connect to, share a life with, laugh knowingly with ... the only man she would ever want had been spoken for.

Her drawn eyes stared out in pained acceptance.

"Of all the beliefs you had to bring with you from before the Grand Collapse," she implored, "you couldn't have believed in some sort of 'ism'?" She didn't wait for an answer. "That would have been fine," she continued, wiping away the driblets that had formed near her eyes. "Any one of them would have been fine ... so ... so many isms." Her voice trailed off.

Is she having a breakdown? wondered Justin. wondered Justin.

"Or," she continued, "it could have been ... religion, Damsah knows we're lacking in that department ... the Buddha ... yes ... yes, the Buddha would have been fine ... would've worked for us. Oh, Justin," she said, small rivulets now beginning to stream down her face, "you could've built temples ... temples to us." Her voice was wistful, lost. She paused to gather her breath and wipe away the tears.

And then Neela's face, which up until that point had been an amalgam of emotion, suddenly became a singly focused beacon of clarity. Justin was so taken aback by the swift transformation that he was tempted to step back.

"But you," she said tenderly, "you had to believe in an ill-conceived principle that never worked in your time and doesn't work in ours. You, Justin Cord, Mr. Unincorporated Man ... Mr. One Free Man ... had to believe in an ill-conceived principle that never worked in your time and doesn't work in ours. You, Justin Cord, Mr. Unincorporated Man ... Mr. One Free Man ... you had to believe in freedom you had to believe in freedom."

With that she stepped out into the float field and was lifted up onto the ship. Justin waited for her to turn around-a last look-but she never did.

On a planet of well over twenty billion souls, Justin Cord was now truly alone.

14 Temptation

Be not afraid of greatness:Some are born great.Some achieve greatness,And some have greatness thrust upon them.WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, TWELFTH NIGHT TWELFTH NIGHT (ACT II, SCENE 5) (ACT II, SCENE 5) Unemployment at 10 percent. Hundreds of millions are now living on their savings, having used up their unemployment insurance. How long the unemployed can do that is a matter of personal circumstance. Those who were saving for a big stock purchase will be able to hold out for a couple more months. Those who had just made one are already being forced to sell their homes and find other places to live.Calls for the Unincorporated Man to be forcibly incorporated were put forth by the Society to Preserve Society. The new group was formed out of business organizations, civic groups, and various parent associations, and is funded solely by small donations. Mr. Cord was not available for comment.-ISN BROADCAST

Justin returned to San Francisco, and for a while attempted to get lost in the hubbub of work. But even with a steady swarm of humanity around him, the office seemed a cold and lonely place haunted by memories. He was giving serious thought to following Mosh into the wilds of space. He'd rent a yacht and tour the solar system. Maybe even visit the moons of Jupiter, fly by the rings of Saturn, or climb Olympus Mons on Mars-a shield volcano nearly fifteen miles high and over three hundred miles wide at its base. Such were the experiences that awaited Justin in this brave new world. He could even take up the 70 percent sports, activities considered so dangerous that only those with an ironclad majority could engage in them: Storm surfing on Jupiter came to mind. He'd always wanted to learn how to surf.

Justin figured that he should talk with Dr. Gillette again, but even the good doctor hadn't been returning his calls. Probably GCI'd like the rest of them Probably GCI'd like the rest of them, he thought dourly to himself.

When sebastian finally did beep, Justin assumed his avatar was going to patch him through to the good doctor. After all, he'd been the only one Justin had tried to contact.

"Tell the good doctor ..."

"It's not Dr. Gillette, Justin," interrupted sebastian.

Great, thought Justin. Now, even my damned avatar's being rude Now, even my damned avatar's being rude.

"Actually," continued sebastian, "it's not even someone on your approved list, but I think you may want to take the call."

"Who is it?"

"Agnes Goldstein."

It took Justin a moment to realize whom sebastian was referring to. In the rush of events he'd completely forgotten about the chipper 25 percenter Omad had introduced him to at the postMardi Gras get-together. But he sure was glad that she'd called.

"By all means, sebastian, put her on."

Per Justin's standing order, the communication was in voice only.

"Agnes," he said with a slight lift in his voice, "it's good to hear from you again. How are you?"

"I wish I could tell you 'fine,' Mr. Cord. But I can't."

Justin feared that yet another victim had been infected with his "association" disease-associate with Cord, get audited. But he knew, especially with regards to Agnes, that he'd been so very careful to cover his tracks.

"What is it, dear?"

"I'm sorry to bother you, but I didn't know who else to call. It's about the gift you gave me. I ... I think I may be in trouble."

"Is this immediate trouble, Agnes? I can arrange for you to stay in a safe place if need be."

"I don't think it's like that." She paused in thought. "God, I hope not."

Justin made an instant decision. "Agnes, are you home?"

"Yes, Mr. Cord. I am. All the time, actually. I lost my job, and I haven't been able to find another."

Justin sighed. "I'm on my way, Agnes, and will you please call me Justin?"