_______.

In retrospect, Justin should have realized things were a bit off when he got to Agnes's neighborhood. It was downright picturesque. He was in a low-class neighborhood that was empty. There were no children playing. No flyers with people coming and going. In a part of town that should have had massive unemployment, there was no one home. And it was also only later that he'd realized that there were no mediabots-not very common when it came to lower-class neighborhoods but extremely common when it came to him. He'd started calling them flies, because, no matter where he went, they always seemed to be able to find him. But not today. Not a one.

In his beeline to Agnes's he failed to notice the anomalies and walked blindly up to her front door. He was about to knock, but the door opened automatically at his approach. He looked around to see if anyone was on the other end of it, and when no one apparently was, he stepped inside the foyer.

"Agnes?" he called out.

He heard the distinct and very identifiable pop of a beverage can being opened. It was one of those sounds that had not changed at all in the centuries that had passed. He headed toward the direction of the noise.

"Agnes," he said, walking toward the sound, "I came as soon as I could. Are you ...?" Justin stopped in his tracks. Sitting at the island in the middle of the large kitchen was the one and only man Justin Cord had truly hated. Not even the treachery that his old assistant, Sebastian Blancano, had perpetrated roused the feelings of anger that Justin felt for the man currently occupying center stage in the kitchen.

"Hi, Justin," greeted Hektor Sambianco, holding up a can. "Beer?"

Hektor seemed completely relaxed in a pair of board shorts, sandals, and an oversized Hawaiian-print shirt.

Without saying a word Justin turned and headed for the door.

"Justin, five minutes is all I ask," Hektor called out.

"Fuck you," answered Justin, without breaking his stride. He had one foot out the door when Hektor lobbed his missile.

"Leave," he yelled from the kitchen, "and Agnes never gets majority. Hell, she might not even get out of jail."

Justin stopped, clenched his fists, and whirled around. "You really are a son of a bitch."

Hektor came out of the kitchen and stood staring at his foe in the doorway. "Yes, Justin, but I'm the son of a bitch who has gone through great effort to arrange this meeting." Hektor left Justin and calmly walked into the living room. "Five minutes," Hektor shouted from the room. "That's all I ask."

Justin stood in the doorway for another moment, knowing he had no choice. He marched back down the hallway and entered the living room, where Hektor had made himself comfortable in a big, overstuffed recliner. He was still sipping his beer. "Sure you don't want one?" Hektor asked, holding up the can. "It's a Hacker-Pschorr Munich. Your favorite, right?"

"How did you clear the street?" asked Justin, dispensing with the small talk.

"Easy," smiled Hektor. "We offered everyone three times what their houses were worth with half up front. The other half being paid if and only if they left immediately for one day. This day. After that GCI closed off this bit of private property. Truth is, we'll sell them back to them at market price ... if they still want them. Congratulations, Justin, there's at least one small part of this planet that's damned glad you came to visit."

"And not one person said no?" he asked suspiciously.

"In this economy? They couldn't leave fast enough. Well, actually," he said, "that's not entirely true. There was one person who said no. Why, it was Ms. Goldstein. We even quadrupled the price this place was worth, but the lady wouldn't budge. Go figure. You do encourage loyalty, I'll give you that, Justin."

"So you had her arrested?"

"Justin, Justin, she wouldn't leave. After she made the call we knew we only had about a half hour to an hour before you'd be here. We had to buy the block, clear everyone out, and arrange a privacy zone. We were, shall we say, pressed for time?"

"So you had her arrested?" Justin repeated.

"Yes."

"On what charges? If you don't mind my asking."

"Oh, not at all. Trumped-up ones, to be sure. We implicated her in terrorist activity with the Action Wing."

Justin shook his head in disgust. "You're a real piece of work."

"Thanks. I try."

"If she made the call for you, how come she wouldn't sell you the house? Or I suppose you just seized it."

"Justin, Justin, she didn't make the call for us. I had her communications tapped. I also had anyone who came in contact with you put under low-level observation and, where feasible, stock options taken out. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that 20 percent of Ms. Goldstein's shares were already being optioned out. No way to know who it was, but it smelled of you. I took a small gamble and bought out the rest of her shares."

"I still don't see how this puts us here," he answered sternly.

Hektor gulped down the rest of his beer and crushed the can on his knee. "We had her under observation. She tried to access her account and found that none of her stocks were for sale. She called you, and we moved."

"You were in New York. How did you beat me here by a half hour?"

"In that, Justin, I got lucky. I was surfing off Half Moon Bay when she called you. I was here in five minutes, and got the buyout going soon after that. Luckily there were no emergency situations, and I got what I wanted. The chance to talk privately."

"Not yet."

"You're here, aren't you?"

"I am. But you don't get your five minutes unless you agree to my terms first."

"And they are?" Hektor asked, smiling malevolently.

"Agnes is released immediately. You expunge all this crap about her being in the Action Wing. In fact, I want to see evidence that she is a member in good standing of the SPS. Hard-copy evidence I can give to my lawyer."

"Next."

"You will give her enough stock to achieve 70 percent control of her portfolio."

"Next."

"I see her ... here."

"It will take a little while to prepare."

Justin headed for the kitchen. "Take it."

An hour and a half later a slightly confused Agnes Goldstein walked back into her own house. Justin came out of the den and went up to her. "Are you OK?"

Agnes's dazed look did not go away; if anything, it got worse.

"Justin, what on Mars is going on? I've been threatened, arrested, almost put on the list for psyche auditing. I couldn't get a lawyer because they said that my insurance was canceled. But I know it wasn't. When I thought that it couldn't get weirder, I was released, picked up, and driven home in the nicest limousine I've ever seen, and ... and, Justin, I've just been given supermajority." Justin slowly steered the still talking Agnes to the kitchen without trying to break into her nonstop monologue. While she was talking he took her coat and got her a bottled drink called G! from the refrigerator. It appeared to be slimy, green, carbonated algae. Justin couldn't drink the stuff, but it seemed to be the drink du jour.

"Seventy percent?" she gasped. "Can that be real?"

"Let's check. Sebastian, can you confirm if Agnes owns seventy percent of her portfolio? Also, can you make sure that she's a member of the SPS in good standing, and get her the top lawyer insurance plan for one year, prepaid. The one where the top-rank lawyer comes to your house and does your laundry."

"Justin," answered the faithful avatar, "her portfolio is indeed at 70 percent. The title is free and clear. Your lawyer has hard-copy proof that Agnes could not possibly be a member of the Action Wing, and assures me that she can manufacture more if needed. The lawyer is on the way."

"Thank you, sebastian."

Agnes was still staring, dumbfounded, at Justin. "Mr. Cord ... Justin, why are you doing this for me? I thought you wanted me to earn it on my own. I kind of wanted to earn it on my own."

"Agnes," he answered, eyes warm in appreciation, "you did earn it. You stood by me against a man you knew to be dangerously powerful. Your acquaintance with me put you in danger, and this was the only way to give you a cushion of safety. So you most definitely earned and will continue to earn this. It's the least I could do. From here on in, you're going to be under the microscope. I'm so sorry that my coming into your life in even so minor a way has done this to you. If anything, what you've received today is not enough. You deserved the right to make your own future, and that's been taken away. I only hope that when you realize what I've done to your life you'll forgive me."

Agnes was flabbergasted. "Are you insane? I have a supermajority! Thank you, thank you, and thank you. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I'd ever get that that. As for standing by you, of course I did. You tried to help me, and I was just returning the favor. Do you still need my help?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, the man who had me arrested is still in my living room, and I'm pretty sure that he's Hektor Sambianco."

"He is Hektor Sambianco, deputy director of Special Operations, GCI, and a royal pain in my ass. You could help me out by giving us some breathing room."

Agnes nodded her head. "Say no more. I don't want to know. I'm going upstairs to take a bath, and then I'm going to bed. But if you need anything, you call."

"I will. You enjoy your bath." Justin watched her head up the stairs. Sighing, he got a beer from the fridge. There was indeed some Hacker-Pschorr Munich, but the cheap bastard had only bought synthetic, and in a can at that! Justin headed back into the living room to keep his part of the bargain. He found Hektor in a deep slumber. It occurred to him that Hektor probably didn't get that much time to sleep. In fact, Justin concluded, he may well have been one of the busiest men in the solar system. With savage glee he kicked Hektor's foot and shouted in his ear, "Five minutes, and the clock is ticking."

The look of surprise on Hektor's face was well worth the price of having to listen to him mouth off for five minutes-eternity that it may be.

"What," groused Hektor, "no good-morning kiss?"

Justin sat down in a chair opposite his nemesis.

Hektor yawned. "Ahh, I can see that as usual you have no sense of humor. Very well. Justin Cord," he said, in as officious a tone as he could muster, "I, Hektor Sambianco, have been duly authorized by the board of GCI to make you an offer."

"An offer I can't refuse?"

Hektor didn't understand the reference. "Of course you can refuse it. But you'd be a fool if you did."

"Four minutes."

"GCI wants you to incorporate."

Justin smiled. "It won't take me four minutes to say no, but you paid for 'em. I could spend the time saying, 'Fuck you.' That would be far more gratifying."

Hektor ignored Justin's impertinence. He'd gotten what he wanted ... so far. He'd suffer the barbs of this fool gladly.

"Justin, what would the Liberty Party loyal say if they could hear you now?"

"If they knew I was talking to you they'd probably want me to stop being so polite."

Hektor laughed. "But you haven't heard the details."

"Oh, this'll be good," answered Justin. "What can you possibly offer to make me join you?"

Hektor's smile was insidious. "Why, Neela, of course."

"Fuck you!"

"No, Justin," answered Hektor, for the first time raising his voice. "Fuck you you, you arrogant bastard. If I could think of any way of making you suffer, I would. Oh, so you're not with your precious Neela. Too fucking bad! Millions of people are dead because of you and your stubborn, idiotic, superstitious fear of incorporation. I dare say everyone on this planet knows someone whose friends are dead or suffering because of you. Yes, I have the power to keep you from Neela, but I'm willing to toss it because I need you. You're getting the best damned deal in the universe."

Justin remained unfazed.

"Aside from Neela," Justin said, "I already have a pretty good deal, Hektor. You can't keep me away from my money forever-my lawyers will see to that, and other than Neela, you certainly can't offer me anything I don't already have. Also, if you wanted to kill me, I'd be dead. So I'm clearly better off living, by your calculations."

Hektor clapped his hands slowly. "Bravo, Justin. Bravo. The Unincorporated Man has figured it all out, has he? Alright. Let's go over the flip side of the credit. First of all, you will not see Neela again, ever. And don't give me any crap about being able to find a loophole. Fuck loopholes. Mark my words: GCI will kill her before we let you see her again. Not that it would come to that. A simple accident, followed by misplacing her cryo unit, would take care of her for centuries. But why stop there? Before she meets with, hmm ... how shall I put it? unfortunate circumstance, we'll make sure to run a campaign that'll expose your illicit affair."

"You have no proof."

"Don't be an idiot. I wouldn't be stupid enough to make a threat I couldn't back up."

All Justin could do was brood. "Go on," he said acidly.

"She and her family will be reviled," continued Hektor. "And, mark my words, Cord. I'll make sure she suffers greatly before her 'accident.' As far as you're concerned, we'll tie up every credit you own, expensive lawyers or not. You want to be taxed? You'll have to de-de-," Hektor searched for the unfamiliar word, "declare every microcredit. By the time we're done you'll be begging in the street. Anyone who helps you, even to the point of giving you food money, will be audited. Oh, it will be stretching the law, but what the hell, you don't give a damn about us, so why should we care about you?"

"Finished?" Justin asked, barely managing to contain the rage he was feeling toward the man currently holding a metaphorical gun to both his and his lover's head.

Hektor laughed. "I'm just getting started, actually. I'll make sure that you get a picture of every person that the Action Wing kills. I'll then pay for their parents, siblings, spouses, and children to find whatever hole you happen to be living in and ask you why. Why did you let it happen? You will not escape the consequences of your actions, Mr. Cord, any more than the rest of us will. I ... will ... haunt ... you."

Justin eyed Hektor coldly. "Is that all?"

"Cocky, aren't you?" asked Hektor. "We can get started right now if you'd like. I can have this street filled in an hour. If you're so sure you're blameless, just wait and see the relatives of those who've been killed."

"I'm not blameless, Sambianco, but I didn't kill anyone either."

"But you can stop it!" exclaimed Hektor. "Every moment you lead your Liberty Party lemmings, every moment you remain unincorporated, people die, and even more will suffer."

"I'm not buying that, Hektor. I'm just one man; this is a system of forty billion. And in my day and age we used to have a saying for that: 'Shit happens.' And, as you're well aware, I'm doing all I can to ease the suffering ... stop the violence."

The only reason Justin was entertaining Sambianco was because the specter of Neela's suffering and threatened death had paralyzed him. He wanted to kick himself for allowing the weakness-after all, millions depended on him now. And his cause was right ... yet he stood still, taking the blows like a dazed fighter in the ring, for what? The love of a woman.

"Justin," continued Hektor, "you're not one man. You're the Unincorporated Man. And in that you're truly cursed. But yours is not like other curses. Yours leaves you alone but afflicts the world around you. The most terrifying thing about all this is that you can end it at any time. But you don't see it as a curse, do you? You see it as some sort of perverse blessing, and so hang on to it with both hands, no matter what the price. It's already cost you Black, Harper, the McKenzies, that tunnel rat-and now this Goldstein woman will be next, one way or another. But you still won't give up your curse. It's the one reason I can't completely hate you. You can't see the difference. Man, Shakespeare could write a tragedy about all of us that would make Othello Othello seem like much ado about nothing." seem like much ado about nothing."

"You'd, of course, be perfect as Iago," chided Justin.

Hektor smiled wanly and let it drop. He was just glad his avatar hadn't answered at the sound of its name.

"Justin," continued Hektor, "you may not believe this, but I'm your best friend. I'm trying to save you, and you won't listen."

Justin realized there was only so much Hektor would take before pulling up the stakes and taking action. Sooner or later the cards would have to be dealt, and the hand would have to be played.