"Have no fear, young lady. You have awakened in the Matrix Center on Ganymede. There, you will recall, you at some time in the past commissioned us to make a vibration pattern of your total physical, mental and spiritual self. "You did this," the recording continued, "against the possibility that, at some future time, accident or the unavoidable hazards of honor would result in your organically premature death. And this has come to pass. But, by means of your matrix, you have escaped dissolution. You are an exact duplicate of your former self in all but the most minor respects. "Congratulations on your good fortune, and welcome to a new life where we trust you will find the greatest measure of personal fulfillment." As the recording ended, an attendant entered the room. "Hello, Vera." She was smiling and pleasant voiced. "Want to put on that white gown and come with me?" I followed her in bare feet over carpeting soft as lamb wool, into an office that was really not much like an office--more like a cozily furnished living room. On the couch sat a balding man in a tweed suit. Vague earlier memories gradually took shape. "Is this my placement interview?" The man smiled. "Yes. You have a wonderful memory net in that brain of yours." "Wasn't I supposed to remember?" "It's usually one of the things erased in the duplication process. But then, you were here not so very long ago." I tried to recall. "It couldn't have been too recently." Again the interviewer smiled. "Only a week ago, my dear." He saw my dismay. "Oh, but don't let that bother you, Vera. That's about par for gang leaders." Curiously, when he said the words 'gang leaders' I felt a little bit embarrassed, almost ashamed. "Well now," he said, getting down to business, "I should like to have a brief chat with you about your future. It's our job to help give you a fresh new start in life. Can you think of anything you'd especially like to do, any career you would like to follow?" I considered this but drew a blank. "No, frankly, I can't." "Well, then, perhaps you'd like to return to Callisto?" He said this in a totally neutral fashion. "No. Not that anymore." "Good," he said, rising to his feet. All at once I was shivering and trembling. "Something is wrong with me. I mean, it's true what I just said. That's how I feel. I don't want to go back to the gang. But--I can remember how differently I felt--before. And somehow it seems wrong to change one's mind so--suddenly." His hands rested on my shoulders. "Vera, this is what going through the matrix process does to a person." His voice was low, boundlessly sympathetic. "Each time it heals a little bit of your personality along with the physical battle scars. The change is very slight and very subtle. You hardly noticed it at all the first time, did you?" I shook my head. "But, how long can this ... healing process go on?"