"Some personalities, Vera, are terribly hurt, and they must die several times before they become whole." He took my hand. "And now, my dear, allow me to suggest two alternatives for your future. Doubtlessly, in a universe of infinite possibilities there are infinite alternatives one might take. But I know you quite well (though this may surprise you) and I feel that if you can happily accept one of the two that I mention, you will not again have to seek death in order to return here. For that is, after all, the meaning of your immediate past." "What are these two alternatives?" My voice was quite small. I felt as though my life was warped into this moment like a mobius sheet. "You will go to Mars University, and there train yourself to become a laboratory technician, as you originally promised your parents. This is a useful profession, of service to society. Sufficient funds will be provided." Chagrin filled me. I rebelled at the thought. "Or...?" "Or--and this is also a hard choice, though it may seem glamorous at first--you may become a member of a select expedition to a remote star which our astronomers say has a planetary system capable of supporting our kind of life. There we will plant a new colony." Joy and enthusiasm welled up inside me. "Why, that sounds wonderful! That's my choice." He shook his head slowly. "Wait. Wait, Vera. This is also to be considered. You will never again see Jupiter or any of the Solar System. You will travel for a hundred and fifty years. Most of this time you will sleep in deepfreeze state, of course. But inevitably you will age twenty years in the process." This meant I would arrive at the other end, thirty-seven years old. My eagerness cooled. "What a pair of alternatives!" He nodded gravely. "You give them both some thought. Meanwhile in the next room you'll find some new clothes. See me afterwards." He pressed a button on the edge of the couch and the attendant came in. "Yes, Professor Worth?" "Take Vera along please." Something buzzed alive in my brain. It was like a set of tumblers clicking into place. I remembered. I turned at the door. "I remember you! You were the spy--that is--" "Yes, my dear." "But--" He smiled. "I was observing you, Vera. You were due for your fifth matrix--your last by law. Society didn't want to lose you. I hoped my appearance would react on your subconscious, bring your previous experiences here forward. To help bring out the good, so to speak. It was strictly experimental." He was still smiling as the door closed behind me. In the next room, Naomi had just finished dressing. She glared her hostility. "That was a lousy trick you played on me, Vera." "I guess it was. I'm sorry." "You're _sorry_! Girl, if I had my whip and claws right now I'd _make_ you feel sorry." I was silent a moment. Then I asked her, almost timidly: "Naomi, you're not going back to the gang now, are you?"