To Live Again

“Excuse me,” he said. He left Elena arrayed like a fashionable piece of sculpture in the library and made his way to his office. He touched the doorseal, full palm here, not merely thumb. The thick tawny oaken door, inset with twining filaments of security devices, yielded to him, an obedient wife that would surrender only to the right caress. Within, Kaufma

Next he switched on the neutron flux sca

He watched her for a few moments. She was naked again, rushing about the apartment, getting ready to go out. No doubt to make the preliminary arrangements for her transplant. Kaufma

Swinging around to his desk, he activated the telephone. “I want my daughter traced wherever she goes today,” he said. “I expect her to visit the soul bank, and don’t interfere with that but tell me where she goes afterwards. Especially if she goes to any of her friends. Male friends. No, no interceptions; just surveillance.”

He suspected he was being overcautious. Nevertheless, he would have her watched, at least today. If necessary, he’d order surreptitious external contraceptive measures as an extra precaution. Risa could sleep around all she liked, but he had no intention of allowing her to get more than a few days into any premarital pregnancies just yet.

Kaufma

It took more than a minute. Even Mark Kaufma

Then the amiable face blossomed on the screen. Santoliquido was about fifty, ruddy of skin, white-haired, with a large, commanding oval face. He was a man of considerable wealth who had entered the bureaucracy out of a sense of mission.

“Yes, Mark?”

“Frank, I wanted you to know that my daughter will soon be on her way down to your bank to pick out a persona.”

“You broke down, then!”

“Let’s say Risa broke me down.” Santoliquido shook with pleasant laughter. “Well, she’s a strong-willed girl. Strong enough to handle a transplant I’d say. What shall I give her? A Mother Superior? A lady banker?”

“On the contrary,” said Kaufma

“Certainly. And what if Risa isn’t interested in a person of those specifications?”

“I think she will be, Frank. But if she isn’t, give her what she wants, I suppose. I’ll leave the final decisions up to the two of you.”

“You’ll have to,” said Santoliquido. His eyes regarded Kaufma

“I’ve been so damned busy. Paul’s death, and everything—”

“Yes, I know. But you shouldn’t neglect the semia

“All right. You sound like a recruiter.”

“I am, Mark. We’ve been expecting you for weeks.”

“What if I come tomorrow, then? I wouldn’t want to be there today. If I ran into Risa, she’d think her horrible old father was spying on her.”

“True. Tomorrow, then,” Santoliquido said. “Is there anything else, Mark?”

“Just one thing.” Kaufma

“No decision’s been taken yet. None. We’ve had dozens of applicants.”

“Roditis among them?”

“I couldn’t say.”

“You could say. Maybe you won’t say, but that’s a different thing. I know Roditis is hungry to add Paul to his collection of transplants. I’d merely like to emphasize that such a transplant would be distasteful and offensive not only to the immediate Kaufma

Santoliquido’s ringed hand swept across the screen. “I’m aware of your feelings,” he said gently. “However, family wishes ca

“Meaning that you favor giving Paul to Roditis?”

“I said nothing of the kind.” Santoliquido’s geniality began to ebb. “We’re still weighing all applicants.”

“I wish I could take Uncle Paul myself, and keep him out of the skull of that — that fishmonger!”

“What about the consanguinity laws?” Santoliquido asked. “Not to mention your uncle’s own will? He’ll have to go outside the family, Mark. And I suspect we won’t be giving him to any Schiffs or Warburgs or Lehmans or Loebs, either. Can we drop the subject, now?”

“I suppose?” Santoliquido smiled again. “I’ll see you tomorrow. And then, Saturday, your party, Dominica.”

“Yes. Dominica on Saturday” The screen went dark. Kaufma

Kaufma