Regis said, "We could take the easy way out, and arrange it so we'd
never have to see each other again. Or we could do it the hard way." He
extended his hand, and after a minute, I understood, and we shook hands
briefly, like strangers who have just met. He added, "Your work with the
trailmen is finished, but We Hasturs committed ourselves to teach some
of the Terrans our science--matrix mechanics. Dr. Allison--Jason--you
know Darkover, and I think we could work with you. Further, you know
something about slipping mental gears. I meant to ask; would you care to
be one of them? You'd be ideal."
I looked out the window at the distant mountains. This work--this would
be something which would satisfy both halves of myself. The irresistible
force, the immovable object--and no ghosts wandering in my brain. "I'll
do it," I told Regis. And then, deliberately, I turned my back on him
and went up to the quarters, now deserted, which we had readied for the
trailmen. With my new doubled--or complete--memories, another ghost had
roused up in my brain, and I remembered a woman who had appeared vaguely
in Jay Allison's orbit, unnoticed, working with the trailmen, tolerated
because she could speak their language. I opened the door, searched
briefly through the rooms, and shouted, "Kyla!" and she came. Running.
Disheveled. Mine.
At the last moment, she drew back a little from my arms and whispered,
"You're Jason--but you're something more. Different ..."
"I don't know who I am," I said quietly, "but I'm me. Maybe for the
first time. Want to help me find out just who that is?"
I put my arm around her, trying to find a path between memory and
tomorrow. All my life, I had walked a strange road toward an unknown
horizon. Now, reaching my horizon, I found it marked only the rim of an
unknown country.
Kyla and I would explore it together.