Derrence wanted to ask why Tzadi and the others were so quiet now, and
why children still ran around the streets of residential neighborhoods,
and--above all--what was the sense in a world of machines. But he asked
no questions. These were not people. In man's image, but not man.
Their answers weren't for him.
"I don't believe you," he said, wanting to hurt them, anger them;
wanting most of all to hear himself say it. "I believe it's all a joke,
or nightmare, or figment of my insane mind."
The man to Tzadi's right held up his hand. A small opening appeared in
the palm, and grew larger. When it was a hole as large as the wrist
behind it, the man said, "Breathe deeply and you won't suffer."
"Wait," the man to Tzadi's right said. "He's the last. Let him
_believe_!" He tapped the man between; the one looking out the window
with his back to Derrence. That man turned, and cleared his throat, and
seemed embarrassed. Derrence heard himself laughing. It was too much.
He looked at the man and laughed and laughed.
His duplicate, his android self, also laughed. It was the laugh of the
true Derrence Cale--weak, frightened, ineffectual and apologetic. "I'm
sorry, sir," the android Derrence Cale said. "I hope I can do as well
as you've done."
The hand with the hole came across the desk, and something very sweet
filled the air. Derrence Cale breathed deeply.