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day. And about Cicero. We were talking Latin."
    "I've forgotten all the Latin I ever knew." Becca tossed her hair, forced a laugh. "So what do you do nowadays?"
    "Mostly I'm a conduit for data. The University has been using me as a research spider, which I don't mind doing, because it passes the time. Except that I take up a lot more memory than any real search spider, and don't do that much better a job. And the information I find doesn't have much to do with me —it's all about the real world. The world I can't touch." The metal tree bled color.
    "Mostly," he said, "I've just been waiting for Dad to die. And now it's happened."
    There was a moment of silence before Becca spoke. "You know that Dad had himself scanned before he went."
    "Oh yeah. I knew."
    "He set up some kind of weird foundation that I'm not part of, with his patents and programs and so on, and his money and some other people's."
    "He'd better not turn up here."
    Becca shook her head. "He won't. Not without your permission, anyway. Because I'm in charge here. You—your program—it's not a part of the foundation. Dad couldn't get it all, because the University has an interest, and so does the family." There was a moment of silence. "And I'm the family now."
    "So you . . . inherited me," Jamie said. Cold scorn dripped from his words.
    "That's right," Becca said. She squatted down amid the rubble, rested her forearms on her knees.
    "What do you want me to do, Digit? What can I do to make it better for you?"
    "No one ever asked me that," Jamie said.
    There was another long silence.
    "Shut it off," Jamie said. "Close the file. Erase it."
    Becca swallowed hard. Tears shimmered in her eyes. "Are you sure?" she asked.
    "Yes. I'm sure."
    "And if they ever perfect the clone thing? If we could make you . . . " She took a breath. "A person?"
    "No. It's too late. It's . . . not something I can want anymore."
    Becca stood. Ran a hand through her hair. "I wish you could meet my daughter," she said. "Her name is Christy. She's a real beauty."
    "You can bring her," Jamie said.
    Becca shook her head. "This place would scare her. She's only three. I'd only bring her if we could have . . . "
    "The old environment," Jamie finished. "Pandaland. Mister Jeepers. Whirlikin Country."
    Becca forced a smile. "Those were happy days," she said. "They really were. I was jealous of you, I know, but when I look back at that time . . . " She wiped tears with the back of her hand. "It was the best."
    "Virtual environments are nice places to visit, I guess," Jamie said. "But you don't want to live in one. Not forever." Becca looked down at her feet, planted amid rubble.
    "Well," she said. "If you're sure about what you want."
    "I am."
    She looked up at the metal form, raised a hand. "Goodbye, Jamie," she said.
    "Goodbye," he said.
    She faded from the world.
    And in time, the world and the tree faded, too.
    Â 
    Hand in hand, Daddy and Jamie walked to Whirlikin Country. Jamie had never seen the Whirlikins before, and he laughed and laughed as the Whirlikins spun beneath their orange sky.
    The sound of a bell rang over the green hills. "Time for dinner, Jamie," Daddy said.
    Jamie waved goodbye to the Whirlikins, and he and Daddy walked briskly over the fresh green grass toward home.
    "Are you happy, Jamie?" Daddy asked.
    "Yes, Daddy!" Jamie nodded. "I only wish Momma and Becky could be here with us."
    "They'll be here soon."
    When, he thought, they can get the simulations working properly.
    Because this time, he thought, there would be no mistakes. The foundation he'd set up before he died had finally purchased the University's interest in Jamie's program—they funded some scholarships, that was all it finally took. There was no one in the Computer Department who had an interest anymore.
    Jamie had been loaded from an old backup—there was no point in using the corrupt file that Jamie had become, the one that had turned itself into