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reduced it, relegating it to the micro-collection.
    From his other eye a lance of violet light emerged, melding with the red light as both passed through the epidermal flap. They formed a spectrum of color on the other side of the flap, and a spectral light-bath covered the plazymer and the tiny flakes upon it
    He stepped from the plazymer onto moist soil, and as he did so the edges of the plazymer shrank and wrapped around the flakes, enclosing them in a neat little white packet.
    The packet, no more than a quarter the width of his smallest fingernail and only a little bit thicker, rose on the spectral beam. He focused the beam on his now-exposed bellybutton at the center of a round and protruding belly, and the packet tucked itself neatly into the orifice, disappearing from view.
    Loyalty to the Bureau, he thought. The Bureau of Loyalty.
    With the fingers of one hand, he smoothed the epidermal flap back onto the back of the other hand and sealed the bloodless wound, leaving no visible evidence of incision.
    Cool, smooth currents of electricity traversed the superconductors of his artificial brain. He was pleased with this assignment, for he had been programmed to feel this way.
    The happiest government employees were not human.
    Jin understood full well that he wasn’t human, but felt no remorse at this. His cyberoo parts didn’t wear out easily, and theoretically he could go on forever with only minimal self-maintenance. He had been programmed to troubleshoot his own parts, a nearly failsafe method that encompassed backups on top of backups. Every part in his body and every power system had twelvefold redundancy.
    This C-Unit 7891 was nearly invincible. Anyone attempting to destroy it would have to accomplish annihilation in one quick, efficient act. Short of that, one of the biogenerating redundancies would remain functional, from which Jin could reconstruct himself in a matter of seconds, using the raw material of his body and nearby materials of virtually any kind.
    His last backup system represented self-preservation, a priority in this series exceeded only by Jin’s obligations to the Bureau.
    Anyone attempting to destroy Jin had another obstacle to overcome, which Jin displayed now as part of his testing procedure. He touched his nose, and in a nanosecond little gunports opened around his body, revealing a panoply of mini-cannons. Some were on his face, with one on each cheek, one on his forehead and one in the center of his chin. Even his sexual organ had been converted to a baby howitzer.
    He tested his guns, using silencers and blank cartridges. None misfired.
    Now where did I put that damned broom? he thought.
    His eyes continued to project beams of red and violet, but in parallel.
    With an unadulterated fingernail, he dug into his bellybutton, pulling out the white packet and dozens of others, in varying colors. He settled on a brown one, replaced the other packets. The beams of eye-light remerged, and he narrowed the spectral force, passing the tip of it over the packet. The packet unfolded in his hands, revealing a pile of light and dark flakes.
    He heard and then felt a slight wind, sheltered the flakes to prevent scattering.
    He nudged them around with a forefinger, found the one he wanted, which was distinguishable to his field of vision by its shape and hue.
    The red light receded into one eye, leaving only violet, which touched only the selected flake. On the end of the light beam, he lifted the flake and watched it enlarge, into a rough straw broom on a long bamboo handle.
    Momentarily he held the broom in midair on the beam, then let the broom thump to the ground.
    Presently the brown packet had been replaced in his body cavity, and he was ready for the assignment. Now he was Jin the Plarnjarn, a holy man of uncommon excellence.
    Stark naked and brushing the ground before each step, Jin emerged from the oak grove and merged slowly with the crowd approaching St. Charles Beach.
    Don’t step on the