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«Just me,» Nomun said. «Can you walk?»

«Yes,» Young Nomun said, in a hoarse voice. «Yes, I can. You remembered Nomun’s first triumph?»

Nomun nodded.

«A hideous memory,» Young Nomun said. «I begin to understand the hatred the others bear for each other. But if we are clones, is it our fault?»

The answer stuck in Nomun’s throat With an act of will, he forced it out. «No.» Why was that so difficult to say, he wondered. «Come. We should hurry. I’ll go first this time.» Nomun trotted away, and didn’t look back at Young Nomun.

They reached the next intemode without further mishap, well before the rising of the red sun.

No one else was in the shelter when they went inside. The shelter seemed identical to the first, with its ten cots and its pile of provisions. Young Nomun lowered himself heavily to one and put his face into his hands.

Nomun fetched two canisters and a handful of food packets. «Here. Eat; then we’ll rest»

Young Nomun took a canister. «I’ve changed my mind. You cannot be the one. Why would you trouble yourself over me, if you were?» He took a long swallow, and Nomun was pleased to see that his color was better.

Young Nomun continued. «Let’s choose a name for the one who brought us here. First Nomun, perhaps? What do you think?» Nomun shrugged, said nothing.

«Then that’s what I’ll call him. To him: First Nomun.» Young Nomun raised his water canister in a mock toast. He looked at Nomun, raising his eyebrows. «Tell me something. Do you find the similarity of our names as confusing as I do? I’ve made up names for each of us; it helps me to keep them straight. And you...?» Nomun nodded, smiled.

«Ah.... For example, I call the scarred one Bloody Nomun. Appropriate? And the mad fop? Sick Nomun. The frightened one? Not Nomun.» Young Nomun lay back on the cot, fixed his gaze on Nomun. «It would please me to know what you call me.» Nomun hesitated for a moment, then answered. «Well. I think of you as Young Nomun. And so? What do you call me?» «Young Nomun? Indeed? I no longer feel so young. As for you, why....» Young Nomun’s eyes dropped. «I mean no offense, but I think of you as Empty Nomun.»

Nomun tinned away. In empty silence.

Young Nomun laughed, a not-entirely pleasant sound. «Let us discuss our captor. Would you agree that he has an obsessive focus on the children of his flesh? The cyborg mentioned a «prime memory,» did he not? I would guess that the next node will serve up yet another memory related to First Nomun’s horror of his clones. By the way, I don’t think we’ll be able to avoid the storm, no matter how carefully we move. I think that even if none of us are clumsy, the killmech will initiate the sequence. It’s obvious the memories are part of the entertainment» Something stiired at the entrance, and Nomun turned to see Jade Nomun stumble in and throw himself on a cot, breathing heavily.

«The others?» Young Nomun asked.

Jade Nomun replied with a wordless snarl. False Nomun came in, face drawn.

«Well, where were we,» said Young Nomun. «Oh yes. Clones. It appears now that we are all clones. I knew of course that children of my flesh–our flesh–exist. There must be many of them, on thousands of worlds. Too many to count So why were we singled out for chastisement?»

«Because we took the name. The name, the fame, the presence. That’s why.» False Nomun no longer seemed so frightened, as if some of his fear had burned away in the night, He took food and water, retired to the farthest comer of the shelter.

Nomun went to the entrance in time to see Scar Nomun stagger from the jungle, just ahead of the killmech. His right arm flopped; blood soaked the tattered sleeve of his unisuit His left hand clamped the artery, but his face was white.

Dead Nomun stopped at the jungle’s edge. Five bags now hung from its clamps. Frayed silver cables sprouted from the new trophy’s neck. Blue Nomun’s face was as calm in death as it had been in life.

Nomun stood aside as Scar Nomun entered the shelter. Scar Nomun sat heavily on a cot, spoke through gritted teeth. «Get me a tourniquet»

No one responded. Scar Nomun glared at each in turn, looked last at Young Nomun. «So you’ve learned wisdom.» He rose painfully, went to the provisions, and stripped a wrapper from one of the food packs. He twisted it into a band between his teeth and good hand. Then, with great difficulty, he tied it around his upper arm and twisted the knot until it slowed the flow of blood.

«I won’t die so easily,» he said.

«What happened?» Young Nomun leaned forward, took a healthy bite of his food.

Young Nomun has changed, Nomun thought Not surprising. But Nomun found it a little depressing, for some reason.

Scar Nomun looked up from his arm. «‘Predators,’ our late halfmech brother called them. Like a snake with many legs. Or a weasel with scales. When the Blood Moon rises, they gather into packs. The pack I met was a small one, but they have no restraint. They would slash at me and die the next instant, poisoned, writhing in a ball. I crushed a dozen of them. They kept coming until they were all dead and I was as you see.»

Jade Nomun laughed uproariously. «How appropriate; how satisfying. Eaten by your scaly brothers. I suppose they’re much like you–stupid, brutal, persevering. And you poisoned them?»

Oddly, Scar Nomun joined in the laughter, laughed until he drowned out Jade Nomun, who subsided uneasily. «I’m flattered,» Scar Nomun said finally. «Well, you’ll meet my ‘brothers’ soon, fop, and they’ll eat you up more quickly than they did me.» Nomun lay back, looked at the orange ceiling of the shelter. «You’re sleepy?» Young Nomun asked. «Rest. I’ll watch; I’m much stronger today.»

Nomun looked toward Young Nomun. A series of ambiguous emotions seemed to flow across the smooth face. Nomun could not bring himself to trust his younger self, but he decided to close his eyes and rest alertly. If Young Nomun attempted to betray him, at least he would learn a valuable fact.

Nomun’s fatigue was deeper than he had realized, and he sank into dreamless sleep, until a sound disturbed him. It was a thrumming scrabble, covert, quietly violent. Nomun jerked himself awake.

In the comer, False Nomun was rising from Scar Nomun’s cot. Scar Nomun lay still, eyes bulging, a twisted food wrapper biting deeply into his throat.

Jade Nomun lounged on his cot, watching, face taut with amusement. He looked at Nomun. «One more down, eh, clone?»

Nomun glanced at Young Nomun. His face was impassive, relaxed. Young Nomun looked at Nomun, shrugged. «I decided to conserve my strength. That one’s no great loss, you will surely agree. And he had lost much blood; how could he have climbed the next node? A mercy, in a way.»

«And see, the timid one has developed a little backbone,» said Jade Nomun. «Isn’t that a gain?» He laughed and laughed, the ugly sound filling the shelter.

A little later Young Nomun spoke in a low voice. «Tell me the truth, Empty Nomun. Would you have defended him?» Young Nomun’s eyes were clear and guileless.

Nomun did not answer.

The remainder of the afternoon passed in watchful silence. Nomun felt no further inclination to sleep. Jade Nomun laughed occasionally to himself. False Nomun’s face was that of an animate statue, devoid of any purpose beyond the next heartbeat, the next breath. Only Young Nomun seemed able to relax, to doze lightly. Several times Nomun observed Jade Nomun casting a speculative look toward Young Nomun, but when Nomun caught Jade Nomun’s eye, the fop smiled and pulled a mask of innocent curiosity over his mad features. Still dangerous, Nomun thought No. More dangerous. He no longer believes in his own existence. He has nothing to care about anymore. Nomun resolved never to turn his back on Jade Nomun. Or any of them.