The wheels had been set in motion long before Magna was born. He knew what he had to do, but always hoped it wouldn't happen. The idea if taking another life to prolong yours was a moral dilemma he justified by telling himself over and over that he was their creator, not god. They would not exist without him. It sometimes worked. Federal service used to be a privilege. To serve your country was something you did for the satisfaction of helping others. That all changed after the colonization of Mars. The mutations from radiation forced enormous advances in clone research and Tarin Industry stock shares skyrocketed. The only way to ensure a clean gene pool was to leave nothing to chance. The federal government had been losing most of its younger workforce to higher paying positions in the private sector, which propelled the Office of Personnel Management to begin a new recruitment campaign: Give your service to your government and receive immortality--clones made from your DNA. A supply of squeaky clean spare parts should you ever break down. It worked, and Uncle Same became Tarin Industries largest customer. Those who served the government were granted immortality. It was time for Magna to accept his. "I need to make a vidcall. May I have some privacy please?" Magna forced a smile and the doctor obliged closing the door behind him. He looked out the window as the sky buses and cargo ships carved lines across the sky in an endlessly moving grid. He thought about trees and the sunset and wished he could see them. Then he made the call. 004