The Changed Man by Orson Scott Card Page A

deserve one,” she said. “And neither do you.”
    â€œI say give the man a break. At least wait for the proof.”
    She snorted. “What more proof does he need, Gemini? A signed statement from Rodney Bingley that Orion Overweed is a bloody hitler?”
    Gemini smiled and spread his hands. “We didn’t actually see what Rodney did next, did we? Maybe he was struck by lightning two hours later, before he saw anybody—I mean, you’re required to show that damage did happen. And I don’t feel any change to the present—”
    â€œYou know that changes aren’t felt. They aren’t even known, since we wouldn’t remember anything other than how things actually happened!”
    â€œAt least,” Gemini said, “watch what happens and see whom Rodney tells.”
    So she led Orion back to the controls, and at her instructions Orion lovingly started the holo moving again.
    And they all watched as Rodney Bingley walked to the edge of the ravine, then walked back to the truck, drove it to the edge and over into the chasm, and died on the rocks.
    As it happened, Hector hooted in joy. “He died after all! Orion didn’t change a damned thing, not one damned thing!”
    Manwool turned on him in disgust. “You make me sick,” she said.
    â€œThe man’s dead,” Hector said in glee. “So get that stupid string off Orion or I’ll sue for a writ of—”

    â€œGo pucker in a corner,” she said, and several of the women pretended to be shocked. Manwool loosened the lovecord and slid it off Orion’s wrist. Immediately he turned on her, snarling.”Get out of here! Get out! Get out!”
    He followed her to the door of the crambox. Gemini was not the only one who wondered if he would hit her. But Orion kept his control, and she left unharmed.
    Orion stumbled back from the crambox rubbing his arms as if with soap, as if trying to scrape them clean from contact with the lovecord. “That thing ought to be outlawed. I actually loved her. I actually loved that stinking, bloody, son-of-a-bitching cop!” And he shuddered so violently that several of the guests laughed and the spell was broken.
    Orion managed a smile and the guests went back to amusing themselves. With the sensitivity that even the insensitive and jaded sometimes exhibit, they left him alone with Gemini at the controls of the timelid.
    Gemini reached out and brushed a strand of hair out of Orion’s eyes. “Get a comb someday,” he said. Orion smiled and gently stroked Gemini’s hand. Gemini slowly removed his hand from Orion’s reach. “Sorry, Orry,” Gemini said, “but not anymore.”
    Orion pretended to shrug. “I know,” he said. “Not even for old times’ sake.” He laughed softly. “That stupid string made me love her. They shouldn’t even do that to criminals.”
    He played with the controls of the holo, which was still on. The image zoomed in; the cab of the truck grew larger and larger. The chronons were too scattered and the image began to blur and fade. Orion stopped it.
    By ducking slightly and looking through a window into the cab, Orion and Gemini could see the exact place where the outcropping of rock crushed Rod Bingley’s
head against the gas tank. Details, of course, were indecipherable.
    â€œI wonder,” Orion finally said, “if it’s any different.”
    â€œWhat’s any different?” Gemini asked.
    â€œDeath. If it’s any different when you don’t wake up right afterward.”
    A silence.
    Then the sound of Gemini’s soft laughter.
    â€œWhat’s funny?” Orion asked.
    â€œYou,” the younger man answered. “Only one thing left that you haven’t tried, isn’t there?”
    â€œHow could I do it?” Orion asked, half-seriously (only half?). “They’d only clone me back.”
    â€œSimple enough,”