Where am I? wondered, and then laughed again. Who cared? It wasn’t the farm, that was for sure, and he didn’t have to go back there ever again. He reached for the ID barcode sewn onto the right sleeve of his prison jumpsuit and ripped until it tore, rendering him unknown.
Kressl war and the work farm, the guards, the other inmates, free. He took a few staggering steps, found his footing and raced into the trees.
Davin sat on his idling speeder and waited for the order to move out. Around him, six other men sat on speeders like his. Each face was a mirror image . Subtle physical differences existed between them, despite shared DNA, but twenty-five years of seeing only Delta-23 replicates bored . The scientists who pioneered replication technology could speak convincingly of individual
