"We can't trust each other?"

"Trust is simply a matter of being able to predict someone's moves.
Since I'm a pretty good facsimile of you, I figure we can both predict
each other just fine by working out what we would do in each other's
situation." It just doesn't feel right calling myself a copy. Have I
really become a commodity? I keep my sword raised, on guard just in
case the other Suzi tries anything.

"So what's the problem?"

"Our boss tried to kill you."

"You mean you've had a change of heart?"

"I'd like to propose an alternative, but we're going to have to trust
each other." I throw my katana onto the floor as a sign of good faith.
While I'm not exactly ready to commit _harakiri_ just yet, suddenly my
imitation of a life doesn't seem to be worth fighting for so hard. I
figure that if either one of us lives on, I haven't really lost much.
The gamble's worth it, because if she'll go along with my plan--and I'm
pretty sure she will, because I'm pretty sure I would--then we can both
get what we deserve.

Mike doesn't get into his office until seven the next morning. When he
sees me, he freezes, and for just a second he reveals fear in his eyes.

"You're early," he says.

I briefly wonder how much effort he's putting into keeping his voice
steady, trying his best not to give away how scared he is, but that
brief glance has already betrayed his fear. He knows the doctor's
dead. I figure I should have taken him up on his offer a few months
back to join in his poker games. I'd have made a fortune off him.

"I didn't get much sleep." I figure I can trust him not to try to kill
me yet because I haven't revealed my intentions. He's far too trusting
like that. The right move would have been to kill me as soon as he saw
me in the room. But he can't do that. He needs me. So I turn my back
to him, walking up to the window.

"Bad night?" asks Mike, feigning ignorance.

"You could say that. When I got home, I found an intruder waiting for
me."

"My god!" says Mike. "What happened?"

"I dispatched her, naturally." The first rule in my line of work is
never trust anybody, not even somebody pretending to be your friend.

"_Her_?" asks Mike, pretending to be shocked by her gender, knowing
full well how rare human assassins are, let alone women.

I nod silently.

"Did she say anything?" asks Mike.

"No, nothing. She didn't have a chance to."

"Wow," says Mike. "I guess that's too ba