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that's true," Marcus said, and glanced at his name tag. He stopped. The tag read D. Garibaldi.

"Garibaldi?" he said. "Any relation to Michael Garibaldi?"

"Yeah, back about five, six generations. Course, in a tight-knit community like you get here in Marsdome, everybody's related to just about everybody else after awhile. Why? You a history buff or something?"

"Something," Marcus said. He wasn't quite sure why, but he found the synchronicity of entrusting his life to a Garibaldi both reassuring and vaguely amusing. "I should've realized. You sound just like him."

He shrugged. "I ain't got much time for history vids."

They Stopped in front of a narrow glass door. Inside, Marcus could see the front panels of several dozen small tubes. One of them was open. Waiting.

"You ready?" Garibaldi said.

"I suppose so," Marcus said.

Here we go again, he thought, and opened the door to the cryo unit.

He closed his eyes.

He opened his eyes.

"How you feeling?"

Marcus sat up, supported by the hands that reached out to help him. The room was impossibly cold.

"You got a bit of epidermal burn," someone said. "Slight accident with the freezer units about ten years ago. It'll pass."

Marcus looked up. It was Garibaldi, plus thirty-two years. He caught Marcus's look. "You got lucky. I retire next week. I'm vice-president of operations now. I don't usually do the hands-on stuff anymore, but I remembered you, so I thought what the hell. Might be nice to see a familiar face when you wake up."

"Seeing a familiar face .. is exactly what I have in mind," Marcus said.

She floated in the nutro tank, eyes closed, her long black hair suspended like a veil around her face. She was naked. Marcus hadn't considered that part of it, and found himself turning away
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