（外文电子版资料）Robert J. Sawyer - Identity Theft.pdf

IDENTITY THEFT Robert J. Sawyer The door to my office slid open. “Hello,” I said, rising from my chair. “You must be my nine oclock.” I said it as if I had a ten oclock and an eleven oclock, but I didnt. The whole Martian economy was in a slump, and, even though I was the only private detective on Mars, this was the first new case Id had in weeks. Yes,” said a high, feminine voice. “Im Cassandra Wilkins. I let my eyes rove up and down her body. It was very good work; I wondered if shed had quite so perfect a figure before transferring. People usually ordered replacement bodies that, at least in broad strokes, resembled their originals, but few could resist improving them. Men got buffer, women got curvier, and everyone modified their faces, removing asymmetries, wrinkles, and imperfections. If and when I transferred myself, Id eliminate the gray in my blond hair and get a new nose that would look like my current one had before itd been broken a couple of times. A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Wilkins,” I said. “Im Alexander Lomax. Please have a seat. She was a little thing, no more than a hundred and fifty centimeters, and she was wearing a stylish silver-gray blouse and skirt, but no makeup or jewelry. Id expected her to sit down with a catlike, fluid movement, given her delicate features, but she just sort of plunked herself into the chair. “Thanks,” she said. “I do hope you can help me, Mr. Lomax. I really do. Rather than immediately sitting down myself, I went to the coffee maker. I filled my own mug, then opened my mouth to offer Cassandra a cup, but closed it before doing so; transfers, of course, didnt drink. “What seems to be the problem?” I said, returning to my chair. Its hard reading a transfers expression: the facial sculpting was usually very good, but the movements were somewhat restrained. “My husband—oh, my goodness, Mr. Lomax, I hate to even say this!” She looked