"You've been here before." It was a statement, not a question.
"You've had the procedure before."
"Ten times now."
"And you want it again."
He turned from her and entered a few numbers into his computer to bring up the case file. "Okay, right. Ten times. Are you sure you want to do it again?"
"Same method as the last time?"
"No," she said, smiling eagerly, "I want something *really* good this time."
He wondered why he'd chosen this job in the first place. This was one of the tougher clients.
"You are fully aware of the cleanup cost?"
He looked at the screen again.
INITIALS: A. M.
NUMBER OF CLONINGS: 10
CAUSE OF ORIGINAL DEATH: Execution
He turned back to his client. "I know it's got to be hard, going through what you did, but do you really think…"
She cut into his speech. "No, you don't *know* anything. You don't *know* what it's like to be raped and tortured and left for dead.
You don't *know* what it's like to have the police and your coworkers and even friends and family think you must have done something to provoke him.
You don't *know* what it's like to sit and watch your attacker being executed, and know that it's not going to be enough.
You don't *know* how good it feels to have his sorry ass cloned and brought back so you can kill him yourself. You don't *know* any of that."
"Ten times? This is your eleventh visit. Wasn't once enough? And if once wasn't, ten should be."
"No," she admitted, "it wasn't. But they've come up with something new in the cloning department."
*Uh-oh*, he thought uneasily.
She leaned forward. "This time? When I get to torture him as much as I want before killing him? He's going to remember *all the other times I've done it*!"