"Who is this person who is really Baker?" the director asked.
"The person who is now reading this story," Street said.
XIII
"I'm afraid it won't do, Mr. Street," the editor of Man's True Space said across his desk. "It's fiction. There can be only one Baker and tens of thousands would read the story in my magazine."
"You are missing the point, Mr. Trent," Street said. "There is only one manuscript and it is in your hands. You are Baker."
"No," Trent said. "No."
"Yes," Street said relentlessly. "Just as the director realized that he was not Baker, you must realize you are."
Trent lay back in his swivel, gasping. "All right, all right, I admit it. I am Baker."
"But you aren't really, Mr. Trent," Street said calmly. "I know you thought at one time you were Baker and then repressed the idea. But I knew at some future time the delusion might return and you would begin claiming to be Baker once more. As you said, there can only be one Baker. I am Baker."
"You lie," Trent snarled. "I know the truth now. I am Baker, and there can only be one."