Later, examining himself more closely, he could find no scars or anything else to distinguish his body from a thousand other bodies. His hands were uncallused. He was wiry rather than muscular. He wondered what sort of work he had done on Earth.
Murder?
He frowned. He wasn't ready to accept that.
A man tapped him on the shoulder. "How you feeling?"
Barrent turned and saw a large, thick-shouldered red-haired man standing beside him.
"Pretty good," Barrent said. "You were in line behind me, weren't you?"
"That's right. Number 401. Name's Danis Foeren."
Barrent introduced himself.
"Your crime?" Foeren asked.
"Murder."