“Yeah.  So?”

“So why do you do it?  You really want to cause yourself irreversible brain trauma?”

“Nah, of course not.  That’s why I only do it a little, right?”  L12 leaned back from the scope and wiped the ectoplasm off his face.  “It’s just one of my little ways.”

“Man, we don’t have little ways, okay?  We’re clones. Of the same guy. You just think that by doing this you’re demonstrating individuality.  You want to believe that you’re a real person, man.” L10 turned his seat around. “Get over yourself.”

L12 stood.  “Fuck you, Todd.”

“Goddamnit, my name isn’t ‘Todd!’  It’s fucking L10 or 10 if you have to.  But we don’t fucking have fucking names, you delusional fuck!”

L12 pulled the skin under his right eye down, distorting his face, and stuck out his tongue, before diving through the rear hatchway to the living module.

“Prick,” L10 said.

L15 stuck his head through the ceiling hatch.  “It would be all right if he’d just stop wearing all that make-up, you know?”

“Don’t have to convince me,” L10 said.

L15 shook his head.  “Anyway, I finished recalibrating the forward N-S scanner.  Should give us some better resolution for the next reentry.”  He swung down from maintenance bay and took the science officer’s seat.  “Aw, crap, man. Why doesn’t that asshole ever clean up after himself?” He started scooping pink goodge out of the scanner scope and slinging it off his hands and onto the floor.

“Shit, I’m sorry, dude,” L10 said.  “Look, I’ll get Jarvis to take care of that.  You’ve got the rec room for the evening in like, fifteen minutes.  Why don’t you go get started a little early?”

“Cool man,” L15 said.  “Thanks.” He headed back through rear hatchway.

“Besides,” L10 said.  “If any of us were to have a name, it would be me, and it would be Elton.  Duh.” He hit the button on the command console that summoned the ship’s spilkey.

The little robot scuttled in through the rear hatchway.  “I am Spilkey,” it said in a bright, almost cartoonish voice.

“Yeah, Jarvis.  Clean the ectoplasm from the floor and from the science console.  And who’s up for the next watch?” L10 leaned back in the command chair.  “And thanks for fixing the squeak, by the way. That was making me nuts.” The robot extruded a pair of nozzles from its body and started sucking up the go on the floor.

“L9 has the next watch at 0400 ship time,” the spilkey said.  “Commendation for service noted.” The spilkey’s legs telescoped until it was tall enough to vacuum the science officer’s console.

“Christ, little dude.  You’re the only one on this trip that’s going to have any commendations.”  L10 spun in the chair until he was dizzy. “What the hell were thinking? ‘Clones, by Jove!  No more sexual tension. No arguments, no disagreements. Clones!’” He blew a Bronx cheer. “Next time, guys, make sure the guy’s mentally stable, okay?”

“Request noted,” the spilkey said.

“Oh, crap.  Sorry, Jarvis.  That last was rhetorical.  Erase it from your banks, all right?  No need to go filling them up with that sort of moaning.”

“Yes sir.  I am being summoned to the Recreation Chamber.  Do you still require my assistance here?”

“No.  Thanks man.”  L10 watched as the robot walked out of the command module, its legs shortening with each stride until it was a more manageable and proportionate height.  He glanced at the scanner scope. “I just don’t understand what that dude could be seeing in there.” He sighed. “Probably just bored like the rest of us.”  He went to the butler in the corner and ordered coffee and a cruller. “Let’s see what old Bill has for me tonight.” He sat back down in the command chair. “Computer, pick up playback where I left off last watch.”

The computer’s cool, soothing artificial voice said, “Acknowledged,” and L10 sat back to first read, and then watch, and finally watch with subtitles, the last act of As You Like It.