I still really hate, and I know this is going to start A Debate we’ve already had, but so be it, I hate seeing Orson Scott Card compared to Wizard Book Lady either as a writer or a person, bc the fact is he’s a good writer and a vastly differently terrible person
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If not for the fat phobia this is actually a wildly intriguing premise
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The story ends with this kind of cheesily predictable Wham Ending The fully-trained-up H, transformed into this starved broken shell of a man, is told what his first assignment will be in his new career and we're only told it's "worse than anything he'd imagined"
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And he asks "Can I just know one thing? Where am I? What am I doing? The real me" The Company guy thinks he means the current clone, who ironically is codenamed "I", and tells him he's having huge banquets on a pleasure planet and well on his way to ending up back here
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