by Carol Riggs
Jodine’s hand could’ve been injured by the punch. Not to mention, slugging that girl can be defined as assault. Violence is prohibited in your contract, if you remember.
I’m not interested in being lectured.
She assaulted me first. It should be considered self-defense.
Was it?
Sure. I was sticking up for myself. For Jodine. Right before that, I had one of those residual memories, and the emotion from that made me hit Noni. It’s the strongest one I’ve ever experienced.
Or you just lost your temper and were getting even. That’s retaliation, not self-defense. I’m going to set up a conference call with the Board of Directors. I’ll share the report from the club, and we’ll determine if this is a breach worthy of assignment termination.
Termination. He’s got to be kidding.
Seriously, Leo, that residual memory pushed me over the edge. My fist and my arm moved before I could stop them.
I doubt that, and mostly, I’m not sure we can trust your judgment anymore. At the very least you’ll be put on probation and closely monitored. Restricted to the Kowalczyks’ house unless accompanied by another person.
That would be like living in jail! I’m practically a hermit as it is. This club thing is a one-time mess-up, and it won’t happen again.
That doesn’t change what happened tonight.
True. I slump. Bleariness blankets me. Leo keeps texting while I stare at my phone.
I’ll let you know what the Board decides in the morning.
Fine.
I tap the screen, growl the lights off, and fall asleep with my clothes on.
After the MT whirs away from me the next morning, the sidewalk leading to the South Park seems ages long. My feet walk, but they don’t seem to get anywhere. The eggs and toast I ate for breakfast sit like stones in my stomach. The sky hangs crisp and gray overhead. Earlier in the kitchen, Nettie looked mournful and didn’t say much. I assume Leo informed the Kowalczyks about my “brawl,” and they told Nettie.
Termination.
That could be my punishment. Termination without pay.
How horrible. I’ll take probation over being terminated. Otherwise, my last two months of weight loss will be for nothing. How could I have let that memory affect me that much? Honestly, I don’t know where my emotions stopped and Jodine’s began. Besides that tangle, I need to know what Vonn’s thinking, whether I can make things right with him. He didn’t answer the text I sent from my personal phone, at least not before I left the house.
I find our park bench vacant. Glancing down the street, I don’t see him heading toward me, either. Maybe he’s running late.
I sit on the bench. Five minutes pass, then ten. A trickle of serious worry leaks in. Maybe this isn’t fixable. He might go to the city gym this morning instead of meeting me here. Maybe he never wants to see me again.
The day slips into deeper bleakness. The park stretches behind me, its expanse cold, its trees stripped of leaves. The air smells empty.
I sit for a while longer, the minutes creeping by. I wish I could carry my own phone in public so I could text him again or see if he answered my message. At least Leo didn’t mention Vonn being in the Enforcers’ report, which means our “date” is probably safe.
It’s almost time to leave the park, and I haven’t even broken a sweat. But why bother? If Leo and the Board end my contract, I won’t need to lose weight anymore. A new Reducer will take over for me. Or if Leo puts me on a house-arrest type of probation…well, that’s depressing enough to make me want to go back to the Kowalczyks’ and eat a whole bag of Doritos.
I scan for Vonn again. A handful of people walk the sidewalks and park paths, guys with hooded sweatshirts, women with suit dresses and heels. A kid packing a hoverboard. By a wireless café, one figure moves along in a hurry. Vonn. The sight of him brings me to my feet in an instant. I jog down the sidewalk.
“I’m really sorry,” I say in a rush when I get near him. “Are you mad at me?”
He struggles for breath. “I was…mad last night. Not now. Bummed, though. Sorry I didn’t message sooner. Mom called this morning…tried to hurry to get here—”
He did text me! I just didn’t get his reply before I left the Kowalczyks’. My relief swells, then vanishes. His face is flushed, and he’s gripping his sweatshirt by his heart. “Vonn, are you okay?”
“Need to sit.”
I help him to a closer bench than our usual one, and he lands with a thump. “Should I call for an ambulance? Are you having chest pains? Any tingling or lightheadedness?”
He shakes his head again. “No. Don’t worry. I’m just winded.”
Sitting beside him, I grab his wrist and feel for his pulse. “You have to be careful with this body. It’s not in good shape.”
He closes his eyes and draws in a long breath. “Don’t I know it.”
Not only that, he’s not a Reducer anymore and has no backup brain waves.
His breathing evens out over the next ten minutes. Thankfully. When I feel sure he isn’t going to collapse right in front of me, I dive into a flood of words. “I’m sorry I was such an idiot last night. I had one of those residual memories about that Noni girl harassing Jodine. Jodine’s emotions fused with mine, and a huge reaction happened before I could stop it. Anyway, Leo’s going to talk to the Board. I’ll either get terminated or put on probation.”
Vonn swaps a woeful look with me. “That’s what I figured. If you’re on probation, we’ll be stuck with only illegal messages and no exercising together. You shouldn’t even have that other phone. It’s one more thing that’ll risk getting you terminated and losing your credits.”
Before I can respond, my Institute phone rings at my waist. I check the caller ID and mouth “Leo” to Vonn, who grimaces.
You’re messaging early, I say into the phone.
Leo answers without hesitation.
I managed to contact the Board a little sooner, despite it being a weekend, and we’ve come to a decision.
Here it goes.
Okay, I’m ready.
We’ve decided you won’t receive compensation for your assignment. That’s the normal penalty for a contract violation.
A contract violation. I’ve been found guilty. Although I suspected the verdict, the news hits me with the force of a nuclear blast.
No pay at all?
No. Your parents, however, will be compensated their portion, since the contract was fulfilled up to the day you turned 18.
I’m terminated, then.
My voice is fractured. Vonn rests his hand on my arm.
I’m afraid so. Someone else will take over for Jodine’s weight loss. The next step is to insert you into a Spare. Since we only house the Spares in one location—this branch—it’ll have to be done here in Seattle.
Oh.
Nothing more comes out than that single word.
I’ve booked your flight for tomorrow afternoon. The Kowalczyks will take you to the airport. I’ll talk to you after that.
I end the messaging and stare across the street. “Looks like I’m going to Seattle tomorrow for a new body.”
Vonn is silent for a bit, then he sighs. “That really sucks. But at least I’ll get to see you sooner than April this way.”
A partial smile wavers on my face. “Good point. I’m just kicking myself, hard. In one swift, stupid move, I’ve lost all my payment credits. And not even for something I expected—like secretly dating you, using my personal phone, or talking to a former Loaner client. Who knows what this Spare body will be like. Its looks, its memories. What it can and can’t do.”
“It’ll be okay. Maybe there won’t be any residuals in your new body.”
“That’d be an awesome change.” A more dismal thought hits me. “Oh no! My backup file is more than a week old. I won’t remember my birthday, or dancing with you at the Night Flight. When you kissed me. Why I got terminated—”
Vonn pulls me against him, his arm snug around my s
houlders. “At least we’ll remember each other, and you’ll remember up to last week. I’ll tell you about everything after that, I promise. And I’ll definitely kiss you again, even though it’ll be a bit weird if you’re in a different body.”
“That’s for sure.” I lean my head on his chest. His heart beats in my ear, loud and solid even through the thickness of his coat. “I’m also worried that if any of my memories were hiding in a corner of Jodine’s brain when my brainmap was made, I’ll lose them for good. I lost that memory of my mom singing me a Christmas song. The one Shelby has now.”
He twines the fingers of his free hand with mine. “You’ll still be you, even without a few memories. If you give me your home address, I’ll come find you. No matter what you can or can’t remember.”
I blink against a mixed swell of gratefulness and doubt. He sounds confident I’ll be the same person without all my memories. I’m not so sure. My thoughts and my past make me who I am, and I don’t want to lose any of me. Even if my appearance changes.
“I wonder what I’ll look like the next time you see me,” I say, tipping back to look into his face. “At least Leo’s giving me a choice about my body. I don’t want to end up ancient or mangled or something.”
“No kidding.” He gives me a mischievous look. “Make sure the new you has long brown hair, is about five-foot-seven, slender, sexy, big eyes—”
“Not funny.” I whap his arm with my other hand, and he laughs. He kisses the side of my face in an exuberant way, and I get a strange double-vision of a music room with a guy wearing a silver eyebrow ring and wavy hair to his shoulders. An interfering memory of Jodine’s kiss from Gavin, I assume. Freaky.
“Seriously, Morgan,” Vonn says. “I’ll like you no matter what you look like.”
I throw my arms around his neck and move in closer to his mouth. “Then kiss me. This is your last chance before I turn into someone else.”
Chapter 28
Rain streams across the thick oval of my window. The private jet I boarded an hour ago cruises through the sky like a featherless metal bird. My destination: Seattle. I’ve never traveled this far from home before. If the situation were a little different, I’d welcome the adventure. As it is, it’s difficult to enjoy the thrill of the journey when I don’t know exactly what lies at my destination. The future is a muddy, gray blur.
At the other end of the seating area, Dr. and Mrs. K. read from portables, surfing online with flicks of their fingertips. They look relaxed and content.
Of course. They’re not the ones getting put into a Spare body.
After tonight this mess will be over, and I’ll be glad. Mom and Dad couldn’t believe it when I told them my job was terminated and that I was going in early for my body change. Blair and Krista sounded shook up, too. While they’re all relieved I don’t have to do the weight loss, they’re worried about what I’ll look like. It’s a big question, all right.
I just want everything to be as close as possible to the way it used to be, how everyone used to see me. Especially Granddad. I don’t know if he’ll be able to handle me being in a totally different body from the one I had at Thanksgiving. He had a hard enough time with the Jodine version. My hands twist in my lap, and I fight to keep my breathing steady. He sounds disoriented and angry in his texts. If I visit him at the retirement home, will he refuse to see me? Will he know who I am?
Mom and Dad are both thankful I’ll be done dealing with the Institute, even if we have to go live in The Commons. I wish we could afford to buy a ticket so Mom or Dad could be here with me. Because there’s a little more at stake than simply boarding a plane. I’m flying toward a body that will be mine for the rest of my life—for better or for worse.
I clamp my arms around myself. There’s a potential it could be a lot worse. I’ll be put inside a Spare, a person who has murdered another human being or committed a crime that’s equally bad. I can’t even imagine how bone-chillingly scary it’ll be if I end up experiencing the strong emotions and images that could go along with a crime like that.
The memories could be bloody, grisly, violent.
My throat goes dry. As I reach for my in-flight juice drink, my Institute phone rings. I groan when I see who it is. Time for the official start of this whole Spares business.
Hey, Leo.
Your ERT is scheduled for 1930, Morgan.That’s late, but it can’t be helped given the short notice. The new Reducer for Jodine will be in Seattle by then. What I need to know is which Spare body to bring out of suspended animation for you, to make sure it’s ready when you arrive. I’ve gone through the database and selected some possibilities.
Thanks for letting me choose.
I have to warn you, there’s not a big selection. Especially if we try to match age, ethnicity, and gender. Which I think we should.
I wrinkle my nose.
Yeah. I definitely don’t want to be a guy.
We don’t have a lot of female Spares under 20. Images of the ones we have are on the attachment screen. I’ll wait while you look.
I expand the attachment screen. I have three choices. The first holo-image springs up, rotating slowly: the head and shoulders of a harsh-looking blonde with a square jaw and thick eyebrows. Not too feminine, except her eyes are a pretty blue. If she looks this harsh, I hope it doesn’t mean she’s more likely to have committed a really violent crime.
Once I’m inside her body, will some of the harshness of her expression go away?
The second image: a brunette with a pointed nose and narrow eyes. It seems I only have head shots to choose from, which is really limiting. I need an athletic body that can play paintball and jog in the park. I don’t want to give up those things because my new body can’t do them well.
I click on the third image: a girl with short sandy hair, her features washed out. She looks less harsh or sharp than the other two. The best option, if the body checks out.
None of the choices feel like me, but I’m stuck with making a decision. I suppose I could always let the sandy girl’s hair grow out and dye it darker if I want to look more like my old self. I’d probably also want to give myself a better haircut and use a touch of makeup. Funny, how different personalities inside the same bodies would likely change their appearance, to match their ideas about what looks good. I flick back to the screen where Leo awaits.
You’re right. There’s not a big selection. Guess I’ll take the third one, the sandy-haired girl. As long as she has an athletic body.
Great. I’ll send the order to the Transfer room.
I’d still like to minimize potential grisly residual memories if I can—or at least mentally prepare myself for them.
What did she do to get on death row?
Trust me. The fewer details you know about this Spare, the less anxious you’ll be. She’s gone, and your brainmap will make a whole new person out of her.
I try to swallow, and fail. Maybe he’s right, and it doesn’t matter which girl. They’re all on death row. I’ll have to pretend any residuals are fragments from a gross horror vid I’ve watched, or some recurring nightmare. It’s not going to be easy.
Can my name be Morgan Dey?
Of course. Since the Spares’ original chips are removed before suspended animation, they’re blank slates. We’ll simply transfer your data to a fresh chip and inject it. Your accounts will be reset to that chip and your new handprint. I’ll brief you more when you wake up.
Great, thanks.
I pause, my heart quickening. Leo’s being slippery again—he didn’t confirm the girl has an athletic body.
Wait, all I’ve seen is a head shot. I can’t sign a legally binding contract without seeing the actual entire body you’re putting me into. I want to check it out in person, not just on some dinky little holo-image.
There’s one of those awkward blank time-spaces.
You need to just trust me that she’s suitable, since we’re on a time limit here. If we don’t start the reversal from suspended animation
soon, there’ll be a longer wait before you’re inserted into your new body.
Trust Leo? He must think I have the mental capabilities of a paramecium.
I’m really sorry if the nurses and the doctor will be delayed, but I have to be sure this body can do the things I love. I want to have some sort of preparation for what I’m getting into. It’s not just about what I look like.
Oh…very well. It’s highly unconventional, yet this whole situation is beyond normal protocol. I’ll see you when you arrive for a brief detour to the Spares room.
Thanks much, Leo.
I end the messaging before he changes his mind, and let out a long breath. At the other end of the plane, the Kowalczyks remain absorbed with their screens.
I really hope this new body will turn out okay. Even not counting possible residual memories, who knows how long it’ll take before I’m comfortable inside its skin. I try to imagine myself as the girl I’ve chosen—attending classes, crawling into my bed every night, looking in the mirror each morning. Combing through that sand-colored hair. Eating SpeedMeals with Mom and Dad. Hanging out with Blair and Krista and Vonn.
Visiting Granddad at the retirement home.
It’s hard to envision myself doing those things, looking like that. That body is someone else’s, not mine. People are more than what their bodies look like, but my new appearance may change me a little, create a slightly different Morgan inside. Being in Jodine’s body sure has. Hopefully the core part of me will stay intact, and I can hold onto some version of me no matter how I look.
I’ve chosen to accept this Spare, and I have to make the best of it.
The jet plows on through the rainstorm. I can’t help grieving for my real body and my original Morgan self, curling my hand next to my face to shield my emotions from the Kowalczyks.
When the jet lands in Seattle, my face is dry and I’m composed, at least on the outside. We get out and hurry through a covered walkway to a waiting Institute car, its headlights glaring like yellow eyes in the dark, wet night. I slide into its roomy, tomb-like interior carrying my bag, and clutch it against my chest as Dr. and Mrs. K. get in beside me. I’ll need my bag when I become my new self tonight. The Clinic in Los Angeles gave me a set of smaller-size sweats to pack inside it, and I sneaked my new phone in before the flight.
