Whatever you do, you need courage. To map out a course of action, gain the right rune, and follow it to an end requires some of the same courage that a soldier needs.

  ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

  Dressed in tan, cotton slacks and a white blouse, Marilyn rang the doorbell at her friends Walter and Gladys’s house. A maid answered the door and showed her to the back patio.

  Instead of sunning their gorgeous rental bodies in skimpy swimsuits like the last time she had seen them, the couple sat in padded chairs under a wide awning near the pool.

  Gladys was arguing with her nurse about some medication, while Walter sat hunched in front of a small table piled high with official-looking documents. Two men in suits flanked him, and they were talking heatedly.

  When Marilyn arrived, Walter rose to greet her. He looked haggard, with deep circles under his eyes.

  While Gladys had been restored to her own aging body, his had been destroyed in the fire, so Alterego had provided him the body of a convict. It looked young and fit and the tattoos were easily covered by his shirt.

  Seeing the two of them together drove home the tragedy for Marilyn. Despite claims by Alterego that they would set everything right, they could never restore Walter to his former self. He was stuck in a different generation than his wife, and would be doomed to watch her die in a few years while he would live for decades.

  As the horror of it settled over her, she fought to hide a wave of tears by giving Walter a fierce hug. Then she knelt beside Gladys and gently embraced her.

  “How are you?”

  Gladys managed a weak smile, but Walter growled, “We’re in a right mess, Marilyn. Look at us.”

  “Is there any hope?” she couldn’t help but ask.

  “I don’t see any.” He dropped back into his chair. “I mean, I’m sure I could find some old guy willing to swap with me, but the technology was lost. No one knows how to do it any more.”

  “They’ll think of something, dear,” Gladys said with forced confidence.

  “I hope so. In the meantime, it’s a legal fiasco.”

  “Have you heard any more news from the congressional hearings?” Marilyn asked. Although her contract had been lost in the fire, no one had yet contested her ownership of the young body she wore.

  Walter was not so lucky.

  He waved at the piles of legal documents on the table.

  “We’re mired in a mess that’ll take years to clear up, and threatens to consume all our life savings. In the meantime, there are hundreds of lawsuits out there. There’s no precedent for this, and no one even has the final count of the dead. All the records were lost.”

  Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

  “I heard the family is suing you.”

  “Just one of the suits we’re facing. Turns out, the program to loan convict bodies to Alterego was technically only a provisional agreement, and none of the convicts actually agreed to take part. Now that it looks like all of the convicts involved not only had their bodies somehow stolen from them, consensus is that they’re all dead.”

  “How does one steal a body?” Marilyn asked with a frown. “They would have to be transferred into another body, right? Whose bodies were they using?”

  Gladys gave a weary sigh. “No one knows.”

  “It’s such a murky, confusing mess, shrouded in lies, half-truths and claims of proprietary secrets,” Walter added with a growl. “Thankfully, Mr. Fleischer is cooperating more than anyone expected, and some of the donors have been making statements.”

  “I saw an interview with Jill. She owns the body you rented, right dear?” Marilyn asked.

  Gladys nodded with a wistful sigh. “Such a beautiful body. It was my favorite.”

  “And the donors aren’t limited by the same legal shackles most of the company’s senior staff are hiding behind,” Walter added.

  “Have they shed any more light on how the convicts were used?”

  “Not enough. Most of the donors knew little of the actual holding process, but one of the techs suggested that the company had developed a way to hold a consciousness outside of a body, at least for a while.”

  “How? Why? That seems incredibly dangerous,” Marilyn gasped.

  “Yeah, and it’s highly illegal, especially when the convicts never signed up to be used as guinea pigs for those trials,” Walter said with a grimace. “Mr. Fleischer is supposed to testify today about that and a bunch of other questions.”

  “I hope he helps them resolve some of the insanity,” Gladys said.

  “If only,” Walter said with a tired sigh. “The families of the poor convicts are rightly pissed off, and the federal prosecutors are suggesting they might charge Alterego executives with kidnapping and murder.”

  “I can’t imagine that will make them want to talk,” Marilyn said.

  “Probably not, but the families need answers, and some of them are turning against those of us who ended up wearing the bodies of their loved ones, even though it was not our fault. The family of Jim, the guy whose body I ended up with, filed for wrongful death, but life insurance companies don’t know how to react. Do they count him as dead, or me? His consciousness is gone, but his body is living. My body is dead, but I’m still here.”

  Gladys added, “It’s legal insanity. According to the courts, they’re still trying to decide who poor Walter is.”

  “And if they decide I’m really Jim, then his family is preparing to sue me for child support!”

  Marilyn didn’t know how to respond. She hadn’t considered all the legal issues hovering just under the surface of the rental program. She’d only ever focused on the fantastic gift of being young again.

  “At least you have clear legal ownership,” Gladys said to try to steer the conversation to a happier topic.

  “Yes,” she nodded, but couldn’t help adding with a sniffle, “But when Bill learned the truth, he left me.”

  She’d started dating Bill shortly after beginning her 3-month rental. She’d never imagined she might have another chance at a new relationship, and had been swept away in the excitement of it. She never worked up the courage to explain to Bill that she was really a 75 year-old widow.

  It shouldn't have mattered, not now that she owned this young body permanently, but the truth had been too much for Bill to deal with.

  “Oh dear, you poor thing,” Gladys said, and opened her arms for Marilyn to come for another hug.

  “He doesn’t deserve you then,” Walter said harshly. “You’ll find a better one, don’t worry. Any man in his right mind would want you.”

  Gladys whispered into Marilyn’s ear, “After I’m gone . . .”

  Marilyn recoiled, shocked by the implied suggestion.

  Gladys gave her a sad smile and whispered, “Don’t be such an old lady, Marilyn. You’re the only person I know that I’d feel comfortable for Walter to marry after I’m gone.”

  Walter grimaced and turned away, but Marilyn still caught his anguished expression. The situation was simply too horrible.

  Through an unspoken agreement, they turned the conversation to more mundane gossip. Marilyn excused herself a few minutes later when the nurse reminded Gladys it was time for her afternoon nap.

  As she slipped behind the wheel of her Cadillac, she wondered at the marvelous gift of youth she’d purchased.

  Was it a gift, or a curse?