If you can’t fly then run, if you can’t run then walk, if you can’t walk then crawl, but whatever you do you have to keep moving forward.

  ~ Fortune Cookie

  On the way to the lab where she planned to do whatever it took to get transferred to another body, any other body, Sarah ran into the water aerobics instructor. The woman took her arm despite her protests, and led her down to the pool.

  It was time to exercise the old body and Sarah was on the clock, so she had no choice. She could not risk giving Mr. Fleischer any more leverage against her.

  She tried to exercise, but her old body was shaky, disoriented as it reacted to the adrenaline pumping through its old veins in response to her fears. How could they do this to her? All she wanted was her body back, and then she’d be gone forever. She’d saved enough money for the early buy-out.

  Could they really take her body away? The thought was so terrifying, it left a gaping hole in her gut that sapped her strength and pushed her to the verge of tears.

  She’d been able to handle being a donor only because of the dollar figures clouding her vision. When not on the clock, she got to use young, fit bodies that were decent temporary replacements of her own. Could she be satisfied in one of them forever?

  She shivered to think how close she’d come to caving to Mr. Fleischer’s demands, and doubted she’d do any better the next time they met. Now that she had a little distance and time to think about it, she could not agree to give up her body forever.

  Could. Not. Do. It.

  So what could she do? She had no illusion that he’d accept her denial. He’d bully her until he got what he wanted. Or, if she gave him too much trouble, would he forge her signature and lock her away?

  He could do it. There was a holding area in the sub-basement, referred to only as the ‘vault,’ where they held convicts whose bodies were used as extras for donors while their own bodies were being rented. She’d never been into the vault, but didn’t doubt there was room in there for her.

  No one would ever know. Only the head surgeon and her assistants entered the vault. Sarah doubted that even Tomas had ever been in there. She had no close family, no one to raise the alarm if she vanished.

  Her parents barely spoke to her, and her brothers knew nothing of her current situation. Alterego could lock her away forever and use her body as they saw fit, and her family would just assume she stopped reaching out.

  She could not escape. Realization struck like a slap in the face. She was a prisoner. No, a slave to Alterego. They hid the fact with hefty bonuses, but the truth of it stole her strength and she nearly fainted. She barely managed to get to the edge of the pool as her aged body shook in response to the mental anguish.

  “Are you all right.” a young attendant asked.

  She helped Sarah out of the pool and wrapped her in towels, watching her closely. The last thing the company wanted was a damaged renter’s body.

  “I’m fine,” Sarah managed. “Just don’t have it in me today.”

  The young woman smiled at her like she was really an old lady and steadied her on the trip back to the locker room.

  This can’t be happening.

  Then a ray of hope illuminated her soul and drove the near-panic back a few steps. She smiled as the idea took root.

  Of course. The government auditor was there in the facility.

  She’d heard something about the visit the other day, but hadn’t paid much attention. Apparently there were powerful critics of the corporation lobbying congress to abolish the practice of human body rentals. The debates were heated and the auditor, along with a medical team, were visiting the facility to prepare a report for the congressional committee handling the issue.

  The auditor could help. All Sarah had to do was explain the situation to him. He could force Mr. Fleischer to honor the terms of the contract, or threaten congressional action if he didn’t comply.

  Sarah nearly laughed with relief. Mr. Fleischer had picked the wrong day to threaten her. Her resolve firmed with renewed hope. She would escape this place on her terms.

  Chapter 5

  Conan

  You should never let your fears prevent you from doing what you know is right.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  ~ Aung San Suu Kyi

  Sarah awoke and sat up, blinking away the last vestiges of the sedative, frowning at the fragment of the dream she’d been having. All she could remember was a blue screen floating above her in the air with her F-factor rank in huge, slowly blinking red letters.

  “Weird,” she muttered.

  She couldn’t remember anything else, but those blinking red letters had come with a sense of foreboding. No, it was more a sense of longing, as if she’d been desperate to get a higher score in her dream.

  Usually, she would have ignored the silly dream, but with her heightened fears about potentially losing her body forever, that dream had affected her more than normal. She had actually had similar dreams before. Or at least, she had seen glowing screens with her F-factor score on them, wisps of memories as she woke up from transfers.

  They had never included that sense of desperate longing, though. It didn't make any sense. She was number five, one of the top ten donors. All of them had F-factors of F5 except for Jill, who was the only F7.

  How she got the higher score, not even Jill knew. The body renting program was so new, using a technology that had never existed before. With body donors came the need to rank them. Hence their Face Values and F-factor ranks

  Somehow they were related. The Face Value score made more sense, at least to Sarah. It was a ranking that took into account a donor’s physical beauty, grace, and all of their physical attributes that would make them a candidate for the program.

  The F-factor was slightly different, and less defined. The company leaders described it as their wow factor, the ability of particular donors to command higher prices, generate more excitement among the renter population, and drive demand for their bodies.

  At one level, that made sense, but the implementation of the score seemed weird. All of the donors, whether they were in the top ten or the top one hundred, had an F-factor somewhere between F3 and F7. No one with an F-factor below F3 ever made it into the program, even though some of those failed applicants were easily as beautiful as those who did make it.

  Only Jill was an F7, so how they ranked everyone else between A3 and A5 and thought that was sufficient to differentiate them, Sarah had no idea. Usually she ignored the rankings, especially the F-factor, because it was so non-intuitive. So why would she dream about that number, with a feeling that she needed that number to grow somehow?

  “Get your head together, Sarah,” she told herself.

  She had bigger problems to deal with than fiddling with her rank. As soon as she got her body back, she’d be gone. She'd never have to worry about her face value or F-factor again.

  Banishing the lingering worry from the odd dream, she glanced down at the young body she now wore, wrapped in a hospital gown, and breathed a huge sigh of relief. She closed her eyes for a moment and savored the feeling of youth and health. It had never felt better to get out of that decrepit, old biddy.

  She dressed quickly, grateful that she again wore the same model she’d been using in recent days. It felt almost natural after so much time with it. New bodies were always a little strange at first, a little awkward, as if her consciousness needed a little time to fit into the new physical form.

  This one gave her very little trouble. She’d grown used to its balance, height, weight, and proportions, even though nothing felt as good as her own skin. When she returned to it after a rental, it was like slipping into her old, favorite jeans that had contoured themselves perfectly to her from countless hours of use.

  Would she ever get it back?

  Yes! She strode from the transfer lab, but instead of heading for the exit to the rest of the facility like normal, she turned left and moved deeper into the transfer complex. Mr. Fleischer had said they were going to show the auditor the facility, so he had to be down there somewhere. All she needed was a few minutes of his time.

  The transfer facility was extensive, with a dozen transfer labs, medical facilities that included a level II trauma center, more than one hundred lavishly-outfitted individual rooms for renter bodies when they were not being exercised, staff rooms, and more. Hidden underground beneath the rental offices, it burrowed six stories down into the bedrock.

  After half an hour of fruitless searching in which she didn’t dare ask anyone for help, she decided to return to the lobby near the bank of elevators. No matter where he might be squirreled away, the auditor would pass that way eventually.

  Within ten minutes, the double doors at the far end of the hall swung open for a group of people. At seeing them, Sarah’s heart sank. Mr. Fleischer strode at the front of the group, smiling like the Cheshire cat.

  ‘Conan’ followed him. The tall, handsome, hugely-muscled body was Mark’s. He was currently the number one male donor. Known as a super-athlete, his body had been rented for many different sporting events and had always performed remarkably.

  Flanking ‘Conan’ were Dr. Maerwynn, the head surgeon, and Jill, who now wore a voluptuous young body that Sarah recognized as ‘A Night to Remember.’ She was hanging on Conan’s arm, wearing an athletic outfit that accentuated her spectacular figure.

  As the group drew nearer, Sarah started in surprise as she recognized Conan’s face.

  The auditor.

  Sarah’s hopes fell. The auditor was beaming like the boy who had just scored the winning touchdown. His eyes moved constantly from his reflection that kept pace in the hall-length mirrors, to Jill who was smiling at him like he was the center of her universe.

  His weak face didn’t really fit Conan’s head, looking stretched and unnatural, but he didn’t seem to notice. He grinned and flexed his biceps in the mirror. Jill ran a hand down his arm and leaned against him to whisper something in his ear.

  He laughed loudly and wrapped an arm around her slender waist. “This is the most amazing thing I’ve ever experienced. How is it possible?”

  “The science is a closely guarded secret, as you can imagine, but Dr. Maerwynn will cover the process at a high level in the conference room this afternoon,” Mr. Fleischer said with a wide smile. “But first, why don’t you go take that model for a spin? We have extensive fitness facilities. Jill will show you around.”

  The group paused at the elevators and Mr. Fleischer cast a hard look at Sarah, but did not speak. She stood mute, rooted in place until the elevator doors closed behind them.

  Then she fell into a nearby padded chair and buried her head in her hands. This could not be happening. The auditor would never help her now. Mr. Fleischer had bought the man just like he was trying to buy her.

  He’d seen her. Did he suspect what she was trying to do? What did it matter? He’d effectively cut off the only hope of escape.

  “Sarah, are you all right?”

  She glanced up in surprise to see Tomas approaching, his face concerned. “Are you crying?”

  She wiped her face with one hand and lied, “No. Just resting.”

  Tomas gave her a long look. “Do you need anything?”

  She sniffled. “Yeah, a miracle.”

  “What?”

  “Never mind.” She jumped out of the chair and ran for the elevator.

  Tomas watched her go, his expression grim.