The room was round and enormous. Large lights ran the circumference, starting at the floor and rising to the ceiling. They lit the space with a sharp white glow. There was technology everywhere. Boxes, crates, gadgets and parts overflowed from industrial shelving that disappeared into the distance. Any items that were too big to fit had been piled wherever there was free space on the ground.
Besides a slight hum of activity that came from somewhere to the far right, the room was silent.
"What is this place?" Richard asked.
"Lab," said Morris.
Richard's gaze wandered over the mess. "That would have been my guess after garbage dump."
Morris stepped out of the elevator. When his boot touched the floor it lit up and the hum stopped.
Another noise, a whoosh, sounded to their left. Before Richard could search for the source a robotic eye was floating in front of him.
It was a white orb with eyelids and a sophisticated digital eyeball. It blinked while regarding both men. How it managed to stay in the air was a mystery – there was no sign of propulsion.
"Any trouble getting here?" asked the eye. Its voice was flat and mechanical.
"None," said Morris.
"No one followed you?"
"Of course not."
"The yellow box worked well?"
"It did everything you said it would."
"That's exciting news!" said the voice. "Follow the path to my location. It's time I met Richard Sobel."
The floor lights shut off - with the exception of a single line that wound its way through the piles of technology and then among the shelving. Morris started forward and Richard followed. The eye floated along beside them. As they moved deeper the condition of the shelves changed – shifting from a haphazard mess to more organized.
Every so often they would come to a break. At these spots there would be huge items. From Husks in giant clear tubes, to enormous suits of high tech armour or bizarre vehicles - the technology was humbling. They were impossible creations straight out of a dream.
None of it affected Morris. This clearly wasn't his first visit. But some of the things seemed hard to ignore. The real nightmare stuff – like heads floating in clear tubs, limbs with mechanical modifications and jars upon jars of blood.
Most unsettling to Richard were the piles of neatly folded clothing. He couldn't help but wonder if they once belonged to the former owners of the modified limbs or floating heads.
After some time the shelving stopped. What lay beyond was a large open area. In the middle was a raised white platform. On it was a cluttered desk and a chair. The tall back faced them, blocking out whoever might be working.
"Welcome Richard Sobel!" said a voice. It was the same one that came from the floating eye but less mechanical. "Were you impressed by the journey to my workspace?"
"It was interesting," Richard replied.
The voice chuckled. "Do you know where you are?"
"Not at all."
"Hardly the effort of a curious mind," said the voice. It held a note of disappointment.
"Actually – just no desire to play guessing games," said Richard. "At this point trying to deal with a fucked up life demands my full attention. Three days in and I've had enough."
"Is that why you didn't care about being caught?"
"How do you know that?"
"It's not important."
Richard sighed. Dealing with more puzzles was the last thing he wanted. "I wasn't built to be on the run."
"So settling for capture is easier than solving a mystery? That's a lazy decision."
"Maybe it is." Richard looked down at his feet and shuffled them on the white floor. "But there isn't much choice. I'm a doctor who specializes in body swap diagnosis, not a superhero. For the last few days I've been scared and confused. My life was destroyed by a mistake."
"A mistake?"
Richard didn't want to explain himself - but there was something about the voice that made him feel there wasn't a choice. So he stared at the back of the chair and waited to be asked again. The pause was welcome.
"Well?
"I lost my body." Richard's voice wavered when he spoke. Saying this out loud was unnerving. It made the loss seem more real and permanent.
"How does that happen?"
"You lend it to someone and they get killed while they have it."
"Now that's unfortunate. Of course, such a nightmare could only happen to a Locum. Which puts you in a select group. How does that feel?"
"Being part of the group or the loss?"
"The loss."
"Devastating."
"Why?"
Richard opened his mouth and stopped. Closed it and bit his lip. The simple question felt loaded. He thought for a moment before responding. "Because I've lost the only thing that was truly mine."
"Would you feel the same if you ended up in a body that was... I'll put this delicately - more glamorous than what you have now?"
"Pardon?"
"Your consciousness and sense of self are intact. The only difference is the container."
"That's unfair!" Richard shouted. He felt his face turning red.
"Is it really?" asked the voice. "It's hard to find sympathy for such an arrogant person. Your miserable qualities far outweigh the redeeming ones associated with your profession. You're nothing more than a whore, pimping your body to the highest bidder. Money's the main concern, the patient's wellbeing a distant second."
"What the hell?" Richard was startled by such a blunt statement. "Who the FUCK do you think you are?"
The chair on the platform turned. From a distance it was tough to make out details but Richard could tell the person who rose from it was male and not very tall – no more than four feet. Surprised, he looked over at Morris who remained still.
The small person moved around the other side of the desk and disappeared from sight. Footsteps echoed in the distance. Moments later he appeared at the bottom of the platform and walked toward them.
Richard was shocked to see it was a little boy – not much older than twelve. His black hair was cut in a bowl and sat atop a round, freckled face that wore an expression so stern it was unsettling.
As a father of boys similar in age, Richard was familiar with how they showed anger. This was nothing like it. There was no mistaking pure rage. It was the type that belonged on an adult.
When he was a few steps away the boy stopped. Hands in his pockets, face simmering, he looked up at Richard. At such close proximity the expression was even more disturbing.
"Would you like to know who I am?" the boy demanded. His voice was higher pitched than it had been over the intercom. "So you'll know exactly who you're dealing with?"
Richard could only stare. The boy was an absolute contradiction and it frightened him.
"WELL??!!"
Morris gave Richard a nudge. "Sure," he muttered.
The boy extended a small hand. "The name is Peter Sands."
Richard almost laughed out loud - the result of surprise and pure terror. Most pictures he had seen of Peter Sands were of a very old man - never a kid. And if he was still alive somehow as a kid that raised questions his brain couldn't even begin to process.
"You don't believe me?" asked the boy.
"I don't know what to believe anymore."
"Morris will vouch for me."
"Honestly, that's not saying much," Richard replied. "I've seen your buddy in action. He's no saint. For all I know this is a set up."
The boy squinted at Richard. "It took a lot of effort to get you here. Risks like that aren't made by Grifters."
"True," said Morris. "We're not much for wasting time."
"Christ." Richard reached up and rubbed his temples. "This is a lot to deal with."
"Really?" The boy lunged forward, grabbed Richard by the collar and pulled him down until their faces met. Then he reached around and slapped the Hotwire Port on Richard's neck. "What's this?"
"What do you mean?" Richard asked. The boy's strength surprised him. He couldn't pull away.
"WHAT IS IT???"
"A Hotwire port?"
"That I invented! Something meant to help people, not create celebrities!"
Richard barely heard a word being screamed. He was too focused on the creature in front of him. There really was an adult consciousness in the small body. Behavior made that clear, which created an even more uncomfortable situation. There were strict rules about swapping bodies with children. Very few Locums had authorization.
He wondered where the real owner of the little body was being kept and what he was being kept in.
"What are you thinking?" the boy demanded.
"Nothing."
"Bullshit. Something just occurred to you. I can see it on your face. Tell me what it is."
"Seriously. It was nothing."
"Fine." The boy relaxed his grip. This brought Richard's guard down enough that he didn't notice what was in the other hand until it was jammed into his Hotwire Port.
An electric jolt ripped through his body. Richard stiffened against it. The pain was unbelievable. The boy sneered.
The sting peaked, held, then stopped. Sands reached up and dangled the device in front of Richard. It was a small, white rectangle with a thumb switch on the side. "That was low, it can go much higher. This setting will feel like paradise in comparison."
Richard gasped for air. His stomach turned at the thought of what just happened and that it could get any worse.
"Now what were you thinking? And keep in mind, I'll know if you're lying."
This could have been a bluff but Richard knew it wasn't worth the risk of finding out. "I was wondering where you put the boy," he said.
"The boy?"
"The one your body belongs to."
Sands looked down at himself then back up at Richard. A smile played at the corners of his mouth. "Have you paid any attention to this place since walking through the door?"
The question made Richard glance at the platform with the desk on it then to the floor that was covered in technology he didn't recognize or understand. Sands watched him the whole time.
"There's nowhere else like this," he continued. "So with that in mind, why would I need to steal a child's body? It's too much trouble. Which leaves one option. Can you guess what that is?"
"I'm not an idiot," Richard said. "And I'm smart enough to know what you've done is very illegal."
Sands roared with laughter.
Richard looked at Morris. His face wore a smirk. In a way this was more suppose that's unsettling than Sands laugh because it meant he approved.
"What makes you think I care about laws?" Sands asked. "Haven't I proven that over the last few days? I removed people who were in your way, pushed others in the wrong direction and provided you with tools when you needed them. Honestly – did you really believe Alex Perkins could track down a Holosuit? His plan involved some goofy idea to smuggle you out of the City. At least that's what he told me before I took over."
Richard gaped at this. "Are you implying....?"
"I am!" said Sands. His face lit with glee. "I was there every step of the way - usually right beside you! Even Morris lent a hand. We started with Jackie Blair, then on to a Janitor, over to some housewife..." He cackled. "The list is long my friend! Alex was the last."
"You ruined my life?"
"Guilty as charged!!"
"How?" Richard started to shake, a combination of anger and disbelief. "And why?"
"The how of it is simple." Sands reached into his pocket and fumbled around. A moment later he pulled out a black rectangular box. A wire hung from each end. "Any idea what this is?" His eyes danced as he spun it in the air. He chuckled. "I not fair to ask – since they don't exist outside my world!"
Sands stepped forward and wagged the box at Richard with all the wile of a kid teasing his friend with a new, expensive toy.
"Looks like an old contraption called a Leech – it isn't one but I liked the simple design. I call it a Swap Box, not the fanciest name but does the trick. An on the road, in your pocket, HICOP machine!"
Richard's stomach dropped when he heard this.
"Unlike its Big Brother this only works in one direction. Simple to use though. Plug an end into your unsuspecting friend, the other into you, push a button and WHAM! The box erases their identity and transfers yours over. Best part? It's encoded to recognize the person holding it as the dominant identity, so I don't have to worry about mixing up the wires and figuring out what goes where!"
"Did you kill the people I'm being blamed for?"
"I like to think I displaced them."
Richard felt nauseous. "To where?"
Sands shrugged his small shoulders.
"Why?"
"Now that, Richard Sobel, is the question of the day isn't it?"
"One of many."
"Let me lay it out for you. The WHY of it isn't complicated – you've lost focus of what you are. As you can see, I'm a man of products – devices fascinate me and I've dedicated my life to creating them. I am in love with the idea of facilitating. You're indirectly one of my products – a facilitator of health. Your body may not belong to the Sands Foundation but your position does. And I'm ashamed of your behaviour."
"Bullshit!" Richard yelped. "I'm the best Locum the Foundation has!"
"I won't disagree. But I don't like what you've become. Locums were never meant to be arrogant, demanding celebrities. The technology was developed to make life better for people, not to line the pockets of self absorbed doctors. An example had to be made. You're a civil servant, not a rock star."
Richard stared at the young boy and thought about what he said. One question nagged at him more than the rest. "Did you kill Nickle when he was in my body?"
"Of course!"
"Was there a reason?"
"You bet! But the act itself was more important. Had to get things started. So I took away what defines you – your body. Locums sell knowledge, not appearance. Humanity gave into vanity once, and it's clear we're on our way to repeating the mistake."
"That doesn't excuse murder," Richard said. "You have no right to play God."
Sands laughed. "Who says? Look around you and look at the world! My inventions changed society forever."
"What about the families you destroyed?"
"Collateral damage," he said with a dismissive wave.
Richard hung his head. There was no reasoning with a maniac. Sands had certainly transformed the world with his genius but he was damaged. His God complex was terrifying. Even worse, Richard saw part of his old self in the behavior.
"What now?" he asked.
Sands clapped his hands together. "This is exciting!" he exclaimed. "We've worked hard to get here. Even with all my resources I'm still kind of surprised we pulled it off. There were wild cards I didn't anticipate - but we steamrolled over them! The greatest accomplishment by far was killing Nickle in your body. It confused everyone. Did it happen because someone wanted you dead? Or did someone know Nickle was in there and wanted him dead? That riddle kept my friends at Security nicely distracted."
"Yes it did," Richard said.
"They're likely onto my scent now. But that doesn't matter. We're gearing up for phase two!"
"And what would that be?"
"Getting your body back of course!"
This made Richard's heart flutter. The remark was unexpected and confusing. "It's dead."
"Sure is! So we're going to make you a new one!"
"Did you save some of my DNA?"
"Of course not! Where's the fun in that?"
"Then it's impossible."
Sands grinned and spread his arms wide. "Think bigger picture. There's a whole pile at City Security. Someone just has to go get it. And who better than the original owner?"