This choice: A statement from the judge has to be read before you're re-skinned. • Go Back...Chapter #5A statement from the judge has to be read befor... by: Mr. George   The technician gestures you to gestures you to the transfer couch. Your lawyer bustles around seeing that you're being treated well. "So what's happening to my body?", you ask, "my old body?" you clarify.
She shrugs indifferently, "Probably destroyed to establish your death. They don't disclose these details to most people."
Her apathy irritates, and you take the chance to thank her for representing you. As you stare fixedly, deliberately, and obviously at her pert bust hidden beneath the well tailored jacket.
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"Thank you." She replied frostily, getting the message. "Everyone is entitled to counsel, and you paid the bills."
The pain of the last admission is clear in her eyes, more than your staring made her uncomfortable.
"However, I should point out, that as part of your new start deal, you were found guilty of all the charges you were facing. I negotiated the deal for you implicating those higher up the chain, and all the lower level subordinates you turned over."
Shrugging, you don't care. You'll be free of this body soon. Your entire life ejected, and all these consequences just a past that only you'll really know.
- - - - -
A nod from the technician lets everyone know he's finished fussing about with your leads. It feels like you're wearing a crown that's pinned to your head.
"I understand they need to check the connections now."
"Yes, ma'am." The technician at the computer answered over his shoulder.
"Sir, this might feel a little weird." He warns. His head tilted more in your direction.
There's a feeling of disconnection, that your extremities are more distant. You try to wiggle your fingers and toes. You can't feel them move, as you try to look down, the immobility holds your entire body.
"I can't move..." you blurt out. The panic clear in your tone, you're held in place as if sedated. Only capable of speaking, and blinking, as your eyes dart about.
"I did warn you, sir." The technician interrupts. His tone casually indifferent, you assume he's trying to be re-assuring, that this is normal.
"We need to map your brain to re-map it to your new body."
The sensation of distance remains, except this time you feel puppetted! Your fingers and toes wiggle, from the corner of your eye. You see the smile on the technician's face. "We have a connection."
There's a selection of confirming nods, and muttered agreements from the rest of the transfer team.
As your legal representative leans over the table, she caresses your immobile chest. Its only movement is the autonomous rising and falling as your breathe. You don't feel her touch, only sure it's happened as you saw it.
She lifts her hand pressing her forefinger across your lips. You take the hint, falling silent to allow her to speak. "As you know, I got you a new, healthy, younger body. In their twenties. But, I have to make a confession, you don't have free rein over the body..."
"Yes. Yes, I do." you protest, her finger failing to stifle you. It's oddly unemotional, lacking the force of outrage.
She bobbles her head, from side to side, as if weighing up options.
"Justice Sessions wanted me to wish you well in your future endeavours. She also wanted to warn you against being tempted back into your former activities."
«I won't.» You answer, control of your voice now stolen. The words refusing to come!
Your eyes dart wildly about, "Yes, this is the final stage, with you in dread terror, and utterly vulnerable." She leans low, muttering her words into your ear the vitriol clear in her voice. "Just like those who found themselves in your hands."  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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