—7—
Eduard’s first regular job outside of the Falling Leaves had been high up on the outside of the mirrored skyscrapers. Wearing a mag-lock harness that attached him to support struts between windows, he hung far above the pavement. The swirling crowds and hovervehicles far below looked like colored pixels on a grid of the city.
Having fun, Eduard spent his days with a repair kit, zipping up and down one structure after another, sealing windows, patching cracks, strengthening blocks that showed signs of wear. Dangling so high made him feel alive, in stark contrast with his safe and calm childhood. For a while, he had felt happy and fulfilled … until his restlessness kicked in again.
His work partner, a lanky and unambitious man named Olaf Pitervald, had big-knuckled hands and scarecrowish arms and legs. His freckled skin flushed easily, and his pale hair was a colorless mass that covered his pink scalp. He had worked this job for years and never planned to change.
By himself, Eduard could cover the side of a skyscraper faster than the two of them could do it together, but Olaf liked to hang beside him in his harness. The lanky man spent more time in conversation than actually doing his job. “We get paid the same, no matter how hard we work.”
While Eduard diligently used his polysteel compound to patch chinks, Olaf would spy through the windows, hoping to catch sight of attractive female bodies. Safely anonymous, he made cat-calls, emboldened because he knew the women could never hear his words through the glass. He was single, probably because he’d never found the nerve to date.
Olaf pushed his face close to the glass, where a buxom teal-haired woman sat in a lobby area directing visitors. “How do you like that one, eh?”
Eduard had no idea whether a woman or a man inhabited the receptionist’s body. Some corporations simply rented sexy female bodies to act as living artwork in the reception areas; then they hired pleasant and competent employees to swap into those beautiful bodies during the workday. Before important meetings, some executives might even hopscotch with their secretaries, always careful to hide their ID patches, so they could eavesdrop on what their business partners might say before negotiations began.…
Suspended in his harness, Olaf loved to leer, letting his imagination run wild. Eduard laughed at his ineffectual work partner. “So save up your credits, rent yourself the body of a stud, and go date one of those women.” Olaf balked. He was stingy with his money and preferred imaginary conquests to risking actual failure. With a bemused smile, Eduard went back to work.
One day Olaf had hung in his harness next to Eduard and didn’t seem to want to talk, offering only occasional surly comments. Finally, Eduard said, “Either tell me what’s wrong or leave me alone.”
“Facial surgery. Dental prosthetics. I have to get three teeth replaced.” Grasping the harness with the crook of his arm, Olaf jabbed his fingers along his left jawline. “In here. They’re going to laser-cut some molars and install organic prosthetics. Too much enamel damage, easier to replace than to fix.”
“So?”
Olaf fretted in the harness. “I don’t like the idea of somebody cutting up my mouth … taking pieces of me out.”
To Eduard, minor surgery didn’t seem a terribly pleasant prospect, but nothing to be terrified about. “Are you worried about the operation itself? Or is it that you just don’t want to be there when it’s happening?”
Olaf moaned. “I want it to be all over with, and not have to sit through it and feel what they’re doing to me. What if it … hurts?”
Eduard looked over at his partner as they both swung high, high above the streets. He began to smile as an idea crystallized in his mind. “Hey, how many spare credits do you have?”
Olaf looked suspicious. “You need a loan, eh? I don’t lend money.”
“As a payment. You pay me, and I’ll swap with you. I’ll sit through your dental surgery for you. No fear, no pain. You won’t feel a thing.”
Olaf stuttered, swinging in the harness. “I don’t think so. I couldn’t ask that of you.… Uh, how much would I need to pay?”
“A thousand credits,” Eduard said, making up the number.
“What? I can’t afford that!”
“Yes, you can. Besides, if you swap into my body, you don’t need to miss a day of work. I’ll do it for you. No problem.”
Olaf looked sorely tempted, but torn. Eduard found this amusing and said in a teasing tone, “Hey, if you’d rather sit there all alone while they go into your mouth with their lasers, chopping up your teeth, ripping them out. Have you ever smelled burning blood? Smoke drifting from your mouth and into your nose?”
“I can spare you five hundred. That should be enough. It’s only going to be a few hours.”
“For five hundred, you can put up with it for a few hours. Or, for nine hundred, you won’t have to feel a thing until it’s all over.” He flashed a winning smile.
Sweat broke out on Olaf’s brow despite the cool breezes. In Olaf’s bleary eyes he could see that the other man desperately wanted to make the deal, and Eduard refused to haggle further. Nine hundred credits. Finally Olaf agreed.
The next morning, Eduard swapped with him, spent the afternoon in a stainless-steel polished office with all the high-tech surgery necessities: anesthetics, quiet music, scent-synthesizers that masked medicinal odors, and a competent dental surgeon with robotic assistants. It wasn’t so bad.
When it was over, after he’d been paid and they hopscotched back into their home-bodies, Eduard didn’t have the heart to tell Olaf that he hadn’t felt a thing. The nerve deadeners had worked perfectly, the surgery went exactly as planned, and Olaf still had to endure the miserable throbbing pains as his body healed.…
Afterward, Eduard realized the possibilities. He went by himself to Club Masquerade and stared at the complex Swapportunities Board, reading down the want ads, the requests for alternate bodies or partners.
Eduard simply listed himself and his services, and word got around.