A Simple Trade

Turns out Patrick is a bust. His powers aren’t permanent, or even close to what I need. Temporary astral projection to body possession – useless. I make the note about what he can do in my small black leatherback notebook, then I draw a neat line through his name. ‘Sorry,’ I say to him, ‘I don’t think you can help me.’ I snap shut the book and give him a vague smile.

‘Oh, uh,’ he nervously slicks his greasy hair back, ‘are you sure?’ He leans in to whisper. ‘If it’s a sex thing I’m sure you’ll be surprised.’ Ew. Fuck off. That’s the second one… out of two, since meeting Red.

I just scowl at him. ‘No thanks.’ I turn my back and walk away from him down the street in the direction I came.

Red-Thread, my new acquaintance, quickly catches up to me. ‘Okay, so that guy sucked as well. But we can do this, trust me. Who’s next on the list?’ He’d told me his pseudonym came from that Chinese myth about the red thread that ties everyone together, then mentioned the whole six degrees of separation, yada yada. Good on him for being proactive about it or whatever. Terrible as the name Red-Thread is, Nolan’s powers let him telepathically connect to people that other people have come into contact with. I’d hoped it was going to be more useful.

I open the book while I walk. Can’t risk saving this information in anything technological given how illegal my end-goal is. I don’t entirely know what the government would do to me if they found everything out, prison, torture – we’ve all heard the rumours. At least this way if I come across a technomancer policeman I’ll be safe. Any kind of telepath and I’ll be screwed, but that’s the world we live in. ‘Her name is Sylvia, and you mentioned the street-name Glance,’ I say.

‘Yeah, gotcha. I also got another potential from that guy: Julian. Also goes by Slide.’

‘I’ll add him to the list.’ I write the names as best I can while walking. I’m glad to have this kind of helper on my so-called quest. I certainly feel vulnerable walking around stuck in the body of a seventeen-year-old girl, not that I’m yet to know any different. Having five-foot-ten worth of man following me around makes this endeavour simpler. Before meeting him, I’d needed to be much more careful, not to mention the lack of his powers had made it painfully slow talking to people and convincing them to tell me about someone who might know someone who might be able to help me. At least it only took two months to find Nolan. I’d hoped for more, but he has so far led me to two people with powers who are at least in a similar vein to what I need. ‘As of just now, there’s six more to meet.’

‘How goes the search?’ I read the message from IsotonicImpulse – my online friend and future partner in crime, literally. When we’d originally come up with this plan, we’d shared a lot about ourselves with each other. His real name is Jarvis, and he was also the first person to call me he/him. In the old days, and sometimes even now, people choose their own names, but neither of us will have that luxury. It costs the kind of money neither of us have.

I message back. ‘Lots of dead ends, but I met someone who’s part of some underground group. They gave me a name and tomorrow I’m meeting him. I’m hopeful.’ They mustn’t be there because I don’t instantly get a message back. ‘There’s only two more names on my list though, so if I run through them, I’ll be back to square one. How is your dossier going?’ I look over at my own collection of information. Everything we’ll need to know, all in one very vulnerable place. Mine is a real paper scrapbook – something easy to burn once this is over. Any discovered evidence would be the end of us.

As I walk towards the pub, I see Red-Thread loitering around the front door. His face lights a little when he sees me. ‘Isla, you’re late.’

I grunt. ‘I got held up with my Mum. I’m here now.’

‘Good, because he’s already waiting for us.’ He starts to lead me inside. ‘Public place – this guy is more professional than anyone we’ve met so far.’

‘Should we be worried? You said his name is Snatcher. Do you know anything else about him?’ I ask.

He shakes his head. ‘I don’t. Dylan the other day didn’t know him very well, just that he can body hop. We’re lucky he’s still wearing the same body I saw him in.’

As we approach the table, I see a Chinese-Caucasian man halfway through a beer. I’m underage, but I won’t be drinking so there shouldn’t be a problem. He puts his glass down and stares at us. He looks tense, ready to bolt or something. ‘Are you my meet?’ He says before we’re too close. ‘Who sent you?’

‘Dylan,’ Red says quickly. ‘He told us about you.’

‘Aye, good. He mentioned you need my professional services.’ His accent doesn’t match his look. Not that I’m trying to judge. My native Aussie accent probably doesn’t match my Hispanic look. My mother barely even has her accent unless she gets angry or talks to her parents – a rare event.

‘What exactly are your professional services?’ I say in a low voice. One wrong ear is all it would take.

‘Please take a seat.’ He motions to the seats in front of him. We do as he says. Though I don’t lean back in my chair. I’m not comfortable; no one is. We just wait for his answer. ‘My abilities allow me to jump between bodies as I please, displacing the soul of the person I jump into.’

‘So their mind ends up in the body you were in?!’ I say a little loudly.

He makes a motion for me to shush. ‘Permanently, yes. Unless I directly swap back with them.’

‘That must cause some chaos.’ Nolan comments.

‘As for my professional services, anything is for sale. Use your imagination as to the extent of that.’

I can’t contain the smile on my face. ‘So you could effectively swap two people’s bodies, just by jumping around a couple times?’ My fingers twist amongst each other in nervous excitement.

He seems to think for a moment. ‘A touch mundane, but yes, that can be done.’

‘What kind of price would you charge for such a plain request?’ I ask eagerly. It’s not like we’re asking for an assassination, so it surely cannot be too expensive.

‘Thirty grand,’ he answers quickly.

My jaw drops. ‘For a simple trade like that?’ I’m utterly bewildered. I wonder if I’d be better to do this all legally.

‘Yes. The cost covers both our discretion. It’s my base rate. For anything more complicated it would get increasingly expensive.’ He leans back in his chair and sips at his drink. ‘I’m a professional. It’s also above the amount that police or special forces can borrow for sting operations without special approvals.’

‘I see,’ I say uncomfortably. I suppose I understand the requirement for that. Makes him much harder to catch or trap. For someone who earns so much money he’s dressed very casually. The money my parents make has me dressed better than him. ‘Is there number you can give me, or a way I can contact you? I’ll need some time to get the funds together.’

He pulls a business card from his jacket pocket, then slides it across the table. Very professional indeed – a hitman with a business card. All it has is Snatcher written in black letters and a phone number underneath. ‘I’ll need at least a week advanced knowledge when you have the money together.’ He stands up and straightens his jacket. ‘Until then…’ he walks off without another word, his beer still with a sip left behind. Red and I look at each other.

‘So is that it then? Are we done?’ Nolan asks when back out the front of the pub.

‘I guess so. I mean, if it doesn’t work out, I’ll be in touch, but otherwise, thanks for your help.’

‘Sure thing.’ He smiles and turns his back to head off.

‘Hey, Nolan?’

‘Yeah?’ He turns back.

‘Why did you decide to help me for all this time?’ I’m fiddling with my fingers again.

He shrugs. ‘You needed a friend… and, I guess I’m looking for something too, just not sure what yet.’ He smiles again then walks off. I let him go this time. My own smile feels confused and I walk off with a shake of my head.

‘I think I’ve found a guy.’ I send the message to Jarvis. ‘But from the sounds of it you’ll have to give up your powers. Are you okay with that?’

I stare at the screen for a moment. ‘I’d take that deal in a heartbeat.’ – IsotonicImpluse.

‘The other downside is he wants thirty grand for it.’

‘Is that all? I’ve already pulled out that much in cash.’ Well, I didn’t expect that reaction. I’m so glad he agreed to fund this whole operation. Without him I’d have nothing.

‘Okay. So, should I set up the meeting?’

‘Yeah, do it. We’ll get our dossiers finished and everything should go smoothly.’ Fingers crossed.

No one in my family could lend me a car so I had to take the train. I stare out the window, idly wondering about what this future is going to be like. I decided to dress up for the occasion. A dress that I’d never have worn if I weren’t about to escape them forever. High heels too, shudder. When I reach my station, I hop off and start the short walk to the coffee shop in question – the location we’d agreed to meet.

I walk in the door and he already has a seat. I join him and neither of us says anything for a moment. We just sit, admiring each other, getting an outside perspective. He doesn’t look like he longs for a different life. Tall, well built, masculine. ‘Now that we’re meeting,’ I say, ‘…I know we won’t really have to talk about each other much, but you still want male pronouns?’

He nods quickly. ‘Until afterwards, yes. I never came out or tried to transition, so while I’m like this I think it would just make me uncomfortable.’

I smile. ‘Still he/him for me please,’ I say.

‘Absolutely. Are you still okay with losing seven years’ worth of life?’

‘Definitely. Still okay with losing your powers?’ He has simple fire powers, but because they’re destructive class he has to go through a lot of government bureaucracy just to avoid jail.

‘For this trade? No question.’ It seems we’re really doing this. My excitement can’t contain itself. ‘So Snatcher, hey? Do all black-market back-alley power-dealers have street names?’ he whispers.

‘Yeah, of course. All the good ones at least.’ I notice the briefcase next to him, holding the cash that’s about to set us free. ‘Thanks for funding this, by the way.’

‘No worries. It’s no real loss for me anyway. All my savings are going to be yours now. That’s the point of this – wouldn’t be a true life-swap otherwise. It’s only twenty grand, but it’s not nothing.’

‘Wow! Thank you! That’s so amazing.’ Enough to start a new life, for sure.

Finally, the time comes and we make our way a little down the road to a back-alley meeting spot behind a closed clothing store.

‘This is the spot,’ I tell him, ‘Trendi. It should be down here.’

‘So what now? Just wait?’ He asks.

‘I suppose so.’

It doesn’t take long before I hear behind me, ‘You must be my eleven o’clock.’ I turn to see an unfamiliar man with dark skin and darker clothes. He’s in a different body, but it must be him. Or it could be a her, I guess. Looks can be deceiving.

‘Are you Snatcher?’ I ask, just to be sure.

‘That’s me. It’s Isla and Jarvis?’ When I’d officially set the meet he’d said he needed our first names, but that was basically it.

‘That’s right.’

‘That the money?’ he nods to the case in Jarvis’ hand.

‘It is,’ Jarvis says. ‘So how does this work?’ he opens the briefcase for a moment to show Snatcher the contents then puts the money on the ground in between them. The three of us are left standing roughly in a triangle.

‘It’s fairly simple, but it’s not quick or clean, which is why I can’t work for the government. Not that I’d ever want to. The fee is the same if you want to swap back.’

‘Okay. What do we have to do?’ I ask impatiently and he appears confused. ‘Like just stand here, or…?’ I try to prompt. I suspect he’s not done this before. Not for this purpose at least.

‘Oh yeah. You’ll feel a bit lightheaded after each swap, and I’ll need to jump three times to get back and have you both where you wanna be. The light headedness is because your soul kinda has to make its own way somewhere else while mine, knowing what it’s doing, pushes its way in.’

‘Let’s do it then,’ Jarvis says.

‘Okay.’ Snatcher rubs his hands together then touches Jarvis on the shoulder. Snatchers body wavers, looking dizzy. Then Jarvis’ body touches me on the shoulder and I’m hit with vertigo. As my vision refocuses, I notice the differences. Is this what it is to be tall? I can feel my new junk between my legs. The clothes sitting on my body pull tight in different places. I feel strong. I look over and see what must now be Jarvis in my old body. He, now she, is grinning ear to ear. ‘My work here is done. Feel free to meet each other anew.’ Snatcher picks up the briefcase and walks off. How odd.

Watching my old body touch itself is surreal. I’m doing the same, so I can’t judge. It’s unbelievable – after all this time, finally the bodies we belong in!

‘Hi, I’m… Jarvis.’ I stick out my hand, testing out my new deepened voice. I love it!

She returns my handshake. ‘Hello Jarvis,’ she says softly, ‘I’m Isla.’