Driving home from the lab - the smoke rising behind me and the last remnants of our entire project on the backseat of my car - was a nightmare. Every other vehicle on the road had me on edge. Was that guy following me? Were these guys boxing me in? I sped up, I took detours, I turned onto random driveways and just sat there until I could hear over my own heartbeat again. Any one of the cars around could suddenly start flashing red and blue, or maybe they wouldn’t even bother; maybe they’d just shoot me. Run me off the road. Nuke me from orbit. I was, predictably, a complete mess by the time I got home. I stumbled out of the car, imaginary helicopter buzzing in my ears and I ran around helplessly, looking for my passport and birth certificate, packing a suitcase with as much as I could hurriedly stuff into it, checking the windows for any approaching unmarked vans, freaking out as I realised all of the doors and windows were unlocked and then freaking out even more as I realised how much time I was wasting locking up the building when I needed to be as far away as possible as quickly as possible. Would they follow me out of the city? Absolutely. Out of the state? Probably. Out of the country? They’d probably try, even if - ESPECIALLY if - I went somewhere without an extradition treaty. I didn’t even know what countries that would include. I’d have to do some research once I’d found somewhere to hole up. After getting everything together, I briefly paused at the door. Should I burn the building down? It was my house, but I couldn’t stay here anymore. I could bring the equipment in and let it burn with everything else. That way even if they didn’t think I’d died in the fire, they would find the wreckage and realise it wasn’t worth chasing me unless they had nothing better to do than hunt me down for revenge. I really hoped that they had better things to do than hunt me down for revenge. And that was assuming I successfully set the house on fire without accidentally catching myself in the flames - I’d seen videos where plenty of idiots do just that out of carelessness. I could just picture myself misjudging or vapour diffusion of petrol or something like that. The thought of burning to death simply trying to cover my own tracks made me shudder, and I forced myself to calm down. Surprisingly successfully, too: I closed my eyes and took several deep breaths before looking around to take stock of my situation. Maybe I was overreacting. Maybe I was safe, or at least safe for now. All of the emergency service vehicles would be at the site of the burning lab, and if they were going to chase down employees, they’d have their work cut out for them finding all of us at once. And even then, they would have no way of knowing I had the last of the equipment unless they caught someone else first and got them to talk. I relaxed. It was going to be okay. Whatever happened next, I’d handle it just like I handled Jackson. Maybe luck wouldn’t favour me twice, but I’d last longer than I would have if I hadn’t caught him in the first place. I didn’t even jump when my phone rang. I just pulled it out, looked at the unknown number for a few seconds, and then answered. “Hello?” “Hey, it’s me.” Lena’s voice sent a sudden shiver through me. It was comforting to hear from her, but also a reminder that I couldn’t just meditate my way out of danger. “Lena,” I gasped. “Are you safe? Did you get away? Is anyone coming after us?” “Relax, Marcus,” she almost laughed. “We’re fine. I was just calling to tell you that. I’ve wiped everything from the cloud records, local backups, every trace that any of us ever existed and I’ve filled a few dummy systems with junk info, so if anyone does come after us, they’ll be chasing ghosts. Did you get the money I sent?” “Money?” My brow furrowed. I held the phone away and saw a deposit notification in my top bar. “You might want to check your balance,” I heard Lena say faintly. Putting her on speaker phone, I opened my banking app and signed in to find my checking account’s balance was at least two digits longer than I remembered it being. “Holy shit,” I breathed. “Surprise~,” Lena said. “A little golden parachute for the man who saved us from becoming mind-controlled zombies, or worse, knowing Jackson.” “No,” I said, shaking my head. “No, no, no, they’ll come after me for this.” “Marcus,” Lena chided. “Relax. This isn’t coming from the Lazarus Group. Well, not directly. They’ll never trace it to you because there’s no record you ever worked for them. As far as they know, the money was stolen by a hacker group in Russia, which I guess is technically true in a way. Or as true as it needs to be.” “Wait, what?” “It doesn’t matter. The point is, you’re safe. We’re all safe, thanks to you.” “Oh,” I said, giddy relief welling up inside me. “So… I don’t need to skip the country?” Lena laughed. “Only if you want to, though you’ll have a hell of a time getting our other little going away present through customs.” I frowned, remembering the equipment. “I don’t know why you didn’t destroy it with everything else.” “Let’s just say I had a good feeling about you,” Lena said. “Maybe you can salvage something from this mess and actually achieve something with it.” “Pass,” I replied. “Hard pass. I was going to leave it in the kitchen and burn the house down.” “Well, definitely don’t do that. I’ve hidden you from Lazarus, but I can’t save you if you commit fire insurance fraud.” “No, no of course not. Thanks to you, too. I had no idea what I was going to do to stay safe, but I guess I don’t have to worry about that anymore.” “Nope. Or at least, you’ve got a lot less to worry about than you did, say, twenty minutes ago.” “Yeah,” I said, permitting myself a faint smile. Lena went silent, and for a moment I thought she’d simply ended the call without saying goodbye. “Marcus?” “Yeah?” “Take care of the stuff we gave you, okay? And if we see each other again, it’s best to pretend we’ve never met. Just to be safe.” I was about to ask what she meant by “take care” but my phone display changed, showing that this time she had indeed hung up. I made myself a coffee before I dragged my case back to my bedroom and started unpacking again. To think I’d been that close to burning my own house down and fleeing overseas - as if I’d have made it past the check-in counter. It was an overwhelming relief that Lena had taken the trouble to cover for us the way she did: However heroic she may have thought I was, I wasn’t cut out for the fugitive life. I’d gone back to the car for my work case when I saw the equipment I’d been given, and after making sure nobody was around to watch me, I carried all of it inside and hid it in the basement. I’d have to bury it behind some furniture or something just in case anyone came in for a casual search, but at the time it was all I could do. Without any strength left in me and with the light of sunset fading outside my window, I collapsed into bed and passed out. * * * There weren’t any suspiciously unmarked vans or armoured cars outside my house when I woke up. No uniformed men with guns and helmets kicked my door down. Nevertheless, I lay in bed in complete stillness as I listened for the faintest indication that things were about to go to hell, but it never came. Morning came and went, and it wasn’t until the early afternoon that I cautiously peered out of my bedroom blinds to find my lawn and the surrounding suburbistan devoid of anything but the occasional decorative shrub. Not wanting to believe the previous day had been a dream, but also not quite ready to accept that it wasn’t, I checked the basement to find that yes, the equipment was still there. Still ready to be “taken care of,” or whatever Lena had meant for me to do with it. I didn’t deal with it straight away. I had a late breakfast. I washed. I moved all of my personal stuff out of the car and back where it belonged in the house. I caught a cab to the nearby shopping centre, depositing the cash I’d withdrawn the previous day at my bank. If the teller found the amount strange, they didn’t show it. I shopped for groceries. I went home. I paid my bills. I watched some TV. I ordered takeout for dinner. I went to bed. The closest I came to “dealing with it” over the next eight months was shuffling around some empty shelves and then loading the shelves so that it became quite impossible to see between all the bric-a-brac. It wasn’t until about a year and a half after that call with Lena that I remembered it. It wasn’t anything in particular that reminded me. The money hadn’t gone to waste - I’d invested it well enough that I actually had a bit more than I’d been given in the first place - but I guess I’d gotten bored of just doing my own thing. There are only so many jobs in the field of mind-controlling nanobots and despite Lena’s reassurances, I wanted to stay well clear of anything that might put me back in the company’s spotlight. So instead, I’d spent my time working on minor pet projects here and there and catching up on some hobbies that I’d neglected when I was younger. I was dozing in front of the TV when I suddenly shuddered awake, bathed in the amber glow of the late night shopping channel. What was I doing with myself? Strictly speaking, I had everything I needed, but was it everything I wanted? I grabbed a pen and pad and sat down at my kitchen table before writing in big, bold letters: “Long term goals:” I frowned. I’d been more or less spinning my wheels idly for the last eighteen months and in hindsight, I hadn’t really achieved anything. I was comfortable, but with the money I had and the freedom I had, I could be doing a lot more, right? I started to write down ideas and cross them out, one after the other. Charity? No. Travel? No. Politics? Absolutely not. Science? I was about to cross that one out too when I stopped myself. I’d given up on returning to the field in a professional capacity, but there was nothing stopping me from working on it at home, right? I still had the equipment downstairs, after all. TV forgotten, I went down to the basement to confirm that yes, everything was exactly as I remembered it and yes, I had everything I needed to begin experimenting on my own. I knew the dangers involved and the memory of Jackson’s betrayal hadn’t faded from my mind, but if it were just me running as a solo operation, that wouldn’t be a risk, right? It wasn’t as if I could backstab myself. The next few days were spent ordering and assembling furniture to turn a bare basement into a comfortably appointed office space, with all of the equipment laid out and powered on for use. It was with more than a little trepidation that I booted it up for the first time in over a year and signed in with an almost forgotten password. Seeing the company UI felt almost nostalgic, and my first action was to confirm that my nanites were indeed still inside me and still active. The confirmation that this was indeed the case filled me with a sense of unease, but it wasn’t surprising: We’d never programmed a limited life-span for them, after all. Just another unforgivable oversight from the project’s original designers. I made a mental note to add one later before running diagnostics on the remaining equipment, confirming broadcast, reception and construction functionality. I officially had my own working nanite minilab. The only question now was where to source test subjects. * * * “We haven’t had anything broken yet,” I explained to the young blonde woman. “But there’s a lot of teenagers in this neighbourhood and they act like they own the whole street, if you know what I mean.” Her name was Fiona; a college student attending classes in the city. “Yeah, for sure, for sure,” she said, looking curiously around my living room. “So, do I need to do anything if something happens, or do I just need to call someone?” “You just need to wake me up,” I said. “The device I’m testing keeps me in a very deep trance, so a smashing window or even a burglar probably wouldn’t disturb me, but if you press the abort button, I’ll snap right out of it.” I watched Fiona’s eyes light up. “Really? What are you working on?” “It’s proprietary,” I said, waving a dismissive hand. “I can’t say much just yet, but once I’ve completed testing and filed the patent, I might be able to tell you more. Are you studying to be a psychiatrist?” “Psychologist,” Fiona said, almost apologetically. “Didn’t get the marks I needed for a degree in medicine, but my friends are taking the same classes I am, so it’s not so bad.” “I see. And you won’t have trouble getting back here in time after class?” I saw a hint of panic pass over Fiona’s face as she raised her hands in reassurance. “Oh no, no, it’s totally fine. I don’t take any night lessons, so I’ll head straight here as soon as I finish.” I paused just to emphasise my point: “It’s very important that you be here on weeknights. You’re free to go out on the weekends, but from Sunday through Thursday from five o'clock until about eight, I need someone to watch the house while I’m working downstairs. Are you sure you can do that?” “Yes!” Fiona almost shouted. “Yes, absolutely.” I looked at her and saw the plight of myself and everyone I’d gone to college with struggling to choose between the expense of renting nearby and the expense of travelling from out of town five days a week. I’d offered her the spare bedroom and ensuite, plus use of the kitchen and living room for free on the condition that she pay for her own food, keep everything clean and watch the house after dark while I was working on my invention. A less desperate person might have been suspicious. Fiona had begun bouncing one leg nervously and I realised I hadn’t spoken in a while. “Alright, fine. You’ve seen the room - it’s pretty bare but I’ll let you move in any additional furniture you want if you get my permission first. I’ll keep the left side of the fridge free for you, but anything that starts to go bad is getting thrown out. If I have to throw your food out too often, then I’m throwing you out next, got it?” Fiona nodded at me before speaking. “Um, if it’s okay, I’ve got a mini fridge I can bring so I don’t take up any space in yours?” “Sure, but if I smell anything going bad, you’re still out.” “Yep, totally, thank you, mister Riley.” “And don’t call… actually, it’s probably best you call me that, at least for now. You can start moving your stuff in tomorrow. Your first shift is this Sunday, okay?” I saw her off at the front door, locking it behind her before immediately heading downstairs. I’d left the display on, and it now confirmed that a new subject was currently stationary fifteen metres away from my desk and ready to receive. It had been tough developing a way to safely aerosolise the nanites, but the effort had been worth it. As expected, Fiona had refused any offer of food or drink on her arrival, and any attempt to infect her once she moved in would have been difficult, especially if she had her own storage. Instead, I’d loaded a diffuser with a new variant I had designed and allowed them to permeate the room before Fiona had arrived for her interview. I’d lost maybe ninety-nine percent of the total deployed in the attempt, but Fiona had breathed in enough that a colony had been able to form in her body and was rapidly reproducing. Now it was my turn to be nervous, as I prepared myself to test a new function of the technology that now linked us. I made myself comfortable in the medical bed I had prepared and initiated the timer before lying down. I must have been counting too quickly in my own head, because I had a brief moment of worry that it hadn’t worked before all of my senses were replaced. Suddenly, I was no longer lying down in my basement, but I was sitting upright in the driver’s seat of a car, my delicate hands holding a phone with a rainbow phone charm. My manicured fingers were typing out a message, and I felt my heart beating rapidly in my chest as a kind of giddy excitement flushed through me. I watched as the messages played out: ---Yeah, he’s some kind of inventor or something. Wouldn’t tell me anything, but hey free rent, right?--- ---Good for you! Are you sure you’re okay though? Asking you to watch the house while he’s downstairs sounds sus af. I’ll be worried about you!--- ---Better than spending one more night under the same roof as Jayce. At least I can look for other places while I’m staying here. I just need a second to breathe.--- ---You should stay at my place! I’ll tell my parents you need help, you can stay on the couch! They love you!--- My hands hesitated as I seemed to consider the offer, and then suddenly I was back in my basement with two timers blinking their zero displays at me. Having my senses bounce between two bodies was extremely disorienting, but while I did feel a little nauseated, I was also shaking with excitement. I’d successfully been able to pull sensory data from a subject without taking control! And while I was vaguely worried about the alternative being offered by this other person Fiona was messaging, the solution was easy. I adjusted my settings to broadcast at the impression level while still drawing sensory information, then reset both timers before laying down again. The jump back into Fiona’s car was still disorienting, and I could see that she was beginning to consider taking her friend up on their offer. I began to press upon Fiona’s subconscious my own desire for her to stay and the confidence that it was the best thing to do. The result was immediate: Her hands froze as she was about to send her next message, and instead she deleted it before typing instead that she felt good about my offer and was going to start moving her stuff in. Satisfied that I’d made the necessary changes, I waited for the timer to expire and return me to my own senses. I had tried to figure out how Lena or Jackson had developed a recall trigger that activated based purely on the desire of the remote agent, however I hadn’t been able to design one that I was willing to rely on. The last thing I wanted was to be trapped as a passenger in Fiona’s head, possibly even transmitting my own panic into her as I tried to return to my own body. No. For the time being, a timed extraction was the safest option. Fiona spent pretty much all of Saturday moving furniture and personal belongings into the room I’d set aside for her. She pulled up in a van with what I assumed were family or friends from college - I didn’t hang around long enough to talk to any of them, I just said hi and headed straight for the basement. Most property owners might have hovered over proceedings, or even tried to help to make sure there wasn’t any damage, but I had another pair of eyes on events, as it were. I hadn’t expected Fiona to exert herself physically, given the two well built boys she had enlisted, so I was surprised to find myself in a body straining with genuine effort and clammy with sweat. It was strangely unpleasant to be experiencing a kind of discomfort that was typically self-inflicted but with no way of actually stopping it. The dresser came down with a thud and I felt the tension leave Fiona’s shoulders as she shook some feeling back into her hands. It felt strange to be in a much younger body, and I tried to focus on the sensations of youth and ignore the sensations of being female. Her friends repeatedly expressed disbelief that she was getting the room more or less for free, warning her that there had to be some kind of catch. They had no idea how right they were, and I made sure Fiona didn’t suspect as I continued imprinting the desire to stay on her subconscious. One of her friends - Julia, the one who had been texting her the day before - joked that maybe Fiona had a thing for me, and while I felt Fiona’s instinctive cringe, I wasn’t able to stop myself from feeling a little excitement at the suggestion. This bled into Fiona’s own emotions, forcing her to trip over her denial and I felt the blood rush to her face as her friends began to tease her relentlessly for the next ten minutes. I decided against any further manipulation for the moment, watching the rest of the move go by without any major issues until the timer expired and I came back to myself, feeling comparatively fresh compared to the sweaty state Fiona’s body was in when I left her. I returned outside holding a tray of cold glasses of water, which everyone gratefully accepted. They were infused with nanites, naturally - nothing I’d be able to make use of once they were out of the extremely limited range my equipment gave me, but it would be handy if any of them came back. I saved a smile for Fiona as I handed hers over, and I saw her face redden as she glanced away, her friends chuckling amongst themselves. With their job done, Fiona and her friends left to return the van to whoever’s parents they had borrowed it from. I’d given Fiona a key to lock the room with, and while I had a spare, there was nothing to be gained by taking the unnecessary risk of snooping around. Not when I could achieve the exact same thing later through her own eyes. I could barely sleep from the excitement of finally being able to give my variant of the technology a thorough test without any danger of interruption and on a subject that wasn’t explicitly aware of the testing environment. I was just wondering at what point I should eventually tell her the truth when I fell asleep.