Rent me: I am a young single woman in a country at war.
The perfect victim. Although it’s late for a rental, the neck of the body I hacked into itches as the chip connects to a new client. I accept, despite the timing, having learned long ago to pretend the customer is always right. Funny thing is, although I am a hacker and not a renter, it feels like my neck’s the one tingling to facilitate these electrical impulses across space. It might as well be.
No one is supposed to know there can be more than two, owner and tenant, crammed into one body. Partly a safety issue, partly compliance, really a question of location: where does my mind end and the other’s begin? But here we three are, renter, rentee, and me. I am outside the system, body and mind devoted to my country, evening the tally—one rental gone wrong at a time.
