Free Offshore by Lucy Pepperdine

it wasn’t abandoned, merely … unoccupied.
    Someone
would come back, if only to check it was still in one piece. When
that would be, he had no idea, but come they would. All he had to
do was have a little patience.
    The
newly formed nostrils in the sleeping face flared as he remembered
the smell of oil and grease and dirt as he gathered together
whatever he could to make himself a rudimentary nest in the darkest
corner of the room - packing blankets, dust sheets, tarpaulins –
and settled down to bide his time in hibernation, until rescue
came. Or to die. Whichever came first.
    Twelve
hours of careful recombination and readjustment later, it was done,
reconstruction complete, apart from a few minor points which would
put themselves right in their own time.
    A
languorous sigh, a stretch, a yawn, and from where the scabby
unhealthy rat/dog creature had lain down to rest a large naked man
now rose, his flesh the colour of unbaked clay, mottled with blue,
the patches of prickly black fur shed and replaced with fine fair
hair. The once open weeping sores were all but healed, closed over
with silvery pink patches of new skin.
    The man
got to his feet, a little unsteadily at first, and inhaled to the
full capacity of his lungs, filling them with cold fresh air. He
swung his arms and circled his back, stretching like a runner
before a marathon, encouraging blood to circulate and bring a
healthy bloom back to his newly acquired human hide.
    The sense of being out of that disgusting un-form, neither
his nor the rat's but an unwholesome mixture of both, was not just
one of freedom, but of pure jubilation.
    This new
body was young, muscular and coursing with testosterone, and suited
him well indeed, like slipping out of tight uncomfortable dance
shoes and into a pair of soft and pliable carpet
slippers.
    He could
stretch his limbs and move freely, and he could think again. He had
a new set of memories to add to his own, ready to explore, a whole
new library waiting to be read.
    Euterich
ran his hands over himself, down his smooth hairless chest, over
the expanse of a hard well worked stomach, down between muscular
thighs to a nest of dark blond pubic hair and to his genitals,
somewhat disproportionately small for a body so large.
    Experiencing a brief pang of disappointment at what he found,
he thought maybe the chilly air might have contributed to a certain
degree of … shrinkage. It had certainly brought out goosebumps on
the rest of his naked skin. Once he warmed up maybe things might
look a little more appealing.
    He had
been cold for long enough down in this hole, it was time to seek
warmth and a little comfort, to see what else Lonny’s life had to
offer. He took a few steps around the room to get the feel of
moving about in human form again. This body was big, bigger than
any he’d had before, and it would take a little getting used to,
but it would do … for the time being.
    Picking
up Lonny’s identity badge he examined the details on it.
    “ Lonny Dick. What an unfortunate name, my friend. I bet you
were the butt of many a jest, weren’t you?” he said. His voice
sounded oddly feeble after an age of neglect, and he cleared his
throat and swallowed saliva to lubricate it. He practised a few
words as he gathered up the hapless Lonny’s remains into a plastic
tarpaulin, adding the mighty wrench for ballast, and tied them up
with the makeshift leash.
    While he
worked Euterich searched the memories he had transferred from
Lonny’s mind to find out why the man had been down in the equipment
dock last night all by himself. He found it easily enough - beer,
dope and hard core porn.
    Lonny,
he discovered, was not quite the dim-witted imbecile people took
him for. Behind his façade of simple-mindedness lurked a devious
criminality. Not only had he managed to smuggle several dozen
bottles of strong lager aboard in one of the shipping containers,
and a plentiful supply of cannabis in his equipment bags, he also
imported a