Free The Changed Man by Orson Scott Card

back to her?” Barth asked his young self eagerly.
    â€œPerhaps. Or to someone like her.” And Barth saw with delight that the mere thought of it had aroused his young self more than a little.
    â€œHe’ll do,” Barth said, and Anderson handed him the simple papers to sign—papers that would never be seen in a court of law because they attested to Barth’s own compliance in and initiation of an act that was second only to murder in the lawbooks of every state.
    â€œThat’s it, then,” Anderson said, turning from the fat Barth to the young, thin one. “You’re Mr. Barth now, in control of his wealth and his life. Your clothing is in the next room.”
    â€œI know where it is,” the young Barth said with a smile, and his footsteps were buoyant as he left the room. He would dress quickly and leave the Fitness Center briskly, hardly noticing the rather plain-looking receptionist, except to take note of her wistful
look after him, a tall, slender, beautiful man who had, only moments before, been lying mindless in storage, waiting to be given a mind and a memory, waiting for a fat man to move out of the way so he could fill his space.
    In the memory room Barth sat on the edge of the couch, looking at the door, and then realized, with surprise, that he had no idea what came next.
    â€œMy memories run out here,” Barth said to Anderson. “The agreement was—what was the agreement?”
    â€œThe agreement was tender care of you until you passed away.”
    â€œAh, yes.”
    â€œThe agreement isn’t worth a damn thing,” Anderson said, smiling.
    Barth looked at him with surprise. “What do you mean?”
    â€œThere are two options, Barth. A needle within the next fifteen minutes. Or employment.”
    â€œWhat are you talking about?”
    â€œYou didn’t think we’d waste time and effort feeding you the ridiculous amounts of food you require, did you?”
    Barth felt himself sink inside. This was not what he had expected, though he had not honestly expected anything. Barth was not the kind to anticipate trouble. Life had never given him much trouble.
    â€œA needle?”
    â€œCyanide, if you insist, though we’d rather be able to vivisect you and get as many useful body parts as we can. Your body’s still fairly young. We can get incredible amounts of money for your pelvis and your glands, but they have to be taken from you alive.”
    â€œWhat are you talking about? This isn’t what we agreed.”

    â€œI agreed to nothing with you, my friend,” Anderson said, smiling. “I agreed with Barth. And Barth just left the room.”
    â€œCall him back! I insist—”
    â€œBarth doesn’t give a damn what happens to you.”
    And he knew that it was true.
    â€œYou said something about employment.”
    â€œIndeed.”
    â€œWhat kind of employment?”
    Anderson shook his head. “It all depends,” he said.
    â€œOn what?”
    â€œOn what kind of work turns up. There are several assignments every year that must be performed by a living human being, for which no volunteer can be found. No person, not even a criminal, can be compelled to do them.”
    â€œAnd I?”
    â€œWill do them. Or one of them, rather, since you rarely get a second job.”
    â€œHow can you do this? I’m a human being!”
    Anderson shook his head. “The law says that there is only one possible Barth in all the world. And you aren’t it. You’re just a number. And a letter. The letter H .”
    â€œWhy H ?”
    â€œBecause you’re such a disgusting glutton, my friend. Even our first customers haven’t got past C yet.”
    Anderson left then, and Barth was alone in the room. Why hadn’t he anticipated this? Of course, of course, he shouted to himself now. Of course they wouldn’t keep him pleasantly alive. He wanted to get up and try to run. But