Inside Your Mind

I decided to take up Teresa’s writing prompt, which you can check out here: https://maplesswanderer.wordpress.com/2020/01/03/daily-writing-prompt-3/

The prompt:

Your challenge today, should you accept it, is to explore the future and the possibility of mind swapping. Write your take on the science fiction subgenre of Mind Transfer and see where it leads…or whatever/wherever the prompt takes you. There are no word limits or requirements of any kind. Just see where the picture or genre takes you and have fun.

I found the prompt here.

Now, while I’ve written science fiction before (and it’s one of my all-time favourite genres), I have never done nor considered writing anything to do with mind swapping. But the prompt sounded like a fun challenge, so *takes deep breath* here goes:


Broun clutched his chest as coughs rattled his body. He felt something being clasped to his face and something cool and very much needed being pumped into his lungs.

Oxygen.

Though there was no point. The leukemia was too far advanced for any hope of recovery. And that was just as well.

Cause the operatives were closing in.

And if they found him before the leukemia claimed him…he shuddered at the thought of them discovering his secrets. The hidden papers. Though, if they did find him before his time, he would die on them out of spite. There was nothing they could do to keep him alive to work out the location of the papers. Even his health issues went beyond anything that they could cure.

And he should know – he used to be one of them.

“Car…Carlos…” Broun rasped, trying to speak without bursting out coughing. His beloved butler and friend leaned over him.

“Yes?” Carlos asked, his voice and face betraying no trace of any emotion or regret. I taught him too well, Broun thought.

“Is the patient still alive?” Patient was the term they used for the human specimen that Carlos had nabbed from the streets. Carlos nodded. Broun breathed a sigh of relief, momentarily closing his eyes. “Plug me in. Transfer the data to the patient. He,” and he briefly coughed, “he can carry on as me.”

“Will he realise?”

Broun went to shake his head, but that was too much for him at the moment. “No. Since you’ve wiped his own memories, he’ll never be able to figure out that he’s not me.” Carlos nodded, satisfied and reached over Broun to get to something behind his bed. Soon Broun felt a prick as Carlos began planting the sockets to his cranium.

The patient would complete what he couldn’t. The patient would take the fall – not him. The patient would keep the papers and the secret safe.

He, Broun, was safe.


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