Xchange

by Stan Mason

  ‘Are we really talking about people who are useful to society or about those who can afford to pay for the exchange... rich people who simply want to sell their souls like Faust?’ criticised another Governor with a tinge of anger in his voice as he recognised the evil aspect of the experiment.

  The voice of another man cut across the room. ‘Is this experiment being carried out in America?’

  Jordan shook his head vigorously. ‘No,’ he responded swiftly ‘It’s a totally British project and secrecy bars it from being operated across the Atlantic. Naturally, as soon as we’ve achieved some elements of success, we’ll contact certain people in the United States who will also carry out the operation under strict secrecy. The public must never know what is going on.’

  The room erupted once again as the Governors began to argue the point with each other.

  ‘Gentlemen... gentlemen!’ interrupted the government agent, raising his hands to silence them and to gain their attention. ‘There’s a great deal of good to come from this,’ he explained curtly. ‘You hold long-term prisoners in your jails whose bodies will simply waste away in the effluxion of time. By this process, we can put them to good use.’

  ‘I’m willing to accept the situation with regard to prisoners who have been handed down life sentences, but I cannot agree to those who will eventually be released,’ intervened one man seriously. ‘Is twenty year of prison servitude sufficient to take away a man’s body from him... or perhaps fifteen... or maybe as little as ten?’

  ‘There will be a White Paper setting out all the details,’ stated Jordan bluntly. ‘At first, we intend to exchange only those who are serving a life sentence with no option of remission or parole, preferably in the younger age bracket, say, twenty-five to thirty-five. The younger the better for obvious reasons. You’ll receive this information within the next few days in an envelope marked ‘For Your Eyes Only’ However, I must impress upon you the need for utter secrecy at all times. The men selected for exchange from your penitentiaries will be transferred to another destination as yet unidentified. Only a small number of inmates will be transferred from each of your prisons. In that way, no one will notice anything unusual occurring within their environment.’

  ‘Why weren’t the two women Governors invited to this meeting?’ asked another man inquisitively.

  ‘Because it was considered far wiser to experiment on men in the first instance,’; came the answer. ‘As such, it was felt that the less people who knew about the project, the better.’

  Nor surprisingly, Jordan was forced to field a host of questions from most of those in attendance and reason out the answers during the afternoon. Bill Preston remained completely silent during the whole meeting. He recognised the value of the project and considered that it was a useful scientific advance. In the first place, many chosen eminent people in the country would be granted a new lease of life. In the second place, he resented the fact that the taxpayer had to fork out money to pay for the keep of prisoners who never contributed in any way to the economy or for the benefit of the community, many of whom would he executive if capital punishment was put into place If exchange took place, as Jordan predicted, it was likely that the health of the long-term criminals would deteriorate rapidly as their new ageing bodies and they would die much sooner than expected. This would east the pressure on the Governors and the warders, saving a great deal of money for the Treasury, In Bill Preston’s opinion, the criminals were the scum of the Earth and deserved any hardship they would come by. To his mind, the new process was absolutely perfect in every way.

  ‘How does the process affect the two people involved,? ’demanded one of the Governors anxiously. ‘Do they feel pain, or discomfort, or anything at all?’

  ‘Both participants are given a sedative before the exchange is carried out,’ explained Jordan authoritatively. ‘Neither man will feel pain or discomfort of any kind. By the time they wake up, and the sedative has outrun its life, the exchange will have taken place.’

  ‘But after the exchange has taken place successfully,’ subjected another man earnestly, ‘the affect of the brain on the new body will be horrific. You can’t have nerves feeding a body which has been removed and then replaced.’

  ‘That’s the advantage,’ continued the government agent calmly. ‘It appears that on transference, there is no change in brain activity. It still believes that it’s in the same body.’

  ‘Can we witness the process of transference for ourselves?’ enquired another Governor sombrely.

  ‘Yes!’ cut in another one firmly. ‘We’d like to see it happening for ourselves!’

  ‘I’ve already arranged for a time and place for that to happen, ‘ uttered Jordan, clearly ahead of the game. ‘However you must realise that this is a government directive. Despite your fears or doubts or feelings that it might be an act against humanity, it will be done.’ He paused for a moment as the hubbub continued before raising his hands to re-establish silence. ‘I’d like one of you to recommend a candidate for exchange,’ he went on thoughtfully. ‘Then you can all see the process in operation.’

  ‘I have one!’ shouted Preston vociferously over the noise being made by the others. He’s a murderer... for life with no chance of remission or parole. A man by the name of Robert Muswell who’s thirty-seven years of age. He’s been in prison for eight years. I think he’d make a fine candidate.’

  ‘Who will you match him with?’ asked another Governor with a sense of urgency

  ‘I’ll get back to you on that one,’ replied Jordan turning his attention to Preston. ‘Bring him to the ASA Headquarters at Lytham St. Annes in to day’s time at two o’clock in the afternoon. All of you are invited to come and watch the event.’ He paused for a moment to recollect his thoughts and then concluded his delivery. ‘By the way, I’ve arranged fro refreshments to be set out for you in the dining room of this hotel if you wish to enjoy them. That’s all I wish to say at this time. Good day, gentlemen!’

  Without delay, he switched off the overhead projector and left the room leaving the Governors to debate the issue at their leisure. Preston considered that Muswell was an ideal candidate for the experiment,. He had been caught when breaking into a house to steal goods and, armed with a revolver, he shot and killed five people in order to make his escape. He was captured as a result of the father of the family emerging from his bedroom armed with a rifle and shooting Muswell in the thigh which prevented him from getting away. This did not stop the burglar from shooting the father in the head, killing him instantly, In a rage, with blood pouring from his thigh, he ran upstairs to shoot the mother in her bed. He then proceeded wilfully into the other two bedrooms killing the two sons and a daughter for no reason whatsoever. Although he had pleaded guilty to the charge in Court, the Judge had no compunction than to sentence him to life imprisonment with no hope of remission. Fate had forced him to spend the rest of his life in Lanchester jail... until this stroke of fortune came along. Losing most of the years of his life would save him from the continued suffering. If he had known what was in store for him, that his life would be considerably shortened, he would probably have welcomed it gracefully. It was far better to die much more quickly than to be caged up day and night, in chains, for the rest of one’s life. However it was also essential for him to be transferred to another penitentiary, mainly due to the fact that his appearance would certainly show him to be much older.

  The day of the experiment arrived and Muswell, heavily chained but guarded by Preston alone to ensure that secrecy was maintained, was taken to the ASA Headquarters at Lytham St. Annes. It was a complex building with a myriad of corridors, each section dealing with some new form of modern invention. Preston walked along the wide stone-flagged corridor, guided by one of the staff, with Muswell limping alongside him. When they arrived at the appropriate room, the Senior Warden faced the other Governors who had come to watch.

 
‘This man is limping!’ complained Jordan as they entered.

  ‘You didn’t say you wanted a perfect specimen,’ retorted the Governor sharply. ‘He was wounded in the thigh whilst carrying out a burglary by the man he killed. That was the reason why he wreaked his vengeance on the rest of the family. But I thought you simply wanted to transfer his youth.’

  The government agent pulled in his horns and turned to introduce a politician of great public renown.

  ‘This is Sir Isaac Weller,’ he announced. ‘His reputation goes before him... not least the fact that he is a Member of Parliament for Glasgow East. He has been an assistant in the Treasury for over fifteen years. He is eighty-three years of age with failing health and he is looking forward to being thirty-seven again. I believe that’s all you need to know for the present. Now... if you will all follow me!’

  He led them down another corridor which brought them to a laboratory where two glass cubicles had been set out on a small stage. He then pointed to three rows of chair inviting them to sit down before nodding to a scientist wearing a white overall who came forward holding a hypodermic syringe which he plunged without warning into Muswell’s arm. The prisoner who until then had remained silent, hoping for the opportunity of finding a means of escape, growled at him angrily at the onslaught.

  ‘I’ll have you as soon as I get the chance!’ he threatened gruffly, moving his arm at the pain and soreness he had experienced.

  He was placed on a chair as the serum made its way through his body and everyone waited a short while before Jordan spoke again.

  ‘Unchain the prisoner,’ he ordered.

  There was a buzz of resentment as Preston unlocked the fetters at Muswell’s feet and then removed the handcuffs. However, the prisoner was, by then, in an almost comatose state, leaning forwards and backwards on the seat in order to control his balance with a glazed expression in his eyes. Two men in white overalls removed the clothes from his body and he was placed standing up in one of the cubicles .and strapped in tightly. A long grey metal coat containing hundreds of electrodes was placed tightly around his body from the neck downwards as the Governors watched with baited breath.

  In due course, when the scientists had finished sealing the metal coat, the door of the cubicle was closed shut. The same procedure was then carried out on Sir Isaac Weller who had previously been injected tenderly with the same serum to cause him to fall into unconsciousness. He was quickly disrobed similarly to Muswell and, shortly, the door of the second cubicle was closed. Thereafter, darkened glasses were handed to all those in attendance before the current was turned on. After a short while, a hum could be heard echoing throughout the room, gaining in decibel value with every passing minute. Everyone stared at the two cubicle which suddenly burst into dazzling light, far too strong for the naked eye, as the current surged through the electrodes attached to the bodies of the two men. After fifteen minutes, the lights flickered and faded and became extinguished as the current was turned off. One of the scientists opened the door of the cubicle of the politician and eased him out gently. The man staggered forward in a state of shock, his eyes staring at the observers vacantly without recognising them, and he was placed on a stretcher laying out full length before being covered by a blanket.. Muswell was then pulled roughly out of his cubicle and placed on a wooden seat where he was dressed. When this had been done, Preston attached the manacles to the prisoner’s hands and then attended to the chain around his ankles. However it was quite clear, before he had been dressed, that Muswell’s body was that of an old man. His face was exactly the same but the rest of him had been changed considerably. He was no longer thirty-seven years of age. Far from it because the experiment had been an entire success.

  Jordan raised his hands to silence the Governors who were ready to swamp him with questions and he removed the blanket covering the politician on the stretcher.

  ‘You’ll observe that the body of Muswell has been transferred to Sir Isaac,’ he began jubilantly. ‘Notice the smooth skin, the solid frame, the relative youthfulness of the body. On the other hand, the prisoner has the body of an eighty-three year old man. Sir Isaac will now be able to resume an excellent career for another forty or fifty years. The prisoner may have only a few months or a few years at the most to survive. The nation benefits with a double whammy!’

  ‘How many of these experiments do you intend to carry out?’ asked one of the Governors clearly impressed with the procedure.

  ‘As many as there are long-term prisoners in jail,’ came the answer. ‘I reckon at the end of the day we’re talking about two or three thousand perhaps.’

  Preston led Muswell away slowly. The prisoner, still in a state of shock, tottered forwards into the corridor like an elderly man to be returned to another jail with which he was unfamiliar. Sir Isaac was allowed a little more time to come round. When he stood up, he limped across to one of the chairs and sat down heavily.

  ‘Why do I have a limp?’ he asked with a puzzled expression on his face.

  ‘Because your partner in crime, the one with whom you were exchanged, was shot in the thigh by one of the people he murdered.’

  ‘Couldn’t you have found someone with a more perfect body?’ complained the politician unreasonably for someone who had been granted another forty years of life.

  ‘Beggars can’t be choosers,’ retorted Jordan bluntly. ‘Be satisfied with the additional length of life you now have.’

  Sir Isaac looked somewhat disgruntled at the reproach. ‘It’s just as well the exchange is only from the neck downwards,’ he retaliated irately. ‘Lord knows what would happen if it were complete.’

  However the government agent’s comment was sufficient to silent him. Indeed, accompanied by the limp, he had another forty years ahead of him That, in itself, would be enough to satisfy any candidate in relation to the exchange!

  ***

  Perhaps it was not surprising that Muswell collapsed three days later suffering a sudden severe heart attack. The stress of going through the arduous process of being exchanged with another body had put too much strain on his heart and he suffered a cardiac arrest which proved to be fatal. In an ideal world, his passing would have gone without recognition or recourse but, in real life, incidents occur out of the blue which are totally unexpected.

  One day after Muswell’s death, Tim Burton, a prisoner who had been a friend of the deceased in Lancaster jail, received the information from the inmate who had contact through the satellite on his wife’s mobile telephone. The news of his friend’s demise surprised him greatly for Muswell was fit and strong, hardly a person who would succumb to a fatal heart attack. They had been very close friends, allied despite the austere conditions at the jail, sharing whatever they could with each other. Subsequently, after hearing the news, Burton became incensed and uncontrollable, breaking the rules of the prison by rattling his metal mug against the iron bars of his cell and shouting abuse at the top of his voice at the warders. When one of the warders arrived to find out what was going on, Burton remonstrated wildly, yelling that he insisted on seeing the Senior Warden urgently on an extremely important matter. Normally, Preston only saw the prisoners when they first arrived at the jail, reading them the Riot Act before they were taken away to their appointed cells. When one of the warders approached him saying that a prisoner insisted on an audience with him, the expression on the Senior Warden’s face turned sour.

  ‘What the hell does he want to see me about?’ he snarled frowning deeply. ‘Can’t you handle him, whatever he wants?’

  ‘I’ve never seen him like this before, Governor,’ declared the warder. ‘He’s raging... going crazy... insisting on seeing you. He threatens that if he doesn’t, he going to send the story to the media and anyone else who might be interested.’

  ‘How can he do that?’ enquired Preston somewhat puzzled. ‘You’d better check the cells for mobile phones, althoug
h I don’t know how one could have been smuggled in here... unless one of the warders is responsible.’

  ‘I don’t believe that to be the case, sir,’ returned the warder with a sombre expression on his face. ‘We check for anything like that constantly.’

  ‘Very well,’ conceded the Governor. ‘Bring him to me but you’re to remain with him all the time in case he has another agenda in mind. Is that understood?’

  The warder nodded and went away to return shortly with the prisoner who stood before the Governor with an angry expression on his face and body language which indicated his fury.

  ‘I understand you’ve some kind of complaint,’ began Preston staring hard directly into the eyes of the inmate who was still shackled by the wrists and chained by his feet.

  ‘You bet I have!’ snapped Burton angrily with hate seething from his eyes. ‘What’s happened to Gimpy? That’s what I want to know!’

  ‘Who’s Gimpy?’ asked the Senior Warden, puzzled by the other man’s question.

  ‘Bob Muswell! That’s who! The one who had a limp! He died yesterday just after being transferred to Blackstock jail. Why was he transferred when he was here as a lifer... and how did he die. There’s something really fishy here and I’m going to get to the bottom of it. He was only thirty-seven years’ old.’

  ‘How do you come by this information?’ demanded Preston with a tinge of annoyance in his voice.

  ‘That’s nigh nor by!’ retorted the prisoner sharply with fury building up inside him. ‘It smells to high heaven. I want to know why Gimpy was transferred and the reason why he died!’

  The Governor bridled at the repeated request and he slammed his fist down hard on his desk to silence the other man.

  ‘Enough!’ he shouted. ‘There’s nothing for you to know. Go back to your cell, Burton. I don’t want to see you again! And if you cause a fuss, I’ll take that as a sign of bad behaviour and place you in solitary confinement for twenty days. So I advise you to take care!’