"We can't put your brain into a larger skull without problems of all kinds cropping up. Another thing is the size of your body. You are small, and would have much difficulty adjusting to a larger body. You would be extremely awkward, among other things. Frankly we are con- cerned."

Hope began to fail. I asked how long I would have to wait and he informed me that it could be months. "A body has to be healthy in every respect, for brain transplanting," he continued, "and there aren't many deaths of this nature taking place. There is another prospect, but I want to discuss this with you confidentially. Wait until Mr. Marshall is taken care of, and then we'll talk. All right?" I agreed and they went through the procedure from A through Z with Jess. He had to authorize the transfer, which he did readily.

The time passed slowly. My mind was buzzing over what had taken place. Would they find a body I could use until mine was cured. If they did, would I have to spend all of my life in this strange body? What would I look like to myself? After twenty-two years of looking at Barry Newbill in one body, how would my brain react to seeing another face in my mirror?

I lost track of the conversation over Jess. I could picture myself in the six foot body of a track star; or in the more muscular body of a boxer. Maybe they would find me a body that was older, and I would be bald, or the possibility existed that I would find myself in a body that was fat and out of proportion?

My imagination began to border on the ridiculous. Maybe all they would be able to get me would be an old man's worn out body. Then I would have just a few years at most to live. How would I perform sexually, I wondered, with my young brain cased in a frail old body that was past it's best days where sex was concerned?

What would my girl friend Julie think of my new body? Now that was a question that I had to stop and think about. Would she be able to love me even though I didn't look like myself? Would we get married after she completed college, as we had planned? The thought of five foot two Julie sent me into deep contemplation. She was twenty now, I decided. We were engaged when I left Earth for Mars and she said she would wait. Did she? I hadn't heard her name mentioned. The isola- tion kept every outsider away. In worry over myself, I had forgotten her.

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