Prologue
Five Years Ago
Snapping the last piece into place, I wipe a bead of sweat from my forehead as I admire the culmination of years of work. The design is anything but elegant, but the guts are good. I’ve reviewed the science with a group of people I found on the internet, so you know they’re legit.
What is attractiveness if not elementary genetics gone right? All I have to do is take the basics of gene-editing and ramp it up a little. Or maybe a lot. Surely nothing can go wrong with that. And it will be worth it. Not only will I look like the man that I’ve always been on the inside, but I’ll have made such a breakthrough in this field that people willhave to take me seriously.
Goodbye Creepy Carter.
Double-checking everything, I question my decision for the first time. There will probably be side effects. There always are with this kind of thing. Muscle and joint pain, definitely. A headache seems to happen with every procedure. Personality changes? Well, no one has given my personality much of a chance anyway, doubt anyone will notice. Vision changes? Likely. Maybe I’ll need some slutty little glasses? There’s always a chance of death. I’ve calculated the odds, and it’s unlikely, but not completely impossible. Assuming I survive, it will be worth it. That’s what I need to focus on.
I start my meditation playlist. It’s a recording of the spadefoot toads. Growing up here, I’ve always thought their mating calls were sort of soothing in an “it’s so loud you can’t think about anything else” sort of way. It’s nice as long as you don’t focus on thefact that it’s a recording of a literal orgy. Not sure what that says about me.
With my calming soundtrack in place, I can focus on the positives again. No more teasing. I’ll finally get the respect that I deserve. This town is constantly evolving, and without me, no one would be able to keep up with the changes.
Sure, they could hire a cartographer to regularly update maps the old-fashioned way, but my body changes with the town. As soon as Sheet-y relocates, my flesh is updated, and it’s up to me to let them know where to find it. Every time a new shop opens, or a new family moves into town, my body updates instantly. No cartographer could keep up the way an O’Graffey can. Yet, most of the town completely ignores me. Takes me for granted. Well, that ends now.
No more Mr. Nice Map.
With a new level of resolve, I adjust the dials on my Get-Hotinator. It’s programmed with my DNA and the exact changes to make. There’s no reason tothink something won’t go the way I’m planning. I grab a piece of paper and write a note, just in case.
Taking a deep breath, I step into the machine and lock myself in. It’s now or never.
There’s a blinding light and then pain, so much pain, before everything goes black.
Chapter one
Grim's Bakery
Mappy
“Good morning, Mabel, you look especially radiant today.” I flash her a smile as I take my spot in the middle of town, posing for all to see. She mumbles something in response as she unlocks the door to the Visitors’ Bureau. It’s a little foggy this morning, so the morning dew glistens on my muscles as I flex and move, giving everyone directions. I catch my reflection in the window. Damn if I don’t look amazing today.
“Mappy!” Tillie rushes toward me, breathing heavily. “Where’s Sheet-y? I’m running so late!”
Opening my wings to their fullest, I let her examine my body. “Take a breath, darlin’. You know I always got what you need.” Confident that the damned store isn’t on my forearms, I place them behind my head to make my pecs look even better. She scans my body, eyebrows furrowed. “Need to take a closer look? Feel free to touch the topography.” I wink at her. Her frown turns to a smile when she finds the store, oddly back at its original location. It’s almost never there.
“Thanks, Mappy!” she says, scurrying off. Shoot. I meant to ask her to set aside another notebook for me. No matter how many I buy, I can never find one when I need it. The things are harder to keep track of than Sheet-y's.
After a few hours of work, I decide I’ve earned a lunch break. It takes a lot of fuel to keep these muscles in peak physical form. Now, where to go? Checking out my reflection in the window again, I consider my options. I don’t have time to make it toRatcliff’s, not that anyone really keeps track of my hours. I just take my duties as town map very seriously. There’s Birds of a Feather? I prefer eggs in the morning, and they got really mad the last time I tried to catch a chicken for some reason. Grim’s it is.
Strolling down the street, I whistle to accompany the frogs. I try to harmonize with them, but they keep mixing up their tune, making it hard to follow. I wonder if maps have mating calls like frogs? Too bad there aren’t more of us around to ask.
Swinging open the door to Grim’s, I’m about to say hello when I hear hushed voices.
“I swear, it was him.”
“No one has seen Carter in five years. Are you sure?” My skull throbs at the sound of that name. It’s so familiar, but I can’t remember why. Do I know Carter? The more I think about it, the more my head hurts.
Clearing my throat, I make my presence known. “Grim, can I get theSpadefoot Special? To go?” I need to get out of here and clear my head.
Grim smiles, makes my sandwich, wrapping it in paper and putting it in a bag. “Need anything else, Mappy?”
“Nope, that’s it. Thanks!” I hand over money and practically sprint out the door across the street to the park. It’s not like a six-foot map with wings blends in anywhere, but at least here, no one will pass by me on the street and ask for directions.
Taking a bite of my sandwich, I try to sift through my memories to find a Carter, but my head starts pounding again. Probably best to think about something else then.
Chapter two
