we were studying a less developed borg colony on an apparently abandoned 
industrial planet, trying to learn more about their history and identity. 
ostensibly we were here just to find out what they were doing here, but the 
opportunity to learn more about the borg and their technology was too great to 
pass up. these borg were not like the rest, which i suppose is what drew us 
here. they are more ... colorful.

things had been underway for several weeks, and i was making progress 
deciphering the workings of their sensorimotor translation device. bits of it 
were understood well enough to perform a simple test, forwarding the sensorium 
of one human to another. there was no overlay or double vision, it was all or 
nothing, either you're here or you're there. or maybe we just hadn't figured out 
how to turn down the opacity yet.

it's quite boring and uncomfortable to sit around and just experience someone 
else's senses, so i snagged a young greasemonkey from the engineering department 
who liked to make bets.

"oi. got a bet for ya. bet you nobody notices that we've switched bodies with 
this," i gestured at the device sitting on the bench.

he took me up on the bet. I forwarded my sensorium to him, and his to mine. 
there was, surprisingly, absolutely no residual signal from my actual body, it 
was like i was occupying a new body. what a shame you have to do something with 
the other's consciousness, i thought, staring into the mirror at the blue eyes 
and pale crooked nose. a redhead. he needs to brush his teeth more often. 

i went about my normal routine that day, attending staff meetings, raising 
objections in the committee, drinking coffee in the research lounge. it turned 
out nobody made any sign of noticing that i was now a fifteen year old irish 
boy. odd, that. i didn't expect to be proven right. was i really so unimportant? 
i wondered what he had been getting up to with my body, wishing i had chosen a 
more trustworthy experimental confidant.

i never got a chance to find out. when i turned off the box i found myself in an 
unfamiliar room. our leader, katherine, was a supermodel-like beauty who defied 
categorization; she was a power, talented in many areas of science and 
sociology. she was supposed to be doing an observational survey of borg mating 
habits. what then, were we doing in this underground facility?

a toolbox was lying open on the floor, and katherine's ten year old son was 
sealed in some kind of vertical coffin or capsule, glowing fluorescent lights 
lining the interior. attached to it was a rail that snaked up into the depths 
overhead. a borg identity chip had been attached to his left temple. it was 
active.

"what the hell are you doing? that's an identity chip. if they see him they'll 
think he's damaged and start attaching things to him!" i spluttered.

she just glared at me, confused and annoyed.

"we already went over this, there aren't any in this sector. it's just an 
interface test too see if we can use their equipment."

just then there was an erratic pounding from the door of the capsule. we looked 
over to see the boy pushing on the glass in a seizure, foamed drool flicking 
about the interior. the capsule hummed and shot up overhead, following the 
twisted rail into the dark labyrinth of unknowable machinery above.

...

was the sensorium re-activated? a memory, not mine, what's happening?

katherine is on earth, driving her car down the coast of india? virginia? she's 
looking at the enormous waves below, surfers tumbling helplessly in the water. 
those are big waves. how can they surf in that? i should keep my eyes on the 
road.

a stretch of bridge had sagged under the tide line here just a bit, and stupidly 
i had driven into the water. now both wheels are spinning and there's nothing to 
do but call for help. then a big wave crashes against the side of the car and 
knocks me off into the water. i'm sinking into an underwater cave, pulled by the 
downdraft of the sinking car. there are penguins perched on all the rocks, 
looking at me. no wait, they're people. they're talking in indian penguin 
voices. i try to talk back, but i'm underwater. i need to breathe soon. kick 
back to the surface and sunlight streams in.

...

a gentle rocking motion woke me. i looked around in the dim light at the boxy 
compartment; definitely not a borg construction. it must be left over from 
whoever built this place. a thrumming noise came through the floor.

"what. happened." i managed to croak out.

katherine was sitting in a corner hugging her knees, red-eyed, looking away from 
me. her mouth was a gash of anger and guilt.

"you freaked out and now noah's gone. i dragged your sorry ass back to the 
elevator. you're welcome." she maintained unbroken eye contact with the wall. my 
cheek was oozing from a large scrape. i guess she did drag me over half a 
kilometer of rubble.

"but we should be able to locate the identity chip if we can decipher their 
network protocols," i offered. "i remember one of the engineers gave a 
presentation about that last week. maybe they've made progress since then."

no answer. the elevator compartment shook gently back and forth as we ascended 
hundreds of floors.

at the top of the ascent the doors opened out onto sheer mayhem. an alarm klaxon 
was going off, and red lights flashed everywhere. smoke poured out of a hole in 
the west wall of our little command center. bodies and paper lay scattered 
everywhere, and several borg were tromping around on the spilled coffee and 
scattered reports, completely oblivious to the noise.