She just smiles and nods. "Well, son, it's your choice. I can't stop you."

"If we're done, might I proceed with the process?" asks your father, glaring at her. You chuckle under your breath. If there's one trait your father excels at, it's impatience.

"Now, remember son, law requires your first Rentyring experience to be into the body of an experienced Rentyrer, who has been hired by the company specifically for first-timers. This is mostly for us, but I'm sure his apartment has some pamplets for you too. And don't forget about the monitor! For the first few minutes of the experience, a realtime monitor allows both participants to gaze at each other."

"Yeah, I know already!" you say.

"And you've got your Rentyre I.D. in your pocket so that the other guy can find it?"

"Yes!" you say, exasperated. Rentyre I.D.s are a brief attempt of the law to assure some sort of order. Certain places are closed to Rentyrers, while certain places only cater to Rentyrers. But the main purpose of the I.D. is to ensure that only people of age can use a Rentyre. You have to apply to the company with a birth certificate to get one. You'd have to be a moron to try and forge one of these!

A green light on the console indicates that a connection between Rentyres has been made. Your father works the controls, though you could've set a timer. The tube doesn't even have a door that closes. One minute, you're staring at the floral wallpaper of your parent's house. And the next minute, you're not.

You have 1 choice: