Body Surfing

apply these ‘first-year’ concepts to the Mogran, you see they fit perfectly, both as regards the demons’ ability to retain the memories of all the individuals they’ve possessed, as well as their inability to exist outside of a human body. Like lightning, they zap from one to the next in the blink of an eye.”
    Q. nodded rapidly. His hands had abandoned his head, and were gesturing rapidly in front of him.
    “There are a lot of what-ifs and maybes in all that,” Q. said, almost as if he were lecturing the doctor rather than the other way around. “But okay. Let’s just say you’re right. What’s that have to do with sex?”
    “Sex produces very specific electrochemical activity within the body, Q. My theory is that during the act of intercourse the two bodies essentially become polarized into negative and positivespheres; the orgasm is the jolt that knocks the Mogran out of the host body—the flicked switch, as it were.”
    “Okay, let’s assume you’re right. How’s the sigil fit into all this? What is the sigil?”
    “Think, Q. The demons can only exit a body through sexual orgasm.”
    “You said that, like, twenty times.”
    “So if the body is incapable of reaching orgasm, then the demon is trapped.”
    Q. snorted. “How exactly do you become incapable of reaching orgasm? I mean, unless you cut—” Q.’s legs snapped together. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You want me —”
    A sign appeared on the side of the road, announcing the Hudson exit. The doctor quickened his voice even as he slowed the car.
    “The hunters have traditionally used the sigil as a way of keeping the demons at bay. But let us put aside the question of you for the moment. It does have other uses as well.”
    Q. gasped. “You want to trap a demon. In one body.”
    “Not just any demon. I want to trap Leo. If our reports are correct, Leo may be as much as two thousand years old. He could provide us with invaluable information. He could also be useful as a, how can I put this delicately—”
    “A guinea pig?”
    “We are at a momentous point, Q. If the theory of the Mogran’s electrical nature is correct, we may finally be able to zap a demon from its host in a simple, almost surgical procedure. We might be able to trap the Mogran in inorganic materials. Who knows, we might even—”
    Q. squinted at the doctor. “What?”
    “This is the kind of thing that makes Ileana angry.”
    “What?”
    “I think we might be able to allow the demons to live within electronic circuitry.” He turned from the road and looked at Q. meaningfully. “Not only would we not need to kill the host, but we wouldn’t need to kill the Mogran either. They could live on, Q. Forever.”
    Q.’s eyes went soft for a moment, and the doctor knew he was thinking of Jasper again. His friend. The friend he had killed. Was thinking of resurrecting him. Atoning for his crime.
    “No more lives need be lost, Q. But reaching that goal might require more than one attempt. Experiments. And for that, yes, we need test subjects. Guinea pigs.”
    There was a stop sign at the end of the off-ramp, and the doctor dropped the car out of gear.
    “Would you mind opening the glove compartment? My glasses are a bit dusty. There’s a piece of felt in there.”
    Q. opened the glove compartment, handed the doctor the cloth. The psychiatrist could feel the boy’s eyes on him as he took his glasses off. He folded the cloth around one of the lenses and began rubbing it smoothly. The glasses sparkled in the sunlight coming through the windshield. It was so easy to do, once you knew how.
    “Remember, Q.,” J.D. Thomas said in a soft voice. “Ileana doesn’t just want to kill Leo. She wants to kill Jasper too. Your best friend, Jasper.” His fingers continued to rub the lens back and forth, back and forth. The light blinked in a regular pattern. Q.’s pupils narrowed and opened, narrowed and opened as they attempted to compensate for the rapid changes in photostimulation. “All signs point to the fact that Leo is in Michaela’s body. Do you really want to lose yet another friend?” When Q. didn’t answer, the doctor knew he was almost under. “Remember, Q.” he said in a deep, soft voice, “Ileana is not your friend. But I am.”
    The doctor stopped rubbing, put his glasses back on. A small smile played over Q.’s face. He was still looking at the place where the doctor’s hands had been.
    For the first time in three hours, the doctor felt