The 5th Cycle

Awake

When I woke up I could feel the smooth skin of someone's legs touching mine and someone else's head resting on my right arm. The room was dimly lit by the moonlight streaming through the wall-sized window. I could just make out the 2 women in my bed. The memory of the previous night was slipping away like a dream half-remembered.

Without disturbing the 2 women, I slowly climbed out of bed to find my cell phone. I walked over to the bathroom of the hotel room and closed the door. I took a moment to check out the new body I would have to get used to. I was a man again. I hated being a man.

I dialed the familiar phone number for headquarters. It's not like they could change it. A machine picked up and I spoke.

"Jones, Jordan. 8675309. Awake."

"Please hold" The machine replied.

I waited a few minutes before a female voice picked up.

"Welcome back Ms. Jones. It has been 18 years, 9 months, 3 weeks, 2 days, 9 hrs, and 46 minutes since your death. Please confirm the details of your most recent demise.

"Stabbed and bled to death waiting on the locals to arrive."

"What city?" She asked in a practiced polite voice.

"Lawrence, Kansas"

"Who brought upon your early demise?"

"Katie fucking Speegle" I growled, remembering the details like it was yesterday.

"Thank you. Identity confirmed. Are you ready for extraction?"

"Affirmative"

"Please provide demographics for your current identity."

"Newton, Francis. African-American Male, 18 years of age. 6'2 240 lbs. Oakland, California. 241 Tunis Rd. Lives with his father. Mother is deceased. No siblings."

"Copy that. Extraction will be in 12 hours. That's 1600 hours on June 17, 2032. The location is the Coliseum Bart Station. Please confirm."

"Confirmed. Coliseum Bart Station in 12 hours"

I looked at my wrist and realized I didn't have a watch on. Every man should have a few good watches. Even I had picked that up.

I opened the clock on my phone and set a timer for 11 hours. I was still naked, so I turned off the light and went back into the main room. The women were still asleep, sprawled out on the king-sized bed. I searched for my clothes in the dark, got dressed, and left.

Oakland was a beautiful city again. A lot must've happened since I died. I got an uber home. I sorted through my memories on the way. As Francis, I had a full-ride scholarship to Florida State. I was going to major in Marine Biology and my father was very involved in my life.

Cutting ties with previous loved ones was often ugly. Protocol states that I would have to disappear and make contact later with a cover story provided by the company. They had a whole department dedicated to extracting agents from their new identity's lives. Protocol was stupid and often left the loved ones with more questions than answers.

I made it home and grabbed a few things. Unfortunately, my father wasn't there. I guess this was going to be an easy extraction. I decided to send him an email. Francis knew how to send an email that would erase itself after being opened. I could at least say goodbye and give his father a little closure.

When I was finished I had time to waste, so I continued sorting through my recent memories. Reincarnates remember everything from every life they have lived. It's taxing on the brain, but you get used to it.