51 - 24 - Governor

I pushed the front door open and strode out onto the porch. Alone. My damp dress clung to my legs.

Hummers and National Guard trucks surrounded the governor's mansion. Soldiers in camouflage fatigues hunkered down behind the governor's well-tended shrubs, weapons drawn.

I peered out into an ocean of gun barrels. Pistols, rifles, howitzers, Dracon beams.

All pointing at me.

I steeled myself. Flashed what I hoped was an elected-official smile. "It's lovely to see the young men and women of our armed forces gathered here. However, I think -"

I shivered. It was too weird. The governor's voice coming from my body. Then I reminded myself. The body wasn't mine, either.

It was the governor's.

I'd acquired her DNA when I shook her hand, then morphed in the hall outside her office. Now I was standing barefoot on her front porch, wearing her ragged fund-raising dress, trying to convince lunatics with automatic weapons that I was the real thing.