Downstairs, a man shook the receptionist awake. "Are you supposed to sleep on the job?"
The only response they got was a long confused stare before the woman shook her head. "No," she said, looking around, disoriented.
"Well, take five minutes. Go to the bathroom and clean up. You look a bit rumpled," he said.
"Yes, sir," she said, recognizing him suddenly as the Assistant Manager. She scampered off to the restroom with her purse. She looked at herself in the mirror. She looked the same as she remembered. Twenty-five, blond hair, large breasts...why did she have the odd feeling something was wrong?
She started to fix her makeup, letting the discomfort vanish.
Doctor Chang watched her through the security cameras, taking notes on a pad. This experiment was a simple one. If there was nothing obvious, how long would it take, if ever, for a change to be noticed?
This woman had been a wife and mother, and he'd stripped that all away, having given her the age and role of the only one who had seen her arrive, the new receptionist. He watched her leave the bathroom and go back to the desk. If that was possible, as he'd given her the former receptionist's training, she seemed even better at the job than she'd been.
He paused in his thought, wondering what might have stayed behind during the transfer. He shrugged, deciding that was worthy of further study.
