Living across multiple bodies is, obviously, safer than sole-substrate existence—that’s living in one body, as you do—because it’s wildly unlikely that all your brains should be in an accident at once, especially if you make sure one or two of them are somewhere nice and secure. But this same precautionary approach of putting your eggs in a large number of baskets and distributing those baskets all over the place makes us vulnerable to the peculiar sin known as wetjacking, in which one such body is severed from its overarching mind and held incommunicado, an incapable semi-person with enough awareness to be afraid and alone. The wetjacker then takes advantage of this suggestible state to force a new, alternative connection, integrating the experience and memories of the kidnapped body into his or her own mind, stealing a fragment of personality and selfhood, and swallowing, in primitive terms, a little of the target’s soul. Espionage is sometimes conducted in this way, but wetjacking can also be motivated by simple boredom. It’s a way to get high, and in fact in some rather bohemian societies on the edge of what is termed the Continuance, it’s even a sort of rite of passage, a way of counting coup.