Submitted for the July 2024 prompt: This Mortal Coil

The door to medical cell #1126 slid open with a clack. A gray-haired woman carried a tablet inside. She tapped on her screen before looking up at the man lying in the hospital bed before her. "Mr. Andover?"

 

"Not today. I'd like to be someone else today." He smiled.

 

She pursed her lips, clearly not in the mood. She tapped the screen in her hand. The wall behind her lit up and filled with an image of a very old man. Wrinkles creasing his face at the eyes and lips spoke of many happy years. "Mr. Andover, do you recognize this picture?"

 

"What, no introduction, no chitchat?"

 

The woman cleared her throat, annoyed. "I am Special Agent Miller from the Office of Criminal Investigations for the Federal Drug Administration. I've been assigned to your case. Do you recognize the picture?"

 

"That man is obviously a threat to the state. A danger to his fellow man." The man smiled again.

 

"Joke all you want, Mr. Andover. The use of illicit anti-aging drugs carries severe penalties."

 

The man scanned the room. "I've noticed. Apparently, those penalties don't apply to CEOs or politicians. I see quite a few spry 150-year-olds on the news these days."

 

"They get the proper license and use only approved medications."

 

"Very expensive licenses. Outrageously expensive medications. It's OK for trillionaires to live forever, but not English teachers?"

 

Agent Miller scowled. She tapped the screen in her hand. The picture on the wall began to transform, slowly growing younger, stronger, more handsome, until the face was that of the man in the bed. "This composite was created from photos taken of you during the past two years. Do you still deny taking any type of age-reversing drugs?"

 

"You've taken enough of my blood and other fluids to float a cruise ship. Have you found anything?"

 

"No."

 

"Maybe it's an abnormal reaction to peanuts. Or those fake hamburger patties that are really made of insects."

 

Agent Miller sighed. "According to the doctors, you are an extremely healthy 30-year-old man. Except you're 90."

 

At this, the man beamed. "Do you know what that means? I talked to my lawyer yesterday. There are no laws against being young and healthy. Not yet, at least. If you can't find some evidence of using illegal drugs, you have to let me go."

 

At this, the woman's jaw clenched. She knew it was true and she hated it. "You'll be released later this afternoon."

 

"Since we are about to part company, I'll tell you something. I don't understand it myself. I think it's awesome but a bit of a mystery. My mind keeps going back to the classics. Did you ever read Tolkien?"

 

"I've seen some of the movies. Even the old ones in 2D."

 

"Kids! They barely teach you how to read anymore. You'd have to dig back into his other books to really understand what I'm saying. The Sons of Numenor worshipped the Most High God, and He gifted them with lifespans that rivaled the elves."

 

Agent Miller cocked her head. "What do you mean?"

 

"Maybe it's more about who I know than what. 'Thus says the Lord, in those days, one who dies at a hundred years shall be considered a youth, and one who falls short of a hundred shall be thought accursed.'"

 

At this, Agent Miller laughed. "Oh, you're one of those. Bunch of superstitious nonsense. I work for scientists. We live in reality."

 

"You're probably right. Do not, for any reason, believe your eyes." He smiled at her. "It's probably easier for you to believe that you're talking to the first King of the Elves."

 

"King of the Elves. Very funny." She didn't smile. "I haven't found anything yet, but I've obtained a warrant to implant a chemical monitor that will monitor your blood for anything unusual. You'll get one. Your wife and children too."

 

This startled the man. "Why them?"

 

"Didn't you know? Since your arrest, your wife has been manifesting changes similar to your own. It's not as far along, but apparently, it takes some time."

 

The man laughed out loud. "Really? Wonderful! I've been trying to convince her for years. She must be starting to believe. You made my day. When can I see my queen?"

 

The agent gritted her teeth. "This afternoon. As soon as you get the implant, you'll be discharged." She clicked something on her tablet and the photo behind her disappeared. "We'll figure out what you're doing. And when we do, you'll spend the rest of your life behind bars."

 

"You'll have to forgive me if I don't wish you good luck."

 

"I don't believe in luck either."

 

"Oh, you bureaucrats. If it can't be documented on a Form 33Q, it doesn't exist."

 

"Nothing wrong with a good paper trail."

 

"Depends on where it's taking you."

 

The first King of the Elves smiled and closed his eyes. Recognizing that the interview was over, Agent Miller tapped her tablet and walked through the door into the darkness outside.