Concept Sci-fi

The librarian looked at the card and frowned. "Ben Richards. You've already renewed three times," she flatly stated.

He shifted back and forth, uncomfortably. "I'm still not done. There's so much there... I want to make it all the way to the end."

She tapped her fingers on the counter for a moment, seemingly thinking, before shaking her head. "No," she finally said. "Other people have placed a reserve. If you don't make your return now, you'll be overdue."

He sighed. "I really liked being Ben Richards."

"So does everyone else, honey. But time's up." She leaned over, and the man offered up his arm. With two fingers reshaped like tweezers, she deftly plucked the chip out of the slot in his right wrist.

The figure, its features rapidly fading to an androgynous blank slate, nodded dumbly and shuffled off as the librarian stored the chip in its envelope.

"Next!"

Comments from Walter Jon Williams:

"The overall standard was surprisingly high...Each story in the Final Seven is worthy of attention.  They're all successful stories, and what more does a reader want than that?"