Space Magic by David D. Levine, Sara A. Mueller Read Free Book Online

at the ankles, with neatly trimmed nails and clean, unscuffed pads.
    His father’s body resembled a wolf’s, or a mastiff’s, broad and strong and laced with muscle and sinew. But it was wrong, somehow. His chest, narrow though it was, was still wider than any normal dog’s, and the fur looked fake—too clean, too fine, too regular. Jason knew from his reading on the plane that it was engineered from his father’s own body hair, and was only an approximation of a dog’s natural coat with its layers of different types of hair.
    He was a magnificent animal. He was a pathetic freak. He was a marvel of biotechnology. He was an arrogant icon of self-indulgence.
    He was a dog.
    He was Jason’s father.
    “Dad? It’s Jason.” Some part of him wanted to pet the furry shoulder, but he kept his hands to himself.
    His father’s eyes flickered open, then drifted closed again. “Yeah. Doctor told me.” His voice was a little slurred. “What the hell’re you doing here?”
    “I ran into Aunt Brittany at O’Hare. I didn’t recognize her, but she knew me right away. She told me all about... you. I came straight here.” It’s my father , he’d told his boss on the phone. He’s in the hospital. I have to see him before it’s too late. Letting him draw the wrong conclusion, but not too far from the truth.
    His father’s nose wrinkled in distaste. “Never could trust her.”
    “Dad... why? ”
    He opened his eyes again. They were the same hard blue as Jason’s, and they were beginning to focus properly. “Because I can. Because the Consti... tu tion gives me the right to do whatever the hell I want with my body and my money. Because I want to be pampered for the rest of my life.” He closed his eyes and crossed his paws on the bridge of his nose. “Because I don’t want to make any more damn decisions. Now get out.”
    Jason’s mouth flapped open and closed like a fish. “But Dad...”
    “Mr. Carmelke?” Jason looked up, and his father rolled his head around, to see where Dr. Steig stood by the door. Jason had no idea how long he had been there. “Excuse me, I meant Jason.” Jason’s father put his paws over his face again. “Mr. Carmelke, I think you should leave your father alone for a while. He’s still feeling the effects of the anesthetic. He may be more... open to discussion in the morning.”
    “Doubt it,” came the voice from under the crossed paws.
    Jason’s hand reached out—to stroke the forehead, to ruffle the fur, he wasn’t sure which—but then it pulled back. “See you tomorrow, Dad.”
    There was no response.
    As soon as the door closed behind him, Jason leaned heavily against the wall, then slid down to a sitting position. His eyes stung and he rubbed at them.
    “I’m sorry.” Jason opened his eyes at the voice. Dr. Steig was squatting in front of him, holding a clipboard in his hands. “He’s not usually like this.”
    “I’ve never understood him,” Jason said, shaking his head. “Not since he left. We had a good life. He wasn’t drinking or anything. There weren’t any money problems—not then, anyway. Mom loved him. I loved him. But he said, ‘There’s nothing here for me,’ and he walked out of our lives.”
    “You mentioned money. Is that what this is about? You know he’s given most of it to charity already. What remains is just enough to pay for the craniofacial procedure, and a trust fund that will cover his few needs after that.”
    “It’s not the money. It was never the money. He even offered to pay alimony and child support, but Mom turned it down. It wasn’t the most practical decision, but she really didn’t want anything to do with him. I think it was one of those things where a broken love turns into a terrible hate.”
    “Does your mother know you’re here?”
    “She died eight years ago. Leukemia. He didn’t even come to the funeral.”
    “I’m sorry,” the doctor said again. He sat down, let his clipboard clatter to the shiny floor next