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

feels like a hundred miles an hour.”
    Jason translated that into kilometers and realized his dad wasn’t speaking literally. “But what about... I dunno, restaurants? Museums? Movies?”
    “After they do the head work I’ll have different tastes, and I’ll get nothing but the best. Museums—hell, I never went to museums before. And as far as movies, I’ll just wait for them to come out on chip. Then I’ll curl up with my handler and go to sleep in front of them.”
    “Of course, the movie will be in black and white to you.”
    “Heh.”
    Jason didn’t mention—didn’t want to think about—the other changes that the “head work” would make in his father’s senses, and his brain. After the craniofacial procedure, his mind would be as much like a dog’s as modern medicine could make it. He’d be happy, no question of that, but he wouldn’t be Noah Carmelke any more.
    Jason’s dad seemed to recognize that his thoughts were drifting in an uncomfortable direction. “Tell me about your job,” he said.
    “I work for Bionergy,” Jason replied. “I’m a civil engineer. We’re refitting Cleveland’s old natural gas system for biogas... that means a lot of tearing up streets and putting them back.”
    “Funny. I was a civil engineer for a while, before I hired on at Romatek.”
    “No shit?”
    “No shit.”
    “I was following in your footsteps, and I didn’t even know it.”
    “We thought you were going to be an artist. Your mom was so proud of those drawings of the barn, and the goats.”
    “Wow. I haven’t done any sketching in years.”
    They stared at the mural, both remembering a refrigerator covered with drawings.
    “You want me to draw you?”
    Jason’s father nodded slowly. “Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.”
    Someone from the clinic managed to scare up a pad and some charcoal, and they settled down under the maple tree. Jason leaned against the fence and began to sketch, starting with the hindquarters. His father sat with his hind legs drawn up beneath him and his forelegs stretched straight out in front. “You look like the Sphinx,” Jason said.
    “Hmm.”
    “You can talk if you like, I’m not working on your mouth.”
    “I don’t have anything to say.”
    Jason’s charcoal paused on the page, then resumed its scratching. “Last night I read a paper I found in the restaurant. The Howl . You know it?” The full title was HOWL: The Journal of the Bay Area Transpecies Community . It was full of angry articles about local politicians he’d never heard of, and ads for services he couldn’t understand or didn’t want to think about.
    “I’ve read it, yeah. Buncha flakes.”
    “I found out there are a lot of different reasons for people to change their species. Some of them feel they were born into the wrong body. Some are making a statement about humanity’s impact on the planet. Some see it as a kind of performance art. I don’t see any of those in you.”
    “I told you, I just want to be taken care of. It’s a form of retirement.”
    The marks on the page were getting heavy and black. “I don’t think that’s it. Not really. I look at you and I see a man with ambition and drive. You wouldn’t have gotten all those stock options if you were the type to retire at 58.” The charcoal stick snapped between Jason’s fingers, and he threw the pieces aside. “Damnit, Dad, how can you give up your humanity ?”
    Jason’s dad jumped to his four feet. His stance was wide, defensive. “The O’Hartigan decision said I have the right to reshape my body and my mind in any way I wish. I think that includes the right to not answer questions about it.” He stared for a moment, as though he were about to say something else, then pursed his lips and trotted off.
    Jason was left with a half-finished sketch of a sphinx with his father’s face.

    -o0o-

    He sat in the clinic’s waiting room for three hours the next day. Finally Dr. Steig came out and told him that he was sorry, but