The scientist exhaled and a concentrated amount of smoke blew out into Jasper’s face. “Yes,” she said. “Right after you climaxed.”
“Oh,” he said. The scientists did not seem scandalized or turned on. In his former life, this might’ve disappointed him. Now all he cared about was advice.
“Can you fix me?”
The short scientist exhaled again. Jasper felt his lungs make a small spasm. “My name is Voda,” she said. “Why don’t you come to my office. We’ll talk.” She dropped her cigarette onto the floor and a small robot immediately appeared and ate it.
Voda took out another cigarette, lit it, and turned. The crowd of scientists parted to make a path for her exit, then all turned and followed her. Jasper sat up—he felt woozy.
A medical team disrobed Jasper and began washing him. He found he’d lost any sense of care or shame about his body too. He was now a patient. In less than two minutes he was clean and in a fresh hospital gown. Another woman appeared.
“Mr. Kesper? You can follow me to Voda’s office.”
He stood and was aware of the air on his buttocks. “Should I get dressed?”
“Voda would like to see you immediately. This way.”
In her office, Jasper noted that Voda’s skin looked very processed, as if someone had tried to soak it in chemicals and develop it like photographic film. Her expression was relaxed and pensive. It reminded Jasper of the way reptiles in pet stores look when they’re lying on those electric rocks. She lit another cigarette. “I think I can help you,” she said.
“Great,” Jasper said and nodded. Voda shrugged.
“Maybe,” she said.
“Why?” he asked. “What’s the catch?” He wanted to add, How old are you? He really couldn’t tell. It seemed like maybe she was very old, but was so unconcerned about the passing of time that it didn’t affect her. Her hair was a buoyant nest of tight brown curls whose lushness stood in stark contrast to the condition of her skin; they looked like the edible salad end of a root vegetable.
Now she smiled though. “The same catch as everything. Loads of risk.”
Jasper shifted in his chair, trying not to think about his back-opened gown. The brisk temperature in Voda’s office made its chrome seat feel refrigerated. He was excited to hear what she was saying but the surgical feel of the facility had activated some castration paranoia in his brain. He didn’t like the creeping feeling in the back of his mind that his manhood was being iced down prior to amputation.
“I didn’t think doctors smoked,” Jasper said. Beneath Voda’s desk, a pack of cigarette-butt-eating robots roved around her ankles, in wait like toy dogs. The only thing hanging on the wall was a vintage calendar bearing a photo of a nude man.
“Your case is of particular interest to me for several reasons, Jasper. What you’re wanting—and don’t worry, our diagnostics are thorough. You were vague on the phone with the consult operator but we’ve filled in the holes. So to speak.”
The way her eyes moved over him seemed like she was checking him out, but maybe it was a science thing. Jasper didn’t know what to think. “So you can cure me?” he asked.
“I don’t like the term ‘cure.’ It limits solutions to pure reversal. What’s going on in your brain right now would be tricky to undo, because we can’t be certain about how or why this happened to you.”
“I got attacked by a dolphin that tried to . . . I don’t know, mate with me,” Jasper blurted out, his voice rising in volume. This was not his fault. Yes, after meeting Tiny especially, a small part of his brain had worried that the entire scenario was some sort of punishment for his years of conning women, maybe even one self-imposed by his own conscience. But he remembered that day on the beach, prior to the attack. He’d been happy, not guilt stricken.
“The thing bit me—” Jasper started.
Voda interrupted. “We can’t know causality, Jasper. Maybe there is some bacterial explanation for what happened. Maybe that dolphin had a mutant virus. There’s a bacteria that sometimes presents itself in cat feces, for example. It causes mice to be drawn toward cats. Infected mice will actually seek out a cat and present themselves for killing. We could spend decades and millions of dollars chasing down the reason why you’re feeling this way, and still not find any concrete answers. What I’m proposing, my solution, is a reconfiguration. We’ll work with your current desires instead of against them. Afterward, you’ll be able to get aroused and have sex with a human female.”
She dropped her cigarette to the floor. Jasper felt his gown pull forward, away from his body for a moment in the instantaneous frenzy of the robot vacuuming that followed.
“You’re an awful person, Jasper. ‘Awful’ isn’t a very professional term, but it’s an accurate one. I’m sure you’re aware you’re a narcissist. Did you know you’re also a bit of a sociopath? I’d like to show you something.”
On the chrome wall to their left, a projection appeared. The images came from a microscopic wand held by another scientist. Jasper noticed she was holding the projection pen between her first and second fingers like a cigarette.
“That’s your brain. See the highlighted portions?” Other images tiled across the wall, stacking above and below Jasper’s scan. “For comparison, these are the brain scans of other sociopaths, some of them violent serial killers. See the similarities? Though you’re not aggressively violent, you have the strong capability of hurting people and feeling no suffering or empathy after doing so.”
Fair enough, Jasper thought. What did she want him to say? Oops?
“But that’s not why you’re here today of course. That’s not what you want fixed. You want to be able to have sex with women again. So let’s do it.”
Jasper nodded. Was he missing something? If he was, did it matter?
“I’m glad you’re on board,” Voda continued. “What I’m going to say next I don’t disclose out of any sense of personal ethics or obligation. I think you’re a wretched man. In this world where so many good people unfairly suffer, you might not deserve to live. I’m telling you this because it’s easier to not have you confused or attempting to ask questions after the procedure when you might very well be mentally compromised.”
“Mentally compromised?” His thrill at the thought of getting his old life back had made him as erect as he could currently get without a dolphin being involved. It was a sensation he’d come to think of as hot-water-bottle penis—warmth and volume only. Jasper uncrossed his legs, pressed his swollen member against the refrigerated seat. “Like, slow?”
“Neural damage and death are both significant possibilities, yes.”