The Dream Of Beauty ( part 2 of 3 ) By Matt Barton

The garden was yet one more of the Doctor's experiments in ambiguity. Lucia cringed as she surveyed the scene, her eyes lingering on such spectacles as trees laden with human organs instead of fruit, or bushes that sprouted fingers, or even flowers that smelled very embarrassingly like vaginal secretions.
Salebra bent low to a bush next to him, and plucked a little purple and blue flower. "Smell this," he offered.
She took a deep breath and almost stumbled as it affected her. Her senses swirled, and the colors around her began to melt and swirl. Her skin was tingling, as though millions of insects were crawling on her. "Smell this one, now," she heard Salebra say, and took another breath. She nearly cried with relief when everything returned to normal. She noticed that the flower Salebra held in her hand was red with blood, and that her finger had been pricked by its thorns.
"These are the diversions of gods," said Salebra, gesturing at the other flowers. "There are those that make one happy, but sometimes one is more comfortable sad. The fruit on that tree," he said, pointing, "is perfect. It contains all the nutrients, vitamins and minerals the unmodified human needs. It even contains bacteria and viruses that regenerate the body. Here it is carefully controlled, but left to itself, it would soon overcome the constraints of this garden and sprout everywhere, like a cancer. It would be a plague of nourishment and longevity. It also cleans the air of several pollutants. That is why the air is fresher here."
"What's wrong with that?" shrugged Lucia, still rolling from the effect of the flower. "Isn't that what everybody wants?"
"Alas," shrugged Salebra, "it is not. For, variety is more important than efficiency. Would this garden be so delightful, if the only tree that grew here was like that one? Would dinner be anything but tedious, if you existed solely on its fruit?"
"But, people could get over that," argued Lucia.
"Well, Dr. Mele has come to respect diversity over utility, and decay over permanence," said Salebra. "Besides, it is now his idea that it is better to reduce the need for resources, than finding ways to fill it."
"What do you mean by that?" asked Lucia, who caught herself before she smelled another bud. She placed it on the ground, and tried to ignore Salebra's wry grin.
"Well, myself, for example. I eat only once a day, and so little that, if you were to eat the same, you would quickly wither away and die. My digestive system is more efficient than yours. This was a project Dr. Mele devised to allow him to achieve more radical bodily designs. Some of us have an enzyme for digesting cellulose, so that we may even eat grass."
Lucia sat on a clump of furry grass and shook her head. "What is the point of all this? Why isn't it just good enough to let nature take its course? I think some of this stuff is very creepy, and it just isn't right."
"Would you have me killed then, Ms. Dawn?" asked Salebra.
"No, of course not!" stammered Lucia. "I didn't mean you. It's just that, well, it makes me feel bad, thinking of that lady that can't even walk the right way. All that suffering, just because somebody thinks it's beautiful."
"You don't know much about suffering," mumbled Salebra. "I would tell you so much more, but I can't. You don't know what's downstairs. Take a look down there, if you want to know what suffering is, Ms. Lucia!"
Suddenly, there was a loud greeting from behind them, and Dr.
Mele, Carol and Clay joined them. The doctor's face was warm and friendly, as was Carol's. Clay appeared distracted.
"And that's the first step," said Dr. Mele to Carol. He turned to Lucia, who was standing up. "Did you enjoy your time in the garden, Ms. Dawn?" he asked. "I trust you did not meet with any magical swords?"
"What do you keep downstairs?" asked Lucia flatly. She felt a sudden tension behind her, in Salebra, as the doctor's yellowy face whitened.
"Why, Ms. Dawn, there is nothing there but the laboratory, where actual work is done. It is room upon room filled with computers, specimens, scopes and machines." For a brief second, the doctor's gaze flicked to Salebra. "Unfortunately, sanitation prevents the presence of anyone there besides myself and my staff," he explained. "It is impossible to achieve total sterility, but we try our hardest. All scientists recognize the necessity of the most particular cleanliness."
"Makes sense," nodded Clay. "You might get germs on a cell, or something like that, Lucia. Still, it is a shame. I'd sure like to see all that you described, Dr. Mele."
Carol sighed. "You two remind me of country bumpkins staring at skyscrapers and taxi cabs with awe. Why are you so interested in a silly machine, when an artist like Dr. Mele is right here?"
Lucia was tempted to answer that question, but decided against it. She felt bad enough that she had probably caused trouble for Salebra.
"Dr. Mele," said Lucia, "are you always successful? I mean, don't you sometimes have projects that, don't work? Or die?"
"Sadly, that is unavoidable," said Dr. Mele. "But I am comforted by the fact that, without science, so many more young men and women would have died being born. It is glorious, science, but art is even more glorious, and it is to this god that I pray for inspiration."
"That's one way of looking at it," said Clay. "Think about how much good hospitals have done. Babies would be dying all over the place without doctors. And now look at what we can accomplish!" Clay was looking at one of the organ trees. "I bet you could take that heart over there and transplant it into somebody else."
"Perhaps," mused the doctor, "but that is a complex and tedious process, and hardly worth the time of such a distinguished guest as you are. Might I suggest you retire to the drawing room? As for myself, I must create." He gave Salebra a long look. "Show them to the drawing room, Salebra," he said sharply. "Provide them with refreshment and then join me in the lab. But first, give me those flowers which you have destroyed."
"Yes, Dr. Mele," he nodded, his face perfectly blank as he handed him the flowers. Lucia noticed that the doctor seemed particularly interested in the blood stained one, stuffing it gently into the pocket of his coat. The Dawns followed Salebra back into the house.

After Salebra had presented them with refreshments; Lucia and Clay were sipping what tasted like regular tea, and Carol was enjoying another of the Doctor's strange creations. According to Salebra, it was sushi made with mutated beetles, who had a pinch of delicious lobster-tasting meat under the shells. Salebra had explained that this was a "natural mutation," and was not "enhanced by man" in any way.
"So, what did you decide on?" Lucia asked Clay, trying to avoid looking in her mother's direction. She was eating the beetle sushi quite rapidly, but had made no comment on it.
Her father raised his eyebrows. "Well, what do I know? I just do my job earning a living. You know, I made over 200K last year? That's pretty good for a man with no college degree. It just takes willpower, determination and most importantly - the ability to see abilities in other people. I can't do all the work and solve all the problems, but I can find someone who can. That's why I made over 200K last year, Lucia."
"So, what did you decide on?" Lucia asked again. Clay writhed under her scrutiny.
"He didn't decide on anything," blared Carol angrily between bites. "We're not even using his sperm. This will be my baby, and we're using one of my own cells for genetic matter."
"A clone?" asked Lucia.
"Well, an enhanced clone," nodded her mother proudly.
"Well, in a way it is my baby still," blurted Clay defensively. "After all, I am the one paying for this. Without the money, it wouldn't be. I make it possible. Doesn't that make me the father?"
"It?" pondered Lucia. "So it's not going to be male or female?"
"Ha!" snorted Carol. "Such outmoded concepts. Our child will have no sexual organs whatsoever. They are unnecessary, when babies can be produced scientifically, ascetically and selectively. Sexual reproduction is a clumsy, outmoded concept. All the hormones, the periods, the lust, the unpredictable erections and dryness. Our child will be free of all these unnatural and outmoded feelings."
"It's funny how the word outmoded isn't outmoded, too," blurted Clay, a sheepish grin on his face.
Lucia shrank back in her seat, more worried and apprehensive now than ever about the process. Her sibling wouldn't even be human. Desperately she searched her father's face for some sign of rebellion, for some sign of comprehension, for some symbol of awareness. Instead, he smiled back at her, still amused by his joke.
"I'm going to the restroom," announced Carol. When she left, Lucia pounced on her father.
"Dad, there's something really terrible going on here," she began. "You can't let her do this. Salebra told me that something awful is going on downstairs. I think that Dr. Mele is crazy. He turns human beings into monsters. Do you really want your child - or her child, or whatever - to be some sort of freak?"
Clay chuckled. "Sweetheart, I know how you feel. But this artsy fartsy stuff is way above my head. It may look freaky to us, but to somebody who appreciates it, it means a lot. It's like modern art, you know. I don't get it, it doesn't mean anything to me, but when Carol wanted a painting, I'm happy to buy it. It makes her happy, and that's my second job."
"Is that all you care about? Making her happy?" fumed Lucia.
"Well, I do love her," nodded Clay. "She is my wife." Lucia nearly gagged. She was contemplating slapping him, when she noticed a tear in his eye. He dried it with one of the napkins he always carried in his shirt pocket. "Damn, Lucia, this stuff is so over my head. I don't know what's going on, anymore. I have to keep her happy, that's all I know. I'm not to blame for that, am I? I keep you all fed. I make over 200K a year, now. At least I did last year. I didn't see a penny of it, I just gave it all to your mother. How many fathers are that good?"
Lucia shook her head. "You're not a bad father, Dad," she said slowly. "But you can't let her make all the decisions. Don't you feel that there's something wrong about this?"
"It's over my head," shrugged Clay, regaining his composure. "I leave all that stuff to your mother."
Abruptly, without knocking, the door swung open, and Dr. Mele walked in with an object concealed under a small sheet. He glanced about the room. "Ah, my dear friends, Mr. Dawn and young Ms. Dawn. I have Salebra's statuette here. Perhaps I should wait before unveiling it?"
"I'm right here," declared Carol, stepping into the room.
"Where's Salebra?" asked Lucia.
Dr. Mele cleared his throat. "Unfortunately, Salebra will be indisposed for a long while. He has some artistic projects he is pursuing, so I gave him a few days off from work."
"How noble," praised Carol. "I don't see how you make it with only one assistant anyway. An artist like you - having to trifle with details? Every moment of your life should be spent creating."
Dr. Mele chuckled politely. "Ah, Mrs. Dawn, you tempt me, yet a wise artist knows that occasionally one must come down from the clouds. Even Jehovah rested on the Sabbath. Besides, do you remember the servants at breakfast? They are the children of my original servants."
"Is that the statuette?" asked Carol.
"Yes, yes it is," said Mele, placing it on a small table in the center of the room. "Shall I?" he asked, hand hovering over the sheet. No one dared breathe. "Very well!" Grandiosely, the doctor grabbed and flung aside the cover. Lucia shut her eyes.
"My God!" shrieked Carol, and for one intensely pleasurable moment, Lucia thought her mother had finally come to her senses.
"I knew you'd love it," said Dr. Mele, and Lucia glanced at her mother. She was nodding, tears openly flowing down her cheeks.
"It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," her mother blurted, shooing aside Clay's offer of a napkin without tearing her gaze from the statuette. "Oh, Dr. Mele, you have honored me."
"I'm so happy that you're happy," said Clay.
Lucia finally steeled herself enough to look at it herself. It was an image that she would never forget.
The first thing she noticed was that it vaguely resembled her mother in the face, which was one of the reasons her mother was so thrilled by it. The resemblance to her mother - or even anything human - ended there. Its arms and legs were far too long; its fingers were at least twice as long as they should be. Its neck was also long, but its head was very small compared to the rest of the body. It had large breasts, but where the nipples should be were tubes that hung below its waist. Where a vagina or penis should be was blank, like the pelvis of one of the dolls Lucia played with as a child. Its waist was grotesquely narrow, and it had no buttocks. Where the anus would be extended another tube.
"I call my creation, The Functionary, for it celebrates the utility of mankind," Dr. Mele explained.
"Please go on," pleaded Carol. "It is so refreshing to hear an artist explain his work."
"Of course," beamed the doctor. He ran his fingers along the tubes extending from the breasts. "Now, in unrefined humans, the mammary gland is nearly useless. It only produces milk when a child is born, and is hardly ever used to nourish the mother herself or her friends and family. These mammary glands will function immediately, and will produce a wonderfully flavored and highly nourishing drink - which all of you can enjoy. In like manner are the hands and fingers, which are long and supple, and far better adapted to the role that such parts play in modern life. Now, on the waist I was conservative. What can I say?"
"Oh it's wonderful," muttered Carol.
"This is the best part," said Mele, indicating the tube extending from its buttocks. "Now, human feces is notorious for its stench and undesirability. We go to great lengths to keep it away from us, and we do produce so much of it. Not so with this." Lucia realized suddenly that the statuette was made of plastic or some other flexible material; the doctor was able to move the tube about. "Now, the excretion of many plants, and even some of the lower kingdoms, is actually quite beneficial to us. That is something I have pursued here. Now, while this work will eat and digest human feces, this tube will produce a not only edible, but highly delicious, substance in amounts that could possibly feed you all. Inevitably, there will be some loss, because the unrefined human digestive system is much less efficient than my work's. So, you will have to occasionally eat other substances, to make up for this lapse. The benefit of that, though, will be that what you eat will affect the taste of what she produces. Thus, variety is achieved."
"So, she will eat, uh," Clay stammered, "well, what we excrete?"
"Exactly," smiled Dr. Mele. "I knew you were not to be underestimated, Mr. Dawn."
"That won't smell, though?" he asked. Carol hissed.
"I thought of that, naturally," said the doctor. "First of all, the mouth contains various enzymes that help eliminate the odor, and the skin will secrete fragrances that conceal the rest."
Lucia finally could not control herself. "Mom, please! Look at that thing! Do you want that inside you?"
Carol turned around. Her face was white. "If you know what is good for you, you stupid girl, you'll shut up and not say another word. I swear that if you do, I will murder you with my own hands. It is a humiliation to me that we were too poor to have you enhanced. Look at what was produced by nature! It's awful to my eyes to look at. You are outmoded." Carol turned back to the doctor.
Lucia felt her face and pride burning. Her blood rushed through her veins with intense force, and she could not have restrained herself a moment longer if her life really had depended on it. "You stupid bitch!" she shrieked, "I hate you!" Even Dr. Mele's eyes went wide. "You are a monster, a neurotic maniac! Look at that thing! Look at this whole place! Are you too stupid to realize this isn't right?"
"Lucia!" stammered Clay, completely miserable. "What are you saying? You don't mean that. You love your mother." Carol had not turned around.
Lucia continued, though now her voice was cold and calm. "Your dream of beauty has become a nightmare. If you go through with this, it won't be with me. I'll find some other place to live. You and Dad both can go to hell!"
"Well said," declared Dr. Mele, who was grinning. "You should listen to your daughter, Mrs. Dawn. She knows where those who dream the dream of beauty will awaken."
Carol made a gurgling sound in her throat, then lurched towards Lucia. Clay began to wail, "Carol, Carol, don't let her bother you."
"What kind of father are you? What kind of husband are you?" fumed Carol. "You let her talk to me like that?"
"Well, she's just upset," shrugged Clay. "I'll admit that I don't understand why the heck anybody would want a baby that looked like that, but I guess you do. I just don't know if I'm going to pay for it, that's all."
Lucia and Carol both gasped. Carol was the first to recover enough to speak. "What did you say?"
Clay seemed to shrink before them as he rambled. "I mean, I don't know, I didn't say no. It's just kind of weird, and Lucia has a point. This isn't some painting. It's cellular, a human being."
Carol slapped him. Everyone grew quiet, until Carol spoke, barely above a whisper: "If you don't do this, I'm leaving you."
"Okay, okay," shrugged Clay. There was unmistakable bitterness in his voice. "It's no big deal. I'll pay for it." He returned his attention to the statuette, unsuccessfully hiding a grimace as he stared at it.
Dr. Mele laughed heartily. "Ah, you dear fellows amuse me more than I ever expected. It is so rare that I see such animation. I really do enjoy your company, and I am greatly pleased that you are happy with my work. I will need to spend some time preparing the specimens, and then there is the implanting. Thus, I will need Mrs. Dawn for quite some time." He looked from Carol to Clay. "Would you all like to see the procedure?"
"No, that's all right," said Clay nervously. "That kind of stuff makes me a little woozy."
"I'd rather watch you slit her throat," said Lucia. Her mother tensed, but no one otherwise acknowledged the comment.
Dr. Mele nodded, then gestured for them to leave. "Mrs. Dawn and I will journey into the laboratory. Unfortunately, Salebra is indisposed, but I hope you will make yourself at home. There should be some servers about, if you need them."
"Thank you, Dr. Mele," nodded Clay. "I'm sure everything will be fine. Maybe Lucia and me can go for a walk in the garden."
"No, thanks," said Lucia.
"Well, I'll think of something," mumbled Clay. The doctor led them back to their quarters, then took Carol away.
Alone, Lucia gave her father a long, hard look. He wrung his hands together, and she noticed a thin layer of sweat forming on his forehead. "How are you feeling?" she asked him, concerned.
"I don't know about all this," he confessed. "I guess I shouldn't feel this way. It's her body. She can do what she wants. You heard them; I'm not even really involved in this. It's all her, really."
"You're paying for it," reminded Lucia.
"Well, I make plenty of money," shrugged Clay. His hands were trembling. "I don't have any particular use for it. I just want her to enjoy herself, and you, too. I will buy a nice car as soon as you can get the license for one. You know I'm not stingy with the money I make. I'm very generous when it comes to my family."
"Are you trying to make yourself feel better?" Lucia stood over him, her arms crossed. "If you don't do something, you're no better than she is. It'll be as much your fault as it hers." An idea occurred to her. "Look, Dad, Salebra told me that something really bad is going on downstairs. Why don't we go down there and look? Maybe that would change your mind."
Clay nodded. "Well, he said it might infect the place with germs if we went there. I'd hate to do that. I mean, I'd like to see all those computers and all, but you know, I'd hate to infect the eggs."
Lucia shook her head. "If you're that concerned, wear a facemask. I'm sure he has supplies. Let's just take one peek, okay?"
Her father was nodding. "Well, yeah, maybe one little peek. I could even hold my breath for that long. I do want to see how all this works. And he did say to make ourselves at home."