you that at the genipet store.”
I scraped my shoe off on the carpet, figuring he’d never notice, and found Peanuts in McGlade’s office, curled up on the floor. At first I couldn’t tell what it was. Brown and hairy and lumpy, about the size of the raccoon I’d fed earlier. Then it looked up and me, shook its floppy ears, and gave me a deep, loud trumpet.
Peanuts was a genetically modified African elephant.
It trumpeted again, its tiny trunk sticking out like a bugle, and then padded up to me on little round feet. When he reached my leg he bumped my shin with its head. His tusks were capped with cork.
“Hello, Peanuts,” I said. I crouched down—an act that brought tears to my eyes—and gave the elephant a scratch on the head.
“Not Peanuts ,” McGlade said, walking in behind me. He scooped up the elephant and held him at eye level. “ Penis. Check out the size of his junk.”
The elephant did, indeed, have impressive junk.
“It’s like a second trunk,” McGlade marveled. “You want to touch it?”
He shoved the elephant in my face, its lengthy dong flopping around and threatening to take out one of my eyes.
“No thanks.”
“He’s a bonsai elephant.” McGlade set the pachyderm down. “That’s as big as he gets.”
“He’s . . .” I searched for a word that wasn’t derogatory.
“Very elephantish.”
“Yeah. I gotta get him a mate. Problem is, they’re so freakin’ expensive. I tried a few nonelephant surrogates. A cat and a poodle. He killed them both.”
“His tusks?”
“Naw. Slipping them the high, hard one.”
“Nice.” Wasn’t sure what else to say to that.
“They both sounded like they died happy. The poodle especially. Vet said it was a heart attack.”
“And the cat?” I asked, wondering why I cared.
“Internal bleeding. Here, take these.”
McGlade handed me six pills.
“What are they?”
“Morphine, hash, and valium.”
“There’s enough here to kill me, McGlade.”
“The other three are speed, so you don’t lapse into a coma. Take them and go shower. There’s a robe hanging in the bathroom.”
I noticed his apparel, which had more stains than there was space available. “Is the robe clean?”
“No. But after the pills, you won’t care.”
I took four of the pills, then hit the bathroom. The warm shower was both invigorating and painful, and then the drugs began to kick in and I was able to scrub my wounds with soap without crying for my mother.
I stepped out of the shower, pleasantly buzzed and feeling no pain, then toweled off and slipped into a robe that wasn’t too badly stained, though the fabric was a bit stiff in parts.
“I’m in the office!” McGlade called.
I walked to him with a spring in my step, thanks to the amphetamines. But it was a wobbly spring, thanks to the hash and valium. I’d skipped the morphine. That shit put me to sleep.
The satisfied smile on my face dropped off when I saw what McGlade had spread out on his table.
Surgical tools. A lot of them. Silver and sharp and shiny in the overhead lights.
“What’s all that for, McGlade?”
“This is why you came to me, isn’t it, Talon? They switched off your headphone, and you want it working again. Right?”
“Yeah.” But now I wasn’t so sure.
“How do you think that’ll happen? Hope and a head massage?”
As I stood there the room began to wobble, so I grabbed the doorway for support. “Have you done this before?”
“Four times. Two of them successful. I’m charging you five thousand credits for this, by the way. That includes patching up your arm and hand.”
“I also have some broken ribs.”
“We’ll call it an even fifty-five hundred. Though tipping isn’t discouraged.”
The doorway began to wobble as well. “I dunno about this, McGlade.”
“Don’t worry. Penis is here to help.”
Penis was standing on the table, holding a scalpel in his trunk. I giggled, because the thought of a miniature elephant sticking a knife in my ear
I scraped my shoe off on the carpet, figuring he’d never notice, and found Peanuts in McGlade’s office, curled up on the floor. At first I couldn’t tell what it was. Brown and hairy and lumpy, about the size of the raccoon I’d fed earlier. Then it looked up and me, shook its floppy ears, and gave me a deep, loud trumpet.
Peanuts was a genetically modified African elephant.
It trumpeted again, its tiny trunk sticking out like a bugle, and then padded up to me on little round feet. When he reached my leg he bumped my shin with its head. His tusks were capped with cork.
“Hello, Peanuts,” I said. I crouched down—an act that brought tears to my eyes—and gave the elephant a scratch on the head.
“Not Peanuts ,” McGlade said, walking in behind me. He scooped up the elephant and held him at eye level. “ Penis. Check out the size of his junk.”
The elephant did, indeed, have impressive junk.
“It’s like a second trunk,” McGlade marveled. “You want to touch it?”
He shoved the elephant in my face, its lengthy dong flopping around and threatening to take out one of my eyes.
“No thanks.”
“He’s a bonsai elephant.” McGlade set the pachyderm down. “That’s as big as he gets.”
“He’s . . .” I searched for a word that wasn’t derogatory.
“Very elephantish.”
“Yeah. I gotta get him a mate. Problem is, they’re so freakin’ expensive. I tried a few nonelephant surrogates. A cat and a poodle. He killed them both.”
“His tusks?”
“Naw. Slipping them the high, hard one.”
“Nice.” Wasn’t sure what else to say to that.
“They both sounded like they died happy. The poodle especially. Vet said it was a heart attack.”
“And the cat?” I asked, wondering why I cared.
“Internal bleeding. Here, take these.”
McGlade handed me six pills.
“What are they?”
“Morphine, hash, and valium.”
“There’s enough here to kill me, McGlade.”
“The other three are speed, so you don’t lapse into a coma. Take them and go shower. There’s a robe hanging in the bathroom.”
I noticed his apparel, which had more stains than there was space available. “Is the robe clean?”
“No. But after the pills, you won’t care.”
I took four of the pills, then hit the bathroom. The warm shower was both invigorating and painful, and then the drugs began to kick in and I was able to scrub my wounds with soap without crying for my mother.
I stepped out of the shower, pleasantly buzzed and feeling no pain, then toweled off and slipped into a robe that wasn’t too badly stained, though the fabric was a bit stiff in parts.
“I’m in the office!” McGlade called.
I walked to him with a spring in my step, thanks to the amphetamines. But it was a wobbly spring, thanks to the hash and valium. I’d skipped the morphine. That shit put me to sleep.
The satisfied smile on my face dropped off when I saw what McGlade had spread out on his table.
Surgical tools. A lot of them. Silver and sharp and shiny in the overhead lights.
“What’s all that for, McGlade?”
“This is why you came to me, isn’t it, Talon? They switched off your headphone, and you want it working again. Right?”
“Yeah.” But now I wasn’t so sure.
“How do you think that’ll happen? Hope and a head massage?”
As I stood there the room began to wobble, so I grabbed the doorway for support. “Have you done this before?”
“Four times. Two of them successful. I’m charging you five thousand credits for this, by the way. That includes patching up your arm and hand.”
“I also have some broken ribs.”
“We’ll call it an even fifty-five hundred. Though tipping isn’t discouraged.”
The doorway began to wobble as well. “I dunno about this, McGlade.”
“Don’t worry. Penis is here to help.”
Penis was standing on the table, holding a scalpel in his trunk. I giggled, because the thought of a miniature elephant sticking a knife in my ear
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