Too bad that's not all it would take for Siewen or the Freak, Barton thought wryly.

"Plastic insert breasts are common these days," Parr went on, "but a padded bra would do the job nearly as well, unless one of you is a fetishist." Parr never knew how close he was, then, to sudden violence; Barton didn't let his face show what he felt.

Parr paused; it was a habit he had. "I realize the head and face are your major concern, Mr. Barton." Well, about tinsel "I assume you realize a wig will be needed.

along with false eyelashes and stick-on eyebrows." Bar- ton nodded; would this sonofabitch ever get to the point?

"And dentures, of course." Of course. *The tongue is beyond my skills; amputation''of muscular tissue cannot be reversed at this time."

But the face, you fool, you goddam fool; the face.

"Our remaining problems," said Parr, "and they are the most important ones, of course, are the nose, the ears and the lips." Barton braced himself.

"I can make her a good nose by use of cartilage grafts, with perhaps a bit of plastic implanting if need be; the skin will stretch and bond to it. I will not guarantee to match your paintings exactly because these things don't work that predictably, but I can promise you a present- able and even a handsome nose."

He hesitated. "Mr. Barton, I couldn't guarantee you a thing about trying to restore the ears. Skin, even grafted skin, won't stretch and bond dependably, around the extensive concave angles that make up much of nor- mal ear structure." Parr sighed. "I suggest you settle for cosmetic prostheses, soft-plastic ear-cups."

75.

Well, if it had to be ... the wig would cover them, anyway.

The lips, now.

"The mouth presents a real problem." Yeh, let me tell you what the problem is. Well, he would in a min- ute, Barton thought.

"Tissue has been cut away in sawtoothed notches at about a 45-degree angle, nearly a quarter of an inch into both upper and lower lips. The question is whether to cut back to a smooth line or try to divert some of the tissue from the tips of the serrations into the deepest part of the gaps. The one alternative would shorten facial length.

nearly half an inch; the other might leave wrinkles in the lips, even though we'd use stitchless bonding at the surface layers. In either case we must semi-detach and stretch some mucous membrane of the mouth's inner lining to constitute the outer visible lip tissue when the operation is complete, and this is always chancy. It might not hold, or it might contract and puH the lips in- ward. The least risky alternative is to cut back all the way and make do with the shortened facial structure."

No, Doctor; safer than that is to hang yourself.

There was more discussion; Barton hadn't got it all straight on the first reading, and he needed to have it very straight indeed. He thanked Parr and told him he'd be in touch in a day or two. As an afterthought he asked the doctor to remove the cast from his arm; it came off like peeling a banana. Then Barton left and talked to the dentist, whose name he could never remember for more than five minutes, and to Tarleton, who gave him the full authorization he needed.

Barton was becoming accustomed to having to get authorization for things; it had taken him a while to realize that other people had to have some say-so. But with Tarleton it wasn't so bad.

Then he went home. Limila had dinner hot on the range for him; she herself was eating some kind of damn mush, as usuaL Barton could have kicked himself.

"Hi, Limila," he said; she was answering him these days. "We've got some things to talk about."

"Hello, Barton. All right. You eat first, though." Her ragged mouth bent, and Barton realized she was trying to smile. She hadn't given him the Demu lifted-tongue smile since the first night they'd slept together. But only slept . ..

Barton ate, he had developed a good appetite, mostly

76.

for high-protein foods. He wasn't putting on any weight;

thank Heaven for small favors. ..

Then he had to talk. "Limila . . ." he said, and began to tell her slowly and haltingly, starting from where he himself had started with Eeshta's pronunciation aid, all of what he and Dr. Parr had discussed.

He got only a short way into it when Limila started crying and couldn't stop. Barton said a little more, but it didn't help. He caught and held her to him; that didn't help, either. Then he got mad.

"Don't you want to get back more to yourself?" he shouted, holding and shaking her by the shoulders. Her soft fingertips with no nails moved on bis face; instinc- tively, she was trying to claw him. His anger vanished;

he realized she was fighting the revival of hope, that she couldn't stand to have it and lose it again. Barton could understand; he'd been through it.

He gentled her, gradually. And finally ventured speech again.

"Limila," he whispered, where her ear should have been, ''won't you at least listen to what can be done and decide how much of U you want to try?" She nodded against his face.

"But not now. Barton, not tonight. It's too much to ac- cept. I can't." They held each other tightly. But that's as far as it went, even later in bgd together.

The next day they could and did talk it out. Barton worked from his notes, in order; it was the only way he could think to do it. Parr had said that even a stiff cartilage toe would help in walking balance, so Limila reluctantly agreed to have both feet chopped open again, if it might help. Not the hands, though; who needs a stiff finger? She did want Barton to find out whether a graft could minimize the unsightly jog at the wrist, where the Demu had stripped away the two fingers. Barton made a note; it was something he hadn't thought to ask.

Emphatically, Limila wanted her belly free of the simu- lated Demu sex-organ pattern. She didn't care about a navel one way or the other, but Barton thought she should have one so she agreed. Somehow, though, he couldn't bring himself to argue in the matter of external genitalia; it was a little too personal, or something.

"Many Tilaran women," she told him, "are circumcised much this same way. It was a beauty fad of some years ago." Barton suddenly realized there was a hell of a lot

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he didn't know about the Tilari culture. Well, he'd never asked.

Breasts? "I don't know. Barton," she said. "Dead plas- tic lumps under my skin? But yet they might make my body feel better-balanced again." She cupped her hands, one at each side of the lower edge of her ribcage.

Barton laughed, and gently moved her hands higher.

"No, more like this, Limila. You're on Earth now.

Haven't you noticed?"

Angrily she pushed his hands away. "I am a Tilari woman. Barton. I will have Tilari breasts or none at all.'*

"But-" he began. She shook her bead, would not lis- ten to him. "Oh well; skip it for now. You and the doc do whatever you decide between the two of you. But-"

He wasn't getting anyplace, so finally be did skip it.

She nodded absently at his mention of wigs and so forth. Barton asked if she'd like to have one right away, and maybe the dentures. She shook her head.

"With this face? No, thank you. Barton. I prefer the hood and veiL" Limila had added a half veil to the Demu garb, for working with humans, hiding everything but her eyes. Only at home with Barton would she show her face.

She was disappointed that nothing could be done about her tongue, but moderately cheered by Barton's reminder of the prosthesis that had corrected Eeshta's pronunciation. And she was unhappy that Dr. Parr felt he could not rebuild her ears.

"I suppose you had better have him provide the plastic ones," she said. "1 do not know if you would have no- ticed, but my directional hearing is almost absent. The cups of the ears serve that function." Barton kicked him- self again for having taken so long to think of doing any- thing about Limila's difficulties. Oh sure; he'd had his own problems, as Tarleton had pointed out. But was that excuse really good enough?

Her first real enthusiasm was for Parr's confidence in his ability to recreate her nose. "Oh, Barton! That will be so wonderful. I hate this face, and that is a thing I hate most about it. But what about . . . ?" She touched her lips.

In a quiet voice he told her the two choices Parr had given.

She had to think about them. "If he tries to spread tissue to fill these in," she said, touching a finger to one