Dr. Victor Crawford was too excited to notice the stiffness in his knuckles as he wrapped his
creaky fingers around the handle of his briefcase. The mid-morning sun warmed his bare scalp,
glinting off the patch of liver spots halfway between the top of his head and his right ear. He
smiled at the prospect of once again being able to run a comb through a lustrous head of hair.
Maybe they’d even let him choose the color.
Don’t get ahead of yourself, Vic. They still have to approve you for the procedure.
As he mentally went over his application materials for the fifth time that morning, rehearsing his
answers for the questions the interview panel would likely ask, his son, driving a grey four-door
sedan, pulled up to the curb and honked at him. His excitement gave him a bounce in his step he
hadn’t felt since he was a much younger man. Even the aches in his knees seemed to disappear.
And yet, as he opened the passenger door, a mild and unfamiliar dread seeped into his thoughts.
“Thanks for the ride, Neil,” Victor said as he slid into the seat.
“Of all the people you could have called for a ride, why me?” Neil asked, putting the car in gear.
Victor frowned as he clicked the seatbelt in place, knowing he was fully capable of driving
himself. The State of California disagreed, however, having pulled his license three years ago
after he caused a three-car collision. Given his advanced age and the cost of the damages, his
insurance company had also dropped him. He had appealed both decisions and lost. If today
went well, he’d soon be driving again. Among his first errands would be to the DMV to rub it in
their faces.
“A father needs an excuse to see his son?” Victor replied.
“You’ve been getting along just fine without me,” Neil said.
“Modern conveniences make it so I don’t usually need to leave home. It was easier than I
thought to set up a research area in my living room, and with the internet, it’s like being back in
my old laboratory.” Victor chuckled. “Though I do miss the office gossip.”
“Sounds great,” Neil said flatly. “It’s probably better than living with me and the kids.”
“I never said that,” Victor protested.
“You didn’t have to.”
The pair sat in uncomfortable silence as Neil merged onto the freeway. Victor focused on the
sound of the car’s engine. It ran smooth and easy. Neil had been taking good care of it. The
thought brought a small smile to Victor’s face. He’d taught his son well.
“So,” he said, breaking the silence. “We’re making remarkable progress on the ion drive.”
“Uh-huh,” Neil said, keeping his eyes on the road.
“We hit a minor setback a few months ago though. The wiring blew out during a low-intensity
test of the energy transfer from the fuel converter to the engine.” He forced a laugh. “We all
damn-near browned our trousers when the engine blew. Took a month’s worth of additional
testing to realize the drive was generating nearly eight times the estimated thrust power. Had to
rewire the whole thing with a military-grade insulated cable. My idea, by the way.”
“That so?” Neil said, flatly.
“Eight times the thrust!” Victor turned his chest and shoulders toward Neil. His skin twitched
with excitement. “Don’t you see what that means?”
Neil shrugged.
“It means that, as a species, we’re closer than ever to being able to travel quickly between extra-
terrestrial bodies. We can send manned missions into interstellar space. We can launch satellites
and probes far deeper into space than we ever have on accelerated timelines.” He rolled his
hands as he spoke. “I mean, I admire the team that launched the two Voyager probes in the
1970s, but the limited thrusters on those craft needed over forty years to propel them into
interstellar space.”
Victor didn’t notice how condescending his tone had become, nor did he notice Neil turn toward
him with a mildly irritated expression.
“I still have so much work to do to ensure the ion drive is safe for use on large spacecraft. I also
need to test the upper ranges of its propulsion capabilities to see the maximum speeds it can
reach. There’s been talk around the lab of using it to propel a mobile space station, large-scale
resource-mining craft, not to mention commercial flights.” Victor turned and gazed down at his
stiff, wrinkled hands. “I just need more time.”
“Are you sure that’s what you really want?” Neil said.
“Of course!” Victor said. “It’s what I need. It’s what the world needs.”
Neil scoffed. “That’s a little self-aggrandizing, don’t you think?”
“Not at all,” Victor said, dismissively. “The sad reality is we as a species need to find another
home besides Earth. You’ve heard the United Nations’ evaluation of global warming?”
“I’ve heard a lot of conflicting reports,” he said in a disinterested tone. “I don’t know what to
believe.”
“Twenty years is the current estimate. Twenty years and the planet will be uninhabitable. And
from what I’ve heard, twenty years is a generous estimate. We need a viable option for quickly
transporting large numbers of people and supplies off-planet to settle throughout the solar system
and beyond.”
Neil scoffed again. “Where would people go? Last I checked, Earth was the only planet with
things like water and food and breathable air.”
“Another division of the lab is working on that. Making some remarkable progress, too. But I’m
not sure they’ll have the exo-habitats ready in time. We’ve all still got so much work to do.”
“And if you get approved for the ‘re-body’ procedure, that’s what you’ll do. More work?”
Victor’s eyebrows arched in surprise. “Haven’t you heard anything I’ve been saying?”
“I’ve heard my dad talk endlessly about his job, himself, and how important he is. Which is
funny, because before today, I haven’t heard from him in three years. And when I do, big
surprise, it’s because he needs something.” Neil’s voice thick with condescension.
“You’re right. I do need something. I need to convince the interview panel that I deserve a life-
extension. My work stands on its own, but they need to see that I should be the one to continue it
rather than handing it off to some lesser mind without a comprehensive understanding of
astrophysics and aeronautical engineering.”
“Right. Because no one will ever be smarter than you,” Neil said. “Let’s see how smart you are.
How old is your grandson?”
Victor’s lip curled into a wrinkly snarl. “He’s…” Victor stopped and thought. Damn it, how old
was Carl?
Was it Carl?
Or was it Kyle?
“He’s eight years old,” he said with confidence.
“He turned eight four years ago,” Neil said
Victor’s stomach felt heavy and closed his eyes for longer than a normal blink. “I suppose I
missed his last birthday.”
“You’ve missed the last three, but that’s only a fraction compared to how many of mine you
missed,” Neil said. “But hey, at least with Kyle, you’re still beating the spread.”Victor shook his head. “I can’t change the past, son. Maybe I missed a few birthdays–”
“And Christmases, Thanksgivings, football games, my high school graduation,” Neil interrupted.
“Yes, fine. I wasn’t there sometimes,” Victor began to shout. “But if I get re-bodied, I can be
there in the future.”
“You could be.” Neil paused. He took his eyes off the road long enough to turn and look his
father in the eye. “But you won’t.”
“You’re so sure?” Victor said, angry.
“Just making an educated guess based on past observations,” Neil said. “Say the review panel
approves your application. Once they put your brain in a new body, you’ll go back to working
sixteen-hour days. You’ll never take the time to come see us because your work is too important
or whatever bullshit you tell yourself to justify spending all your time in the lab.” Neil glanced at
his father over his right shoulder. “You know what happened when I told the kids I needed to
take you to your interview today? Jenny said, ‘I thought Grandpa already went to heaven.’ She’s
six now, by the way.”
Victor didn’t say anything. He searched through his memories, past the schematics for various
elements of engines and propulsion systems and corresponding equations, to a newborn baby girl
with a full head of stringy black hair and pinkish skin, big blue eyes half open as she slept in her
mother’s arms. One, singular image frozen neatly in the past. But nothing current. He tried to
imagine a six-year-old Jenny and the confused look on her face when she found out her grandpa
was still alive. His heart sank, and he stared out the window at the scenery along the side of the
freeway.
Eventually Neil broke the silence. “What happens if you don’t make it?”
“Well, I can’t be sure, but my application materials are strong, so–”
“No, I mean, what if something goes wrong and you die during the procedure?” Neil said,
slightly exasperated.
That uneasy feeling crept back into him, settling itself in the middle of his chest. “The procedure
is quite safe. The host bodies are grown to full, adult maturity. They’re perfect blank slates until
they’re infused with the new owner’s DNA to eliminate the risk of rejection. I go to sleep, and I
wake up with my brain, my consciousness, and my knowledge, but in the body of a twenty-five-
year-old man.”
“What if you don’t wake up?” Neil said. “Are you comfortable with the knowledge that you
might die never having gotten to know your grandchildren? That you had the opportunity to be a
part of their lives, but chose not to?”

“It’s never been much of a choice,” Victor protested.
“You always had a choice,” Neil snapped. “And you made it.”
“You’ve seen the state of the world we’re leaving to our future generations. I’m one of the few
people who can fix it, who can make sure they have a future worth living in. Who do you think
I’m doing all this for, if not them?
“Ever look in a mirror?” Neil said.
Victor paused. Why couldn’t his son see? Why couldn’t he make Neil see why his work was so
important? Victor shook with frustration.
“Has it occurred to you that, if you get re-bodied, you’ll outlive me? Hell, you might even
outlive your grandkids,” Neil said. “You really want to live long enough to bury us?”
Neil had a point, one Victor had not previously considered.
No parent wants to bury their child, much less their grandchildren.
Victor suddenly felt like he was falling.
Neil exited the freeway, the building for the Musk Foundation for Applied Sciences looming
over the off-ramp.
Victor fidgeted with his hands. He’d waited long enough to say it. “Look, I know things have
been strained between us recently. That’s why I called you for a ride.”
His son turned a curious, but skeptical look on him. “Recently?” Neil said with a snorting laugh.
“Fine. For a long time.” Victor waved his hand in front of himself like he was erasing a
chalkboard. “The point is, I was hoping we could reconnect. Find some sort of peace or mutual
understanding.”
“And you think a thirty minute car-ride would do that?” The incredulity reverberated in Neil’s
voice.
“It’s a start.”
“And you always finish what you start, don’t you.”
“I do my best.”
Neil scoffed again. “If you say so.”
Moments later, Neil stopped the car in an elongated, circular driveway. Outside the passenger
window, a sign read, “Five Minute Drop-Off Zone. No Parking.”
Victor gripped his briefcase and opened the passenger door. His knees and hips creaked and he
let out a small grunt as he stood up. His right ankle popped as he put his full weight on it, a
recurring reminder of his age. He gazed back at his son. “Neil, I…” He fumbled for words,
searching for something that would make everything right. “Thanks for the lift.”
Neil gave him a cursory nod. “Good luck, dad.” He offered Victor a smile without warmth.
Victor closed the car door and Neil drove off. He turned and faced the tall, gray-scale building,
taking a cleansing breath before heading toward the main entrance. He tried to rehearse his pitch
for the hundredth time. All he could focus on was trying to remember when his son and
grandchildren’s birthdays were.