The Skinner's Revenge. Chris Karsten

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ the rest?” he asked the surgeon.

      “The rest is a walk in the park.”

      Dr Lippens sounded smug – almost disdainful – because his own face needed no modification. His features were in perfect proportion.

      “A weekend facelift – that’s all it is. The procedure takes only a few hours. I don’t think you want the whole bang shoot of dewrinkling and rejuvenation and unnecessary surgery.”

      “No,” agreed the patient. No unnecessary surgery. Even when the scalpel was in his own hand, he never made unnecessary cuts.

      “I hate to say it, but when I’m done with you, you won’t recognise yourself. Guaranteed – or your money back.”

      “How long is the recovery period?”

      “Two nights in hospital to make sure everything is fine, that there’s no infection or anything. Then two weeks at home – at most, my friend. After two weeks the swelling will be gone, and no one will ever guess you’ve had work done to your face. Do you want to go ahead?”

      My friend?

      “Yes. Do it.”

      “A good decision. You won’t regret it.”

      Dr Lippens got up, returned with a camera.

      “Photos?” The patient was worried. He didn’t like photographs of himself. No one had ever taken a picture of him, even as a child. There had been no album with baby photos; his childhood had gone undocumented. He knew of only one photo: him at the age of thirteen, standing between his mother and his granny, their faces severe, no smiles for the camera. That was the only photo.

      “The photos are for the procedure – I use them as an aid on the operating table,” said the surgeon. “Artists follow the same method. Portrait artists and sculptors all work with models. It’s been the custom for centuries – no, millennia. Michelangelo used models for his huge marble works.”

      “I’m not looking for a replica of my own face. I actually want a different face.”

      “The photos help with the proportions. The proportions are important, even if the features change.”

      “Take photos of your own face – you have good proportions. I want a sharper nose, like yours. And a more prominent chin, like yours.”

      “You flatter me, Mr Lomas.”

      “And my ears stick out.”

      “The photos are still necessary, even if you only want your features refined. Once I’ve uploaded them on my computer, I’ll have a better idea of the modifications we need, and I can take exact measurements and plan the whole procedure before the first incision.”

      The patient sat frozen in front of the flashing camera.

      “It’s not just about cutting and hoping for the best, Mr Lomas. I’m not a cowboy.”

      You should see my work, thought the patient. You should see the delicate work I do with a scalpel.

      “Yes,” said Dr Lippens, studying the photos on his computer screen. “Your face needs a lot of work, that is clear. And if it’s what you want, I’ll use my own proportions as a template. Perhaps superimpose my face on your photo and see how we can help you. How does that sound?”

      The patient remained silent. It was his dream, no, his obsession, to superimpose a face onto his own.

      But not this doctor’s face.

      No, the tender, softly tanned skin of a young woman. And not on a photograph. He wanted to pull on her face over his, feel her skin caressing his own.

      Dr Lippens returned to his chair and moved slightly closer, again reaching out to the patient’s face with his fingers. The patient stiffened, but allowed the surgeon to go ahead. After all, this was how he examined his donors’ skins on his own operating table.

      “The nose is the most important element,” the surgeon said. “The nose is smack in the middle of the face, the aesthetic focal point. It lends strength to the face, and character. The science of physiognomy is centuries old, you know. Even the ancient Greeks judged a man by looking at his features.”

      “When can you begin?”

      “A tenth of a second. That’s how long it takes to judge someone’s personality at first glance: he cares, he can be trusted, he’s aggressive, he’s an introvert, he’s thorough, he’s dishonest … Did you know that, Mr Lomas?”

      “I want the photos when you’ve finished.”

      “As a memento? Sure, I’ll put them on a memory stick for you. But I always keep photos of my patients. For the record. Have you heard of the halo of attraction?”

      The patient shook his head, his thoughts focused on the photos that would remain on the surgeon’s computer.

      “The halo of attraction … People who are considered attractive get more Valentine’s cards, are considered more socially acceptable, sexually alluring, intelligent, happy, healthy. They are popular and are treated more sympathetically – even by the courts.”

      “What about a face that can’t be trusted?” the patient inquired. He did not trust the doctor’s face.

      “The corners of the mouth turn down, the eyebrows form a V.”

      “What about a baby face?”

      “Someone with a baby face – and I’m not saying you have one – is seen as naïve, a bit of a mommy’s boy.”

      The patient had read about physiognomy, even about ethology and phrenology, and a lot about lazy eyes. And especially about men who are scorned and derided and nicknamed Babyface. The surgeon didn’t know – or had forgotten, the patient suspected – about spots on the wings and bodies of certain butterflies, moths and fish that emulate eyes to confuse and evade predators. The principle was also applicable to a man with a baby face: the first impression, arrived at within a tenth of a second, was that the person was innocent and submissive. But just as the moth’s false eye was not a real eye, the owner of the baby face was not a baby. The patient knew that from personal experience.

      “The chin is almost as important as the nose,” said the surgeon, measuring the patient’s features with sliding callipers. “The chin lends balance and harmony to the face. We’ll definitely have to do something about your chin. Or, in your case, your lack of a chin.”

      “And the ears.” The patient looked at the long, black hairs on the back of the doctor’s fingers, inhaled the smell of his skin.

      “Yes,” said Dr Lippens, his eager breath on the patient’s cheek. “The ears must be proportionate to the size and shape of the face and head. We’ll work on the ears, push them back against the skull, prune back the cartilage and skin to get the desired effect.”

      “Like yours.”

      “Exactly,” said Dr Lippens. “If I may СКАЧАТЬ