Leo Frankowski

industry. Mr.
Scratchon’s book, The Death of an Economy , is climbing the bestseller
lists. On my left we have Dr. Martin Guibedo. Dr. Guibedo is Professor Emeritus
of Biochemistry from Dallas State College and the inventor of these
trees.”
    “What do you
mean, inventor of the tree? Trees have been a long time around. I only showed
them how to grow all comfortable on the inside, so we ain’t gotta chop them
down no more.”
    “Uh.” Patricia glanced
at her list of question “Dr. Guibedo, I understand that
you have never written a paper on your genetic modification technique, nor have
you applied for a patent. Is it your intention to keep this new science entirely
to yourself?”
    “Well, the
science was all figured out five years ago. What is left is the engineering. I
never wrote a paper on it because genetic engineering has been banned for five
years. Nobody would have accepted a paper if I had written one.”
    “Banned?” Patricia
asked. “You mean it’s against the law?”
    “Not exactly. But
anybody working on it has a hard time getting a job later. A journal that
published an article on it might lose its federal subsidy. And, of course,
trying to get grants to work on genetic engineering is like trying to get money
to find out the causes of aging. Impossible. The big shots have a lot of ways
of pushing people around.”
    “So you’re
keeping this to yourself out of spite?” Patricia asked.
    “Not spite.
Nobody hurt me, but nobody helped me. I did this myself, with my own money. The
results and the responsibility are mine. Patty, you gotta understand that this
genetic engineering thing could get out of hand. If I let just anybody do it,
some big shot would start making himself an army! Better I keep this whole
thing quiet.”
    “Quiet?”
Scratchon exploded. “You’ve given away two hundred of the things
and they’re already breeding like maggots!”
    “Maggots don’t
breed, Burty.” Guibedo’s thirty years of teaching showed. “Maggots are
the larval form of the adult housefly, which does the breeding. My tree houses
don’t breed, either. Asexual reproduction maintains the purity of each strain
so that—”
    “Technicalities
have nothing to do with the economic impact of free housing, without even
government supervision, on a free economy. Already housing starts are down
four percent compared to last year. The building trades are facing massive
layoffs, and the mortgage market is in a slump. This will have repercussions
throughout the entire economy. The stability of the nation, of the entire free
world, is being threatened by your hideous weeds!”
    “Dr. Guibedo, you
brought some photographs of your latest creation?” Patricia was a
moderator intent on moderating,
    “Sure, Patty. I
brought a whole bunch. These first ones are of Ashley, where I live in.”
    “But the rooms
are so huge!” Patricia said.
    “Eight thousand
square feet all together, Patty. It didn’t cost anything to make it bigger than
a regular house. I had an acre of land, and I figured I might as well furnish
it good. This picture is in the living room. The furniture is all grown
in—”
    “There goes the
furniture industry!” Scratchon said.
    “—except the
fireplace. This one is the bedroom. By the window is Laurel. She’s gonna be a
honey, that one. Growing here is the bed and the cupboard. Hey! There’s my
suit. I was looking for it!”
    “You keep your
suit rolled up in a cupboard?” Scratchon asked.
    “Drawers are hard
to grow. This is the bathroom. The absorption toilet was the hardest part.
Keeping roots from plugging up the sewer pipe is tricky when the sewer pipe is
a root. I finally solved it by having the house grow a new toliet when the old
one gets plugged. You see, the tree needs human excrement to—”
    “Is this the
kitchen?” Patricia asked. Toilets indeed !
    “Sure. This is
the table and chairs. You don’t need a stove and refrigerator because in these
cupboards Ashley makes all my food.”
    “My God!”
Scratchon interrupted. “You’re attacking the food industry, too! Isn’t it
enough to threaten the job of every carpenter and dry-wall installer in the
country? You’ve got to starve out the fanners, too?”
    “What starve? It
makes food, not takes it away. Anyway, them farmers got nothing to worry
about. I mean, the sukiyaki is pretty good, but the crepes suzette are only
fair. And the sauerbraten! Ach, the sauerbraten. My mother would