"That's right," the doctor said, smiling. "The procedure was a complete success." He turned and grabbed a mirror from the bedside table. "Say hello to the new you," he said, holding the mirror up in front of Biff's face.
Biff stared at his reflection. He was black. The face looked nothing like his. All of his hair had been shaved off as well, even his eyebrows. He didn't have the strength to sit up.
"You see...your school is overwhelmingly Caucasian. You have only a handful of other races. There is also a lack of people not native to this country. If we get enough minority representation, there aren't just public grants, but private ones as well. It is the wave of the future."
He tried to say something, but the doctor stopped him again. "We did some work on your vocal chords. The new techniques are very impressive, almost like magic. It is mostly gene therapy. You'll be able to talk soon enough. We had to shave your head, but we have this hair growth stimulation process that should regrow it in record time. And we have McMillan Industries Research and Development to thank for all of this."
Watching on a monitor, Denise Brewster dialed a number on her cell phone. "Yes, sir. As you directed, we rigged the testing to make sure he was part of the group. Biff Meadows...if we can even call him that anymore, won't be fooling around with your daughter anymore."
"When you are done there for the day, come up to my office, Denise. I want to talk about your future with the company," Richard McMillan said. He hung up the phone and smiled.
