Alguém conhece o título de um conto de ficção científica
"Whatever Became of the McGowans?", a novelette by Michael G. Coney, first published in Galaxy Magazine, May 1970, available at the Internet Archive.
que termina com o protagonista crescendo raízes e afundando-as no solo, encontrando a paz.
At last the tendrils on his feet probed moisture below the surface and the fluid rose into his body, satisfying a craving that had possessed him for days. Once again contentment stole through his senses and he felt his heart slow until it became an occasional spasmodic flicker.
Contudo não acaba aí: o homem e sua família acabam em um hospital na Terra:
"I'm glad to see you're awake. Now, first of all, I want you to know that your wife and child are all right. You are in the Earth Rehabilitation Center and I am talking to you through this machine because for the time being you will not understand normal speech. My name is Dr. Svenson and from time to time I sit beside you—on the chair you will see beside your bed."
Você adicionou alguns detalhes em um comentário:
Certeza de que eram 70s ou 80s e em uma antologia.
Se estava em inglês, deve ter sido Melhor ficção científica do mundo 1971, editado por Donald A. Wollheim e Terry Carr.
O personagem diminui gradualmente
Sim, isso acontece gradualmente. No início:
"Richard, what on Earth are you doing?"
Sandra was standing at the barn door, her brown hair a halo in the sunlight. But her expression was ominous.
"Just seeing to the harvester. What's the trouble?"
"Do you know what the time is?"
"About eleven-thirty?"
"It's past two, we haven't had lunch. What have you been doing?"
Bewildered, Richard shoved up his sleeve with the back of his hand to keep the oil from his sweater. He studied his watch. She was right. Its hands stood at two-fifteen. Had he fallen asleep, dozed, daydreamed, idled between chores? He couldn't remember doing so.
No final:
Richard saw the chair and saw also that it was in almost constant jiggling motion. From time to time he thought he could make out a sitting, semi-transparent figure.
"I can't see you properly," Richard addressed the phantom.
A slow fear was beginning to flow through him, driving away his lethargy.
"That is because I am not always here," replied the tape recorder. "Time has accelerated for you. When you spoke I had time to replay your remark at high speed, then record my reply and play it back to you at reduced speed—but I don't suppose you noticed any time lag."
e eu acho que para de comer
He wandered back indoors. The tray was on the kitchen table, where he had left it. How long was it since he had last eaten?
Three days? Four? He couldn't remember. The time lapse bothered him. Deciding that he would in any event, have a good substantial supper later tonight, he drank the remains of his glass of home-made wine, then followed it with a glass of cold water. Presently, he began to feel hungry, just a little.
Em outro comentário, você disse que esse solicitante parecia estar procurando a mesma história. Alguns pontos dessa outra consulta:
Algum tempo atrás, nos 80s, li um artigo sobre SF, onde os humanos estavam colonizando um novo planeta.
Sim, o planeta se chama Jade:
Several hundred other customers of the Jade Exploitation Company were, he believed, scattered among the valleys and along the coast of the planet's only continent. Not that their presence made much difference—the distances separating homesteads made visiting impractical. Each settler had his own place to look after.
Lembro-me de que algumas pessoas começaram a desaparecer e pode ter havido uma investigação.
Sim, os colonos da fazenda vizinha, os McGowans do título, desapareceram:
The wire fence dividing his spread from the McGowans was down. The stainless thread trailed a random silvery path through the grass. As the McGowans were no longer around he hadn't bothered to repair the barrier and noticed, with a pleasurable thrill of dishonesty, that the grass grew even better on the other side. At harvesting time he would reap their grass as well as his own and profit by the proceeds—it would save the crop's going to waste. If the McGowans ever came back he could always pay them for it, less a deduction for labor.
In front of the McGowan household a small clump of trees provided a cool and tempting patch of shade. He sat down, his back against the largest bale, and regarded the house. It was bigger than his own and in a good state of repair, despite at least two years' disuse.
