John Ringo - There Will Be Dragons

“The point being,” Daneh said with a thin-lipped smile, “that Herzer’s condition, his spasmodic movements, used to be if not ‘common’ then at least something most children would encounter growing up. But when it started in him he was immediately ostracized as different and that, too, has been hard for him. He doesn’t need you referring to him as a ‘pithed frog.’ ”

“I won’t, Mother,” she replied. “I take it he’s not going to be shaking anymore?”

“No, and he’s going to live, which was touch and go there for a while.” Daneh sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed. “I almost lost him there at the end. That was why the standard med-bots couldn’t do anything; there was a very real chance he’d die in the process.”

“Ouch.” Rachel looked at her and took her hand. “But he is okay, right?”

“Right as rain,” the doctor replied. “I’ve never lost a patient. I knew a doctor once who did. She was… really brilliant but she’d never even consider a procedure after that. It took it right out of her. I really didn’t want to lose Herzer. He’s a very fine young man. Very determined. I think his illness was strengthening for him.”

“I’m glad he’s okay,” Rachel said. “I’m sorry about what I said. And… uh… speaking of procedures…”

Daneh narrowed her eyes and sighed. “What is it this time?”

“Well, you know that Marguerite’s birthday party is coming up, right?”

“I’m not going to let you have a body-sculpt, Rachel,” Daneh said lifting her chin and t’tching in negation. “We’ve been over this before.”

“But Mommm!” the teenager whined. “My body is disgusting . I’m too fat . My boobs are huge and my butt is the size of Mount Evert! Pleeease!?”

“You’re not too fat,” the doctor said definitively. “Your body mass index is square in the center of the charts; your nannites wouldn’t let it be anywhere else. And this… boyish look that is the current fad is not healthy, even for females who have been body sculpted. You can only pare away so far then you’re into reserves. Your friend Marguerite is probably below seven percent body fat. That’s not healthy. Barely so for a male and not for an unChanged female. And I’m not going to let you tinker with your DNA…”

“I know, Mom,” Rachel said with an exasperated sigh. “But… I just look like a cow . I’m sorry, but that’s how I feel.”

“Okay, just this once,” Daneh sighed. “And only for the party and only a bit . Stand up.”

Rachel bounced off the bed and held out the hologram projector, a thumb-sized cube of crystal. “I was looking at some styles. Can I have Varian Vixen?”

Daneh flipped up the style and shook her head. “Way too overboard,” she replied. “I’ll do a sculpt on abs, butt and boobs. That’s it. You go with the same face. You already have authority to do your hair.”

“Okay, Mother,” Rachel replied with a sigh.

Daneh considered her daughter’s body for a moment. In previous societies it would have been considered very near perfection. Like her mother, Rachel had high, firm breasts that were the size of a doubled fist, and rounded, muscular buttocks. Her stomach was as flat as a board and her hips jutted out from a thin waist in an almost perfect hourglass shape. The genetic design was a lucky favor more than anything; Daneh and Edmund had chosen to accept “natural” reproduction, in that a group of Edmund’s sperm fertilized a randomly chosen egg from Daneh and the result was popped in a uterine replicator without any tinkering (although the result was closely checked for genetic faults).

The current fad in body design, for humanoform females, was towards a flat-breasted, hipless, buttock-less shape that looked like an anorexic male or a dying lizard. It was inherently unhealthy and there was no way that Daneh was going to let Rachel look like that, and maintaining it required genetic mods that she especially was not going to permit. Admittedly, in two years Rachel would turn eighteen and be able to make whatever mistakes she wanted. But until then, a modicum of management seemed in order.

After a moment’s thought Daneh brought up a body-mod program and with a series of hand gestures sculpted the breasts and buttocks down and, as a benefit, pulled an almost unnoticeable amount of cellulite off the backs of her daughter’s legs. It was a buildup that was well within limits of the body design, but she also could stand to lose it. Unlike the work on Herzer, all of it was completed in one rush of nannites and energy fields that left Rachel, still standing, looking… much the same. Just… shaved in places.

Rachel, however, was reasonably happy about the shaving.

“Thanks, Mom,” she said, looking down, then summoning a projection so that she could see the whole job. “I don’t suppose…”

“No, that’s as much as I’ll take off,” Daneh said. “And, since you’re still in growth mode, most of it will come back over time. But that will get you through the party.”

“Thanks.”

“Hmmm… when is this party?”

“On Saturday,” she said in an absolutely neutral tone.

“You were supposed to be visiting your father on Saturday,” Daneh said.

“I… called and told him I couldn’t come.”

“In person? Avatar? Projection?” Daneh asked, icily.

“I… left a message with his butler-bot,” the girl said, hanging her head.

“Rachel…” her mother started to say then stopped. “I know that dealing with Edmund can be… hard. But he’s your father and he loves you. And I know you don’t hate him. Can’t you give him some of your time?”

“Oh, mother he’s an old stick !” the girl snapped. “He, he, he wants me to wear dresses and wimples for Lu’s sake! I know he’s going to want me to come as the ‘Princess of Easterling’ or something like that to that stupid Faire he has each year! I won’t !”

“You used to like the Renn Faire,” Daneh said soothingly. So did I, for that matter.

“So did you, ” Rachel said, as if reading her mind. “I got over it, mother. The whole thing is stupid . Dressing up in medieval or twentieth-century garb. Having maypole dances. Discoing!? I notice you don’t wear your bell-bottoms much these days, Mother .”

“So, getting back to the subject at hand,” Daneh said, quickly shifting ground. “You’re not going to visit your father because you don’t want to go to Renn Faire?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” the girl replied. “I might go to Renn. But just as a mundane. I’m not going in period. Not even post-modern.”

“You need to see your father more,” Daneh said. “It makes him terribly unhappy when you avoid him.”

“If you want him to be happy, why don’t you go visit him?” Rachel snapped back.

Daneh worked her jaw for a moment, then turned around and left.

“Hello, old fiend,” Talbot said as he stepped into the familiar heat of the forge.

The room was dominated on one end by a massive furnace. The design was not a classic Ropasan medieval furnace, nor was it a later period blast furnace. Rather it was a replica of a Chitan design dating to the first millennia a.d. The design was technically “period” for the broad zone of the Ropasan Middle Ages, but it was much better than anything that Ropasa had during the time frame. It also had a secret within it.

“Hello, O meat-bag,” said a voice from the furnace. “Gimme just a minute.”