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C H A P T E R
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The
data center was in the underground level of the Blossom building.
Apart from the storage rooms one expected to find, Thaddeus'
office area could easily have been on the ground floor. Besides
himself, Thad had four people in his department. The quartet
was young, their college diplomas scarcely a year old. However,
their considerable skill with databases was undeniable. They
were also confirmed hard-core techno-geeks. Thad listened to
their jargon-laden banter as they crunched data into meaningful
information. The quartet obviously liked its work, and dressed
according to the style of the current 'radical' generation.
Each member of the quartet wore
black loafers, loose-fitting gray pants, and a short-sleeved
white shirt. Two of the members were women. Prominent bulges
within their shirts gave proof of their gender. Had glasses
still been necessary for vision correction, then the foursome
would've worn them. Instead, they had ponytails that ended in
knots laced with old-fashioned rubber bands. An adult (in a
prolong society, that was anyone over the age of 50) would look
at these young people with the same disdain an adult would give
to a Gen-X'er back in the late 1990's. The current batch of
young people on Terra gladly accepted such disdain, for they
craved attention in all forms. Looking a bit out of the mainstream
served their attention-getting purposes quite well. Thad watched
his people for a few minutes before he submerged himself in
work.
Thad had 72 regional Blossom data
managers that reported directly to him. More accurately, those
72 managers reported to Thad's assistant. Stamp, the unique
minicomp, eagerly accepted the responsibility Thad gave him.
With his developed personality and knowledge, Stamp could summarize
reports and offer suggestions very much like a human being.
Thad began to appreciate what a resource he had in Stamp. With
the day-to-day details handled efficiently, Thad could concentrate
on other aspects of his job. Still, the office looked really
big to the new manager. Once Thad had a handle on his job, the
office would be a perfect fit. It was only a matter of time.
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Miss Challman smiled warmly as a young woman entered the reception
area. The red-haired lass looked as if she were sneaking around
an off-limits area of a museum. "Hello," said Challman, "how
may I help you?"
"Hello," the woman said hurriedly.
"I was wondering if you're open for business yet? Your sign
outside was uncovered."
"The official opening is next
week; however," Challman winked at the woman, "I'm sure we can
be of assistance to you now."
"Thank you. I'm interested in
getting nanite augmentation."
"Wonderful. You have the honor
of being our first customer." Challman pressed a button on her
unobtrusive desk panel. "A salesperson will be with you in a
moment."
Challman had barely finished
speaking when a side door opened and a particularly attractive
woman stepped into the reception area. She was one of Gerald's
sale representatives. The raven-haired beauty introduced herself.
"Greetings. My name is Monique. How may I be of service to you?"
"I'm Corie Tagerson. I'm here
to get some health upstairs." Corie waved a hand over her utterly-flat
blouse.
Monique flashed a pleasant smile."We
can certainly help you in that department, Ms Tagerson. But
first, we'll have to perform a test."
"Test?"
"Yes. A test that will determine
if you're in the two percentile of people who cannot use cosmetic
nanites due to a very active immune system." Monique guided
Corie by the arm to a small lounge area. She had the girl sit
on a plush chair. "Doctor Sonser will be with you a few minutes.
Please take this opportunity to read the literature on the table
next to you. If you have any questions, Doctor Sonser will be
happy to answer them for you." With that Monique walked away,
leaving Corie with a colorful, glossy pamphlet about nanites.
Entitled Nanites and You,
the pamphlet addressed the major concerns a woman would have
about nanite augmentation. At the top of the list were 'runaway
nanites'. Neo-Luddite propaganda would have everyone believe
that nanites were nothing more than ticking time bombs ready
to run amuck in a person's body. Malevolent programmers were
always working on new ways to subvert nanite programming, eager
to inflict obscene changes in peoples' bodies, especially females.
The Luddites touted the Bellevue Growing Crisis, a case in which
enormous breasts were inflicted on the adult female population
of a colony world due to subverted nanites. This was their example
of what could go horribly wrong with the microscopic little
buggers.
In response, the writers of the
pamphlet pointed out that like all technologies, nanites could
be made to serve both good and evil. As a result of the Bellevue
Growing Crisis, new wetware and nanite security measures were
made available. One of those measures was a 'nanite antibiotic'.
It was a short-term treatment that could destroy nanites in
a person's body without resorting to gamma rays. Another measure
was to customize nanites for each person that used them. The
nanites the Bellevue colonists used came from the same production
batch, thus making the malevolent programmer's job easier. Now,
each person could get a set of nanites that was unique. There
was an increase in cost, but the possibility of another Growing
Crisis was practically nonexistent.
"Miss Tagerson?"
Corie looked up, finding a tall
woman standing before her. Despite the large lab coat, Corie
could tell that the woman owned a huge set of norks. "Yes. You
must be Doctor Sonser."
"That I am, Miss Tagerson." Sonser
pulled a medical minicomp from a pocket in her lab coat. "This
minicomp will perform the immune response test." She held out
the device to Corie. "Please place your thumb on the indentation
at the bottom."
Without hesitating, Corie did
what Sonser instructed. "How long before we know the results?"
"Right now," said the doctor
cheerfully. She read the results on the minicomp's screen. "You're
in the clear, Miss Tagerson."
"What would've happened if I
wasn't in the clear?"
"In that case, instead of nanites,
we would have used adaptive plastiskin breasts. Unlike regular
plastiskin, the adaptive kind eventually integrates itself into
your body structure. It's made of bioplastic, and in time natural
flesh replaces the substance. But that process occurs over a
course of months. Nanites, are much, much faster."
"Good to hear. Now, what's next?"
"First off, we need an accurate
scan of your body proportions, skeletal structure, and musculature.
The nanites need precise data on the host body they're servicing.
Please follow me." Inside Sonser's examination room, Kathy had
her clothed body scanned in a 3-D medical imager. Sonser looked
pleased as she read the data. "You have a good set of bones
in your body, Miss Tagerson. Now all that remains is your decision
on how large you want your breasts to be." Both women shared
a smile. "Monique is waiting in the room next door. She'll assist
you in your decision."
Feeling a bit feisty, realizing
that her goal to have a bigger bust was nearing reality, Corie
entered the room and sat across a table from Monique. The pretty
saleswoman sensed Corie's enthusiasm. "I bet you're eager to
crunch some numbers now, Corie. Have you decided how big you
want to be?"
Corie blushed in a bit of embarrassment.
"Well, I'm not sure. Definitely anything added up here," she
pointed to her flat blouse again, "would be an improvement."
With a knowing smile, Monique
turned on a tabletop tri-dee imager. A 1/8 scale image of Corie's
body appeared and began to rotate in mid-air. "To get some idea
of perspective, let's start with some benchmark sizes." With
subtle wetware commands, Monique endowed the scale image with
perceptible breasts. "Here you see the image sporting a 34F
bust measurement. Whether it be T-shirts or blouses, people
will definitely know that you're carrying a hefty set of ladybumps."
"I see." Corie gazed at the image
intently. "You mentioned other benchmark sizes?"
"Yes. Let's take this miniature
lady's chest to a bust/height ratio of .67." The holographic
model's breasts swelled like sponges soaking up water. "At this
size, the bust measures 109 centimeters, making the resulting
bra size a 34HH - a 34I, really." Another silent command made
the immaterial breasts grow bigger. "Here you see a bust/height
ratio of .75 - the proverbial basketball size. The bust measures
122 centimeters, and the bra is a 34N."
Corie had to gawk at the miniature
holographic model. On other Commonwealth worlds, women of such
endowments were considered normal. On Terra, women that big
were not kindly thought of at all. As feisty as she was, Corie
didn't want to be that big. "That's out of my comfort zone,
I'm afraid. But out of curiosity, how would I look like with
an Angelican bust?"
Monique modified the hologram
one final time. The immaterial breasts swelled to watermelon
proportions. "That's it. As you see, the bust measurement shares
the same number as the height measurement - 163 centimeters.
The band size of the bra has increased to 36, due to additional
mass for the back muscles. If a bra is required, it would have
to be a 36ZZZ."
"Won't be needing anything that
prodigious." Corie giggled. "I'm going with a 34F bust."
"An excellent choice, Corie.
You'll soon discover that the benefits of being buxom will far
outweigh any discomfort and displeasure you may encounter."
Monique pressed a button on the table surface, and a small plaspaper
printer, located on a nearby stand, produced two sheets of hardcopy
print. Monique collected the hardcopy and presented it Corie.
"Here you go. This is the legal form that will permit Blossoming
Bodies to fulfill your request for a nanite injection. Please
read it carefully."
"Even though I'll say yes anyway?"
"That's correct."
Corie read the hardcopy thoroughly.
Then, with zest, she signed her name to the document. "Done
and done. How soon will the nanites be ready?"
Monique smiled. "If you can wait
for fifteen minutes, I sure Dr Sonser will oblige you. Otherwise,
you can pick up the hypo tomorrow."
"I'll wait." Corie grinned. "What's
fifteen minutes compared with three years?"
"You'll be pleased, Corie. Now,
have you selected a method of payment?"
Corie presented her bank card
to Monique. "Go right ahead. There's 750 dollars of my own money
on this card. Better get it before it burns a hole in my pocket."
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