Rothschilds lived on the western edge of Omaha. Apart from a scattering of trees and crab-apple bushes, their house was the only one on the block. In terms of destroyed private homes, the Tornado of 2173 had taken up where the 2170 twister had left off. Huge residential towers had been built in the wake of those storms, leaving swaths of land reverting back to nature. Upon arrival in Omaha, the Rothschilds had purchased one of those old abandoned residential blocks at a bargain price.

       Prefab in construction, the simple house they had built was just one story high and had an ample basement. Water and sanitation needs were provided by recycling equipment in that basement, taking over half of the available space. Electricity was brought in by means of a microwave reception tower. For a family of three, the house just suited their needs...for the moment.

       Recall that the Rothschilds were Angelicans, and there is no such thing as a small Angelican house. Nathan and Jorie had made a commitment to stay on Terra, and keeping to Angelican tradition, they began work on adding a second floor to their home. A bright, clear Saturday afternoon witnessed the start of their labor. With the help of friends from work, the Rothschilds made good progress. The internal support pillars and the basic frame for the roof were installed by sunset. The installation of the second-floor external walls and roof paneling was slated for the next day.

       Feeling the good sort of tired, Thaddeus Eddings sat on a picnic table bench, taking a long draft from his ice-cold diet soda. Sitting in his lap was Rex, his miniature dachshund. He scratched the affectionate little dog behind the ears. Thirst sated, Thad asked his friend, "Nathan, just how far will you and Jorie go in building this mansion?"

       Nathan, at the BBQ grill, turned over a rack of ribs, applying a thick helping of sauce. "Castle is a better term. This block is my property. I'll make a home that'll fill out the available space."

       "Hey," said Jorie as she stepped onto the patio deck, carrying a tray filled with plates and silverware, "this is my property as well, and I do a good job filling out the available space."

       "Oh, forgive." Nathan stuck out his tongue. "Honey, you should know as well as I do that Angelican males can be territorial and possessive at times. That's why I'm putting up the picket fence next week."

       Placing the tray on the picnic table, Jorie went up to Nathan and gave him a peck on the cheek. Her watermelon bust, snug and firm underneath her Blossoming Bodies T-shirt, briefly pressed up against Nathan's side. "Like all Angelican men, you push yourself too hard. We don't have to do everything at once."

       "At last someone agrees with me," said Allison Eddings as she closed the patio doors behind her. "My Thad wants to change the decorative panels on our house, plant the flower garden, and resurface the driveway next weekend."

       Nathan snorted. "Well, it's not all that much work since you'll be helping."

       Allison got behind Thad so that the back of his head rested on his wife's proud, shirt-stretching basketball bust. "Phooey. I just might go shopping and leave all the work to you. I and my bust would only get in the way."

       Jorie giggled along with her friend. "At times I feel Nathan thinks the same of my bust. I'll be glad to join you on your shopping excursion. It's for the best to let our testosterone-pumped beaus work themselves to exhaustion. They won't have a bad thing to say to us once they rest their weary heads on our chests."

       Back at the grill, Nathan turned over the ribs again and applied another coating of sauce. "Now look who's being an old-fashioned sexist. I didn't marry you for your boobs, Jorie."

       "Could've fooled me." Jorie giggled. She gave Nathan another affectionate kiss before going back into the house to fetch a fresh pitcher of iced tea.

       Lyssa Sonser, sitting across the picnic table from Thad and Allison, felt spirited enough to talk. "There's nothing I wouldn't do to have your problems, Ally. I'm going to dread Monday like the plague."

       Allison sat on the bench next to Thad. Looking confident, she reached out and held Lyssa's hand. "Don't worry yourself sick, Lyssa. You were just following procedure, and you gave that Tagerson person an out by offering a free reduction. Our lawyers will eat her lawyer as a midmorning appetizer."

       "Speaking of appetizers," Lyssa replied with a bit of humor, "when will those ribs get done? I need to get some real meat on my skinny bones."

       "I'm working on it," Nathan shot back from the grill. "I swear, if the walls were edible you would've eaten me out of house and home today."

       Lyssa laughed. "Sorry. It's my metabolism. Sylvanians are known for their love of food." Allison grunted in agreement. "You'll just have to eat more at every meal, Lyssa. I want to see some flesh on that bag of bones when your adaptation suit finally comes off."

       "I do have flesh, Ally. It's just that most of it is on my chest." Lyssa played with the collar of her blue-and-white body-conforming adaptation suit. "I'm getting use to Terra's gravity. These boobs of mine are like a pair of Sylvan sweet melons. All this extra weight is making my back and thigh muscle exercises more effective. When the suit comes off for good, I might not even notice the weight of my boobs anymore."

       "That's another thing I've been meaning to ask, Lyssa. You could've used adaptation drugs and nanites to get use to Terran-standard gravity. Is this like that cliché about doctors not following the same advice they give to their patients?"

       "Adaptation drugs and nanites are only used when someone has to get acclimated to a new planetary environment quickly. Suits are preferred, since they allow the body to change naturally." Lyssa drained the last bit of ice water from her glass. A deep breath made her volleyball breasts test the resiliency of the adaptation suit. For her effort, Lyssa felt that her chest was wrapped in old-fashioned electrical tape - the suit was that snug.

       The planet Sylvan, Lyssa's native world, had been settled four hundred years ago during the initial phase of Terra's extra-solar colonization. Forests of near-pine and oak, towering as high as 150 meters, greeted the first settlers. What enabled those skyscraping trees to grow so tall was Sylvan's lower gravity, 25% less than Terra's. Over the years, the colony's descendants had adapted to the reduced pull on their bodies. On average, the typical Sylvanian stood eighteen centimeters taller than a native Terran. This additional height came at a price. All other settled worlds in the Commonwealth had higher gravities and atmospheric pressures. Sylvanians visiting these worlds had to be careful not to break their bones or engage in prolonged physical activity. High pressure made breathing a chore, and hearts had to beat harder to keep the blood flowing in Sylvanian veins.

       Sylvanians that went for prolonged visits on higher-gravity worlds wore personalized exoskeleton suits. These suits imbued the wearer with a measure of strength, lessening the exertion required by the muscles. Lyssa wore the latest version of an exoskeleton suit, commonly known as an adaptation suit. Five millimeters in thickness, the suit covered Lyssa from neck to ankle, and used the latest in nanite engineering. Lyssa's physical effort could be amplified up to three times her normal strength. Over time, as her muscles and bones became stronger, there would be less and less call upon the suit's support. Additionally, Lyssa's suit conditioned her lungs and heart by maintaining a steady level of pressure on her body, strengthening them to the point where the suit would no longer be needed. That day wasn't far off, and Lyssa planned on having a party to celebrate her freedom from wearing the suit.

       Allison scratched her earlobe in thought. "There's just one other thing that's making me wonder, Lyssa. Has anyone reacted negatively to your presence since your arrival? Tall, buxom women tend to attract attention."

       "Oh, I've had plenty of impressed looks and some raised eyebrows directed my way, Allison, but beyond that...." Lyssa made a dismissive gesture. "Give it a few more weeks before the shock wears off. You?"

       "The same. People think that I'm a sort of waking dream. They can't come to grips with me as an actual flesh-and-blood person. When they start seeing more women with puffed-up fronts this summer, they'll have to accept the obvious."

       Jorie sauntered back outside, carrying a fresh pitcher of iced tea. "I'm back. Anything of note happened in my absence?"

       "We were talking about the lack of reaction that Lyssa and I have received in regards to our chests. How have people been treating you when you're out and about?"

       "Hmm... " Jorie refilled the glasses as she thought of her response. "Freaky, I'd say. Imagine having a five-meter-wide force field around you at all times. Even in a crowded store, people keep their distance from me. Actually, I should feel lucky that no one suffered a stroke when they got an eyeful of me."

       "Lyssa may be right." Allison took a sip of tea from her refilled glass. "Once the shock value has worn off, we can expect the Flat Chest Society to make their appearance. It should be an interesting summer."

       "Enough talk. Time to feast," said Nathan at the grill. "Grab a plate and get over here. Dinner is served." Forming a line, the adults eagerly accepted the ribs Nathan had lovingly tended on the grill. Daniel, Nathan and Jorie's son, ate what he could from his plate. He gave the leftovers to Rex, the little dog picking the ribs clean of meat. It was a good meal, and everyone needed the strength for tomorrow's work. Sunday promised to be as pleasant a day as Saturday. Provided that there were no complications, the Rothschilds hoped to install the first set of interior walls as well as the roof and external second-floor walls. Angelicans always try to get the most out of their time spent on important projects. Getting the interior walls installed meant one less thing to do the following weekend. Of course, that just meant Nathan and Jorie would find something else to do with that extra time, like putting up that picket fence around their property. Each passing day, the home of their dreams became more and more of a reality.

TO BE CONTINUED