Felix Dornheim was working in the attic, moving various storage boxes around. He was in the process of moving a particularly dusty box when Gwyneth, his wife, came through the attic door. She looked smug, which told Felix that something rather interesting had happened. "Hello, honeycakes," he said as he set the box down and brushed dust off his arms. "What's the news?"
        Gwyneth held in her hand a sheet of plaspaper. "I've just been vindicated. I told you that Blossoming Bodies store wouldn't last long." She held out the paper so that Felix could take it. He did, quickly going over the story that Gwyneth had highlighted in yellow. "This will prove to be Allison's downfall. Little mistakes like this get people fired. There's not going to be a horde of fabric-ripping giggling girls running loose in the city this summer!"
        "Not necessarily, Gwyn. An out-of-court settlement could still happen." Felix folded the plaspaper and stuffed it into his shirt pocket. "Even in the medical field there are occasional errors."
         Gwyn smiled like a victor on a battlefield. "Yes, I know, but this Blossoming Bodies business isn't needed for medical health. Pure body vanity, that's what it's all about! The public will see what this Blossom business is trying to push on the young people. A woman is not defined by her breasts, and I don't care if she can reduce or enlarge them by use of nanites. The body isn't some sort of living plastic that can be changed on a whim. Work with what nature gives you. I mean, what purpose does it serve to have breasts so big that you become a safety hazard by simply walking down the street?"
        Work with what nature gives you, thought Felix. Straight out of the Flat Chest Society rhetoric I heard back a few decades ago in college. The Flat Chest Society (FCS), a group opposed to 'frivolous' use of nanite technology, had seen better days. At its height nearly a century earlier, the FCS promoted laws and regulations that restricted nanite usage and inflated the cost of nanite treatments. However, in the intervening years, after scandals and shifts in public opinion, the FCS was but a hollow shell of its former self. Only on Terra did the organization have a fraction of its former strength. Indeed, the incident in the paper about Tagerson and Blossoming Bodies was the FCS's meat and potatoes. Felix wouldn't be surprised if a protest group formed outside of the Blossoming Bodies property when it came time for the trial.
        "Well," Gwyn continued, "I've made a decision. I'm not going to stand by while one Allison Eddings peddles her load of boob-enlarging shenanigans. Tomorrow morning there will be a picket line outside the entrance of the Blossoming Bodies property. And I'm going to be in that line."
        "You're what?!" Felix said in surprise. "You're getting involved in some minor case that'll be settled out of court anyway."
        "It's not minor," Gwyn replied firmly. "People should be made aware of what's happening. This case may become a beacon that will alert people to the danger that eighth-generation nanites represent to human civilization."
         Felix rolled his eyes. "Oh, honey, listen to yourself. You sound like someone who has drunk fermented cough syrup. Eighth-generation nanites have been around for about 35 years now. Frankly, I don't see people walking around with three arms and two heads."
        "Oh, give it time, Felix. Until recently, only colonists and military personnel have been given access to 8G nanites. But now that the Conyers Corporation and other leading nanite manufacturers have radically lowered the price of their product, anyone who can make the minimum monthly payments can make over their body like it was playdough."
        "I suppose I should keep trying to dissuade you, but if you want to make yourself look foolish in the eyes of the world then go right ahead. I won't stop you."
         Gwyn snorted. "As long as the hordes of teenage girls here in Omaha stop and think before rushing off for nanite injections this summer, then my work won't be the least bit foolish." She looked around the attic, eyeing the boxes. "As long as I'm up here..." A brown-colored box, buried under a set of plastic-wrapped towels, was soon liberated from its confinement. Upon opening the box, Gwyn smiled when she saw the object of her search. "Good. I didn't throw it away." She reached in and pulled out a rather worn-looking sunhat and a pair of designer sunglasses. Felix recognized the hat and glasses, having bought them for Gwyn sixty years ago for her birthday. He hoped after all this time Gwyn had consigned the hat and glasses to the household recycler. Now it appeared she would look even more foolish on the tri-dee if she went ahead with her plan to wear the decades-old accessories.
         Oblivious to Felix's disdain, Gwyn went back downstairs, leaving Felix with a little more sorting to be done. With a sigh, he was about to close the box lid when he saw something. Pleased with his unexpected find, Felix retrieved a pair of old-fashion binoculars from the box. The hard plastic casing of the binocs felt reassuringly familiar. He had gotten them when he had been a boy, a birthday gift from his grandfather. During lazy summer days Felix used to watch birds; at night he had gazed at the stars and moon. Removing the dust caps, he lifted the glasses to his eyes, bringing memories of his boyhood days into sharper focus.
        "I wonder if there's anything worth viewing in the neighborhood," Felix muttered absently to himself. He walked over to the attic window and opened the shades. The binocs were truly old-fashioned, for they had no electronic sensor aids, active or passive, in them. Adjusting a focus ring, Felix looked upon the row of houses along the street. "Clear and sharp as I remember it," he said heartily. "I can practically reach out and touch Brownski's house from here. Hmm... let's see the view from the side window."
         A moment later Felix moved a box away from beneath the side attic window so he could stand right up next to it. Looking out, Felix saw the tree he had planted on that side of the house decades ago. Now the tree branches blocked a good part of the view. Only the side and part of his neighbor's house and backyard could be seen with any clarity. With mild interest, Felix wondered if the Eddings had returned home from work.
         Movement in the backyard confirmed that the Eddings were indeed home. Taking advantage of the remaining hours of daylight, it appeared that the young couple was doing yardwork. Thad was tending a garden patch while Allison watered a flowerbed. Rex, the couple's pet miniature dachshund, was plodding about, sniffing the ground every other moment. At one spot the little dog commenced digging. Though he couldn't make out what Allison was yelling at the dog, Felix understood she didn't want her yard pockmarked with little holes. Water hose in hand, Allison shot a spray at Rex, drenching the unfortunate beast. Thinking it was bathtime, Rex ran toward Thad for protection. Trying to hide behind the tall man, Rex was nailed by another shot of water. However, some water did land on Thad's sneakers.
         Felix watched the ensuing events with growing voyeuristic pleasure. Thad, who had a garden hose as well, fired a well-aimed burst of water at Allison. The white shirt she had on was drenched, sticking to her marvelous basketball bust. With a startled giggle that even Felix could hear, Allison returned fire. Thad's shirt became as wet as Ally's, and it didn't end there. With the dog now at the back door, safely out of the way, the young couple continued with their water fight. Felix couldn't take his eyes off of Ally's wonderfully wet bosom. He could make out her nipples as her twisting and playful prancing brought her glorious globes into view of the binoculars. The excitement mounting in Felix led him to forget himself: he reached out to cop a phantom feel. What it got him instead was a hideous squeak ringing out harsh and true: he had pushed the attic window open on hinges that hadn't been used for decades.
         Ally and Thad turned and walked towards the low fence that separated their property from Felix's. Thinking fast, the old man placed the binoculars on the floor and got the plaspaper sheet from his shirt pocket. Crumpling the plaspaper, Felix made it look he was cleaning the window. He even managed to sound normal as he 'noticed' Ally and Thad approaching the fence. "Sorry if I startled you two," he said, acting as if he was cleaning the window. "It's been years since I have seen to this window. The hinges, understandably, were bound to be noisy."
        "Quite understandable, Mr. Dornheim," said Ally, her bust partially hidden by the fence. Poor Felix could still make out the curves of her cleavage, thanks to the still-wet shirt. "We just wanted to see what the noise was all about. Now if you'll excuse us, me and my hubby have to get a change of clothes. Yardwork can certainly do a number on clothes."
        "Later, good neighbor." To suppress his new-found volatile lust, Felix crushed the plaspaper in his hand as he watched Ally walk back towards her house. Her shorts were just as wet as her shirt. For the warm-blooded man who watched the sway of that wonderfully rounded bottom, only one thought entered his mind: did Allison wear bikini or thong-style panties?

TO BE CONTINUED...