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Strong raised his white-blond eyebrows.
“So you’re serious about courting her, the two of you? You’re hoping to get her to agree to Join and bond with you?”
Clear nodded firmly.
“I am. My brother, Strong, doesn’t believe we have a chance with such a beautiful, mature Elite. But I refuse to give up hope.”
“Well, giving her a properly wrapped gift is a good start,” Sahran said as they turned into their work area. “Here—give me your present. I’ll wrap it at my desk while I wrap mine.”
Clear handed him the white cardboard box and Sahran stacked it on top of his own identical box and headed towards his cubical. The sounds of paper cutting and low cursing drifted through the air to Clear but in a few minutes, his friend was back. He handed Clear the box, now wrapped in shiny silver paper.
“There—now your gift is acceptably wrapped and appropriately festive,” he said, grinning widely enough to show his fangs.
“Thank you.” Clear took the box gratefully and tucked it under his arm. “I can’t wait to see Melanie wearing this.”
Sahran winked at him.
“I feel the same way, Brother. I can’t wait to see Sonja in the gift I picked for her either. Come on—we don’t want to be late for the party!”
Then the two of them headed down the hall, towards the Christmas party.
9
Melanie took a last look in the 3-D viewer before she left for the party. She was wearing a deep red, strapless dress that looked very Christmassy and hugged her curves nicely. But she wasn’t quite sure about the top. The thin red material clung a little too tightly to her full breasts, calling attention to the points of her nipples through the silky fabric.
That was because instead of a bra, she was wearing Sonja’s early Christmas gift to her—a set of float dots.
Float dots were an alien technology the Kindred had gotten access to. They were tiny little antigravity producers which stuck to the skin just under your breast and caused the breast itself to float upwards just enough to defy the pull of gravity. The result was that Melanie’s D cup breasts now looked as perky as they had in her twenties, which was nice. But since she wasn’t wearing a bra, she felt a little bit naked under her dress.
“Don’t be silly!” Sonja had exclaimed when Melanie had hesitantly pointed out that the thin fabric did nothing to hide her nipples. “Everybody on the Mother Ship is wearing float dots now! Girl, I haven’t worn a bra since I got here and believe me, it feels wonderful.”
Melanie had to admit that it did feel great not to have the usual tight straps and bands confining her breasts and digging into her shoulders. But it still felt strange to look in the 3-D viewer and be able to tell that she wasn’t wearing a bra.
What if Clear and Strong were there and they thought she was trying to be provocative on purpose? What would they think of her if she seemed to be flaunting her body?
Melanie knew it was old-fashioned to think that way, but it was the way she’d been raised and it was hard to shake the ideas she’d been brought up with now.
“Free,” she told herself, doing a spin in front of the 3-D viewer. “I need to feel free and embrace new situations and ideas.”
This was another idea she and her therapist had worked on and Melanie decided to take it to heart tonight. She would go to the Christmas party braless and feel empowered, not ashamed of her body. She would—
Just then the holo-caller sitting on the end table beside the couch gave a double ring, which meant a call coming in from Earth.
Melanie sighed, knowing who it must be. Only one person on Earth had her number—her Aunt Marge.
Sitting down on the edge of the couch and being careful not to crumple her dress, she pressed a button to pick up the call.
She supposed she was lucky to be able to get calls from Earth at all. From what she’d heard, it used to be impossible to communicate to the home planet except via Think-me—a device which projected your thoughts directly into the other person’s head and often made them think they were going crazy. Now the holo-caller was available and it was even possible to sync it up with a cell phone down on Earth.
As soon as Melanie pushed the button, a 3-D holographic image of her great aunt’s head was projected above the calling cube. Aunt Marge had short, frizzy gray hair, a face like a wrinkled apple, and thick glasses which she was always wiping on her sweater.
“Melly? Is that you?” the old lady demanded, peering at her myopically, though Melanie didn’t know who else she might think she was calling on the Mother Ship.
