The Dragon Man - Brian Stableford [36]
“As soon as my credit account comes into operation,” she announced, as though it were merely a matter of notifying them of something that needed no discussion, “I’ll be going into Blackburn to have some modifications made to my smartsuit. I don’t need anyone to accompany me, so it shouldn’t interfere with anyone else’s schedule.”
“You can’t go alone,” Mother Verena said, immediately—picking up, as Sara had hoped she might, on the lesser of her two claims. It was the one she was prepared to surrender, if need be.
“She has to be allowed out some time,” Father Aubrey obligingly chipped in.
“Yes,” said Mother Verena, “but....”
“Hold on a minute,” said Father Gustave, sending Sara’s opening stratagem crashing to defeat. “What modifications? Your smartsuit doesn’t need any modifications, Sara.”
“Actually, I’ve been thinking about that myself, Gus,” Mother Quilla said. “I’ve mentioned it to Maryelle, and Verena too. Sara’s growing up. Whether she’s allowed out on her own or not, it’s only natural that she should begin thinking more carefully about her appearance.”
“She’s at school all day,” Father Gustave said. “She has to follow the dress code.”
“Her image has to follow the dress code,” Mother Quilla pointed out, with slight exasperation at Father Gustave’s willful stupidity. “Gus, even you must take note of what other children her age are wearing at weekends.”
“We never see any other children her age in Blackburn,” Father Gustave replied.
“Well, some of us go further afield than Blackburn,” Mother Verena said. “Quilla’s right—and so is Sara. This is something we need to talk about.”
“Actually...,” Sara began—but she wasn’t allowed to get any further.
“From what I see down in ManLiv,” Father Stephen put in, “teenage self-differentiation is more a boy thing than a girl thing....”
“Teenage self-differentiation!” said Father Gustave, scornfully. “Where on Earth did you pick up an expression like that?”
“You’re a fine one to complain about jargon!” Father Stephen came back, testily. “It’s what people are....”
Father Aubrey, who was in the chair, wasn’t one to hesitate over using the claw-hammer. He brought it down with a sudden loud bang. “No childish arguments!” he said, abruptly. “Civilized discussion only, focused on the subject. Which is, if I read the direction of the discussion right, Sara cultivating a more grown-up appearance. Well, I for one think that if Sara wants to adopt a more adult image, we ought to encourage her.”
“Why?” demanded Mother Jolene. “She’ll have hundreds of years of adulthood. What’s the rush? She doesn’t have to be a fashion victim, now or ever. We ought to be helping her to resist that sort of pressure.”
“At least for now,” Father Stephen put in. “She can make up her own mind later.”
Sara was strongly tempted to remind all her parents that they shouldn’t be referring to her as “she” while she was actually present, but she knew from long experience that it would only waste more time. She sighed very audibly, but nobody noticed, so she leaned back in her chair while all eight parents continued to compete, pontificating about their various views on adult images and fashion victims. So far as she could tell, there wasn’t the slightest possibility of a consensus emerging.
While the dispute continued its descent into chaos Sara took the trouble once again to look closely at the appearances her parents’ smartsuits had been programmed to project. There was not the slightest variation in the five she’d previously inspected, and Father Lemuel’s suit was even less elaborate than Father Gustave’s, its thicker sections being even more sternly