Body, Inc. by Foster Alan Dean

Author:Foster, Alan Dean [Foster, Alan Dean]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science Fiction, Fantasy
ISBN: 9780345532534
Amazon: 0345532538
Goodreads: 13531402
Publisher: Del Rey
Published: 2012-01-01T08:00:00+00:00

“I know your insides have been heavily maniped, but as a physician it’s still hard for me to see how you eat enough to stay alive.”

Seated across the small table from her in the lodge’s quarter-full dining room, Whispr smiled across the top of his boiled egg. “It’s not just the melding. When you live on the street and everyday existence is hand-to-mouth, you get used to making do with as little as possible. That applies to food as much as to subsist or anything else.” Using a shaker taken from his backpack he seasoned the egg with one of his special powdered supplements, took a delicate bite, and chewed. “It’s all about fuel. My body is slighter than most, so I need less of it than average. Don’t compare my eating habits to those of a Natural.”

“I wasn’t.” She slathered local jam onto a piece of toast. Like the rest of her substantial breakfast it stood in stark contrast to her companion’s meal. “I was comparing them to those of a finch.”

He chuckled as he continued to nibble daintily at the egg. “I’m a filch, not a finch.”

One hand clutched the toast while the other made shushing motions. She looked around nervously. None of their widely scattered fellow early risers were looking in their direction, but still.…

“Let’s not broadcast your antisocial affectations, okay? See that chunky guy two tables over? He looks like a cop on vacation.”

Whispr barely turned, took a look, and shrugged indifferently. “He’s got two kids and a wife with him. In a place like this he’ll be lucky if he has time enough to remember what he does, much less worry about anyone else’s professional preferences. Why don’t you relax, doc? If I can do it, you sure can. We’ll be swimming in a sea of suspicion and paranoia soon enough, as soon as we get near SICK’s research facility.” He took a larger bite of his egg, dumped enough salt on it to make Ingrid wince, and waved the half-demolished hen fruit in her direction. However, she noticed, he did lower his voice somewhat.

“Speaking of which, I’m wondering if maybe we shouldn’t glom another biosurge before starting our final push north.”

Her eyes widened slightly as she laid the last of the toast aside. “Another manip? Oh, no, I’m done with that, Whispr!”

He grinned challengingly. “You’re just not used to them, that’s all.”

“And I have no intention of becoming used to them. I barely recognize myself anymore as it is.”

“The biosurges have hardly touched you, doc. You’re not even close to becoming a Meld. You barely qualify as a maniped Natural. It doesn’t have to be anything elaborate. No collagen this time. Just the hair and maybe some putty work around the obicularus orbits. Narrow ’em down for a bit.” He eyed her expectantly.

“You said the last manip was a good enough change to my appearance for the near future,” she protested.

“And it is. But remember, you brought me along for my advice. So I’m giving it.

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