Belly Literary Universe (part 2)

Camilla's Clothes Part 10: Addendum

Camilla stared at her phone. Who is this guy to claim he has the solution to my problem? How can he promise that? Muzi pawed at Camilla's hand for more head scratches. She swatted the cat's advances away. Finally she texted a response. "Okay Secret Advisor. Who are you to claim to know so much and promise even more?"

The Secret Advisor's response was prompt. "I organize a lot of things around Cozca's mission. I work very closely with Miranda and many others inside it as well. They give me plenty of credit for what they do. In some ways they don't give me enough, but in others they give me too much. On the topic of credit, let me thank you for the work you've already done. I'm told it's coming along very well. Thank you, Camilla."

"You haven't looked at the work yourself?"

"Hah. Fashion is not one of my skill sets. I could hardly dress myself in the morning. No, I'm good with computers. From what Rachel tells me you're having a bit of a people problem. Well, I'm also good with people. Difficulty with finding and keeping dates? Let alone the next steps? I realize I may come across as rude, but so often people will avoid talking about their real problems out of fear of offending or being too open or whatever. So forgive my bluntness."

Camilla pressed back into her chair. Her stomach dropped and she had to force herself to swallow. "How is it you know so much about what I want? Hell, you're the one who sent the deal about the surgery, right? Is that what I'm getting? How is it that you know so much about my life?"

"I know enough to know you wouldn't care about the specifics of my methods. People put a lot of themselves online. And I can find that information and make use of it. I know that you could use a hand. And that's why I want to help."

Camilla let out an annoyed grunt. "Okay. What do you want?"

"To help, as I said."

"And even if you can, what will that cost me? You already got me going around measuring bellies and making clothes for them. What else can i do?"

The Secret Advisor responded with a smile emoji. Then another message. "I don't think of it like that. I propose altering the terms of what you've already agreed to. Not because of some malice or mafiaesque idea. You've already delivered wonderfully on your side and we will keep that bargain. What I propose is adding another level to the trade. We both have more things we need and it makes sense that we share."

Camilla feared that she might lose out on what was already offered. "What do you want?" She texted. She just wanted to know. She squished her cat close. It wasn't quite what Muzi wanted, but she purred anyway. She texted again. "I already make clothes for you. What else do you want?"

"I will help you find a partner. One that is as eager about building a family as you are. And I promise you two will like each other. And I can do it quickly - faster than any dating site you've ever used.. And in return you will have more done at your surgery. At the same time it will be non invasive and quite invasive."

All she could do was hold her breath and text her request for more information again.

"I would like you to go through a genetic engineering treatment. Your genes would be altered, and so would your children."

"What?" She said aloud. Muzi jumped at the sound and darted out of her arms. "What! What do you mean? Are you going to make my kids different people? What are you changing? I don't want to be a guinea pig! How could you dangle something like that?"

"Nothing like that, Camilla. This is a treatment that's been used plenty of times, though it's not widely known about. You've met several people who have what I would like you to have. Several of the people you had photographed in your studio have had it. Myre, for example, the ice cream shop owner."

"It's related to the fat stuff, isn't it..."

"It is."

"I don't want my kids getting fat. I want them to live long healthy lives."

"And they will. Longer and healthier than most. The set of genes in question altar a number of things. They change how a person's fat develops - it focuses it on a particular shape. One you've seen. I assure you, plenty of women have these genes their whole life and never end up as fat as you've seen people get. The rest of what it does is below the surface. Genes for heart health and ability. Your children will thrive in active lifestyles. They'll be able to climb mountains and run races with the best of their peers. Those are the major changes. There are other smaller more subtle things like boosts to their immune systems, slightly increased visual acuity in high and low light situations, an easier time building muscle mass. Health things. Your kids will still be your kids. They'll have your hair. Your eyes. Or maybe their fathers. All of that will be as natural as before. The genes are to make your kids the best they can be, not to change who they are."

"Except for the fat stuff."

"It's a legacy of the original tests going back years. It was a way to stress test the genes. Since the therapy is built on those old tests, it remains."

Camilla sunk into her chair, staring into the distance. This is all about that weird fat cult. That's what this is about. How can I doom my kids to that fate before they're even given a choice? She shook her head. But I only get that option because they're giving it to me. Is it right to make that deal? How do I tell my kids that? 'Oh honey you're going to get fat, but you wouldn't exist if it weren't that way...' Is that fair? With a deep sigh, she texted back. "And what if i say no?"

"I believe that you're perfectly capable of finding a partner on your own. If you want to stick with our previous arrangement, then that is fine."

Fuck. She thought to herself. Then she scolded herself for thinking such unladylike thoughts.

She tried to sleep. But every lump pressed into her side. Every itch made her curl up to scratch it. It seemed her bladder was always full and her pants just wouldn't sit in the right place. Exasperated she pulled out her phone. "What would I have to do?"

Even in the middle of the night, the Secret Advisor responded promptly. "I would send the word and it would be done at your implantation."

"And the changes - if my genes are changed, then I'll have these changes too?"

"To a lesser extent, yes. I am not a geneticist, but newly conceived children have more ability to fully accept changes as their bodies will grow with them. You will experience changes where new cells are grown. So your heart will improve as heart cells are replaced and so on."

"So, if I get fat... Do you want me to get fat?"

"Do you want to get fat?"

"No, not particularly."

"Then I don't want you to get fat. My only caveat is that the pool of partners I have to recommend may have certain proclivities along that line."

"Right... Fat organization."

"You understand. That's the network of contacts I have built. That will be a conversation to have with them, but I'm confident that I can find someone you'll love. And someone who will match what you want and like."

"Alright... Fine. I'll do the thing. Send me my prince charming."

"I'll send word. Thank you Camilla."