“I’m glad you don’t,” I said. “I don’t want to be bald!”
“Of course not.” Sir spread the cream on the other areas I had asked and then rinsed me off. To my surprise, the hair that was coated with the cream just melted away to nothing like bubbles melting in the sun—it was so much easier than shaving or any other kind of hair removal and it left my skin feeling silky-smooth. Ilovedit.
“This isreallynice!” I said, admiring my new, hairless legs. “How long does it last before you have to do it again?”
“Oh, it’s permanent,” Sir said casually. “The hair will never grow back on the areas where I applied the depilatory.”
“What?” I exclaimed. “But…I mean, I don’t mind that with my legs and armpits, but what if I wanted to grow it back on my, you know, my private area?”
“Oh your soft little pussy, you mean?” He raised his eyebrows at me. “I prefer to keep that area bare. And since you’re my pet, that ismychoice to make, not yours.”
This was a frustrating answer, but it was too late to do anything about it now. I had never been especially attached to the little patch of curls over my mound, anyway. But it was still startling to realize they were gone forever.
Sir took me out of the tub and dried me off and then said he had some work to do.
“But we’ll have a meal first as you must be hungry by now,” he added. “Come, let’s go to the Matter Synthesizer.”
Then he picked me up and carried me in his arms, like I was a damsel in distress, into the kitchen.
TWENTY-THREE
ELLI
Isupposed that I would just have to get used to being carried everywhere. It wasn’t so bad, really. I found myself enjoying being close to my Master, despite trying not to. Sir was so big and strong I didn’t have to worry about him hurting his back when he picked me up. And he smelledamazingas always.
I wondered if that was some kind trait of his people—having really strong body scents that were either really good or really bad. If so, I would hate to be in a crowded room with a lot of Korrigons, I thought.
Sir sat me down in front of the Matter Synthesizer and put on the thin gold wire that he called the “Control band” but before he could make anything, I tapped his arm.
“Hey, can wepleasehave something besides nutritional gel?” I asked pleadingly.
Sir frowned.
“It’s good for you, little one.”
“But it’s so bland and boring—my primitive human brain needs stimulation with different sights and scents and tastes andtextures,” I said.
He sighed, but I didn’t think he was really unhappy with me—just affectionately exasperated, if that’s a thing.
“All right—describe to me the kind of Earth food you want and I’ll try to make the Matter Synthesizer make it for you.”
“Um…how about a cheeseburger?” I asked. “It’s a patty of meat with a slice of melted cheese on it between two toasted buns.”
Sir shook his head.
“I understand about the meat, but what is ‘cheese’ and what are ‘buns’?”
So I spent the next five minutes trying to explain the various components to him.
“So you harvest a plant called ‘wheat’ and grind it into a fine white dust and then mix it with other ingredients and bake it to make a soft food called ‘bread’,” Sir said, trying to understand. “And then you keep domestic animals called ‘cows’ and squeeze a white substance called ‘milk’ out of their mammary glands. You then let these squeezings coagulate into a solid and when it heats up, it melts and gets all ‘gooey.’ Correct?”
“Geeze—cow squeezings and dust. When you explain it like that, it sounds soappetizing,” I muttered. “But basically, yes. Do you think you can make it for me?”
Sir looked doubtful.
“I cantry.”
He closed his eyes and concentrated, a furrow forming on his high brow. One of the medium sized doors on the Matter Synthesizer lit up and the mini-glitter tornado began. After a moment there was ading!and Sir opened his eyes.