There was no chance that Amazons would even pursue that route. Lunatics or Dictators, it would undermine so much about their place in society. And if they did stumble into that, they’d bury it deep and dark; deeper and darker than even MistuhGwiffin could dive.
“Oh look look look! Rumors of de-aging tech!” Catherine almost shrieked with laughter. “Yeah, Amazons discover immortality and they use it on each other to make permanent Baby Dolls instead of…y’know…LIVING FOREVER!”
Not all Amazons were brilliant scientists or master manipulators. Likewise, some Littles were either very very paranoid or very very dumb. Most claims of that magnitude- shrink rays and youth serums and body swappers- were done by Littles seeking attention or Tweeners and Amazons not clever enough to come up with a credible lie. MistuhGwiffin was a well guarded secret, but it would have been naive to think that it was impenetrable.
On a more sinister note, sometimes Catherine and I entertained the idea that a lack of credibility was the point. Flood the net with enough ridiculous stuff, and the real threats seemed less believable. Sew discord amongst the ranks so that Littles didn’t trust each other.
Right then, though, we were just perusing and looking for a way to pass the time before bed.
Catherine called over from the bed. “Nanny-Bots?”
“What about them?”
“They’re popping up everywhere. Link, link, link. Thread thread thread. I thought they’d be a fad along with all those mechanized nurseries, but they’re still catching on.”
I ground my teeth. Robo nurseries had been a thing a few years ago. Studies showed that they were harmful to a Little’s Developmental Plateau. Really, I think the Amazons’ baby crazy just outweighed their tech crazy. Nevermind the hit to their economy.
Robo nannies? Very real, sadly. Still a thing. There was nothing I could add to the conversation. “Yeah.” I said, “Sucks, doesn’t it?”
“Not something we have to deal with, right? Not in Oakshire?” I could hear the anxiety rising in Catherine’s voice.
I turned around in my chair. “Actually…” Oakshire was a little podunk town, relatively speaking. Still. Couldn’t keep “progress” from marching on.
“There’s not one at your work, is there?!” Catherine legitimately sounded panicked.
I rattled my head. “No-no-no-no…it’s still just Beouf and Zoge. I’ve just heard them talking about a used one being donated to New Beginnings.”
I watched Catherine shiver and down the last of her wine.
I got up and hopped in bed next to her, letting her lean into me. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay.”
“I mean, it’s not okay, it sucks. But we’re surviving.”
We nuzzled, rubbing our heads into each other like two cats. “Yeah,” she said. “Yeah. You’re right.” We held each other for a few minutes, laying naked in the darkness until my computer monitor went to sleep.
Catherine sat back up and I scooted over, each of us sharing half of her laptop.
We kept digging farther down various rabbit holes. “Little convicted of murdering her Mommy sentenced to experimental new treatment?” I read.
“Might be real,” Catherine said.
“The new treatment?” I scrolled down. Yikes. Shit about plastic surgery to mind dumb the Little into thinking they were really an Amazon child.
Not typical.
“Not that,” Catherine said. “Violence against an Amazon. Could be a real thing.”
I’d be lying if I said that I hadn’t had certain power fantasies involving at least giving a throat punch to Mrs Brollish or biting Miss Forrest’s finger. Part of me wishes I could have slammed Bankhead’s hands inside her laptop after her quip about “childish mindsets”. “Probably an exaggeration or an accident,” I said.
“Or a cover up made to look like an accident.”
“Amazons wouldn’t ever admit to us being able to hurt them,” I said. “That’d mess with their worldview too much. To try someone for murder would make them think that we’re adults.”