Pom Politigus was crowded near the main entrance in six strikingly, unnervingly, stylishly heterogenous bodies. All the bodies had the same face, but there were two tall, curvaceous heavy-bosomed bodies (one ruddy, one sallow); two short, smooth, roundish midnight-blue bodies; a tawny, gaunt angular body; and a thick, well-muscled body with iridescent dark purple skin. Fift was amazed—Politgus’s proprioceptive integration must be brutal, not to mention zir self-concept. Indeed, most of Politigus was swaying slightly, zir hands poised, occasionally grabbing one of zir own shoulders for support.

“Welcome!” said Pom Politigus, speaking from one of the short blue bodies. “How kind of you, Pip! To travel out here to my little campsite.”

“‘Out’ indeed!” roared Pip. “You know this bauble of yours is becoming the heart of Fullbelly! What haven’t I heard about you in the past months, Pom Politigus? You burrow to the heart of not only fashion but design—and somatic technology, too! Aren’t the likes of Frundle and Kwonk and that body renting fellow . . . why, aren’t they all falling over themselves to woo you as their showcase? You don’t need a banker-historian but an inflagrist-poet, to burn the rest of Fullbelly as an ode to your name!”

“Oh, enough, enough, you scoundrel,” laughed Politigus.

“And yet you don’t forget your old friends,” said Pip.

“Oh come, come,” Politigus said, looking very pleased. Two bodies stumbled into an exuberant hug.

“May I introduce my child and apprentice, Fift Brulio Iraxis of name registry Yellow Peninsula Sugarbubble 5,” Pip said, turning to Fift so sharply ze barely managed to suppress a yelp of surprise. “Ze is learning the trade.”

Shria winked.

“Very good, very good,” said Politigus. “This, by the way, is Shria Qualia Fnax, of name registry, ah”—Fift could tell ze was having to do the lookup zirself, which rather spoiled the effect—“Digger Chameleon 2—”

“We know Young Expressive Fnax, as it happens,” Pip said. “Ve is another child of Foo . . .”

“Indeed, indeed,” said Politigus. “Pip, I’m dying to tell you about the work we did for the local chapter of the Cirque. Shria here was the principal designer of the erotics and sensuals. At vir age! Oh, it was so well received. You’ll have to see what you make of it, of course, but I think, speaking frankly, that it was quite a coup. There’s some talk of other chapters adopting the design! I mean, the Cirque Fantabulous, Pip! Now, I would argue that the Cirque is at the aesthetic-thematic crux of Fullbelly, if not the world! Midwives and feedgardeners and adjudicators may hold things together, but to whom do we look to stir things up?”

“To be sure, to be sure,” murmured Pip.

“—and, oh, I don’t want to presume, it’s up to you of course, but when you see the recordings, I really think we came out as—pardon my vulgarity—the Younger Sibling! Don’t you think so, Shria? Be honest.”