"That isn't the point," cried the man. "You must conform!"
And the voices cried "Yes" loudly until the man took up a pen and signed the papers on his desk.
Cheers, applause, shouts.
Mrs. Cuberle patted Mary on the top of her head.
"There, now!" she said, happily, "Everything will be all right now. You'll see, Mary."
THE Transformation Parlor Covered the entire Level, sprawling with its departments. It was always filled and there was nothing to sign and no money to pay and people were always waiting in line.
But today the people stood aside. And there were still more, looking in through doors, TV cameras placed throughout the tape machines in every corner. It was filled, but not bustling as usual.
Mary walked past the people, Mother and the men in back of her, following. She looked at the people. The people were beautiful, perfect, without a single flaw.
All the beautiful people. All the ugly people, staring out from bodies that were not theirs. Walking on legs that had been made for them, laughing with manufactured voices, gesturing with shaped and fashioned arms.