Chung was, in other words, a covert agent identity which had been "stockpiled" by the Saints. In fact, over a hundred such identities were available on the ship, which must've taken considerable work to set up. Given the logistics involved, Chung probably had just enough "reality" to survive a light scrutiny. It was a very nice cover... and one the Imperial Bureau of Investigation would recognize as such the instant anything attracted its attention and it ran a real check.
"A tailor?Is that all you can say?" Despreaux demanded, looking into the mirror beside him.
"Well, that... and that I'm looking forward to seeing what Doc comes up with for you," he said. He smiled at her in the mirror, and, after a moment, she smiled back and shrugged.
"All he told me is that I'm going to be a blonde."
"Well, we'll make a pretty pair," Roger replied, turning and feeling his footing, carefully. Chung's body was just as muscular as his normal one and, if anything, a tad more powerful. Higher weight, mostly muscle. Broad chest, heavy pectorals, massive shoulders, flat abdominals. He looked like an underweight sumo wrestler. "Assuming I can find a good tent-maker," he added.
"It looks... good." Despreaux shrugged again. "Not you, but... good. I can get used to it. He's not as pretty as you are, but he's not exactly ugly."
"Darling, with all due respect, you're not the girl I'm worried about."
Roger smiled broadly. It felt strange these days, but Chung was a smiler.
"What?" Despreaux sounded confused.
"Patty is not going to like this."
Neither did Dogzard.
The Mardukan dog-lizard was defending the middle of Roger's stateroom, hissing and spitting at the intruder into her master's territory.
"Dogzard, it's me," Roger said, pitching his voice as close to normal as he could.
"Not to her, you're not," Julian said, watching carefully. He'd seen Dogzard rip a full-grown Mardukan to shreds in battle, and he was not at all happy about seeing Roger down on one knee with the dog-lizard in its present state. "You don't even smell the same, Boss; entirely different genetic basis on your skin."
"It's me," Roger said again, holding out his hand. "Shoo, doma fleel," he added in the language of the X'Intai. It meant something like "little dog," or "puppy." When Roger had picked up the stray in Cord's village, it had been less than a quarter of its current six hundred-kilo size, and the runt of the village.
He continued talking to the dog-lizard in low tones, half in Mardukan, half in Imperial, until he had a hand on her head and was scratching her behind the ears. Dogzard gave a low, hissing whine, then lapped at his arm.
"She is having a moment of existential uncertainty," Cord said, leaning on his spear. "You are acting as if you were her God, but you neither sound nor smell like her God."
"Well, she's going to have to get used to it," Roger replied. Patty had been, if anything, worse. But when he'd climbed onto her back, despite her hissing and spitting, and slapped her on the neck with his sword, she'd gotten the message.
"Okay, Dogzard. That's enough," he added sternly, standing up and waving at the door. "Come on. There's work to do."
The beast looked at him uncertainly, but followed him out of the room. She'd gotten used to life being strange. She didn't always like it, but the good news was that, sooner or later, whenever she followed her God, she eventually got to kill something.
"Despreaux?" Pedi Karuse said.
"Yes?" The tall, blonde sergeant walking down the passage stopped, her expression surprised. "How could you tell?"
"The way you walk," the Shin warrior-maid said, falling in beside her. "It's changed a little, but not much."
"Great," Despreaux said. "I thought all us humans looked alike to you?"
"Not friends," Pedi answered, working her back in discomfort, and eyed the sergeant thoughtfully. "You look as if you were four months pregnant, but on the wrong side. And you lost two of your litter. I'm sorry."
"They're not pregnancy blisters," Despreaux said tightly. "They're tits."
"You had them before, but they were... smaller."
"I know."
"And your hair's changed color. It's even lighter than my horns."
"I know."
"And it's longer."
"I know!"
"This is bad?" Pedi asked. "Is this ugly to humans?"
"No," Despreaux said, just a tad absently. She was busy staring hard at one of the passing civilian volunteers... who didn't notice for quite some time because he was not looking at her eyes. When he did notice, he had the decency to look either ashamed or worried.
"So what's the problem?" Pedi asked as the civilian scurried off a bit more rapidly than he'd appeared.
"Oh... damn." Despreaux's nostrils flared, and then she gave her head a brisk shake.
"Okay," she said then, pointing at her chest, "these are like baby basik to an atul. Men can not seem to get enough of them. I was... medium to small before. Probably a little too pretty, too, honestly, but I could work with that. These, however," her finger jabbed at her chest again, "are not medium to small, and the problems I've got now go way beyond 'a little too pretty.' Just getting a guy to look me in the eye is damned hard. And the hair color—! There are jokes about girls with this kind of hair. About how stupid they are. I've made them myself, God help me. I had a fit when Dobrescu showed me the body profile, but he swore this was the best personality available. The bastard. I look like... . God, it's too hard to explain."
Pedi considered this as they walked down the passage, then shrugged.
"Well, there's really only one thing that matters," she finally said.
"What?"
"What Roger thinks of it."
"Oh, good God."
Roger's eyes looked downwards—once—and then fixed resolutely on her face.
"What do you think?" Despreaux asked angrily.
She looked like she could have posed as a centerfold. Long legs were a given, too hard to change. Small hips and waist rising to... a really broad rib cage and shoulders. Slim neck, gorgeous face—if anything, even more beautiful than she had been. Bright, nearly purple eyes. Hair that was probably better than his had been. Nice ears. And—
"Christ, those are huge," was what he blurted out.
"They're already killing my back," Despreaux told him.
"It's... as good as you were before, just entirely different..." Roger said, then paused. "Christ, those are huge."
"And all this time I thought you were a leg man," Despreaux said bitingly.
"I'm sorry. I'm trying not to look." He shook his head. "They've gotta hurt. The whole package is fantastic, though."
"You don't want me to stay this way, do you?" Despreaux said desperately.
"Errrr..." Roger had grown up with an almost passionate inability to communicate with women, which more than once had landed him in very hot water. And whatever he felt at the moment, he realized this was one of those times when he should be very careful about what he said.
"No," he said finally and firmly. "No, definitely not. For one thing, the package doesn't matter. I fell in love with you for who you are, not what you look like."
"Right." Despreaux chuckled sarcastically. "But the package wasn't bad."