since then. Now she was closing in on thirteen T-years old and already almost a hundred and seventy centimeters tall. That left her over thirty centimeters shorter than her father, but it meant she towered over her mother. Big enough to handle the S&W's buffered recoil, anyway.
Honor told herself that was a good thing and tried not to think about how . . . overgrown she was beginning to feel. No one was quite sure when so much altitude had crept into the family's genes, although the majority opinion was that they could look all the way back to Great-Great-Great-Great-Whatever-Granddad Karl. There seemed to be a few holes in that theory, as far as she was concerned, though. Certainly her grandfather had been tall—almost as tall as her dad, in fact—as had his parents, but most of the previous generations had been of little more than average height, so where had Grandad Karl's genes been then? Besides, there was her mom's genetic contribution to consider, and all of the Beowulf side of the family was on the short side.
Wherever all that height had come from, and however great a thing it might seem to the male members of the family, it was a pain in the backside for an all-but thirteen-year-old girl who could confidently expect to break a hundred and eighty centimeters before she was done and had a brilliantly intelligent, exotically beautiful, sleekly graceful, petite mother. She loved her mom dearly, but why, oh why, couldn't the female Dr. Harrington have passed along some of that beauty to her daughter? Or at least offset the upsizing which had afflicted the family for so long?
She brushed the thought aside, texted an “I'm going out, Mom!” to her mother's account; pulled on her jacket; slung the S&W over her shoulder; checked her belt gun, bush knife and counter-grav; made sure the uni-link in her pocket was fully charged; hung her lunch-packed rucksack over the other shoulder; snagged her favorite fedora from the coat tree; and headed for the door.
* * *
Sharp Nose asked amiably, turning on the branch to present his belly fur to the sun.
Laughs Brightly inquired, looking down at his younger brother from the branch above him.
Sharp Nose replied dryly.
Laughs Brightly flirted his tail, but he also bleeked a laugh of agreement. Bright Water Clan's newest memory singer was the daughter of their mother's sister, and she seemed to feel it was her familial duty to restrain Laughs Brightly's sense of humor.
Or attempt to, at any rate.
he told Sharp Nose after a moment.
Sharp Nose marveled.
Laughs Brightly admitted modestly,
Sharp Nose shook his head in one of the gestures the People had learned from the two-legs with whom they shared their world. Laughs Brightly was almost a full hand of turnings his elder, and much as Sharp Nose loved him, he had never understood how his prankster brother could be so popular with the rest of the clan. Crooked Tail, who was almost certain to become one of Bright Water's elders in the next few turnings, was not noted for his sense of humor. Yet even though every member of the clan knew exactly who had purloined his treasured supply of stored golden ear, no one—including him—had attempted to take Laughs Brightly's ears over it. No doubt that was because they knew he would return every single ear of grain the moment Crooked Tail asked him to. Which, of course, made it a matter of pride for Crooked Tail to find all of Laughs Brightly's hiding places personally. Exactly how Laughs Brightly had managed to steal away the other Person's entire supply without being caught at it was just one of those mysteries Laughs Brightly excelled at creating. Still, he