The Journals of Talia
by Hand of Gozer




An Extract from the Journals of Talia, Ghostbuster Extraordinaire

'There is no great genius without a mixture of madness.'
- Aristotle

'My mind is completely blank!'
-Winston Zeddmore



One often has to wonder how I wind up in these messes. Take this one for example.

First allow me to introduce myself. My name is Talia - and I am a Ghostbuster. Yes, like those fellows on TV. My franchise, Ghostbusters International of Chicago, has been in operation for the last decade, from one of the first franchises set up after the Gozer incident (and don't believe that propaganda about the parent company being forced out of business - all lies to support a weak movie with no plot). Of the five members of the team, I'm the brains of the operation - the mad scientist of the group, if you will.

Now before you get the wrong idea - the idea that I'm a horn rimmed glasses, pocket protected geek - far from it. I'm a twenty two year old, blond hair, green-eyed female (yes - they do have female Ghostbusters, you know). I'm in reasonably good shape - but then you try staying out of shape while carrying an unlicensed nuclear accelerator up 20 flights of stairs while being chased by a class three full torso non-corporeal vapor.

And I'm only 1/8th of an inch tall.

Now of course mind you, this is estimation on my part. But really, when one is talking about scale below half an inch, the whole matter becomes academic. Anyway you slice it, I'm really, really, really small.

Allow me to start at the beginning. I was working early one morning in the lab. Some new equipment arrived from Ghostbusters International Headquarters in New York, several crates of highly sensitive apparatus labeled as a Unified Micro-dimensional Hyper-synthetic Psychomagnatheric Interface unit. Personally I think that Doctor Spengler comes up with the most baffling names on purpose - just so the marketing department of GBI can sell something important sounding to the franchises. Anyway, the new interface unit was designed to attach to the containment unit, to increase the storage space of the grid. In laymen terms, it acted much like a zip utility on an computer files, compressing the ectoplasmic field before storage of the unauthorized trans-dimensional entity.

Oh, the theory is quite sound, and very intelligent - provided that I had read the instructions first. No, no - I though that I could just pull the whole unit out of the box and start messing about with it. Oh, the hubris. Oh the humanity.

Anyway, to make a long story short (too late, I know) the packaging, the instructions, the interface unit and me were reduced to the present size. The packing peanuts however remained untouched by the unexpected energy field. Go figure.

Reversing the process would normally be no problem at all - if my power source for the interface weren't the relative size of Madison Square Garden. A spare proton pack and ghost trap was on the fringe of the field and was also reduced - an incompatible energy source for my needs right now, but I'd have to remember those for later.

The lab was a large open room - kind of a combo work/recreation area, with my workbenches and equipment to one side and the television, couches and whatnot to the other. A couple of older classic video games - Defender, Asteroids and the like, stood along the southern wall set apart by the windows in-between them, and a mid sized kitchen table sat in one corner. The table was covered with Chinese take out boxes left from last night, when dinner was interrupted by a call.

I patted down the pockets of my black jumpsuit, and realized abruptly that my cellular phone was sitting on the corner of the table, where I had left it from last night. The irony of the Ghostbuster's jingle line - "Who you gonna call" was not lost on me - so much for getting help. Other items found in my inventory consisted of a pack of tic-tacs (at least I wouldn't go hungry), a Swiss army knife (always useful - just ask Macgyver), a el marko permanent marker, a field flashlight, some string and a magnifying glass (just what I needed - to see small things EVEN larger than they already are!). Unfortunately nothing I possessed would immediately turn my 'good fortune' around.

I quickly glanced around, taking in my surroundings. I was on the large field of blue and white tile that covered half of the kitchen portion of the room. Not too far from me was the border to the wood slat portion of the floor that consisted of the lab sections. The low field of brown fuzz that made up the lounge was a good two or three miles away. Super-sized packing peanuts dominated all three landscapes.

Realizing that I was in the middle of a high traffic area - the center of the room, I decided to relocate. Hustling over to where the Proton Pack lay, I quickly gathered up the device. Unfortunately the Ectoplasmic Interface unit was just too large to effectively move all by myself - I could drag it, but that would only slow me down on what was already going to be a long, long walk. Better to have something to defend myself with than a heavy mainly useless paperweight. I slipped the positronic accelerator onto my back and began hiking away to the nearest wall.

The next hour was a surreal journey, made even longer by having to stop and detour around huge cracks in the floor that I would have normally never even noticed. Dust bunnies the size of VW bugs and titanic electronic scraps scattered the countryside. It didn't hit home, however, until I reached the first landmark, a Chinese takeout container that had fallen off the table and landed on its side.

I stepped up onto the lid of the carton, the paper not even moving slightly under my weight. Walking slowly forward and un-slinging my nutrona thrower from the proton pack, I gazed around in wonder. The whole container was roughly the size of a high school basketball stadium. Stopping before a grain of fried rice that was easily two or three times my size, I slowly reached out and touched it. It was a hard, rough feel beneath my fingertips, not at all what I was expecting. Pulling back my hand, I could easily see the oils from the seasoning coating the rice glistening on my fingers. I rubbed the tips of my fingers, watching the shimmer with fascination.

With a start, I realizing that I hadn't had anything to eat this morning - and with my present condition I was unlikely to be able to in the near future. Logic dictated that I should take advantage of the opportunity being handed to me - even if that opportunity was a breakfast of rice larger than I was. I pulled out my Swiss Army Knife, flicked open the blade and dug a chunk out of the grain's side. Spicy, kind of lumpy in an odd sort of way - not exactly what I was expecting at all. After a couple more handfuls, I dug one final piece out, slipping it into a pocket on my jumpsuit for later.

And if rice was plural - as in 'having some rice', then what was having a portion of just one grain? If mouse was mice, would rice be rouse? It was something to ponder later.

My remuneration was suddenly and abruptly interrupted. From the not to distant distance, there was a deep rumbling vibration, throwing me to the ground like I was being tossed from a bucking bronco. Someone else in the building was finally up and heading this way - and I concluded that I was in an all too real danger of being cleaned up and tossed out in the trash. Time to haul some ass.

I emerged from the carton of Chinese take out and looked around. My initial gaze was set far, far too low, and my eyes met a set of knees. Much higher than I was expecting was the barely awake face of Cassandra Stanford - the GBI, Chicago's resident mechanic. I was more the theory and design person of the operation, but she actually was the hands-on person that kept the Ecto-1 running, and toner in the copy machines - all that mechanic side stuff.

Last night's call was a class 6 repeating phantasm - a real tough nut that took all night to bust, resulting in a late night for all of us. Although Cassie had more stamina than the rest of the team, apparently she had just gotten up. Her blue eyes were barely open as she walked. She was currently wearing a loosely fitting navy blue robe tied at the waist, her long red hair pulled back in a ponytail. Her immense bare feet thumped along the ground as she walked.

She walked into the room and stopped short at the field of packing peanuts covering the floor. "Talia? You up?" she asked, glancing around. She crossed to my workstation, apparently in hopes of finding a note or some other indicator of my whereabouts. "Gee - thanks for leaving a mess." She mumbled, spying the packing peanuts.

"Sorry." I said to her, knowing full and well she could never hear me. "Next time, I'll try and coordinate my laboratory accidents to a more convenient time." I hopped off the carton lid and moved away. It was a complication just waiting to happen, one I didn't need at the moment. I awaited her next move.

Her next move? I hadn't even considered my next move, and how to extract myself from this unusual predicament. Some how I had to communicate with one of the team and arrange for them to get some help. Since she was here, Cassie was now the most likely candidate. The easiest way I could come up with was somehow reaching her ear and make my presence known. That or I could shoot her with a quick blast from the proton pack. That option, however, was quickly dismissed - hitting a live being at even a partially reduced nutrona stream would have bad effects on the target. Add in the unknown factor of size differential and you had a recipe for disaster. No, it was apparent that a long climb was the only option available.

I watched her putter about the kitchen, preparing a bowl of coca pebbles. Now that I was expecting it, the tremors set off by her mammoth feet stomping around the kitchen were much more manageable. Think of it as the Godzilla effect from the abominable US movie a few years ago - when the monster first shows up, each step sends cars into the sky - but after that scene, he grew much more lightfooted and the cars stayed put. But I digress.

Eventually she settled down in front of the large screen TV to consume cereal and watch morning cartoons. For some reason, unknown to the rest of the team, Cassandra had a thing for Sailor Moon - why she couldn't watch something more entertaining - something like Speed Racer, I'll never know. However, being Saturday, she was preparing to watch all the episodes she had taped over the last week. That meant that I had a launch window of a little over two hours, not counting her bathroom breaks and other interruptions to reach Cassie. From there - well, who knows. I'm making this up as I go.

The long walk was largely uneventful, and I eventually grew complacent. That's why I was unaware of the strange clicking and scurrying sounds behind me. I spun, coming face to face with a giant monster - or a moderate sized ant. Skinny legs supported a huge, segmented body, a hard shell of a head completing the beast. Giant pinchers waved . . . menacingly at me.

I dove to the left rolling, avoiding the black claws of death as they swooped over my head. As I came to my feet, I brought the proton thrower up, flicking off the safety as I went. A brilliant burst of neon orange and blue light sprang from the tip of the gun, striking the ant. Within moments a leg was neatly removed from the body, spinning the ant towards me in rage. I depressed the trigger, going to a full stream setting. The ant's head melted under the proton streams setting, knocking the body backwards from the force. My legs gave out from under me as the monster collapsed to the floor with a thud.

After some time - how long I don't quite know, I glanced at the TV. The current episode of Sailor Moon unfolded - this was her third, meaning I only had an hour left to go, baring interruptions. I set out walking. The rest of the journey was uneventful - well at least the journey to my friend. The rest of the trip up her body promised to be plenty eventful.

I approached her right foot from the front, coming to stop about 30 feet away from her little toe. Little, of course is a matter of perspective - it was big as a mansion to me. Slowly, I circled the front of her foot never taking my eyes off the wall of digits beside me. After a few moments, I approached the big toe - a much more appropriate name.

Taking a chance, I crept forward slowly, coming to a stop just a foot or two away from the - um, foot. Everything along this trek was strange enough - but this was the defining moment, to be sure. I slowly reached my hand out to finally touch my friend. Delicately laying the palm of my hand flat against her flesh, I quickly jerked it away, afraid that she'd notice me. As expected, there was no such reaction from Cassie, no indication from her that I was anywhere in the room. I reached out again, more aggressively this time. Her skin was strangely firm yet springy, giving ever so slightly under my touch.

As I ran the tips of my fingers lightly along the toeprint ridges in her skin, I was amazed on how thick and defined they were. The ridges were spaced about a half a foot apart from each other, reaching back for several inches. I flicked my index finger, hitting her. They were strangely firm, yet pliable - much like the rest of her skin. That was fortunate - that would make this portion of the climb that much easier at least.

The scientific portion of my mind kicked in, just for a moment. Moving closer to her, my nose mere inches away from the skin, I focused my eyes as close as I could. Very faintly, almost imperceptibly, I could see the individual cells of her skin. I pulled out my magnifying glass and confirmed - those were her skin cells, and damn was I small. Later, a proper controlled expedition could be made - but this was not the time for observation.

Taking a gamble, I put both hands flat against Cassie and pushed on her toe. Leaning into her with my shoulder did nothing. I started kicking her as hard as I could. I started jumping up and down, pounding on Cassie's toe while shouting at the top of my lungs. I did everything I could think up to try and get her attention. No such luck. I decided to try one last test.

I pulled out my pocketknife again, opening one of the smaller blades. Very gently, I lightly poked her skin with the blade. Not only did Cassie not even notice, the tiny blade not penetrate the epidermis. Feeling braver, I poked much harder - and that she DID notice. More accurately she didn't notice, but her reflexes did. Her toes instinctively curled up and knocked away the source of their irritation - me, before her foot lifted high into the air.

I rolled to a stop several feet away, flipping over just in time to see a wall of flesh rapidly descending on my location. I scrambled as fast as I could, the mass of foot looming ever closer. I dashed out of the way just as the foot completed it's decent. I uncurled from the ball I was in to look around. I was just within the area between the ball of her foot, the arch of her toes and the backside of said digits. The ball of her foot had come within six inches (my scale) of crushing me.

I lay on my back, looking at the flesh sky above me. "That," I proclaimed as loud as I could, "was STUPID". Sometimes the universe just waits for me to get cocky.

Enough testing, examining and hypothesizing. The only way to get back to normal - or what passes for normal around GBI headquarters, was to start climbing. Walking out from between her toes, running my hand along her toe as I went. Coming around to the front of her right foot, I pulled the knife out from where it had remained stuck in the tip of her toe. Adjusted the shoulder straps on my Proton Pack, I looked up for the very first time, seeing just how far the curved wall of flesh stretched into the sky - easily over a hundred feet, perhaps much more.

I reached out, firmly grabbing a ridge of her toeprint in my grasp, and stepped up. Tentatively testing my weight on the folds of Cassie's skin, I grew satisfied that this plan would work.

Then she moved.

Slowly, carefully I began climbing. It was much like climbing a ladder - a ladder made of pink squishy rungs that were unevenly spaced. But all this against it, the task was not that difficult and soon I neared the top of the big toe.

The flesh ladder slowly curved over and leveled out to a plateau, the area of the toe where the flesh separated from the nail as it grew, forming a small ledge for me to rest. I shucked off the proton pack and placed it to one side as I flopped onto my back. As I lay there, looking up, I hit upon another problem. Although Cassie seemed to keep her nails short, I still had a thick barrier of toenail between me and the rest of my journey. The nail stretched out into the distance four or five feet beyond what I could safely reach. I rolled over on my stomach and started idly poking Cassie's tissue as I pondered a solution.

In a moment of shameless, unforgivable emotion, an evil thought crossed my mind. I pulled out my permanent marker. Pulling off the cap, I proceeded to write, "Talia was here" as small as I could on my friend's skin. Admittedly, nobody would EVER be in a position to see the planet's smallest graffiti, and it would wear off soon enough - it was simply fun in a mindless way.

Suddenly the whole toe started to gyrate, shake, quiver and move. I was an the middle of an 8.10 earthquake in a snowglobe set on a paint shaking machine you find at every hardware store. In mid panic, I grabbed a strap on the Proton pack and roughly jammed my hands into the area where skin separates from nail and hung on for dear life. The sensation felt vaguely mushy as I clung desperately to my friend's toe - I'm certain that she never even noticed. Turning my head I looked around at what was happening. We were standing up and heading out of the room.

* * * *

Cassardra grumbled as the opening credits to the last Sailor Moon episode rolled to completion. Cartoon Network seemed to be conspiring to show the exact same episode over and over again whenever the Ghostbusters weren't busy and she had some free time. There were over 200 episodes - not all of them translated in English, of course - but Cassie seemed to have the strange power to record the same 10 or so shows over and over again.

It was enough to make her give up and watch Star Blazers.

Catching the time, Cassie set aside the half completed bowl of coco pebbles, and stood up. The rest of the team would be getting up soon, and it wouldn't do for them to see her like this (either in the half dressed state OR watching a kids show). Turning off the TV, she turned and walked out of the room, scattering packing peanuts in her wake.

She was also completely unaware that her best friend was currently clinging to a toe on that same foot that was used to scatter peanuts everywhere.

Heading out into the hall, she passed the only other awake occupant of the building - Spot the Cat, a small gray tabby. Spot had occupied the building long before GBI, Chicago had moved in. Since she graciously allowed the Ghostbusters to stay and put up with their antics, the team more than happily paid her rent - in the form of a can of cat food every day. She was satisfied with the arrangement.

Slipping into her room and shutting the door, Cassie slipped out of her robe and tossed it on the chair next to the desk. Crossing to the dresser, she started opening drawers and pulling out clothes - girlie (tee hee) things, shorts and a loose fitting red shirt that flowed about her - totally bypassing the gray jumpsuit uniform unceremoniously dumped on the foot of the bed. "Only if we get a call" she thought to herself. She grabbed a pair of socks from off the floor, and poised to put them on - but it promised to be a nice august day. She could get by with just sandals if she needed to. She threw the socks on a pile of dirty laundry by the dresser and quickly headed out the door.

As she exited her room, she bumped into Gustav Sandor Rex the III - GBI, Chicago's spin-doctor, answer man and otherwise public relations officer. He also made a mean lasagna. "You seen Talia anywhere?" Cassie asked.

"No, why?" he murmured sleepily - obviously also having just gotten up.

"She disappeared after leaving a godawful mess in the lounge . . . AGAIN!" she said, storming back to the lounge door, gesturing inside.

Gustav put a hand on her shoulder, trying to defuse Cassie's mood. "You know how she gets sometimes - stuck on a project somewhere and unable to tell us what's going on. I'm sure she'll pop up soon enough."

Hopefully that would be truer than either of them would know.

* * * *

Hanging on to my friend was easy enough to do - it was all in getting in the rhythm of her walking. I managed to get the hang of it just as we entered the field of packing peanuts - just in time for Cassie to kick peanuts everywhere and almost dislodging me. I managed to regain my grip as the foot the size of a battleship crushed the Unified Micro-dimensional Hyper-synthetic Psychomagnatheric Interface unit without any effort at all. Fortunately the sensitive device did not explode or otherwise malfunction, as Ghostbuster equipment often tends to do when destroyed. Unfortunately the destruction of the unit just cost the franchise its entire profit margin for August and probably most of September. I winced.

The shaking and rattling stopped for a moment, as Cassie stopped to pet Spot. Not every Ghostbuster franchise has a ghost, goblin, spud or slimer for a pet. Some didn't even have pets - but we settled for a mundane one. Now, several mile high Ghostbusters I could cope with, but thousand foot cats - now this was just weird. I watched as Spot's nose came in close to me and my toe, clearly sniffing something out of the ordinary (a micro-Ghostbuster, perhaps?). I could almost touch Spot's nose, certainly feel the effects around me as she breathed in - but I wisely decided to stay put.

Then, I suddenly had a bad feeling about this. I pulled myself up just in time as Cassie knelt down to pet Spot. She was leaning forward on the balls of her feet, compressing the area where I was currently hanging on. Suddenly I found myself forced into a small pocket between nail and skin. Although the nail was hard and unforgiving, the flesh was soft and yielding. Soft as a waterbed, firm as a futon - an odd sensation. Within seconds, however, it was over. We were on the move again.

New stop, Cassie's room. I used this period while she was stationary to secure myself again, just in time to see her grab a pair of socks from the floor and sit on the bed.

This, in a word, was going to suck.

She came within moments of covering me in white fabric and making my job that much more difficult before she decided to abort the whole sock process. As I was counting my blessings, we were heading out the door again.

"You seen Talia anywhere?"

"Why? You miss me?" I responded as I carefully slid along under her nail to the near right side of the toe.

"She disappeared after leaving a god awful mess in the lounge . . . AGAIN!"

"Geze - sorry for becoming distracted while I'm shrunk! I'll get right on this cleaning up!" I shouted as I reaching the point on the outside of her toe where the skin and nail meet. Fine - Gustav and Louis can make all the mess they want on poker night, but I have ONE small lab accident, and Cassie starts coming down all over me. I'm going to have a talk with her when I get back to normal.

My grumbling was cut short, as we started moving again. Fortunately the journey was brief, as Cassie headed back into the lounge. After a few moments of her puttering around, picked up one of the company's Playstation controllers and she settled in playing Giant Robo Fighter II. The sounds of video games filled the room far above me.

As she sat back in the couch, Cassandra crossed her legs - the foot I was on remaining on the ground. I looked up, high in the sky, gazing at the left leg bouncing and shaking far above me. "Thank god I'm not on that one - I'd be seasick in half an hour!"

I pulled myself up, over onto the top of her big toe nail. As I lay there, proton pack to my side, I realized that I had a few moments to myself. Curious about my surroundings (a scientist to the core, dontchyaknow), I reached out and ran my palm across the surface. The texture of her nail was surprisingly smooth beneath my touch, and yet exceedingly lumpy. Every distortion and warp of the nail's growth was quite evident in all the ridges and valleys I could feel. The material was quite porous, giving the odd feel another dimension to it all together. I looked over to the cuticle, as thick as my finger, and picked at it. It felt like a leathery paper beneath my touch.

I rapped my knuckles on the hard surface and looked up at the giantess beyond. No indication that she had even noticed.

Enough rambling - it was time to make progress. I got up and started walking along her toe to the rest of the foot and beyond. . .

Now that the ground was relatively flat (and not moving), my travels were much easier going. After a few moments, I arrive at the ledge of flesh that made up where the edge of her nail met the skin. A short distance after that I reached the first indicator that I was making progress - the knuckle of the Cassie's big toe. Sprouting up from the skin were several fine hairs, vaguely blond colored. Normally you'd have to really look to notice these hairs, but at the scale I was at, they were as big around as a moderate sized tree.

This was the first time that my size had truly sunk in to my head. Sure, encounters with giant ants, a feast made from a grain of rice and a half an hour climb up a toe several times larger than a house were all good indicators - but this, this was terribly surreal. I stretched out my arms and reached around the closest hair to me. On the other side, I could just barely touch fingertips. Very surreal.

Letting go, I backed up, getting a closer look, staring at the intricate makeup of the hair, how her mighty follicle beneath my feet composed the layout in a complex design. It was very beautiful - and awe inspiring. This was just one hair, and I was standing in a patch of several. Very intimidating.

As I was staring deeply into the hair, the skin beneath my feet started moving again. As I was thrown to the ground (uh, skin), I clung to the hair for dear life. Fortunately, the tremors ended just as soon as they begun. I looked around and saw that we were not moving; only that Cassie was flexing her toes and simply shifting a fraction of an inch. That much power and potential for catastrophe, contained in one tiny, thoughtless movement? I had better get climbing.

I had managed to walk as far as the back slope of Cassie's foot without interruption - only minor earthquakes, uh - footquakes slowed my progress. I looked up at her right leg looming over my head, the crinkles in her skin stretching off into the distance. It had taken me at least an hour to make it this far, and the 150 pounds of unlicensed nuclear accelerator on my back - well, I'll put it frankly - it's turning into a pain the ass.

I briefly considered pitching the proton pack over the side, but that's irresponsible Ghostbusting - we'd never be able to find it again when I got back to normal, and it might get stepped on in the meantime. Microscopic or not, it still would make an impressive explosion.

The wrinkles were not as easy going as the flesh ladder I had on Cassies big toe. Much more pliable, much smaller and spaced further apart. I never knew I had it so good on her toe. Wonderful.

It took me a brief period before I reached her first leg hair. The hairs on her leg were about half again as thick as her toe hair - more than thick enough to support my weight (such as it is) without bending or breaking off. Fortunately we had been busy with calls over the last few days, and she hadn't had time for extravagant hygiene like this. During crunch time, unless you were covered with ectoplasm, coated with caked on mood slime, or otherwise dripping with some otherworldly substance - you cut corners here and there. Well, except for showers - you bust the undead, not smell like them.

Oh dear. If today was slow, and Cassie had plenty of free time, she might very well catch up on these little details. If I was unlucky, I could easily be shaved away with an errant hair, or caught up in a mountain of shaving cream. This could be . . . bad.

I started climbing like a madman, working my way from hair to hair as fast as I could. It was easy going for the most part - all the way up until we started moving again. I grabbed on to the hair I was on as best I could and hung on for dear life.

Oh crap - we were heading for the bathroom.

* * * *

Cassie was sitting on the far end of the couch in the lounge, Playstation controller in her hand. At the other end of the couch was Carmen Spencer - the weapons/demolition/combat/military expert of the team. Carmen was a tall muscular red-head who had started her career as a marine, who had spent time running guns in Ethiopia, then worked as a mercenary for the gulf war (on the other side) and had more black belts in more martial arts than Jet Li, Chuck Norris, Jackie Chan, Billy Quan, and Bruce Lee all rolled into one.

You could understand Carmen's frustration as Cassie body slammed her Giant Robo character for the eighth time in a row.

"You know - I can kill you fourteen different ways with this gamepad. Seven of them would be undetectable in most autopsies." Carmen said, hefting the playstation controller in her left hand.

"Yeah, but then you'd never get that ten bucks I owe you." Cassie retorted.

"A small price to pay for a HUGE amount of satisfaction." She said, tossing the controller to the floor and folding her arms across her chest. Cassie met her stare unwaveringly

"Grumpy?"

Carmen stood up and walked over to the game shelf. "Want to play Command and Conquer for a while?"

"As if - I actually want to play something I can win against you at." Cassie leaned forward and absently scratched her left leg. A dim awareness went off in her head - 'damn, I haven't shaved in a while'. "Anyway, isn't that too much like your off time?"

"Fine be like that."

"Ok, fine - I will." Cassie uncrossed her legs and slid forward on the couch. "So did the big bad marine use up all the hot water in the shower?"

"You expect me to use hot water? Hot? Get real. Anyway - I only take 45 second showers."

"And I'm sure the world is a better place for it." Cassie stood up. "You don't know how much that thrills me. You really don't." Throwing her hair over her shoulder, she strode out of the lounge. "See you later, solder."

It only took a few seconds to reach the bathroom. Cassie headed out into the hall, and down the corridor to the fire pole. Without missing a beat, she stepped out into air and grabbed the brass shaft, sliding to the next level down. She crossed the little landing, heading directly into the bathroom. A few seconds later, Spot was unceremoniously shooed out of the room as the door was closed.

Sitting on the edge of the tub, she ran her hands up and down her legs. "Ooooh, itchy!" she said, scratching her stomach. She reached for a big ol' can of Barbasol shaving cream, squirted a goodly amount into her hand, and set to work on her right leg - totally unaware of her friend's existence mid way up her thigh . . .

* * * *

I realized a plan as soon as the dark shadow of Cassie's hand loomed over me. If successful, not only would it save me hours and hours of climbing, more importantly it would rescue me from this imminent disaster that was about to strike.

Watching as her left hand started at the top of her right leg, and started descending with amazing swiftness, I moved into position. As Cassie's hand moved closer, I jumped. Fate, the Force - whatever you chose to call it was with me. I managed to grab hold of the tip of her middle finger, right on the edge of her fingernail. I hung on desperately as the world wooshed past at hundreds and hundreds of miles an hour. The distance that it had just taken me several hours to cover took a fraction of a second down and back again.

I realized that although a temporary measure, I was just as bad off where I was now as where I had been. I looked up, and saw Cassie's wall of stomach coming right at me. Inspiration struck, and as the hand made a close pass to her navel, I leaped again. Within seconds my wild ride was over as I thudded to a stop against the firm stomach flesh.

Shaking my head, I slowly stood up. That's right - I was so small, so insignificant, that not only could I easily stand up in Cassie's belly button, Even stretching, I don't think I could have touched the top. Every stop along my friend's body just seemed to hammer home how tiny I was.

Suddenly Cassie's abdominal muscles folded, closing off the opening, blocking all light. She must be working on her legs, I thought as I reached for my lamp. Fortunately I was far enough back inside her to avoid accidentally being squished by countless megatons of stomach flesh.

I reached out with one slender finger, gently poking Cassie. Her flesh gave slightly under my touch - I wonder if she could feel me here better. I shucked off my proton pack, laying it gently to one side and tried again. I poked harder and harder each time, doing my best to tickle my friend - but with no success. Even her reflexes didn't notice me in the slightest.

By this time the light returned, and I felt motion under my feet. My unwitting host was returning to her room, it appeared. I carefully walked to the opening of her navel and looked around. Her mid-drift stretched into the distance forever, framed by the distant mountains of her breasts. This was going to be the most difficult part of the journey - nothing really to use as a handhold along the way.

I glanced at my watch - it was getting on to about two in the afternoon. Then, a thought - what if I waited for the rest of the day to pass, and for her to go to bed. The vertical climb would turn into a horizontal walk - much easier to manage!

Screw it. I was safe, I was tired -it was reasonably soft where I was at. I was - I had the beginning of a plan. I was staying put.

I curled up as far back inside Cassie as possible, where the belly button eventually closed off, even on my scale. Setting the pack down, I pulled off my jumpsuit and wadded it up underneath my head. Within seconds I was asleep.



Part Two

'True heroes are those who die for causes they cannot quite take seriously/'
- Murry Kempton

'This is going to cost you. Our fees are ridiculously high.'
- Doctor Peter Venkman



Morning - or evening in this case, came on schedule. I rolled over and stretched, yawning. Cassie's belly had provided a firm, warm surface perfect for my nap. I was the best rested I've been in months. I put my head right against her skin - quite clearly I could hear the low steady thrum of her heartbeat, only a few hundred feet away. So that was what I had to get used to during my sleep. Strangely, peculiarly comforting - perhaps it was the phenomena that young dogs experience when they are removed from their mothers. Place a ticking clock in the bed with them and they quite right down.

I reached out and patted my friend. "Thanks, Cassie."

I climbed out of her navel and started the long, long walk to her ear. . .

Exiting her belly button was easy, considering that Cassie was sleeping on her back. A brief climb and a large cream-colored horizon was spread before me. A look around the room indicated that she had fallen asleep with her reading light on - so for a while I had illumination to work with. I gazed at the field of flesh before me. I had never noticed before, but Cassandra kept herself in great shape - even for a Ghostbuster. The vast acreage of skin beneath my feet was taught and firm, with slight ripples appearing where her abdominal muscles were more defined. I jumped up and down lightly on my toes, with not even an ounce of give beneath me.

Hmmm, I wonder if she's ticklish.

As I casually strolled towards Cassie's head, I could feel the slow rise and fall of her chest as her lungs filled with air, I could feel the regular undulation of her mammoth heart beneath my feet, pumping thousands of times my current volume with each mighty pulsation. It was like walking on a giant living waterbed.

I approached her neck carefully. Standing on her shoulder, just as the slope of the breast tapered off, I looked for my avenue of approach. I could either brave crossing her face and sliding down to the ear, or I could slide down her shoulder, and approach from the bottom. Either way presented all kinds of hazards - crossing her face, I might get noticed as an wayward itch and brushed off, or I could fall if she moved, or any number of things. Climbing off her, however - well if she moved and rolled away, I could get left behind - putting me back to square one. Even worse - if she rolled over onto me - crunch. Bye-bye Ghostbuster.

I slid down to her neck. If Cassie moved and I got left behind - well, I've been lucky in the trip so far, but I wouldn't want to push it any further than I had to. The only way to increase the odds of surviving was staying with my unwitting host.

Walking along her neck, I noticed her pulse directly under my feet. It was much stronger now, the source being much closer to the surface. Combined with the occasional swallow from Cassie, standing on her neck felt more like being in one of those carnival moon jump rides than a waterbed.

I approached the underside of her jaw. I reached out, laying my hand flat against her. Her skin was warm and soft to the touch, like silk. I quickly pulled off my boots and socks - it's rude to walk on someone's face with your shoes on, my mother always told me.

The next hundred feet or so were easy going. Cassandra's soft tissue under her jaw provided plenty of opportunity for handholds and other gripping surfaces. I have to admit also, that by this point I was becoming an expert at climbing a moving mountain. I wouldn't want to do it full time, but as a sport it could be fun - at the very least challenging.

I pulled myself over the jaw line rather quickly. I rolled for few feet before I came to a stop. Pulling myself upright, I gasped. Before me, the size of a larger battleship, was a lower lip. Presumably on the other side, was another lip - this one the upper one. The human body was wonderfully symmetrical that way. It (they) was dark pinkish/redish color, slightly parted. At my scale, I could easily see the wrinkles and folds in the lips before me.

Feeling brave, I ran my fingers along the length of the nearby lower lip, feeling the tiny imperfections in between the wrinkles. It looked like a Martian landscape, with interlacing valleys and canyons covering the surface. Some as thin as my finger, some almost as big as I am - and much larger.

I looked to the side, the long way I would have to walk. Even though it would add an half hour to my journey, I had no intention of climbing and crossing those same lips. I would be so much not a meal for this gargantuan lady it's not even funny. I don't think she would even notice me as I slid into the darkness screaming. Yeah, right - not going to happen. The long way it is, then.

After what seemed forever, I reached the halfway point, just coming around the end of her lip and starting towards her nose. One close call with a near brush of her hand later (did she actually notice this tickle on her cheek?), I approached her nose.

It was a mighty cavern, several hundred times bigger than I was. I advanced from the side, holding onto her as I drew near - it wouldn't do for me to get sucked in like some errant dust particle at this point. I crept around the corner, looking directly up her nose at the darkness beyond. A steady wind was blowing in and out, very hot and vaguely moist. I was blinded as the regular blast of air finally sent my normally behaved hair everywhere.

Feeling mischievous, I dug through my pockets, coming up with a rumpled napkin. Sticking my hand out on the next breath in, I let it go. For the briefest of moments, I could see the dot of white sail into the distance before fading from view. Time to go before I accidentally followed it.

I crossed to her right eye, the next vast expanse of flesh on the list that I had to traverse. I worked my way through her eyelashes, carefully making sure not to - I suddenly stopped. "Be careful not to WHAT? There's not a damn thing I can do to you, missie!" I shouted, kicking the eye as hard as I could.

Nope - not a flicker. Didn't think so.

I brazenly walked the gentle slope of the eye, to the middle and began jumping up and down as hard as I could. I tried kicking, stomping, shouting - all with the same predictable result. Worn out, I flopped down hard.

Sitting in the middle of her eyelid, I could feel the rapid shifting of her eye below me. I put my hand flat against her eye, feeling the ripples move beneath my palm. It was - well, as much as I hate to use vernacular like this, 'freaky' - actual Physical evidence that Cassandra was dreaming. Enough of this - time to arrive at her ear.

Reaching the rapidly descending slope of the side of her face, I looked down at the side of her head. The left ear was still several hundred feet away. I selected a strand of hair, one of many draped across her face near to where I was, and pulled hard. After several seconds of tugging, I was satisfied that the hair was still firmly attached and more than suitable for my needs.

Pulling on the hair, I set into the final long climb ahead of me. I was at it for nearly half an hour. My arms were burning with effort, my bare feet constantly slipped on Cassandra's smooth skin - but I had almost reached my goal. The tips of my toes had finally brushed the edge of her ear - when disaster struck. The headquarters alarm suddenly went off.

The ringing piercing the air harshly, shattering the silence that enveloped the building. Abruptly Cassie shot up in bed, swinging her legs over the edge. As she rose and her head turned, me and the hair I was on swung out in a wide arc, eventually smacking square into her lips. The tremendous force of the blow loosened my already tenuous grip on the mammoth follicle, and I dropped into space.

I tumbled to a stop, bouncing along a hard, flat firm surface. It was hot, humid - dark. I suddenly had a bad feeling about this. I looked around to catch my bearings, trying to figure out where I wound up. Of course, thanks to my luck - well, there I was, face down on my stomach, in the very middle of Cassie's tongue. Then the world went dark.

I am so screwed.

I fumbled around for my work light, finding it on my belt. Flicking it on, I was surprised by the amount of light that it gave off - enough to see the inside of Cassie's mouth in all it's cavernous glory. Her teeth seemed to stretch well over what seemed to be three stories tall each, while the entire mouth could easily hold a football stadium with room to spare. Her throat - well, that was well over six or seven stories tall.

Saliva secreted from her tongue, as I scrambled to my feet and began to sprint. If I can just make it to the edge of her tongue and get underneath it - well, I'd have a definitely have a very slim chance of survival, at least for a few seconds more. Cassie was unknowingly fighting me every step of the way - and winning. The shaking, rolling and undulating of the tongue made forward progress difficult if not impossible.

It was a few moments of this, when suddenly I was surrounded by noise - a dull rumbling coming up from the depths of my accidental captor's throat. Within seconds the rumble turned into a deafening "uhgn", promptly followed by a swallow. The mighty muscle beneath my feet rose briefly, undulated twice before a powerful suction overcame me. Thanks to all the liquid surrounding me, I had absolutely no viscosity - I slid the length of the tongue.

Digging my heels into the fleshy surface to slow my travel did no good. Flailing wildly, I tried to grab Cassie's uvula as I sailed past. There were a couple of tactical problems - the appendage I was attempting to hang on was as big around as a redwood tree, twitching like an electric eel, and slippery as a uh, as a - something really slippery. (It's kind of tough to think in adjectives when you're being swallowed alive).

I looked down - bad idea. Cassie's throat stretched off into the distance below me. I quickly glanced around for somewhere else to cling. Of course there wasn't anything even closely resembling safety. All around me was hot, pink slippery wet flesh.

"Cassie! Hey - CASSIE! Hello? DONT EAT ME, DAMNIT!" I craned my neck around to watch the front of her mouth. "Hello? Anyone out there? Yoo hoo!" No response. "HEY!" She didn't, couldn't hear me.

I hung there in the darkness for who knows how long. I had a grip of steel, as I clung desperately to the flesh before me. I felt motion - all kinds of motion, in addition to the occasional swallow. Then light poured into the mouth, and I went nearly deaf. She was talking to Louis Bond, the company's Ghostbuster on loan from the England franchise.

"Louis!" I shouted, my fingers giving out by this point - but clearly neither of them heard me. Also, neither of them heard my pathetic scream as the next wave of suction plucked me from my perch and sent me tumbling into her darkness.

It was a short, swift ride down a long dark meaty tube - not too dissimilar to a water slide. Although most water slides I've ever been on don't try to crush you with a deceptively gentle rolling squeezing motion.

Within seconds, I landed with a plop in Cassie's stomach.

Quickly, I looked around the large organic chamber. It stretched into the distance far above my head, and tapered out to a small hole just behind me. Fortunately the stomach was largely empty - thank whatever being was jumping me through these hoops for these small favors. From out of the corners of the darkness, sensing that there was a meal to be had, even one as small as me, she began secreting hydrochloric acid.

No time for sightseeing - I only had seconds to work. I ripped off the back of the proton pack, revealing the guts of the accelerator (and voiding the warrantee in the process). If I could expand the proton stream's containment field setting, and charged the field's ionization rate with the positron collider's, and reverse the polarity of the neutron flow - perhaps, just perhaps I could create a negative caustic field. In essence, neutralize the acid before it contacted my skin, equipment or other vital components. It was either that or become nutrients in my friend's bloodstream.

I stripped the PKE meter of several circuit boards, quickly snapping them into place on the pack. I yanked out the safety interlocks and tossed the now useless components aside. I didn't even spare a glance while the wiring were quickly dissolved into pasty silicon goo and promptly swept away into Cassie's lower intestine. Holding two loose wires in place, I quickly snapped power back on.

A tingle of electricity shot through my fingers and up my arm as energy returned to the vital systems - and the prickling in my legs stopped. I breathed a sigh of relief - the immediate crisis was over. Now however, a much larger, more insurmountable problem faced me - how to get out of my friend.

I should have stayed with her toes.

* * * *

Cassandra Stanford was in the midst of a lovely dream when she was jarred back to reality with all the subtly of a drunken Frenchman living in her head. Shooting up out of bed, she glanced at the clock radio by her bed - 4:23 in the morning. With a moan, she swung her legs out from under her covers, her bare feet hitting the cold wood floor.

"Ungh. . ." she paraphrased eloquently as she shuffled to the nearby closet. She flicked through the assorted jumpsuits there, discarding several before reaching a pristine, freshly washed regulation Ghostbusters International uniform. Quickly slipping on the jumpsuit and grabbing her boots from near the door, she exited the room and crossed to the fire pole.

"Hello Cassandra - you look ravishing this morning." Quipped the all too chipper Louis. Very polite, very proper - how the hell he got a job with Ghostbusters International in the first place was anybody's guess.

"Yeah, I'm sure." She mumbled, pulling on a proton pack from the equipment locker. "What's the call?"

"The Adler Planetarium - it's a couple of class six full spectrum apparitions. Some sort of giant penguins, or so the administrator claimed."

"Penguins at the planetarium? Sounds like we're in for some fun tonight. Everyone set?" Cassie asked, as she climbed into the back of the company's Ecto-1. Instead of a large hearse like most other franchises; GBI, Chicago had an old army surplus canvas truck from WWII. Large, noisy, prone to break down - but loaded with style.

"Everyone but Miss Winterborne. She still hasn't turned up from last night." Louis responded, helping Cassie into the back of the truck.

"You know Talia - she probably had a experiment go horribly wrong and wound up blasting herself into the fourth dimension or getting shrunk to microscopic proportions again."

"I hope not, I do so hate having to rescue her."

"I'm sure she's fine wherever she's at."

* * * *

I looked up at the sagging, meaty sack of Cassandra's stomach. All around me, the folds of Cassie's pink stomach lining reached up far above my head, arching toward the pucker of its entrance.

"The big problem facing me now was where to go from here." I said to myself, daintily reaching out a hand to touch the stomach lining before me. The wall felt squishy beneath my touch, firm yet yielding - more pliable than I thought. The wall itself was dark pink, secreting a film.

There was the obvious way out - my proton pack, her stomach. Aside, however from being messy, it would likely be detrimental to my friend's health. Leaving a pin-sized hole all the way through someone's abdomen couldn't be good for them. On the other hand, I could wait and let her body take its natural course - I could slip out with the waste. However, that would be even messier - at least on a personal scale. That and I have no idea how long the jury-rigged proton pack will hold out. (That and there was this little matter of air - I have no idea how much I had access to).

Either way you slice it, I had to get out of here and fast. The proton pack would only supply so much power - I was draining the reactor core at a fantastic rate. Eventually the pack would not have enough power to operate the nuclear containment grid - the resulting boom would be bad for me, and bad for my inadvertent captor.

Boom, eventually everything ends in boom.

But that could be dealt with soon enough - I had a front row seat for the something nobody else will ever see - at least from the inside. The stomach muscles began to contract around me. I turned to watch the closer sphincter relax slightly. Suddenly, without warning - there was a churning, and I was abruptly swept through the opening - as if I was a morsel of partially digested food.

After the tumbling and rolling came to a stop, I staggered to my feet. The pitiful work light strapped to my belt was sadly inadequate to illuminate the long tunnel of sagging flesh. Upper intestine? Lower intestine? I could never remember which came first. But - wherever I was, I was getting further and further away from the way out. (I guess on the other hand I was getting also closer to the way out all the time - but I really didn't want to use that exit.)

As I was standing there, I noticed a flicker of motion in the distance. Crap a white blood cell - the body's natural defense system, designed to circulate and destroy foreign invaders, of which I qualified for. Wait a sec - what the hell were they doing in the digestive system? Am I thinking of something else? Perhaps I'm mistaking these for well-dressed stomach enzymes. Whatever it was, it was heading right for me. This was getting out of hand.

Reaching behind me, I pulled my Nutrona thrower, and powered up. As much as I hated to start blasting, I could at least try and minimize the damage - I twisted the power output to a much lower intensity. At the touch of the trigger, surrounding tube was illuminated with the flickering orange and blue neon light. As the squiggling, undulating tendril of energy touched the antibody, it shriveled and collapsed.

It was only a few seconds before two more responded to the chemical burst that the first one produced when it was attacked. And that was the flaw with the plan - the more I blasted, the more arrived. I only had seconds before Cassandra's intestine turned into a scene directly out of Aliens.

Then I hit on an idea. Sorry, Cassie - but it's you or me. Swinging the thrower away from the advancing hordes, I started blasting the flesh surrounding me. The tissue blackened and scorched as the energy beam played across the wall. It worked, the organic mass diverted from me, and attached itself to the scar. Playing it safe, I spun around, and left a 20 foot long scorch mark on the other wall.

Enough playing around. Time to get out of here. . .

****

The trap lay in the center of the room, quietly beeping to itself. A trickle of smoke emanating from the crack between the closed doors of the trap was overshadowed by the smoke hanging thick in the room. Small fires were scattered around the main lobby of the museum, set where extraneous proton streams had struck.

Gustav lay on the floor, covered in mucus from the giant spectral penguin. He rolled around on his back, trying desperately to get up. Out from under cover came the other three Ghostbusters. Over in the corner of room, behind the information booth (or what was left of it), crouched the administrator of the facility - slack jawed and in shock over the millions of dollars in damage.

Louis walked to the center of the room and collected the trap, while Carmen crossed to the stunned administrator. Reaching him, she casually pulled off the top sheet from a receipt book and thrust it into his hands. "It's been lovely doing business with you. Call us anytime."

Suddenly a moan cut through the room. Everyone turned just in time to see Cassie double over and drop to all fours in pain. After a few seconds, she slowly unfolded, not quite steady enough to rise to her feet. She slumped back on her heels.

Louis was the first to her side. "What? What's wrong?"

She managed to unclench her jaw enough to respond. "It. . . it feels like I just got kicked in the gut by -- something." She started to climb to her feet, only to double over again. "Ungh - there it is again!"

Gustav, who had managed to get to his feet , pointed a beeping PKE meter at the moaning girl. "It's probably some sort of class 7 possession." He took one arm, helping her to her feet. "We'd better take you back to the lab for study."

Carmen stopped helping Cassie up, a confused look on her face. "Your kidding right? Don't you think there be something physically wrong with her? Wouldn't a hospital be better equipped for this?"

Gustav waved a hand in dismissal. "Nonsense - this is clearly some sort of paranormal force at work!"

The other Ghostbuster simply rolled her eyes in defeat. "Sheesh - whatever."

* * * *

Later, back at headquarters . . .

Gustav swung the scanner apparatus back into place and snapped it home. "Well, there's nothing on the spectral analysis scope. The full spectrum wave form generator comes up negative, and the PKE meter came up dry."

Cassandra propped herself up on her elbows, and made for swinging her legs off the table. "Well - pain stopped, you can't find anything. I guess it's back to work."

Gustav reached out and pushed her back down. "No, give me a chance. I'm not quite done yet." He grabbed a meter off the table and adjusted the controls. After a few seconds, he pointed it at her. "Hmm, there's higher than normal radiation readings. Not bad - just unusual." He ran the device the length of her body, starting at her toes and working his way to her head. "Hmph - it might just be a leak from a proton pack. Or perhaps . . ."

Lost in thought, he adjusted the controls some more - a blip showed up on the screen. A twist to the gain knob, a slide of the power level, and the blip focused in intensity.

"Oh, my - that's a person."

"Huh?" Cassie sat up.

Gustav turned the meter in her direction. "Look! Lets see if I can refine it more. Defiantly a person, with a proton pack heat signature."

Cassandra flopped back on the table, hand against her forehead. "Great - so what the hell is Talia doing inside of me?"

The room was disrupted by the squeak of loudspeaker feedback as Louis brought a portable loudspeaker/microphone set up over - basically a tricked out Mr Microphone, Ghostbusters style. He put it right next to Cassandra's stomach. "Um, Talia? Can you hear me?"

Gustav rolled his eyes. "Oh, yeah - how are we going to hear her response back?"

Louis thought for a moment. "Ah - sign language? Smoke signals?"

"Get real. Here, give me that!" Cassandra snatched the mike away from the two. "Hello Talia - Ok, look, we've figure out where you are. Everything's going to be fine."

"Ask her if she's ok?" Louis interjected.

"Are you - would you quit being stupid!" She shoved Louis back. "Ok, Talia, just stay put. We're going to figure out how to get you out of there before too long! Stand by." She flicked the power to the mike and sat up. "So, how do we get her out of me?"

"Operate?"

"There's always the possibility of an extraction through a Dimensional rift?"

"Send someone in after her!"

Cassandra held up a hand. "It's bad enough that I've got Curly inside of me, I don't need Larry and Moe joining her. And that's final!"

"Ex-lax?"

"Oh yuck!" went most of the occupants of the room.

During this whole exchange, Carmin remained silent, leaning against the wall, arms folded across her chest, head heavy as she looked at the floor. Finally, as the stupidity level in the room began to rise significantly, she spoke. "Just have her come out the same way she went in? Have her climb out."

Cassandra looked up. "That's so simple, it's crazy! It might just work." She grabbed the mike again. "Ok, Talia - I'm going to lie down and hold still. Just climb out if you can." Gustav grabbed the tri spectrum analyzer off the table and pointed it at Cassie's mid section. "Tell her we'll be monitoring everything from out here."

"You just did. I haven't turned the mike off yet."

"Ah. Oh. Well. Ah - ok, then. Lets get underway."

****

I sat up like a shot, at the booming voices from above. Finally - contact with the outside world!

Climb out? Duh - why didn't I think of that? I held on as the world around me shifted and rolled - Cassie lying down. The curve of the stomach made reaching the opening much easier that I would have imagined.

Forcing my way through that tight ring of muscle was much harder than I figured. The tissue was inflexible and unyielding, and much, much stronger than I was. However, I was persistent - it was not. I worked my fingers through a fold, eventually getting my whole right hand inside. The ring tightened up briefly, reacting to my presence, but let go a second later.

Before it could tighten again, I forced my whole arm through, up the shoulder. From there, I could apply enough leverage to wiggle and pop though. I rolled through to the other side.

I sat up, shining my meager flashlight down the tube of flesh. I shook my head, a strange thought passing through it. As I began walking, I was astounded to realize how much a human esophagus looks just like that long spinning tunnel from the episode of the Six Million Dollar Man - the one with the cybernetic bigfoot monsters, where Steve Austin had to navigate a length of rotating tunnel that was the entrance to the Cybernetic Bigfoot Monster's lair. Of course the spinning messed up his bionics, and eventually he did have to fight one of the bigfoots in the passageway, at the climax of the episode. Except my surroundings were pink, not ice blue.

Where that came from, I'll never know.

As I walked, I eventually heard the sound the rush of air in and out of Cassandra's lungs. It sounded like a subway train fully loaded with live chickens racing past at a hundred miles an hour.

Eventually I reached the top, the moment of truth. The world shifted around me again, and I felt an increase in pressure as Cassandra sat up. Moments later, a strong light hit my eyes as Cassandra opened her mouth. Beyond a double row of teeth, lips and gums, I could see the outside world. Safety was just a few hundred feet away.

A glint of humor overcame me. I ran for a few seconds, picking up a head of speed. I jumped, landed and skidded along her tongue like a mammoth slip-n-slide. I skidded for a few seconds before my feet hit a bump on the tongue, sending me tumbling head over heels. I landed, coming to a stop, another bump directly in front of me. I realized what it was - I had tripped over a taste bud! I rolled onto my back and began laughing uncontrollably.

Walked between Cassie's two lower front teeth, climbing her lip. I waved at Carmen, who moved her finger next to the lip.

I stepped on. Safe at last.

***

Cassandra looked at the finger closely. "What is she doing?"

Carmen adjusted the ecto-visor, increasing the magnification. "It looks like she's pointing at you, and then at her own ear. I think she's trying to communicate."

"Well, no duh - wouldn't you?" She said, looking at her funny. "So, what are you waiting for?"

***

I watched, intrigued, as the two titans discussed with fascination their miniscule friend lurking on a finger before them both. I could easily hear them both, but the conversation had a very abstract and disjointed feel about it.

The communication came to an abrupt end. I quickly flipped over onto my stomach and clung to Carmen's finger for dear life. My fingernails digging into the print ridges below me. Within seconds, my stomach felt like it was about to shoot out my mouth as the finger rose into the air. Almost as quickly as it had begun it was over. I had finally reached my goal.

Walking to the edge of the fingertip, I looked at the soft skin directly below me. Tired, sore - wanting to get this done and over with - "Ah screw it." I leapt from the finger perch into the soft fleshy folds of her outer ear.

Standing up, I was dwarfed by the size of the acoustical organ that lay before me. It was slightly warmer here than on other spots on Cassie - probably because of the proximity to her head. The skin was much softer here than elsewhere on her. I could smell a faint trace of peaches in the air.

Taking a few brave steps forward, I spoke firmly into the ear. "Hey! Cassie!"

No response.

Gathering up my courage, I shouted. "HEY"

Still nothing.

Turning around to Carmin, who was still watching me, and shrugged. No way I was about to come this far, only to be stopped by a little thing like my size. Boldly, I walked into the depths of her ear. It was a tighter fit than I would have imagined. I still had no problem slipping further into the depths of Cassie's head.

A few dozen feet into the ear, I began encountering a fine field of hairs, much smaller than the ones I encountered on her toe. These were soft and gentle, like a field of tall grass. I grabbed one, running my fingers down its length. It had a vaguely plastic feeling (from the wax all about me, no doubt), and very firm - obviously designed to keep dirt and other funk out. Well, after coming this far, I was not about to be kept out by some defense system. I brushed them aside with ease and continued inward.

After the hairs began to thin out, and the buildup was left behind, Cassie's ear canal narrowed around me. Running my fingertips along the wall as I walked, I could feel ripples in the flesh. Subtle in construction, smooth in form - and very, very soft. I stopped for a second, looking at the ceiling above me. I wonder what this feels like - to have someone walking around inside your head. Knowing that it was a human being, causing nothing more than a faint tickle in your year - understanding that nobody in human history could go there - a near microscopic person inside your head.

That must be weird.

Of course, the Warner Brothers Cartoon portion of my brain hoped that I'd find a door leading into her head somewhere in here.

Eventually the narrow tunnel of flesh opened up dramatically and abruptly. Before me was Cassie's eardrum - and no door. The membrane was huge, about the surface area of a small house. Her eardrum was thin enough to be almost translucent - when I put my work light against it, I could see shapes and shadows beyond, moving ever so slightly. It was her inner ear's mechanics, moving in response to the noises all around her. Here's hoping that I could become part of that noise.

***

Cassandra closed her eyes, focusing on the tiny almost imperceptible movements within her ear. A slight prickling kicked up wherever Talia touched her, or took a step. It was almost enough to be ticklish - but not quite. Still, she wished that either Talia would be more careful, stop occasionally to scratch, or would get the heck out of the way so she could scratch herself. Still, she just lay there and took the torture.

It was hard to believe that it was a mirco-sized version of her friend causing it.

Suddenly a small voice broke the silence, coming from the right. Cassandra resisted the urge to turn in that direction. "Testing, testing - one, two, three."

"Yeah, I hear you." she said, very quietly. "I'd ask how's it going, but that seems kind of silly considering where you are at."

Inside the ear, the voice boomed from everywhere - not at a painfully loud volume, but more in a 'THX - the audience is listening . . .' sort of way. James Earl Jones with the bass turned way up. "Yup, Cassie's amp goes all the way up to eleven . . ." I almost said. Instead, I shucked the proton pack, settled into a cross-legged position and flopping onto my back.

"You'll never guess what I've done and where I've been." She stopped and raised her head. "Oh, by the way - yesterday you crushed about 25 thousand dollars worth of equipment in one shot. Good going."

"Well, if you didn't leave microscopic equipment lying about the lab, then perhaps this sort of thing wouldn't happen."

I shot up to my feet, coming within inches of her eardrum. "Well if you watched where you put those battleship sized feet of yours, this sort of thing wouldn't happen."

"You know, if you were five and a half feet taller I'd. . ."

"Yeah, yeah - I love you too." I said, patting her drum, turning away. "As much as I'd love to continue this fascinating banter, I'd like to get out of your head - and you'd probably like for me to not be inside you anymore, right? So - I need someone to call Ghostbuster Headquarters in New York. Get another Unified Micro-dimensional Hyper-synthetic Psychomagnatheric Interface unit - and while we're at it, see if Doctor Spengler can also come out. Not that I don't trust you, but this is a bit more scientific that what you're used to."

"Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence." She crossed her arms and looked half annoyed - not that the intended target could see what she was doing. "Anything else you need?"

"Yeah - an eight hour nap." I stripped off my jumpsuit, folded it neatly, and lay back down with it under my head. "Since I'm reasonably safe in here - you wouldn't mind, would you?" I didn't even wait for an answer - I was out like a light within seconds.

"Talia, I swear - if you start snoring, I'm coming in there after you . . ."

***

"Ghostbusters - you scream, we cream. How may I help you?" the young lady with the red hair and angular eyeglasses said. Her New York accent was strong enough to cut through battleship hull plating. "Uh, huh. . . I see." She murmured as she took notes.

A small dog sized translucent green spud of a ghost slowly drifted into view behind the secretary, looking curiously at the phone. Whether he was trying to make up his mind to listen to the phone or eat the phone was unclear. "EGON" she shouted, scaring the green ghost away. "Line seven - it's for you!"

***

Doctor Spengler was busily comparing notes on a clipboard. In the corner, a dashing young man with a hairdo that looked like a crazed hedgehog had died on his head was smoothly hitting on Cassandra. A moderate sized black man was manhandling a large piece of equipment up a flight of stairs to the lab, assisted by Carmen. Spot, not in the mood to put up with any funny business, was in the middle of a stare down contest with the green translucent ghost - and winning.

Otherwise known as business as usual in the Ghostbusters office.

"According to my calculations, a reversed polarity on the nutron flow should counteract the compression field. In theory this should restore miss Winterborne to her normal height and mass. That or implode the space-time continuum in the immediate area."

"How immediate?" Gustav asked.

Egon briefly tapped out some figures on his palmtop computer. "Only three or four states." He checked his notes again. "Perhaps only most of the East Coast - but not much more past that . . . probably."

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Casandra inquired, crossing to the machine.

"Why start now?" Doctor Venkman quickly added.

Without much warning, Dr Spengler gently placed the slide containing Tallia under the focal point of the non-sequential laser infindibulator, and quickly flicked the power switch.

And the whole room went white . . .

***

As the white light faded from my eyes, vision slowly returned. I quickly glanced around, confused at my surroundings. First thing I noticed right away was that I was floating, as if weightless. The sky was dark, dotted by . . . what appeared to be distant points of light? Was I in space? Then it hit me.

No, really - I was hit in the back of the head by a hard object. I reached around and plucked it from where it had become entangled in my hair. It was a small, round black object, about the size of a softball. Its surface was cool to the touch, smooth and very, very hard. Swirling around the round object was several smaller ball-like objects, in a constant, regular orbit. It only took me a moment to figure out what it was and where I am.

"Oh crap. This is a molecule."

I am going to have a long, long talk with Doctor Spengler when I get back . . . .