by D.X. Machina
"Whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge"
--Ruth 1:16
Scott Chelgren
Middlebrook Hall
West Bank, University of Minnesota
It was mid-September, in what should have been my
Senior year...again. Well, I went to the University of
Minnesota, what do you expect? Graduating in only five years is
pretty darn good. Better than most folks do, anyhow.
Of course, I never had been really interested in
graduation. I was more interested in college as a vocation.
You see, I had this charming, if naive notion that college was
somehow better than the "real world." After all, in the real
world, you never get to blow off an 8 A.M. meeting. You don't
spend most of your time studying non-practical subjects for your
own intellectual enlightenment. And you don't go out, get
drunk, and trade lewd stories while leering at women (unless, of
course, you end up in sales.)
Yes, college was a grand time, hampered only by the
fact that, eventually, I would have to leave it.
But I left it for something better.
On a bright spring day, about three months before
that mid-September day, I had been studying, and watching a
pretty young PSEO student in Coffman Union, and generally
grumbling about my life, when it all changed. I found my life
dependent on that pretty PSEO student.
And I wouldn't have it any other way.
I found fulfillment I never knew I could in her, a
peace, a tranquility, a je ne sais qua that I never suspected I
needed. And when we were separated, the absence made my heart
grow ever fonder.
I also found a way around my earlier worry. She was
going off to college now--a year early, no less. And I was
going with her. She insisted.
Well, really, I had to.
You see, it's hard to strike out on your own when
you're one inch tall.
I'm not going to go into the whole story of how we
met, misadventures we've had, and the like. That's all down on
record somewhere--I wrote a narrative for Claire, and I know
she's been busying herself with pulling all the details together
on some other great stories. Ask her, I'm sure she's got the
stuff somewhere. This is the story of my return to college,
with Sarah Kensington, the love of my life, the light of my
world.
But really, it's her story.
* * *
Sarah Kensington
West Bank, University of Minnesota
The poor guy does rattle on, doesn't he? I've seen
his narratives--yap, yap, yap! I love the boy, but come on
Scott, brevity is the soul of wit!
Anyhow, it was mid-September. I was about to leave
for my first year as a full-time student at the U of M. You've
gotta love the PSEO system--they let you come down to campus,
get a dorm room, take a full schedule...exactly like being in
college. Oh, sure, technically I'm still a student at Apple
Valley High School, but so what? For all intents and purposes,
I'm a freshman at the U--on the state's dime, no less.
Of course, while I had looked forward to this change
for over a year, I was not unaware of the effects this would
have on my relationship with Scott. While Scott tends to
overpraise everything about me, I understand where he's coming
from--I love him deeply and truly, and I plan to be with him
forever. But caring for him without my family knowing is hard
enough (although not quite as hard since Karen started running
interference--but that's another story). Caring for him without
my roommate finding out--well, I didn't even see how it was
possible.
I suppose I could've left him at home--Karen would
do anything for him, which is only right, I suppose, after she
almost...no, no, that's the past, and I'm trying to forgive.
Slowly. Very slowly.
But Karen was only fifteen at the time--and while I
love my sister, I still see how she looks at Scott sometimes.
She sees the same things in him that I do--and I fear that
maybe, he sees something in her. Probably I'm paranoid. But
I'm not stupid. Scott was coming with me.
So on the first day I could move in, I made sure to
get up to campus bright and early. I was lucky--I luckily got
a room in Middlebrook Hall, on the twelfth floor. A lot calmer
than the dorms in the Superblock, and certainly a lot more
pleasant than getting crammed into a study lounge while the
school waited for students to drop.
I wasn't totally unprepared. Scott actually gave me
some good pointers. I forget sometimes that he was a student
here--that he had a life before he met me. But he told me to
forget about even trying to use the elevators, not to move
anything big in until school actually started, and to let my
roommate take whichever bed she wanted--start off on the right
foot.
My parents, of course, had their own suggestions as
well. But I ignored them. Mostly, anyhow.
So I moved in early, and was there six hours before
my roommate even showed. By the time she got there, I had my
computer set up, my TV situated, some posters hung, and Scott
stashed safely in my underwear drawer, in a little box which I
had furnished for him.
After my parents left, I finally was able to talk to
him in private.
"So, how's it going?" I said, holding him in my hand.
"Not bad, kid," he said, half-grinning. "I must
say, these dorm rooms are bigger than I remember."
Good delivery--he'd probably been saving that line
for days. "Ha. Got time for some hot action?"
"You sure? Your roomie hasn't shown yet--you don't
want her first impression of you to be a girl sticking a
one-inch-tall guy up her--"
"Thank you, I get the picture. But--well, I must
say, little man, that I'm in the mood for it. And I don't know
that you've ever not been."
"Well, I'm a guy. 'Nuff said. Hmmm....well, how'd
you like do do this in the conventional fashion?"
I smiled. "Wow--been a long time since we did that.
August, wasn't it?"
"Yeah, well, we both like this whole gee-tee-ess
thing you've got going too much to do this often--but this is
probably the most discrete." He smiled. "And I do so enjoy
being taller than you once in a while."
"Well, shorty, don't get used to it. But...hurry,
would ya? I won't be in the mood forever."
* * *
Anonymous
Cadre Headquarters
Anaheim, California
Meanwhile, thousands of miles away, the Cadre was
anxious.
They were the ones who had kept the secret. The
ones who had found a way to ensure that the public was not
exposed to the Giantess question.
They had made some mistakes in the past few years,
yes. Attack of the 50 foot Woman should never have gotten on
HBO. Attack of the 60 foot Centerfold should never have been
made at all. And the fact that Roger Corman was still alive was
an embarrasment to them.
But there had been successes to rival the heyday of
Land of the Giants. They had convinced Tim Burton to stop his
movie on giant go-go dancers. They had eliminated all two-shots
of giant women from the new "Honey, I Shrunk the Kids" show.
They had squashed an idea about tiny aliens--clearly a ruse.
And they had cast John Goodman in the new Borrowers flick.
And still, they worried.
The source of their worries was Claire Danes.
She had the connections to get a movie made--and she
wanted to make a movie about shrinking. But even worse, she
wanted to tell the movie about a shrunken man. A _real_
shrunken man.
"How did it get to this point?" asked Inspector
Kopec, clearly vexed.
"I told you we should never have let D.X. out of our
sight," cried Dr. Cyclops.
The meeting continued, and the invective grew
stronger.
* * *
Scott Chelgren
It's not that difficult, really. I know it, sort of
like you know how to catch a ball, or touch-type. If you start
to think about it, it's hard, almost impossible to know what
you're doing. But if you just let go--there it is, on the
border of your conscousness. Now, make the shift!
I'm limited in my choices. I can only go up twelve
times over my base, which is 1/2 inch tall. And I can only
bring Sarah down to 1/12th of her base, which is five feet,
eight inches tall. I know this by observation, not by a rule
book. (I wonder--if I do this, will I get stronger at it? Just
wondering.)
Anyhow. When all is said and done, if I max out
on both ends, I end up an even six inches tall, and she ends up
five and two-thirds. A neat trick that we don't use much,
because, well, we both like our relationship the way it is, and
being at a normal height ratio skews the relationship.
Or something like that. But variety is the spice of
life, so we tried it.
"Well," I said, when I had completed my change.
"Where too, miss?"
She smiled up at me, a beauty at any scale, and
said, "Well, big man, I--"
Suddenly, we heard the sound of the key in the lock.
"Damn! It's Kelly! Quick--into the closet!"
We reached the closet just as the door opened, and
Sarah's roommate walked in. "OKAY, MOM, COME ON," she said, as
she walked into the room, sending tremors with every step.
She was tall, I think, though it's kind of difficult
for me to judge, and not very curvy, with curly red hair. She
was wearing a pleated skirt and a t-shirt, and I would have to
have been blind not to notice that she was very attractive.
I could feel Sarah's eyes on me. So I turned and
kissed her. "Not the way you probably planned this, eh, love?"
She kicked me in the shin--lightly--and said, simply, "No.
But...while we're here--you don't think she'll look all the way
back by my sandals there, do you?"
Making love on the deck of an adidas sandal has a
certain allure. And after a while, I didn't even hear the
racket Kelly was making.
* * *
Anonymous
The argument was heating up.
"If this gets out--why, if people start actually
thinking about giant women--or shrunken men--as a possibility--"
stated Michael Eisner, angrily. He had taken enough heat over
that one scene in "Honey, I Blew Up the Kid" to last him eight
lifetimes, and he was by God not going to let anyone else off
the hook this time.
Steve Spielberg studied his notes, quietly. He
seemed lost in thought, trying to figure a way out of this
mess--but no ideas sprung to mind. Don Bluth's seat was
conspicuously empty, a reminder of the way he'd walked out in a
huff weeks before--over an argument much like this.
"Gentlemen, gentlemen, please. Let's not panic,"
said the Chairman calmly. "We've been working for fifty years
to keep a lid on the whole GTS thing. On some fronts, we're
fighting an uphill battle--we've already lost the battle on the
internet, despite our takeout of alt.sex.fetish.giants, and our
continued work with GeoCities and Paradise-Net. They're too
fast for us.
"But thankfully, mainstream America is not yet
hooked to the net. For the vast majority of people who would be
interested in this...subject matter, Television and the Movies
are the only media they're aware of. We can control this."
"Mr. Chairman, may I make a statement?" I asked.
"Very well. Anonymous has the floor."
"With all due respect, sir, I think the time may be
right for us to end our opposition to GTS."
I was met by a hail of boos, but I persisted. "Just
because the Athena League has been looking for ways to utilize
GTS to their advantage doesn't mean they'll take over the world.
Sure, they may find a way to alter the male/female paradigm
but--"
"Mr. Chairman, point of parliamentary inquiry!" It
was John Jackson. "This is what we're fighting against. We
must preserve the old order! If women are stronger than men,
bigger than men, more powerful than men, then we are doomed! I
know Anonymous comes to us on the Chair's recommendation, but
can we really let him call for an end to our fifty-year mandate?"
* * *
Sarah Kensington
It was a good way to christen my room--and my
sandals. We went back out, and saw Kelly and her mom debating
where to put a chair, and the door standing open. "Well, here
goes nothing," I said, carrying Scott (already reduced to half
an inch tall) out into the corridor.
It was controlled chaos, and I was clearly not safe
being in cross traffic at my height. So I charged across the
hall into the bathroom, and Scott quickly worked his magic.
I looked into my right hand, and saw my little lover
there, the size of a rice grain. Amazing, I thought, that this
was even possible.
I blew a kiss carefully at Scott, and placed him
down my shirt, on my left breast. He was safe there--he knew
his way around my breast. I ran my fingers through my hair, and
walked across the hall to meet my roommate.
"Kelly?" I asked, poking my head in the room. I put
on my best stupid look--similar to the one on my school I.D.
"You must be Sarah! Nice to meet you! I see you're
already moved in." She seemed friendly enough. That was a good
sign.
"Yeah, got here this morning. But if you'd rather
have that side, I can--"
"No, no, I wanted this side anyhow. Um--I'd like
you to meet my mom, Karen Johnson."
The conversation continued in that vein for a
while--I won't bore you with details. It was two girls
yammering on about where the T.V. should go, what classes they
were taking, and so on. I even found the opportunity to quietly
sneak Scott back into my underwear drawer.
I did find out some interesting stuff about Kelly,
though. Seems she went to a Catholic boarding school, so she'd
been through this whole dorm thing before. We chatted about
this and that, and then headed down to supper together.
I left Scott in the room. I hate doing that, but,
well, I would have to, until I was sure Kelly was a good person.
Once I was sure--well, then I would introduce her. I had
to--there was no way I could keep Scott secret forever.
I just hoped Scott would understand that.
* * *
Anonymous
"You are out of order, Mr. Jackson," said the
Chairman, pointedly. "Parliamentary Inquiry is not a license to
debate. Don't forget that it was Anonymous who covered up what
really happened with your great-great-grandpappy and the
beanstalk. He's earned his seat at the table. Anonymous, like
all of us, may state his feelings on this matter." He turned to
me, and said quietly, "I would warn the Gentleman, however, that
D.X. Machina was making speeches like this before he left us--I
hope you have no similar motive. Proceed."
"I yield my time." Damn fool--ought to keep my
mouth shut. Szalinski spoke next, and his vitriol shocked me.
"Mr. Chair, you spoke of D.X. Machina. I submit
that our primary concern is not Ms. Danes--it is Mr. Machina!
He is a rogue, neither on our side nor the side of the League.
He dispenses GTS like it was his personal gift. He writes
books, he sells crystals, he gives knowledge to scientists that
they are not supposed to have--he is a menace, and he must be
stopped!"
The Cadre seethed. It would be a long meeting, and
I feared for my friend.
I feared for the people he had helped.
* * *
Scott Chelgren
I slept that night next to Sarah, on her pillow, as
always. She had to be quiet, I knew, lest she wake up Kelly.
But I was able to whisper into her ear, "I love you always, my
dear." I kissed her cheek, and settled in.
I felt uneasy, but I pushed the feeling aside. I
didn't know it yet--wouldn't for a while--but things were soon
going to get ugly.
by D.X. Machina
"It is not good that the man should be alone."
--Genesis 2:18
KellyAnn Johnson
Middlebrook Hall
West Bank, University of Minnesota
In the first few days we were there, Sarah and I got
to be good friends. She's really cool. In a way, she reminds
me of my high school roommate Lori, who's going to SCSU. (I
hope Lor comes down to visit soon--Sarah will love her!)
We made a pretty good team, actually. My mom
shipped me off to Catholic boarding school in tenth grade, which
is just as cool as it sounds. That is, it isn't. But it did
get me used to living in a dorm, so I was pretty well able to
handle things with rooming arrangements--and Sarah didn't argue.
Meanwhile, Sarah's been going here part time through PSEO for
the past year, so she kind of knows the academic layout. We
helped each other out with email, buying books, working the
cafeteria for all it's worth, and pretty much everything else.
It was a fun time, and the only thing that was at
all weird was that, from time to time, Sarah would seem to
disappear off the face of the Earth, or she'd have to run back
up to the room during supper, stuff like that. I wondered what
the girl was up to, but not too much. Maybe she missed her mom.
Maybe she was using an Electolux special. Either way, she
needed space, I gave space. I just hoped she'd do the same for
me.
* * *
Scott Chelgren
Middlebrook Hall
West Bank, University of Minnesota
Welcome Week was Hell.
I got to see Sarah maybe three times a day. The
rest of the time she was running off with Kelly, going to eat,
or watch movies or something.
I, meanwhile, was stuck in the box.
What's worse, Sarah started talking about showing me
to Kelly. She said Kelly was nice, and cool, and...well, she
seemed nice. But I had too many memories of broken bones and
crushing weights. For ever Sarah or Claire, there's a Victoria.
And I was not going to bet my life that Kelly was in the former
category.
But really, Victoria had been the only mean one....
No, I couldn't chance it. No matter what Sarah
said.
Could I?
At any rate, the absence didn't do wonders for our
relationship, I can tell you that. By the fourth day of Welcome
Week, I was fuming.
And the worst part was, I knew I was wrong.
* * *
Anonymous
Beverly Hills, California
I enjoy little more than sipping Chardonnay on the
veranda, reading a well-worn copy of "Gulliver's Travels," and
wondering about what might have been.
My family has always been connected with the Cadre,
ever since my great-great-grandfather William accidentally
accompanied Dr. Gulliver on his famous trip to Brobdignang--and
had decidedly different adventures. He returned to England with
the secret of GTS, a secret that would eventually be discovered
by the Athena League. You see--
--or more likely, you don't. It's a long story, one
for a different time, perhaps. At any rate, my seat on the
Cadre is hereditary, and I would have to screw up in a big way
to lose it.
Which I had almost done.
Damn fool! Let them see your liberal leanings at
your eighth meeting--speak out against the tide now, and
alienate yourself from everyone else--rather than build a slow
consensus to eliminate the Cadre.
For it had to be eliminated. Any damn fool could
see that. Maybe once we were fighting for man's rightful place
in the balance of the sexes (a dubious goal, at that). Maybe
once there were clearly defined male/female roles. But now?
Dear Lord, there are women's professional basketball teams that
outdraw men's professional basketball teams. Women are in the
workplace, Congress, even the military. Even if the Athena
League managed to release GTS, it would do little but put an
exclamation point on the evolution of relationships. Maybe if
we bargained now, it wouldn't have to come to that.
But bargaining was impossible with the old guard in
charge. Maybe Spielberg was on my side. He seemed reasonable.
Bluth I know was fed up, but he had left in the middle of the
last meeting, and nobody had heard from him since. And D.X. was
with me, I knew it....
I turned back to my computer. D.X., what are you
doing? Posting stories, on the internet, no less! I need you
on the Cadre--there are others who share our position, friend.
Stop this insanity, I implore you!
But it's no use. I sighed. I hoped he would come
back soon.
* * *
Scott Chelgren
Middlebrook Hall
West Bank, University of Minnesota
I sat in the box, and thought.
And thought and thought.
It was what I did for that first week. Almost all I
did. Oh, sure, I saw Sarah, and the time was sweet. But then I
went back in the box and thought some more.
And about the fifth day, I had an epiphany.
I would not know that I was wrong for too long after.
* * *
Sarah Kensington
Coffman Union
East Bank, University of Minnesota.
"Well, Scott, here it is--the place we first met."
I was trying to drag Scott out of the doldrums. My
fault--I'd been ignoring him, gallivanting across the East and
West Banks, while he lingered in my underwear drawer. So I had
taken him out to see the campus, and hopefully, to cheer him up.
"Where I first met you, you should say." His voice
was distant, and not just because of his height. It was a real
strain, these first few days. He was used to having me all to
himself--and now, well....
"I knew you were there. I felt a lump in the seat.
It went away, though." I tried to smile, but I had to admit the
strain was getting to me, too.
I slumped into the naugahyde, swayback chair, and
placed him on my shoulder. "I'm sorry this hasn't been a good
week for you, Scott, but I promise, I'll make it up to you."
"How?" he asked. "And why? This hasn't been a good
week because you've got a life. And, well, I'm....
"I'm holding you back, Sarah. I didn't think I was,
or at least I convinced myself I wasn't. But I am. I'm holding
you back. You'd probably be better off without me."
I know my jaw dropped. I knew things were bad,
but--was Scott dumping me?
I mustered my courage. "Scott--I would most
certainly not be better off without you, I--"
"--love me, I know, I love you, too. I love you
too much. I wish I loved you less, I could ignore what I was
doing to you. But you're having to worry about me when you
should be finding activities. Having to run up and feed me when
you should be enjoying dinner. Having to always worry if I'm
all right, rather than worrying about meeting a nice guy who can
be something other than a dependant."
"Scott, you don't understand, I love you, the way
you are. Always."
I could hear him sigh--barely audible, but clear to
me above anything. "Sarah, I wish I could be out of your
life--let you be able to live the way you should. I...I wish
that you didn't have to care for me, or worry where I was. I
had a chance to make that choice--and I made the wrong one. I'm
sorry."
And we both sat, crying. I didn't know what to say.
* * *
Scott Chelgren
Middlebrook Hall
West Bank, University of Minnesota
We traveled back to Middlebrook in silence. It was
a lot to burden the girl with, but I had to say it. Deep down,
I wanted her to take me back to Apple Valley. Or maybe just let
me go in Coffman Union. I wanted to stay with her, more than
anything--but that meant denying her the opportunity to be just
a normal, everyday college freshman.
And I had to give her that opportunity, somehow.
No doubt, Welcome Week had been Hell. But maybe
some good would come of it.
When Sarah returned to her room, Kelly was already
there. "HEY," she said, "JORDAN GOT COMPS TO BEN FOLDS FIVE AT
FIRST AVE--WANT TO GO?"
Ben Folds Five! Wow, that took me back to my
previous life, back to the last date I'd been on before...well,
before.
"UM--YEAH. JUST HAVE TO FRESHEN UP FIRST." That
was code for "I'm going to stash you in the drawer" but I'd have
none of it. I intended to go to that concert.
* * *
Sarah Kensington
Middlebrook Hall
West Bank, University of Minnesota
Scott was not going into the drawer--it seemed he
wanted to go to the concert.
Well, at least it was something. Almost, I thought,
a date. And hopefully it would shake him out of this mood of
his where he was convinced that I needed to get rid of him
somehow. Get rid of Scott? May as well chop my right arm
off--I could get by without him, but I remembered the way I felt
when I lost him in L.A.
So if Scott wanted to come, he could come. I tucked
him into my décolletage (his preferred method of travel--and I
wanted him to have that much more to think about) and walked
back into the room.
"It's Jordan, Kyle, you, and me," said Kelly,
smiling. Well, I thought Kyle was showing interest in me--guess
it's true. Too bad for him, I suppose. "Great!" I smiled. "We
going by bus?"
"Naw, I've got a car," said Kyle, brightly. He was
kinda handsome, in an odd sort of way.
"Well then, let's go," I said.
* * *
Anonymous
Beverly Hills, California
The call was completely unexpected.
"Sir," said Kozlowski, "Telephone."
Kozlowski was about as British as couscous, and as
epicure as a plowman, but he was a fine servant, with a fetish
for cleanliness and a tremendous work ethic. His accent was
faux-British, but only for humor's sake.
"Thank you, Kozlowski. 'Speaking,'" I said into the
phone.
"Is this Mr. J--"
"Please, no names. How may I assist you, madam?"
"Sir, this is Claire Danes."
I paused, flummoxed. How? "Miss Danes, how may I
be of service?"
The young lady continued. "Mr....Mister, I
understand that you are involved in a certain fraternal
organization that has great power in this town."
"That may be true, Miss Danes. I belong to many
organiz ations."
"This one calls itself the Cadre, and it is a most
exclusive bunch. Don Bluth, Steven Speilberg, Michael
Eisner...and a few others whose identities are not so readily
available."
My heart raced. "My dear girl, you must be
mistaken. There is no Cadre, at least none I'm aware of."
"Yes, he said you'd say that," she said, bluntly.
"Who said?" As if I didn't know.
"A Mr. Machina. He stopped by, read over my script,
got paged and left. But he gave me your name and number. He
said you could help smooth the waters for my project."
There was a grand pause. After an eternity, I
answered.
"Miss Danes...when would you like to meet?"
* * *
Scott Chelgren
First Avenue Night Club
First Ave and 7th St, Minneapolis
I could almost feel him, staring at Sarah, making
small talk, all the while wondering what he'd have to do to get
with this girl.
I couldn't fault him. After all, I'd spent much of
the past few months getting with this girl. She was someone
that radiated beauty of spirit and stature. He had good taste.
But he was a reminder. He was six feet tall. He
was a guy you could take home to mom, or go to spring formal
with.
Or walk down the aisle with.
I was none of those. I was nothing. Nobody. And
not even Sarah's reassurances could convince me otherwise.
I began to crawl out of my carrying case--I was
going to go on my last date with Sarah.
I had no idea it'd end the way it did.
* * *
Sarah Kensington
First Avenue Night Club
First Ave & 7th St, Minneapolis
Kyle was pretty cool, but not so cool as Scott. I
liked him, but there was still something about holding a man in
the palm of your hand. Who cared if the march down the aisle
would be a bit unusual? I was already trying to figure out how
to break the news to Mom when the time came.
We entered First Ave, and I was surprised that we
were being frisked. Nevertheless, I raised my hands and allowed
the man to pat me down (he was quick about it--very
professional). We then walked into the legendary club.
First Ave is gritty, and dirty--and amazing. It's a
great place to see a show. The place was packed with about
twelve hundred concertgoers, there to see Ben Folds and the
other two guys who made up Ben Folds Five. The five of us waded
in to the crowd.
Or so I thought.
* * *
Scott Chelgren
I hadn't been positioned correctly when Sarah lifted
her arms for the search. I dropped like a stone into her
shorts, and then only stopped because I was wedged into the
elastic. With every step she took, I slipped further and
further down. She couldn't feel me, apparently, and my arms
were pinned--I was unable to grab hold of anything.
I slipped, slowly but inevitably, until we hit the
floor. Then, I finally reached the bottom.
I fell.
I landed on the hard floor, dazed but unhurt.
There were feet everywhere. I was in big trouble.
But I was buoyed by one thought.
Sarah had lost me.
It would hurt, but in the long run, she'd be better
off.
Or so I thought.
by D.X. Machina
"Be not ignorant of anything in a great matter or a small"
--Ecclesiasticus 5:15
Claire Danes
Burbank, California
The man arrived precisely on time, as David had said
he would. He was nondescript--middle aged, full head of
silver-black hair, glasses, slight paunch--which was fitting, I
suppose. At any rate, I smiled my most winning smile, rose, and
greeted him.
"No need to rise, young lady. Please, we'll get
down to business. I understand you talked to D.X." He was
cool, but there was a note of concern in his voice. Why?
"Yes, he stopped by this morning. With no notice, I
might add. He's a strange man, Dave Machina. But he seemed to
know what he was talking about."
"Yes, well, um, you see--" was that a British
accent? Or New England? "--um, yes, Mr. Machina was correct.
About everything."
"And you can smooth the waters. Get this movie
made."
"Well--it's a bit more complicated, you see--"
I sighed. "I don't, Mr. Unknown. Tell me what I
don't see."
And so he did.
* * *
It seems that, about ninety years ago, the Athena
League, a band of women committed to female dominance,
discovered the secret of GTS, which had been until then the
exclusive province of a shadowy organization known as the Cadre.
It was assumed, among the Cadre, that one of its members had
gone over--but nobody was ever identified, and the pieces to the
GTS puzzle were there, waiting to be assembled.
As the years passed, the Athena League's plan became
apparent--get the public used to the idea of strong women--even
giant women--and then use GTS to make those fantasies reality.
The Cadre fought all the way, trying at all turns to
prevent dissemination of material on Giantesses. The media
expression of GTS was shunted into pulp fiction and B-movies.
In recent years, though, the Athena League began to
grow more bold. It was said that they were ready to use GTS
anyhow, whether the public was ready to accept it or not. A few
brave souls in the Cadre, led by D.X. Machina, argued for
reconciliation with the League, and a negotiated truce that
would have allowed the secret of GTS to be exposed, and the boon
granted to those willing to use it; but the old guard would have
none of it. The lid was jammed on tighter than ever. D.X. left
the Cadre, though he never surrendered his seat, and nobody ever
moved to remove him. Now, the old guard had the upper hand--and
any fictional mention of GTS was bound to be squelched.
"And so you see," concluded the man, "It's a bit
more complex than just green-lighting a project. The future of
the human race has unfortunately come into play."
I stretched back. "But what of my friends--haven't
they come into contact with GTS?"
"Yes," said the man gravely. "Thanks to D.X. And
that's the devil of it. He's using GTS for frivolous ends. I
fear that there are great problems about to surface now that GTS
is out in the open--and I fear for your friends."
* * *
Scott Chelgren
First Avenue Night Club
First Ave & 7th St
Minneapolis, Minnesota
Sarah et al. disappeared into the crowd, and
part of me died.
After all, what I really wanted was Sarah. Sarah,
and nothing else, and I would be a happy man.
But to gain that happiness, I would have to deny her
happiness.
Damn it, I hate when shit like this happens.
A huge foot smashed down next to me, and I broke
from my reverie. While part of me had died (that part that
includes my heart and soul), the rest of me lived, and that part
of me did not want to die. At least, not much.
I suppose had I not known First Ave well I would
have been in trouble. As it was, though, I spent the better
part of my formative years here. I would have to get over by
the pool tables. To stay on the main floor was suicide.
I hopped up onto a pair of Doc Martens that were
wandering by. They seemed to be headed in the right direction.
Yep--there was the souvenir table, so the pool tables should be
just about--there!
It was between sets, so there was a bit more traffic
in this area than I wanted. Nevertheless, I needed to think,
and if I could make it under the tables without dying, I'd have
that chance.
The boots had continued down the ramp and over to
the vending machines. I was still one inch tall--I didn't know
whether I should change size, and I've always believed that,
when in doubt, don't change what you're doing.
Ha.
I needed another lift to the pool tables, and I
found it in a pair of iridescent green sandals, that belonged
to a short-skirted alternachick. She walked over to the pool
tables--I knew she would. She was one of the fangirls, the
fourteen-something girlfriends of the fanboys. They come to
shows to mosh, and crowd surf, and I don't know why they come to
Ben Folds Five, because they're a piano group. But whatever.
She was nice enough to walk over to the pool tables for me, I
won't criticize.
I blocked out the world, and tried to think.
* * *
Sarah Kensington
First Avenue Night Club
First Ave & 7th St
Minneapolis, Minnesota
We arrived at the tail end of the opening band--they
were equal parts forgettable and bad. So we mostly just stood
around, listening to the music blaring over the speaker and
watching clips of midget wrestling. By the time Ben Folds Five
finally took the stage, I was bored out of my skull. I hoped
these guys were good. Scott spoke highly of them.
* * *
KellyAnn Johnson
First Avenue Night Club
First Ave & 7th St
Minneapolis, Minnesota
They opened with "Jackson Canary," one of the best
of all time. Man, I'm amazed at what Ben Folds can do with a
piano. Then they ripped through "Song For the Dumped," brought
out the lighters with "Brick," and then ripped things up again
with "Uncle Walter." Man, they were good. It seemed like Sarah
was enjoying it, anyhow.
* * *
Anonymous
en route to Beverly Hills, California
The meeting shook me up. The girl was right, of
course. It was only a movie. But the story was about real
people--who had benefited from GTS. The Cadre would never
support it. Never.
But what worried me more was the seemingly simple
way in which the one lad had gained access to GTS--a book,
readily available, published by D.X.
I jumped when the Cell Phone rang. I picked it up
with trepidation. "Hello?" I asked.
"This is the Chairman," the voice said, and indeed,
it sounded like him.
"She was a girl of sixteen," I said, wanting to make
sure.
"A pleasant, frolicsome girl," he agreed. "You're
going on assignment."
It appeared I was.
* * *
Scott Chelgren
Here I stand--sad and free. I can't cry and I can't
see what I've done. God...what have I done?
The words pierced me like a knife. It was always
one of my favorite songs. It's true, for me at least, that I
always wanted to get into a car and drive anywhere. And
yet--here I was, doing the scale-specific equivalent, and I was
stuck on the chorus.
What have I done?
Focus, focus. You've left Sarah, and you want to go
back. Of course you do. But remember why you left. For her.
Don't go charging after her now. You'll hurt her.
But--
Stow it. What now? Hang at First Ave forever?
You'd see some good bands.
No, I'd get squashed at some point. And I don't
think I could live forever on stale beer and dropped popcorn.
Well?
Well, seems to me I should head home with one of the
crowd. Set up shop in their home. Maybe someday reveal myself.
Probably not soon.
Good idea, chum. You're getting good at this.
Too much practice, mate.
* * *
Sarah Kensington
"BEN FOLDS FIVE! BEN FOLDS FIVE!"
The crowd was chanting enthusiastically for that
moment of spontaneity, the encore. Of course, the band would be
back out in just a second, but for now, the crowd was paying its
respects.
I was chanting along with 'em. Wow. The show was
amazing! I would have to tell Scott later that I should've
bought their albums when he told me to. I wondered how Scott
was doing--tried to feel him, but couldn't. Odd. Usually when
traveling with me I could feel his every move.
Oh well, he was probably being still. Probably.
* * *
Scott Chelgren
They were closing with "Underground," which made
sense. It was their first hit, and it's a very danceable number.
In spite of myself, I half grooved to the music.
Who to go with? I had a few minutes to decide, and
I had decided on a fangirl. Why? Because I could see her from
here. She looked kinda cute, with a long black skirt and
Birkenstocks. I would go home with her, because--well, because.
Why not her?
So as the song wound down, I headed straight for
her, and vaulted onto the deck of her sandal, right by her
silver-painted toenails. Instinctively, I halved my height to
one-half inch, and settled in between big and second toe. I
looked up--I hoped she was a decent girl.
It didn't really matter to me. I'd poured my heart
out, and it had evaporated.
* * *
Sarah Kensington
Middlebrook Hall
West Bank, University of Minnesota
It was almost an hour later when we got back to
Middlebrook. I was now nervous. I headed straight for the
bathroom, closed my door, and carefully pulled off my shirt.
He wasn't there.
I pulled off everything, a little less carefully
when I reached the end. When I did reach the end, I stared into
the mirror. He was gone--again.
And I feared he wasn't coming back.
* * *
the narrator
Summit Hill Neighborhood
St. Paul, Minnesota
And so it was that at that very moment, a man in
California, who called himself David Machina, or D.X. to some,
woke up.
It had been a rough day for D.X., and it was going
to get rougher.
He h ad sensed a disturbance in GTS.
A disturbance that was about to send him home.
Home to meet his maker.
by D.X. Machina
"So we grew together,/Like to a double cherry, seeming parted,/But yet an union in partition."
--William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night's Dream, Act III Scene 2
Scott Chelgren
Whereabouts Unknown
We were in a car.
More I cannot say. We had gone out of First Ave and
headed for the ramp across the street from Blues Alley, walked
up two flights of stairs, and ended up inside a car with a
charcoal gray interior. We were on the passenger side. Across
the stick shift, I could see another girl, wearing a black top
and long black jeans. I didn't know if anyone else was in the
car besides her and my transporter.
That was ten minutes ago, and we were driving
somewhere. I wondered where.
* * *
Sarah Kensington
Lobby of the Humphrey Institute
West Bank, University of Minnesota
Scott told me once that he liked to come here to
think.
It was quiet, and a calm place to study--and indeed,
there was a lot of space to stretch out and just relax, and
wonder about what the future held.
A nice place.
A nice place.
Oh, God, oh my God, why? Why?!? Why did he
convince himself he was holding me back? Why did he leave me?
I was sobbing. How could he ever think that I
didn't need him? That his existence held me back? Didn't he
remember that night back in June?
Didn't he remember?
I made a wish, then and there.
I wished that, whatever happened, whatever the
future would bring, that Scott would be safe. That he would be
okay.
I just wished I knew.
I sat in the Humphrey Institute and cried until I
was cried out. Then I headed back home.
I had some calls to make.
* * *
Claire Danes
Beverly Hills, California
The phone rang, and a chill ran down my spine.
I knew something was wrong.
I walked slowly over, and as if in a dream, picked
up the phone.
"Hello," I said.
"He's gone, Claire," she said.
And I knew it was going to be a hard, hard night.
* * *
Anonymous
LAX
Los Angeles, California
I looked at the dossier. D.X. Machina. Everything
known about him. Where he came from, how he ended up in the
Cadre, his known acts since leaving us.
I had been ordered to find him. And to bring him
back to Los Angeles. By any means necessary.
Which is why I was waiting for a non-stop flight to
Chicago O'Hare International Airport. He had ties to the
Chicago area. I would go there first.
* * *
Scott Chelgren
Somewhere in Suburban Minneapolis/St. Paul
The car pulled into a driveway, and I had to make a
decision.
It was a relatively easy one, based on my
unwillingness to trek across a car, and the spirit of "que sera
sera" which governed my actions.
I would go with the girl that brung me.
I climbed onto the birks and held on as the car door
opened.
It appeared we were going home.
* * *
We made it inside the door, and I leapt to safety.
Not that I had anything against the girl's feet--they were quite
nice--but they weren't the safest place for me to be at that
moment.
I looked around, and tried to get my bearings. I
was in four-foot-high powder blue shag carpet, which appeared to
go on forever. It was apparently the living room--I thought I
could hear a television on somewhere.
I increased my height to three inches--tall enough
to move, but still small enough to blend in somewhat--and
started inwards.
I saw my hostess turning down the hall, and I
decided to follow her. It seemed like a plan, anyhow. Keeping
along the baseboard, I walked until I reached the first room on
my right. I was just about to turn into the room when a huge
foot stomped down in front of me. It belonged to a five or six
year old girl, who was apparently heading out to the living
room. I groaned inwardly. My biggest fear was always that Susi
would find me, and try to make me into one of her dolls. Sarah
used to say--
Shut up, brain.
I continued down the hall.
* * *
D.X. Machina
Somewhere in New Mexico
It was a crisp fall evening, and I was busy doing
not much of anything. It was easy enough to do nothing here in
the desert, and I came here as often as time permitted.
I was debating whether or not I should pull another
crystal out and distribute it. I had a pretty good success rate
with those things--people always felt like they were in control
with 'em, even though really, all the power they were using came
from within themselves. Still, they were pretty enough, and
with that little bogus history I gave out with 'em, they sure
convinced people they were the real thing.
I could either pull the crystal out, or I could
maybe enroll at a college somewhere, and quietly distribute some
more GTS.
It's what I did. Get GTS out to those who needed
it. A far more satisfying career than selling computers. A
tremendous amount more satisfying than quashing even the mention
of GTS.
I don't know why I ever signed on with the Cadre.
Actually, yeah I do--I was unemployed, accidentally stumbled on
the secret of GTS, and used it against the Athena League without
even realizing what I was doing, and before I knew it, I was on
the Cadre's board, and richer and more powerful than I ever
imagined.
Of course, I was denying happiness to billions, and
that's why I left years ago.
I heard my beeper go off, and I went over to it.
Claire Danes' number. I guess she talked to Anon--I wondered
how that went.
I really wondered why she was paging me. She said
she'd do it only if things turned ugly.
I picked up the phone. Well, it beat watching my
Cubs lose, anyhow.
* * *
Scott Chelgren
I reached the last door in the hall, and walked
through. Yeah, this was the room of a high school girl. I did
have more respect for her--her posters were of Ani and Soul
Coughing, not Alanis and Collective Soul. Maybe she was a girl
with taste after all.
She was sitting at her desk, studying. I tried to
size up her age. Sixteen? Seventeen? It was hard, and I never
was very good at it. She did have cool short green hair,
though. Always liked green hair.
She stretched, and I sighed. I was going to have to
forget. I had done it before. It had been easy then--my life
was largely forgetful before my change. It would be very hard
now, for my life had been anything but forgetful since. But I
would forget, somehow.
Perhaps with this one, or one like her. Perhaps. A
thought was forming in my mind, one which I did not push away.
Perhaps I was going insane. Or perhaps I was simply starting to
overcompensate.
Perhaps.
* * *
D.X. Machina
The phone rang just once before it picked up.
"David?" the voice said. Claire's voice was quiet and quavery;
I began to wonder why. "Yes, Claire. How can I help you? Did
my friend cause you any problems?"
"Never mind about that," she said, abruptly.
"There's a far worse problem. One which I think only you can
help me with."
I paused. "What is the problem, Claire?"
"Do you remember a gentleman by the name of Scott
Chelgren? You gave him the gift of GTS."
"Of course, the subject of your script. Why?"
"He's missing."
I sighed. I tried to reach out to him. I could do
it, sometimes. But his mind was blocked. His girlfriend's
mind, however, was howling with pain and anguish. He decided he
was holding her back, eh? Common enough. I hoped he lived
long enough to get over this stupid notion.
But--"Yes, I know. He's got the idea he's holding
Sarah back somehow."
I heard Claire mumble an oath, than say, "If you
know, you can find him and drag him back to Sarah. Get it
through his tiny head that she loves him no matter what."
"It's not that easy," I said, sitting down. "I
mean, I give this gift, but what people do with it is up to--"
"DON'T GIVE ME THAT CRAP!" I jerked the phone away
from my ear. Claire could yell! "Find Scott! Get him back to
my friend!"
"You're not really in a position to give orders," I
offered.
"Don't test me, Mr. Machina. Or would you like me
to give the Cadre your pager number? They're resourceful-They
could probably track you down with it."
I chuckled. She had style, all right. "Very well.
Mr. Chelgren is in Minnesota, correct? I'll do what I can." We
concluded the call, and I leaned back. I studied the crystal I
had pulled, then hung it around my neck. I was off to my
hometown. I hoped I could be of assistance.
* * *
Karen Kensington
Apple Valley, Minnesota.
"Yeah, Sar, I know. He'll come back. He did in
L.A. He loves you, y'know? He's just screwed up right now....I
know he said that, but he'll figure out soon enough that he's
being a moron....Look, he managed to survive Universal Studios,
that place is easily as packed as First Ave. He's okay. Really.
"I love you, Sar. Take care....He will, I promise.
Yeah, bye."
I hung up the phone and blinked back a tear. Scott,
what the hell are you doing? I mean, it's like you fight
through Los Angeles to get back to Sarah, and now you leave her?
You moron, she's nuts about you, and you're nuts about her.
Can't you see that?
Maybe he can't.
The course of true love never did run smooth, and
that's what you and Sarah have.
Come on, figure it out Scott.
Please?
* * *
Scott Chelgren
I crawled under the bed, and was pleasantly surprised
to find quite a mess in under there, including a half-eaten bag
of chips, enough to feed me for the foreseeable future. I laid
out a white bobby sock, and tried to make up a bed for myself.
Sleep wasn't going to come easy tonight, I could see that. But
it would have to come. The coming weeks were going to be hard.
I peeked out under the bed ruffle and looked around
the room.
The girl was changing for bed. She was really quite
attractive, I couldn't help but notice. I sighed as I watched
her pull her nightgown on, and head for the bed.
She wasn't Sarah.
* * *
Sarah Kensington
Middlebrook Hall
West Bank, University of Minnesota
"Sarah, what's wrong?"
It was the question I had been dreading. Kelly was
pretty perceptive, and she had picked up on my distress almost
immediately. What to tell her? The truth? Yeah, that made no
damn sense.
But I had to tell her something, and I found that I
was, indeed, telling her the truth.
I had gotten almost halfway through the condensed
story of Scott and I before I realize what the hell I was doing,
and I stopped on a dime. "I must sound crazy," I admitted, and
lapsed into silence.
"No," she said, quietly. "No, you don't. Laurie
and I found a little man of our own o nce."
My head jerked up. "What! What do you mean?"
"We found him in our room last spring. About two
inches tall. He ran away, though. We really just used him for,
um, personal stuff. I don't think we ever even really thought
of him as human. But he must have been like your Scott. A real
person. Scared and alone in a world of giants. And we--man,
now we both feel bad."
We sat in silence for a while, before Kelly finally
spoke again.
"If it is true love, then he'll be back. It's
inevitable. It's the way the story has to end."
"I wish I could believe that," I groaned.
"We live in a world with two-inch-tall men," said
Kelly, quietly. "I think almost anything is believable if you
accept that."
I smiled slightly. Maybe Kelly was right.
She had to be.
by D.X. Machina
"There were giants on the earth in those days."
--Genesis 6:4
Scott Chelgren
Home of Tanya Robertson
Wayzata, Minnesota
It was about three thirty or so, and Tanya would be
getting home soon. I was sort of looking forward to it. It was
a break in the monotony, anyhow. She was a kind of like
company. I could sit and watch her study, and imagine that she
knew I was there. It was what I did every night, from the
relative cover of her bed.
She didn't know, of course, that I was there.
Didn't know that I'd been observing her for the past two weeks.
Well, I had to do something, and this was it: try to get a
fly-on-the-wall's view of a typical teenage girl (albeit one
with green hair). And I'd done well in my observation. I
picked up on her name (Tanya Robertson), her grade (Senior), her
school (Wayzata), her activities (newspaper and quiz bowl), her
boyfriend's name (Chuck something-or-other) and even such things
as her favorite snacks (potato chips and bananas).
I rarely had to leave her room, and when I did it
was at breakneck speed. I was playing it safe, and I probably
could have done it forever.
But it was getting dull. I needed a challenge.
This was safe, but it was too safe--and I was getting
bored. I needed to do something.
So I started to plan.
* * *
Anonymous
Glenview, Illinois
No sign of him. That wasn't a surprise. D.X.
always was a private individual, and he had more reason now for
privacy than ever. Those contacts he had here were reticent,
save for one who offered the opinion that D.X. Machina could "go
to Hell."
So I sat at the cafe and drank cafe and wondered
what to do next. Mayhaps I would go to Arizona. I had heard
he spent time there.
I had to find him, though. Or the Cadre would drum
me out.
So I considered my options, and read the
entertainment magazine, and pondered.
* * *
Sarah Kensington
Lind Hall
East Bank, University of Minnesota
Shakespeare is fascinating. At least I've always
found him to be. His language has such a rhythm, such panache,
and his storylines are breathtaking in their complex simplicity.
I love Shakespeare, and I was glad to have this opportunity to
study him.
It was doubly good, because it kept my mind off
other business. Two weeks! May as well have been two years.
Scott found me in a week in Los Angeles, a city ten times the
size of Minneapolis. He'd wanted to then. He'd been able to,
then.
If he was going to find me, he would have found me
by now.
So I turned back to A Midsummer Night's
Dream. The course of true love never did run smooth.
* * *
Scott Chelgren
By the time night fell, and Tanya climbed into bed,
I had come up with a diversion. Something to do. Something to
alleviate the boredom, and to get my mind off of her.
I would go to school with Tanya.
It was Wednesday, by my reckoning. That gave two
school days before the weekend. Time to get acclimated. I had
an idea for a game that would involve me going to school each
school day, and coming home each night with a different girl.
You know, try to get a wider variety of people, try to get out
and meet folks.
Something like that, anyhow.
I laid down and tried to sleep. The morning would
be interesting, I was sure.
* * *
D.X. Machina
Minneapolis Downtown Hilton
Minneapolis, Minnesota
I paused to look at the statue of music before I
went out onto the mall. I always liked this hotel; it had
style. And this statue was cool, man. Almost made me want to
grab my old trombone and see if I remembered how to play.
I was going down to Uptown, to see an old friend of
mine. I was hoping she could help me break through to one Scott
Chelgren, MIA I had tried all the tricks I knew--meditation,
channeling, eating really spicy Thai food--but none of them had
worked. Scott had shut his mind down so far that I couldn't
even sense him.
He wasn't dead, though. I would've sensed that.
So I had to try to find him, talk some sense into
the lad. Or else Ms. Danes would rip my still-beating heart
from my chest, or so she had mentioned in our last
correspondence.
I stepped out onto Nicollet Mall. It was a crisp
October morning in my hometown, and I smiled in spite of myself,
and headed for the bus stop. The 17 would be by soon enough.
* * *
Scott Chelgren
I awoke early; truth be told I usually did. I
wasn't sleeping well, and my excitement had only exacerbated my
insomnia. Still, for the first time in two weeks, my thoughts
weren't entirely comprised of Sarah...one or two of them were on
other things. That was a victory, I thought.
I heard the alarm go off, and heard the dull thud of
Tanya hitting the snooze button. I stretched, and tried to
decide how best to go about this.
First of all, I shrunk myself down to half an inch
tall. Part of the game--if I grew above that height, I would
lose. Of course, there were no real consequences of losing, but
the game had to have rules, didn't it? Then I wandered out into
the room.
It was still barely dawn on that early October
morning. I could hear Tanya's breathing, and not much else. I
looked around the room until I spied it.
One of the things I had learned about Tanya was that
she always put her clothes out the night before, and always over
by her desk. Today she was wearing a white blouse and a black
skirt (a slight departure from her usual black blouse and black
shirt). They were hung neatly on her closet door. I walked
over to them.
The skirt brushed the floor; I grabbed a hold of the
fabric and started to climb the inside hem. I was already a
good three inches above the hem when Tanya finally awoke.
I kept climbing until she returned; I figured I must
be just below knee level by now. I didn't want to get too high,
lest I get knocked off and hurt in the fall. But as I felt the
skirt drop to the floor, I realized I might be too high already,
as the fabric piled up around me.
I started to panic, but forced myself to calm. She
would step into the skirt presently, pull it up, and then I
would be fine. As I thought this, she did that, and I found
myself a true inch below knee level.
I'm too good at this.
I knew I would have to climb higher for safety's
sake, and so, as she wandered her room, her titanic legs always
behind me, I began to climb again.
By the time we left the house, I was two true inches
above her knees, and climbing hard.
* * *
D.X. Machina
Uptown
Minneapolis, Minnesota
I hopped off the bus at the stop by SA. A walk to
Teresa's, to be sure, but I needed time to think about where
things were heading.
Yes, I'd brought GTS to the masses, or at least a
vanishingly small number of the masses. For this great boon, I
was suffering the punishment of Prometheus. I was on the run
now, and I knew that I couldn't stay in Minneapolis for long.
He was following me. And it bugged me. I had
considered him a friend and an ally, yet he had been in Chicago
for the past week, trying to track me down. Why? Not because
he wanted to renew acquaintances. And not because he needed to
talk to me, or warn me, or any crap like that. No, he was doing
this for Mr. Koschkei, the Chairman, and I didn't like it.
I came to the storefront presently. Madame
Theresa's PSYCHIC Studio. Not very original, but hey, I suppose
it did the job for her.
I knocked on the door.
* * *
Scott Chelgren
En route to Wayzata High School
Wayzata, Minnesota
The going was easy, now.
I was walking along her thigh, heading towards her
waist.
I could feel the pull of her scent; the soft,
sweet/pungent aroma that was so magnified by my size, or lack
thereof. It was always hard to ignore; this morning I found it
quite impossible.
I was careful. I reached her panties (plain white
cotton, I noticed) and immediately entered. I doubt she noticed.
The heat and scent were overpowering. I did pause,
for a moment, and wonder at what I was doing. But only for a
moment.
I felt my way into the underbrush, and slid along
towards the top of her vagina. I could feel her muscles
contracting beneath me slightly; I doubted she was truly aware
of me, but her body knew of my presence.
I felt her begin to rise, and I held on.
We were going into class.
* * *
D.X. Machina
Teri is an old friend. I don't truly know how old;
she claims we knew each other as slaves in ancient Egypt. I
used to smile and nod politely when she said this, but that was
before the Madison incident.
I don't discount much these days.
Her receptionist was an overpierced, overtatooed,
bald specter of womanhood. She smiled, and said in a cheerful
voice, "What do you want?"
"I need to speak to Madame Theresa. It's important."
"And who, might I ask, are you?"
"Tell her," I paused, then continued. "Tell her
Jake's here."
The woman buzzed back, and announced me.
Six-point-three seconds later, Teri appeared, all
four-foot-eleven of her. She had changed her hair color to
black, and she was pale--almost a Gaimanesque figure. But her
violet eyes still shone with the sparkle I had first noticed in
High School, eight years and a lifetime ago.
"Jake! Come on back, love!"
I followed her into her meeting room, and she closed
the door.
"Hi, Teri."
"GOD DAMN YOU, JAKE THEISSEN!"
I sighed. I guess I'd earned this.
* * *
Tanya Robertson
Wayzata High School
Wayzata, Minnesota
It was strange. I felt almost giddy. I was, ooh, I
was, um, wow....
That pretty much describes it, I guess.
I didn't notice anything until I sat down for first
hour. It was A.P. American Government, and things were getting
dull, as usual. My teacher, Mr. Lowenstein, has this tendency
to drone on, and on, and on. So I was trying to keep notes,
when I began to notice a certain feeling.
I recognized it. I mean, it's hard not to know
you're getting aroused. But, I mean, why? Certainly my teacher
wasn't doing it for me. I couldn't figure it out.
But my clit almost ached with ecstasy. I could
almost feel something down there, doing something...incredibly
good, wow. I could feel myself getting wet. I was just glad I
had gym class next hour. I was going to need some deodorant,
and fast.
by D.X. Machina
"Lord! I wonder what fool it was that first invented kissing."
--Jonathan Swift, "Dialogue II"
Scott Chelgren
Wayzata High School
Wayzata, Minnesota
That was pretty fun.
It had been too long since I'd done that--brought a girl off without her
even knowing I was there. I'd rarely done it intentionally. But it was lots of
fun--good for the ego, you know.
I was resting in the afterglow of the moment when Tanya rose. I was almost
caught unaware. Almost. But I've learned to be fast on my feet; I held myself
fast to one of her hairs, and hoped that next hour would be even more fun
We arrived at our destination soon enough. I tried to figure out where we
were from the muffled sounds coming from outside. Then, suddenly, a bit of
light began to shine through the fabric--not much, but enough for me to realize
that Tanya had removed her skirt.
Instinctively, I dropped into her panties. I didn't know what Tanya was
doing, but I could think of one or two things that would have been at the least
unpleasant for a person standing in her bush. So I dropped into the panties as
she began to remove them. I think it was a good decision.
No sooner had the panties hit the floor than they were rising again. She was lifting them--where? I got my answer in short order, when they were dropped on top of a pile of Tanya's clothes.
We were in the locker rooms! I should have known.
* * *
D.X. Machina
Uptown
Minneapolis, Minnesota
"Teri, let me explain, I-"
But she was already shaking her head, and sighing. "It's not bad enough
that you skip town, disappear without telling any of us where you're going, and
refuse to talk to anyone. Now you're back like six years haven't passed, and
I'm supposed to just accept it, right?"
"Teri, I-"
"Stow it!" she said, backing be towards the wall. For a girl who was less
than five feet tall, Teri could be forceful. Then again, I've had plenty of
time to learn that size is relative. "Jake, it's bad enough you do all that-but
you blocked your mind to me! Why?"
I groaned, internally. "Teri, it's...it's a long story."
She frowned, and looked and me with a withering look. "I thought you'd say
that. Jake, I vowed a while ago that I'd do something if I ever saw you again.
Well...it's again." She sighed, and looked down as if to summon the strength of
the ages. When she looked up, she was intent. She smiled, slightly, and said,
"Yes. Now."
And with that, she stepped forward, pulled my head down to hers, and kissed
me.
* * *
Scott Chelgren
They say that those who do not learn from the lessons of history are
condemned to repeat them.
I was in a sportsbra.
Now, don't get me wrong. There are certainly worse places to be than the
sportsbra of an attractive high school student. But there are certainly better
ones, too. And there are most definitely safer ones.
But when life hands you melons, make melon balls, I always say.
It was, of course, my own damn fault that I ended up here. When Tanya took
her panties off, and I had a chance to look around, I knew exactly where I was,
and what dangers awaited me here. I'd been in this position before, you see.
So I didn't try to make a run for it. There'd be plenty of time for me to seek
out a new hostess later. Instead, I resolved to simply bide my time in Tanya's
locker, and when she came back, I'd leave with her.
Simple.
Right.
Nothing is simple, lately.
I watched in bored fascination as Tanya put on her gym clothes-granted, the
novelty was wearing off after six months, but it was still mighty impressive
that an eight hundred foot tall woman was able to move, let alone go through all
the gymnastics involved in getting dressed.
Had I not been watching Tanya, I probably would've seen the other girl
walking up to the bench. It probably wouldn't have been such a surprise when
she dropped her leotard on top of me.
But hindsight is 20:20.
When the world went dark, I cursed, and tried to figure a way out of my
predicament. The outfit was heavy, and while I could've withstood it without
too much trouble, I found myself trying to lift the fabric off me by clutching
the fabric and holding it over my head.
I was clutching the fabric when the girl lifted the leotard, and began to
put it on.
I was holding onto a scrap of cloth on the lower anterior portion of the
leotard. That is to say, I was on the outside, on the part of the leotard that
covered the girl's ass. This would've been okay-I got a good view, and she had
a very nice ass-but she wasn't quite done dressing. She sat down to put her
shoes on.
Having been crushed nearly to death once, and having found the experience
less than enjoyable, I decided that I should probably try to leap to safety.
I leapt seconds before butt met bench, and I rolled safely to a stop. I
started to turn to get a better look at the girl, when I suddenly felt myself
being lifted.
I had landed right on Tanya's sportbra.
This was not good.
* * *
D.X. Machina
Do you remember the girl you had the biggest crush on in High School? Maybe
she was a cheerleader, or the Homecoming Queen. In my case, she was a
friend-but only a friend. That was always clear to me, I thought. At any rate,
I had known she was too pretty, too smart, and too cool to ever, ever think of
me as anything else.
I was wrong.
After what seemed an eternity, we broke from that kiss. It was a kiss I had
always imagined, always wondered about. Now, I had reached that moment when
fantasy and reality intersected.
People always say the fantasy is better than the actual event.
Bullshit.
This was better than I could've dreamed. And I had dreamed.
I looked at Teri. She was smiling lazily. She swept her hair back, and I
sighed.
"See what you've been missing, Jake?" she said, quietly.
* * *
Scott Chelgren
I could hear the muffled sound of music from outside the world of Tanya's
breasts that I now inhabited. Damn schools for instituting step aerobic
classes! Then again, I knew I should count my blessings. The last time this
had happened, it was volleyball.
At least I could time this. Tanya would go up on one and two, down on three
and four. I knew where her breasts would go, and I just rode the wave. I was
helped by the fact that Tanya's breasts weren't overwhelmingly large. Maybe a B
cup at most. And they were firm, which meant they didn't move too badly. Oh,
it was a rough ride. But for the first time in a long time, I thanked heaven
that the girl whose breasts I was touching wasn't a double-D.
After an endless time, the class ended, and we headed back to the locker
rooms.
This day's adventure was about to begin.
* * *
D.X. Machina
It was about twenty minutes later, after some more kissing, and lazy,
cheerful discussion about our high school days, that I began to notice something
odd.
I don't think most men would've noticed, but I'm used to these things.
I was shrinking.
And the process was speeding up.
I excused myself for a minute, and used Teri's restroom. I tried to focus
on my size. I was definitely smaller-I'd dropped about half a foot since our
first kiss. I could control it still-I knew that if I wanted to, I could will
the size change away.
Why was Teri shrinking me? Never mind, she has cause. I'd better stop the
process before she's sure it works...
But I smiled at my reflection in the mirror. Did I really want to do that?
And miss the opportunity to see Teri as a giantess?
What am I, nuts?
I returned to the room, my clothes fitting looser than usual. "Remember
Kevin Sullivan?" I asked, giving Teri a peck on the cheek. "What ever happened
to him?"
This was going to be a fun afternoon.
* * *
Scott Chelgren
I dropped onto the bench, tired and happy to be only kind of bruised. I
smelled of Tanya's sweat-not a bad smell, but not necessarily a good one,
either. I was really just in the mood for a shower and a nap.
But that defeated the concept of the adventure I was on, didn't it?
Well, maybe not. But I was doing what I was doing, and nothing was going to
stop me quite yet, I didn't think.
I watched Tanya grab some soap and head to the showers, just as the girl who
had almost crushed me earlier sat down with a whumpf! on the bench.
Now that I got a look at her, I realized she was quite attractive. She was
wearing jeans and a tight, tight sweater that showed off quite a lot of her
assets. She had dark skin, dark eyes, and dark hair-she was bewitching.
I decided it was time for me to make my change.
I headed over to her.
I was dwarfed by her thigh, towering over me as she pulled on her keds three
hundred feet below. I saw my ticket presently; a loose thread from her sweater,
dangling down to arm's reach. I grabbed it, and began to climb.
This might just be fun, I thought.
* * *
D.X. Machina
I waited a long time before I "discovered" my predicament. Almost two
hours, and I'd shrunk about a foot and a half, by my estimation. The process
was speeding up, too; I'd lost a full foot in the last half an hour. I expected
that Teri wanted me very small, indeed.
Teri had left the room to go get us some Scotch; the good stuff, single
malt, we both have a taste for the stuff. I stood up as she left, and smiled in
spite of myself. My clothes were hanging off me at odd angles. Well, it made
sense. I was about four-foot-four at this point. I found myself getting
excited at the prospect of a six-foot-nine Teri walking into the room. What can
I say? There was a reason I went into the GTS business, and it wasn't the
hours.
Teri walked back in, and when she saw me standing there, a big grin played
out over her face. I don't think I even had to feign shock. She was a vision.
Of course, I was still unsure as to whether she was a good or bad vision,
but I was willing to take the risk to find out.
"What-what's happened to me?" I stammered.
"You're shrinking, Jake. You see, I found some friends last year, and I
talked to them about my situation with you. Yes, you Jake, even after all, I
was still moping about losing you as a friend and, well, maybe something else.
But Veronica told me what I could do to keep you mine forever."
I let my mind go blank at that point, bec ause I knew the name Veronica.
Veronica Ceres. Vice President of the Athena League. My sworn enemy. And
someone who I had last dealt with in Madison.
But-could Teri really know about the league? Did she know me by my trade
name?
"Jake, when she said I could keep you in a dollhouse, I thought she was
crazy. But she was right. And now you're mine, for as long as I want you."
"How did you know I'd come back?" I asked, reaching out with my mind. Yes,
I could still stop this, reverse this, at any time. I just didn't want to.
"I always knew you would, someday. You just surprised me by how fast it
was. So much the better," she said, walking over towards me. For a girl who was
almost seven feet tall by my reckoning, Teri could be forceful. But then again,
size is relative.
I just hoped she would be a gentle giantess. This was a dream come true so
far. I'd no desire to wake myself up any time soon.
* * *
Scott Chelgren
I could have gone on climbing, but I was tired, and the girl was sitting at
her desk. The desktop was the size of a football field, and it was just sitting
there, thousands of square feet of flat desk that I could lie down on.
So I was lying down beneath the front cover of the girl's biology book. I
was listening to the discussion in class about the theoretical limits of cell
size, and I laughed in spite of myself. My existence was proof that much of the
biology I'd been taught was wrong, or at best, incomplete. I wondered what
would happen if I showed myself to the world here in this class. Nah. That
would only be exciting until some government scientist decided to vivisect me.
I walked out into the light of day and onto a sheet of paper. I didn't
realize I'd done so until the paper was picked up.
I was on top of a worksheet that was being handed in.
Oops.
I was fortunate. The girl (Nakisha, according to the worksheet) was the
third-to-last person in line to hand in her paper, so I wasn't crushed by a mass
of assignments. Instead, I listened until the bell sounded, and as the class
emptied, I slid myself out from under the papers, and dropped to the desk below.
It was then I spied her. She was making a note of something for the next
class period. She was dressed in a light dress, and her blond hair cascaded
down around her shoulders. She was maybe thirty, probably younger. And she was
lovely.
I smiled in spite of myself. It seemed that I was hot for teacher.
by D.X. Machina
"Think not that thy word and thine alone must be right."
--Sophocles, Antigone
Veronica Ceres
Executive Vice President of the League
The Roosevelt Hotel
New York City, New York
Someday, maybe someone will figure out a way to cut through red tape efficiently.
But that was not the day.
The executive committee of the League had been meeting for four days to try to hammer out the details of what we must do in the coming months. We were at a critical juncture in our dealings with the Cadre. They were outflanking us on all fronts. Indeed, even I would almost have been in favor of giving up, were it not for one factor, and I cannot believe I'm saying it.
D.X. Machina had made this anyone's ball game, so to speak.
We knew the Cadre was in a tizzy; Hell, Koschkei was in full panic mode, according to reliable sources. Rumor had it that he had even dispatched a member of the cadre to track ol' D.X. down, rating it as his top priority.
And to think, I once thought of David as an enemy. Now, if he wasn't my ally, he was at least the enemy of my enemy, and that was something positive.
But back to the meeting. That's really the more important part of this little anecdote.
It was a full-fledged ruckus. Leah--President Jackson--tried to maintain discipline, but to no avail. Special Chairwoman Hamm was calling for an immediate use of The Process to end once and for all any debate between the Cadre and us.
"We need to take action--if any of you know what that is anymore," Mia thundered. "Let the Cadre play their Hollywood games! Who cares?!? One giant woman would eliminate any claim of male superiority for all time."
"Do you really think the Cadre will just stand idly by while we enlarge Cindy Crawford to fifty feet tall? Please," Deanna Lund sighed and cleaned her glasses. "Mia, you don't understand. It's not your fault, you haven't been with us long, but--"
"Don't patronize me, madam liaison! I know what you guys went through back in the seventies, how close you came before Koschkei came rolling in to wipe out our plans. But we've learned from that! We've come so far..."
"...and yet the Madison incident was just six years ago. Care to repeat that, Mia?" I sat down, wearily. "It comes down to the fundamental organizing principle of the universe--unless the people are ready, then any plans we make are moot. Not even the Cadre truly understands that, so I'm not surprised you don't."
"Ladies," said Leah severely, "infighting will get us nowhere. Vice President Ceres is correct--we won't get anywhere unless we can convince the public that women can be powerful--and don't think, Mia, that we're unaware of your efforts to change that perception. Still, if we try to do this prematurely, then we will find that the collective belief of the people will be used against us."
"By the Cadre," said Deanna, glumly.
"Maybe. More likely, though, by D.X. Machina. Veronica."
"Yes?"
"Find D.X. Machina. The Cadre is looking for him, we need to find him first. Offer him anything he wants, we need him on our side in the coming battle."
"Why?" It was a two-part question. Why do we need to get D.X. Machina before the Cadre, and why send me, his archest of enemies, to find him.
Leah dealt with both. "He's a free agent, and he's used his free agency to learn all sides of the issue. He's the holder of a lot of keys to the future. And only you among us have enough of a history with him to truly track him down."
The enemy of my enemy, eh? "All right, Chief, I'll do it."
I wondered where D.X. was. This wouldn't be easy. I wished he was in our hands already.
* * *
D.X. Machina
The apartment above Madame Theresa's Psychic Studio
Uptown
Minneapolis, Minnesota
I was naked, and sitting in Teri's right hand, gazing upon her lovely face as she lifted me up to her lips, the better to kiss me with.
It was quite a long kiss, and when we finally broke, the same lazy smile I'd seen a thousand times drifted quietly across her face, eighteen times wider than usual, but the same as always.
"Tell me you don't enjoy this, Jake."
"I can't lie to you, Teri. I just don't know why you felt you needed to go to this extreme."
It was an act, and not an easy one. I was trying to convince Teri that I was her unwilling captive, or at least her somewhat confused captive. Why, you might ask? Because it's how I was supposed to act. I don't know what she would've thought had I just said, "Wow, shrinking, cool! I like that!"
Instead, I had said, "Teri, this is insanity!"
"This is not insanity. Six years ago was insanity. Your leaving me was insanity."
"We were never together! Not like that!" (Not that I wouldn't have wanted that....)
"Come on, Jake, let's be honest. You wanted me so bad it was farcical. I just never could figure out why you didn't make a move."
"I was shy! And I was afraid you wouldn't reciprocate my feelings."
"Well," she said, finally, "now you know. I would've. I am."
And so I shrank until I was a little bit less than four inches tall, a perfect size to recline in her soft, warm hands, plied by kisses and wine from a thimble, taken to see the dollhouse that would be my temporary home.
I thought about Scott, briefly. Tomorrow. I'd look for him tomorrow.
For now, there was Teri, and as she explained to me for the umpteenth time why she felt it was, indeed, necessary to go to this extreme, I finally said, "You were right, Teri."
"Of course I was. Now, tell me, Jake...if I asked you to make love to me tonight, would you?"
I smiled. "Without hesitation or moral qualm...yes, Teri. Yes."
And I succumbed to the inevitable.
* * *
Scott Chelgren
Home of Melinda Goodwell
Richfield, Minnesota
It had been a pretty good day.
I say this despite the fact that I was ending this evening at the bottom of a hamper, with no real idea how I was going to get free. At least I had some soft places to rest.
I could hear Melinda in the other room. For a brief second, I considered enlarging myself, and shouting for help. But I wasn't ready for that. I realized that I really didn't want to be found by anyone but Sarah. And though Melinda didn't know it, she was the reason I felt this way.
Perhaps I'd better back up.
It was the break in between third and fourth periods when I found myself standing on a desk, looking at a pretty young teacher who was making notes for the next period of class. I was still tired-the day had been something of an ordeal up until now, and I wanted little more than to nap for a while. I decided the best thing to do was to rest now, and hitch a ride out of here with the teacher--it seemed to be a good plan.
And I did just that. In the shadow of the wire basket into which students deposited their assignments, I stretched out and napped straight through the hour.
I woke as the bell sounded, and as thirty papers were dropped in the basket above, I moved towards the teacher.
She was fumbling with her bag. I realized instantly that she was leaving this classroom, whether for lunch or a different room, I wasn't sure. Quickly, I found my way into the basket, and hid among the papers, which she soon lifted and deposited carelessly in her oversized faux-burlap bag.
I have ridden in purses. They're not the safest things in the world, what with makeup and keys and money and tampons raining down on you, but you can survive 'em. A teacher's bag, however, is like a purse on steroids and crack. The bag lurched fore and aft, and I had to contend with not just papers, but pens and paper clips and a thousand other things. I climbed up the spiral in the teacher's gradebook, hoping to avoid sudden death.
Soon, I spotted it: a brown bag that meant one thing in the world of school, and that thing was lunch. I was hungry, undeniably, despite feasting on stale Doritos the night before. I saw a small tear in the bag, and I leapt for it.
I pulled myself inside, and landed on a soft, cushy floor, which must've been a sandwich. The world was still swinging, but at least things seemed safe in here.
I quickly found the opening to the baggie, and pulled myself inside. The smell of turkey permeated the area. The last time I had turkey was what, three weeks? Four weeks? I couldn't remember. Sarah had given me part of her sandwich. (Always with Sarah. Enough!)
Anyhow, I reached the center of the sandwich and began ravenously devouring the turkey inside. It was good stuff. So good, in fact, that I didn't notice that the world was moving in an altogether different direction: up.
I didn't notice until light suddenly streamed in from above, and a huge hand removed the baggie that held the sandwich I was munching on.
Before I had a chance to leap to safety, that hand was reaching into the baggie, closing off my only route of escape. I backed further into the sandwich instinctively, not even realizing the peril in which I was placing myself.
I could hear the usual chatter that goes on at lunchtime. It was eerie, even though I'd had months to get used to it, hearing people do their thing, completely unaware of my existence...but it was still odd.
The sandwich was lifted. This was bad, I realized.
I could see the woman's mouth opening to take a bite. I cringed as mountainous teeth crashed together, as giant lips enfolded the room-sized bite of food. Fortunately, the bite came from six feet to my right, and that gave me a chance.
I bounded forward, diving off the edge of crust, hoping I'd alight safely somewhere-anywhere.
I fell down, the woman's light summer dress passing by dizzily until I finally impacted on her right leg. It hurt a lot, although not as much as getting eaten, I figured.
Gingerly, I stood up. I needed to find a safe port, but I wanted to stay with this woman, who was chewing on her sandwich and making small talk five hundred-some feet above me.
I saw that she had a breast pocket. It would be a long climb, but fabric is easy to climb. So I slowly began my ascension.
I was still climbing when the teacher left the room, but that was okay. I had a handle on things, so to speak, and I was just below her left breast by the time her next class started.
After not too much longer, I managed to tumble down into her pocket. It was relaxing in here--I could feel her firm-soft breast rise and fall with each breath, feel her heart thumping. It didn't take me too long before I fell asleep.
I awoke several hours later. I quickly climbed out of the woman's pocket, and
saw that we were at dinner. I looked across the table, and a handsome, if
gigantic man was saying something.
Now, don't get me wrong, I don't mind giant men; they kind of come with the territory, and as long as I'm tiny, I'm going to keep running into them.
Still, I don't much care for giant men, and I hoped that this dinner wasn't a precursor for later activities.
I looked down, down, down, and saw an enormous diamond on a ring of gold, encircling the ring finger on the left hand of my hostess. So this was her fiancee? Not good.
I looked up, though, and saw that the look on the man's face was not happy, but serious-dead serious. And I realized that the w oman was breathing quickly, unevenly. I listened.
"MELINDA, LOOK, I LOVE YOU, BUT I CAN'T BE THE KIND OF HUSBAND YOU NEED-"
"I DON'T CARE, JEFF, I LOVE YOU. IT DOESN'T MATTER IF YOU'RE TRAVELING FOR YOUR JOB, I..."
"I'M NOT THE GUY, MELINDA, I'M NOT. I LOVE YOU TOO MUCH TO HURT YOU--AND I WILL, IF WE GO AHEAD WITH THIS."
I dove back in the pocket, not listening to the rest of the conversation. They deserved privacy, and besides, my head was ringing. What a fool! I mean, this girl loved him, and he was worried about not being around enough? Work it out! Figure out a way to keep her! True love is rare, you can't throw it away.
But he had, and I realized, as I felt Melinda running, that unless I took drastic action, I would too.
I loved Sarah, right?
Right.
And she loved me, right?
Right.
Then none of it mattered. My sullen decision of sixteen days ago was stupidity. I would need to find her, somehow, tell her I was wrong, and hope she would take me back.
If not, it was my own damn fault-but at least I'd go down swinging, not skulking out in the dark of First Ave.
We were in the car again, and the woman was crying. I decided not to reveal myself to Melinda; I'd simply go to school with her tomorrow, and try to find a PSEO kid, hitch a ride to the University of Minnesota.
I did, however, make the mistake of waiting too long to escape Melinda's pocket. Before I knew it, she was home, and the first thing she did was to pitch her dress into the hamper.
And that's where I am. It's plastic-lined, and it's tough to grab a hold of it to climb it--and I've tried all possible sizes. But I'll get out soon enough, and then I'll find Sarah.
I hope it's not too late.
* * *
Sarah Kensington
Annie's Parlor
Dinkytown
Minneapolis, Minnesota
Kyle really isn't that bad a guy, I guess.
He's no Scott, but he was friendly enough, and he recommended Annie's Parlor for a first date, and it's got good malts.
He's no Scott, but Scott left me. Maybe I will take his parting advice.
And maybe not.
But Kyle's a pretty nice guy, funny and interesting.
* * *
D.X. Machina
I lay on Teri's stomach, tired and hazy, and happy beyond my wildest dreams.
I knew that, sooner or later, I'd have to break this happy spell, but for now, I rested in this Idyllic place.
Time would march on in its usual way; I was just happy that its march had carried me here.
by D.X. Machina
"The reason why so few marriages are happy is because young ladies spend their time in making nets, not in making cages."
--Jonathan Swift, "Thoughts on Various Subjects"
Scott Chelgren
Home of Melinda Goodwell
Richfield, Minnesota
It was about two in the afternoon or so. I think.
Melinda had left some time ago, and it was just me, there by myself with my thoughts. I figured I'd have to wait for her to do laundry to get out--and I knew that could be days. But I've managed that long without food before; I'd do what I had to do. That didn't worry me.
It's other things that worried me.
I'd been in a similar situation before, and it wasn't easy. The way I saw
it, I did have a few advantages:
And I didn't want to run into her again.
But if I had to, I had to. I would, somehow, find Sarah again if it killed me. I knew I loved her, but I was just starting to realize that she loved me too. And that as much as her happiness was my happiness, my happiness was hers.
It was strange, down there at the bottom of Melinda's hamper. Her smell was everywhere. It was a nice smell.
I thought I'd take a nap. This was getting me nowhere.
* * *
D.X. Machina
The apartment above Madame Theresa's Psychic Studio
Uptown
Minneapolis, Minnesota
Teri was downstairs with a client, and it's good that she was. It gave me a chance to think.
It was a pretty nice dollhouse, I must say. I could be comfortable there forever. But duty was calling, I think.
I've gotta do what I've gotta do. I couldn't sit there and ignore the promise I made to Claire. I needed to go find Scott, and talk some sense into the kid. And I've always got that larger, amorphous responsibility to GTS in general. Not that I didn't want to stay here--more that I needed to come back later.
But there I was. And how to leave without hurting Teri--that's something I had to figure out.
But it was a nice day, and I was resting. Worrying was getting me nowhere.
* * *
Sarah Kensington
Uptown
Minneapolis, Minnesota
"So you like Kyle?"
Kelly asked the question for the eighty-third thousandth time, and it was starting to get annoying. "Yes! There, you happy now?" I really didn't know why my mood was so sour. After all, Scott had dumped me, right? I should be over him. Hell, he said he wanted me to date. So this should be easy.
Yada yada yada. It wasn't hard to convince my rational side that I was better off without that little lowlife loser, but anyone who deals with love from their rational side isn't dealing with love.
"And what about Scott?"
"Well, I like him, too." Come to think of it, coming to Uptown with Kelly was a bad idea. I finally stopped dead in my tracks, right in front of the Sri Lanka restaurant, and said, "And if you don't shut up about this, I'll deck you. I'm having enough trouble dealing with my own questions."
"Okay, okay. Fine. Just don't say I never meddled in your personal affairs." This line was delivered with perfect timing and a deadpan grin--it's too bad Scott never got to know Kelly. I think he would've liked her.
At any rate, we headed up the street towards Uncommon Grounds.
This was getting me nowhere.
* * *
Anonymous
Library Mall
The University of Wisconsin--Madison
Madison, Wisconsin
This was the scene of our greatest triumph--D.X.'s triumph, I should say. Five and a half years, it had been, and it was still the greatest provocation the Cadre had ever faced. And we had been victorious!
I don't know why I was there. Yes, actually, I do. To remind me of who it was I was searching for. Not some renegade foe. Not some traitorous scoundrel. No, I was looking for a friend.
I knew where he was headed--Minnesota. Do not ask me how I knew--I just did. So I was headed there. Not to report back to the Chairman. But to find a friend, and if he would let me, to join him.
I could stay with the Cadre forever, arguing and pleading, but that was getting me nowhere.
It was time for a third way.
* * *
Sarah Kensington
The building was nondescript, with a simple sign: "Madame Theresa's PSYCHIC Studio."
"You really want to waste your money on this?" asked Kelly, incredulously, as I trudged deliberately up the walk.
"I've had good luck with psychics before. And it beats sitting around waiting for my mind to start talking to me again. Come on, it'll be fun."
"You're crazy. And that's what I respect about you, Sarah."
We made the appointment with the receptionist, who looked like she was only slightly too alt-y for Macalester. We only had to wait a few minutes for the Madame, who didn't look much older than me, to tell the truth. She invited us back to her studio, and after I crossed her palm with silver (or, to be more accurate, my Norwest Check Card), she began to weave my fortune.
"Let's see...we'll start with the cards. They never seem to fail. Hmmm..." she started laying the cards down, her expression barely wavering. "Let's see...the Queen of Swords. Yes, that does seem representative of you. Now, to draw...interesting. The two of wands. You are in a difficult time. You are in some sort of relationship that is not coming to fruition. You are overly contemplative, or perhaps someone close to you is. This is your atmosphere, yes?"
"Yes," I answered.
"Now then...oooh." She let out a low whistle as she turned over a card marked "Judgement." "Reversed. You are facing a significant obstacle. Deliberation rules, rather than action. It is overthinking which you must avoid. Now," she said, flipping another card, and wincing, "The Three of Swords, Reversed. The best you can hope for at this time is chaos and disorder. But you have as your own to work with," another card, "The Hierophant." She paused. "What an odd card to turn up."
"Why?" I asked.
"Just--it's nothing. I just--it only usually turns up for me in certain cases. But it means that you have a hold over that which you seek. It implies that you can hold what you seek in the palm of your hand." She looked at me meaningfully, but continued.
"Next, Two of Cups, reversed. Folly lies behind you. Next, the King of Pentacles. This is good--a path of wisdom lies before you. Next, the Seven of Cups, reversed. You are filled with desire and determination. The Three of Pentacles, reversed. Hmmm...mediocrity abounds around you, guard against it. Next, The World, reversed. You fear being trapped in this moment, as you are now. Finally..."
She sat motionless, staring at the card as in disbelief. "What?" I said.
"The Empress."
"What does that mean?" I asked.
She was very deliberate. "It means that you have a very deep secret, one you do not share with anyone you do not trust implicitly. You have been in contact with a great many things in the last while that you, and I for that matter, know little about. Tell me, have you ever heard of the Athena League?"
"No," I said, dumbfounded.
"How about the Cadre?"
"No, I haven't. What are they, comic books?"
She shook her head and laughed. "Maybe I just screwed up. This could be my reading, come to think of it. Tell you what, I'll give you your money back, just don't go talking about the Athena League or the Cadre or D.X. Machina to anyone."
She said some more, but it took a second for me to process, and say, "Did you say D.X. Machina?"
Theresa turned slowly back to me. "Yes, I did."
I sighed. "I don't think you screwed up, Madame Theresa. I've met D.X. Machina."
She gasped. "He's almost mythical. A foe of the Athena League, but not much of a friend to the Cadre. I only know a bit about him--the name and such. But...you've met him?"
"Yes, in California. What's this about?"
* * *
Teri Rowland
Madame Theresa's PSYCHIC Studio
Uptown
Minneapolis, Minnesota
"It's a long, long story, Sarah. But--and stop me if I'm wrong--you know a shrunken man, don't you."
She nodded, dumbly.
"And I can see by looking at these cards that he got it into his head that he was holding you back or you were holding him back or some such, and he took off to God knows where--tricky to find, those little guys--but things seem to be shaping up, and if I wasn't a bit of a pessimist, I'd say he was trying to find his way home right now."
"I--you can tell all that from the cards?"
I love the uninitiated. "They're just my way of meditating. Some of my psychic friends like to go the auspex route and eviscerate birds. Be happy I like the Rider Tarot Deck instead."
Sarah seemed a bright girl. So I asked her the next question. "So, did the little guy piss you off, or what?"
"Oh! Nothing like that. I found him. Been keeping him safe for a while now."
"Really? Interesting. Tell me all about your little man."
* * *
Scott Chelgren
It wasn't that late in the evening that Melinda returned home. Probably five or so. And it wasn't fifteen minutes later that she entered the room, and began rummaging around in drawers.
I wondered what she was looking for. Some kind of clothing, I figured. Apparently, she couldn't find what she was looking for among her clean clothes, because she was shortly looking in the hamper which was doubling as my prison.
I was steeling myself for the moment; after all, I wasn't going to let myself be found, but by the same token, if any article of clothing came out of this hamper, I was going with it.
A moment or two later, she reached in, to my left, and I blindly leapt towards the gray mass of fabric she was pulling out. I grabbed, and held on with all my might, as she with one motion pulled the garment out of the hamper and flipped it towards her bed.
The garment and I tumbled over and over until we hit the bed. I groaned. I hate when that happens.
Before I cleared out, the fabric was picked up and stuffed in a bag--a gym bag. Melinda was going to work out.
And (such is live at half an inch tall) I was going along for the ride.
* * *
Teri Rowland
"So you didn't put the D.X. the author and D.X. the fortune teller together?"
"No! I mean, what are the odds?"
"Pretty good, if you're in the right community--which you are, dear." I drank a little more wine. Sure, we'd been sitting around talking for a few hours, about Sarah's little man Scott, and Kelly's little toy what's-his-name, and my little man Jake, and we had all come to a true appreciation of GTS, and I think I would have had a couple of recruits for the League. Maybe.
Anyhow, I said, "Well, I've got a surprise--would anyone like to see Jake?"
"Sure! You say you just shrunk him?" said Sarah. "I can maybe help you out with some of the interpersonal stuff."
We chatted about this and that on our way upstairs. But what happened next surprised us all.
* * *
Scott Chelgren
I was in running shorts.
I was holding on for dear life to a clump of hairs that were themselves compacted back against the damp skin of Melinda's crotch, as she rode a bike or walked the stairmaster or whatever it was she was doing. It was fun, and there was a time when it would have been enough. Not today, though.
I needed to find Sarah soon.
I found I was getting tired of other women's crotches.
* * *
D.X. Machina
I heard three sets of footsteps coming up the stairs, and I've gotta say that it concerned me. But not so much that I hid when Teri called my name.
"Coming!" I cried, as I stepped out onto the balcony. And as soon as I did, my blood froze.
I recognized all three women, although one I only knew in passing. Teri was introducing me as Jake Thiessen, and I made a silent prayer, only to have it dashed.
* * *
Sarah Kensington
I gasped when I saw him--because it was him, without a doubt. "That's--that's--"
"What, Sarah?" asked Teri, nicely.
"D.X." I said, simply.
"Who, Jake? Don't be silly. I've known him since High School. He's not--"
Suddenly, there was a crashing sound, and where a dollhouse had been, there was only a rapidly dissipating cloud of dust and a full-sized man, sitting cross-legged on the table, saying, "Yes, Teri, it's true. I am D.X. Machina."
And Teri immediately fainted.
by D.X. Machina
"Truth is the highest thing man may keep"
--Geoffrey Chaucer, "The Frankleines Tale"
D.X. Machina
The Home of Teri Rowland
Uptown
Minneapolis, Minnesota
"How is this possible?"
The question was hanging in the air, waiting for an answer. But the answer I owed her was too long, and too complex, and not too nice in spots. So I sighed, instead, and said, "Teri, I told you when I got here...it's a long, long story."
She was leaning up against the wall--Kelly and Sarah and I had acted quickly when Teri fainted, and if either girl noticed I was nude, they said nothing--I guess one of the salutary things about knowing shrunken people is that it prepares you for pretty much anything. "You are D.X., right?" It was Sarah asking now. I could see what Scott had seen in her--she had a strong, almost radiant personality, and she kept it under a tight, perfect control.
"Yes, I am. David X. Machina, nee Jacob Thiessen, at your service, madam."
"You're the sworn enemy of Veronica! I mean, she said you were against her group, and that you were out to subjugate women!"
"Well, Teri, Veronica and I have never seen eye to eye, but I'm not against the League, and I'm not out to subjugate women. I just don't want women to subjugate men. That's all."
Teri was afraid--I could tell. Well, the League may be interested in dispersing GTS, but they don't just hand it out to chimps. They had to have indoctrinated Teri, at least a little. And if they told her anything about my alter ego, it wasn't good.
"I know this is a long shot, but...um...."
"Yes, Kelly?"
"Did you know anything about a little guy who ended up in a Catholic Girls School about seven months ago?"
"Yeah, although only through some sources of mine. Don't worry, he's fine."
Kelly brightened. Well, one out of three ain't bad.
***
Anonymous
The Oriental Restaurant
Woodbury, Minnesota
I was sorely disappointed by the food at The Oriental Restaurant. Then again, I should have known better than to eat at a restaurant called "The Oriental Restaurant." It was better than McDonald's, but not by a wide margin.
I was trying to figure out where I would be if I was D.X. Minneapolis and Saint Paul are fairly well-organized cities, and I felt reasonably sure that D.X. was either in Uptown in Minneapolis, at the University of Minnesota, or in the Grand Avenue area of Saint Paul.
Why was I so sure? Because when he lamented to me his nomadic existence, he would always wax nostalgic for Uptown, Grand Avenue, and the U of M. Elementary. So I paid my bill, and stepped outside into the fall day. I was in the middle of Suburbia, and I wanted to leave as quickly as possible. And then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw something. Correction--someone.
***
Teri Rowland
The Home of Teri Rowland
Uptown
Minneapolis, Minnesota
How? How could it be that Jake Thiessen, the guy I had carried a secret torch for all the time I was out at Princeton, all the while I had been studying Ancient Egyptian, ever since I knew him--how could he be Veronica's enemy?
And not just her enemy, but her sworn mortal enemy, sworn to fight everything she supported? Everything I supported? And why was he still here? He knew which side I was on--knew it, I suspected, from the moment I mentioned her name. Maybe before. If he knew I was against him, why did he let me shrink him? Maybe he was telling the truth--maybe he wasn't really her enemy.
Or maybe there was something more here.
I didn't know, I couldn't know. Everything I believed in had been turned on its head.
***
Veronica Ceres
Woodbury, Minnesota
Could it really be him? Anonymous, here? I knew D.X. had some ties here but--well, this had been a good guess. Or perhaps there was simply a fate that shaped our ends. He saw me, and his jaw dropped. I wondered what he was thinking.
Of course I debated; go confront him? Or follow him to D.X.? Did he even know where D.X. was, or was he playing a hunch? Of course, I was playing my own hunches.
Only one way to find out.
I love confrontation.
***
Scott Chelgren
A Health Club
Somewhere in the Twin Cities
I really was beginning to question whether I shouldn't just grow myself and take my chances.
I knew for sure that if I lived to make it back to Sarah I'd just be damn happy she didn't throw me out in the cold and live with it.
I was in a sauna, and if I had been laying a true half-inch to my left or right, I'd be physically part of the sauna. As it was, I was nearly drowning in the sweat from the ass of the woman who sat atop me.
It was my own fault. I'd stayed with Melinda too long--I should've dropped into her gym shorts, but I was too slow, and my only recourse had been to cling to her pubic hair and pray that she wasn't heading directly to the showers. And she didn't.
Instead, she headed into the sauna. It didn't take long until I started to get too tired to hang on, and I slid straight down onto the wood, between her enormous thighs. I tried--really hard!--to regain my composure, but before I could, she got up and left. It was miles to the door of the sauna, and hundreds of feet to the ground at any rate. I would just have to hope that someone else would give me the opportunity to escape.
And she did show up, almost immediately, a twenty-something asian beauty. Of course, she sat down right on top of me, and started to sweat like crazy.
Nobody's perfect.
At least I kind of got my second wind. As she went to stand up, I grabbed a hold of one stray hair, and rode it with her out of the room. The cold air was welcome, but I knew I would have to disembark soon. There's not a person alive who, when concluding a sauna, does not immediately shower. Since I know I'm too small to survive a shower (or at least too chicken), that meant I had to get the hell out of dodge.
* * *
Anonymous
She had seen me--a wry smile was creeping its way across her face, and I knew I had to get out of here. She'd be looking for D.X.--I was a board member, but nobody cares about a liberal junior member of the Cadre. I had to mislead her. I reached my Aston Martin as she began to run towards me. Without hesitating, I started the car, threw it into reverse, and screamed out into the lot. I smiled at Veronica as she cursed, and quickly reversed course towards her own car. Then I did something that a teenage neighbor of mine once called the neutral drop.
I peeled out of the lot, onto the frontage road. No sooner had I reached the light when Veronica's red Miata appeared in my rear-view window. She was going to follow me. Wonderful.
* * *
Veronica Ceres
Well, I will say this, Anonymous isn't a sheep. He was taking off in his very nice British automobile, and I was going to have to chase him down. But I wasn't stupid; getting involved in a high-speed police chase at 6:42 in the evening was foolish. Instead, I followed him, keeping his car in my sights, until he entered the freeway.
Then I started to concentrate.
I was patient--he wasn't going to fast, he probably thought he was misleading me, heading north, then west--just a few percent per mile, not enough to notice until we reached a city called Roseville. I smiled--I needed to get out and do this more often.
* * *
Anonymous
My car roared down the freeway. I didn't want to lose her--I just wanted to make her think I wanted to lose her. Drive around the city for a few hours, then make a break for Duluth. But as I got near Roseville, I began to notice an odd sensation.
It wasn't an unfamiliar one, and that disturbed me. Then I began to pay a bit more attention to the traffic around me. I'd been a fool. She was using her powers, and I was thinking I was eluding her! I exited at County Road B2--I would try to lose her at the shopping mall, and hopefully, repair some of the damage she had caused me.
* * *
Sarah Kensington
The Home of Teri Rowland
Uptown
Minneapolis, Minnesota
"This night just keeps getting weirder," I said, to nobody in particular. It had been the best $20 investment of my life--after all, who better to talk to about Scott then D.X.? After all, he'd been right on about him before. So I was hopeful he was right on now.
But I couldn't help but be disturbed by Teri's reaction to him. As if he was some great and terrible person who was working to destroy the rights of women. He didn't seem like a misogynist--indeed, he seemed downright feminist.
But he was a member of the Cadre, which was a misogynist organization, right?
"You said it,"said Kari, Teri's receptionist, who was, I found out, quite cool. She had just graduated from Hamline with a women's studies major, and now she was just hanging out, living in Woodbury, working in Uptown. "I could use a beer."
"I could too, if I could get in anywhere. How's Teri?"
"She's been better. She and Jake are trying to talk about things, but I don't know what's going to come of all that. At least he has some clothes on now."
"Yeah...it's got to be hard for her. I mean, waiting all this time for a guy, then finding out he's working for the enemy."
Kari smiled. "That's why I'm a lesbian. Girls aren't nearly as complex as guys." She arched an eyebrow, and we both chuckled. "Seriously, I don't know what I'd do if a girlfriend pulled the shit D.X. has. Run out for five years, then come back and be working with the bad guys--I tell you, I'd kick her to the fucking curb."
"I know what you're saying," I said. "Sometimes that's what I think I should do to Scott. But the little guys have a way of staying with you." I sighed, and whispered, "Even when they leave."
* * *
Scott Chelgren
I knew the moment the shower started that I was doomed. After all, it's not like I was big enough to survive the torrent of water that was certain to come my way, and I knew that if I tried to grow big enough to survive the flood, I would be spotted for sure, and that would lead to bad, bad things.
So when the drops knocked me from the pubic hair to which I clung, I was unsurprised. As I fell, I cursed myself for my stupidity, and lamented the fact that I would never see Sarah again.
But then a funny thing happened.
I bounced off the foot of the girl, and landed again, sliding down her foot towards her big toe--and a big toe ring. I was saved! I grabbed onto the edge of the metal and held on for dear life. The water didn't hit me badly, and when the torrent finally stopped, I was relatively safe and sound on the big toe of a giant woman--nothing I couldn't handle.
As she begain her slow, majestic stride towards the lockers, I was already planning my next move, but I was sure of one thing: the worst was over.
I was wrong.
* * *
Anonymous
She had turned up the rate of my shrinking, and it was starting to concern me.
Once I reached the parking lot of the mall, my car began to miniaturize even further, to the point where it was now no bigger than a remote-controlled car. She had lost me--I thought--but she had left me in a bad situation. And I was still shrinking.
I drove headlong towards the entrance to the mall. I had to find someone who could help me. But the car continued to shrink. I hopped the curb, and felt a sudden drop. My car was now the size of a matchbox car. Suddenly, from out of nowhere, a huge shoe crashed down in front of me. It was one of those shoes all the teens wear, the ones with the solid white raised sole. Easily eleven feet tall, at my scale. I cringed, as the car went skidding towards the shoe.
I lost consciousness just before the car hit.
* * *
Scott Chelgren
As the woman slid her foot into her sandal, she paused, just for a second, and looked down at her foot. I looked up at her--she was beautiful. And familiar. Strangely familiar.
I tried to place her--uh oh, she'd seen me!
She was reaching down with her right hand for me.
I hoped she was nice.
And then I saw it.
I don't know how I'd missed it before.
About thirty feet up her leg was a tatoo of a black ankh, surrounded by a blue circle. It was huge, billboard sized, and it told me immediately who this was.
It was Mira.
Oh shit.
by D.X. Machina
"The vagina is its own ecosystem, a land of unsung symbiois and tart
vigor."
--Natalie Angier, Woman: An Intimate Geography
Mira Swenson
Minneapolis Downtown YMCA
Minneapolis, Minnesota
At first, I thought it was some kind of bump on my toe--but then I saw it move.
Disgusting, I thought, and I started to reach down to remove what I thought was
some kind of bug or worm or something.
And then I saw how it was moving.
It was a person. A tiny person.
How very, very odd.
I reached down with my right hand and scooped the tiny creature into the
fingernail on my right hand, and I slowly lifted it to my eye.
Well, I said, after looking at it for a good two minutes in stunned silence.
Hello, Scott.
* * *
Anonymous
Rosedale Shopping Center
Roseville, Minnesota
I awoke with a tremendous headache--most likely a concussion, I thought, as I
tried to reconstruct the events that had led me here. The car. Veronica Ceres.
Shrinking.
That shoe--
--Where was I? It was dark, and I was swaying back and forth, slowly.
After a second of trying to reconstruct my mind, I turned on the lights. They
focused on the item directly in front of me, a huge, twenty-four-foot long
cylinder with the
word Tampax emblazoned upon it.
I was in somebodys purse.
I considered my options, and decided to stay put for the moment--no sense
risking
death in the purse of a stranger--at least not yet.
* * *
Veronica Ceres
Westbound, Minnesota State Highway 36
Minneapolis, Minnesota
Well, Id lost Anonymous--probably a tactical error, but Id had fun doing it,
and if
and when he managed to shake my little spell, hed have a more healthy respect
for the
League.
But there was still the matter of D.X. I had to find him--and while I had
enjoyed
toying with Anonymous, I couldnt help thinking that it wouldve been better to
capture
him, and ask him what he knew of D.X. Machinas whereabouts.
I was thinking all of this when my cell phone rang.
Ceres, I answered.
This is Isis. I have a situation, and youre the only person I can think of who
can
help me.
* * *
Teri Rowland
The Home of Teri Rowland
Uptown
Minneapolis, Minnesota
You did the right thing, Isis. I told you youd go far with the League.
I sighed, wondering if I was doing the right thing. Jake had gone to sleep--it
was
apparent that we were not going to get anywhere tonight. He seemed like he was
telling
the truth when he said he wasnt a strong member of the Cadre.
Then again, if he wasnt, he had nothing to fear from the League. And Veronica
was most insistent that I not let Jake get away, for the good of women
everywhere.
So I told her to come on over.
I was pretty sure I wasnt doing the right thing.
* * *
V. Koschkei, Chairman of the Cadre
Anaheim, California
Most disturbing news, gentlemen. We have not had contact from Anonymous in
thirty-six hours. I fear he may have been taken.
By the League, concluded Spielberg.
That is my fear. It is possible that the League is trying to get to D.X.
Machina
before we do. Our sources tell us that Veronica Ceres is in Minneapolis. We know
that
Anonymous was headed there.
But what can the League do with D.X. Machina? Surely youre not suggesting
that hed actually change sides?
I drummed my fingers on the table. No, no, I dont think he would. But the fact
that the League is after him is disturbing.
We need our best men on the case. Ive dispatched some operatives to the Twin
Cities.
He will betray us, said Szalinsky.
I pray not, said I.
* * *
Scott Chelgren
The Apartment of Mira Swenson
Summit Hill Neighborhood
Saint Paul, Minnesota
Mira, I said, plaintively, for Gods sake, what do you think youre doing?
WELL, SCOTT, ITS BEEN, WHAT, NINE MONTHS? YOU LOOK LIKE
YOUVE LOST SOME WEIGHT.
It was delivered with the adorable/infuriating smirk that shed worn all the
time
wed dated. Ha, ha. I could reverse that statement.
Now, the mock consternation. OH, I DONT KNOW AS THAT WOULD BE
SUCH A GOOD IDEA, BUB. AFTER ALL, I COULD GET MAD AND THEN,
WHAM! YOURE NOT ALL THAT BIG A DEAL ANYMORE.
You know, its funny, Mira.
WHAT?
Even given the extraordinary circumstances of our latest meeting, you and I
have
pretty much just picked up right where we left off.
WHAT, WITH YOU FUCKING MY BEST FRIEND?
Ouch. Well, I deserved that, I guess. I looked up at Mira with appreciation for
her beauty, at least. She was half-White, half-Vietnamese, with perfect,
porcelain skin and
piercing black eyes and enough attitude for eight or nine women. In the
strictest, most
traditional sense of the world, she was almost as stunning as Sarah. (Maybe--on
the right
day--a little bit more)
She was beautiful, and I did still have some feelings for her.
But Id made that decision long before I met Sarah. No, I continued, with us
trading sardonic banter disguised as affection.
YOU USED TO SAY IT WAS AFFECTION DISGUISED AS SARDONIC
BANTER.
Whatever. Look, can we try to keep this civil?
SCOTT, I THINK YOURE MISSING A HUGE PART OF THE EQUATION
HERE. HOW TALL ARE YOU?
Half an inch.
RIIIIIGHT. AND THAT MAKES YOU....
Small?
UTTERLY HELPLESS. SO YOU WONT MIND IF I DONT TRIP OVER
MYSELF TO HELP YOU, LITTLE GUY. YOU HAVENT EXACTLY PROVEN
WORTHY OF MY AFFECTION, BUT FOR SOME UNKNOWN REASON, I STILL
HAVENT GOTTEN OVER YOU CHEATING ON ME--AND RIGHT AFTER YOUR
MOMS FUNERAL, FOR GODS SAKE.
I was beginning to remember just how happy I was to find myself without Miras
company.
SO, SCOTT, HERE ARE THE GROUND RULES. I WILL BE KEEPING
YOU IN THIS HERE TUPPERWARE CONTAINER. I WILL FEED YOU--OR
NOT--AS I FEEL LIKE. MAYBE, IF YOURE REALLY NICE, I MIGHT--AND I
EMPHASIZE MIGHT--ASK YOU HOW I CAN HELP. BUT THATS AFTER A FEW
WEEKS OF SERVICE TO ME, MISTER.
What kind of service are you talking about?
WELL SEE, she said, and a smile Id never seen before crossed her marvelous
face.
It wasnt a pretty smile.
* * *
D.X. Machina
The Home of Teri Rowland
Uptown
Minneapolis, Minnesota
This was just not my day. Not only had I been outed as D.X. Machina, but now
Teri thought I was some sort of phallocentric idiot who was threatened by the
existence of
womens basketball.
And all because of Ronnie Ceres. Damn her, she couldnt leave well enough alone,
could she? She couldnt share GTS with Teri and be done with it, she had to
indoctrinate
her too.
So thats it then. One of the two women Ive loved in my life is dead, the other
now hates me. Swell.
I was sitting on the bed, contemplating sleep, when I heard a knock at the door.
Come in, I said.
As the door opened, I saw her face. I probably should have been surprised to see
her. Instead, I rose to defend myself. Get the Hell out of here, Ceres. Youve
screwed
things up enough.
Now, D.X., is that any way to greet a lady? Or are you going by Jake now?
I tried hard to check my anger at this contemptible woman. Veronica Ceres had
stood foursquare on the side of darkness and evil and pain in Madison. If she
would have
helped Liz, instead of using her....
But she hadnt, and I knew just what kind of monster stood before me. You are
not worthy to call me either, Ronny.
Come on, Jacob, not still mad about Madison, are we? That was over half a
decade ago. And if you hadnt interfered, The Coed would still be alive now,
wouldnt
she?
That was that. God Damn You! I cried, and with all my power, I struck.
* * *
Veronica Ceres
The Home of Teri Rowland
Uptown
Minneapolis, Minnesota
I wasnt prepared for the blow. I should have been, but I had so enjoyed
taunting
D.X. that I had completely forgotten that he was as adept in the ways of GTS as
any
woman alive.
So when I shrunk to two feet high despite my best attempt at a parry, I
immediately knew Id miscalculated.
So I did what I could.
I struck back.
Here you are, Dix--right back at you, I said, melodramatically. (Coming up
with
witty repartee is always the most difficult part.)
The shock sent him staggering backwards as he began to grow younger. He
wasnt expecting the AR spell, and it showed. He was all the way down to six
when he
righted himself, and began the aging process again.
Im going to have to go through puberty again, you bitch. And I hated puberty,
said D.X. He slowly raised his right hand, and said, Ronnie? Ive been dreaming
about
this for five years. Enjoy!
* * *
Scott Chelgren
I waited for Mira to turn in for the night, and then quickly grew myself to a
full six
inches. I was getting the heck out of here.
She hadnt pushed the lid down tightly--sweet of her, really, not trying to
suffocate
me. So I pushed the lid off, and pulled myself over the lip of the Tupperware
container.
I was standing on her kitchen table. Considering my options, I decided that I
would be best served by trying to jump onto a chair and climb down from there.
Knowing what I knew about the physics of shrinking, I reduced my height back
down to three inches. Id take less damage at this height, I hoped. With a sigh
and a
prayer, I leapt.
As I fell, I heard a key in the door.
* * *
D.X. Machina
The woman was unaware of me, which was probably for the best, as I think had
she found me in her navel while her boyfriend was going down on her that she
wouldnt
have been happy.
As it was, I struggled to hold my ground as the woman bucked and writhed in the
midst of her orgasm.
Concentrating, I pulled myself out of that situation, back into Teris home.
Nice
one, Ronnie. Ive got somewhere that we can go.
And with that, I pulled us both into the Chi Omega sorority house in Des Moines,
Iowa, onto the bedspread of a coed named Missy.
I guess I know where your mind is, said Ceres, as she struggled to overcome
the
situation.
Id mind Missy--shes coming over to sit down, I said, as the young woman
descended towards Ronnie.
* * *
Veronica Ceres
I tucked and rolled, just as the womans behind struck the bed. But I had not
gone
out far enough, and I found myself sliding into the chasm that had been created
by her
weight. I was about to fall in under her ass, when I finally was able to
overcome D.X.s
spell, and counter with one of my own.
Touché, said D.X., as we materialized in the armpit hair of a recumbent womyn
(with a y). I dont think shes bathed in a good two days.
Suddenly, the womyn began to awake, and she folded her arm downward. This is
where I get off, he said, with a flourish, and suddenly, I found myself alone.
* * *
Anonymous
As time wound its way slowly by, I found myself drifting off to sleep. After
all,
theres little to do when one is buckled into a matchbox-sized car in the purse
of...someone.
So it came as quite a shock when I felt the car I was in begin to lift.
Apparently, I
was about to meet someone.
She turned the car about in her fingers, and I got a good look at my captress.
She
was young, middle to late teens, blonde hair, blue eyes, nice figure. I was
fortunate that
she did not see me--the tinting on my windows was nearly opaque from outside,
and that
fortunately kept her from spying the tiny man inside the matchbox car she held.
After a moment, she set the car and me roughly on the countertop of what
appeared to be a kitchen, and walked out of the room. I heard her calling in a
monstrously
loud voice, but I did not know to whom.
I found out to whom shortly, when a girl, perhaps five or six years old, wearing
pyjamas and blonde pigtails, came running into the room and snatched the car
roughly off
the countertop. COOL! she said, nearly splitting my eardrums.
I could tell right away that this was becoming a bad situation.
* * *
Veronica Ceres
I was somewhere dark, damp, and smelly. Suddenly, light poured in and the
ground tilted. I was thrown forward, deep into the cave, when suddenly, a huge
object
entered, moving towards me....
It was a foot. I dove forward, into the toe of what was obviously a shoe, and
was
crushed into the front by the middle toe of the woman. With all of my strength,
I pulled
myself up onto the top of the foot, feeling the toes shift and slide with my
every move.
D.X. had outdone himself, but I was far from done myself. I reached out, grabbed
him, and yanked us both into another situation.
* * *
D.X. Machina
I had no time to get my bearings before a noxious wind pushed me back into a
hard cloth wall.
Well, I guess Id pissed Ronnie off.
Suddenly, the pants fell, and I was unsurprised to see Ronnie herself reach down
and grab me.
WELL WELL, D.X., ENJOYING YOURSELF?
Not so much, Ronnie, not so much.
OH, COME NOW. DONT TELL ME YOU CANT OBJECTIFY LITTLE OL
ME!
I had to admit, she was attractive. Almost playful. Maybe she wasnt so evil.
But then again....
I had been holding back thus far. No more.
I pulled us into the next reality.
* * *
Veronica Ceres
The world shimmered, and I was suddenly standing on a city street. A
giantess--she
looked like The Coed--was trampling the city.
Her vast foot slammed down on what seemed to be a museum near me. The
people screamed as she leaned down, immense teeth grinning, dripping with the
blood of
the people shed eaten. She raised her blood-splattered foot again, to kick a
building next
door.
Illusions, D.X.? Come on, Teri could do this.
Not an illusion. A psychosis, said the thirteen-year-old standing behind me.
The
foot trampled a car, a city bus, and thirty-eight citizens half a block away.
You get to
watch L--The Coed--tear up this city--and you, for good measure. And meanwhile,
in the
real world, you go insane. You cant get out of it, either. Nope, here on Earth,
you get
committed, while you watch her destroy things again...and again...and again.
The foot swept back and forth, pummeling the buildings around me.
A conundrum, I said, quietly. Very effective. Ive got to hand it to you, D.X.,
your powers are greater than even mine.
Veronica, he said, quietly, You are responsible for the greatest tragedies of
my
life. I should leave you here to live out your days. But I know that your
comrades would
come for you. They might even find a way to liberate your mind after a few
years. He
sighed, as if gathering all his strength to say the next sentence.
Meanwhile, the big toe of the giantess was quickly drawing a line towards us,
tearing the street with reckless abandon.
I dont need to beat you, Ms. Ceres. I dont even want to, anymore. I will let
you go, on one condition, he said, as the giantess lifted her foot and began
swinging it in
a long, lazy, lethal arc towards us.
I said, simply, Im listening.
* * *
Anonymous
The little girl drifted off to sleep, and I made my move. Opening the door of
the
car, I crept towards the door of her room.
I still couldnt shake the spell Veronica had put on me. I feared I would have
to
find D.X. in my present state, which vexed me rather. After all, at my height,
the Twin
Cities were quite large.
I slipped under the door and out into the hallway, when I spied her. The young
woman who had grabbed my car and carried me here. She was immense--not
surprising,
but she was immensely beautiful at this scale. I could see why some men would
give in to
liking GTS, why D.X. found so many takers for his wares.
I decided to follow this young lady around. Perhaps, with luck, she would turn
out
to be the kind of person I could do business with.
* * *
Veronica Ceres
Thats it?
Thats it.
I paused to consider D.X.s conditions. Not that I had much of a choice--he had
me caught, and good. But given how much leverage he currently enjoyed, I was
surprised
that he had asked for so little.
The giantess foot was rising to snuff us out.
I tell Teri that youre not pure evil, and I tell the League to leave you
alone, and
thats all I have to do?
Well...its all you have to do. Theres something I want you to do.
Whats that?
He closed his eyes, and said, Ronnie, I know you have good within you.
Renounce the League and their misandrous beliefs. Join with me, Ronnie, and help
me
beat both the League and the Cadre.
The foot was falling, but slowly.
I was surprised by his request. Stunned, really. He knew me, knew my loyalties.
Knew that I would fight for the superiority of women until the day I--
I will...consider it, D.X.
The foot stopped, six feet over our heads.
That is all I can ask. You are free.
And abruptly we came back into reality. Teri had burst into the room, and was
looking at us both, with deep anxiety.
What the Hell is going on? Jake--why do you have hair?
A long story, said D.X., Veronica and I had some unfinished business. But
thats all over, now.
Teri seemed ready to ask something, but I interceded.
Im sorry, Teri, I said. I shouldnt have told you D.X. was evil. He is not.
In
fact...he may be the only member of the Cadre I have any respect for.
What are you saying?
Im leaving, Isis. You can...you can trust D.X. Hes not on our side, but he
isnt
against us.
But I knew in my heart that he was with us, in the most important way.
In all the scenarios hed taken me to, there had not been one giant. All had
been
Giantesses.
At heart, D.X. was a part of the League.
* * *
Scott Chelgren
I hit the deck of the chair as the door opened. Mira never told me she had a
roommate, and I hadnt even considered the possibility, but it was apparent that
she did, as
a raven-haired woman came into the room and headed for the table.
It took me just a second to place her, and just a second more to drop down to
half
an inch tall and pray that she didnt recognize me.
It was Ginny.
Miras best friend.
Without so much as a how-do-you-do, she walked over to the chair I cowered on,
and began to sit down.
My mind was aready racing, so I wasnt braced for the sudden movement. I found
myself flat on my back in the middle of the chair, watching Ginny Sniders
perfect ass
slowly descend on me.
This was the end.
by D.X. Machina
"I've never been so alone, and I've never been so alive."
--Third Eye Blind
Sarah Kensington
Interstate 94 Eastbound
Minneapolis, Minnesota
Neither Kelly nor I talked a lot on the ride home. Well, it had been a pretty busy day, and we were both ready for bed. Tomorrow was Saturday, and I was planning on studying (my weekends are very exciting, you know).
All in all, it had been a pretty dispiriting night, and as we pulled into the parking lot at Middlebrook, I was looking forward to take a shower and hitting the sack, and sorting out my life.
We reached our floor, and stepped out of the elevators, only to run smack dab into a slightly drunk Kyle. Hey...Sar! Kell! Jordans got some Vodka, and I got some beers--whyncha come on over? Im just goin to pick up the pizza.
I considered, and decided that really, more even then sleep, I needed a drink.
Well be over in five minutes, I said.
* * *
D.X. Machina
The Home of Teri Rowland
Uptown
Minneapolis, Minnesota
My dreams were filled with her. They were always filled with her. Sometimes I was full-sized, like I was the first time I saw her--she, a Titian-haired beauty with forest green eyes and a permanent frown. Sometimes she was standing over me, ready to execute my for a crime I had never committed.
Tonight, I was sitting on her desk, and she was enjoying a moment of lucidity. Little One, youve found your other love, havent you?
Liz, you know youre my first, my only love.
She shook her head, sweetly, and said, Youre wrong on both counts, Little One. Teri was your first, and Im one of two.
But Liz--
No buts, Jake. Its been six years. You have to let me go.
Her eyes were full of tears as she said it. Jake, I love you--I always loved you when I was sane. But I wasnt sane often, and Im not around any more. Theres no way we could be together forever. Youve got to move on.
Liz--
But she was getting up from the desk, her beautiful, pale skin luminescent. She was leaving.
* * *
Anonymous
Somewhere in Minnesota
The young woman was dozing off. I tried to get a read on her age: Nineteen? Twenty? Maybe a little older? Damn it, its hard to tell when youre less than an inch tall, looking in the dark of night from a nightstand three hundred feet away.
I was starting to get a sense of her, though. She wasnt the older sister I had thought; she was a mother. At least, that was how it seemed. So much the better. A mother would have some responsiblility, some intelligence; I could count on no such thing from a random fifteen year old.
Suddenly, I head a noise. The door swung open, and the little girl walked in. MOMMY, she cried, proving my hypothesis, I NEED A GLASS OF WATER.
The woman stirred, OKAY, BRITT, JUST A SECOND. She reached right towards me, her hand sweeping over the surface of the nightstand, searching for something. Abruptly, it changed direction, heading right towards me. I was tossed buy the advancing gust of wind into the air, landing suddenly on a hard, glassy surface. I realized immediately what it was--a pair of glasses.
The woman grabbed them and lifted them into the air. I watched in horror as the ground beneath me moved away, distorted and disjointed through the lenses. Then the ground began to tilt as the young woman placed the spectacles on her face. I dropped onto her cheek, and began to slide. I clawed at the air in a futile effort to gain some kind of hold, but I was skidding quickly.
Then, without warning, her fingers swept unconsciously across her cheek, pushing me all the way to the edge of her hair. I held on for my life as she rose and began to walk
I had some appreciation for D.X.--he had survived for months in this state. I was but a few hours into it, and already I feared I would soon be doomed.
I held onto her short, dirty blonde hair as we walked into the kitchen. She pulled two glasses out, and walked over to the freezer to pick up an ice tray. I was struggling; I was not used to this, and her hair was oily with the residue of a days wear and tear. As she leaned over the glasses, dropping ice into them, I lost my grip, and fell.
I fell a long, long way, landing on the hard, cold ice below. I winced with the impact; tiny people dont get as easily damaged as they would at full size, but theyre not invincible; I hurt all over. And worst of all, I knew what was coming.
The glass was lifted roughly, and the water cascaded down around me. I was fortunate--she stopped just below the level of the ice cube I rested on; the water below me frothed and churned, but it was below me; had I been trapped beneath the surface tension, I never would have broken free.
She lifed the glass roughly, again, and suddenly, I was dropping; she was handing me off to her daughter.
* * *
Veronica Ceres
Airport Hilton
Bloomington, Minnesota
I stared out the window, trying to make sense of the evening. It seemed surreal; D.X. had me where he wanted me, he had his chance for revenge. Why didnt he strike?
He couldnt seriously think Id help him, could he? I mean, wed fought about as bitterly as any two people in history. Why did he think Id come over to his side?
What the Hell was his side, anyway?
Wait--he fought against everyone. Well, how fun. Can I join? I dont have nearly enough strife in my life.
I sighed, and looked at my reflection. Is this what old radicals look like? The permanent frown lines, the dead eyes, the graying hair? Im not even forty yet--but I look it. I sighed.
I was getting tired of it all; tired of fighting, tired of battling, tired of having to be right all the time.
But--the Cadre would never surrender. And until they did--
I couldnt leave the League. Not yet.
Not until I was sure D.X. could prevail.
* * *
Teri Rowland
The Apartment of Teri Rowland
Uptown
Minneapolis
He came out into the living room, where the remains of the dollhouse still sat, in dust and disarray. We stood there a while, just looking at each other, neither of us sure what to say. It had been but a day before that I had held him in the palm of my hand. I had ultimate control of him, he was mine, forever.
I thought so, anyhow.
But here he was, an even six feet, a slightly receding hairline, those deep grey eyes that always looked right through me, into my soul.
Wed known each other since ancient times. Our souls were bound together.
So why didnt I see this coming?
After an eternity, he said, very slowly, Teri...I love you.
I started to reply, a reply somewhere between angry and exhausted and sorrowful, but he stopped me.
And because I love you, I have to tell you the story of why I left, and why I became the man I am today. Its long, and its not so nice in spots, and only one living person knows all of it. Hear me out, and if you want me to leave when Im done, just let me know.
And he began to tell me the story of his other love, his live, his Liz. Her beauty and her power and her madness. And he was right: it was not a nice story, and it didnt have a happy ending.
And I was wrong: he didnt owe me the explanation. But by the end of the story, when he began to cry, I walked over to his chair and I wrapped my arms around him and let him cry, deep, deep into the night.
* * *
Anonymous
The journey to the little girls room was unsettling, at best. The ice cube pitched hard in the cold, dark water, clutched unsteadily in the two hands of a young girl. I have a strong constitution, but I was grateful when we stopped moving; I was beginning to get a little seasick.
I do not know why, but it had not dawned on me that the little girl would actually drink the water. I was in such shock that any sort of forethought had escaped me. As the glass titled up, I realized that this lack of consideration was a very bad thing, indeed.
I saw the girls lips approaching rapidly; I tried to cling to the ice cube, but it was beginning to melt, and it was too slick to provide any sort of handhold. I thought myself doomed, until I realized that I was forgetting my physics; the surface tension of the water would provide me a springboard.
It was risky, but I pulled it off nicely, if I do say so myself. As the water began to spill over the edge of the rim, I leapt with all of my strength, landing on the upper lip of the girl. I thought myself safe, until a huge tidal wave struck me, knocking me from my perch and into the dark.
I fell for a time, until I landed in a huge forest of fibers. At first, I thought I had landed in the carpet, until I felt the ground moving. I held on for dear life as I saw the world reorient and invert. I was suspended upside down as I saw the little girl rapidly approaching.
I realized where I was as I was smushed between her chest and her stuffed lion. The pressure was strong, but so was the beat of her heart behind me. I sighed; it was as good a place as any to sleep; tomorrow, I would try to find my way back to her mother.
* * *
Scott Chelgren
The Apartment of Ginny Snider and Mira Swenson
Minneapolis
They say that before you die, your whole life flashes before your eyes. Its not exactly true; only part of your life does. Just the relevant parts of your life do. Like the time I was two, and my mom tried to tell me that my dad could never come home again; walking through the Sculpture Garden with Mira on a perfect summer evening, holding her hand and thinking I could see forever into the future; watching the cancer eat mom up from the inside while I sat by, helpless to do anything; having one too many drinks with Ginny, and waking up beside her, confused and ashamed; standing in stark terror on the floor of a restroom at Apple Valley High School, as a beautiful, gigantic girl stared down at me in disbelief; standing in terror on the floor of First Ave as that beautiful, gigantic girl slowly walked away.
And then, just as the fabric of Ginnys skirt was nearly touching me, a miracle happened.
Ginny broke wind.
The sudden blast took me and propelled me out away from the chair. I tumbled end over end, suddenly dropping into the waste basket.
I blinked a few times. I was alive! And whats more, Ginny hadnt seen me!
I laughed for a while, not even caring about the waste around me, and when I began to notice it, I laughed more; I hadnt eaten in two days.
I didnt know how I was getting out of this apartment, but for the moment, I didnt care; I was as free as Id been.
* * *
Sarah Kensington
I awoke slowly, my head pounding. What the Hell had happened last night? Oh yeah, drinking 151 in Jordan and Kyles room, eating bad Dominos pizza. Jordan went off to find his girlfriend, Amber, and then Kelly left, and Kyle and I....
Oh fuck.
I closed my eyes, and reached to my right, hoping against hope that I wouldnt find what I knew Id find.
Kyle, asleep, naked.
Not an unpleasant sight, mind you.
Just an unbelievable complication.
There may be some things better than sex, and some things worse than sex. But there is nothing exactly like it.
KellyAnn Johnson
Middlebrook Hall
West Bank, University of Minnesota
I awoke with my head pounding, and the room spinning, and everything generally messed up.
I never should've gone over to see those guys, but Sarah needed to have a few, after the day we'd had.
What kind of a day had we had again?
Oh yeah...going to Uptown, meeting the psychic, meeting a guy who had been shrunk but wasn't anymore....
Hey, that little guy Lor and I found is okay! D.X. says so!
Who's D.X.? Oh yeah, the guy who was shrunk and now isn't. I hope he and Teri patch things up. He seems like a nice guy.
I need a nap.
My reverie was broken by the door swinging inward violently, and a very agitated Sarah bursting into the room.
Odd that Sarah should be bursting into our room. Where was she? Last I'd seen her she was making whiskey sours by pouring one part whiskey and one part sour into people's mouths.
"Kelly, Kelly, are you up? I need you to be up. I fucked up bad, Kelly.
"Sar....it can't be that bad."
"Trust me, it's that bad," she said.
"Oh, come now. It's not like you fucked Kyle or something.
She was quiet for enough time that my eyes snapped open. "You fucked Kyle?" I whispered.
She nodded, dumbly.
"Well you used protection, right?"
She started to tear up.
"Oh. Oh my God. Okay, yeah, I'm getting up Sarah. I'm getting up."
* * *
Scott Chelgren
The Apartment of Ginny Snider and Mira Swenson
Minneapolis
Morning came.
For the first time in two days, I was full. But in the cold light of morning, I realized my situation was still not good. I would have to be careful to leave when neither Mira nor Ginny was around.
I couldn't trust either of them. Mira was obviously unhappy with me--deservedly so, up to a point--and Ginny....
Ginny might help me. She really might. Her heart was good. But despite her infidelity with me, she cared deeply for her friends. And Mira was her best friend. That she was still her best friend despite our actions was a testament to their friendship.
And for that reason, I couldn't trust her. I would have to escape this apartment, and find some other way--even a random stranger would offer more help than these two.
Mira wandered out into the kitchen, dressed in a short silk robe, the kind that she'd worn when we'd dated. It was a faux-oriental style; it accentuated her asian half.
She looked as hot as any woman alive when she wore it.
"WELL WELL, SCOTT. TIME TO RISE AND SHINE....FUCK!"
She'd obviously noticed that I was gone.
"SCOTTY, YOU'VE OBVIOUSLY DECIDED TO RUN AWAY. THAT'S NOT VERY NICE. BUT I'LL TELL YOU WHAT. YOU COME BACK TO ME RIGHT NOW AND WE'LL FORGET THIS EVER HAPPENED.
"BUT IF I HAVE TO FIND YOU...YOU'D PROBABLY RATHER BE DEAD RIGHT NOW."
I took her at her word. As she began tearing the kitchen apart, I hunkered down.
I wasn't expecting to have the trash can knocked over.
* * *
Anonymous
Somewhere in Minnesota
Happily, the girl had discarded her stuffed beast in the middle of the night. I awoke on the floor of a five-year-old girl's room, and I endeavoured to escape quickly.
I left the room, and tried again to undo the hex Veronica had cast on me. And I had marginal success; I shot up to almost four inches in height. More manageable, I thought. I tried for more, but to no avail.
I walked a bit further, before I realized that there had been an advantage to my previous size. Stealth.
I realized this as the giant girl exited her room, and emitted a high-pitched shriek of delight.
"NEAT!" she said, as she grasped me clumsily.
This was not going the way one would hope.
* * *
Teri Rowland
The Home of Teri Rowland
Uptown
Minneapolis, Minnesota
I felt a tiny sensation at my left hip. Like a nibbling gnat or the brush of exactly one strand of hair. Ever so carefully, I lifted myself up and looked down.
It was Jake, down to four inches tall, caressing me softly.
"You didn't need to do that," I said.
"I know," he replied, smiling. "It seemed the thing to do, though."
I reached down and plucked him, and drew my hand up to my face. "You know, Jake, I don't mind us being at our normal sizes."
"Neither do I," he said, beaming. "But I like this too. I didn't get into this business for the hours, Teri. I got into it because I enjoy GTS, I love what it can do, how it can rearrange the way we look at things. That's the beauty of it; that one person can surrender to another completely, and yet maintain their individuality.
"I like this perspective. It helps me get my bearings. And it shows me anew how beautiful you are."
I resisted the urge to kiss him; at his size my morning breath probably could've killed him. Instead, I smiled, and said, "If you don't grow to full size, how are we going to get breakfast at Mickey's?"
"We're driving all the way to Saint Paul?" he asked.
"Not if we don't get going soon."
"All right, set me down. Breakfast and a good woman. I don't know how my life could get better." He smiled at me, and as he grew, I saw in him the man I loved.
* * *
Sarah Kensington
The Uptowner
Grand Avenue
Saint Paul, Minnesota
I picked at my cajun eggs, and tried to pull myself together.
In the past four hours, I had come to a few conclusions. First, Kelly was definitely the best friend I could have. She had been almost perfect in dealing with me, getting me to the clinic, getting me to get a morning after pill, lecturing me--deservedly--on how I was lucky this was Kyle and not some maniac, and asking the right questions--did he force you? Did he coerce you?
No. It had been my idea. And she asked me the other question I needed to hear:
"So do you love Kyle?"
This led to my second conclusion: no, I did not love Kyle. If I loved Kyle, I wouldn't have come running into my room at 6:45 in the morning, acting as if I'd just murdered my grandma. Kyle was nice, and sweet in his own way, but I only loved one person.
We ate in silence, mostly. Kelly had dragged me here because, as she said, "You should get away from the college atmoshpere of the U and go to the college atmosphere of St. Thomas, St. Kate's, and William Mitchell College of Law. Besides, the cajun eggs are to die for."
She was daffy. I appreciated it.
"So you love Scott then." It wasn't a question, but a statement.
"Yeah, I do. Damn him."
"So...what are you going to tell Kyle?"
I paused. "Probably the standard boilerplate. It's not you, it's me, let's be friends, just casual sex, blah blah blah. Think he'll buy it?"
She smiled. "He's a guy, he got you into bed. He'll be fine in the end. Just make sure to complement him on his prowess. He'll thank you for breaking it off."
"I could mention marriage...and make him break it off with me."
She grinned. "But Kyle might take you up on that...and we don't want that. Now the other big question: are you going to tell Scott?"
I thought for half a second. "No. He's been in some odd places himself. Some were his fault, some were not so much his fault, but he's had a wide and varied existence since he became small. I don't think he needs to know this."
"Good," she said. "It'd only make him paranoid. Eat those eggs! You're going to need your strength."
"Why?" I asked.
"Because we're going back to Madame Theresa's today, and we're going to figure out where the heck Scott is, and then we're going to find him. Because I don't think I can stand another day of you moping around, and I certainly can't be getting you morning after pills every time you and I get drunk. Now, if you're done, I'm going to take 47 Tylenol, and we're off."
I really like Kelly.
I think she'll be my Maid of Honor--if there ever is a wedding.
* * *
Scott Chelgren
Things couldn't get much worse.
When Mira knocked the trash can over, I came flying out--all two inches of me, the height I had inexplicably chosen at that moment.
More than big enough for Mira to notice immediately.
"OH, SCOTT. NOW YOU'RE BIGGER. SO YOU CAN CHANGE SIZE, EH? DIDN'T MENTION THAT YESTERDAY. NOW WHY IS THAT?"
"Mira...for God's sake, if you weren't saying ominous things like 'you need to serve me,' maybe I'd be a bit more trusting. As it is, I don't quite trust you."
She grinned, menacingly. "I WOULDN'T TRUST ME IF I WERE YOU. WE'VE GOT A LOT OF CATCHING UP TO DO. TELL ME, CAN YOU SHRINK DOWN TO ABOUT AN INCH TALL?"
"Why?"
"BECAUSE IF YOU CAN, AND YOU DON'T IN THREE SECONDS, I'LL BRING MY HAND DOWN HARD ON THIS TABLE AND GOD HELP YOU IF IT LANDS ON YOU. ONE, TWO...."
This wasn't like her. But I wasn't going to argue with a woman who could bring thousands of tons of force to bear on me. I was one inch tall.
"GOOD. NOW...I'VE ALREADY SHOWERED, AND I WAS JUST ABOUT TO GET DRESSED. AND I WAS THINKING...I HAVEN'T FELT YOU INSIDE ME FOR A LONG TIME SCOTT. A LONG TIME. SO...HERE YOU ARE.
She picked me up roughly, and inserted me with a quick thrust between her labia. Once I was inside, she gave me a squeeze that caused me to wince. I'd been in this spot before, and it was fraught with peril.
"NOW...THAT FEELS GOOOOOD...." she said. "I'M GOING TO ENJOY MYSELF TODAY. AND TONIGHT. OH YES! THAT'S THE PURPOSE OF OUR VISIT, SCOTT. I'VE GOT MY THIRD DATE WITH A REALLY GOOD GUY. AND YOU--YOU GET TO COME ALONG FOR THE RIDE, AND SEE JUST HOW HOT HE MAKES ME, UP CLOSE AND PERSONAL."
As she pulled on her panties, I knew that this day was going to suck.
* * *
Anonymous
This day, as the youngsters say, was starting to suck.
I was in the girl's dollhouse, which was closed at the moment. She had immediately realized that I was exactly the right scale, so she made me the dolly daddy, and gave me a disconcertingly life-sized dolly mommy and three adorable dolly kids, and played with me for a good two hours before her mom woke up.
I hoped for a moment she would notice me, but she only said, "BRITTANY--PUT YOUR TOYS AWAY AND COME EAT YOUR BREAKFAST."
And so she had put me away, and angled the dollhouse so the front door was against the wall and the walls were shut tight. I would have to work on the windows, I thought, dispiritedly. I would not remain a girl's toy.
Brave words from a small man.
* * *
D.X. Machina
Mickey's Diner
Saint Paul, Minnesota
Mickey's is the kind of restaurant every city should have. It's a dining car in the middle of downtown St. Paul, an oasis of cholesterol in a fat-free world.
It's one of the best restaurants ever.
I sat and talked to Teri, enjoying myself immensely, when a man approached.
He looked a lot like me, with a clean-shaved head and a red goatee, and the three hundred pounds I had once carried. He could be my brother.
"D.X.?" he said. I started.
"Yes," I replied, unwillingly. I didn't want to say anything, but somehow, I had to tell this man whatever he wanted to know.
It frightened me.
"I won't take long," he said. "I'm not supposed to be here--not in this universe, anyhow."
Ah. A world-shifter. Like Szalinsky. We had met a bunch of them, people from parallel worlds. He must be one of them.
"No, I'm not a world-shifter. Not exactly. I'm an author, D.X. In fact, I'm the author."
I looked at him, and instinctively knew he was telling the truth.
He was the author of this universe. Each writer creates a world, with its own laws and rules. Each writer is God of that world, in a way, though each writer must be true to his or her own Gods.
This man was God of my world.
"No, not God. Not ever of that league. She's the Great Author, D.X., and I've never met her, and I'm not likely ever to meet her. But I'm not here to discuss theology or Heinleinian multiperson solipsism. I'm here to warn you of something. I wasn't going to, but then I realized that it wasn't fair to spring this on you."
I looked at him, and said quietly, "What?"
"The League and the Cadre are heading towards a final confrontation. And you, D.X., have to prevent it. You're going to need help. This young Mr. Chelgren will be of use to you, as will Sarah Kensington and Teri Rowland--hi Teri."
"Hi there, sir," she said, quietly.
"And there will be others you'll need, too. Jake, I can't repay you for Liz, but I can give you this warning: you must do the right thing, or the people you care for will die. The stakes are high. I know you won't disappoint me." With that, he turned and walked towards the door.
"Wait!" I cried, standing. He turned, smiling.
"I can't tell you my real name, D.X., but I write using your name. And that's why I showed up here in person, because what better means of working Deus ex machina into a story than by putting God into the machine?"
With that, he suddenly vanished, and I stood, silent.
"Jake," said Teri, quietly, "I think it's time for us to get going."
"Yes," I said, "I think you're right." I went for the check, only to see that it was already paid, with a note:
You are so fucking lucky. In my world, there's no shrinking. The physical laws prevent it. So revel in it, man! I love my fiancee, but I'll never see her from the perspecives I wish I could. Good luck.
All my love my son,
J
I looked at that letter for a long time before I picked up my coat and started towards the door.
* * *
Veronica Ceres
League Headquarters
New York City, New York
I was being made to wait.
I hated being made to wait. I was Vice President of the League, second in command of the entire shebang. And Leah Jackson was making me wait.
I was being punished; it was the only explanation.
Finally, the doors opened and Leah herself breezed out. "So sorry, dear, paperwork and all. You know how it is. By the way, have you fully documented your failure yet?
I winced. "I wouldn't class it as a failure. He doesn't want anything to do with the Cadre, and he's dating a low-level operative in the League. I think he'll come over eventually. But for the moment, it's probably best to let things develop. Give him some space, make the Cadre flush him out."
"Oh, Ronnie, if only that were possible. But time is of the essence. You see, there are a few of us who have decided that it may be time to consider a third way. Come with me."
I paused, before following her through a door in the back of her office.
I was surprised--a little--to see that it led to a room the size of four football fields. Obviously a little GTS tech at work here. There were six huge glass boxes, that upon closer inspection contained models of landscapes. And each one had numbers on the side: 12:1, 24:1, 72:1, 144:1, 288:1, and 576:1.
Closer inspection revealed that they weren't models.
These places were alive.
"Project Saturn. The ultimate fall-back plan," said Leah. "If we can't convince society to accept titanesses, maybe we can create societies that will."
"But how does this help us?" I asked.
"Well, that is a good question," she said in a sing-song voice. "If things don't go our way over, say, the next six months, then we create a temporal displacement, that wipes out every unprotected human. And we replace them with these people, four hundred years in the past, bred to believe that giantesses should walk among them. Ultimately, victory will be ours."
"What of causality?" I asked.
"Ronnie...big picture. Don't you want to be a Goddess?"
I walked up to the nearest model, the 288:1 one, where the people were 1/4 inch tall. I could see tiny figures gather, and run away from me.
I didn't want to be a Goddess. Not like this.
I looked at Leah, who was smiling, broadly.
"Victory will be ours," she said.
I forced a smile, and while I repeated her phrase, I made a mental note to get in touch with D.X.--immediately.
"Certainly the game is rigged. Don't let that stop you; if you don't bet, you can't win."
D.X. Machina
Just East of Cedar Avenue
Minneapolis, Minnesota
Teri's Taurus maneuvered the I-94 strip just south of the U of M. The Vikings were playing today, and last-minute stragglers were heading to the Dome to watch Brad Johnson, Jake Reed and Cris Carter--and pray that Robert Smith could make it through the season without injury.
The tape player played a song by Son Volt.
May the wind take your troubles away....
I looked out the window and thought hard. Somehow, I always expected that if I was sent on a holy quest, it would be with fanfare and pomp and circumstance--not with eggs, bacon, and toast. But the Lord works in mysterious and capricious ways--and besides, he probably wanted to have some of the Potatoes O'Brien--they are heavenly.
It shook me, though.
When God feels the need to get involved, it can't signal good things.
* * *
Scott Chelgren
Inside Mira Swenson
Somewhere in Minnesota
I think I was fortunate; Mira wasn't having her period.
Other than that, it was about as unpleasant a time as one could have inside a woman.
Well, maybe not the most unpleasant--I'd barely lived through that. Mira didn't seem intent on crushing me, and as far as I could tell, she was just going about her daily business. Shopping, eating, occasionally giving me a firm, no-nonsense squeeze. Twice, removing me from her to simultaneously taunt me and pee.
All pretty prosaic, all in all.
The most disconcerting thing was the smell. I knew this smell intimately; I was never one of those men who expected blow jobs with nothing in return. I'd gone down on Mira dozens of times; I'm a big fan of it.
But this smell was everywhere, soaking into the very fiber of my being.
And it was a fucking evocative smell.
I remembered every time we'd ever made love, every fight we'd ever had, every good time and every bad time. It made me shudder. And that made her just a little bit wetter.
As the day wore on, I lived in dread of meeting her boyfriend.
I had no idea how much I had to dread.
* * *
John, son of Maria
The Village of Tasgeni
The Land of Their Followers
The wind whipped through the village, and my blood was cold. We had seen a new Goddess, and though her visage had seemed troubled, and not altogether cruel, we knew that her wrath may be upon us soon.
I looked at our fair village, named for the mythical Princess who saved her kingdom from destruction. Not far away was the Village of Karen, and far to the east, the great rift, through which one could visit the Isle of the Greater. There was less land to be had there, but the Goddesses there appeared smaller, less immense.
Less frightening.
"John! Get yourself back here! You have many chores to perform if you hope to get supper tonight!"
It was my wifekeeper, Belinda. She was fair, and not that tall--she only stood one head taller than me. And as women went, she was kind. She rarely beat me, and could even show me what seemed, sometimes, to be love. I knew men whose backs bled from the stings of their wifekeeper's rod.
"I am your humble servant," I said, as I began to till the field again.
She walked up to me, her long blonde hair tied back, her blue eyes sparkling as she looked down at me. "If you do a good job, I may even let you couple with me," she said with a wink. "But I'd work hard if I were you, my little groomsquire."
I smiled as she walked towards the square, then trained my eyes back to the skies. They were empty of Their terrible gaze. I shook, as I thought of how different things would be if only men ran the world. We would surely never beat our wifesquires the way they beat us.
But who would be foolish enough to think that God was a man?
* * *
Sarah Kensington
Uptown
Minneapolis, Minnesota
We were disappointed to find that Teri and D.X. were out; we'd hoped to get going on finding Scott. But we consoled ourselves with shopping, and I splurged on a late dinner at the Lotus.
By the time we got back to the psychic studio, we were both a bit surprised to see how much was going on. D.X. had a computer going, and a rapidly growing mountain of paper surrounding him. Teri had canceled appointments, and was busy packing, though she admitted that she knew not what for.
"Big things are happening, that's all I know. We got charged today with a Holy quest."
The details of the Holy quest were...well, full of holes. D.X. seemed sure he'd been visited by God, or a representative thereof, and he was busy trying to use every source he had to find out what the Cadre was up to.
Finally, after about an hour, he got up from the computer, and sighed.
"Well, near as I can tell, they're looking for me. Other than that, I don't see what they're trying to do. If a conflict's coming, it's not coming from the Cadre."
"I still don't get it," I said. "What's the worst thing that could happen? I mean, so women get to shrink men, what's so bad about that?"
D.X. smiled a weary smile. "Nothing's wrong with that. In fact, it can be beautiful. But...well, tell me that if women were bigger and stronger than men that they wouldn't misuse that power, as surely as men have misused it?"
"Well, most women wouldn't misuse it. Most women, I think, would be kind."
He shook his head, sadly. "Most men--the vast, vast majority--are kind, decent, caring men. No more than one out of a hundred is monster enough to rape. No more than one out of ten cruel enough to strike a woman.
"But those men--less than one and ten at the most pessimistic--cause all women, everywhere to look over their shoulders. Women wonder: is my husband kind? Or will he smack me around? And most men will be kind, and never strike their spouse, ever--or only when their spouse is striking them.
"But you know someone who was raped or assaulted; we all do. And that colors everyone's thinking, even men's." He had a glass of some sort of whisky; he paused to take a sip, followed by a sip of water. He drew air in again, and said, "Women tend to think that men don't ever think about anything more deep than the size of their penis, but it's not true. Every man has had a moment of anger in which he thought, my God, am I going to lose it and hit her? And those moments stick with you. I don't trust men; I don't even trust myself.
"But women are no less human than men. If the roles were reversed, women would oppress, men would cower. It would not be unjust for the genders--only a million years could even the score--but it would be unjust for every man who cowered at his wife's hand.
"It's why they both fear me. Because I don't believe either side is black, or either side is white. Men and women alike can't be trusted. That's why I work to try to balance the scales. Maybe it's a fool's errand. But I can't abandon the principle of balance just because it's foolish."
He stared straight ahead. I said, simply, "D.X....I'll help you however I can. So will Kelly."
"What?" said Kelly, inquisitively.
"Think of the little man you and Laurie found...and consider this payback," I said. "You owe him this."
Kelly blinked, then said, "I'm in."
D.X. smiled, and said, simply, "Thanks."
Then, suddenly, "You should go home. Teri and I will be by at about eleven."
I was too stunned to question. We just went.
* * *
Anonymous
Somewhere in Minnesota
I had just about given up when I saw the vaccuum cleaner.
The mother of Brittany--my captor--was currently vaccuuming her daughter's room, not that carefully, but then again, she had a great deal on her mind, I was sure. Through all of this, I had seen no husband or boyfriend. She was a single mother, and I pitied her.
She turned off the vaccuum to move some clothes, and that's when I made my attempt. With all my might, I banged on the window of the dollhouse, hoping the rattling would be loud enough for her to hear.
I watched as she straightened somewhat. Then, she turned, and walked a bit towards me, her bare feet leading into a worn pair of jeans. She loomed over the house.
I worked harder, and was rewarded with a view of her knee, then her entire face. It felt like an earthquake as she dropped to the ground.
I gasped. She was looking at me, her blue eye, framed with her glasses, looking in directly at me. It was incredible.
Neither one of us said a word at first, until she said, soft enough to be a roar, at a tone that shook the house, "OH MY GOD...."
It was but a moment before she had opened the house and plucked me into the air. I sat on her giant palm and stared at her face, and I was scared.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?" she asked. "HOW ARE YOU EVEN POSSIBLE? WAIT A MINUTE...WHAT WERE YOU DOING IN MY DAUGHTER'S ROOM?"
With the last statement, her eyes narrowed, and a great protectiveness crossed her face.
"Madam, please, I mean no harm. Your daughter happened upon me and...well, I am at a bit of a disadvantage. She had no trouble securing me. I hoped to get in touch with you because, well, I am in distress, and while your daughter apears to be a fine girl...."
Her countenance changed as I spoke, from angry to concerned to bemused. "I DOUBT BRITTANY WAS MUCH HELP. BUT AT LEAST YOU HAD A PLACE TO LAY YOUR HEAD! ANYHOW, COME WITH ME, I'LL SEE HOW I CAN HELP."
Her voice was melodious, and I couldn't help but feel a bit infatuated; she was lovely, and at the moment, she was my great protector. I felt drawn to her. "BY THE WAY, I'M JESSICA FLANAGAN. AND YOU ARE?"
Against my general policy, I said, "My name is Smith. John Smith the Seventh, at your service, madam."
She smiled. "YOU'RE NOTHING IF NOT POLITE, MISTER SMITH. NOW...TELL ME HOW YOU GOT TO BE SO SMALL?"
* * *
Scott Chelgren
Mira was hot for this guy, at least initially.
They went out to Buca, and then for coffee. They spoke the same banal lines that people speak when they're on their third date. And I felt every squeeze, every push, every thrust she conceived in her mind.
She was, I think, trying to make me jealous.
But then, suddenly, jealousy was the last thing on my mind.
They were at his place; they were kissing a bit, and making out fairly easily, when suddenly and without warning, his rough hand reached up her skirt and pulled at her panties.
"PETER...NO, NOT YET...." I heard her say.
"COME ON...IT'LL BE FUN...." he said, as he pulled harder.
"I SAID NO, PETER....PETER....PETER!"
The last time had a bit of desperation. I felt her struggling, and I quickly surfaced, only to see him trying to pin her with one hand and unzip with the other.
Mira had been a jerk.
But nobody deserved this.
I quickly grew to six inches high, and was about to attack his dick, berserker-style. I didn't relish the possibility, but the distraction might allow Mira to break free from her predatory friend.
I wished that he was my size. Then it would be easy.
And suddenly, and very much without warning, he was.
"What the fuck?" he said, as he was suddenly six inches tall between the legs of a woman he had tried to rape. Before he could say more, I was upon him, landing a quick right and a knee to the groin, dropping him like a ton of bricks.
"Son of a bitch! What the...ahh...ahh!!!!"
I turned, to see that Mira had righted herself. She reached for him and grabbed him, hard.
She looked down at me, her eyes big and tearful. "DID...DID YOU DO THIS, SCOTT?"
I nodded. I thought I had done it, and if not...well, enough weird stuff happened around me that I felt justified in taking credit for some of it.
She held Peter up to her face. He was saying something like, "What the fuck who the fuck is he what the fuck are you what the fuck is happening to me oh my fucking God...."
"SHUT...THE FUCK...UP," she said, eyes filled with rage. "I COULD CRUSH YOU IN ONE HAND, PETE, AND I PROBABLY WILL, SO I WOULD APPRECIATE A LITTLE FUCKING RESPECT."
I looked at her. She had her panties around her knees, and a scratch on her right cheek. She was a fighter.
She squeezed.
Pete screamed, like he was being beaten to death--which he was. "Mira!" I shouted. "Don't!"
She stopped for a moment, turned to me, and said, "WHY NOT? HE WOULD'VE RAPED ME, IF NOT FOR YOU."
Part of me thought he deserved whatever he got, but I answered, "If you kill him, he'll become a missing person--and the last person he was with was you. It'll make things tough on you. He's not worth it. I'll fix this," I said, somehow sure I could.
She looked at me uncertainly, but said, "YOU'RE RIGHT--HE'S NOT WORTH IT. HE'S JUST A LITTLE FUCK. TELL ME, SCOTT--CAN YOU CONSPIRE TO KEEP HIS DICK DOWN AT THIS SIZE?"
"I can try," I said.
"THAT'S ALL I CAN ASK. HERE YOU GO!"
She tossed Pete at my side, and pulled her panties up. "Pete," I said, low enough to show I meant it, "I saved your life, and you're fucking lucky. But you may not think of it that way. You see, I'm going to return you to your normal size--in twenty minutes. But every time, from now for the rest of your life, when you lust after a woman, you will instantly shrink to six inches tall--and keep shrinking until you get the thoughts out of your head. And you'll stay that size, one hour for every five minutes those lustful thoughts are in your head. And the next time you meet a woman, she may not be as nice as Mira."
"Wait!" he said. "What if I do meet someone? You can't curse me like that!"
I smiled. "Pete...I said nothing of love. Love a woman--really love her--and you're home free. Anyhow--Mira? Ready to go dear?"
She swooped down upon me, and picked me up. We went out to her car, and drove a few blocks, before she turned off the motor and started to cry.
After about ten minutes, she wiped her eyes, and turned to me.
"SCOTT...I'M SORRY. FOR EVERYTHING NOW, AND EVERYTHING THEN."
I smiled at her. "I'm sorry too, Mira. We both owed each other more than we paid. I'll always love you."
She beamed a bit. "I'M GLAD. I'LL ALWAYS LOVE YOU TOO. DO YOU HAVE ANYONE?"
"A girl named Sarah. She's a Freshman."
"OCH! THROWN OVER FOR A FRESHMAN! WELL, WE'RE NOT EVER GETTING BACK TOGETHER, ARE WE?"
I laughed, "God, I hope not."
We both laughed, hard and joyful, before she finally sighed, and said the words I'd been praying for.
"SO...WHERE DOES THIS SARAH LIVE?"
* * *
Thirteen minutes later, we were in Middlebrook Hall, the twentieth floor, outside of Sarah's dorm room.
Mira knocked, and after a while, Sarah's roommate answered.
She was pretty, with her long red hair and what looked to be laugh lines. I stared between the fingers of Mira, where I was presently hidden. "YES?" she asked.
"EXCUSE ME, IS SARAH KENSINGTON HERE? I HAVE SOMETHING OF HERS...."
From out of nowhere, she appeared. She was a little bit rounder than she had been--the Freshman Fifteen was getting her. Not to matter--it had added more curve to her body, to startlingly good effect. Her brown hair hung crazily--she was getting ready for bed, it appeared. She was not put together at all, and my heart leapt. It was Sarah, the most beautiful, most perfect woman I had come across.
Mira handed me to her. I feared, at first, that Kelly would question, but she was looking at Sarah, smiling wide. "SO THAT'S WHY D.X. SENT US HOME!"
But Sarah wasn't answering. She held me with trembling hands, looking down upon me with tearful eyes, and said, simply, "IF YOU EVER, EVER RUN AWAY AGAIN, I...."
"Never. I love you too much. I'll never leave again." And with that her lips were upon me, kissing every inch of my figure. I had been away too long.
I was about to say my goodbyes to Mira when suddenly, I looked up and saw two new people. A man, in his thirties, bald with a goatee, and a beautiful dark-haired woman.
I felt naked, which of course I was, and a bit like an attraction.
"SCOTT," said the man, "THE BLOCK'S IN YOUR MIND. REMOVE IT. WE NEED YOUR HELP." He than turned to Sarah, and said, "I'M SORRY, BUT WE'RE RUNNING OUT OF TIME. HE CAN ALWAYS CHANGE BACK LATER. SCOTT?"
I struggled with the implications....
The block is in your mind....
I thought of the moment I had chosen this path. I knew I could open a window, and be full-sized. But I chose against that.
Was he asking me to....
I looked at her. She was nodding to me. "SCOTT...IT'S IMPORTANT. I'LL EXPLAIN LATER, BUT YOU CAN TRUST THIS GUY."
With her endorsement, I redirected my attention at the upward limit.
And found, to my surprise, I could move it all the way up to 72".
In but a second, I was sitting, for the first time in months, in the middle of a normal-sized dorm room. Sarah--normal size, still beautiful--rushed over and hugged me. I pulled back, and saw her beaming.
"I guess my misadventures our over," I said, after a long kiss.
"No, Scott, they're just beginning," said the man. "Come on, everyone. We're going to New York. Via the studio, of course."
* * *
D.X. Machina
Scott looked at me like I'd kicked him. I'm sure he wanted to stay here with Sarah, and probably at a diferent ratio. But I knew something he didn't:
He was an adept.
And I needed him. If half of what Ronnie Ceres had told me was true, I needed every bit of help I could get.
The ride to the psychic studio had been uneventful, except for some serious face time between Scott and Sarah. We gave them privacy, except for Kelly, who occasionally would say something like "Wow! That was a good one!" I liked her; she had spunk.
When we arrived, I meant to head for the computer, grab some information, and head out; It was a bit crowded with five people in the car, but I would let Scott shrink presently; I just wanted him to know he could be any size.
We had a long trip in front of us.
I didn't do any of these things, though. For as soon as we entered the door, they greeted us. One a middle-aged man with a bit of a paunch, the other a human-sized mouse on two legs.
"Well well well," I said. "Bigg and Little."
It seemed the Cadre had found me after all.
"The Universe is not only queerer than we imagine, it is queerer than we can imagine."
Scott Chelgren
Madame Theresa's Psychic Studio
Uptown
Minneapolis, Minnesota
I must say, I wasn't happy with the turn of events.
I had pretty much assumed that once I found Sarah, we'd resume our life together--this time, forever; I'd worked out all the self-pity I had, and accepted my size. It would be tough, but people face tough situations all the time, and don't give up.
I was looking forward to overcoming the obstacles with her.
I was not expecting to be sitting in the back of a crowded Ford Taurus, full-sized, kissing Sarah (and enjoying it) with her roommate looking on.
Not that Kelly was a bad person; she actually seemed quite nice--a bit daffy, but her daffiness was charming.
But I had hoped to give Sarah's body a thorough exploration. Her beauty, her personality, her fire was undiminished at any scale, and I loved her completely.
But I had enjoyed it when she loomed over me.
We arrived at our destination--a psychic studio in a house on Hennepin Avenue--and piled out of the car. D.X. had loaned me sweatpants and a sweatshirt--I was grateful for that, though I would've rather he stayed out of it altogether. Sarah had told me to trust him, and I trusted her--but it seemed a bit imperious of him to demand we all come with him to New York.
Then again, Sarah seemed willing to go. And I would follow her anywhere.
We entered the house, and D.X. said, "Well well well, Bigg and Little. Fancy meeting you here."
He was facing two men--well, that's not quite right. One of the men...if you looked right at him, he looked human. But if you caught him out of the corner of your eye, he appeared to be...well, I was used to giant rodents, but out of the corner of my eye he appeared to be a full-sized, bipedal one.
"What are you doing in the home of a League member?" asked the guy who was, undoubtedly, human.
"I could ask you the same question, Henry Bigg. Why does the Cadre have you in Minneapolis?"
The rat answered. "We're looking for you, D.X. And Anonymous--he's disappeared. We were wondering if you had anything to do with it."
I watched D.X. He appeared shaken by that bit of news, but said, simply, "Anon is missing? That can't be good. But Stuart, what makes you think that I have anything to do with disappearing Anonymous? He's a friend--which is more than I can say for you."
"You sonofabitch, D.X., you always have to be so goddamn arrogant about things. You and I both know that you turned your back on us long ago."
"Watch your tounge, operative. You can say what you will--I'm still a Board member, and I still have rights."
The mouse seethed. "Not anymore, D.X." He raised his palms and closed his eyes, as did his counterpart. D.X. stumbled a bit, as he, too seemed to focus, and slowly, slowly, to shrink.
Teri said, "Oh no you don't," and quickly raised her right hand. It was clear she was overmatched, though, as barely five seconds later, she gasped, and collapsed on the floor in pain. Sarah ran to her, as D.X. crossed below the five foot mark.
"You can't hold out forever, D.X. Better you give up now. We'll go back to Anaheim, and you can explain yourself." The man--Henry--said this, coldly.
D.X. said nothing, but turned towards me. "Scott--I could use some help."
Help? I had no idea what the hell was going on. But suddenly, I felt myself raising my left hand, and thinking:
Block
I didn't know what it meant, but it had an effect. D.X. began to regain height, and the Rat--he was now clearly a rodent to me, even viewed straight-on--grew wide-eyed.
"A fucking Adept? Where did you find an Adept?" he said, backing up.
I didn't know what he meant, but as quickly as I had before, I thought:
Shrink, 1:18
The effect was instant. Both Bigg and Little dropped quickly to 4 inches tall. I thought:
Bind
And as quickly as the battle was joined, it was over.
"Kelly, would you collect our intruders?
D.X dusted off his jacket, and walked over to his girlfriend. "Teri, are you all right?"
She smiled, weakly. "I had no idea how much power was being wielded. How did you stop them?"
"I fought them to a stalemate. Then Scott here finished them off. Nice job, Adept Chelgren."
I was thoroughly confused. "What do you mean, 'Adept Chelgren'? What the fuck is going on here? Did I just do what I think I just did?"
"Yes, Scott. You have more power in your pinkie than I do in my whole body--and I've been training for years. You need to learn to harness it--and I can help you with that. You're an Adept. A natural fountain of GTS power. And, as of this moment, the only living male Adept." He looked at me very seriously. "I once told Sarah that you were going through great changes. The power within you is growing, Scott. If we have any hope of saving the world, we need you with us. Will you help us?"
I looked at Sarah, who was looking at me with awe. I was dumbstruck, but somehow, I knew that this was my calling; finally, I had a purpose in life.
"I will help you, D.X. But...."
"....You would like some time alone with your girlfriend at some point. Well, I don't blame you. We'll straighten this out in a few moments, but first, I want to try to figure out where Anonymous is."
A new voice, small, but jovial, said, "Oh, I think that's easy, D.X. I see you've defeated Little and Bigg. Well done!"
* * *
Anonymous
About two minutes later, I had been restored to full size, and was rewarded by a peck on the cheek from Jessica.
Well, we'd done more than that in the preceeding hours; I will say no more, as I am a man of taste and respect, but I have a much greater appreciation of the female form than I once did.
And besides, Jessica is a fascinating individual, and...well, I have never been in love before, but I rather suspect that I am now.
I like her daughter, too.
After being filled in by D.X. on the current circumstances, I realized that the situation was suitably grave; we would have to leave for New York immediately. Before I left, though, I offered Brittany (who had come along for the ride) an olive branch; she was unhappy at losing her doll.
"Brittany--would you like two little dolls to replace the one you lost?" I queried, looking at Henry and Stuart.
"Anon--you wouldn't--when the Cadre finds out about this...."
"Stuart, please, you should be so lucky. Besides, I'd think the years spent at this size would've prepared you for this. Anyhow, would you like them?"
"Yes! If it's okay with Mommy."
I liked the girl; her mother had raised her with manners.
"It's fine with me; tell me, Jon, will you be back soon?"
"As swiftly as I can, my dear. And then...we will have some time together."
She smiled, sweetly, and gave me a tender kiss, the likes of which I had never enjoyed before. "Come back soon," she said huskily. "I'll be waiting."
* * *
Four hours later, at 3:50 in the morning, we stopped in Madison.
It had been an uneventful, if crowded, ride. Scott had chosen to reduce his height to four inches, the better to curl up in his girlfriend's lap; Kelly and I bantered into the night. She was quite a fine girl, for an eighteen year old. She also was complaining bitterly.
"So far, everyone's managed to find someone but me. D.X. found Teri, Sarah found Scott, you--you found that nice Jessica. But me--I'm all alone. I say it's because of my hair--nobody likes orange hair."
All three of the males answered, in unison, "Everyone likes orange hair." I continued, "My dear, you're lovely, and you're bright; you're only eighteen. It took me until I was forty-one to find someone, and that required a radical dimunition in my scale. I'd say your odds are good, and I, for one, don't feel sorry for you."
She stuck her tounge out, then smiled, and said, "Well, neither do I. But I feel like bitching. So sue me."
Scott and Sarah laughed. And that laughter carried us into downtown Madison, where we lodged at a Best Western on the Capitol Square.
* * *
D.X. Machina
Inn on the Park
Madison, Wisconsin
The dreams were always worse when I was in this town.
I had been a Freshman here, a long, long time ago. I had been here when The Coed was here, and I had defeated her here.
Her soul still lived in this town; I knew that on a level I was unprepared to deal with. And when I was here, she could find me.
She was standing on Library Mall, an easy 300 feet tall, screaming with joy and power.
"THEY'RE GOING TO RESURRECT ME! THEY'RE GOING TO DESTROY THE FUCKING PATRIARCHY! HEY, FELLAS, WHAT DO YOU THINK OF ME NOW?"
"Liz!" I shouted at her. "They're not all evil! You don't have to do this!"
She glared down at me. "IT'S NOT SEVEN YEARS AGO, JAKE. THIS IS A NEW TIME, AND A NEW REGIME. THEY WILL SUCCEED WHERE I FAILED. AND WHEN THEY DO, I CAN REST."
"Liz...as much as I would like to give you rest, I can't let them win."
Suddenly, and without warning, another giantess appeared. She was familiar, but somehow distorted--I couldn't see her clearly. She said, simply, "YOU WILL."
I awoke with a start, gasping for air. Teri looked at me through half-closed eyes, and said, "What's wrong?"
I realized where I was--Inn on the Park, a cheap hotel room, at about 5:45 in the morning. "Nothing," I said, lying back down. "Just a dream."
I wished I believed it.
* * *
Veronica Ceres
League Headquarters
New York, New York
It was early morning on a Monday, and I was in my office at headquarters. I was ostensibly monitoring the GTS websites and chatrooms, but my mind was not in my work.
We had become monsters.
The boxes were amazing, technologically. They enclosed a bit of spacetime that belonged to North America, about 100,000 years ago. The people in the boxes weren't really there--they were deep in out past.
But they could see us, and we could see them. And they were bounded by the effect.
It was confusing, but suffice it to say that their very being could allow us to dispense with trying to change society. All we needed to do is move these people into our sphere of being, and simultaneously wipe out all the people living.
It was sheer madness, like some lazy hack writer's plot to take over the world. And we were caught up in it.
I had to stop it; I just didn't know how.
* * *
Scott Chelgren
Inn on the Park
Madison, Wisconsin
I woke up around nine.
It had been strange, sleeping full-size in a bed. I wasn't sure I liked it that much. But Sarah had insisted--"If you're going to be full-sized, then we're going to have to figure out how to sleep in the same bed," she had said, matter-of-factly. And of course, as always, she was right.
But I didn't have to like it--and I didn't.
Sarah was already up, and smiled at me brightly. "Hey there, I was wondering if you'd be waking up anytime soon."
God, she was beautiful. She had pulled her hair back into a ponytail--it was a good look for her. I found myself staring, and finally said, "Man, I've missed you."
She brightened. "That goes for me, too. But it's strange having you be--well, you know, full-size and all."
I said, simply, "That can be remedied."
She said, simply, "If you want to, we can remedy that immediately."
We didn't remedy it immediately; I had some business to attend to in the restroom. But shortly, I was back in bed with her, shrunk down to one inch tall.
"WELL," she said, smiling down at me. "WHERE WOULD YOU LIKE TO GO TODAY?"
I didn't speak. Instead, I walked down her right side, stroking her genly with my right hand. As I reached her hip, I slid under the space under her leg--I knew from experience I had nothing to fear.
Once in between her thighs, I heard her rumble, "NOT WASTING ANY TIME, ARE YOU?" Again, I didn't answer. Instead, I stepped forward and began to work on her labia.
They were like immense gates, but they parted with some doing. I could smell her arousal all around me, and it carried me inside.
I stroked gently as I pushed myself up towards my ultimate goal, with good effect. I knew, though, that I really just had to hit one spot.
I found it presently, and kissed it gently. The world shook as Sarah felt my presence. "OHHH...THAT'S IT...." she said, as I begain to massage her clit with all of me, including my pelvis.
It was as good a ride as it ever was. It had been too long since we had this opportunity, and it was everything I could've hoped for. As we both came, I knew for sure that the woman I was with was the woman I would be with forever.
I also knew that as good as it had sometimes been, full-sized sex could never compete with this.
* * *
Two hours later, we were down on State Street, shopping for some clothes.
D.X. had given us five hundred dollars, and told us not to bring any of it back. I asked him where he got the money, and he just smiled, and said, "You don't think gold is impervious to GTS, do you?" So we got some good outfits--I leaned towards Ragstock, I tend to like the Bohemian look, but Sarah demanded we go somewhere respectable, which is why when we finally returned to Inn on the Park, I looked like an ad for Urban Outfitters.
I had even shaved, which was strange. I'd gotten used to the Robinson Crusoe look, but it was nice not to have to mess with the big hillbilly beard.
"We're going to leave for New York tomorrow," said D.X. when we returned. "I want to spend another day in Madison. We need to work on your skills as an Adept, and besides, there isn't a city on Earth that's more fun."
"Why are we worrying about fun when the fate of the world is at stake?" asked Kelly, pointedly. It was the question we all had on our minds.
"Because if the world is to end, then we should all enjoy one last fun time. Haven't you ever heard the saying, 'Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we shall die'? That applies here, folks. Anon and I have been looking at the situation, and--well, it's pretty grim. Basically, you've got the six of us versus two organizations with immense power and vast resources. The odds aren't good."
We sat in silence for a few minutes, before Sarah said, "Well...I guess I don't have to worry about missing my Physics test on Friday."
At that, D.X. smiled, and said, "If we fail, we won't have to worry about anything. And if we succeed...."
"We will succeed," I said, surprised I said it. "But first...I probably need to begin my training, right?"
D.X. nodded. "The rest of you should go wander State Street. We'll meet you at the Living Room--it's a bar on Univerity--at nine tonight. Scott?"
And with that, my training began.
"In the fight between you and the world, back the world."
--Kafka's Law
Scott Chelgren
Memorial Union
University of Wisconsin--Madison
Madison, Wisconsin
"You need to let go your conscious mind. Free your thoughs, and focus on the task at hand."
I listened to the words spoken by D.X., and immediately, I knew what I had to do.
"A pitcher of the Capital Oktoberfest, please."
"Well done! Your tutelage in beer is complete. Unfortunately, the GTS work is a bit harder."
We poured a pint apiece, then settled down to our real task at hand. I found myself liking D.X. He was a bit of a rogue--but I could tell he didn't mean it. He was the way he was because he had to be--because people were depending on him.
"So what do I have to do?" I asked, quietly.
"Well, first, you have to realize that the sort of power you have can be an incredibly destructive force," he said, sipping his microbrew. "The kind of power at your disposal could make Hurricane Andrew look like light showers. It could make Hiroshima look like kids playing with firecrackers. What you are, and what you can do, could destroy the world."
"You're kidding."
"No way. You're not strong enough to do this, but imagine making Sarah a trillion miles tall. What would that do to Earth? Rip off the atmosphere in a millisecond. Pull it right towards her navel, and crush it against her skin."
I swallowed hard. "But I wouldn't do that."
"Not intentionally. But what if when you were making love to her, you pictured her immensely huge? You might find your power escaping you. That's why you need to learn control."
I thought about something. "Before I came here, I cursed a guy with a shrinking disorder...he was a rapist, so I didn't feel bad, but...could that cause a problem?" I went on to explain the curse I'd placed on Pete.
D.X. looked grim, but managed a tight smile. "He was an attempted rapist. I won't cry over him. But that's the sort of thing I'm talking about--you did that on a whim. You've got to be able to turn it on or off with volition. As for Pete...." he closed his eyes for a second. "There. I've modified your curse to make it a little bit more devilish. He deserves it. He'll drop straight to 1" now. After all, we don't want him found, do we?"
I smiled. "No. Better he get stepped on."
"Right," he said, and downed his beer. "So anyhow...on to our first excercise...."
* * *
KellyAnn Johnson
Noodles and Company
State Street
Madison, Wisconsin
"So, do you think you'll have any problems with your Physics midterm?" I asked this of Sarah, who was eating her Thai noodles with a total lack of enthusiasm.
"Nah...I've got Michaud, and he's usually pretty scattered. I'll just talk him into giving it to me again. He will. You?" I sighed. "I've got Nichols. She's a bit of a taskmaster. But I'll convince her. I'm hoping to be back by Friday anyhow."
"Then again, the world could come to an end." Teri returned with two Mountain Dews for us, and a copy of some newspaper called The Onion. "You should read this, it's pretty good," she said, dropping the paper in front of me.
"U.S. INVADES VIETNAM--Clinton: 'We Need Another Vietnam'" screamed the headline. This was obviously a joke--and a pretty good one.
"So Teri," said Sarah, "do you think it's as bad as D.X. said?"
"It's worse," said Anonymous, who was wrapping up his phone call. "I just contacted a Cadre colleague. He says they're on a war footing. I wonder what they're discussing."
* * *
V. Koschkei, Chairman of the Cadre
Anaheim, California
"In short, Mister Chairman, I say we must not panic! We have no evidence that the disappearance of Bigg and Little has anything to do with either Machina or the League. Little has been a rogue operative since day one, and Bigg--well, he ain't the sharpest knife in the drawer. I say we should see what is happening before we choose a path that leads to war!"
Eisner sat down heavily. He never wanted this--he just wanted to make money and run Disney. I sympathized, but I couldn't relieve him of his duty.
I was handed a message by a page. I arched an eyebrow, and said, "Gentlemen, there is some news. Anonymous has checked in. He says that he has not found Machina, but that he had a run-in with Veronica Ceres. She, apparently, was looking for our friend D.X. as well."
"What has he to say on the League?" asked Szalinsky.
"Not much. He says something is up, but he was too busy trying to fight off a shrinking spell to get much information." I frowned. This seemed awfully sloppy for Jon. He is usually more reliable than this....
"I fear our friend Anonymous may be compromised."
"By the League?" asked Eisner.
"No," I said. "By Machina. I think the time has come. D.X. is positioning himself. The League is positioning itself. I respect Mr. Eisner's concern, but as Chairman of this organization, I must call on you all to rally to the standard of manhood.
"I call a vote on war with the League."
The vote was 11-0, with three--Anonymous, Don Bluth, and D.X. Machina--abstaining.
We were at war.
* * *
Scott Chelgren
"I don't understand," I said. "Why are we here again?"
We were both 1/4 inch tall, standing underneath a table in the bar, which was presently occupied by a group of coeds. Each shift of a foot was an earthquake, each tap on the table a deafening thud.
"Because," said D.X., "you have to get a feel for Giantesses."
"Are you nuts?" I said, forgetting my place. "I spent months at this size! I've been trying to survive on my own for weeks at insect size. What do you mean, get a feel? I've gotten plenty of feel!"
D.X. sighed. "I know you've seen them, Scott. But focus! I'm not talking about brute survival here. I'm talking about an appreciation for what kind of power these women have, on a higher level--oh, hell and damn, close your eyes, I'll show you."
I did as my teacher said, and suddenly, I found myself sitting at a table, talking to two women I didn't know.
Actually, I wasn't talking. I was sitting in a body that was talking; I was listening, and feeling the strange sensation of being in a person I was not in control of. A hand brushed by my cheek, to move hair connected to my head out of the way. The nails were long and red. The eyes I saw through looked down, and I saw my body--nice breasts, thin waist, hips just a little bit wider than perfect--and I realized that I was seeing through the eyes of one of the women who towered above me.
Perspective is everything, Scott. To the woman in the chair, you're an irrelevancy. To you, she is enormous.
How...
A simple trick, said D.X. Or something approaching speaking. You could do it if you wanted to. It's a lot of fun on a boring Saturday night, let me tell you. But now it's time to come back.
Suddenly, my eyes opened, and I was back underneath the table, looking at a foot that had just seemed a part of me, a foot the size of a building.
"My God," I said.
"Yes," said D.X. "Yes indeed. The first part of our lesson is ended. Now, on to the next trial.
* * *
Sarah Kensington
West Towne Mall
Madison, Wisconsin
I was going through the Wisconsin paraphernalia with a modicum of disgust. After all, I'm a Minnesotan by birth and by choice of school; the Badgers were the enemy of all that was right and Maroon and Gold. But when in Rome--and when short on clothes--do as the Romans do. I bought a couple of sweatshirts, and pondered what strange rituals Scott was having to go through.
It was very strange. I was used to having the power in our relationship, but now Scott had more power than anyone I knew--including D.X. He could shrink and grow at will, he could shrink or grow me at will. I wondered what would become of our relationship.
I laughed at myself; this could be great. Scott could be a full-sized person who could nevertheless be tiny at the most opportune times. This morning had been great--the type of reunion I'd hoped for.
But I knew that I was going to have to get used to being the one in the submissive role--no, that wasn't true. Scott would never, never force me to do anything; I had known that since I met him, since I told him he wouldn't hurt me if he was seven feet tall. And I believed that firmly.
But though he wouldn't be the one in charge, neither would I. We were equals now, and I found that daunting.
* * *
Scott Chelgren
Elizabeth Waters Hall
University of Wisconsin--Madison</1>
Madison, Wisconsin
"I tell you, Scott, the best year of my life was spent in this very dorm." D.X. was walking with me through a generic-looking dorm, a fair ways from the Union we'd just visited. Then again, the pleasant walk along the lake was nice--much nicer than any scenery the U of M had to offer. Maybe if they hadn't put Coffman Union right on the River--
But I digress. We walked into Elizabeth Waters Hall, and I knew immediately that our presence would be noticed--after all, it was obviously an all-women's dorm.
"Don't worry," said D.X., smiling widely. "Everyone who looks at us is seeing two average-looking girls. A simple bit of misdirection--same as Stuart Little uses when he's full-sized. An easy trick--but that's not why we're here."
We walked to a dorm room, and D.X. stopped. He turned white for a second, and then composed himself. He closed his eyes, and said:
"This room is a nexus of GTS power. It was created by an unfortunate woman who came across secrets she could not bear. You must face the nexus."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Shrink down to 1/8 inch, and walk under the door. There may be people in the room, or maybe not. Either way, turn immediately to your right, and start walking. You will come upon the presence."
I started to question, but he said, "I will be out here, waiting. Go."
Swallowing, I reduced my height and walked under the door, into a nondescript dorm room. I turned right, and saw a titaness sitting at a desk in the distance, listening to earphones and reading. I ignored her, and crept forward.
Suddenly, the world distorted and stretched, until it was unrecognizable. Then, everything became dark.
The sky parted and brilliant white light flooded my eyes. "SO," boomed a voice, "WE'VE CAPTURED ANOTHER ONE, EH, LITTLE ONE?"
I was dropped roughly onto a plain, and looked up to see a man, about my age, looking at me with pity.
It was D.X. Younger, but obvously him.
"Liz," he said, "I don't think you want to harm this one. He's not like the others, he's like me."
"NONSENSE. HE'S EXACTLY LIKE THE OTHERS. YOU SAID YOURSELF THE ONLY PUNISHMENT A RAPIST DESERVES IS DEATH."
I looked up at the woman. She was achingly beautiful, with red hair and green eyes and an almost demonic look about her. I knew that I had a great deal to fear.
"I'm not a rapist! I hate rapists! I cursed one just yesterday!"
"LIAR!" she shouted, and brought her hand upon me.
I felt it all in slow motion, her palm striking me, crushing me into paste, liquifying my body in one fell swoop.
I gasped, breathing the air of the room. I saw the girl from earlier starting to rise. I took the opportunity to leave.
* * *
"What did you see?" asked D.X., as I returned to my normal size.
"I saw a red-haired girl, and you. The girl crushed me to death."
He was very, very quiet. Then, finally, he said, "She is a warning to you, and to me. She is the embodiment of what can go wrong with GTS. She was a good soul. The GTS destroyed her."
"Did you really know her?" I asked.
He smiled, sadly. "I had to kill her in the end. To save all of humanity, I had to destroy her. That is the lesson of this, Scott, that the price to achieve what we want is awfully fucking high.
"You have learned much today, my young apprentice. Let's get a drink."
* * *
D.X. Machina
The Living Room
Madison, Wisconsin
I nursed my scotch, and tried not to think about the events of the day.
Scott had come far, and he would progress farther; he was rash, but he was only 22; he had time to learn. And while he lacked full control of his powers, it wasn't limits I required of him.
I looked at Theresa. She was so beautiful. I was fortunate for having known her at all, lucky beyond belief that she should love me. And yet, that night, I felt an aching all too familiar.
I closed my eyes. I could not give Liz her due. Not yet.
Tomorrow, we were on to New York. And what awaited us there was more horrific than anything I could've imagined.
A shared cigarette and a hidden knife, a too-small suit, probably borrowed from a brother who was expecting it back that evening, and a bloody betrayal. I listened to this tale and heard huge boulders moving somewhere, my centre of gravity shifted and I saw the breath of monsters gathering on the horizon. Terrible things could happen, even to ordinary people like me, and they were always unplanned.
Meera Syal, Anita and Me
D.X. Machina
Flight 203, Chicago to New York
Somewhere over Ohio
I looked out the window at one of the Great Lakes--Erie? Huron? I never can remember of any of 'em East of Lake Michigan--and pondered. Was I doing the right thing? I had set things in motion here that would affect the lives of all six of us--and while Anon and I had signed on for this, Scott, Sarah, Teri, and Kelly were here because I'd asked them to come. It seemed hardly fair to them.
But I needed them with. I looked at Teri. She was beautiful, I loved her deeply, and I wanted nothing more than to go back to the Twin Cities and be with her.
I hoped I knew what I was doing.
* * *
Scott Chelgren
La Guardia International Airport
New York, New York
The last time I flew, it was the ride back from L.A. I had spent the entire flight curled up in Sarah's ear, telling her of my misadventures in Los Angeles, leaving out the part about Sandra Bullock--well, part of it, anyhow. It had been a good way to fly.
I'd forgotten how tight seats were in coach. I considered shrinking, just a bit, to give myself more legroom, but D.X. would have none of it--he wanted me saving my strength. Instead, he had pulled me aside, and said:
"Scott, things are going to get real hairy real quick. I'm not going to lie to you: you're going to be faced with some bad stuff."
"Well, D.X., thanks for the pep talk. I feel great," I said, sardonically.
He smiled. "You need to know the truth, young Adept. There are a couple more spells I want to teach you...."
He taught me the incantations; they were easy, I knew instinctively that I could do them. Then he said, "Scott...if we're ambushed by the League, I don't want them knowing right away that we've got an Adept in our party. If we get in a fight with them, don't cut loose until I give the word."
"What if you die?" The question shocked me; I didn't want to consider that possibility. But D.X. smiled a bit.
"That's always a possibility. If I'm dead, cut loose with everything you've got; your honor guard in Hell is determined by how many you take out on your way out. But that's only if I'm dead; let's hope that doesn't happen."
I walked down the jetway, hoping against hope that we wouldn't lose D.X.; that would lose our battle for sure.
It was as we exited the jetway that I saw them.
There were eight of them--all women, ranging in age from about fifteen to fifty. They were all attractive, but that wasn't what I noticed.
One of them was stepping forward, hand outstretched in an attack posture.
My instincts screamed at me to defend the group, but my training paid off; at least, I did what D.X. said. I raised my hand in a defense posture and thought:
Defend--just a touch
My personal forcefield winked out of existence at the barest touch of her spell, and suddenly I saw the ceiling shooting upwards.
I knew--I knew--that I could easily overcome this. But I looked at a rapidly shrinking D.X. and could tell that this was not the time to do so. Instead, I kept shrinking until I was about an inch tall.
"ISIS, YOU HAVE DONE VERY WELL," said an approaching giantess, with long, dark hair streaked with grey. "D.X. MACHINA, ANONYMOUS, AND--WHO IS THE BOY?"
I was numb with shock when I realized she was talking to Teri.
D.X. was livid. "Teri--how could you? You sold us out!"
She was kneeling down over her tiny lover, a malevolent look in her eye. "JAKE, YOU KNEW I WAS PART OF THE LEAGUE. DID YOU REALLY THINK I'D TAKE YOUR SIDE OUT OF LOVE?" The last word was sneered.
I was shocked, but not as shocked as what happened next. "THE 'BOY' IS NAMED SCOTT, MISTRESS CERES. HE IS MY PET."
That these words were spoken at all sent shivers down my spine.
That these words were spoken by Sarah made my blood run cold.
I wanted to strike out, but I heard D.X.'s voice: Stay calm, Scott. This is not the right time. They have us outnumbered and outgunned. Remember your training.
He was right; we were badly outclassed. D.X., Anon, and I all had powers, but with the addition of Teri, Sarah, and Kelly, we were outnumbered 11-3.
Instead of fighting, I screamed, "Sarah--why?"
She loomed over me. "BECAUSE I WANT A MAN I CAN BOSS AROUND, SCOTT. AND THAT'S NOT YOU, NOT SINCE YOU LEARNED HOW TO CONTROL GTS."
I stammered, but then heard the leader of the group say, "ENOUGH WITH THE CHATTER. ISIS--GRAB THE THREE. COME WITH US. VICTORY WILL BE OURS!"
Teri grabbed the three of us--now only one inch tall--with one hand. We were balled neatly into her fist.
The ride was rough, until we were thrust into a velvet bag. Then, it was merely disquieting.
"D.X.--what the Hell happened?" I finally said, after regaining my voice.
"It was not unexpected," he said. "Why do you think I pulled you aside? Good work concealing your power; nobody but I knows your true power. The women know you have GTS ability; they don't know how much. Keep it that way."
"How can you say the betrayal was not unexpected?" I shouted. "These--these are our closest lovers! Maybe Teri--but Sarah--"
"Enough," he said. "They are in the thrall of the League. They are a powerful organization, and they indoctrinated Teri. Have you never seen The Manchurian Candidate? These are easy tricks, Scott. Better you hold tight. Trust me. I will not steer you wrong."
* * *
We were dumped unceremoniously onto a table.
There were about a dozen women staring down at us, including Teri, Sarah, and Kelly; Teri looked happy, Sarah looked--I don't know, I'd never seen her look like that, and Kelly looked bemused.
There were others. The woman from earlier--"Mistress" Ceres--was there. So was an older, red-haired woman, probably in her late forties, with a girlish figure. I thought I saw Mia Hamm there, and--maybe I imagined this--the First Lady.
The red haired woman spoke. "SO, D.X. YOU DECIDED TO JOIN US IN OUR HOUR OF TRIUMPH?"
"I did no such thing, President Jackson," he said, evenly; he was almost respectful. "I am here to prevent you from making a grave mistake."
The women--all of them--laughed heartily, as if D.X. had just told the funniest joke in history. "OH, D.X. HOW FOOLISH OF YOU. STILL HOLDING TO THE CADRE'S TEACHINGS. I HAD EXPECTED SO MUCH MORE."
"Madame President, I hold to no teachings. I am here to defend humanity, not to defend mankind."
"HMMF. SO YOU SAY. WE SHALL SEE. ANONYMOUS--YOU ARE HERE AS SANCHO TO D.X. QUIXOTE, EH?"
Anonymous shrugged off the slight. "Ms. Jackson, I am here to defend our species from your meddling. That is all," he said, sounding somehow more regal than ever.
"YOU TWO. YOU HAVE FORGOTTEN THE TEACHING OF YOUR MR. HEINLEIN: TITLTING AT WINDMILLS HURTS YOU MORE THAN THE WINDMILL. BUT BE THAT AS IT MAY." Suddenly, she turned her attention to me. "YOU--SCOTT--I AM TOLD THAT YOU ARE TRAINING IN THE WAYS OF GTS. SHOW ME."
I looked at D.X. He was impassive, and I knew that he wanted me to hold back.
I was beginning to doubt his strategy, but I decided he knew more than I about such things. I turned back to the President, and said, "Ma'am, I don't know much--just a few--parlor tricks, I guess. Master Machina says that maybe, someday, when I'm ready--"
"SILENCE!" she roared, pounding the table so hard that D.X., Anonymous, and I flew several feet into the air before landing in a heap. "YOU WILL SHOW ME HOW MUCH POWER YOU HAVE BY SHRINKING ME. NOW."
I sighed, and closed my eyes. I could feel the raging current of power within me. I wanted desperately to strike, to attack her, but instead, I thought:
Shrink, 72:71 scale
I then made it look like I was struggling, straining, working mightily to shave less than an inch off of her figure.
Then again, that was six feet to me.
She laughed, loudly. "YOU WERE RIGHT, SCOTT. NO BETTER THAN A PARLOR TRICK. AND D.X. WAS COUNTING ON YOU TO HELP. ISIS!"
"YES, MILADY," responded Teri.
"KILL HIM."
* * *
Teri crossed over to a position by me. She stared down at me, looming darkly, the angel of death.
I kept waiting for D.X. to give the go-ahead, to let me cut loose, but I heard nothing.
"ARE YOU SURE WE SHOULD KILL HIM? HE MAY BE USEFUL," said Teri to the President.
"ISIS, YOU WERE KNOWN TO BE IN A ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP WITH D.X. I'D HAVE YOU KILL HIM, BUT HE STILL MAY BE OF USE TO US. SO PROVE YOUR LOYALTY TO THE CAUSE. KILL THIS BOY!"
I kept waiting. D.X. had to be waiting for exactly the right moment. He had to be. I trusted him.
I had deep faith. I trusted him even as Teri's hand came down upon me.
* * *
Anonymous
It was a bloodly, viscious sight, Teri crushing Scott to death. "Why?" I cried out, as much at D.X. as at the women. I knew D.X. had a plan--he was never this calm unless he had a plan--but at the present, that plan was clearly lacking.
Silence, friend, faith will abide, came the cryptic response from D.X. Laughter was the response from the women.
"NOW, ISIS," said Leah, callously, "DISPOSE OF THE EVIDENCE."
Teri gingerly scooped up the puddle of goo that once was Adept Scott Chelgren, and without so much as a word, swallowed the mess whole.
"NOW, ON TO YOU TWO. OBVIOUSLY, WE DON'T WANT YOU TWO TOGETHER. VERONICA!" Leah called for Ceres, and Ronnie was only to happy to appear. "YOU WILL TAKE D.X. NICELY DONE, RONNIE!"
Ceres grasped my friend in her hand. "IT'S PAYBACK TIME, LITTLE BOY," she said with a smirk.
"NOW, ANON--YOU'LL ENJOY THIS. THERE'S A YOUNG APPRENTICE IN THE LEAGUE--JUST GOT HER OWN RECORDING CONTRACT. WE HAVE PLANS FOR HER, BUT SHE NEEDS TRAINING. BRITNEY? YOU WILL HAVE THE HONOR OF TAKING CARE OF ANONYMOUS."
A young girl stepped forward, probably about sixteen years old. She was stunningly beautiful, wearing a red t-shirt and denim jeans. She picked me up roughly, and said, "YOU WILL ADDRESS ME AS 'MISTRESS SPEARS.' GOT IT?"
"Yes...Mistress Spears," I said.
With that, she smiled wickedly, and stuffed me into a blouse pocket. I wondered what the future held for D.X. and I.
More than it holds for Scott, I thought, glumly.
* * *
Scott Chelgren
Inside of Teri Rowland
As my body melted back into a body, I resolved never to get involved with something like this again.
I had cast the spell at the last second--Morpheus, the ability to morph one's shape. As her hand struck me, I changed my shape into a puddle of goo--and did well, by everyone's reaction.
I had been unprepared for Teri to swallow me, but the sensation had not been bad--like being on a waterslide, almost fun.
Now, though, I was inside her stomach, in a body that I had quickly envisioned--one impervious to stomach acid, with night vision so I could see my surroundings.
Having GTS powers did come in handy.
I could hear from the outside that D.X. had been handed over to Mistress Ceres, and Anonymous had been handed over to some woman named Brittany. I needed to find out more, though; I had to figure a way out, and more important, I had to figure out what was going on.
The spell--Claris was simple. My world dissolved away, and I was seeing through the eyes of my ingester.
We were walking through a hall, being led by the leader--the President was less imposing this way, I thought. "You will be rooming in here, Isis, along with your young apprentice Kelly. Well done, tonight."
"Thank you," the voice that was not mine answered. "What of my apprentice Sarah?"
"Oh," said the woman, laughing. "She seemed a bit off-put by your execution of the boy. She is young, and it is a harsh indoctrination; she will be working with Special Chairwoman Hamm to gain strength in her superiority."
"As you wish," slid the words out of my lips.
We were shown into a lavish room, and sat down in a leather chair. The President left, and as the door closed, the world swam.
At first, I couldn't figure out what was happening. I thought I was losing my connection.
Then, I realized what was causing my vision to blur.
Tears.
* * *
Anonymous
Miss Spears appeared completely naked, and I had to admit, for half a second, I was quite aroused.
"ANONYMOUS," she boomed, with the barest hint of a southern drawl. "I AM, AT PRESENT, A VIRGIN. AND I AM TOLD BY MS. JACKSON THAT MAINTAINING MY VIRGINITY WILL HELP ME TO INCREASE MY POWER. I AM TO BE, IN HER WORDS, 'THE FORBIDDEN FRUIT THAT LURES MEN IN, SO WE CAN CRUSH THEM!'"
At the invocation of Leah Jackson's tripe, Britney's nipples hardened to rock. She was obviously quite happy to be the forbidden fruit.
"NEVERTHELESS," she continued, "I HAVE NEVER KNOWN WHAT IT IS LIKE TO HAVE A MAN BETWEEN MY THIGHS. YOU WILL SHOW ME. NOW."
With that, Britney laid down on the bed, and roughly shoved me into her maiden territory. "DON'T WORRY, BY THE WAY--I'VE BROKEN MY MAIDENHEAD MYSELF. I'M NOT THAT INEXPERIENCED!"
As I began to stroke her labia, I realized that this was hardly the worst sentence I could face. Indeed, I realized, as I began to work on her clit, it was very enjoyable.
* * *
Scott Chelgren
I was stunned to feel the body I was in shaking with uncontrollable sobs. What
was going on here?
"Teri," I heard a familiar voice say, "pull it together! They'll hear you!"
"Oh my God, Kelly," said my host, looking up into the teen's eyes. "I killed him! D.X. said to do it if they made me, but--but he was dead!"
"It really looked like it," said Kelly, grimly, hugging Teri--and I--tight. "Oh my God, Teri--I can't believe we killed him!"
The sobbing stopped, and Teri said, shakily, "Even if we did, though, we've got to follow the plan. We've got to trust D.X.--he's dealt with these people. And we all knew this would be war.
"I just didn't think I'd kill one of my comrades."
Abruptly, I retreated into myself. This explained a lot, I realized. D.X. had staged this--he'd told the girls, but he hadn't warned Anon or I. Probably a good idea--our terror was real. That meant we'd fooled the League--
--and the women were on our side! I felt like dancing in the depths of Teri's stomach, but instead, I grabbed the side, and thought as strongly as I could, I'm still alive, Teri.
* * *
Teri Rowland
...st...aliv...ee
It sounded like a bad transistor radio in the back of my mind. I had to focus on it for it to come in.
...still alive. I'm inside you. Teri, can you hear me? I'm in your stomach.
I think I emitted a squeak; whatever the sound I made, it was one I would not soon make again. "Oh my...Scott?"
"What? What the hell's going on? Don't lose it on me..." said Kelly.
I shooshed her, and heard him as clear as day.
I'm alive, Teri. I cast a spell D.X. taught me. I'm still alive.
And my heart leapt. We weren't licked yet.
* * *
D.X. Machina
"That's a hell of a trick to pull. I'm just glad nobody caught it," I said to Ronnie, which was probably impolitic, since she looked to be about four hundred feet tall.
"WELL, YOUR BOY PULLED IT OFF--THANKFULLY, NOBODY ELSE WAS PAYING ATTENTION. IT WAS CLOSE, THOUGH. HE'S GOOD. JUST HOPE HE FIGURES OUT THE GAME NOW."
"He will," I said, gamely. "The person I'm worried about is Sarah."
She had looked bad as she left. None of the women knew the extent of Scott's power, and I knew from Ronnie they were taking Sarah off somewhere else.
I hoped Scott had made contact, but more fervently, I hoped Sarah was okay.
Phase Two of the plan was about to start; I needed everyone safe and sound.
And I worried about Sarah.
She was too gentle for this horrible line of work.
"They called to the mountains and the rocks, 'Fall on us and hide us from the face of him who sits on the throne and from the wrath of the Lamb! For the great day of their wrath has come, and who can stand?'"
--Revelation 6:16-17
"When we call people dogmatic, what we really object to is their holding dogmas that are different than our own."
--Issawi's Law of Dogmatism
"Whenever women have insisted on absolute equality with men, they have invariably wound up with the dirty end of the stick. What they are and what they can do makes them superior to men, and their proper tactic is to demand special privileges, all the traffic will bear. They should never settle merely for equality. For women, 'equality' is a disaster."
--Lazarus Long
Sarah Kensington
League Headquarters
New York, New York
I was dazed.
I knew D.X. had told us to act like we were with the League.
I knew he said that if the League asked one of us to kill one of the men, we must do it, and not flinch.
I knew he said we should trust him, that we had to do this to inculcate ourselves into the League.
But I hadn't counted on Teri--my God! How could she be so cold?--killing Scott.
And eating him.
I vomited, presently, and came up sobbing.
Scott! How could they kill him? It wasn't right, it wasn't fair....
"It's hard, I know," said the woman in the room. "The first time you see it, it's harsh. Especially if you've grown attached to the little guy."
I turned to her. "How the fuck do you know?" I asked, sullenly.
"Look, I've seen it. I've known guys they've done it to. It sucks, but soon you'll realize that it's for the best. If we don't swat the guys down, they'll swat us down. Don't you know that?"
I thought back to my Junior year. My best friend had been raped that year, and another friend had been beat up by her "boyfriend" so badly that she had to call the cops. "They're not all like that. D.X. said...."
"D.X. is a misguided fool, Sarah. He talks romantically about balance, I know. We all want balance. But we know that balance is a disaster for women. Women must be the rulers. The world will be safer then."
"But--but we are just as capable of violence as they are! I mean, Teri--"
The woman smiled. "Teri did what she had to do. We're in a war, Sarah. And war is a cruel, horrible thing. The men have been fighting these for a long time; we have to fight them on their terms. But when the war is over, we'll have a new day, of peace, and serenity, and happiness.
"Look at the world, Sarah. Look at how bad a job men have done with it. Famine, war, violence everywhere. And everywhere--everywhere--women are pushed to the back of the bus. We can hold a job--just don't try for CEO. We can run for political office--just don't run for President. We can play sports--just don't expect a million-dollar signing bonus.
"Sarah, we were cruel to Scott, I'll agree. But when we are done with this war, we'll be able to control the men--and we won't have to worry about them stepping out of line. Don't you want to be in control? Don't you enjoy being in control?"
Mia stood closer, and put her hand on my shoulder. "Sarah...don't you want to live in a world where you have your pick of men to care for and love like you loved Scott? It's not too late, Sarah. You can join us. You can trust us."
I looked into her eyes, and I started to feel that maybe I could. Maybe it was for the best that Scott was gone; he had been nothing but trouble. We could make the world a better place....
In a voice that was not completely my own, I said, "I trust you."
Mia smiled wider, and said, "Tell me, Sarah. What is your group's plan?"
* * *
Anonymous
"LITTLE MAN...THAT WAS AWESOME!"
I was pinned between the left hand of the teen and her breast. In what voice I could muster, I said, "I'm glad you enjoyed it, Mistress Spears."
"YOU CAN CALL ME BRITNEY," she said, huskily. "I THINK I'LL TAKE YOU ON THE ROAD WITH ME. WHEN I START SINGING, THAT IS."
She blathered on about being a Mouseketeer, or something like that, while I tried hard to focus--which is not the easiest thing to do when pinned to a teenage girl's chest. The conversation was facile, as conversations among teens tend to be; I had no desire to get involved further with her. I was, in fact, awaiting a signal. D.X. would be orchestrating our moves shortly. I hoped that we could manage without an Adept.
* * *
Scott Chelgren
"So, what's the plan? When are we going to strike back? And when can I get out of your stomach?" I asked the questions through thought, while leaning against the slippery wall of Teri's stomach. I wished D.X. had taught me more about the morpheus spell. I knew that ultimately, I could change my shape radically, merge with people, even transform into an inanimate object. But for the moment, I was barely able to change from simple organic form to simple organic form. I hoped I'd get a chance to work on this.
"Well," said Teri, "we're to wait for a signal from D.X. Veronica Ceres will come to the room and summon us. Then, hopefully, we'll solve what needs solving and get out of here. As for leaving my stomach--uh...."
"There are only two exits," I said, mirthfully. "I'll leave via either."
I heard a laugh echo from all around me. "I think probably it's quicker to have you leave the way you came in--and more pleasant, to boot. I'll just stick my finger down my throat, and...."
Teri got no further. A huge explosion came from outside, and she stopped talking quickly.
"Claris!" I shouted, quickly viewing the world through Teri's eyes.
President Jackson was there, along with Mia Hamm, and Sarah. "So," said the President, "you thought you could fool us? You thought we wouldn't see through the ruse? Our young friend Sarah has told us of your plan. So sad you would betray womanhood like that. Mia? Annihilate them."
Raise your right hand, Teri, I thought, formulating a plan.
Teri's hand did as I asked. Now tell them you're an Adept, and they'd better back off.
"You'd better back off. I'm an Adept," said Teri.
Mia smiled, and said, simply, "No you're not." With that, she struck.
Parry Block Reduce 500:1
Mia staggered back, unable to stop the shrinking. As she raced towards one inch tall, Teri turned to the President, and said, "Your turn."
* * *
D.X. Machina
"Damn it! Our cover is blown!"
Ronnie Ceres was ashen as she said this. Her computer access was frozen, and her door would not open at her command. "They must have broken Sarah!"
This wasn't good. Our plan had been predicated on stealth--get in, get rid of the tiny people that the League was counting on to repopulate the world, and get out. But with our cover blown--
"We're going to have to fight our way out," I said, growing to full size. "And hope that we can regroup on the outside. I just hope--"
At that moment, the door opened, and Anonymous strode through the door, carrying a six inch tall girl. "Sorry for the delay D.X., but we need to get out of here--I was almost killed by this one," he said, tossing the girl towards the bed. He glanced over at Ronnie. "What the hell is going on?"
"No time to explain. She's with us. As are the girls."
Anon was speechless, then said, "But Scott--"
"--is alive, and if we want him to stay that way, we need to hurry. Ronnie?"
"They're this way. I never thought my tenure with the League would end like this," she said, ruefully.
We moved.
* * *
Teri Rowland
The battle was pitched, though I was only miming my part. Leah Jackson was doing her best to shrink me, and Scott was doing better at shrinking her. When D.X. and Anonymous arrived on the scene, I thought sure we'd won.
By this time, Leah was down to two feet tall, and we were frantically looking for escape routes. "Come on, Sarah!" I said. "We've got to...."
I looked into her eyes, and for a second, I saw something unreal. I could sense that she was not herself, that she herself was buried under a veneer of anger and hatred and sorrow and fear. "You...killed...Scott," she seethed. "Now...you're...going...to...die."
"Sarah, Scott--"
She struck.
* * *
Sarah Kensington
I was not myself; that much is clear.
Why it was I directed my anger at Teri, and not the League, is beyond me. Yes, she had killed Scott. But at the behest of people I thought of as allies, who would kill any and all men if need be.
I wasn't thinking that, though. I saw in her the enemy, and I struck out with something I didn't know I had.
GTS.
She began to shrink instantly, only to pop back up to size. She wasn't showing any exertion, but I could feel her strength ebbing as I pushed my power--power I never knew I had--at her.
I heard D.X. in the back of my consciousness shouting, "We've got to retreat! She's an Adept! Fall back!"
They pulled Teri away, and the five of them--D.X., Anonymous, Kelly, Teri, and one of the members of the League--ran for it.
I broke off my attack, and turned to my friends, Mia and Leah. I restored them, and I knew that soon, I would fulfil my destiny.
* * *
Scott Chelgren
The Roosevelt Hotel
Mid-town Manhattan
The sound of vomiting is far worse when you're being vomited up. I felt like retching myself as I felt the stomach around me convulse, and the level of liquid and sludge inside rise. Suddenly, I was forced upward through the tight passage of her esophagus, and spilled out hard into the sink.
I looked at the enormous face of Teri, as she coughed and sputtered. She was grim.
Slowly, I regained my height, and looked around the room at the grim faces of my comrades.
"Bad day?" I ventured, pulling on a robe. I needed to shower.
"A very bad day," said D.X. "It turns out that we just handed the League an Adept, whose strength equals yours."
"Sarah?" I said, incredulously.
"Yes," said D.X. "They've done a good job of brainwashing her--and I fear they're about to make their move."
"Maybe if you hadn't had me fake killing Scott--"
"Yes, Teri. Maybe. But if this had worked, we could've eliminated the League's greatest threat to us without so much as a stray spell cast. Now, however...things have gotten much worse."
"Well, we have to try to do something," I said. "Maybe if I could reach Sarah, talk to her...."
"Perhaps," said D.X., quietly. "Or perhaps her mind is not quite her own. Remember the lesson of the dorm room in Madison? She was a wonderful girl...and in the end, she had to die, lest she destroy us all."
The room was very quiet. I said, in a voice pinched and choked off, "I can't kill Sarah, D.X."
He looked at me with a weary look, and said, "I never thought I could kill her either, Scott, but things change. You're going to have to train well. The final battle is at hand."
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. "D.X., we know you're in there. Just open the door quietly, and nobody will get hurt."
"The Chairman?" said Anonymous.
"The plot thickens," agreed D.X.
* * *
Sarah Kensington
The room was full of tiny people.
Dozens of terraria, filled with peoples of differing scales, with something called hyperportals connecting them.
The future of our race, Mia called them.
Somewhere inside me, I was revulsed. This was not what I wanted. This would destroy my father, Kyle, D.X., Anonymous...and it would destroy my mother and sister and friends, too.
But the part of me that was calling the shots was fascinated.
"This is not our first choice, mind you," said Mia. "This is Plan B. Plan A...that has come into focus since your arrival."
"You will be our standard bearer," added Leah, "for all womanhood."
I looked into one of the smaller scale terrariums, and asked, "Would it be possible for me to select one of these men? To get to know him? To better prepare for the future?" I didn't know why I asked this. It seemed important.
"Of course," said Leah. "Open the terrarium. Let us select a consort for you."
* * *
John, Son of Maria
The Village of Tasgeni
The Land of Their Followers
The sky parted, and the men and women started to flee.
This was not the first time They had opened the sky to select one of us. Sometimes They brought back the people they took. Sometimes They didn't. We knew from those who returned that Their world was a vast and frightening one, with enormous rooms befitting a goddess.
I had no desire to visit that world.
We fled towards the town square, but a booming voice from above stopped us.
"HAVE YOU LEARNED NO MANNERS, OUR TINY FOLLOWERS? WHEN YOUR GOD DEMANDS AN AUDIENCE, YOU DO NOT FLEE HER."
We stopped in our tracks. Belinda looked skyward, and cried to me, "We are out in the open, my groomsquire. You must hide, I have grown fond of you...."
But a new goddess was reaching for us at that moment. Her fingernails were short and painted red, the color of blood. I screamed, but the great fingers scooped me up and lifted me skyward.
"Belinda!" I cried out. "I will return to you!"
Then, my wifekeeper, growing smaller by the second, called, "I...love you, John! Come back to me!"
It was the first time she had ever talked of love, and I feared it would be the last, as the sky closed beneath me.
The goddess fixed her immense brown eyes on me. She looked young, and she was certainly comely. "TELL ME, TINY ONE," she said. "WHAT IS YOUR NAME?"
"J--John," I stammered.
"JOHN," she smiled. "THAT'S A GOOD NAME. YOU ARE MINE. YOU WILL WAIT HERE." With that, she placed her hand into an enormous chamber below her waist--it seemed to be a pocket, though the walls were stiff, and made of a coarse blue material I had never before beheld.
I sat in the swaying, dark chamber and shivered. I was in the world of the goddesses now.
I was sore afraid.
* * *
V. Koschkei
The Roosevelt Hotel
New York, New York
"What I don't understand, D.X., is why you feel the need to protect the League at all. We should go in, and destroy them, and then the problem is solved!" Szalinsky was nose to nose with Machina, almost daring him to strike out.
"Wayne, what you will never understand is that they have a point. And moreover, what you will never understand is that there are men who agree with that point, who want women in that position. And they shouldn't be denied happiness just because you've got a hard-on for all things male."
"Oh yeah? Well f--"
"Gentlemen, please. We have bigger fish to fry. D.X., Anonymous, Ms. Ceres...if what you've told me is true, then we have to destroy the League, and while we're at it, we have to make sure it doesn't rise again. We're already on a war footing, it should be easy to destroy them."
"I didn't do this to be a traitor," said Veronica Ceres. "You're no more right than they are, you know."
I looked at the former Vice President of the League, and paused. I thought of the crimes commited against women, of the men who had been denied access to GTS. Of the lenghts we had gone to to keep women subservient, the lenghts we had gone to to beat the League.
Would we have gone as far as the League apparently had?
Of course not.
Because for 5,000 years, we'd been so totally in control that we didn't need to do a goddamn thing. I looked at the former Vice President of the League, and said, calmly, "I know."
There was, I think, a gasp from the room. "What the Hell are you saying, Mister Chairman?" said Kopec.
"What I'm saying, Kopec, is that in trying to keep women from enslaving men, we have done much to keep women enslaved. To our great detriment. The League needs to be destroyed--but perhaps the raison d'etre of the League does not. Veronica--I would ask you to join the Cadre. D.X.--I want you back. We can right our wrongs, and we can usher in a new era of cooperation, of friendship--of balance. We can form a new organization dedicated to ensuring stability in the male/female relationship. But first, we must stop the League from destroying the world. Are you with me?"
D.X. was smiling, ever-so-slightly. "If those are your aims, Mister Chairman--I am with you."
Ceres was dubious, but said, "If you back off from this promise, I will fight you...but the greatest danger lies with the League. I'm in."
Only Szalinsky seemed unswayed. "D.X. and Ceres? You trust them?"
I turned to him, and said simply, "Wayne...other than bitch, have you ever done anything constructive for the Cadre?"
I didn't wait for an answer. "It's time to rally the troops," I said.
"Amy felt big and invulnerable, wild and untameable. Nothing could match her, nothing could compete with her, she looked at the toy city sprawled out before her and felt contempt for it. It was a toy for her amusement. And she played rough with her toys."
--Scott Grildrig, Amy Zonn: Beauty Treatment
"I needed to find Sarah, and I had found her. Unfortunately, she had also found me, and I trembled in fear. After all, she stood over four hundred feet tall, and could do with me what she wanted."
--Change for a Twenty-Two
"What a wonderful world it is that has girls in it!"
--Lazarus Long
Sarah Kensington
League Headquarters
New York City
The little man tried his best.
I had set him on my stomach, and told him to stimulate me. And he had run to my clit and did his best to make me happy.
He made me horny. But that's not the same thing.
About twenty minutes later, I was dressed again, and the little man sat on my nightstand. He told me of his homeland, of his wife, Belinda. He told me of a land where women ruled men, and it sounded nice.
And he showed me his scars from the times he had been beaten to be corrected, and his world didn't seem as nice anymore.
I was pondering all of this when Mia came into the room.
"Sarah," she said, grimly, "the time has come."
"For what?" I asked.
She didn't respond at first, then said, "D.X. Machina has rejoined the Cadre, and they are preparing to attack us. We need you to protect the League."
"Me?"
Mia smiled. "You're an Adept--you have powers beyond any of the rest of us. You will have to make a stand against them. Come on, there isn't much time."
I left the tiny man on my nightstand and followed Mia.
* * *
Scott Chelgren
The Roosevelt Hotel
Mid-town Manhattan
We were on the move.
There were ten of us: myself, D.X., Anonymous, Kelly, and Teri; The Chairman, Szalinsky, Kopec, and Spielberg. And of course, Ms. Ceres, our ally-cum-enemy. We were joined by about a dozen others as we entered the hotel lobby--the main complement of the Cadre's shock troops.
We began the walk back towards the League's headquarters. D.X. looked at me, and I gazed back at him. I knew I was going to have to fight, and fight hard--I was the only Adept on our side.
A few blocks away, we heard it. Screaming. People running in terror. We turned a corner, and saw people running away from the epicenter--the headquarters of the League.
She rose up over it beautifully, staring down over the streets of New York like the Goddess she was. She paid no attention to the fleeing people, and instead looked at our advancing regiment.
"YOU SHOULD LEAVE, CADRE," said Sarah, in a booming voice that was all too familiar. "WE WILL DESTROY YOU."
"Sarah!" I shouted, hoping she'd hear me above the din. "Sarah, you don't have to do this!"
But she didn't hear me. We continued advancing, until she took a great step forward. "I WARNED YOU," she said, and with a mighty blow of her foot, she shook the world.
I fell to the ground, my mind racing. "Attack her!" cried D.X. "You have to beat her, or she'll kill us all!"
I rose, and summoning all my strength, I sprinted towards her.
She was achingly beautiful. A goddess, standing astride Times Square like the ruler of the world she could become. She was the angel of Death and the God-Mother of the world rolled into one. I ran toward her bare foot, and grabbed on.
* * *
D.X. Machina
I was experiencing deja vu.
I had been here before--fighting a friend who would destroy the world. This time it was Sarah.
Scott was on her--he would fight her, I knew.
The rest of us had a different battle to fight.
"All right!" I called. "Squad one! Form a line right here and prepare to attack! Work with a/r spells--they won't be expecting them. Hold it...hold it...now!"
Our shock troops ran forward to meet the onrushing League troops. Reality itself bended and warped as age reduction spells met shrinking spells met morphing spells. More than a few of our soldiers were shrunk, and crushed under the feet of young girls who had moments earlier been women; more than a few women were reduced to infants.
Our line was sagging. Soon, the League's heavy hitters would move through the line and attack.
I looked toward Sarah, and saw Scott approaching her knee.
She reached down, and brushed him off, sending him falling towards the ground.
* * *
Scott Chelgren
I quickly adjusted as I fell, knowing full well that, at six feet tall, I couldn't count on the nigh-vulnerability of being tiny. Smaller 1:10000 I thought, and quickly I vanished into the microscopic world, buoyed aloft by air currents. I reached a hard surface, and reversed the spell. I had drifted all the way up to Sarah's waist. I grabbed the band of her jeans, and continued climbing.
* * *
Sarah Kensington
I felt the man on my leg, and brushed him off. Fool. How dare he try to climb me. What did he think he was going to accomplish? I looked down to watch him splatter on the ground, but he was gone.
Gone?
I started to move forward into the fight. I had been ordered to hang back and wait for things to develop, but I couldn't watch my comrades dying. I started toward the battle....
And suddenly, I was not there.
I hadn't expected this, and it took me a moment to realize what had happened. I was in my dorm room in Minneapolis, normal sized. I looked around, trying to regain my bearings. I was a giantess....
Wasn't I? I felt motion on my stomach. The climber was still with me. I grabbed him, and started to fling him away.
* * *
Anonymous
Sarah vanished.
It startled everyone. Had she shrunk? What the deuce was going on?
We didn't have time to ponder though, as the League was upon us. Leah Jackson was squaring off against Koschkei, while I had my hands full with Britney Spears. D.X., meanwhile, was circling Mia Hamm, his eyes filled with a simmering rage.
This was it, the final battle.
* * *
Sarah Kensington
I went to toss the man away, but something stopped me.
I held up, and decided to look upon the person I was condemning to death. Then, I could return to New York, and resume my battle.
I opened my hand, and gazed down on the interloper.
After a moment, I said, "Whoever you are, you would be well-advised to drop this charade. Scott Chelgren is dead, and if you thought I would somehow melt or change at the sight of an impostor, you were sorely mistaken."
The man squeaked, "Sarah, I am Scott, and I'm not dead. Look at me! I am..."
I brought my hands together quickly, but he had disappeared. Instead, he was standing, full-sized, in front of me. "Sarah, for God's sake, I'm not dead! Come on, we have to stop this battle before it's too late!"
"LIAR!" I screamed, and lashed out at him with every ounce of strength I had.
* * *
Scott Chelgren
"He who fights and runs away/Lives to fight another day."
The couplet rang in my head as Sarah cut loose with every ounce of her power. She didn't believe me--and I had no idea how to prove myself. I knew I couldn't parry fast enough...and I knew Sarah had homicidal intentions. So I did the only thing I could do. I took her best shot, and tried to absorb the damage.
She had hit me with a simple shrinking spell, one which would reduce me to a manageable size. This told me immediately that the League had not really given her a formal training, which was fortunate--her brute strength was greater than mine, and if she had training, I would be no match for her.
As it was....
I arrested the spell as I crossed the one millimeter threshhold. I grasped the bond of energy between us, and in my mind, I tugged the string through dimension. We were going places.
* * *
Sarah Kensington
I was in a bar.
It was lunch time. And I was sitting on top of an enormous hamburger.
I was no more than a quarter of an inch tall.
A giant woman reached down for the burger, oblivious to my existence. I quickly grasped for the presence of the one who had done this, and to my surprise, found him grasping for me.
Suddenly, we were off of the hamburger, sitting at a table, full-sized, in the bar.
"I don't want to hurt you, Sarah, but I can't let you go back to New York. Will you please listen to me?"
I reached out, and pushed him into another place.
* * *
Scott Chelgren
I materialized inside a vagina. Quickly, I was covered in a bloody, disgusting discharge.
This was clearly a heavy day.
I coughed and sputtered. "Nice one, Sarah," I said, reminding myself never to offer to explore her during her period (not that she had ever let me). "But it's going to take more than that." We shifted again.
* * *
Sarah Kensington
He was strong, that's for sure. He had more fight than I expected.
I was on a treadmill at a gym. An enormous woman was starting to step on for her workout. I started to parry, and realized that he had simply deposited me here. He wasn't holding me.
A part of my mind was glowing white hot. It was screaming at the part of me that was controlling me.
It couldn't be.
I saw them kill him.
"YOU WON'T TRICK ME!" I said, and with that, I deposited us in at a Dairy Queen, with him in the middle of a chili cheese dog. He was going to be masticated by an enormous, overweight woman with a bit of stubble. I started to bind the spell...and realized he wasn't fighting back.
"I won't fight you anymore Sarah," he said. "D.X. had to kill his love. And that may have been the right thing. But I can't kill you, Sarah. I love you too much. If I have to choose between killing you and allowing you to rule over humanity--well, try to rule well. I will always, always love you."
The woman was getting closer to him. Another bite would do it.
She opened her mouth, and started to bite down. Victory was mine.
Victory....
You wouldn't hurt me, even if you were seven feet tall....
And the scales fell from my eyes and lo, I could see.
"Scott! Hang on, I've got you!"
* * *
Scott Chelgren
I could feel the hot, putrid breath of the woman as she prepared to end my life. And suddenly, the breath turned sweet, and cool.
I looked up, and saw that I stood in the palm of the hand of my love.
She was crying. "OH, SCOTT, I SCREWED UP SO BADLY...."
"Sarah, nothing's irretrevably broken. We can fix this."
"I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD."
"Sarah, have you never watched The Princess Bride?"
She smiled, a beautiful, radiant smile. "DO YOU THINK...DO YOU THINK TWO ADEPTS, WORKING TOGETHER...."
"Yes," I said. "Let's get back to New York."
* * *
D.X. Machina
Sarah reappeared at our darkest moment.
None of the command group had died--yet. But there was no question how the battle was going. The League had eliminated our shock troops, and it was all we could do to stave off the inevitable. And then Sarah reappeared, two hundred feet tall, and I knew the end had come.
"SURRENDER," boomed Sarah.
"Never!" I cried.
"NOT YOU, D.X. ATHENA LEAGUE--YOU HAVE TRIED TO SUBVERT HUMANITY TO YOUR OWN IDEA OF PROPRIETY. YOU HAVE TRIED TO IMPOSE YOUR MORALITY ON THE WORLD. YOU HAVE TRIED TO DETERMINE THE COURSE OF EXISTENCE FOR ALL PEOPLE. YOU HAVE TWO CHOICES: SURRENDER, OR DIE."
And before she got her answer, she was upon them--her hands raised, her eyes closed, power coursing out of her at an impossible rate. Not even an adept wielded that kind of power....
And then I saw Scott, standing proudly on her shoulder, his own eyes closed, his own hands raised. They were working together.
The League fell. One by one, their forces shrank, all the way down to six inches tall.
Sarah walked toward the battle scene. She was her normal height, as was her boyfriend. "I'm sorry," she said, as she walked toward her former compatriots.
We started to gather the League together, when Scott suddenly blinked.
"Where's Leah Jackson?"
We turned, and saw her entering League headquarters.
The battle wasn't over quite yet.
"Many waters cannot quench love; floodwaters cannot overflow it. If someone were to offer all his possessions to buy love, they would be utterly despised."
Song of Songs 8:7
"There were two teams that wanted to win, and when that happens, only one of them can win."
Dennis Green
Love one another, but make not a bond of love:
Let it rather be a moving sea between to shore of your souls.
Khalil Gibran, "On Marriage" from The Prophet
"Don't try to have the last word, you might get it."
Lazarus Long
D.X. Machina
League Headquarters
New York, New York
The halls of League Headquarters seemed cramped.
I had no time to appreciate the grim humor. I was charging pell-mel after Leah Jackson. I knew where she was heading, at least in general.
She was going to trigger Plan B.
Ronnie was right behind me. "Left, D.X., left. It's in the experimental wing. Sci-tech is running it."
We got to a locked door. "Open, Ceres, Authorization Alice 4," barked Veronica.
Nothing happened.
"Shit! They changed my passcode."
"I think I can help," said a winded, five-foot-seven Sarah, sprinting from down the hall. "Stand aside," she said, raising her hand and letting loose with a shrink spell. The door stood up well--it had been enchanted, of course--but it wasn't ever meant to withstand a shrinking spell with the full power and emotion of an adept behind it.
We were through into the chamber. And Leah Jackson was at a workstation, furiously typing commands.
"Sorry guys, you're out of time," she said, wickedly.
"That may be the worst pun I've ever heard," I replied, letting loose with an A/R spell. It staggered Leah backward. She looked up, the picture of an innocent seventh-grader.
"I wouldn't do any more, D.X. I've already started the countdown. Only I can abort the sequence. In eight minutes, nothing around us will have existed for three hundred years. The only survivors will be in this room--and if I have anything to say about it, the only survivor will--be--me!"
She grinned triumphantly, only to disappear.
"Sorry," said Scott. "But she wasn't going to help us anyway. Ronnie--think you can help us figure out how to stop the countdown?"
* * *
Veronica Ceres
I looked at the screen, trying desperately to figure out a way to abort the sequence. But there was nothing. The codes were locked--the time shift would occur in less than six minutes.
"I'm sorry. There's no way to reverse the process. Everything's locked."
"We could shrink the time shifting devices," offered Anonymous.
"No dice. Sci-tech designed them to operate even if reduced a billionfold. The people will be dropped into a coded out world...."
Suddenly, it hit me.
"...unless we change destinations! We can beam them out into space--Leah didn't lock down locales. We can drop the people on Mars, and nobody will get hurt--"
"--except the people, who all die. We can't do that, Ronnie." Sarah was grim.
"If we don't, everyone alive on Earth will die. We can't do that either." Scott was more grim. "Greatest good--we have to kill these people to save everyone else."
"Unless...Ronnie, what would happen if we kept the area low. Right now, it's supposed to cover all of Earth. What if we just dropped them in a ten square meter area in the Middle of Nowhere, Montana?"
"D.X....that's a hell of an idea. Quick, I'll recalibrate."
"Wait!" cried Scott. "Won't they be tiny?"
"Yes, but alive. They'll have a chance. And so will the rest of the world."
"How long do we have?" asked Sarah.
"Three minutes, eight seconds."
"Then I've got to run...there's one more passenger for this train."
* * *
John, son of Maria
The Land of the Goddesses
She ran into the room, looming like the goddess she was. She ran to my prison of glass, and said, simply, "No time to explain, little one. I've got to get you home."
With that, she slid her fingernail under me and lifted me, and as she lifted I felt myself growing, and growing, and growing, until I was as big as her hand.
She smiled down at me. "You must return to your people, and lead them into a new era."
"I am but a man...."
"Dare you question your Goddess? You shall lead them--my mark shall be upon you. Now, come with me!"
I had no choice.
* * *
Scott Chelgren
"Thirty seconds, Sarah, you're cutting it close!"
"Well, he's here. Where's the 288:1 chamber?"
She sprinted towards it, and quickly opened the chamber. She set the man down, and as he dropped, he grew smaller, to scale. "Nice work," I said. "Who is he?"
"A resident," she smiled. "His wife would miss him."
"Ten seconds," said D.X. "I hope to God this works."
A bolt of power shook the room, and we watched, amazed, as the world in the tiny chambers shimmered. Then, suddenly, they were gone.
"Did it work?" I asked, after a few minutes.
"Only one way to find out," said D.X. "Come on."
We walked out of the room, into League headquarters. Then, out into the bright sunshine of a beautiful New York City morning. And something else....
The damage was gone. Sarah's attack seemed never to have happened.
"D.X.--?"
"It's too much for the world to believe--giant women trampling things. And Sarah caused minimal damage. So the people choose to believe it was a brief daydream, and the damage repairs itself. Happened in Madison too. You see...the world as a whole still is unready for GTS. They won't believe it, even when the evidence is right in front of them. But for we fortunate few...it is a wonder."
The sun shone bright on that New York morning. All was right with the world.
* * *
V. Koschkei
The Peace Accord was reached later that day.
We resored the League--they were quite surprised. But it was the only way.
We disbanded both organizations that afternoon. In its place, we formed a new organization. One which would both protect GTS, and keep it from falling into the wrong hands. No more would we fight the images. No more would we try to stop the websites.
No more would we battle the League.
I would remain on the board of the Growth Triumphant Society, but I would not chair it. Nor would D.X., though he was strongly recommended. In the end, the new chair could not have been more surprised.
"I can't believe you trust me with this. I mean--after Madison...."
"...Yes, Ronnie, it's after Madison. And it's time we let go the past. Besides, you proved your loyalty to the greater world." D.X. sighed. "It's time we forgave each other. I mean, the Cold War is over. Maybe it's time for the GTS war to be over too."
And so that day--Thursday, November 13, 1997--would be immortalized. Though few would ever know it, it was as important as the fall of the Berlin Wall. It was the end of the war.
* * *
Epilogue
Sarah Kensington
D.X. and Teri got married later that year. There's something about facing death together that brings two people closer, and it was a beautiful ceremony. I was a bridesmaid, along with Kelly. Scott was a groomsman, and John "Anonymous" Smith was D.X.'s Best Man. And to everyone's surprise, the former Chairman officiated.
Kelly ended up majoring in Political Science. She worked on a Mayoral campaign in Minneapolis this year, and she's hoping to build enough connections that she can someday run for office herself. Oh, and unsurprisingly, she had no problem finding love...perhaps someday she can tell that story. It's a doozy.
Leah Jackson, the former President of the Athena League, materialized in the shoe of a five-year-old girl. She tried to move, only to find herself welded to the sole. Scott's curse was ingenious, especially since he thought of it on the fly. As the shoes were discarded, she found herself materializing in the bra of a sixty-nine year old woman, and then she became one with an eleven-year-old's braces. Last we checked, she was part of Mia Hamm's sock--not that Hamm remembered her time with the League anymore. The Society is considering freeing Ms. Jackson...someday....
Claire's screenplay never did get developed into a movie--not that it matters much. The special effects budget was out of sight, and besides, reading about it was almost as good.
John, son of Maria, returned to his people, seven feet tall by their scale. Their world has moved, and they are besieged by many strange creatures, but they are fighting together--men and women--and they will be just fine. As for me, I graduated last spring, magna cum laude, with a double major in English and Sociology. Which is why I went immediately to Law School. I'm a one-l at Hamline School of Law...and I'm questioning my sanity right about now. Especially since I have a job anytime I want it with D.X. and Scott.
What? You're wondering what happened with Scott and I?
I'll let him tell you.
* * *
Scott Chelgren
Sarah has been kind enough to let me finish the story I started a long time and a different world ago. And I am grateful for the opportunity. After all, it's been a wild ride, and I never expected this when I picked up a copy of Magick at Magus Books.
It wasn't always easy for Sarah and I, after the New York incident. She and I were both more powerful than we could've ever guessed. It wasn't easy, like it was when she loomed over me. Well, she still did, most of the time. I didn't leave her dorm room for quite some time after we got back to Minnesota. Which was nice. Very nice.
But our relationship had been irrevocably altered, and we might not have made it.
But one night, in January of 2000, we were walking outside across the bridge over the Mississippi. I was full-sized, as was she.
We paused as we reached the midpoint of the bridge, the Weisman ahead of us, the Carlson School behind us, the bitter January wind whipping through our souls. "Scott," she said, quietly, "I love you."
I smiled at her, and somewhere in the back of my mind, a spark was ignited. The problems we had--they were normal, everyday, mundane problems. With a strange backdrop, undoubtedly--but I loved her. Would love her always.
There would be no more running. I dropped to my knees, and before I knew what I was happening, I found myself reciting an old poem by Ogden Nash, one I had forgotten I knew. It was about happiness--and finding it where your love was.
Its last lines are "Let none, not even you, disparage/Such a valid reason for a marriage."
We were married in July--it's too hot, but we didn't want to wait forever. My wife--Sarah Kensington-Chelgren--was beautiful. Mira even came, with her new boyfriend. He's a nice guy.
We've been together now but six months, and it's not always easy, but it never is. I'm working with the G.T.S., and D.X. and I are working on some other, special projects.
It's been a nice change.
Oh, I still shrink, and explore Sarah. We'll never stop that, I suppose. Sometimes she smiles, and I see her back as she was the day I met her--immense, beautiful, young. And sometimes, I see her as she will be decades from now, when her youth has passed. And she'll still be beautiful.
Mostly, when I look at her, I see forever.
I miss the early days, but not much. They were fun...but in the end, two people can't stay together if one is dependent on the other. Well, maybe they can...but it's not as rewarding.
So as I write this, curled up in Sarah's cleavage, I know that change would most definitely not do me good. I can lie here, and feel the rythm of her breath, and the beating of her heart...and I know that this is the place I am supposed to be.
I have lost the need to change. And that is a wonderful thing.