The Shrink Act Files

Name: Taylor, Howard H.

Department: Human Relations

Division: Research

Position: Analyst

Additional Notation: Promising candidate for associate’s program.  Served one (1) year in current position and nine (9) in the corporation altogether.  Special commendation for work on projects involving the ethical use of size-alteration devices on human beings.

 Report 1: Preliminary Findings

            As some or most of the subject matter covered in this report may lead to the revelation of information uncomfortable to the higher-ups of the Techilogic Corporation, please be aware that certain parts of it may be adapted or entirely omitted upon completion, both for my own protection and the protection of those giving personal accounts within.

            This project is of an exploratory nature and will primarily draw its resources from firsthand accounts over what I anticipate will be a span of time measuring at least a year.  These reports will mostly serve to provide a personalized view of the recently evolved phenomena of the Matter Reduction Device, or what is fondly referred to as Techilogic’s golden goose.

            In response to any who may question my pseudoscientific approach to this report: simply put, in all of the legal procedure that this national debate on the Matter Reduction Device has become, I deemed it worthwhile to remember the significance of the human condition to something as intimate as having one’s body size physically changed, often against one’s will.

            First, a little background on the device, or the MRD as it is called in shorthand, is in order.  As anyone in the practical research facilities of the corporation will tell, and usually with more than a little indignation, the title is something of a misnomer.  The device does indeed technically reduce objects in size, though the science behind it is not actually making matter itself smaller.  Nevertheless, for purposes of a layman’s understanding, the name will stand for this report.

            Given that the device doesn’t allow objects to be grown past their original size after being reduced, I suspect a similar function to allow objects to expand was once under consideration, for the potential benefits in combatting world hunger, but it was quickly scrapped for the obvious dangers it would pose to the public at large should the wrong parties get their hands on it for use as a weapon.  As it is, I have my suspicions that certain groups overseas have illegally acquired one or more MRDs for use as weapons, though fortunately, the intensive security procedures, registration, and tracking required to own and operate them have prevented any large-scale conflicts from arising.

            The device is useful on both organic and inorganic matter, including items such as clothing or food and even complex machinery like cell phones or computers, making it more feasible to shrink and transport those under legal tender of their assigned MRD.

            This report has become necessary now, of course, in light of the new legislation passed this spring known as the Reduction and Rehabilitation Act, also dubbed “The Shrink Act,” which put into action a system of size-changing reclamation as a means to resolve any conflicts ranging from personal wrongdoings to criminal activity.

            Techilogic has gone to great lengths to stay within legal limits and keep themselves and the public users safe.  The device has been available as a personal disciplinary method for nearly ten years now and has been in general public use for twenty.  The process for acquiring one has always been tightly stringent since it was introduced, but the exponentially increased attention has put these measures back into question.  As has been heavily covered in both the news and court proceedings, a sampling of which will be included in the notations of this report, the device only becomes available on certain targets after a lengthy process of interview and background checks, along with a laundry list of consequences for misuse.  Of course, as many would say, the limits for what might be considered “misuse” of the device is loose at best once the pre-requisites have been met, and the subject has been hotly debated for the better part of a decade.

            Judy Stevens, who it is rumored is planning on making her bid for a Senate seat in the near future, is of course the original face of this law, though it has since expanded across the nation and taken on a life of its own.  Interestingly, Ms. Stevens has no direct connection to Techilogic, though I suspect the corporation will be contributing heavily to her upcoming political campaign.  Her personal involvement instead came mostly from her family being involved in the very first “house arrest” style of rehabilitation under the umbrella of The Shrink Act.

            As more extensive notes on the case will be included as an addendum to this report, the account does not require elaboration here, but the story of twenty-one-year-old Scott Stevens, son to Ms. Stevens, has caused a massive uproar in the debate.  After nearly killing a woman while drunk driving and terminating her pregnancy, Mr. Stevens has been under house arrest at a maximum of twelve inches tall that can be modified at any time by anyone living in the house, with his mother fully in charge of his formal rehabilitation.  The courts are still out on projecting an end date for Mr. Stevens’ shrunken incarceration, but as he has, by all accounts of Techilogic and Mrs. Stevens, been making progress, there is likely no immediate end in sight for him.

            This first successful case has been the lynchpin in swaying the states still in committee on the matter.  As a result, we’ve seen an influx of similar laws across the nation, most of which were almost immediately passed in their respective states, and the twenty-two states remaining are primarily debating the specifics of the law rather than its validity.  The most prominent utilization of the law so far has been in the prosecution of criminal cases as a replacement for prison incarceration to offer a more balanced environment for rehabilitation and to save the taxpayers untold millions.

            This, of course, is no longer the only use for it.  The law is also applicable by any household where children are labeled as dependents, businesses where employees are under contract to comply, private schools where students have signed waivers, as well as a few other ancillary cases.

            Indeed, America has taken readily to Techilogic and Mrs. Stevens’ philosophy on alternatives to character healing that, supposedly, are only of the utmost benefit both to the shrunken subjects and to their handlers in developing better citizens, strengthening interpersonal relationships, and most importantly, in correcting wrongful behavior.

            Opponents of the MRD, of which there are many, have a variety of arguments in their repertoire, ranging from interpretations of civil rights of the shrunken subjects to the inherent moral obligations of those who must care for them.  Then there are a host of legal questions on responsibility and disciplinary rights that haven’t had to be addressed until size-changing became so widespread.

            A common argument as well for opponents of the device is the bringing up of what most households in America euphemize as “The Carly Incident.”  For clarification, this event, which took place thirty-five years ago this year, is well-known as the period when a teenage girl named Carly Arton kept her brother Jack Arton as her prisoner after he was inadvertently shrunken by exposure to a very specific chemical cocktail only briefly available on the market and followed by an electric catalyst.  His capture was only ended by the intervening of his cousin, who used a similar homemade mixture to reduce Ms. Arton down to the same height as her brother.

            Additional specifics need not be elaborated on here, as this well-documented account will also be attached to the report, but suffice it to say the heinous torture Mr. Arton sustained during his entrapment in his sister’s possession, which lasted very close to five complete years, has made for a difficult case for the Techilogic Corporation to bypass in its efforts to popularize the MRD, despite how long ago it took place, and indeed, taking place prior to the invention of the actual device.  Claims against Techilogic’s rationale generally focus on both the seemingly innocuous chemicals with which Mr. Arton was reduced in size to approximately three inches in height, as well as the abject cruelty Ms. Arton was able to inflict on her victim with total impunity.

            Generally, Techilogic’s response is quick to remind opponents that, as was later discovered, the combination of chemicals used to crudely reduce Mr. Arton and Ms. Arton down to size were not cleared for production in the particular commercial format in which they appeared, and the companies responsible have since been shut down, and as is obvious, there have been no other reported cases of “homemade” chemical tactics in reducing personal size.  I admit my own personal suspicions on the matter, but of course those records are sealed to all but the highest of Techilogic.

            As a defense against those who claim that there are criminal loopholes in use of the MRD, the corporation stands by its statement that the security of the device prevents any unauthorized person from taking possession of others, as was the case in the previously discussed account.  They say that without the chemicals available any longer, and the hardware of the MRD designed to shut down if tampered with to prevent foul play, that all risks are alleviated.  Again, I have my suspicions that Carly Arton is not the only person to have ever used size-alteration to commit such crimes, but is simply the one that Techilogic was unable to keep covered up due to the media firestorm it created over three decades ago.  I would be unsurprised, and frankly I suspect many would be as well, to discover that Techilogic is willing to do just about anything to defend its trillion-dollar image, including silencing stories they find unsavory.  Regardless of my predictions, though, there is no proof for such an idea.

            In response to the claim that Ms. Arton was able to so easily keep up her façade, Techilogic has a line of acclaimed psychologists and analysts from across two decades on record testifying to the absolute insanity gripping the young woman back then, and that her choices and personality when in control of a reduced person are not at all an accurate portrayal of when the MRD is used correctly for good.

            In essence, Techilogic claims that the MRD is conducive only to peaceable human interactions that will lead to effective rehabilitation and cooperation among shrunken subjects and their caretakers alike.

            In this report, I will endeavor to discover if Techilogic is right about that.

           Report 2: The Edwards Family, Interview 1: Kitty Edwards

  I began the process of acquiring primary sources today.  My first stop was in a suburb a few miles out of the main city limits, in a home previously owned by Mr. Dale Edwards and Mrs. Kitty Edwards, though in effect the residence is maintained only by Mrs. Edwards, who insisted on being referred to as Kitty rather than be connected to her husband’s name.

            A little background on the case is in order before presentation of the interview content.  Dale Edwards was an alcoholic and addict with a number of petty theft charges to his name.  Three years ago he took most of the savings he and his wife had built up by over eleven years of marriage working three jobs between them and left the state without a trace.  He was caught six months ago trying to steal from a convenience store cash register, cleaned out of most of the money he took, and was returned to his home state.  Shortly after a similar Shrink Act was passed here, the court rendered Dale Edwards down to a height ranging between one and eight inches tall and put him back in the services of his former home, with the willing cooperation of Kitty and her daughter, so that he may in part begin to pay back the debt he owes his family and society.

            Today, I delivered the first of hopefully multiple interviews with Kitty about her domestic experience operating under The Shrink Act, as well as Mr. Edwards himself and their thirteen-year-old daughter Gemma.

            This was not a case that garnered much media attention, given that it was begun shortly after the practice of MRD prosecution was popularized.  In fact, readers of this report may be mostly unfamiliar with the case without a cursory Google search.  This is intentional on my part.  For the purpose of authenticating this report as documenting average Americans affected by The Shrink Act, I intend to primarily rely on events representing the lesser known general populace, rather than just the infamous ones such as the Scott Stevens case.  Having said this, readers would most likely be familiar with Kitty through her YouTube channel, which will be elaborated on later.

            As I pulled into the driveway, I was struck by something odd.  Most of the houses in the surrounding area appeared to have been built over sixty years ago if not longer, with obvious signs of degradation.

            The Edwards house showed no such damage, and in fact looked almost brand-new, with almost every possible exterior refurbishing visible.  This surprised me, given the obvious fiscal blow Dale Edwards dealt his family three years ago, and was a point I followed up on in the interview.

            Although I had originally planned to use only particularly relevant quotations from my interviews with members of the household, having completed my first visit with them at time of writing, I have decided a more effective and informative impact will be made by leaving the interviews in their unedited format.  As a representative of the Techilogic Corporation and for ease of reading, my identity in the transcript will be labeled as “TC.”

            My first interview with Kitty took place in her living room.  It was small but the furniture, like the exterior, looked brand new and included several leather chairs and mahogany tables.  Kitty herself seemed to be in high spirits.  Based on my records, she is 45 years of age and has worked as a secretary for over two decades, and occasionally as a waitress.  Her hair was dark and let down around her shoulders, and from the observations I could make, her attire was apparently purchased from a more well-to-do clothing line.

TC: Thank you for agreeing to this interview, Mrs. Edwards.

Kitty: You’re welcome.  And it’s Kitty.  Please call me Kitty.

TC: Fair enough, Kitty.

Kitty: And what do I call you?

TC: Just Howard is fine.  Now, if you’re ready, we can get started.

Kitty: Fire away, Howard.

TC: How would you describe your experience being among the first families to be impacted by The Shrink Act?

Kitty: (laughs) It’s wonderful.  We’ve been getting on so much better ever since Dale came back to us.

TC: I’m glad to hear that.  Could you maybe describe for me the ways in which your living situation has changed since then?

Kitty: It is a lot different.  My daughter and I have to keep a closer watch on the ground to make sure we don’t kick Dale around too much.  Normally I leave him at eight inches so it’s not as risky.  It’s also the best way to make sure he can be productive while he’s working here for us.

TC: Productive?

Kitty: Yes.  I told him this and I’ll tell you too.  He may still be married to me, but he’s no husband of mine, and as far as I’m concerned, he’s no father to Gemma, though I leave it to her to decide that.  So, I keep him busy all day.  He gets to eat, sleep, and have a roof over his head, so he’s got to work for it.  Nothing too complicated; it’s easy enough for even him to figure out.  Dusting, scrubbing, cleaning up trash.  That kind of thing.

TC: Interesting.  How does he take to that?

Kitty: (laughs) Well, he didn’t take to it at all when we first brought him home.  He sat in the middle of the floor with his little arms crossed and told me if I thought he was going to be some slave to a bitch like me then I had another think coming.

TC: I see.  And how was that matter resolved?

Kitty: I’ll tell you how.  I kicked off my shoes, walked right up to him, and squeezed his little pencil neck between a couple of my pretty lil’ toes.  And I told him to get it through his head as fast as possible that he didn’t have to like it, because I don’t much care for him either, but he was working for me now, and if he didn’t shape up I could make things much more interesting for us both.

TC: How did he respond?

Kitty: He didn’t at first, because I put the rest of my foot on him and pinned him to the carpet just to make sure the message sunk all the way in.  Dale was never one to comprehend things quickly enough for my tastes.

TC: Interesting.  Did he warm up much to his duties after that?

Kitty: Well, I can’t say it was immediate, but you can be darn sure he listened to what I told him to do after that, and quick-like.  He may be a dumb idiot, but he knows when he’s beaten.  Of course, I still do it here and there.  Just to make sure he remembers who’s the boss now.

TC: Would you mind sharing in what ways you accomplish that?

Kitty: Not a wit.  Sometimes I’ll give him a few little love taps with my toes while he’s walking around, just to let him know balance is a privilege.  Or I’ll just pick him up and give him a reminder what it feels like to have to rely on someone to keep safe.  Oh, and I just remembered!  I saw one of those little investigative thingies a while back.  You know, on the news.  Anyway, they were talking a little about that lady.  Oh, what was her name?  You know.  The one who started the Shrink Act up?

TC: Judy Stevens.

Kitty: Yeah, her.  Anyway, they were talking about her and her boy.  Her son, the one who… ran over that poor, poor woman and her baby, God rest its dear little soul.  And they talked about one way she’s been making up for him not going to jail is by… well, wearing him.  Under her feet.  In her shoes.

TC: I believe I’ve heard that statement before about her too.

Kitty: Yeah.  Anyway, that idea just tickled me so much.  It sounded so perfect for somebody who’s done what he’s done, and then I thought, hey, I’ve got Dale.  Why not try a little experiment myself?

TC: I see.  Go on.

Kitty: So I gave Dale a little surprise by putting him down to two inches.  He didn’t take kindly to that, but he took it even less kindly when I picked him up and dropped him into my favorite house slippers.  And then put ‘em on.

TC: Those slippers you’re wearing now?

            Here, Kitty lifted her leg up in the air and rotated her ankle to show off her house slippers.

Kitty: Yep, these.  He’s not in there right now, of course, he’s upstairs working.  But I’ll be damned if it wasn’t a hell of a lot of fun feeling him squirm around under my toes.  Sorry, can I say those words?  Don’t want to be rude for your interview and study-thingy.

TC: It’s fine, don’t worry about it.  Continue, please.

Kitty: Right-o.  So yeah.  That’s the main way.  I don’t do it all the time, but if he’s woken up on the wrong side of the bed or got some lip on him, I’ll usually give him the morning off from chores and give him a ride in my slippers, or in my sneakers if I’ve gotta make a run to the supermarket.  I’ve put him in my socks a couple times, too, which is a real ball.  And usually that gentles him down enough to want to do his chores good and fast when we get back and I let him out.  Course, he’s usually dizzy enough after that it takes him a couple minutes to figure it out, but I’m a patient woman.  Mostly.

TC: Fascinating.  So you’ve found, then, that it’s an effective method of rehabilitation?

Kitty: You could say that.  Dale used to be something of a loudmouth.  And boy, did he have a temper.  He never hit me or anything, but he sometimes used to come back in a drunken rage and knock stuff over and leave me to clean it up.  Plus, his drugs, he’d just leave sittin’ around.  Like he didn’t even care we could see ‘em.

TC: But now?

Kitty: (laughs) Now, he’s a totally changed man.  Sure, we still have our hang-ups sometimes, but time away from the drink and dope has made him a much clearer thinker, and of course he can’t steal things anymore neither.  He’s helping around the house almost without complaint now, and it’s never looked better.  No more big rages either, just little tantrums, which I admit I kinda find cute sometimes, especially once I’ve got his neck between my toes and I’m sliding him inside a shoe.  Gotta love it.

TC: I was actually going to ask about the house next.  It looks great.  Very tastefully done.

Kitty: Thank you!

TC: I was wondering if you might elaborate on the house for me?  From an economic standpoint, you were…

Kitty: Ohhh right.  Yes, yes, yes.  I see where you’re going.  Yes, the house.  It used to a be a real pigsty like a lot of the places you see around here.  We’ve had almost everything redone in here now.  Furniture, floors, paints, lights, AC, and more.  And it’s almost all thanks to Dale being back.

TC: Interesting.  And I would guess that’s had something to do with your YouTube channel?

Kitty: (laughs) You’ve done your homework, Howard.  Yes, I run a YouTube channel called Kitty’s Corner for Bigs and Littles.  Dale, I guess you could say, runs it too, but he’s not quite big enough to be able to handle the keyboard.  Not that I think he’d want to, either.  Anyway, the channel’s been a huge, huge success.  Bigger than I’d have ever thought.  The ad revenue I’ve received has just blown me away.

TC: And I believe it just crossed the one million subscribers mark not long ago, unless I’m mistaken.

Kitty: Yep.  One million, fourteen thousand, three hundred, and sixteen as of an hour ago.  I’m over the moon.

TC: I’m sure you are.  Congratulations.  Could you elaborate a bit on what it’s all about?

Kitty: I’d love to.  It’s a channel where I can vlog with little ol’ Dale by my side.  Or under me. Whatever I’m in the mood for.  We get into all kinds of fun activities together, and then I post it for people to see and enjoy.

TC: And how do your viewers take that?  The use of him in the videos, I mean.

Kitty: They know all about Dale and the kinds of shit he’s pulled… sorry, more filthy words… but anyway, they know all about it, and I guess for them it’s a kind of… I don’t know, what’s the word?  Not a revenge fantasy.  It starts with a “c.”  Cat-tart, or… or…

TC: Catharsis.

Kitty: Yes! Exactly that.  I know it might sound a little mean to someone at first, but I also use the channel to bare my soul and let them know what Gemma and me have been through.  How we’re just trying to rebuild and make sure Dale knows he can’t hurt anyone else ever again.  I’m rough with him, sure, but people know why and I think they get a kick out of our shenanigans.

TC: What kinds of shenanigans would those be?

Kitty: You name it.  I tried a couple videos where I filmed Dale riding around in my shoes, and he had to try to wrestle his way out.  He almost made it when I wore my peep-toes, but I’m not quite one to let him win things, so that’s why it was an “almost.”  People loved that.

TC: I see.  What else?

Kitty: Let’s see… oh, I can think of one.  I was real pleased with this one, especially because I had my subscribers vote on it and they were all real enthused for it.  I played Chubby Bunny with him.  You know, where you have a bunch of marshmallows and have to stuff ‘em in your mouth one by one and keep saying “Chubby Bunny” without letting them all fall out or get swallowed.  Well, I did that, except Dale was… the first marshmallow I put in.

TC: Wow.

Kitty: Right?  Made him an inch and tucked him in nice and deep to my cheek so he wouldn’t fall down my throat, and then went to town on the marshmallows.  It was a real hilarious lookin’ time, I’m sure.  The viewers loved it and it was the one that went viral and made my channel what it is, so I’m guessing if you looked up my channel, you’ve heard of it?

TC: I have, yes.  I watched it.  Very representative of your channel’s content, I’d say.

Kitty: I’m not afraid to make fun of myself sometimes, and I think that helps people see I’m just a mother trying to make her way with her daughter and correct somebody’s crimes.  You know?

TC: I do, yes.  And your work with the channel paid for the house, you’re saying?

Kitty: Yep.  Of course, a lot of it goes to paying back Dale’s debts.  This is part of how he’s making peace with the world, not just us.

TC: All through ad revenue?

Kitty: That, and the donations.  I started a Paypal not expecting much, but people have really taken to it.  That’s actually where most of it came from, and was how I was able to set up all this nice stuff while still putting payments in for the money he owes.  Of course, I thanked them all in a video and got to model some of it with Dale.

TC: That was good of you.  One more thing I’m curious about with the YouTube channel.  I’m not totally familiar with the legal process of your particular case, but I would gather that including Dale in some more… compromising positions in your videos is totally protected by The Shrink Act?

Kitty: I wondered that at first too, and checked it out with the lawyer before I got the fun started on the channel.  She told me to not worry about it and just have us some fun.  She said it varies from case to case, but in ours, Dale can’t refuse publicity for himself.  He doesn’t have to say anything, but he has to be in the videos if I want.  So she said to go have a good time with him, and as long as he’s not real hurt by anything on the camera, it’s totally fine.  And he’s not.  Not on his body, anyway.

TC: Very interesting.  It’s good it’s worked out that way, then, for the success of your channel. 

Kitty: You have no idea, Howard.

TC: I’d say that about finishes up this part of my visit.  I don’t want to take up too much of your time.  I was hoping, also, I could ask you about a follow-up interview I’d like to do sometime down the road, possibly from within six months to a year?

Kitty: Oh, absolutely.  Just let me know when and I’ll be ready here.

TC: Excellent.  I appreciate it.  Now, I did want to ask your permission for one more thing.

Kitty: Of course.  What’s that?

TC: I wondered if I might have the chance to speak to your daughter Gemma, and to Dale?

Kitty: Both are fine with me personally.  No problem.  I leave it up to Gemma whether she wants to talk or not to you, but I’d bet my boots she’s perfectly willing.  She’s a talker, like me.  She sometimes helps out with a couple of the videos if I’m not doing anything too wild with Dale.

TC: Thank you very much.  Where could I find them both?

Kitty: Well, Gemma was up in her room last I checked, and Dale was doing some dusting on the upstairs railing.  If I know Gemma, though, she’s probably… interrupted her daddy’s progress.

TC: Interrupted, huh?

Kitty: You’ll see soon enough.  I don’t mind if she does, because he can always make up the chores later, and besides, like I said, I leave up to her if she wants to spend time with him.  And would you mind if I sat in for the talks with them?

TC: Not at all.  You’re welcome to join in too if you have anything to add to the comments.

Kitty: Well, fantastic.  C’mon, I’ll show you to Gemma’s room.

TC: Thanks, Kitty.

Report 2: The Edwards Family, Interview 2: Gemma and Dale Edwards

            Kitty Edwards led me upstairs to her daughter’s bedroom, which was closed, locked, and decorated with a bright pink poster of a pop star riding the Top 40 airwaves.  After Kitty knocked and asked to come in, Gemma, the thirteen-year-old daughter of Kitty and Dale, let us in and hopped back onto her bed.  The room, like the door, was a tribute to the color pink and the music giants of soft rock and country.  Dale himself was not in sight, leading me at first to believe that he was off somewhere else cleaning.

            It only took one question from her mother for Gemma to agree to the interview.  She appeared a tad shy at first but soon took more easily to the process.  Kitty took a seat on the window sill and offered me a swivel chair next to a desk with a purple laptop, which I accepted and readied my notes while Gemma settled in against the wall on the opposite side of her bed and combed her hair.

TC: Hi, Gemma.  It’s good to meet you.  My name’s Howard.

Gemma: Hi.

TC: Mind if I get a little information about you before we jump into my questions?  Anything you want to share about yourself.

Gemma: So just like my school and stuff?

TC: Anything.

Gemma: Okay.  Um, I’m thirteen and I’m in eighth grade at St. Carol’s down the road there.  I’m going to the public high school next year, but Mom says maybe her YouTube will help pay for me to go to a better one, like, the year after that.  And I’m into music.

TC: Interesting.  Now, just to make sure you understand, I don’t want you to feel like you have to answer everything I ask.  If anything makes you uncomfortable at all, just say you don’t want to answer and we’ll go on, no question.  Deal?

Gemma: Deal.

TC: All right.  Can you just tell me how things have been since your dad came back?  Or, if you’d rather I call him Dale, I…

Gemma: I call him Dad.

TC: Okay.  So how have things been with your dad?

Gemma: Pretty cool.  At first I didn’t think I’d, like, want him back in the house after what he did to us and some other people, but now I like it.  He’s little and can’t cause any more trouble, just like Mom says.  And he helps out with, like, chores in the house and stuff.

TC: That’s good to hear.  What about from a personal standpoint?  Has having him back affected your relationship with him much?

Gemma: Oh, yeah.  I wasn’t ever, like, real close with him before he left because of all his… problems, and stuff.  I used to be, like… kinda scared of him, really.  But not anymore.  And it’s helped me know him a lot better.

TC: How so?

Gemma: Well, Mom says he’s not allowed to say no to stuff we say, because he has to earn his keep and work back all the money he stole.  And I figure since he’s here to try and fix himself, part of that should be with how much he knows me.  So I hang out with him sometimes.

TC: Hang out?

Gemma: Yeah.  He’s real fun to have around.  He, like, paints my nails for me and stuff.

TC: Really.  Sounds useful.  Just anytime you ask?

Gemma: Mostly.  The first time I asked, he wasn’t so nice about it.

Kitty: (to Gemma) Tell him about it, honey.

Gemma: (to me) Do you want to hear about that?

TC: If you’re willing to tell it, yes.

Gemma: Okay.  Well, it was a couple days after he got here, and my toes were, like, in real bad need of a pedi, so I asked him really nice to come into my room so I could show him how to do it right.  And he told me to go and… well, I don’t think I can say it in front of Mom.

Kitty: It’s okay, honey.  It’s for the interview.

Gemma: Oh.  Um, okay.  He told me to go and… fuck myself.

TC: I see.  And how did you respond?

Gemma: Well, like, I’m not allowed to use the Matter Reduct-o gun thing until I’m, like, sixteen, so I just went and got Mom to do it, and made him an inch.  And then I just, like, laid my foot on his little body real carefully and told him he had one more chance to apologize and then do my nails or we were gonna have problems.

TC: Did that work?

Gemma: (laughs) He said sorry and he’s never complained again about jobs I give him.  I still sometimes do it, though, cuz it tickles when he’s under there.  Put my foot on him, I mean.  I like putting him between my toes, too.  He makes a good separator if I just feel like painting my nails myself.  It kinda takes a while to do them all if he does it himself.

TC: I see.

Gemma: I promise, I wasn’t gonna, like, squish him or anything.  I just wanted him to get the idea that I’m in charge and stuff.

TC: I understand.  And you’d say things like that have changed your relationship with him?

Gemma: Yeah, totally.  Dad’s so much nicer to me now that he gets how stuff works around here for him.  No more, like, cussing me out or anything.  He tells me I’m pretty and likes to listen to music with me.

Kitty: (to Gemma) Tell him about your date.

Gemma: (to me) Do you want to hear about my date?

TC: Absolutely.

Gemma: Okay.  Well, this guy named Todd from school asked me out for bowling and stuff, and Dad, like, wasn’t so crazy about him and didn’t like that I was going by myself, and wanted to know if he could, like, come along to check on me sometimes.

TC: And what did you say?

Gemma: I said yes, and since he gets to leave the house once a week, I put him in my purse and let him ride along while Mom dropped us off at the alley.  It was a lot of fun, and I let him out to have some fries at the stand.  He said he was happy I let him come to make sure I was, like, okay.

TC: I see.  It was nice of you to include him like that.

Kitty: He’s lucky to have a daughter like her.  I bet most girls your age wouldn’t be so nice, honey.

Gemma: Probably not.  But he’s not coming on the next one.  It made Todd nervous last time.

TC: And what about him as a person?  Would you say he’s been improved by his time here?

Gemma: I think so.  He can’t do, like, bad stuff anymore now that he’s with us and he’s paying back all the money he owes with Mom’s YouTube.  He used to steal from people and, like, deal with some scary people.  He was… scary to people.  Like I said.  But not anymore.

TC: How so?

Gemma: He can’t hurt people anymore.  And he’s still learning how to behave better.  I’m making sure of that.

TC: How are you doing that?

Gemma: Well, like right now.  He didn’t cuss, but he kinda sass-mouthed me, so I had to, like, teach him a lesson.

TC: Where is he?

            At this point, Gemma slid further forward on the bed and pointed to a shoe box on the floor.

Gemma: In there.

TC: In the shoe box?

Gemma: Yeah.  My favorite pink converse got some mud on them from when I was, like, walking yesterday, and I told him to clean it out with his hands cuz his tiny itty bitty fingers are way better at, like, getting stuff out than mine.

TC: And how did he respond?

Gemma: He said he’d do it but he needed something better to clean them with or it wasn’t going to work, he wouldn’t be able to get all the mud.

TC: I see.  And?

Gemma: I knew he was just stalling, so I asked him one more time, and he repeated himself at me.  Like I’m stupid or something.

TC: That must’ve upset you.

Gemma: No kidding it did.  So I put the shoes back in the box, and him in the box, and then told him he can come out when the mud’s all out.

TC: Interesting.

Gemma: Don’t worry.  I, like, poked holes in the side.  He can breathe and stuff.

TC: How do you think it’s going in there?

Gemma: I don’t know.  We can, like, check on him if you want, but he’s still gotta finish his job.

TC: I understand.  I’d actually like to be able to interview him too, if possible.

Gemma: Oh, okay.  I guess he’ll just have more to do later.  Time to come out, Dad!

            Here, Gemma lifted the shoe box to the bed and removed the lid, and then her father, who stood at six inches tall at the time, by plucking him by the back of his shirt.  He made no audible response as she did so and placed him on her right thigh.  Dale is bald with a short goatee, and slightly underweight.  He looked up briefly at me once he regained his balance, but his gaze quickly shifted back to his shoes again.

TC: Hello, Mr. Edwards.

Gemma: (after a ten-second period of no response) Hey, Dad.  This guy’s here to interview you.  Be a nice little man and look up, just like I taught you.

            At this point, Gemma gave her father a small poke in the back and then lifted his chin up with her index finger, forcing him to look at me.

Dale: Hey.

TC: I’m from the Techilogic Corporation and I’m putting together a study of demographics impacted by The Shrink Act.  Would you be willing to answer a few questions for me right now about it?

            Dale’s expression didn’t change until his gaze shifted over to his wife behind me, at which point his eyes widened, and then he looked immediately back at me.

Dale: Yes, I would.

TC: Excellent.  Could you just share the general nature of your experience back here with Kitty and Gemma?

Dale: Yeah, sure. It’s real simple.  I’ve done a lot of wrong to a lot of people.  I know that much, and I’m here to repay it however I have to.

TC: Okay.  And how much of that would you say that line of thinking came about after your arrival here, when it was decided you would forego jail time in order to help earn back money you owe?

Dale: Most of it.  I knew I had to face up to everything once I was caught, and now that I’m here, I guess if I can make things easier for the people I hurt the most, then that’s what makes it worth it.

TC: Interesting.  And how would you say your relationships with your daughter and wife-

            Kitty cleared her throat behind me.

TC: Sorry.  Your daughter and Kitty.  How would you say your relationships with them have been affected by your time here?

Dale: I suppose I can’t really speak to it much, seeing as how I’m the one who’s got the fixing to do, but I think they both know I’m trying to patch things up.  I’m a selfish man, and I used to spend a lot of time away doing things I regretted.  Now, I put that time into trying to make it up to them.  I care about ‘em both a lot, even if they haven’t forgiven me just yet, or ever will.

Gemma: Don’t be silly, Dad.  You know I’ve forgiven you now.

            After saying this, Gemma picked her father up again and lowered him over the side of the bed toward her feet, which were now dangling close to the ground, and placed him atop her right one so that he was forced to straddle it with his arms around a couple of her toes to keep his balance.  As soon as he had a good enough grip to keep from falling, she started bobbing her foot up and down at what I’m sure was a good enough pace to disorient her father.

Dale: Thanks, sweetie.

Gemma: You’re welcome, Dad.  Now gimme a kiss.

            At this command, Gemma’s foot momentarily stopped moving long enough for Dale to plant a light peck on his daughter’s big toenail, before it continued bouncing again.

Kitty: They are so cute together, aren’t they, Howard?

TC: I can certainly see where the bonding comes from.

Kitty: You really can, can’t you?

TC: We’re about done here.  I just have one last question for now.  What about you, Mr. Edwards?  As an individual.  Would you say this course of action as a rehabilitation program has been effective for you?

            At this question, I see Dale’s eyes flash toward his wife again before returning to me, though it’s hard keeping perfect eye contact as Gemma’s foot keeps moving so irregularly.

Dale: Yes.  Definitely yes.  I know I’ve got a long road ahead of me, and I don’t expect forgiveness from many people, but I’m trying, and if I can at least be of use here, then I’d say that’s the most important thing.

Kitty: I told him I’ll let him say that on the next video.  I think people will really take to it.

TC: I’m sure they will.  I appreciate the time you’ve all been willing to give me, and I look forward to following up this interview sometime within the next year if you’ll have me.

Kitty: You’re welcome back anytime.  You’ve been so nice to us.

TC: Thank you.  Mr. Edwards and Gemma?   Thanks to you too.

Gemma: You’re welcome.  (to Dale) Say you’re welcome.

Dale: You’re welcome.

Gemma: That’s my good little Daddy.  Now, do you know what time it is?

Dale: Time to go back in the box.

Gemma: Oh, you’re so good at this.  That’s exactly right.  Better hang on tight.

            Here, Gemma’s foot lowered down into the box with her father still hanging onto it until it was pressed to the side, where Dale dutifully climbed off his daughter’s foot and steadied himself on the rubber rim of the dirty pink Converse.

Gemma: I still see a lot of gross gunk on my shoes, Dad.  Better keep going or you’ll be in there, like, all night.

            The girl’s toes tapped at her father’s face one more time before she removed her foot from the box and then replaced the shoe box lid, sealing its occupant back inside.

Gemma: (to me) Mister?

TC: Yes?

Gemma: I forgot to say before.  But I think things are better because I, like, know where Dad is all the time.  He can’t ever go hide or run away from us like ever again.  I’ve got him right where he needs to be.  And he’s not going anywhere again, not unless I say so.

TC: I see.  Thank you for sharing that, Gemma.

Kitty: She’s got such a strong sense of self.  Don’t you, honey?

Gemma: Uh-huh.

TC: This should about wrap things up.

            Departing from the Edwards residence came shortly after.  The family has concretely agreed to meet with me in sixth months again for another round of interviews to deduce if further progress has been made in Dale’s rehabilitation, his relationships with his wife and daughter, and the general serving of justice.  As I made my way down the walk, Kitty encouraged me to subscribe to her YouTube channel, and Gemma suggested a couple of country songs she wanted me to listen to because my face reminded her of the artist.

            Though it would be something of a discredit to my study to put any real stock in predictions with only one round of interviews completed, I can’t help but feel something is slightly amiss with the system as it specifically pertains to the Edwards family.  All was well on the surface, but my experience as an analyst has taught me it’s difficult to trust everything I see in situations like this.  There was something about the way Kitty and Dale exchanged glances.  As she has the legal right to be in the same room as him at all times, I couldn’t have asked her to leave, though next time, it would behoove me and the validity of my study’s results to politely insist on a solo audience with Dale.

            Further reflection on this matter will undoubtedly continue once I’ve compiled more information from the family and other sources as well.  For the time being, the interviews I collected today are irrefutably a strong statement on the possible interpersonal outcomes of The Shrink Act.  Whether or not that statement is a positive one for the nation remains to be seen.

Report 3: South Hanenrow University, Interview 1: Professor Ellen Taggert

            I completed my first round of interviews today with the second primary subject of my study after driving six hours out to South Hanenrow University, a small private liberal arts college of just over 3,500 students.  Highly prestigious with only a 6% entrance rate for applicants, the job opportunities and connections students reportedly make after graduation makes it an extremely desirous destination post-high school.  It’s a surprising statistic, to be sure, for such a young school, as it opened just seven years ago.  The university is among the first in the nation to integrate The Shrink Act into its disciplinary system, and as I’ve been told, has been receiving several generous monetary gifts from some of the executives at Techilogic in order to foster their growth more speedily.

            Some background is warranted for context for when I once again present the conversation in its unedited format.  As with my previous case, this is meant to be a situation representative of a larger whole, and I am assured that this particular one is a very common scenario at the college.  Ellen Taggert is a history professor and head of her department at the university.  At 39 years of age, she’s worked there for its entire run, and has five years’ experience prior to that.  Of course, she has another job too, which will be expanded on in the interview.  Currently, she is the caretaker for twelve students serving shrunken sentences at the school, including the following two, who will be the focus of this interview: 21-year-old Dominic Graham, a defensive lineman for the university football team who was placed on academic probation after flunking half his classes last semester, and 20-year-old Shelby Bill, president of the debate team who was placed on a disciplinary probation after drunkenly stumbling into the university dean’s front lawn and defecating into a bush.

            Professor Taggert’s office is a sizeable one on the top floor of the English and social studies wing, and contains a conference table as well as three ceiling-high book shelves.  The woman herself wore sharp glasses, a black sweater, had her dark hair tied back in a tight bun, and held herself in what could only be described as an stance of cool confidence.

TC: Thank you for agreeing to speak with me, Professor.

Ellen: Pleasure’s all mine.  And sorry.  Remind me of your name again?

TC: Howard Taylor, analyst from the Techilogic Corporation’s human relations research division.

Ellen: That’s right.  Good to meet you in person.  Now, how will this work?

TC: I’ve just got some questions to ask about your experience participating in the system put in place by The Shrink Act, if that’s all right.

Ellen: Ready when you are.

TC: First, just tell me about your role here at the university.  You’re a professor of history and head of the department, though I gather that’s not the only hat you wear?

Ellen: That’s true.  I’m also a disciplinary officer with the dean’s office and campus security.

TC: How long has that been the case?

Ellen: For about eight months, since The Shrink Act went into effect.

TC: Interesting.  Why was that?

Ellen: I heard they were putting the system in place here, and was curious about it as a deterrent to wrongful behavior and generally improving the campus decorum.  I wanted to help in any way I could.  I was told I made an impressive candidate and was exactly what they were looking for in the new officers.

TC: That leads into my next question.  Describe your role as a disciplinary officer.

Ellen: When students are placed under academic or disciplinary probation, they’re in line for expulsion from the school.  As I’m sure you know, placement in this university is highly coveted, and most will do just about anything to ensure they stay enrolled.  Through a series of interviews, staff recommendations, community service, and finally, requisite time spent with a disciplinary officer, they can secure their place in the school again.

TC: By requisite time spent with a disciplinary officer, you mean time spent while shrunken?

Ellen: That’s correct.

TC: So, you supervise them while they’re reduced in size?

Ellen: Yes.  And then some.  Right now, two of the students I’m overseeing are junior Dominic Graham and sophomore Shelby Bill.  As part of their reapplication process, they each have to spend sixty hours shrunken under my supervision.  It can be spread out however it has to be to fit their schedules, though it is to their benefit to follow my routine as rigidly as possible.  I have to decide whether or not to recommend they return to regular enrollment at the end of it, after all.

TC: I see.  And tell me, how is their time spent with you?

Ellen: It mostly depends on the day and my mood.  I like to discipline the students in ways that will benefit them in the future for the betterment of their learning and their roles as citizens.  After all, this system is in place to improve them, not just punish them to the point of meaninglessness.

TC: Of course.  So, give me a for instance.  How might Dominic be disciplined?

Ellen: (laughs) Well, you know Dominic is a defensive lineman for the university football team, yes?  He’s a sturdy young man.

TC: Yes, I’ve read some of his stats for the school.

Ellen: Well, in his case, I like to give him a little extra practice.  So sometimes what I’ll do is put him down to, oh, say two inches?  Then I’ll usually just take one of my shoes off and let him practice pile-driving my toe.  Or rather, my toe pile-drives him.  I give him plenty of warning, of course, and there’s no sense in anyone getting hurt.  I’m nice about it.

TC: Does he ever win?

Ellen: (laughs) Well, maybe I’m not that nice.

TC: Would you say this has helped him?

Ellen: Oh, by leaps and bounds.

TC: Really.  How does he take it in general?

Ellen: When he first came in, he was very surly.  I think he saw himself as very much above it all, given how important he is to the football team, and how much money his family comes from, but I swiftly reminded him what was at stake if he didn’t fly right.  He’s now a much pleasanter person to be around, and actually pretty sharp when he puts a half amount of effort into things.  If he’s got the class space for it, I’d appreciate seeing him in a desk at some point during my lectures.  It took a little work, but I whipped him into shape.

TC: How so?  Besides the extra practice.

Ellen: Once he’s tuckered out by the tackling, he’ll usually just flop over, and then I lay my toes on top of him so he can massage them a little.  I’m gentle with him, of course.

TC: How does that go?

Ellen: It’s not too difficult, but he had a big problem with it when we started.  Complaining about the weight and smell, things like that, even though I take care to wash my feet thoroughly before I plan on using them as tools.  I don’t mean to be cruel, after all.

TC: Of course not.

Ellen: So then I gave him the same option, except I dropped him inside a stocking first before putting it on myself.  And then I let him know that if he didn’t get to work, he would soon find himself sending out community college applications.  He changed his tune after that, and actually carried out the rest of that session still inside the stocking without complaint.  It was marvelous progress.

TC: I imagine so.

Ellen: He’s a good boy now.  He does what he’s told, when he’s told.  I daresay he’s more polite now, too.  He even says hello to me in the hallways of the school if he sees me, despite what I assume to be embarrassment over our interactions.  I can’t say I blame him entirely for that.

TC: Interesting.  And tell me, out of curiosity, does that improved behavior of his reflect in your disciplinary sessions, in terms of what activities he ends up involved in?

Ellen: Oh, of course.  I’m not a taskmaster.  I think that’s part of why I’ve had such a high success rate with my students on shrunken probation during this first trial on the program.  I make sure to reward good behavior in kind with less rigorous treatment.

TC: Such as?

Ellen: Well, in Dominic’s case, I tend to make him not quite as small now, maybe just a bit under twelve inches?  And he gets to participate in a few less taxing activities, such as cleaning my shoes or picking up trash in the hallway.  I doubt he minds it much at this point, and I’ll continue to let him do so as long as his grades and attitude stay up.

TC: When do you predict his time will be up?

Ellen: He’s on probation for another month, by which point he should have his hours completed so I can write my recommendation.  I do believe if he keeps this up, he’ll be getting a very positive one.

TC: That’s good to hear.  And what about Shelby?

Ellen: Ah.  Yes, Shelby.  I’m afraid I can’t quite say things are looking as optimistic for her.

TC: That’s unfortunate.  Why would that be?

Ellen: She’s been far less willing to adapt to the situation like her similarly positioned peer.  She’s president of the debate team, and she is not shy about putting her perceived talents to frequent use.

TC: What does her disciplinary time consist of?

Ellen: I admit, I’ve done my best to try and help her come to terms with the reality of her position in this school, and have had to show her a little more tough love than Dominic due to her tendency to object.  Sometimes I’ll have her comb my hair from my shoulder, or sometimes I’ll wear her in my heel for an hour.  Sometimes I just hold onto her and let her wrestle my fingers, and maybe turn my hands around a bit while she’s in them.  Nothing savage, but I do play a little rough when I’m not in the mood to listen to her diatribes.  Plus, it’s a bit of a de-stressor for me.

TC: Have you seen a change of any kind in Shelby?

Ellen: I have, yes.  I don’t want to completely shortchange her.  She’s at the point now where I don’t have to repeat myself when giving instructions, and she generally tries less to debate me on a choice I’ve made for her, though that could have something to do with the fact that more and more I’ve given her tasks that make it more difficult for her to carry on a regular conversation with me.  After all, I have things to get done.

TC: I see.  So you’re able to complete work during these sessions too?

Ellen: Absolutely.  I’m a professor, after all.  Never a dull moment.  It actually makes my life easier if they can just listen to my directions the first time I give them so I can go back to work, and I’m sure they prefer not being bothered either.  Like you’ve probably gathered, my measures are simple and easy to follow for almost anyone.

TC: I have.  What, specifically, would you say you require of students under probation?

Ellen: It’s nothing unreasonable.  After all, no one is forced to be here; they can feel free to march right off the school premises and find themselves a manual labor position if my methods don’t suit them.  All I ask in my session is simple compliance, a basic understanding of decent politeness, and occasionally a conversation on their wrongdoings.  This isn’t a counseling session, of course, and it’s not a required part of my job to vocally gauge their progress, but I think hearing them talk one way or another about their previous ills is always a good measure of how far they’ve come.

TC: How would you say that’s worked, then, with regard to Dominic and Shelby?

Ellen: With Dominic, it’s very positive.  I’ve probably gone a into lecture territory sometimes with him, getting on his case about studying and putting academics before football from now on.  It’s actually sinking in, though.  He’s come by my office sometimes just to tell me that he received a positive grade on a test or essay.  That always makes me glad, and reminds me that what I do is for such a greater good.

TC: And with Shelby?

Ellen: Well, this is really why I think her review won’t be so positive.  Like I said, she listens more frequently, and her behavior has improved, but my discussions with her suggest otherwise.  This is really where we begin to disagree.  As you probably know, she was placed on probation for her illegal weekend escapades.  So, just the other day, I made her an inch and was having her polish one of my rings I was wearing at the time, and asked her if she’d been avoiding drinking.  Do you know what she said back?

TC: What?

Ellen: She said she wouldn’t have remembered even if she did, so what was the point in asking?  Didn’t even look up at me in the eyes to say it.  Can you believe that?

TC: Certainly a debater’s fearlessness.

Ellen: Perhaps, but it just won’t do in this office, and not when I’m her caretaker and in charge of whether or not she returns to this institution.  I assure you, she was made to regret that little comment immediately afterward.

TC: Is it your prediction that she ends up expelled?

Ellen: Well, that’ll depend entirely on her.  So far, none of the students I’ve worked with were expelled, because they improved to my satisfaction.  I can see enough potential in Shelby that I foresee myself recommending she take another semester under shrunken probation.  I think more time under my tutelage will do her good.  Plus, it’ll help keep me from getting callouses on my heels.

TC: That’s good, at least.  That the program allows for second chances, I mean.

Ellen: Well, what do you think we’re running here?  A prison? (laughs)

TC: That about wraps up my questions.  I believe you said the two students will be here soon?

Ellen: Yes, they will.  They’re both serving a session at three, so we’ve got a couple minutes yet.

TC: You’re all right with having the interview while the session takes place?

Ellen: Oh, of course.  I know your study depends on it.

TC: This might sound like an odd request, but I hope it’ll be possible to actually converse with them, depending on what they’re doing?

Ellen: (laughs) Don’t worry.  I won’t put anyone in a shoe.

TC: Thank you.

Ellen: At least not until after you’ve left.

Report 3: South Hanenrow University, Interview 2: Dominic Graham and Shelby Bill

            Dominic and Shelby arrived within five minutes of each other.  I noted that Shelby was actually a few minutes late to the three o’clock appointment time to begin her shrunken discipline session, and the look on Ellen’s face to see the sophomore come in with a delay indicated the infraction was going to be counted against her.

            Before they arrived, Ellen asked that I allow her time to get the two of them shrunken and situated before beginning their parts of the interviews, just to kill two birds with one stone.  I agreed and waited patiently for my opportunity to question them.

            Apparently the itinerary for the pair of them had already been planned out at the previous session, because all the professor has to do was point to the ground like a dog trainer as she turned to face them in the chair at her desk.  It was an interesting and frankly surreal sight to see both Dominic, a six-foot-four defensive lineman, and Shelby, a petite academic in horn-rimmed glasses, get on their knees in tandem before their officer as though bowing to royalty.  Without any further comment, the professor removed her PMRD from the case, which she had had sitting next to the computer, and took aim.

            Ellen’s favoritism for the behavior of one of her charges was evident almost immediately, and confirmed her earlier remarks, as she only shrank Dominic down to roughly ten inches in height, while Shelby soon found herself standing at only one inch.

            It’s a peculiar thing to see someone at the minimum height the PMRD will allow, and though I’ve seen someone lowered to that extreme level many a time, it never fails to throw me slightly off balance.  Shelby was about half as tall as a human thumb.  Instantly I was put in mind of the idea that if the professor accidentally knocked an item off her desk, or sneezed toward the carpet on accident, Shelby could be severely injured or worse.

            Ellen didn’t seem concerned about possible safety hazards, though I would guess it’s because she’s become so practiced at handling shrunken students, since she did appear to act with great care and gentleness, at least when in transit with them.  She lowered a hand to the carpet in front of Shelby and I assumed at first she was just going to pick her up between two fingers, which I imagine would be rather uncomfortable and probably quite terrifying being lifted at that size with no support to stand on, but instead she just offered her the chance to climb onto her fingers, which Shelby took immediately.

            The next part puzzled me at first.  While still holding Shelby in her hand, Ellen kicked off a shoe, which was a black stiletto of some variety, from her left foot and crossed it over her knee.  She then lowered the girl back down toward it, cupping her underneath it close enough that the professor’s toes actually covered her up.  To my surprise, I saw Shelby willingly clambering her way up between Ellen’s big and second toes, which then pinched around the girl’s sides just enough to hold her weight up without squeezing her to the point of injury.

            Dominic’s turn came next.  Ellen seemed to be more comfortable dealing with him herself at his height of ten inches because she simply pressed her hands to his sides and lifted him up like a doll, placing him on her thigh, which he took a seat on almost immediately.  She then handed him a nail filer from beside the keyboard and fanned her left hand out within his range.  He got immediately to work on evening out her nails, while Ellen herself redirected her attention to the computer and began scrolling through a page with her other hand on the mouse.

            Meanwhile, the foot that had Shelby gripped between two toes began bobbing up and down, though not at a pace that would necessarily make the passenger sick, which at least was fortunate for all there to witness it.

TC: Hello, Dominic and Shelby.  Are you prepared to answer a few questions?  I believe your professor would’ve mentioned it to you a while back.

Dominic: Yeah, it’s cool.

TC: Shelby?  You too?

Shelby: Fine.

            Shelby’s answer came quickly and curtly, though I suspect it was mostly due to the air constriction caused by having her professor’s bare toes squeezing so directly into her abdomen.

TC: Thank you.  Just to let you know, I’m Howard Taylor from the Techilogic Corporation, and this is a study I’m conducting on The Shrink Act and those affected by the new systems put in place.  Feel free to answer my questions with as much detail as you’re comfortable sharing.  Just to get started, how do you feel the program has impacted you as students and as citizens?

            The students paused for a moment to chew it over.

Dominic: Well, my grades are definitely up.  And I’m learning to handle myself and my time better.  I haven’t been able to go to as many football practices as I want to be, but I’m putting the important stuff first, and I guess that’s what matters, you know?

TC: Shelby, what about you?

Ellen: Shelby, I’m not getting any younger here.  Are you going to start rubbing today, or do I need to put the shoe back on?

Shelby: Yes, Professor.  Sorry.

            Here, Shelby set about trying to use her arms to massage Ellen’s big toe while it continued bouncing up and down in rhythm.  It looked difficult, as her head only just appeared above the top of her professor’s foot.

Ellen: Sorry about that, Howard.  Continue.  Shelby, I believe he asked for your opinion next?

Shelby: It’s fine here.  I’m learning from my mistakes now and getting better.

Ellen: Are you really?

Shelby: Yes.

TC: I’m glad to hear it’s been a success for you both, then.  Tell me, do you believe there are detriments to a program like this?

            There was a long moment of pause from both of them.  Ellen’s eyes seemed to divert from her computer screen again, but they quickly returned.

Dominic: I guess if you got a discipline officer who didn’t know how to take care of people who were small, it would be bad, but Professor Taggert’s got this on lock, you know?

Ellen: (laughs) I appreciate that, Dominic.

TC: And you, Shelby?

Shelby: None.  None that I can think of.

Ellen: Well, that’s a first.

TC: If you’re both willing, I was wondering how this has impacted your time at school in terms of schedules and social lives.  How do you fit it all in?

Dominic: Oh, well.  Um.  My friends actually don’t even really know what I do here.  They know I get shrunken, but I don’t tell them what I do.  I guess I prefer they don’t know.

TC: Why would that be?

Dominic: They just wouldn’t. Um, I mean, they just wouldn’t understand how.  Um.  It’s just embarrassing sometimes, I guess.  For me.  I don’t know.

            At this point, Ellen gently ruffled the top of Dominic’s hair with a fingertip.

Ellen: And that’s your business to have.

TC: Shelby?

Shelby: I don’t talk.  About it.  With.  Other people.  Like she said.  My business.

Ellen: I would assume, too, her debate opponents are better off not seeing her in positions like this one right now, right?

            Here, Ellen slowly uncrossed her foot from her opposite leg and lifted it up higher in the air for just a moment before lowering it back down again.

Shelby: Right.

Dominic: (to me) Hey, mister?

TC: Yes?

Dominic: People aren’t going to be able to read about what we’re doing, are they?  What you’re writing?

TC: They will, but I can use an assumed name for you if you’d prefer, so you stay totally anonymous.

Dominic: Yeah, I would.

TC: I’ll make a note right now, then.  Now, it sounds like you feel like this system has been working for you.  Do you feel it could work for others in similar situations?

Dominic: Sure, I guess, depending on what they did, and if the officer knows how to work with them well.

            There was a long pause as the pair of students continued at their duties, followed by a deep sigh from Shelby.

Shelby: No.

            I noticed Ellen stop scrolling on her computer screen at this moment and shift her attention back to us.  From the looks of it, the grip of her toes on her student increased its pressure.

TC: Really.  Could you elaborate, Shelby?

            After taking a deep breath, Shelby’s answer came out quickly and determinedly, despite regular huffed intervals caused by her professor’s toes squeezing around her.

Shelby: It’s a.  Tough.  System.  Like using intimidation.  To.  Force.  Changes.  In people.  It works for some.  For.  A.  While.  But then they get out later and.  Find.  Stuff.  Doesn’t.  Work.  That way, and then.  They’re in trouble because.  They can’t.  Understand.  How to.  Resolve conflicts.  Without.  Just.  Scaring.  People.

            At this point, Ellen lowered her hand to the area just under her toes again, which she parted, allowing Shelby to drop about an inch in height back into her palm.  She lifted her up to her face and closer to the bridge of her nose.  The look on her face was oddly stoic.

Ellen: That was quite a lot of detail from you, Shelby.  I’m almost impressed you’ve given it so much thought.

Shelby: Well, I have to.  I spend so much time in here, thinking about things is all I can do to stop from blowing my brains out.

            There was another long pause, and Shelby and Ellen seemed to be having a stare-down.

Ellen: Howard, are there any last minute questions you have for Shelby?

TC: Just Shelby?

Ellen: Yes, because I’m afraid I’m going to have to break my promise I made earlier by putting someone in a shoe before you’ve left.

TC: Oh.  No, no more questions.

Ellen: I suppose Shelby’s not too eager to have full access to fresh air this session.  Are you, little miss?

Shelby: Lay it on me.  I don’t care.

Ellen: I will, thank you.

            Ellen lowered her student back down toward her bare foot.  This time, she plucked her directly from her own hand with her toes, gripping her between the same two while descending back toward the overturned stiletto.  After a moment of awkward struggle as Ellen slid her foot back in, I heard a softly muffled cough from inside the black heel.

TC: Well.

Ellen: Sorry you had to see that go like that, Howard.  But that’s just all a part of the process. We’re here to correct wrongful behavior, after all, and this is a highly prestigious university campus.  Backtalk like that isn’t tolerated anywhere, let alone in my presence when I have a job to do.

TC: I understand.  Actually, I’d say my interview is just about wrapped up now anyway.  Dominic, do you have any extra comments to make before I head out?

Dominic: Not really.  I mean, I guess I’m just glad I wasn’t booted right out of the school.  I worked hard on the field to get in here, and now I’m working just as hard to stay in here in the library too.  You know?

TC: I do indeed.  That’s an important lesson I’m sure anyone looking into the situation would be glad to know isn’t lost on the students.

Dominic: Oh, it’s definitely not.  Not on me, at least.

            At this, the professor gave Dominic another little pet on the top of the head before switching hands for him to file nails on.

Ellen: See?  He’s learned so well, and he knows I’m very proud of his progress.  Careful, though, you missed a spot on my thumb.

Dominic: Sorry, Professor.  It won’t happen again.

            My departure came shortly afterward.  Professor Taggert just shook my hand from where she sat, and Dominic shook my fingertip, though nobody showed me to the door.  I was actually grateful for this, as I couldn’t help but feel for Shelby, should she be forced to endure being walked on at only one inch tall while trapped in what I have to imagine is a fairly muggy environment.

            I waited outside the building for two hours for Dominic and Shelby to emerge.  After the difficulties in getting what I believed to be honest answers from my first case, I was determined for a more effective division of parties.  I had a feeling that Dominic wouldn’t be particularly inclined to share anything further with me, but I had hoped Shelby could at least be counted on for some additional feedback, especially once she was outside of her professor’s grasp.

            Unfortunately, both declined my invitation for a private interview to go into more detail on their experiences, with full discretion from their professor’s knowledge of their answers.  Dominic was quick to refuse and move on his way, clearly embarrassed by his association with me, his professor, or any of these matters outside the solitude of the office.  I noticed a hesitant expression on Shelby’s face before she shook her head.  She appeared absolutely exhausted for the obvious reasons and said she was not interested in further comment at this time.

            Still, I passed her one of my business cards as she made her way down the path, which she put in her purse.  It’s a long shot, but I decided it’s worth it for the off-chance to talk to her about her experiences in more depth.

            For now, I am left with the interviews I did manage to acquire.

            As with the previous case, almost everything said was positive, and what wasn’t positive was discouraged, albeit a bit more openly this time.  Though I can’t start making definitive conclusions until at least one more round of interviews, which will take place in six months as well, I have my normal analyst’s suspicions already.

            On Professor Ellen Taggert: she’s very serious about her career and her work, and seems to legitimately care about improving the students who come to her on probation.  Still, I couldn’t help but detect a certain pleasure she seemed to get from her work that had to extend beyond mere job satisfaction.  It manifested in two ways: first, in her joyful acceptance of Dominic’s praise and compliant presentation.  She was glad to let herself believe that her program was working so well that he had been totally turned around, and she wasn’t afraid to show it; I got a sense of it as pride more than anything else.  Second, and most prominently, in her treatment of Shelby: though she appeared bitter in the face of the student’s commentary on the surface, there was a subtle yet undeniable inevitability about what she was doing, as though she’d already decided the flow of events for her charge, and a bit of self-righteous glee couldn’t help but shine through while she did it.  She’ll be one to keep a close eye on at our next interview.

            Dominic I found a bit easier to read.  Again, I can’t make concrete statements now on these individuals, but I would be hard-pressed to say Dominic hasn’t just learned exactly how to play the system.  His answers were too rigid and clearly thought out beforehand, as though rehearsed for a play.  He knows exactly what I, anyone else, and especially his professor, want to hear to suggest the system is working perfectly for him.  Not that he doesn’t necessarily dislike the situation he’s in, as he was clearly embarrassed at the prospect of his regular lapdog sessions with Ellen becoming public knowledge, but he has a greater goal in mind of simply ending his sentence as fast as humanly possible, and from a personal standpoint, I can’t really blame him.

            Shelby Bill was the most significant to me and my notes, though I had the least amount from her before she was deposited into her professor’s stiletto.  She seemed to be going along with the designed system of discipline for as long as she could, before finally giving into her true feelings on the matter that Ellen hinted at seeing often from our earlier interview.  My impression is that she doesn’t believe in the system’s validity, seeing it as literally bullying into behavioral changes just under the threat of continued punishment.  It is my hope that she decides to take me up on my offer for a follow-up interview in private.

            Only time will show which of these observations merit further questions.  For now, I will move on to the next case undeterred by these somewhat troubling early conversations I’ve encountered.

Report 4: The Williams Family, Interview 1: Lillian Williams

            A couple of connecting flights led me to the third case of my study at a townhouse in Manhattan.

            Lillian Williams is a forty-four-year-old public relations worker for eighteen businesses in the city as well as a couple more high-profile clients.  She was previously married to a man named Ron Williams, and after they divorced thirteen years ago, she moved to the Manhattan residence with her sixteen-year-old daughter Ruby, which she now also maintains with her seventeen-year-old stepdaughter Trish Reed.  Trish is the daughter of Wayne Reed, a former accountant, who passed away after a five-year battle with leukemia just three years ago.  He was previously married to Tanya Reed, Trish’s mother, who passed away a decade ago in a four-car pile-up that claimed two other lives as well, before he married Lillian eight years ago.

            Starting just under two years back, Trish became connected with an escalating series of shopliftings at stores in her neighborhood.  Eventually these thefts led to larger scale offenses, such as personal property damage and defacing of city structures with graffiti, and culminated in her prosecution when she was caught in the act of trying to catch a shed on fire ten months ago.  As it turned out, her stepmother had enough political influence to help persuade the courts to consider putting Trish into the shrunken house arrest program, which began for her six months ago.  According to my research on the case, Trish is allowed to have her size changed by either her stepmother or stepsister in a range of one to ten inches in height, and can leave the house twice a week under supervision.

            The residence itself was located in a moderately upscale neighborhood with access to its four-story structure through a walkway between two other homes.  Upon my arrival, I was greeted by Lillian, who informed me that she had a surprise meeting pop up on the other side of town that was happening in an hour, and that she was perfectly willing to reschedule our interview if that wasn’t enough time.  I told her we would keep the appointment as it was and simply make efficient use of time.

            Today, having learned from the unforeseen complications of mixed company in my previous interviews, I’ve resolved to acquire private interviews with the other members of the household by any means I can.  This may be able to help ensure honesty in a situation where certain participants may not feel comfortable or even totally safe being forthcoming with their opinions.  It was a wrinkle I had not anticipated on the scale I believe I have witnessed thus far in the study, and is one I won’t allow to hurt the integrity of the project again.

            Lillian led me to a living room larger than I was expecting to see in a Manhattan townhouse and bid me to sit in a leather armchair.  She was dressed in a crisp pinstripe business suit and promptly settled into what I would gather to be a normal habit of glancing at her watch every few minutes.

TC: Thank you for agreeing to this interview, Mrs. Williams.

Lillian: You’re welcome.  Mr. Taylor, isn’t it?

            Lillian’s eye contact broke momentarily for her to crane her neck toward the kitchen parlor across the room, where her maid Dorothy was dusting the countertops.

Lillian: Dorothy!  Could we get a couple of coffees, please? (to me) How do you take yours?

TC: One sugar, please.

Lillian: Dorothy, one sugar for Mr. Taylor here, and the usual black for me.  (to me) I’m sorry we don’t have more time today.  I didn’t know about the meeting until two hours ago, and it’s one I can’t miss.

TC: No trouble at all.   I was hoping, though, that it would still be possible to interview both Ruby and Trish, even if you’re not present for it.

Lillian: Of course.  Dorothy will still be in the house if you need anything, and I’ve had a discussion with Ruby about the interview.  She’s still willing to do it here as well.

TC: And Trish?

Lillian: (laughs) She’ll do it too.  I know she will.

TC: All right.  Well, I want to maximize use of your time, so are you ready to begin?

Lillian: Anytime.

TC: How has your experience been in having Trish under the Shrink Act’s house arrest program?

Lillian: Well, to be honest, it’s just all been very overwhelming.  Trish’s behaviors were becoming a real nightmare.  I was beyond the end of my rope.  She was becoming something I was afraid to be living under the same roof as, and I’m unashamed to share that with you.  Finally having a way to keep her under control has made my life so much easier.  For a while, I was anticipating all of this ending very poorly for everyone, but thanks to the program, my daughter and I have the chance to try and salvage what’s left of her.

TC: Describe your living situation since Trish went under the Shrink Act house arrest program.

Lillian: My daughter and I understand that Trish was given a merciful decision by the courts, as she’ll be turning eighteen very soon and would’ve been facing time in prison if the case went much longer, and we’ve resolved to take full advantage of this unique chance to reform her in the safety of our home.  She gets food, water, and shelter, but in return for that generosity must pay her debt to society, and to us.  We know the law, and intend to see that that girl learns the egregious criminal error of her ways.

TC: You mean Trish?

Lillian: Yes.

TC: All right.  What ways do you take full advantage of the chance, as you say?

Lillian: I won’t sugarcoat it, not for you and not for any of the review board I have to report to for Trish’s progress.  She’s here to come to an understanding about her rapidly degrading potential as a citizen and if possible save what’s left of it, and I will not hold back just because she’s my dear husband’s daughter, God rest his soul.  In fact, I believe he would’ve wanted nothing less than this.

            Lillian’s voice became slightly choked up at the mention of Wayne, but she covered it up just as quickly.

TC: Please, go on.

Lillian: Well, I’d been doing a lot of research on people already using the PMRD to discipline their children for years.  I myself have never owned one, but it seemed like the right move for this situation, and I learned an awful lot about what was effective and what wasn’t.  I sat down with my daughter for a long talk about it, and we came to a few decisions about formally breaking Trish of her thuggish habits.  Essentially, we take turns closely supervising Trish in whatever ways we see fit to demonstrate precisely the kind of life that her actions will be rewarded with if they aren’t curtailed immediately.

TC: Out of curiosity, did your research happen to involve study of Judy Stevens?

Lillian: (laughs) I guess you’ve done your research too.  Yes, you could say she was something of an inspiration, but there are plenty more, as I’m sure you know, that offered interesting methodology for correcting adolescent misdemeanors.  Using those people as templates, we’ve arranged a fairly straightforward schedule for its recovery.

TC: You mean her recovery.

Lillian: Pardon?

TC: You said its recovery.  I assume you were referring to Trish?

Lillian: Oh, yes.  Sorry, did I say “its” on accident?  Slip of the tongue.  Her recovery.  (laughs) I suppose this is why I’m not a professor of linguistics.

            At this point, Dorothy silently entered the room and set down our coffee mugs on marble tables next to each chair.

Lillian: Thank you, Dorothy.

TC: Thank you very much.  (to Lillian) Could you detail for me that schedule you were talking about?

Lillian: Gladly.  How much detail are you looking for?

TC: As much as you’ll provide.

Lillian: (laughs) All right, if you insist.  I can do that.  Generally Trish’s morning will be spent just giving a little finger and wrist massage to the both of us at breakfast.  Depending on her behavior, I’ll make her ten inches, and she helps clean up the dirty dishes.  If she’s been testy, though, I’ll put her on duty scrubbing the floor at three inches and just tell Dorothy to stay out of the room.  I come home from work at noon, then, and check on her progress with her chores.  If she’s finished up a job I’ve given her, I’ll just give her some time inside my shoes while I work on reports, instead of getting more creative.  After that, I have to go back to work, so I’ll put her to dusting in some of the tougher-to-reach places in the house.  She gets to leave the house twice a week, though, so if I’m in the mood, I’ll bring her with me back to work and just keep wearing her straight through until closing time.  I also try to take her out of there sometimes we can have little chats about her behavior, but those don’t usually last very long, and usually by her own doing.  When I get home, I’m exhausted from the day, and plus, Trish can be quite a handful, so I give my daughter her turn for the rest of the evening.

TC: I see.  Fascinating system.  And how does your daughter Ruby use her time with Trish?

Lillian: Very effectively, though I’ll be honest here, at first, she didn’t particularly want to engage much in the actual punishment part.

TC: Why’s that?

Lillian: I suppose it’s come from her distaste for having to deal with her stepsister after all she’s done.  Frankly, I can’t much blame her for that sentiment.  Still, we’ve got a job to do, and Ruby’s not always been in exactly the right spirit for it.  She even lied to me once, telling me she was wearing Trish in her shoe all evening, and then what do I hear from Dorothy?  That she just had her sitting out on her desk.  Learning nothing.

TC: I see.  But it’s not like that anymore?

Lillian: I put a stop to that quickly.  You’ll find I’m not one for bending of the truth, and as Ruby is also a dependent in my house, she can be shrunken if need be, and there certainly was a need there.

TC: I see.  So you shrunk Ruby down as well?

Lillian: Yes.  Only briefly, to remind her of her duty to society, and to teach her a lesson. She doesn’t have to like dealing with Trish, but she still owes it to me and everyone else to give it her best shot at fixing her.  It really hurt me to have to do that, but it was necessary, and it hasn’t been needed again.

TC: So she takes to the schedule more now, I gather?

Lillian: Well, I have to tell you!  She’s made it so I feel like I have to back off a little bit, just so we don’t totally wear Trish out before she’s had a chance to learn anything. (laughs)

TC: Really.  Could you elaborate?

Lillian: Of course.  I get a certain kick out of letting Trish ride around in my hair or putting her in the toes of my shoes, sure, but Ruby has taken it to a whole different level.  I’ve really been very impressed at her new dedication to reforming her stepsister.  She likes turning her times with her into games for them both, usually some variation on tag.  It helps get Trish some exercise and still manages to get the lesson across, I feel, because it’s certainly made her more docile around me.

TC: Interesting.

Lillian: Ruby really is her mother’s daughter, and then some. (laughs)  She actually doesn’t like to let me participate too, I guess she feels like it’s got to be one on one, but she lets me watch sometimes, and it’s a real riot.

TC: I see.

Lillian: I’m sure she’d love to give a demonstration later for us.

TC: That really won’t be necessary.

Lillian: It’s no trouble.

TC: So would you say the program has been a benefit to Trish?

Lillian: Infinitely.  Like I said, she’s becoming more docile around me, and she’s just generally learning her place.  She’s even told me as much when I asked her.  She’s definitely learning from things.  I guess after Ruby got it out of her head that she could accomplish anything letting her serve her time by just sitting there, she’s figured out how the world works, and not a moment too soon.

TC: How about the effect of the program specifically with regards to her relationship with you?

Lillian: Ah.  Well, look, I can’t quite say the girl and I have been particularly close.  She never really liked me, I recognize that much, nor do I hold it against her, but it just was so hard to manage after Wayne passed.  She did care about him, I suppose, despite having an awfully backwards way of showing it sometimes with some of the activities she chose to engage in.  But she’s slowly learning to recognize that I’m the one making sure she stays fed and has a roof, so it’s in her best interest to at least show me a little decent human respect.  And I’d say that’s a positive.

TC: It does sound like one.  And what about after her sentence is over?  Do you feel the program’s been effective in preparing Trish for independent life again?

Lillian: Can’t say I can see for sure yet, as it’s all really up to her.  All I can do is my best to teach her a thing or two about what’s right and wrong, and she’s got to make the final choice.  I’m liking what I’m seeing from her lately, though, which is more than I could’ve said for the last few years.

TC: I am curious about your opinion of one thing.  It is a sensitive matter, but I feel it’s relevant.

Lillian: Yes?

TC: Her behavior.  Would you describe it as consistent with the time before the passing of your husband?

Lillian: Well, yes.  I mean, to an extent, yes.  Yes, I suppose.  She got caught smoking a couple times and once with a liquor bottle from a party she went to. Plus, she’s always been a back-talker to me.  Like I said, she’s never liked me.

TC: Interesting.  And you’d say that’s been consistent with her criminal behavior after his death?

Lillian: Not entirely, then, I suppose, when you put it like that.  It was definitely much, much worse after Wayne’s passing.  Really I see it as her just lacking a male influence.  When Wayne was still around, he could help keep her in check.  I would guess she might see his loss as a sort of liberation.

            There was a slight pause here, though it was on my part, as I was quickly attempting to deduce if Lillian’s prediction was actually sincere.  It did indeed appear to be.

TC: Really.

Lillian: Yes, as disgusted as it makes me to say it.  That’s really the only explanation I can see for it.  She didn’t even go to his funeral!  Can you believe that?  Instead she was off doing God knows what on the pier, probably damaging someone’s property.  And then she had the nerve to whip up some tears around the house after that, I imagine just to put on a show of it.

TC: I see.

Lillian: It just never ends with her.  That’s why I do the things I do, and that’s why it’s important that my daughter do the same.  Consistency is key, because when Trish doesn’t have it, it’s clearly not good for anyone.  You understand that, right?

TC: I do, yes.

Lillian: Good.

            At this moment, out of the corner of my eye in a doorway behind Lillian’s armchair I saw who I could only assume to be Ruby about to enter the room, smoothing out a yellow sundress as she walked.

Lillian: Ruby, honey?  Can you come in?  Mr. Taylor’s here to do the interviews with us.

TC: Hi, Ruby.  Good to meet you.

            Ruby entered the room, but regarded me with a facial expression of unconcealed distrust before turning to her mother.

Ruby: That’s happening right now?

Lillian: Yes, honey.  And actually, I was hoping you could do me a favor.

Ruby: Okay.

Lillian: I told Mr. Taylor we’d give him a little demonstration of that corrective measure you came up with for Trish.  You know.  The game?

            Ruby had been standing casually next to her mother’s chair up to this point, but she visibly stiffened up at the request.

Ruby: Really?  Right now?

Lillian: Yes. I have to leave in a few minutes, so we probably should get going.

Ruby: Are you sure, Mom?  I’ve got her doing other work right now, and I just…

Lillian: (cutting in) Please go get her now, honey.

Ruby: Um.  Okay.  She’s in the kitchen.  I’ll be back.

            Here, Ruby turned and walked very slowly back out of the room the way she’d come.

Lillian: See how dedicated she is to reforming her?  She’s already got her on some other kind of work in there.  Ruby’s learned well from the system too about the kinds of choices necessary for the greater good.

TC: I’m sure.  But again, if you’re in a hurry, I don’t want to take up any more of your valuable time than necessary with demonstrations.

Lillian: Nonsense, it’ll just take a minute.  Ruby?

            Ruby reentered the room here, her hands cupped together at stomach level.  In the center of them was Trish, who I estimated to be around four inches tall at the time.

Ruby: Here she is.

Lillian: Good.  Now, just give us a little show.

Ruby: Mom?  Are you sure?

            Lillian’s facial expression changed subtly at this remark.  Her smile remained but her tone became more rigid from what I assumed to be impatience.

Lillian: Yes.  Honey.  Please do it now.

Ruby: Right.  Sorry, Mom, okay.  Here’s what we do.

            Ruby took a seat on an ottoman near her mother’s chair and in full view of mine, then lowered her cupped hands toward the carpet, parting them about six inches in front of her bare feet.  Trish clambered out of her stepsister’s hands and took a few steps forward, lowering herself closer to the ground in a stance that I could only accurately describe as cowering.

Lillian: (to me) Are you watching?  This is going to be good.

Report 4: The Williams Family, Interview 2: Ruby Williams and Trish Reed

            I made no further comment, mostly due to my own disbelief at Lillian and Ruby’s openness in what was happening, as Lillian’s stepdaughter Trish lowered herself onto her haunches while trembling with what I could understandably attribute to fear.

Lillian: Like I said, Mr. Taylor, it’s a real riot.  Pay attention.  They’re both getting so good at it. (to Trish) Get moving.  Now.

            At her stepmother’s stern command, the four-inch Trish stood up, managing to take approximately five steps before her sixteen-year-old stepsister’s right foot lifted from the ground and darted in pursuit.  It quickly overtook her, and the taller girl’s toes covered Trish up immediately.  The latter was tripped up with relative ease, whereupon she fell flat on her back.  Ruby hadn’t even needed to lean forward to do it.

Lillian: (laughs) Well, that wasn’t a very good show of it.  Trish, I know you can do better.

Trish: I’m sorry Lillian, I just-

Lillian: (cutting in) Mom.

Trish: I’m sorry Mom.

Lillian: I don’t need your sorries, I just want to see you making more of an effort.  We’re all doing our best here.

Ruby: Mom, maybe she doesn’t need to do this now.  I’ve got some work I wanted her to do in the other-

Lillian: (cutting in) Honey.  It doesn’t matter if she particularly needs to do it.  I’m just trying to make a point.  Now go again.

            Here, Ruby exhaled deeply, arching her back slightly and clasping her hands on her knees.

Ruby: (to Trish) You heard her, little baby beetle.  Get up again, or I might accidentally skoosh you.

            Despite Ruby’s aggressive words, while watching all involved rather intently from my silent position in the armchair, I couldn’t help but notice something strange.  There was an undeniably uncomfortable expression on her face, and as she leaned over slightly closer to her tiny stepsister on the carpet, her hair draping over her features, I could see her biting her lip.

TC: Mrs. Williams, if you have your meeting to attend, there’s really no need to continue onward with this.  I assure you, I’ve seen enough to grasp your point.

Lillian: I know, but now I’m just a little embarrassed for Trish and want to see her make it up.  (to Trish) C’mon down there.  I know you have it in you, even if you don’t want to show it.  (to Ruby) Go again.

Ruby: (to Trish) Better run.  I’m gonna come get you.

            Trish pulled herself up and started to move, this time to the right.  Immediately Ruby’s foot followed her, but rather than using her toes as battering rams for her stepsister, she instead raised her entire foot up and tilted it to the side just in time to act as a wall of flesh for Trish.  The latter ran headlong into Ruby’s sole and quickly fell flat on her back again.

Lillian: Oh, for gosh sakes.  Is that really your best?

Ruby: You still aren’t very good at this, are you, Trishy?

            Before any further prompting was given, Trish pulled herself back to her feet and began running in the other direction, back toward the ottoman her stepsister was seated on.  Ruby’s foot followed and came down with a soft thump on the floor just as Trish made it underneath the piece of furniture.

Ruby: Dang it.  Almost had you.

Lillian: There we go.  Now we have a show.

Ruby: You can run but you can’t hide!

            Trish continued to the other side under the ottoman without slowing down.  Ruby calmly turned herself around on top, waiting for a sign of her stepsister to emerge with her leg raised to drop back down.  I could see Trish changing directions below and attempting to sneak out the other side, but Ruby’s gaze was shifting back and forth, allowing her to be ready as soon as Trish appeared again.  Her foot came down, knocking the girl over.

Ruby: Got you, baby beetle.

Lillian: (laughs) Oh, too slow.  (to Ruby) Pin her.

            I noticed a twitch in Ruby’s body posture, bordering on a cringe, but without any more hesitation she plopped her foot down on top of her four-inch stepsister, aligning her roughly under the ball of her foot.

Lillian: Now Ruby, let’s see a little of that dexterity I know you’re so good at.  Pick her up.

            Another subtle twitch in Ruby could be seen, but she complied even faster this time, curling her toes around the tiny body underneath them until they had Trish in their grip.

Ruby: Better hold on tight.

            Ruby’s foot lifted off the ground as she swiveled back around on the ottoman to face her mother and I more fully, her leg poised parallel with the ground.  With both of her arms and the scruff of her shirt pinched in her younger stepsister’s comparatively prodigious toes, Trish hung somewhat limply from her perch, her head hung low.

Lillian: Better luck next time, Trish.  Maybe the two of you can play one more round for Mr. Taylor here.  I, though, unfortunately have to get going.

TC: I appreciate your time, Mrs. Williams.

Lillian: The pleasure’s all mine.  I’m just sorry we didn’t have more.  Ruby?

Ruby: Yes, Mom?

Lillian: Be sure to put on a good show.

            At this point, Lillian walked to a corner of the room where her purse was resting on a table and picked it up before heading for the front door.

Lillian: Like I said, Mr. Taylor, anything you need, ask Dorothy.  My daughter and Trish, I’m sure, will be happy to help as well.

            Here, Lillian exited the premises.  When I turned back to face Ruby again, with her stepsister still pinched by the arms in her toes, her gaze had shifted immediately over to the kitchen area, where Dorothy had resumed cleaning after bringing out coffee.

Ruby: Dorothy?  Could you do me a huge, huge favor and find my favorite rain boots?  I think I left them out behind the porch somewhere.

            Dorothy agreed to this with a silent nod and disappeared through a different doorway in the room, shutting it behind her.

            It was at this point that my skills as an analyst were once again given reason to feel challenged.

Ruby: Oh my God.  Trish?  Trish, are you okay?

            Ruby’s composure she’d been holding so carefully moments while casually dispensing her taunts down at her stepsister as she fled her foot for the game of tag suddenly dissipated.  The trembling I’d noticed in her shoulders earlier appeared in full force, and her voice was suddenly filled with concern, which I found initially hard to believe after what I’d just seen and heard her say.

Trish: I’m fine.

            Ruby quickly folded her leg in closer and cupped her hand under her toes, allowing her stepsister to easily climb into it.  She then brought Trish much closer to her face and, to my confused surprise, planted a kiss on top of her tiny head.

Ruby: Are you sure?  God, I didn’t mean to move that fast on that second one, it was just that Mom was…

Trish: (cutting in) It’s okay.

Ruby: No.  It’s not.

            At this point, Ruby’s voice was quavering with emotion, and though I wouldn’t have guessed it at that moment, she was on the verge of tears.  She brought Trish close and kissed the top of her head again before pressing her tiny stepsister to her cheek with gentleness I would’ve thought the girl totally incapable of previously, having witnessed what I just did.

Trish: Ruby?

Ruby: What?

            By this point, several tears were already trickling down the taller girl’s cheeks.

Trish: Please, I’m okay.  But what about him?

            Ruby, clearly beyond strained at this point, seemed to only just then remember my presence again, and she looked upon me with both embarrassment and fear.  All of us were speechless for a few more moments.

TC: Are you both all right?

Trish: I’m okay.  She is, too.

Ruby: No, I’m not.

            Ruby’s voice was cracking hard here as her face continued to dampen from her tears.  She still kept her stepsister cradled against her cheek.

TC: I’m sorry.  I just don’t understand what’s going on.

Trish: It’s complicated.

TC: (to Ruby) So you didn’t want to have to do what you just did?

Ruby: Of course not.

TC: Then why?  Why all of that show?

Ruby: Because I have to.

            At this statement, Ruby broke into choked sobs and hung her head while carefully lowering her cupped hands and four-inch stepsister down to her lap.

            I felt I could already understand her answer, but I had to know for sure.

TC: Why?

Trish: Because of Lillian.

TC: She told me, earlier.  How the first time you two worked together like this that Ruby didn’t punish you.  That was…

Trish: (cutting in) A mistake.  My fault.  We accidentally let Dorothy see us.  Ruby was just trying to protect me, and she ended up getting punished for it too.

Ruby: (to Trish) Please don’t say that.  It wasn’t your fault.

TC: What happened afterward?

Trish: Lillian wore both of us in her shoes for two days straight.

TC: Oh.

Trish: Yeah.

TC: So now you play-act in front of her to avoid the risk?

Ruby: Yes.  I pretend like that so Mom will go easier on her.  If I don’t, she doesn’t give her a chance.  She’s almost hurt her sometimes, and there’s nothing I can do about it.  The law lets her.

TC: I see.

Ruby: It’s the only way I can protect her.

Trish: Sir, you don’t have to tell anyone about this, do you?

TC: I-

Ruby: (cutting in) Please.  She’s my sister.  Please.  I’m all she has now.

            I have never in my life seen eyes beg as desperately as Ruby’s did at this moment while staring unblinkingly into mine.  Her every word was incredibly pained and brutally truthful, putting any lingering wonderment I had at her earlier behavior to rest.  There was another pause here, again on my part, as I was not entirely sure how best to proceed.

TC: I’m here to understand, not to enforce.  I have to respect my sources.

Trish: Thank you.

TC: You don’t have to thank me.  It’s my job.

            Ruby dried her eyes with a wrist here, still sniffling from the tears.  The thumb of the hand that still held Trish seemed to be giving her a comforting shoulder rub.

Ruby: No, we do.

TC: I have to say, though.  I don’t know that I can just leave you both.  In this situation, I mean, without at least looking into it.  Is there anything I can do to help?

Ruby: No.

TC: There has to be.

Trish: Lillian has this whole thing set just how she wants, and we can’t do anything about it until we’re not dependents anymore.  Juvy’s off the table for me.  And I don’t go up for review to get out of this for another eight months.

TC: I know this might be a hard question, but I still have to understand.  You don’t seem at all like the person I read about in my file, Trish.  Why?

Trish: You mean why did I do the things I did?

TC: Yes.

            I knew my questioning was bold and even out of line on a girl who’d clearly already been through so much, but in the blur of all this unfolding madness, it was something I had to know, and felt might become useful if I was going to be able to find any way to help the two girls.  Given the airtight regime of the Shrink Act, I knew it was a long shot, but I couldn’t help myself at this point.

Trish: I don’t have an answer.  I know the things I did were wrong, and I’m sorry about them.  I was just so sick and tired of how things were.  With school, and with my friends, and with Lillian.  I just… couldn’t figure out how to function again, and then when my dad… my dad…

            Here, Trish trailed off and slumped lower into her stepsister’s palm.  It was now her turn to cry too.  Ruby quickly brought her higher up again and kissed the top of Trish’s head a third time before settling into a pattern of running a fingertip up and down her stepsister’s back.

Ruby: Shhh.  Please, Trish, it’s okay.  It’s okay.  I’ve got you.  Don’t cry.  Please.

            As she continued comforting her stepsister, Ruby looked back up to me, a look of intense focus on her face.  Her words still quavered slightly but she had much more control over them here.

Ruby: Even if you don’t use this stuff I’m saying, just listen to me.  Okay?

TC: Okay.

Ruby: The Shrink Act is wrong.  Everything about it is sick and wrong.

Trish: Ruby, you don’t have to-

Ruby: (cutting in) Yes I do.  I don’t care now.  What kind of place do we live in, where it’s okay for that to happen?  What kind of… country?  For people to just be tiny and used however people want?  So what, it stops people from going to jail?  Well, this is worse than jail.  This is hell.

Trish: Ruby.

TC: I don’t know how yet, but I will do everything I can to help.  I promise.

Ruby: How can you?

TC: Because I am listening to you right now.

Ruby: You’re from the Techilogic company, aren’t you?

TC: Yes.

Ruby: And you know all about how the Shrink Act works.

TC: Yes.

Ruby: You have to know about things like this, then.  With Trish.  How it is for some people who have to live with it.  You have to.

TC: I’m seeing them more and more.

Ruby: Why are you here, asking these things?  What are you trying to do?

            There was a slight pause here, as I couldn’t imagine my answer, however earnest it was, could be enough for this anguished young girl.

TC: I didn’t want the voices of the people to be lost in the Shrink Act.

Ruby: If you really mean that, please.  Please don’t let hers be lost.

TC: I won’t.

            Note for later use: excise most materials from the second half of this report for personal investigation rather than publication, lest they fall onto the desk of a Techilogic executive or Lillian Williams, and my vow be broken.  Continued mention of this particular case will not be made throughout the remainder of my report until further investigation is complete in order to maintain the safety of my sources.

Special Memo to Mr. Howard Taylor, Research Analyst in Human Relations Dpt. - First Notice

To: Howard Taylor

From: Richard Philbin

Re: First Notice on “Shrink Act Files” Project

            Look, Taylor, I don’t know what’s been going on with you recently that’s made you even more impossible than usual, but I think it’s time you and I had another long talk in my office.  There are a few things that I had assumed we had straight after the last time you tried making a ruckus like this, but that’s apparently not the case, so now I have no choice but to point them out to you again.

            You’ve been with this company faithfully for nine years.  You’re a talented coordinator of special projects.  You’re a highly respected colleague and your opinion is valued by many of the executives in the Human Relations department and beyond.

            I think, though, that this state of affairs has led you to believe you are untouchable.  This would be an egregious error in judgment.

            When I got wind of the proposal for this “project” you’re working on, I was led to believe you were intending to research the effects of the MRD on groups of people from a redemptive and sociopolitical point of view, in order to help give reassurance as to the Shrink Act’s sustainability as a young program.

            What I did not expect to find you doing was tracking down sob stories, rare exceptions, and general collateral of what is nevertheless one of the greatest strides forward in criminal justice during the current century.

            First, on the Edwards family which you so unceremoniously ambushed with your attentions: may I remind you who, exactly, Dale Edwards was and is?  The man was dealing tens of thousands in narcotics every month and gambling most of it away.  After he ran away from his family, abandoning them with next to nothing, he held up eighteen different businesses and even injured four people during his various escapes.  You call that someone worth letting free again?

            Second, at South Hanenrow: how dare you?  Professor Taggert is a respected member of the faculty who’s been doing wonders for the school’s disciplinary system, and you chose to take potshots at her by viewing a very specific instance completely out of context in a single visit.  May I remind you that one of the students she’s correcting, who’s underage, no less, was not only drunk but dropping waste in the university dean’s yard.  If that’s not behavior that needs immediate correction, then I honestly can’t comprehend what sort of anarchy you seem to want for this world.  If that wasn’t enough, eight of the students she’s working with right now have been showing vast improvement in behavior and academics.

            And finally, on the Williams family: I can’t even begin to say anything more on this that hasn’t already been said very clearly, but I’ll try one more time to get it through your skull anyway.  That girl is pure and simple a little felon just waiting to happen.  She’s lucky she’s young enough that she hadn’t hit eighteen yet, because if she had, she’d be even worse off.  Just look at her behavior already.  She’s got a laundry list of what some call “juvenile” crime so they can still pretend they’re looking at a child, though frankly, any individual who’s got the initiative to light a piece of personal property on fire for the sheer fun of it deserves to be called anything but a child.

            Listen, before you go brushing this all off like you always do, I know full well I’m in the minority here.  There are enough people around in the Human Relations department and the rest of the company that like what you do and apparently are willing to fritter away thousands annually for you to trounce around the country listening to criminals whip up some tears and framing victimized individuals as the villains.  However, that does not in any way mean you can expect to be let off the hook for much longer.  I’m watching your every move, Taylor, and I’m going to ensure your playtime doesn’t last forever.

            I’ve heard you talk about the ethical use of the MRD before on a podium, spouting off like you have a clue about how a whole system functions based on one element.  Well, I’ve got news for you, Taylor.  What you’re doing here is trying to sabotage good works that only aim to keep families safe, save the taxpayers millions annually, and rehabilitate rather than rot away lawbreakers in a cell.  If you can fall asleep at night, knowing that you’re fighting such a peaceful and ideal future, you’re even worse than I thought.  You can stand on your soap box for as long as you want, but society will still continue to march forward right around you until it is just you all alone in the cold babbling at yourself.

            It would do you well to remember the name of the company that’s signing your paychecks as you continue on with whatever scheme you’ve raveled yourself into now.

Signed, Richard Philbin

Junior Executive of Interdepartmental Affairs

Report 5: The Lindon Family, Interview 1: Professor Abby Lindon

            At the behest of some of my superiors, who, to put it lightly, have not always been the most avid fans of my research, I am following up on a contact directly provided to me by an executive in my department for what he called the sake of balance in my study.  Though the content of my interviews remains solely in my possession, the previous locations and subjects of my study were easily discovered by those curious about my efforts, and the decision was reached that I am presenting what could be seen as a biased perspective.  This is something I am not unwilling to concede in certain aspects of the study.  In the interest of keeping an open mind to this viewpoint, then, as well as in the interest of remaining on good terms with those whose checks are larger than mine, I happily agreed to follow up the lead.

            Twenty-year-old Corey Lindon is an undergraduate sophomore pre-medical sciences student.  Four months ago, he was driving home from a night class just after eleven p.m. and taking a corner along a hill at the same time as a driver that had shifted partially into the oncoming lane due to the angle of the road.  Braking in attempt to minimize damage, Corey’s vehicle nevertheless went out of control and smashed into the side of the other car.  Though Corey sustained no permanent injury, the driver of the other vehicle perished after the impact when her car rolled through the protective railing and over the side of the hill.

            Despite the other driver being at fault as well for swerving, it was discovered that Corey’s car had been moving twenty miles in excess of the speed limit at the turn, and theorized based on several careful recreations by the justice department that the loss of life could’ve indeed been avoided if Corey had been observing the limit.

            Since his prosecution, Corey has been living under the Shrink Act’s shrunken house arrest program.  As mandated by the court, his size ranges from one to twelve inches, and he can leave the house three times a week for three hours at a time, though this will be subject to change pending further board reviews.  His size is alterable by any of his family members living in the house, including his father Howard, his stepmother Abigail, and his stepsister Claire.  Based on his positive behavior thus far, after a year of shrunken house arrest has been served, Corey will be returned to normal size on a probationary period wherein he can resume his schooling.  If he shows no signs indicative of further problems, he can remain that way.

            Upon arrival at the Lindon residence, I was greeted by the first interview subject of this report Abigail Lindon, who insisted later on that she be referred to as Abby in my file.  A professor of physics at Andrathoit University for just over a decade now, she’s recently taken on an additional role at the school thanks to it being among the first to integrate the Shrink Act into the disciplinary system; this will be further expounded on in the transcript.  After making greetings, she led me to a sitting area where we were able to begin the conversation.

TC: Hello, Professor Lindon.  It’s good to meet you in person finally.

Abby: Good to meet you too.  Could you remind me of your name again?

TC: Taylor.  Howard Taylor.

Abby: That’s right.  My apologies.

TC: No need for apologies.

Abby: It was just the last name I couldn’t remember, actually.  You have the same first name as my husband, so that was easy enough to remember.

TC: How about that.

Abby: It’s too bad he couldn’t be here.  He’s off on a plane somewhere headed to a conference.  He’d have been interested in being present for this too.

TC: I’d have liked to have heard his voice for this as well.  Maybe at the follow-up interview, the timing will work out a little better for everyone.

Abby: I do hope so.

TC: Where, if I may ask, is Corey?

Abby: I believe he’s upstairs with his sister.

TC: Oh, I see. 

Abby: They get along very well.

TC: That’s good.  Does he spend time with her often?

Abby: She sees to it that he does. (laughs) She did miss him so much while he was away at school. 

TC: That’s nice.  I was hoping they’d both be up for an interview as well after you and I have finished?

Abby: Of course.

TC: Excellent.  Now, just so I don’t take up too much of your time, if you’re ready, we can begin.

Abby: All right.

TC: Could you describe your family’s experience with The Shrink Act?

Abby: It’s a somewhat complicated answer.  After this mess that Corey was involved in, it didn’t look like he’d have the chance to serve his sentence here at first.  The court was pushing very hard for a prison sentence.  Surprisingly so, I think, given the accidental circumstances.  So I worked to make sure they all knew how much better off Corey’s learning process and readjustment before returning to independent life would be if he served his time here rather than in a cell.  My sister-in-law Kayla Everett was a big help as well.  You could say she has friends in higher places.  Together we made sure his time would be served here.

TC: If I’m to understand, then, you’re saying that bearing in mind the alternatives, The Shrink Act has been a positive outcome?

Abby: Yes.  Definitely.  It’s allowed us to make sure he can stay safe and healthy while still serving his societal debt.

TC: Still on that point, from a more general perspective, would you mind sharing your thoughts on The Shrink Act?

Abby: I think it’s a positive step in the justice system.  And… I’m sorry, I know this wasn’t part of your question, but it’s important, I think, to understand my position.

TC: No, please, by all means.  Go ahead.

Abby: There’s no call for drawn-out detail here, but the circumstances I grew up in were… well, significantly more difficult than the ones my children are growing up in now.  I’ve been exposed to many a scenario in my life where a measure like The Shrink Act rather than just jail time piled on top of jail time might’ve greatly improved the state of the community at large, as well as its offenders.

TC: I see.  So overall, you see the Act as beneficial.

Abby: I do, yes.

TC: Before we go much further into the main reason for my visit, regarding Corey’s case, there was one other relevant subject I wanted to at least touch on regarding your work at the university.

Abby: Ah, yes, I had a feeling you’d bring this up.

TC: Would you be willing to share a bit about your new position as a disciplinary officer at Andrathoit?

Abby: Of course.  The university was one of the first to adopt the Shrink Act.  The fifth in the nation, if I’m not mistaken?

TC: That sounds right.

Abby: Well, anyway, I had heard about it and only considered becoming an officer at first, but several of my colleagues ended up recommending me.  It was definitely the right choice.  Not only is it rewarding for me to get to work with students one-on-one in their rehabilitation, it’s been a very constructive restructuring of the university’s methodology for handling problems that arise in the student body.

TC: How so?

Abby: Much like with Corey, it allows for a personalized and safe environment in helping correct behavior and fostering personal improvement.  The old system would see them go on probation, and from there it was in the hands of a board to decide whether or not they were let go.  There was no chance for redemption.

TC: But now?

Abby: But now they have the chance to help their case.  They can prove they’re actively trying to make a change in their lives by demonstrating it during disciplinary sessions in their conversations and, more importantly, their behaviors with an officer.  I believe everyone deserves this kind of chance.

TC: Tell me, then, how does the system work in terms of carrying out the sessions?  I spoke to a professor at South Hanenrow University, actually, in one of my previous cases, who outlined it well.

Abby: They were first to use the system, weren’t they?

TC: Yes.  And from what I understood there, structuring of the probation is based largely around when the students have time between academic work to come in.

Abby: That’s much how it is with me.  Students are actually supposed to complete their shrunken sessions during office hours, but I know many of them have hectic schedules, so occasionally I’ll take someone home for the evening, to ensure they have time to meet their other obligations as well.  Not all officers are as lenient, but the way I see it, we don’t want the sessions to derail their efforts as young scholars.

TC: Of course not.  And from there?  How is their time spent?

Abby: Productively.  Often times I’ll have some cleaning for them to do, though depending on their behavior and the reason for their probation, I’ll put together additional lessons that might help them once they get back in a classroom.  These sessions are supposed to be for personal improvement, after all.

TC: Interesting.  And are all cases handled like that?

            Abby shifted almost imperceptibly in her chair, presumably mulling over her answer for an extra instant, though her tone and poise remained in an air of complete confidence.

Abby: Not all.  I answer whatever student behavior I am presented with using an equal consequence.  If more… demonstrative actions are required in order to make a point clearer, then I don’t shy from them.  To do so would be a disservice to the integrity of the law and the students themselves.

            I considered pressing for a little more detail, but sensed not much more would be offered up, and as I still had yet to hear more with regard to Corey Lindon, the main reason for my visit, I continued.

TC: I see.  Thank you for sharing all of that.

Abby: No problem.

TC: Now, getting back, specifically, to your family’s experience with the Shrink Act: could you share the ways in which you’ve adjusted your home life to account for Corey’s sentence?

Abby: Absolutely.  I make no mistake about it: Corey is serving time here, not getting let off the hook for what happened.  I believe in the same principles for my son that I do for my students.  We make sure to take advantage of his time avoided in prison by respecting the decision by the justice system.  Accordingly, we use certain methods to ensure this fact is known well.

TC: What kinds of methods would those be?

Abby: Most of his time during the day is spent helping take care of the house.  Cleaning, dusting, polishing, whatever we can find a way for him to manage at twelve inches tall.  Recently we’ve been experimenting with ways he can help with the cooking too, though of course I don’t let him near any hot stoves at his size.

TC: Of course not.

Abby: He’s not just working through the day, though.  There is recreation time in prison for personal improvement, after all, and I insist on sticking closely to a certain schedule to benefit Corey in whatever ways we can, not just through manual labor.  A full recovery can’t be achieved simply with physical work, after all, which is why The Shrink Act is so much better than jail time.

TC: So his time is not solely used working in the house, then.  What other ways is it spent?

Abby: A variety.  Academically is one.  I hold my children to a high standard of effort, because I know they’re both fully capable of it when they set their minds to their goals.  So, I see little reason why Corey’s education has to be deterred by his time here.  It’s a similar line of thinking from my work as a disciplinary officer, really.

TC: That’s a very positive outlook.  How does Corey continue with his learning?

Abby: He has a tablet that we loaded up with some of the textbooks he was going to use in his next semester courses, as well as some online lesson plans that he can carry out himself through study and completing assignments.  He’ll still take them in person once the sentence is over, but it seemed prudent to be familiar with them ahead of time.

TC: It does indeed.  That actually leads to something else I was going to ask about.  What are Corey’s plans after his sentence is over, exactly?  I know he was a sophomore in college in the science program.

Abby: Yes, that’s correct, and he’s been attending the university for two years.  Medical school will come after he graduates.  He’s going to be a doctor.  Like his father.

            Abby’s answer came with a genuine degree of warmth and pride for Corey.

TC: That’s wonderful.  So as you see it, once Corey’s sentence is served, he’ll return to his education?

Abby: I have every confidence in him.  It matters so much to him, and to us.  This situation has just been… a stumbling block.  Not a wall.

TC: I’m glad to hear it.  Now, I understand you were in possession of a PMRD for disciplinary purposes a number of years before The Shrink Act, is that correct?

Abby: It is, yes.

TC: Was it used often back then?

Abby: I wouldn’t call it often.  Just whenever it was necessary.

TC: How much of your system, just as a parent back then, has carried over to the current situation, where you’re acting not only as a parent but as a warden for a legally mandated shrinking?

Abby: That’s a good question.  I like to think my role as a parent, in terms of helping my children improve themselves, is not terribly distant from my new role of a warden.  The same goes for my work as a disciplinary officer.  I know there are certain negative connotations with a word like “warden,” but I insist on Corey taking his time here seriously.

TC: How were things back then?

Abby: Back when he was a teenager?  On the occasions he’d act up, there would be consequences very similar to the ones he faces here with regard to helping care for the house, though usually only for a day or so, depending on what had happened.  Very little has changed since then; everyone here is held fully accountable for their actions.

TC: Any instances you’d be willing to make example of?

Abby: Well, for one, about three years ago we had to ground him after some… less than mature choices he made for himself, but Howard and I both had to leave town for the weekend.  Claire handled his supervision then.  It was her first time doing so.

TC: Interesting.  And she would’ve been thirteen years old back then, yes?

Abby: Right.  I know it sounds young, but Howard and I have tremendous trust in both of our children.  And as I had suspected, they got along very well, and Corey was diligently cared for.  He may have been embarrassed, as I’m sure he still is from time to time while living here again under our care, but that’s all just part of learning and growing.

            I was tempted to point out the irony of this last word of Abby’s, but decided the context of it might not be taken as innocently as I intended it, so I pressed onward instead.

TC: How has Corey taken to his sentence, then?  Would you say you’ve seen a change in him of any kind?

Abby: Not necessarily a change “in him.”  Overall he’s always been a responsible citizen.  At most, his behavior’s a bit more docile than before, though there are understandable reasons for that.  His personality is still as it was, though.  He’s interested in helping people, and has always had a kind heart.  That’s another reason why I believe The Shrink Act ended up being such a blessing for us, given the alternate options.

TC: How so?

Abby: You hear stories all the time of people damaged by their time in prison that emerged drastically altered from when they entered.  A shell, almost, of their former self.  That’s what’s so wrong with the old system.

TC: Pardon, but you say “old” system.

Abby: Yes?

TC: Are you saying you foresee the Shrink Act eventually replacing prison sentences completely?

Abby: Not entirely, no, but I think it will continue to grow as people realize how much good it’s doing.  We’re already seeing the signs of it through its permeation into respected universities and prominent businesses.  If that trend does indeed bring about a broad change to our justice system, I can’t say I’m opposed.

TC: Fascinating.

Abby: There’s just no chance for rehabilitation in prison like there is here.  It doesn’t so much fix the problem as cripple a single outlet for it.  I realize house arrests aren't viable options in many cases, but there are just as many that don't belong behind bars.  Particularly in Corey’s case, it would’ve broken my heart to see something like that happen.

TC: I understand.  So it’s about correcting a problem rather than altering the entire source.

Abby: Yes.  All we want is to teach a lesson and change the behavior, not change Corey.  We would never want that.

TC: I see.  I thank you so much for sharing.  That almost wraps it up.  One last question: how do you see all this looking in the future?  At the end of this year-sentence, where do things go?  For your family, and for Corey specifically?

            Abby smiled here and considered the question for a moment, crossing her arms, her tone very sincere.

Abby: I fully believe that, going forward, everything that happens will be for the best.

Report 5: The Lindon Family, Interview 2: Claire Lindon and Corey Lindon

            Abby led me upstairs to her daughter’s bedroom before heading back again, saying she wanted her children to have the benefit of a secluded and unbiased environment for the interview, a position I was grateful for, as it had most certainly not been the reality with some of my prior cases.

            Claire was dressed in what looked like a high school soccer league uniform and seated at the desk in her room, resting her cheek against her fist and slowly moving her lips, when the pair of us entered so Abby could introduce me.  Corey was nowhere to be seen.

TC: Hi, Claire.  My name’s Howard Taylor.  I think your mother mentioned I was coming?

Claire: Yes.  You’re from Techilogic, aren’t you?

TC: Yes.

Claire: Cool.

TC: Well, thank you.  I’m not sure I’ve ever had that label ascribed to me.  I was hoping I’d be able to speak to your brother, too.  Is he around somewhere close?

            Claire giggled as she lifted her head away from the fist she had it leaned against, though she kept her elbow against the surface of the desk.

Claire: Yes, he is.

            Slowly, she opened up her fist, revealing the inch-tall form of Corey Lindon in the center of her upturned palm.

TC: Ah.  Hello, Corey?

Corey: Hi.

            Corey’s voice was soft due to being the minimum allowable height of the PMRD, but considering he had just been closed up in the darkness and presumably increased heat of his sister’s fist, he sounded surprisingly animated.

TC: If you’re both ready, would you be willing to answer a few questions for me about your family’s experience with The Shrink Act?

Claire: Sure, go ahead.

Corey: Okay.

TC: Thank you.  Just to start off, I was hoping to get a little intro information about the both of you.  Whatever you’re willing to share.

            Claire and Corey looked to one another, waiting to see who’d go first, before Claire shrugged and took the lead.

Claire: I’m sixteen.  I’m a sophomore this year.  Starting forward on the varsity team, too.  Soccer.  (laughs) I guess you probably guessed the sport from what I’m wearing.

TC: I did.  And Corey?  What about you?

Corey: I’m twenty, and a sophomore at Aegis University, majoring in pre-med.  Also varsity soccer.  I’m in a fraternity, too.

TC: That all sounds great, both of you, thanks.  And Corey, I was a fraternity brother myself.  Which do you belong to?

Corey: Beta house.

TC: Good man.  Sorry now, moving forward.  Didn’t mean to go off on a tangent.  Could I maybe get the both of you to describe how Corey’s time here has impacted your home life?  What’s changed?

Claire: It’s actually not a lot different, at least to me, but what is different is so nice.  We have to make sure we watch where we’re walking more so we don’t step on him, but Mom says there’s going to be little walkways on some of the walls soon for Corey to use so we don’t always have to worry as much.  The house always looks a lot cleaner, and I get to spend more time with my big brother.

            I reflected momentarily on the inherent humor of the specific title Claire used for Corey, but there was no trace of joking in her tone.

TC: That’s great.

Claire: Plus, he gets to leave the house three times a week, so he can come see me play again at practice and all the games.  That’s my favorite part.

TC: Corey?  What do you have to say about it?

Corey: Well, a lot for me has changed.  Obviously.  But not just the being small thing, or working here instead of being at school.   Everything’s changed.

TC: Like what?

Corey: The way I’m thinking about things, really.  I feel… awful broken up about what happened on the road that night.  I know that sounds kind of weak, to just sum it up like that, but it’s because I really don’t have the words for it.  I can’t even describe it.  It’s been hard, but going forward, I know I have to face what happened, for myself and for everybody.  I have to.

            As an experienced analyst, I pride myself on being able to detect with startling accuracy when an interviewee is lying to me, or at the very least inflating the truth to win brownie points.  Neither was happening here.  Corey’s words, very convincing on their own, became softer at these statements, and I suspected it was to hide a trembling tenor to his voice.  He hung his head a little lower, though he probably didn’t need to, as his expression was already tougher to gauge at one inch in height.  Claire’s thumb brushed a single time with delicate tenderness down her brother’s back.

TC: Interesting.  Is that all?

Corey: I guess I’d say the kind of mindset I want when I get to go back to school has changed.  I… want to be a doctor someday.  I hope.  I’m going to start putting that more at the front of my mind now, more than I was before even.

            I was surprised by how much Corey was contributing here already, given the past results I’d received in trying to interview the actual incarcerated individuals of the shrunken house arrests in the presence of a caretaker.  From what I’d seen before, answers were really only provided when an aggressive glance was provided by whoever was holding them, but no such thing was required here.  It was encouraging to see this kind of open conversation and thoughtful response that didn’t come off as pure pandering.

TC: I know this is off the subject, but I’m curious now, Corey.  What made you want to be a doctor?

Corey: My dad had a big part in it, but I’ve always loved the science.  And I want to help people.  That’s… the main thing of it.

            Claire was silently beaming down at her brother through all this as she kept her palm perfectly steady on its horizontal axis.

TC: I see.  That’s a great way of looking at things, I’d say.

Corey: It’s just what I’ve always wanted.

Claire: He’s so smart.  He’s going to be so great at it.

TC: Has it been all positive changes, then, in the stay back at home?

Claire: Yes.

Corey: I think so.  Especially since I was almost… in a cell somewhere, instead of here with my family.  I’m treated well here while still having to atone for what I did, and I take that very seriously.  So do they.

TC: That leads to my next question well.  In what ways is your rehabilitation served?

Corey: Whatever ways I can.  Mostly cleaning the house.  I put a lot of time into studying, too, so I don’t fall behind in school.  But mostly however I’m needed, and whatever I’m able to do on my own.

TC: Your mother was telling me a little about the benefits of being able to serve your time here.  How much does your family contribute directly to your rehabilitation?

Corey: Well, Mom’s usually pretty busy with her work at the university.  Plus, sometimes she’s already busy working with… other people, but she makes time to help me.  I really want to show that I can make responsible use of time, so I’ll get my jobs in the morning and have until nighttime to finish them.  It’s usually just me working on my own.

Claire: Except when he’s with me.

Corey: Except when I’m with Claire.

TC: Do you have anything to add about this, Claire?  Do you participate much in your brother’s rehabilitation?

            Claire shrugged.

Claire: Yes.  Every time I make him smaller.  Smaller than the twelve inches Mom usually keeps him at, I mean.

TC: I see.  Do you shrink him yourself often?

Claire: Yeah, if we’re going to hang out and Mom doesn’t need him to work on the house or study.

TC: How small do you make him?

Claire: I let him help me decide sometimes, but mostly I just make him like he is now.

TC: Which is?

            Another smirk spread over Claire’s face.

Claire: An inch.

TC: Why, if I may ask, do you settle on that height for him?

Claire: He’s easier to keep track of, I guess. I know that sounds weird, but he is, because he can’t really go anywhere on his own until Mom gets the little walkways.  I have to take him to make sure he stays safe, and keep him warm.  Plus, if I need him to help me clean up something, he just does it.

TC: I see.  It’s good that your relationship as siblings is like that, to be able to make things easier with this situation now.

Corey: I’m glad about it.

Claire: (laughs) You weren’t always glad about it, were you?  When we were little?

Corey: Maybe.  I’m pretty sure at those times you weren’t exactly “little” though.

Claire: That’s true.  But you still didn’t like it much at first. (to me)  He didn’t like it much at first.

TC: You’re saying things weren’t always so positive?

Corey: I guess you could say that, yeah.

Claire: But not anymore.  Now everything’s good, and since he’s here to work and learn, he doesn’t say no.

TC: Interesting.  So has there ever been a problem, then?  Has he ever refused a request you’ve given?

            There was a pause here as Claire gave me a look as though I’d suddenly tried conducting the interview in a foreign language.

Claire: No.  Why would he?

            I glanced at Corey, whose expression remained unchanged by his sister’s statement.

TC: What kinds of work might you have Corey help you with, then?

Claire: Not much, since Mom already has him do a lot of the house, but just stuff in my room, mostly.  If I got mud on my cleats at practice the night before, usually he’ll work on that.  His little fingers can get into the treads better.

TC: I see.  That makes sense.  Moving forward now, what are your views of The Shrink Act overall?

            Claire looked down at Corey in her palm expectantly, obviously allowing him to take a turn.

Corey: Um, I guess I’ll go first.  I’m glad I was given the chance.  You know, to learn from what happened, and take some time to really think about it, because I have a responsibility.  A big responsibility.

TC: I know it’s a difficult subject, but could you say any more on that responsibility?

            Corey let out a deep sigh before proceeding.

Corey: Okay.  What I did to Marion, the woman in that car.  We both made big mistakes that night, and she died because of it while I walked away, and I can never make that all the way right again, but I still have to do what I can.  Here, I can do it in a place I feel safe, but keep working back to where I was before.  I think if it can be good for me, it could be for others, too.  And it’s better than prison.

            Corey’s words sounded intensely remorseful.  Despite the painful implications, I can’t help but wonder, as an aspiring medical student with as much grounding in helping people, how much the situation he became involved with truly damaged him.  Nevertheless, that wasn’t a question for this particular interview, nor something I could probably have accurately gleaned.

TC: And Claire?  What about you?  What are your thoughts on The Shrink Act?

            A little grin crossed Claire’s lips here.

Claire: I like it.

TC: All right.  Care to elaborate at all?

Claire: I’m just glad Corey’s home.  I know his school’s important, but after what happened, he had to either go to jail or come here for a while.  This is so much better.

TC: How so?

Claire: Well, I like that he’s living back home with us again, but also, I don’t think jail would’ve been right.  What he did… he still did it because he was going too fast, but it was really the other person.  The lady.  Marion.  She did it.  It happened because of her.

TC: Interesting.  Please correct me if I’m misunderstanding, but you’re saying it wasn’t really his fault?

Claire: No.  It wasn’t.  I know he says it was, but it wasn’t.

            I found myself somewhat perplexed at this moment, wondering if I had phrased my questions poorly and Claire had misunderstood.  Corey, though difficult to read at such a small height, looked a bit distraught at these statements of his sister’s.

TC: So why do it?  Why make him an inch, I mean.

            Here, I watched as Claire’s fingers began curling upward and over her brother again in the center of her palm.  He ducked down before they’d even overtaken him, and a moment later she’d sealed him back inside without squeezing again in the slightest.  She glanced coyly at her fist.

Claire: Because I get to do this.

            I paused in my questioning for an uncomfortable moment.  After a few more seconds, Claire unrolled her fist again, allowing her brother to sit up straight again in her palm.  I quickly moved on.

TC: I’m curious about something else that the both of you can answer.  I know we touched on this to an extent before.  How has your relationship as siblings been affected, if at all, by The Shrink Act?  Is it different?

            Corey swallowed audibly, something I was slightly impressed by given his scale, and seemed to more or less recover from his pained state after the discussion of his blame, or at least enough to give a steady answer.

Corey: A little bit, yeah.

TC: How so?

Claire: He doesn’t get to see his friends as much, so I’m mostly all he’s got.

            Corey shrugged at this, not entirely in disagreement with this hijacked explanation.

Corey: Um.  Yeah.  Sort of.

Claire: He gets to see my friends, though, when they come visit me.  And they all like him a lot, so it’s really like he just gets to see different friends now.

Corey: Uh-huh.

TC: I see.  Meaning you all hang out together?

Claire: Yes.  I almost get jealous sometimes, actually.  They talk to him a ton.  A lot more than when he was normal-size.

TC: That’s nice, though, that you all get along.  I’m curious.  Did they have to adjust at all to being around someone under the supervision of the Act?

Corey: Just at first.

Claire: They know how to be safe around him.  My friend Melody’s sister Ashley is on a Shrink Act sentence right now, too, and she’s usually at an inch, so she knows how to treat him.  And Mellie’s nice to everybody and super gentle.  Even Jenna’s really careful with him, too.  Mostly.

TC: Interesting.  So that prior experience, then, helps out.

Claire: Yeah.  And everyone’s better off.

TC: Would you say that would be the case most of the time?  I mean in situations where any person is serving a shrunken house arrest.

            Claire gave me another funny look.

Claire: Yeah.  Wouldn’t it always be?

TC: Well, I don’t know.  That’s up to you to answer.  What do you think about it?

Claire: I don’t know why it wouldn’t always be the best way to do it.  It’s so nice.  You get a place to learn your lesson still, but it’s in your house with your family.  And who takes care of you better than your own family?

            I resolved to restrain from the sudden urge I felt to name drop a few incidents that would probably disprove such an absolute statement.  Once again, this interview was not the time or place for such things.

TC: Interesting.  Corey, would you agree?

            He paused for a moment, I daresay not as unflinchingly confident in his stance on it as his sister.

Corey: Yeah.  Yeah, I think it would be better.  Most of the time.

TC: Thank you.  Was there anything either of you wanted to add before we wrap up?

Corey: Nope.

Claire: About anything?

TC: Anything at all.

Claire: Okay.  Um.  I guess I’m just really glad The Shrink Act is around.  For my big brother, and for everybody.

            Corey actually nodded at this statement of his sister’s, and I think given the possible other circumstances he might’ve personally found himself in, he wasn’t wrong to agree in this case.

TC: I guess we’re about done, then.  Would you both be willing to speak to me again in six months for a follow-up?

Claire: Sure.

TC: Excellent.  I appreciate your time, both of you.

Claire: You’re welcome. (to Corey) Aren’t you going to say bye to him?

            Here, Claire lifted a fingertip under Corey’s hand, motivating him to lift it up.  Her finger remained in place even once he started waving on his own to help give guidance.

Corey: Bye!

            I exited the premises of the Lindon household a few minutes later with a cordial farewell from the family and the invitation to return in six months for a follow-up.  I extended my gratitude and then began the drive back to the airport.

            If my suspicions weren’t in place before, I now know full well why this specific case was recommended to me.  The overall positive atmosphere of the Lindons’ experience with The Shrink Act and PMRD is one that could practically fit into a promotional pamphlet for Techilogic, or at least on a surface level.  There are still various inclinations I have to observe the family’s interactions further for more detailed analysis, but that will be best reexamined at the follow-up rather than now with only one round of interviews.  It is indeed a case that will stand in contrast to the information I’ve gathered previously, and the only one, I should think, of my compiled files that will not upset Techilogic executives, nor most of the general public.

            For the benefit of a preemptive defense, I will state here and now that the presence of cases like this one was in no way a surprise to me.  In short, my intention was never to deny the existence of more positive implementations of The Shrink Act like with the Lindons.  The system can and has been proven to be more effective than prison on an instance-by-instance basis; I am the first to admit that fact, as I have about two years’ worth of data that I collected myself from other projects that can firmly attest to such in light of the new law.

            Though I left the Lindon house feeling very gratified to know it worked out so well for Corey Lindon, all things considered, there are still lingering issues on my mind, not the least among which are Corey’s fully confessional stance on the accident he was involved in and Claire’s enjoyment at keeping a man she openly believes is innocent at the smallest possible height.  From a larger perspective, though, I still feel a certain curiosity about the utter confidence the members of the household seemed to have in the integrity of shrunken house arrests.  Even Corey, who would probably have the greatest reason to feel shortchanged by it, displayed earnest feelings of gladness toward it all.

            For now, these concerns of mine are pushed to the side as I am convinced that the Act has indeed been a boon to the Lindons, and as this study’s primary purpose was and continues to be the affirmation of the human condition’s maintenance in Shrink Act participants, I am satisfied with the results.  It is my hope that with completion of this case, my superiors will be temporarily appeased and convinced of the balanced nature of my study, thus giving me a greater chance of success in pursuing further subjects that, in opposition to the Lindon case, Techilogic might prefer to have pushed under the rug.

Report 3: South Hanenrow University, Interview 3: Shelby Bill

            I was surprised when I finally returned to my office at Techilogic after hopping across the country for interviews to find a message waiting for me on my answering machine from none other than Shelby Bill from Hanenrow University.  She expressed a desire to contribute additional commentary to her portion of the interview.  Apparently, my last-ditch effort of handing her a card as she walked way after her session with the professor was not in vain.

            As my issues with certain of my superiors here at the company have continued despite my previous case with the Lindons being a sort of peace offering to their image-conscious sensibilities, I ensured to take the call with Shelby after normal business hours in the comfort of my apartment, in order to minimize curious ears that might want to wander in.  At this point, I’ve concluded that the fewer people I have trying to get a good look at my study before its completion, the better.

            Shelby picked up the phone after just one ring.  Her voice sounded tired, but with an undeniable air of determination.  I had a suspicion that research would be required during out conversation, so I had my computer and a number of files I keep copies of at home pulled up at my desk for examination, should it come up in the discussion.

TC: Hi, Shelby.  It’s Howard Taylor.  I appreciated you giving me a call.

Shelby: Hey.  Yeah, it’s okay.  I… needed to be able to talk about all this somewhere.

TC: Well, I’m certainly glad you used my card, then.

Shelby: I guess this probably seems kind of weird, right?  That I need to talk about the PMRD to someone without Taggert knowing what I said, and I go right back to a guy from the same company who made the freaking thing?

TC: I admit I did found it a little curious, but regardless-

Shelby: (cutting in) Before I talk about anything, though, there’s something I want you to know.

TC: Yes?
Shelby: I’m out of it now.  Patience, energy, all of it.  Honestly, I’m losing my direction for everything.  I just can’t anymore.  Whatever I have left of it now has to go toward this.  And so even if everything I say to you right now gets funneled straight back onto Taggert’s desk, well… I don’t give a shit.  Because it’s time it got said, even with that possibility.  Have you got that?

TC: Yes.  But I assure you, I have no intention of doing anything that will put the subject of my studies at risk.

Shelby: I know, and I want to believe you, which is why I called you.  I looked you up, and I like the things you’ve said.  For shrunken rights, I mean.  Ethical treatment and all that.  I just wanted you to know that first.

TC: Fair enough.  Shall we begin?

Shelby: Sure.  I’m guessing we don’t really have to do this like an interview anymore, do we?

TC: We can do it however you want.  If you want me to ask you about it, I will.  If not, you can just talk.

Shelby: Sure, yeah.  Well, you probably already have an idea of what I think of all this, after what I said right before Taggert stuck me back in her… um…

TC: Yes, I think I can guess, but if you don’t mind, I’d like to get it in your words.

Shelby: Well, at this point, I might as well throw it out there, right?  About the Shrink Act.  It’s messed up.  The whole thing is a completely massive wipe.  From the ground up, it’s flawed, and the further you go up in it, it just gets worse and worse.  It’s like it’s poisoned.

TC: Could you elaborate?

Shelby: Yeah.  Look, it’s a replacement for prison, right?  I know it’s working for some people, and sure, maybe people aren’t getting shivved in the gut on a house arrest.  But if anything, it’s made the problems we should have with prisons even bigger.

TC: How so?

Shelby: It’s like going into a vacuum.  And for what?  Look, I was a fucking idiot for what I did.  I admit that.  I don’t mind in the least standing for what I did.  But what I’m having to do because of it now?  It doesn’t line up.

TC: I had a similar wonder about it when I visited your school.

Shelby: And as for shrunken house arrests.  Yeah, you’re living with people you know… usually, but do you know how much they can get away with on their own?  How much trust gets placed in them just because they personally know the person- specifically, a person nobody else wants to have to handle?

TC: A great deal of it.

Shelby: That’s an understatement.  They’re supposed to report to a board about behavior, they’re supposed to take notes about the progress of it all for a report, and they’re supposed to be open to occasional “randomized” checks to ensure a good environment for personal growth and development, but do you know how often those checks get done?

TC: Infrequently.

Shelby: Like, never.  And when they do, they all pass with flying colors, way more than makes sense before you even know the statistics of it.  They only fail the check when the situation is so bad that the shrunken people are malnourished or need to go to a hospital and those things get hushed up real fast.  Nobody wants to have to look into it once the sentence is down.  And I think I know why.

TC: Why?

Shelby: Well, you probably already know what I’m going to say.  Techilogic’s got its mitts in every pot, and its money in enough places that… well, I’m not saying they’re paying people off or whatever.  I have no proof of that, so I won’t go there, because I want you to take me seriously.  But let’s face it, they’ve been working really hard for a decade now bolstering certain places higher than ever before and giving them chances they didn’t have to reach people.  Law enforcement, the justice department, international trade relations.  Hell, every important building in DC.  Who’s really going to want to mess with their system if it’s doing this much good?  Or what looks like good, anyway.  They let them do their thing, the streets stay cleaner, people are quieter about the penal system, and they get to keep swimming in Techilogic’s pool of magic money.

TC: I see where you’re coming from.  It’s a big statement to make.  You’re right, it’s tough to say anything without proof, but you are correct.  Techilogic has a far reach.

Shelby: I know.  I know I can’t just go throwing things like that around definitively yet.  But you want to know the sad thing about all that stuff?  Even if Techilogic doesn’t have to hide anything or at least make it look less obvious that, well… that the system itself is just openly fucked up.  Sorry.

TC: Go on, please.

Shelby: Here’s the thing.  The caretakers, or supervisors, or whatever?  You know, the people in charge of watching the shrunken people?  If they angle things right, they can do… anything to the people.  Anything they want.  Doesn’t matter who they are.  I don’t have to tell you, because you were there to see it.  You talk too much, and a professor can make you an inch tall and stick you under her fucking toes in her shoe while she sweats all over you and walks around on top of you if she wants, and every other step could break an arm or something if she doesn’t know what she’s doing.  Maybe worse than that.  Like, does nobody care about that?  At all?  That people can just do that?

TC: Some do, but I suppose there’s not enough of a movement to get a change happening yet.

Shelby: No kidding.  Would something like that have flown at all, say, twenty years ago?  Before all this blew up?  I don’t think so.  Look, I know I’m beating around the bush, and I said I’m sick of not being open about it to someone, so I’ll just say it loud and clear so you have it in your record, okay?

TC: Okay.

Shelby: Abuse.  It’s goddamned abuse, and it’s criminal.  The Shrink Act and shrunken house arrests are mandated abuse.  Taggert is a criminal.  Professors, bosses, teachers, parents, aunts and uncles, siblings.  They’re all criminals, every single one of them, who do something to a shrunken person without any kind of authority they have to answer to.  I don’t care what they do, who they are, how much money they have.  If they’re autonomous in what they’re doing, they’re the bad guy.

TC: Go on.

Shelby: They can hurt people, you know.  It’s not in the rules, but there’s enough that any idiot can read between the lines and figure out how to do it.  If they end up hurting the shrunken person a little, like as an accident, at most they get a little slap on the wrist if they can just make sure it gets taken care of okay.  And coincidentally, who gets to actually even judge if it was an accident to begin with?

TC: The caretaker.

Shelby: Bingo.  The Shrink Act just hands lives over to people, okay?  That’s what it does.  They hand people a fucking inch-tall living toy that they can play with however the hell they want, like they’re not even a person anymore.  Like they don’t have rights.  Not even people in prisons have it like that.  And yet nobody bats an eye anymore because Techilogic’s people can just pour money on whatever the problem is or send out somebody to give a speech if anyone starts asking too many questions.  But people like me aren’t even the ones with the worst of it.

TC: Who is?

Shelby: People who have to live with their families, obviously.  See, I can drop out of the school if I want to escape that shit with Taggert, but I stay because I’ve got four rec letters riding on my graduation that’ll set me up for life afterward, but for God’s sake.  The number of people that have nowhere to go if things aren’t working out?

TC: I’ve run into a few cases like that before, yes.  I know what you’re talking about.

Shelby: The caretakers answer to nobody.  Fucking nobody.  And you’ve got no direction to go in, once you’re in that house.  Your ass is theirs.

TC: I gather you know a little about those numbers, then.

Shelby: You could say that.  The law’s new enough that we can’t even hear from the people in the longer term ones yet.  You know, the ones with more security and a longer chance for the caretakers to do whatever they want?  So who knows what the hell those will look like when they’re done, but I can’t imagine it’ll be pretty.

TC: A fair prediction.

Shelby: But even the ones on really minor offenses that are already out on probation.  Some of them are talking out about them.  Not a lot, but enough to at least pay attention.  When I was looking around, I found maybe fifty or sixty accounts, both anonymous and identified, from people who got out of shrunken house arrests and were reporting abuse of some kind.  Either sleep deprivation or withholding food and water, sometimes stuff worse than that, and more direct.  They were getting… played with.  However their caretaker wanted.  And I wasn’t even looking for those for that long.

TC: I’ve seen those reports too.  I agree that they’re troubling.  Most people don’t put as much stock in them, on the off-chance that they hear about them at all, not just because they’re coming from “criminals,” but because of how quiet they’ve become.

Shelby: That’s not the half of it.  I wasn’t kidding when I said these people are in a vacuum.  Prisoners in a penitentiary, in addition to having at least some protection from just being dropped down a fucking hole for their entire sentence, you can at least hear what they have to say if you go through the right channels.  You’ll find somebody who’ll talk to you.  Somebody.  But with this?  Almost nobody.  Well, what am I doing, talking about that to you?  You already know it with what you’re doing now.

TC: I do.  Finding the willing cases that I did wasn’t the easiest.

Shelby: And you’ve still got connections because of Techilogic that must’ve helped get you in.

TC: Right.

Shelby: See, most other people who try to get interviews or at least get a glimpse of the kind of life these house arrest wards on are?  Nothing.  Zippo.  Nobody gets to see or hear anything at all.  The stray ones that do get out are obscure at best.  You have to infer half the information.  If you really want to make sense of any of it, you just have to know people personally.  And those accounts exist, too.  People trying to raise their voices over family members, friends, significant others, students, employees, whoever it is getting abused by a caretaker, but not much happens because those caretakers are safe behind a wall of legal defenses.  There are even entire awareness groups, protestors, people writing letters and putting together cases around the clock, and still nothing moves.  You don’t hear much about them, do you?

TC: You don’t, though I am aware of all this that you’re saying, like those protest groups.  And since we’re already having this kind of conversation, and I’m grateful for your willingness to speak to me, I’ll let you know that I agree with you.  That it’s wrong.  The way it’s set up is wrong.

Shelby: Good.  Thank you for saying that, Mr. Taylor.  And hey, look.  I know I’m just kind of going crazy with this thing right now and taking the lead, but it’s all important.  Please.  You have to believe me.

TC: I understand.  Say as much as you want about any of it.

Shelby: I had some notes I made I wanted to share with you, if that’s all right.

TC: By all means.

Shelby: Well, you know, I’m a debater.  I don’t just let things drop without researching them until I know as many of their dirty secrets as I can, or at least guess at.  Trying to do that for Techilogic was a little harder, though.  Even for me.  And I’m pretty damn good at it.

TC: Techilogic likes to keep to itself.

Shelby: Yeah, I noticed.  That was okay, though.  That just meant it took more like… six days straight of looking for their stuff instead of a few hours.  Nobody can hide every last scrap of information that well.  Not from me.

TC: I suppose not.  You’re saying you found something?

Shelby: Well, not exactly.   I didn’t find “something.”  I don’t have anything that I could just come out and say something definitive about them.  I have some thoughts, some stories that don’t really line up, and a lot of numbers that I can’t even fully read myself.

TC: Just back up whatever you have as well as you can and we’ll talk.

Shelby: Okay.  Just to start, then.  How much do you know about a guy named Arthur Goodwin?

            I paused for a moment here, thrown off and wondering where Shelby was going with this.  A career-long grudge fought its way to the surface of my consciousness, but I ignored it for the sake of staying even-keeled.

TC: A fair bit.

Shelby: Like what?

TC: He was the primary inventor of the Mark 1 MRD, and got the device to work on the handheld scale.  He cracked the organic matter identification processor.  He created the internal refraction system of the device in its first version before it was completely redesigned to be more secure for general public use.  He was also one of the sole programmers for its first “smart” OS.

Shelby: So… I guess you know a lot.

TC: As much as anyone who works at Techilogic, yes.

Shelby: Then I’m guessing you also know how that story ends.

TC: Yes.

Shelby: Compare notes?

TC: All right.  About ten years into the continued development of the technology, he was caught trying to sell a shipment of three dozen unlicensed PMRDs that had their identification systems modified, allowing the devices to be used on any target.  Rumor was the buyers were a combination of Irish mobsters, a hitman or two, and even a couple of lower-tier terrorists.  The kind of move that’ll warrant burying you in a hole for the rest of your natural life even if it’s not Techilogic you’ve tarnished.  And he’d personally done the damage on all of them, because he knew how to bypass the system that corrupted their processors if tampered with.  So essentially he was willing to put lives at risk in order to fund an early retirement.

Shelby: Right.  And then?

TC: They didn’t get him.  He somehow made off, slipped past them, and they ran him right out of town.

Shelby: More like right off the grid.  You probably know, then.  There’s… nothing on him after that.

TC: The Techilogic stance on Arthur Goodwin is that he escaped before he could be formally prosecuted for what he’d done, and that each and every one of his unlicensed devices had been retained and destroyed before they could become a danger to anyone, and that as long as he wasn’t in a jail cell somewhere, they would continue to aid in whatever way they could in capturing him.

Shelby: Right.  Except that was, what, like twenty years ago that he disappeared off the face of the earth?  Still nothing showed of him, ever?

TC: I would guess he managed to hide for all that time under an assumed identity.  He certainly had the money to do it.  In fact, he wouldn’t even be that old now.  You probably know from reading about the work he did for Techilogic, but he was an unmitigated prodigy.  He was out of MIT at the top of his class and working on the early stages of development for the MRD by the time he was 20 years old.

Shelby: See, that’s what I was thinking at first about where he went, too, but…

TC: Yes?

Shelby: Somebody like him?  Well, like you said, he was smart.  A genius, actually, was what a lot of people called him.  A lot of people way back when were saying he’d taken the program and the science behind it ahead forty-plus years in a tiny fraction of that.  He had that shit down pat.

TC: And?

Shelby: Well, look what happened to him.  Do you know how he was caught, exactly?  I’m guessing you’re fuzzy on it, because nothing, anywhere, talks about it clearly.  As if somebody didn’t want people thinking about it too hard.

TC: I know, again, as much as Techilogic willingly lets out.  That he was trying to make a transfer out of a shipping bay at the main production facility when the authorities and special units arrived.  He set fire to the warehouse and managed to escape, and they recovered all the tampered PMRDs.

Shelby: Basically.  So think about that for a minute.  A guy with brains like that?  Just up and selling them right off from the facility itself, in broad daylight, with no back-up, no contingency, not even a team helping him?  And then, once he’s promised a heck of a lot of good stuff to people who probably wouldn’t hesitate to put a few bullets in his skull if he backed out at the wrong time, he just runs off.  No thought of the haul being lost, no hesitation, he just cuts his losses fast enough to get away without a scratch and without a trace.

TC: I see your issue with it, sure.  Where are you going with this?

Shelby: The way I see it, there’s two possibilities here, and when you’re willing to see it the logical way, really just… one.

TC: Okay.

Shelby: First possibility: Goodwin tampered with enough PMRDs just to act as decoys and keep people off his ass, allowing him to make the getaway when he did and get to a stash of the real merchandise somewhere else he then sold off to the shady characters.  A stupid, stupid way to do it, because after that he’s ruined and can’t even have the same kind of access he did before to keep selling them, but it’s a possibility nonetheless. 

TC: Except…

Shelby: (cutting in) Except of course he didn’t do that.  If he had really wanted to sell it to those people?  It would be all over the place.

TC: Why’s that?

Shelby: Trust me.  He had the know-how to make it work.  I’m guessing this is something you didn’t know much about him, but Arthur Goodwin had a juvenile criminal record in his teen years you wouldn’t want to scoff at.  Frankly, it shocked me he made it into MIT, when he was just sixteen.  I guess it was just on the grace of the fact that he aced every goddamned standardized test and genius aptitude exam they put in front of him and could put together engines blindfolded more complicated than a team of PhDs working around the clock.  That’s not the point, though.

TC: I can’t say I was particularly familiar with his past beyond the fact that he had a juvenile record.

Shelby: Well, then, listen close.  Not all of this was directly linked to his name because of some clean-up I’m sure Techilogic had to do, but believe me.  The dots connect.  He started when he was in middle school egging houses and spray-painting buildings.  He moved to stealing cars by the time he was thirteen, most of them so he could put them back together into whatever contraption struck him that week, but still, he was doing it a lot.  There was a year before he got into college and collected three degrees in under four years where he went off the deep end.  Drug dealing, petty theft, even assault.  He was making himself into a teenage kingpin and he couldn’t even legally drive a car yet.

            I had to pause in my note-taking and scrolling through digital files at this moment to process Shelby’s comments.  It was all a lot to take in, even for someone in my line of work.

TC: Really.

Shelby: Obviously, those are the kinds of things you wouldn’t have seen many places after he was hired by Techilogic, but they exist still.  He was playing the system like a violin and making tens of thousands a week without even trying, and he was doing most of it just so he could have the funds to build rocket computers in his garage.

TC: Wow.

Shelby: The point is, this wasn’t some poindexter spinning in his chair at work who one day up and decided to try and make a few million dollars off what is potentially the most dangerous tool in warfare this century.  He knew what he was doing, and he had for a long, long time to get good at it.  If he had done this, truly done this, we’d hear about it from mobsters, assassins, terrorists, or whoever, and do you know why?  Because there’d be a fucking warpath of destruction across the globe.

TC: But there’s not.

Shelby: Exactly.  Just quiet little trails of people with zero evidence for their claims talking about how someone shrunk them and threatened to eat them unless they emptied out their bank account.  I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful that’s all it is, when it might’ve been half the government getting shrunken and snuffed out to throw us into chaos.  The world might’ve been so much different if things hadn’t gone like this.  But still, like…

TC: It doesn’t add up.

Shelby: No.  So that leads me to the other, and I think, only real possibility.

TC: That being?

Shelby: You’re not at work right now, are you?

TC: No.

Shelby: Would Techilogic be listening to your home phone?

TC: They could, but I have ways around that.  We’re safe.  Please believe me.

            Shelby took a deep breath here before sighing anxiously.

Shelby: I’m this far, I might as well go all in.  I don’t think Arthur Goodwin did what Techilogic and everybody else says he did.  I think somebody set it up to get him out of the picture as fast as possible, and I think you know who I’m saying that is.  Who knows, maybe he did try to sell some tampered PMRDs?  A record like that, maybe he was still involved somehow.  Maybe he succeeded at least in part, which is why there are enough people whose lives were completely fucked over by it all, but definitely not on the scale he’s accused of. 

TC: I’m guessing you heard about some of those stories, too, then.

Shelby: Of course.  They were harder to find, and considering the kinds of accusations they were making, they were quiet as mice and buried under a heap of falsified names, old files, and Internet garbage, but I found enough of them that I had to take notice.

TC: People who claimed they had a PMRD used on them without authorization, right?

Shelby: Right.  They get pushed to the way back, but when you hear what some of them were saying… I mean, Jesus fucking Christ.  Sorry.  But Jesus fucking Christ.

TC: I know.

Shelby: Thirty-eight different names I saw come up of people saying they were shrunken, kidnapped, and held for ransom.  A lot of them brutalized, raped, even maimed, and yet they couldn’t prove anything.  Their word against another who miraculously produced an alibi from out of nowhere.  Another twenty-two who say they were shrunken and interrogated, or made to hand over life savings or social security numbers.  A scattering of them, maybe ten or eleven, that even say they were… well, tortured.  The person didn’t want anything from them besides them… tiny, shrunken, helpless.  Some by family members or acquaintances from work, some by total strangers.  Some of them for weeks, months.  A couple cases even said… years.  Fucking years.  And those are just the ones that tried so hard to make sure their voices were heard that I had to work this long to find anything on them.

TC: You’re saying you think it’s on a bigger scale even than this, then.

Shelby: Yes.  Definitely.  It’s just like with that one brother and sister over thirty years ago.  It’s a cycle, and nobody will realize it.  People talk about things like that as if they were ancient history, but it’s still going on right under people’s noses.

TC: I see.

Shelby: And that’s just what I could find with some hardcore snooping.  But those aren’t even the numbers that bother me the most out of that whole thread.

TC: You’re talking about the ghosts, aren’t you?

Shelby: Exactly.  The number of people in circumstances just so that, well… it was a possibility.  That they were shrunken and then never heard from again.  Probably dead, and if they’re not dead?  That might be even worse, actually, depending on who has them.  Who knows?

            I had a growing lump in my throat that was making it increasingly difficult to avoid interjecting into Shelby’s informational unloading, but it was vital that I get the most unencumbered version of her account and findings as possible.  It was my turn to sigh as I continued checking up on her claims with my files.

TC: So you’re saying that Techilogic framed Goodwin.

Shelby: I don’t know.  Maybe I’m saying that.  I don’t have enough to say it, nor does anyone else.  I bet even Techilogic doesn’t have enough to say it, because they probably burn anything that even slightly implicates them in any way before anyone has a chance to take a good look at it.  But here’s the thing.  Goodwin designed the first version of the PMRD, right?  The one that could be tampered with if you knew how?

TC: Right.

Shelby: How long can something like that hang over a company?  A giant liability like that, an elephant in the room with the potential to start large-scale conflicts, just sitting there.  How long can they go before they need a reason to tie it up like a noose and wrap it around someone’s neck to keep their own asses covered?  And even if that wasn’t it?  He had to know things.  If he was that deep, he had to know something so bad that they couldn’t afford to even keep their smartest guy on the streets.  I just don’t know what it could’ve been yet.

            I could hardly bear to keep back now.  All while Shelby talked, I’d been scrolling through my computer, confirming as many of her notes as I could.  Most of it I was managing to at least find inklings of within a few minutes of specific searching, and I could gather that with more focused research, particularly utilizing my increased reach into the Techilogic files, even more of it will be uncovered.

TC: Shelby, I’m wondering something now.  What do you expect from all this you’re saying?  I follow everything you’ve pointed out.  I even agree with you on some of it, and the rest of it… I can at least entertain it until I see more.  But nobody will be able to listen to this.  This won’t hold up in a court or get things moving.

Shelby: I know.  Which is why I’m saying it to you, someone with more access than I can get for myself.  I was just hoping.

TC: Hoping what?

Shelby: Hoping you’d want to find out for yourself.  Hoping you’d hear enough of the truth in what I’m saying, even if half of it is bullshit, to at least look into it.  Because even if I’m totally off on most of it, you have to admit that there’s something going on here under all the paperwork, shiny suits, and big grinning faces giving speeches about “shrunken rehabilitation.”  There’s no way around that much, at least.  Something is happening.  And I think it’s something big.

            There was another pause here, on my part.

TC: I agree.

Shelby: Really?

TC: Yes.  I don’t know how much of it I can completely believe yet, but you are right.  I do have ways to find out more.  So I guess I should thank you, Shelby.

Shelby: For what?

TC: For giving me direction again, even if you think you’ve started to lose your own.

Report 6: Cambralart Financials, Interview 1: Tania Beakman

            I’ve had something of an extended break from work on the Shrink Act Files after my previous cases in order to help discourage the prying eyes of my superiors before tackling this particular one.  My work began today at seven a.m. sharp in the pristine and echo-rebounding lobby of Cambralart Financials among a crowded flurry of workers scuttling over the hexagonal tile.  Coming from the Techilogic Corporation, I’m generally not intimidated by grandiose presentation, but even I had to be impressed by my first view of the place.  I was put in mind of a beehive after waiting patiently on one of the black leather couches for an aid to take me up to the top floor of the twenty-seven story building.

            Cambralart Financials is a subsidiary of one of Techilogic’s sister companies that it took the reins on nineteen years ago at the first peak of its success.  One of the largest in the nation, it’s essentially a personal banker to a who’s who list of multi-billion dollar conglomerates and Fortune 500 companies, most of which have vast international connections and sister corporations of their own.

            Ms. Tania Beakman is the current executive of the Chicago branch of Cambralart.  With twenty-four years of experience in the organization since she began as an intern from Yale University at age twenty, her name probably won’t be unfamiliar to anyone with even a passing connection to the world of economics, not only for her power in the company, but the strides she’s been making in expanding it to fit the rapidly changing world.  Her reputation for efficient, forward-moving works precedes her in just about any venture the company becomes involved in.

            Among these expansions she’s brought for the company, ironically, is the partial integration of the Shrink Act into the business in a way much less obvious to the public eye than at, say, South Hanenrow University, but no less worthwhile to study for the anomaly of professional relationships it presents.  The program’s use is actually relatively simple, and much like the aforementioned University from my second case, is entirely optional to participants, in that they are free to refuse employment when signing their contract, wherein the program’s utilization is expounded on.

            The program operates as follows: new employees must sign a waiver as well as participate in a brief informational seminar on the Shrink Act’s integration into the company as a way to ensure workflow is kept at a pace adequate to keep up in the global market.  The standard of work expected of all employees from the managers just under Ms. Beakman down to the lowest intern is at a highly elevated level; it’s how the company has managed to keep up with the number of major clients it does and still pay all of its employees a salary that makes it a tremendously desirable destination for the fiscally-minded professional.

            What this means for employees, then, is that if their assigned work isn’t completed in the reportedly demanding time frame given, they will enter a shrunken session with one of the managers, or even Ms. Beakman herself, whom I’ve been told has a particular predilection for handling these matters personally, in order to both make up their work through alternate methods as well as receive additional encouragement to keep up with the workflow in the future.

            An aid arrived after twenty minutes with tablet in hand to bring me to Ms. Beakman’s office on the top floor of the building.  The elevator ride up was striking for the glass wall that faced the exterior, allowing a view of the courtyard far below.  When we arrived on the top floor, there was only one office on the long stretch of immaculately polished linoleum, of course belonging to Ms. Beakman.  We still had to wait to be buzzed into the office for another five minutes in a pair of armchairs by a sitting area outside while she finished a conference call, at which point I was taken in and introduced to the Cambralart Financials Chicago branch executive.

            Ms. Beakman’s appearance was a surprise to me, given what I’d heard of her cutthroat prowess in the financial world and generally intimidating nature in personal meetings.  Her office, though still roomy and decorated with all the latest high-class fixings, felt homey as well, and although she wore a freshly pressed business suit and held herself still as a statue when standing to greet me, her hair was let down to frame a warm smile that I hadn’t been expecting.

TC: I so appreciate you agreeing to this interview, Ms. Beakman.

Tania: Don’t mention it.  Sorry for the wait.  Long day at the office and it’s not even eight a.m.  Now, I do only have twenty minutes before I’ve got another appointment to make.  I hope that’ll be enough for you?

TC: That should be plenty.  Let’s get started, then, if that’s all right.

Tania: Of course.

TC: Before I get into the main subject of this meeting, I was curious if you had any comment to make on the events a few months ago surrounding-

Tania: (cutting in) You’re referring to that whole Stevens business, I take it?

TC: Yes.

Tania: You’ll find the company stance in any given news report from the last few months.  I have no additional commentary to make besides the fact that we here at Cambralart Financials won’t rest until full justice is served, meaning every last dollar is returned to our customers and Thomas Stevens is reprimanded to the full extent of the law.

            I had been hoping to open up a line of questioning regarding the Stevens family’s connections with Techilogic, Cambralart, and the Shrink Act itself, especially in light of Judy Stevens’ confirmed bid for a Senate seat, but as it seemed that door had been definitively shut in my face, I pressed on.

            Note that a sampling of news reports regarding Thomas Stevens and his crimes involving Cambralart will be included as an addendum along with any other pertinent periodicals.

TC: Fair enough.  Moving on, then.  Could you describe the significance of the Shrink Act to the business?

Tania: Gladly.  Cambralart is among the world leaders in personal banking for the largest and most successful corporations in the world, and as such, we hold a strict standard of sheer excellence for everyone on our payroll.  Workflow must remain up in order to keep the well-oiled machine of this company moving.  When it breaks down because employees have slacked, everyone suffers.  The Shrink Act’s use, then, is a way to ensure our machine remains primed for action in the international marketplace.

TC: Meaning employees are placed in shrunken discipline?

Tania: Discipline isn’t the right word.  We actually refer to it as a seminar to expand an employee’s understanding of how Cambralart has been as successful as it is, albeit with a more hands-on approach.  That’s the best way to learn and adapt to the business world, I’ve found.

TC: And this is, of course, the employee’s decision to participate?

Tania: Employees are given the choice to participate when they are hired.  They are fully informed of the obligation of all our employees to participate before they sign a single document or become eligible for our shrunken seminars.

TC: How do these shrunken seminars work?  Are employees who’ve fallen behind automatically assigned a caretaker?

Tania: Essentially, yes.  Those who don’t keep up with their projects for longer than a week go on a probationary list, which is viewable by all employees for added motivation to improve.  If they haven’t caught up their work in another week, they go to list requiring assignment to a manager.  At that point, they go into the custody of their assigned caretaker for a four-hour session to both make up work and participate in the motivational seminar to improve in the future.

TC: Fascinating.  I wouldn’t have thought such a thing would be possible in a corporation, even of this size and influence, just for what I assume were a mélange of legal hurdles that had to be passed.

Tania: Many employees are surprised by it too.  It wasn’t exactly simple, but as you probably know, your employers have been very good to us over the years due to their funding and uncompromising support, so the process was easier than I would assume it to be at companies unconnected with the Techilogic Corporation.  Perhaps in the future, though, it will become easier for any company to integrate the Shrink Act into their system.  I’m sure once they get a good look at the results we’ve gotten from it, they’ll all feel the same.

TC: So, overall, you’d say the Shrink Act has been a beneficial addition to the inner workings of your company?

Tania: I can’t sing its praises enough.  After we began using it six months ago, our productivity has already risen by 25%, and it’s still on the rise, as are our profits.  It had to be seen to be believed, but the proof is in the pudding.  It’s worked wonders for us.

TC: That’s very impressive.  Now, if possible, I’d like to go a bit deeper into these shrunken seminars, as you call them.  Give me a for instance if you were put in charge of a group of employees.

Tania: Well, all right.  I’ll say what I can.  We begin by having the employees arrive at my office here around four-thirty the day of their assignment to the list so that I can shrink them.  I generally will get assigned to supervise anywhere from eight to fifteen at a time.  We employ a large quantity of workers, after all.  The sessions usually take place at night, so it’s easiest to just take the employees home with me and hold the session there, where we can have a little more privacy.

TC: Interesting. That makes sense.  Now, there’s something else I’m very curious about.  Obviously, you’re among the most successful financial executives in the nation.  You must have a huge amount on your plate day-to-day.  I wonder why it is, then, that someone as important as you feels the need to bother with the more menial work like seminars for underachieving employees.  I’m sure it means having to sacrifice time that could’ve been spent on work more your speed for the benefit of the company.  What’s the interest for you?

            There was a brief pause as Tania considered me carefully, obviously not expecting to have that asked.  When she finally spoke, her answer came out smoothly prepared like an automatic response.

Tania: Despite the size of our corporation, it’s my greatest fear that we lose sight of the fact that it is human beings running the show, and one of the ways I like to remember that is by establishing and strengthening professional relationships as personally as possible, no matter how many pay grades they happen to sit below me.  We’re all family here, really.

TC: I see.  And what can they be expected to do while under your supervision?

Tania: Nothing terribly taxing, if that’s what you’re wondering.  As some of the work they’ve missed has to be made up, I’ll have them do some additional jobs on tablets, still at their smaller sizes, to make up lost time.  Then afterward there are a few activities we participate in together for team-building, though I prefer to keep those specific methods out of my answer, if that’s all right.  No sense giving away the content of the company’s single most successful seminar, after all, in case any of our competitors want a piece of the pie.

TC: Fair enough.  How small can employees generally expect to be made during these seminars?

Tania: It all depends, though I have a preference for three inches.

TC: Wow.  That’s a very small size for so many you’re responsible for.

Tania: I suppose you could take that view.  Really, though, it just makes it easier on me to watch over them.  I’m sure you know this already, as the program wouldn’t have been as successful, but no employees have ever seen anything but improvement after their seminars, nor have they ever come close to being at risk or placed in harm’s way.  They work so effectively, the other branches are already in talks to adopt it.

TC: I see.  So after a single session, they’re motivated to keep up with the workflow of the company?

Tania: Like clockwork.  It’s astounding.  A real miracle of the workplace, I’d have to say, given the state of some of our cases a few months ago when we were rebuilding from the ground up.

TC: That’s quite the seminar.

Tania: Well, like I said.  It’s a part of the standard we hold to at Cambralart.  Everyone is on the same page when it comes to personal improvement.

TC: This, I think, begs another question.  I can’t really speculate, of course, as I don’t know the precise nature of these seminars, but some of my previous cases of study have given the impression that improvements in behavior they displayed during shrunken sessions were basely primarily on a desire to placate their caretaker and bring a swifter end to the session, and less on actual improvement of their personal philosophy of productivity.  What would you say to that possibility?

            The question was bold, and I was perfectly aware of that.  At this point, Tania leaned forward across her glass-surfaced desk toward me, arms crossed.  I got the impression I had irked her somewhat.

Tania: What do you mean by that?

TC: I simply mean it seemed worth at least weighing the possibility of those undergoing shrunken sessions deciding to cut their losses and accept the consequences as quickly as possible.  It’s a way of playing the people, given the style of discipline’s novelty in a workplace.  Surely it’s not something we can really say definitively is a process of improvement?

Tania: I believe I said already it’s not a disciplinary system.  It’s a motivational seminar to aid workflow and employee output, which in turn increases the company’s revenue and opens up new positions for those seeking to join our group.  I’d call that improvement enough.

TC: So would you say, then, you would not accept the possibility that employees aren’t really improving their behavior for the sake of it, and rather just out of intimidation?

            There was another pause here.  I briefly considered the probability that she was going to declare the meeting over at this point.

Tania: I’m not saying anything of the sort.  I’m simply saying employees are showing improvement in their work, Mister… I’m sorry, remind me of your name?

TC: Howard Taylor.

Tania: Howard.  Right.  I hope you’re listening closely to this next point, Howard, because it’s important.  We are a highly successful corporation, not a school of ethics.  The bottom line here is that employees have signed a waiver, granting their full and educated consent to our measures here, because they know us to be a reliable source of income and professionalism.  They are paid for a standard of stellar performances, and as a result the company has seen improvement all under completely legal and well-maintained means.  What they are not paid for is becoming kinder people.  That’s something they can do off in a church somewhere if they want, not on company time.

            The longer Tania spoke, the more I could see her reputation cutting through her more contented exterior.

TC: I see.  I think I understand now.

Tania: I hope so.

TC: So you’d say that it is entirely up to the employees how they participate?  There is no coercive persuasion of any type?

            At this, Tania let out a deep sigh and seemed to lower herself more deeply into her chair.

Tania: Yes, of course it is entirely up to them.  I could show you the waivers they signed at the time of their hiring if I was feeling inclined, as they’ve all been checked, double-checked, and stored in our secure files for ease of access should an employee momentarily forget their legal obligation.

TC: That’s all well and good, and I have full confidence in the integrity of those files.  I was actually referring, simply, more to the seminars themselves, once employees are out of chances to change the road they’re on.  I assume they are not told of the precise nature of the seminars, whatever they may be, prior to being hired?

Tania: No, they are not, but it’s irrelevant.  The waiver describes the fundamental lessons of the seminar, and they are aware that they will be personally shrunken by a PMRD for the session, as well as the legal ramifications and protections they are entitled to.  The specifics are just semantics.

TC: Are they really?

Tania: Yes, Howard.  They are.

TC: I was hoping, then, I might humbly request a final time for just some ancillary information on the nature of these seminars.  A brief description of what, exactly, the employees are put through during the sessions without any company supervision other than your own.  Just for my own reassurance, and the reassurance of those reading my study.

            There was yet another long pause.  Tania sat up higher in her chair again this time, her fingers steepled tightly together, her lips pursed and pale.  She was unquestionably irritated with my continued presence in her office.  I was still wondering how I’d managed to stay this long.

Tania: I’m afraid not, Howard.  Sorry.  Company policy.  I’m loyal to my employees and their interests over post-grad psychology experiments like this one.

TC: If that’s your final position…

Tania: (cutting in) It is.

TC: Very well.  I can respect that.  All I would say as a reminder is that I do intend to find out every piece of helpful information to the study and to my subjects, regardless of where the information must emerge from.  If said information were provided from you directly, you would have the benefit of presenting it in your personal viewpoint, with as much qualifying explanation as you care to provide.  That will not be the case otherwise, and that may ultimately reflect poorly on certain third parties.

            Ms. Beakman pressed a button on the side of her desk, then picked up a tablet pen and began to twirl it between her fingertips.

Tania: Howard.  Really, now.  That sounds suspiciously like a threat.

TC: Not at all, Ms. Beakman.  I’m simply stating the facts.  I prefer that the subjects of my studies have all the chances in the world to speak their minds.

Tania: And frankly, I’d have preferred an interview about a very successful policy our company has implemented to the benefit of everyone on our payroll, and yet I find myself in the middle of an attack on the integrity of that very policy.  We can’t always get what we want.

TC: No.  No, we cannot.

Tania: I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave a little prematurely, and to remove our discussion entirely out of your little study.

TC: If that’s what you want.

            I rose from my chair just as a security guard appeared in the doorway.

Guard: Problem, Ms. Beakman?

Tania: I don’t know.  (to me)  Problem, Howard?

TC: Not in the least.  I appreciate your time, Ms. Beakman.

Tania: The pleasure was all mine. (to the guard) Please help my dear friend here find his way back downstairs.

Report 6: Cambralart Financials, Interview 2: Abraham Fogler

            Despite the request from Ms. Tania Beakman, executive of the Chicago branch of Cambralart Financials, both for me to depart the premises and leave her out of my interviews entirely, I was forced based on the integrity of my study to deny both suggestions.

            After returning to a waiting area on the twelfth floor, the security guard who had guided me back down the elevator had to be called away, while a replacement headed over to take me the rest of the way down.  As I had not actually become belligerent in Ms. Beakman’s office, I suppose I was looked on as a non-threat, because the guard just left me in the waiting room.  With briefcase in hand, I was quickly on my way down a hallway toward some of the primary office space.

            Though I’ve worked in Techilogic as an analyst for nine years, I had some experience as an investigative reporter prior to that for about three years.  It was time to take these skills back out of my toolbox.

            Thoroughly aware of the illegality of my current choices, and completely content with it by this point, I made my way through the workspace as inconspicuously as possible.  The company apparently is well-to-do enough that cubicles aren’t used, with desks in straight rows on the sparkling tile reminding me a bit of an army barracks.

            Tania had mentioned how the so-called shrunken seminar notification system worked, in that workers at risk of falling behind are put on a list that’s distributed to everyone, I would assume in the form of a digital memo.  Cambralart seems to keep its general movement space in a pristine state, but I knew no copy room can possibly escape a few stray scraps from a previous week or two.  I decided this was the logical place to begin my search.

            Sure enough, the wall in the copy room contained a three-foot-wide touch screen monitor that flashed by various pieces of information such as worldwide stocks, what the cafeteria was serving, and finally a list of approximately two dozen names labeled “Reduction Seminar & Learning Experience Candidates.”  Next to each name was a department label and a room number.

            Of course, this particular list wasn’t going to do me any good, as these “candidates” hadn’t actually experienced the seminar yet, but it was a start.  I quickly realized, though, that these names came from all across the Chicago branch, a location that houses over four hundred employees daily.  There’s no possible way anyone could be remotely familiar with everyone, and indeed, remotely familiar with everyone on the current list.  I picked out the name of someone named Abraham Fogler from the desk space just outside the copy room.

            Bracing myself for this to backfire at any moment, I decided to try my luck.  I walked right up to the desk of Mr. Fogler near the far corner of the room.  He was somewhat heavyset with a receding hairline, and his face was buried partially in his hands as he leaned over a tablet.

TC: Mr. Fogler?

Abraham: Yes?

TC: I’m Joe.  From the twenty-second floor?  I think we met at the Christmas party a couple years back.

Abraham: What?  Oh.  Okay.

TC: You don’t remember me, do you?

Abraham: What?  No, of course I do.  Definitely.  Joe.  Joe from the twenty-first floor.

TC: Twenty-second.

Abraham: Twenty-second!  God, yes, sorry.  What do you need?

TC: I was hoping I could talk to you for a minute in the copy room about a little issue?

Abraham: A little issue?  What kind of issue?

TC: Nothing major, I just need maybe two minutes of your time.

Abraham: Oh.  Okay, sure.  I’m coming.

            The pair of us trudged back to the copy room.  Most heads over the desks didn’t even budge their eyes or posture from the computers.  Once safely inside, I closed the door behind me.

Abraham: How can I help you?  Problem in your department?

TC: Well, Mr. Fogler, I suppose I wasn’t being very forthcoming.  This isn’t a business matter, per se.

Abraham: Oh?

TC: See, I was looking at the list for the seminar candidates next week and saw we’re both on there.

            As I pointed to the screen behind us so that Abraham could indeed confirm that there was someone named Joe on the list from the twenty-second floor, he twitched visibly, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

Abraham: Okay.  What about it?

TC: I was just wondering what you knew about it?

Abraham: The seminar?

TC: Yes.

Abraham: Nothing.  Nothing at all.  Why would I know something about it?

TC: No reason.  I just wondered if you might know.  I’ll admit I’m a little anxious about it.

            A few beads of sweat were already trickling down Abraham’s forehead, though I couldn’t tell if it was from the harsh fluorescents or from something else.

Abraham: Oh?

TC: Yes.  You’re sure you haven’t heard anything?

Abraham: Nope.  Never.  I just know we shrink down and have to listen to some extra lectures on business practices and whatnot.

TC: That’s all?

Abraham: Well, like I said.  I don’t know anything at all.

TC: I see.  Could you tell me where I could find someone who might, then?  I’m afraid I already tossed out my copy of the list from a couple weeks back.

            Abraham looked on me suspiciously, but I kept my cool.

Abraham: Sure.  Sure, I can.  Why, though?

TC: Why do I want to find out about it?

Abraham: Yes.

TC: Because it interests me.  I want to know what I’m looking at here so I can prepare.

            At this, Abraham stepped closer to me and placed a hand on my shoulder as he whispered urgently into my ear.

Abraham: Look, man.  If you know what’s good for you, just keep your head down and power through for the rest of the week so you don’t have to go.  Stay here all night if you have to.  With all due respect, that’s what I’ve got to be doing too, so I’ll see you around.

TC: No, wait, give me a break.  You just said you don’t know anything about it.  What do you know?

Abraham: Nothing, like I said.

TC: Who can I talk to, then?

Abraham: I’m serious.  You don’t want to start looking into things.  You’ve got a great job here, and you’ll be able to retire when you’re fifty.  It’s worth it to just keep your trap shut, okay?

TC: Who said anything about retiring just for asking a couple questions?

Abraham: Nobody.  Nobody yet, as long as you don’t make dumbass decisions.

TC: Just give me a couple names.  I won’t mention yours back.

            Grunting quietly as he began turning the door handle to leave the copy room, Abraham turned back to me as he ran a fidgeting hand over his thinning hair.

Abraham: Okay, okay, fine.  Daniel Jackson and Karine Templeton.

TC: Where are they?

Abraham: Both on the fourteenth floor.  They share an office because they get some of the specialized clients as a team.  And I swear-

TC: (cutting in) I won’t mention your name.  This never happened, if that’s what you want.

Abraham: It is.  God damn it, man.  What do you think you’re doing?

            Abraham didn’t give me time to answer his apparently rhetorical question before marching back toward his desk to try and continue working to get out of his possible seminar next week, which more and more is giving me reason to suspect is anything but an opportunity for professional growth.

Report 6: Cambralart Financials, Interview 3: Daniel Jackson and Karine Templeton

            Armed with two more leads, I made my way to the fourteenth floor.  I passed three different security guards on my way there and in the elevator, but I suppose nobody had raised an alarm that I was wandering loose after I shook my escort two floors down, because no one even gave me a second look as I marched forward just as confidently as those I passed in the hallways.

            Daniel Jackson and Karine Templeton’s office became obvious as soon as I made it onto this floor’s workspace, which was organized exactly the same as the one two stories down, save for the color of the tile.  They didn’t share the common space and instead were occupied in their own double office.  Their door was cracked open, and once again taking a leap that assuredly entailed a greatly inflated risk of being thrown from the premises, I knocked and entered.

TC: Mr. Jackson?  Ms. Templeton?

            Both looked up wearily at me from their adjacent desks, their fingers continuing to tap away on their tablets and keyboards.  It must’ve been a grueling week, because their eyes were red and puffy, as though they’d been working through a night or two without proper rest.  Daniel was of average build, in his mid-thirties, and African-American.  Karine was very petite with wiry blonde hair and looked to be in her late twenties.

Daniel: Are you the rep from Ambleworth?

            Daniel’s voice came out as somewhat of a croak.

TC: Yes.  Yes, that’s me.

Daniel: What’s your name again?

TC: Taylor.  Howard Taylor.

Daniel: I thought it was a something-Handler they were sending over.

TC: Last minute change of plans.  Handler called in sick.  Bad stomach flu, I think.

Karine: We didn’t think anyone would be here for another forty minutes.  You can take a seat, though.  At my desk is fine; I’m the one with the actual reports to show you.

TC: All right.  Thank you.

            I briskly took a seat in front of Karine’s desk while Daniel set about finishing something up on his screen.

Daniel: We’ve got just about everything in order for you, except for a couple more details to smooth out.  I think we’ve got something very positive here.

TC: Yes, so do I.

Karine: Your company sounded ready for this on the phone.  Are you ready to sign a few forms for us, or is there anything you wanted to go over before we start up this partnership?

TC: In a way, yes.  I consider myself something of a reader, and in educating myself about Cambralart, there was something that caught my attention.  I was hoping one or both of you could fill me in.

Daniel: Absolutely.  What is it?

TC: Well, I stumbled across a program called the Reduction Seminar & Learning Experience in conjunction with your company’s implementation of The Shrink Act.

            I was expecting a frosty reception to this sudden broaching of the subject, but I was not expecting the look in the eyes of both Daniel and Karine that flashed so simultaneously.  They wore the exact same expressions of hollowness that I haven’t seen much of outside old photos of shellshock victims.

Karine: Beg pardon?

TC: The Reduction Seminar & Learning Experience.  I was curious about it.

Daniel: Why, if I may ask?

TC: It’s an anomaly, is all.  It piqued my interest with everything happening in the news this year about the Matter Reduction Device.  And clearly, in the time since it was implemented, your company’s seen quite an upturn, even while it was already performing superbly.

Karine: It’s a program meant to improve worker productivity.

TC: That’s it?

Daniel: Essentially, yes.  That’s really all that’s worth knowing about it.

TC: I have to doubt that, given the numbers Cambralart has been pulling since it was created.

Karine: I’m sorry, Mister… um.

TC: Taylor.

Karine: Mr. Taylor, I’m sorry, but I’m not quite sure what exactly this has to do with this deal?

TC: Not that much, admittedly.  I just wanted to know, and as I believe you two have participated in it before, I thought I might be able to get a firsthand account.

            There was another pause here, which I fully expected.  Karine gripped the arms of her chair more forcibly, while Daniel leaned across his desk.

Daniel: Who are you?  Really?

Karine: Daniel.

Daniel: Who?

TC: Howard Taylor, like I said.

Daniel: I know your name.  I mean who are you?

TC: A concerned citizen.

Karine: Really.  Concerned.

TC: Very.

Daniel: Well, your concern isn’t necessary.  This is an accounts department we’re running here, not a twenty questions game.  If you’re not the rep, then I’m not even sure what it is we’re still talking about.

TC: We’re talking about doing something about what’s going on here at this company.  I could help if you’ll just tell me what we’re looking at here.

Karine: Nothing is going on, and we’re not looking at anything here.

TC: If that’s true, why won’t anyone tell me a single thing about what’s supposed to be a motivational seminar?

Daniel: Because there’s nothing to tell.  We go in, we shrink down, we listen to some lectures and do some team-building.  Then we go home and get back to work.

            As Daniel spoke, his voice became even more hoarse, and I could see he was fighting back a cough, as though he were uncomfortably constructing the words as he went.  I had enough confirmation of my suspicions to finally lay my cards on the table.

TC: Mr. Jackson.  Ms. Templeton.  I’m sorry that I barged in here and lied to you.  You have to understand, it was only because of the work I’m doing.  For people who aren’t able to speak up for themselves because of the system.

Karine: What the hell are you talking about?

TC: I’m an analyst from the human relations department of the Techilogic Corporation.  I’m investigating the effects of the use of the Matter Reduction Device after the Shrink Act was passed.

            Both visibly twitched at this mention of my title and origin, though I couldn’t be sure in what context it was.  I flashed them a business card just for added reassurance.

Daniel: All right.  So what, you want us to give you a nice promotional slogan to go on an ad for a PMRD, huh?  Say how the thing’s been indirectly bringing in millions more per month, how it’s improving productivity.  Is that how this works?

TC: No.

Karine: Then what do you want?

TC: The truth.

            Daniel’s eyes shifted to the window on the door leading into the office, checking for observers.

Karine: Why should we believe you?

TC: Because I want it to go down, just like you.

Daniel: How can we know you’re not just here to catch us in the act of dumping on Cambralart and Beakman?

TC: My job is already on the line.  I could show you some of the memos I’ve gotten, but it probably doesn’t matter, because I think you could guess for yourselves how much more this risks for me.  If this conversation happens, and it comes out that it did because one of us said something, who do you think bites the dust harder, you or me?

            Another silence.  Karine shot Daniel a look that I interpreted as pleading.

TC: Believe me.  If I publish half of what I’ve found out, I’m already going down.  Right now, I just want to hear what you have to say.

            Daniel’s eyes fell back to the surface of his desk, his body posture stiff, and he folded his hands into his lap.

Daniel: Karine, would you mind getting the window?

Karine: Okay.

            There was a certain mix of anxiety and yet still relief in her tone as she rose and pulled down a tiny blind over the door window.

Daniel: You understand, Mr. Taylor.  Even if you are willing to take the risk you say you are, we’re still very much on the line as well.  If we were to describe anything potentially compromising about our company to you, I could never speak in definitive terms, and neither could Karine.

TC: Speak entirely in theoreticals if you want.  I’m just here to listen.  Start whenever you want.

            Karine took her seat again, adopting a similarly strained position in her chair like her coworker, bowing her head slightly.

Karine: Daniel?  Do you want to go first?

Daniel: The Reduction Seminar & Learning Experience, on the books, is spread out among the managers of every department in the company.   Officially, anyone participating by being shrunken and receiving its lessons can go to just about anyone in the company, and they maintain a system of open communication and uniformity in the seminar.

TC: But is that what happens?

Daniel: Officially, it is what happens.  And officially, I cannot say the company’s records are lying.

TC: What can you say, then?

Karine: That even though every manager knows about it, only Beakman actually holds the seminars, knows exactly what happens, and she answers to none of the others about them.

            Daniel shot Karine a shifty glance, but was clearly beginning to come to terms with the fact that this information was about to come out anyway.

TC: So then, if such a thing like that… were to be what was happening, as opposed to the official position of the company, would Beakman’s actions in the seminar be known to the managers?

Daniel: Hypothetically.  Yes.  But only tangentially.  Because they would not want to know about it, to help absolve them of blame or obligation to intervene.  If that was what was happening.

TC: So the seminars, now.

Daniel: They take place at Beakman’s house, where she is the sole supervisor, though she officially has to report back the events of the seminar.

TC: Officially.

Karine: Officially.

TC: What else is official?  What takes place?

Daniel: Officially, they are learning exercises as well as additional opportunities for catch-up work.  Officially, employees spend an hour and a half of their time at a reduced size working on tablets under the supervision, followed by two and a half hours of combined group team-building activities and business lectures designed to improve their output.

TC: But supposing the official statements are not what takes place…

Karine: They’re not.

TC: What does?

            Daniel and Karine finally looked up simultaneously from their desks, meeting gazes, their faces pallid.  Karine gave a weak nod to her business partner.

Daniel: We need your final assurance.  That whatever we say-

TC: (cutting in) You have my word as a professional analyst with nine years of experience that anything you-

Karine: Not your word as an analyst.

Daniel: Your word as a man.

TC: You have it.

            Both seemed to settle back into their chairs at this, though neither sat any easier.

Karine: Theoretically, employees who participate may or may not be shrunken to three inches in groups of more than a dozen.  They may or may not be stripped naked, either on their own or by whatever… executive… happens to be in charge of the seminar.

TC: And?

Daniel: Theoretically, they may then be handled very intimately by whatever executive is in charge.  This may or may not include nor may or may not be limited to direct holding, caressing, and intrusive prodding, often with many employees in one hand of said hypothetical executive.

TC: Is that the end of it?

            Karine held stock still, and I could see she had her hands around her knees to keep them from trembling.  Her voice began to quaver.

Karine: Theoretically, no.

TC: Then what else?

Karine: Theoretically, the executive may or may not then strip him or herself down to nothing as well, then collect all the employees together, and…

            I wondered if Daniel would take over for her, as she seemed to be struggling hard to get the words out, but he held a hand over his mouth, possibly from nausea.

TC: It’s okay now, Karine.  Just tell me.

Karine: Theoretically, the executive may… use… the employees, as… aids.  Usually two at a time.  Inside, in her own… her own…

            Another wave of silence fell over the room as Karine’s gaze fell back to her lap, her words fading off.  Daniel stared at me unblinkingly with deadly seriousness.

Daniel: Theoretically.

TC: I understand.  The theory of it, I mean.

Daniel: See that’s as far as you understand it, where we are concerned.  Are we clear on that?

TC: Absolutely.  There will never be a shred of connection back to you.

Daniel: How can I know?

TC: These reports are now no longer for publication.  They are for me, and my work.

Daniel: Why is that?

TC: Because if I publish any of this, I’ll be out the door just as fast as they can burn every record of it.  It’ll be as though it hadn’t existed.  No, that’s not how this will be handled.

Karine: How will it be?

TC: Discreetly.  And with the utmost respect to the two of you, as well as any others who may have participated or been involved in any way with-

Daniel: (cutting in) What good will it do?

TC: I don’t know yet.  I honestly don’t.  And I’m sorry about that.  But I know that it will, in time, be of use.

Karine: And what if they try to take it back from you and find out about any of this, a link of any kind?

TC: They’ll have to pry it out of my cold, dead fingers first.

            My departure came shortly afterward.  I escorted myself out very casually, as Daniel and Karine remained in their office.  As I passed by the lobby on my way out, once again avoiding the guards patrolling about, I noticed a man who, based on his dress and accessories, I assumed to be the Mr. Handler they were waiting for.

            I’m of the professional opinion that my interview with Ms. Tania Beakman will not be followed up, even if I were to send in a basket of apologetic fruit and flowers, though I do hope to hear more from the two employees I spoke with.  As with Shelby back at South Hanenrow University, I left copies of my card with Daniel and Karine on their desks in case they feel the urge to further divulge information at a later time.

            For now, I press onward, the necessity of my study and the information I’ve gleaned becoming more and more vital to me as a researcher rather than Techilogic as an entity.  There is no longer, I believe, intrinsic academic value in the study as a primary objective.  It is now simply for the crucial preservation of social justice for human beings, which within the walls of Cambralart Financials, I firmly believe is receiving nothing short of a violent decomposition.

            There may not be many more chances to acquire the data I have in my work, for me or any who may follow, and I have no intention of squandering the opportunity.  Despite the subject matter of my report almost certainly linking back to my superiors in the future, thus virtually assuring my termination as an employee, the actual content cannot and will not fall into anyone else’s hands at this point until enough information has been gathered to land a solid blow against The Shrink Act once and for all.

Special Memo to Mr. Howard Taylor, Research Analyst in Human Relations Dpt. - Second Notice

To: Howard Taylor

From: Richard Philbin

Re: Second Notice on “Shrink Act Files” Project

            I’m going to be honest with you now, Taylor, and as forthcoming as possible, a courtesy I can’t say you’ve ever extended me or your other superiors.  But for the sake of aiding in your speedy removal from any position of remote authority, I have resolved to be civil.

            Before, it was a professional matter.  You were making poor choices left and right and refusing to stand behind a company that’s been so good to you for many years.  Your business practices, if they could be charitably called that, were a joke and undoubtedly an insult to most that encountered you.  That was then, though.  That was before this latest atrocity of yours and this entire train wreck of a sociological study nightmare you’ve been insisting on seeing through to its fiery end.

            Now, though, not just as an executive of Interdepartmental Affairs and a figure of Techilogic, but as a responsible citizen of the United States of America, I refuse to sit idly by any longer while you paint lies to your liking and vomit up yellow journalism by the packet as some vile excuse for soft science.  This has gone on far enough.

            I saw you spoke to the Lindon family, and at that point, I assumed you’d started seeing the error of your ways and the need for the most vital voices to be heard, rather than just your beloved criminals and hardworking caretakers framed in the most negative light you can concoct for them.  I thought that by speaking to their family, you might be convinced at long last of just how wrong you are and what a pointless losing battle it is you’ve been flailing to stay in time and time again.  Corey Lindon’s crime is being penalized in a way that ensures the healthiest possible rehabilitation for all involved, and we can’t even see all the benefits yet.  He’s not being left to rot in a cell or left as a liability to escape and run someone else down with his car.  He’s being made into a better person as we speak, and if you couldn’t see that, then there truly is no hope for you left.  I know I can’t speak directly from whatever drivel you coughed up in that particular account of your “study,” as you rather suspiciously haven’t made the contents available yet, but if I were a betting man, I wouldn’t put very much on you speaking favorably of such an upstanding American family.  And for that, I cannot allow you to slip by, but that’s not even the half of it.

            No, where you’ve truly taken off too large a bite of the apple and ensured your departure from this corporation is in Cambralart Financials.  Apparently you weren’t contented before with tarring and feathering innocent families just trying to adjust to difficult circumstances.  Now, apparently, you feel the need to do the same to Techilogic’s own sister corporations, and to its highest and most respect professionals across the nation, no less.

            I admit I could hardly hold back when I heard about the conversation you had with Tania Beakman, and I was not alone.  Her unflinching support for the management, specifically, of our department’s fiscal matters made the gross invasion all the worse, and we’re just lucky she’s not going to be acting in any additional ways beyond informing all of us of your conversation.  I’d say you’re lucky she’s not pressing charges, considering she had to have a security guard escort you from the building.  I’m more bitterly ashamed than ever to have to ascribe your name alongside Techilogic’s.  It was unbelievable to me in every conceivable way that you would attack her with the kinds of blatant accusations I’m told you did, and yet still believable in its own sick right because it’s you we’re talking about and not, say, a reasonable person.  One cannot begin to fathom your twisted logic for such a backstabbing, but then again, one cannot begin to fathom most of whatever it is you call a career, so I suppose you’re consistent at least.

            You won’t get away with this.  Not this time.  You’ve scoffed in the faces of your superiors like the high-and-mighty flaunter of established order that you are for all these years, staying just enough below the radar that you give yourself license to do whatever you want, but it ends today.  You’ve finally made enough mistakes that not even your persuasive speaking skills are going to get you out of this.

            I am no longer in a minority discussing this.  A number of people who will decide if you are not only still employed but still capable of employment anywhere in the nation are currently in talks, and let’s just say they aren’t looking positive as far as the continuation of your disgusting charade is concerned.  It might save you some time to start packing up some of your belongings now.

            I’ve got you now, Taylor.

Signed, Richard Philbin

Junior Executive of Interdepartmental Affairs

Report 7: “Stand Tall” Protest Rally, Interview 1: Jennifer Sheller

            As noted in the previous article included with this study that I received a few days ago, it’s increasingly apparent that my time and funds will soon be cut short.  In order to maximize the breadth of information I have access to before a decision is handed down from on high regarding my future involvement with Techilogic’s Human Relations Department, I’ve resolved to change up my movements for what will probably be the final leg of my study as it is officially sanctioned by Techilogic.

            Today I made my way to Washington D.C. on my own dime to help allay the curiosities of my superiors in order to attend a protest rally taking place in front of the city’s primary PMRD licensing facility.

            Jennifer Sheller is a fifty-four year old lawyer and activist with “Stand Tall,” a nonprofit group specifically formed to counter the widespread use of the PMRD as a disciplinary or penal device on human beings, and coincidentally the one holding the rally today.  She began as a volunteer with the group six years ago at its inception, but since then, and especially with the introduction of The Shrink Act, her political and social work has increased tirelessly such that she is now a primary coordinator of the Washington D.C. branch.  Though not married, she maintains a residence in the city with her longtime stockbroker boyfriend Justin Olivar.

            By the time I arrived at the area of the protest, the event was already in full swing, with upwards of five hundred people present.  All were clad in the group’s spirited yellow and navy blue colors and holding a variety of homemade signs on posters and sandwich boards.  The crowd was representative of a surprisingly balanced range of ages, ethnicities, and genders.  Several chants were already going in unison, among them being: “Stand Up, Raise Your Voice” and “Down with Shrinking, Up with Citizens.”

            Upon catching sight of Jennifer as I made my way through the protest area, I was struck by her stature.  She stands at easily six feet and two inches with the active build of someone who could’ve once played basketball and very well might still on a casual basis, which made it easier to find her amongst the throng of protestors.  When I first approached her, she asked that I wait for her under a tent that had been set up to hand out pamphlets and information to passerby, which was also far enough removed from the main crowd that our voices could actually be heard.  She walked over about ten minutes later after temporarily handing off the lead of the protest to one of her volunteers, stating she was ready to begin.

            After the interview, she insisted on being referred to in my notes as Jenny.

TC: It’s good to meet you, Ms. Sheller.  I appreciate you taking time to talk to me today.  I realize you’re pretty busy here today and want to let you get back to work as soon as I can.

Jenny: No problem, but you’re right, we’ve got our hands full here this morning.

TC: I’ll admit, I was surprised you were so willing to speak to me, and not just because of how much is going on this morning.

Jenny: I’m sure.  When I first heard your message asking for an interview at our rally, I was tempted to call back just to leave a few choice words on your machine because of the company you come from, but, well… I did some research on you and changed my tune.

TC: I’m certainly glad you did.  Could we get started?

Jenny: Please.

TC: How did you get involved with Stand Tall?

Jenny: I was there when it was started six years ago.  I’d been doing some work on my own for a number of years before that, actually, since the PMRD started becoming the phenomenon that it is now.  Writing letters, giving talks, getting meetings, making connections through the firm I used to work for.  None of it was really getting enough traction for me to be satisfied with it, and then I got wind that they were starting up a real activist group for others like me to come together and pool our strengths, specifically designed to target the PMRD and all the mess it’s gotten this country into.  It was a no-brainer for me then to get as involved as I could.

TC: Thank you.  Now, moving on, I was hoping you could share something with me.  Most of the people I’ve spoken to for my study are those directly impacted by The Shrink Act in some capacity, either those living under its discipline system, or those who have direct authority over these people as caretakers.  Would you fit into either of those groups?

Jenny: No.  I haven’t been penalized in any way by the Act, and I haven’t participated in anyone’s so-called “rehabilitation.”  In fact, I make a point to form no personal relationships with those who would utilize the system to punish or otherwise denigrate people.

TC: I see.  Then, of course, I have to ask: what is the interest for you?  What gave you the drive to become so active with the group?

            There was a pause here as she brushed her hand over her mouth, something I later interpreted as a nervous tic once I saw it happen several more times.

Jenny: I’m just someone who saw fellow citizens being cruelly mistreated and deprived of their rights to personal safety and basic human dignity.  I decided that action had to be taken.

TC: Ms. Sheller, I wonder if I might be so bold as to ask about something else I came across in my research.

            Jenny sighed, and visibly cringed.

Jenny: Oh.  We’re going there, are we?

TC: I’m sorry if that sounds forward.  I leave it entirely up to you to comment on it.  Just for the sake of getting the most honest picture of the situation, though, it seemed worth asking.  But if you-

Jenny: (cutting in) No.  No, that’s all right.  If you’re really wanting to use me as part of your study, we might as well clear the air and give you… the fuller story.  Go ahead.  Ask what you’re going to ask about me when I was nineteen.

TC: If you’re sure.  My notes say that in your teenage years you were a personal friend of Carly Arton, perpetrator of what most just call The Carly Incident and occasion of the first documented shrinking of human beings.

Jenny: That is what they’re calling it now, isn’t it?  Yes, you’re right.  We were friends.  Best… friends.  Teammates on the basketball team in middle and high school and basically inseparable the rest of the time.  Since we were twelve years old, actually, and up until we were freshmen undergrads, when everything… came out.  About her.  About what she did… to her brother.

            Jenny’s tone became positively disgusted at the mention of this time in her life.

TC: Please correct me if this is out of order, but would it be unfair to assume that this event played a role at all in your current enthusiasm for Stand Tall?

Jenny: Not at all.  I don’t bring it up if it doesn’t warrant mentioning, because I want the focus of my efforts to be on getting justice for people, not on a dramatic story from thirty years ago.  But of course it played a role.  And since we’re already discussing it like this, I might as well admit that it was really the main reason I started working in the first place.

TC: At what point did you realize that you wanted to do this kind of work?

Jenny: Well, obviously, this kind of work wasn’t even necessary until the PMRD could be legally used on people, but even when it first entered public use for nonorganic matter twenty years ago, it worried me a great deal and got me thinking about places they were going to start taking the technology.  Just because of what I knew had happened when someone who had been… very close to me, someone who was one of the friendliest and most dedicated people I had known, was capable of… well…

TC: I see.  And finding out, then, about Ms. Arton’s activities, this was what sparked that interest in fighting for social justice?

            Another pause came on here.  I couldn’t help but wonder what it was I could’ve said differently to illicit such discomfort from Jenny when she’d already been more than forthcoming.

Jenny: Yes.  Yes, it was.

            My analyst’s intuition was buzzing inside my head about the likely presence of sudden disingenuousness on the part of my interviewee, but I decided to ignore it for the time being.

TC: Fascinating.

Jenny: It was a pretty major turnaround.  I needed it, honestly.  To be able to keep moving.

TC: Really.  I wasn’t aware of that part.  Why?

Jenny: I had a lot of… problems.  After Carly was found out.  I… had to take some time away from it all.  It wasn’t good.

TC: What do you mean?

Jenny: I had a breakdown, I guess is what you’d call it?  That was what they called it.  I just think of it now as the time I shut down completely.

TC: What caused it?

            Another brush of the hand.

Jenny: No one thing.  Really.  I was just a very… different person as a teenager.

TC: Who isn’t?

Jenny: No.  I mean I was something much different.  I was in a bad way.  Frankly, I think the breakdown needed to happen to steer me back toward anything remotely normal.  I was a ticking time bomb.

TC: Are you saying it had something to do with the Artons?

            Jenny blinked rapidly a few times, possibly from the sunlight streaming under the tent, but by this point I had to assume it was for other reasons.

Jenny: Somewhat.  Yes.  That was a… major blow to me.

TC: Having to find out about Jack Arton?

Jenny: Yes, but more just coming to terms with it.  What was done to him.

TC: While he was with his sister, you mean?

            Another brush of the hand.

Jenny: Yes.

TC: So how did that all go, then?  Did you receive medical attention for the breakdown?

Jenny: Yes.  I spent almost a year in a clinic after that.  I went in a couple months after Carly was found out.  All the thinking I was doing about… everything, at that time.  Who I was, who I knew, some choices I’d made because I was so focused on myself.  It destroyed me.  I couldn’t cope anymore.

TC: If you don’t mind my asking, what was it about that time?  What made you so different from the person you are today?

Jenny: There were certain things I… wanted.  Certain things I thought I was entitled to, I suppose.  I believed I was something much more important than I was.  Than I am. 

TC: I see.  Were those kinds of thoughts overcome during your time at the clinic?

Jenny: Yes, they were.  It was like a personal purge.  When I came back out, I started doing things a lot differently.  I changed schools and cut ties with almost all of the people I used to think were friends.  It wasn’t an easy transition because of how long I’d been in, but eventually I learned to refocus myself.  I gave up the basketball team and started putting all my effort into volunteer work and my grades.  Ended up getting into law school, worked my butt off for a lot of years, and now here I am doing this.

TC: Thank you for sharing.  I know it can’t be easy.

Jenny: It ought to be said now and again.  I won’t be the kind of person who becomes complacent ever again.

TC: That makes sense.  Now, I know about your drive to do this kind of work, but with how involved you are here, I’d think you have a decent picture of everyone else’s path too.  What about the people here?  Where do they come from?

Jenny: Some of them, like me, just saw a problem, but many of them have personal experience.  Many were shrunken frequently in their youth as a punishment and suffered a great deal of hurt for it since then.  Some were even previous wielders of the punishment coming back for redemption after realizing the damage it did.  Still more of them are those that were recently released from the first sentences handed down by the Shrink Act.

TC: Interesting.

Jenny: More and more, this is happening.  The Shrink Act is acting as a call to many people.  It’s getting them to raise their voices.  They realize the time to act is now.

TC: What would you say to the people who argue for the benefits of the Act?

Jenny: Which ones are you referring to?

TC: Well, for example, the people that say groups like yours are trying to dismantle the entire penal system and let people off scot-free.

Jenny: I see.  I’ve encountered this idea quite a bit.  Look, many people have done wrong.  I myself have done… a great deal of wrong in my life.  I don’t shy away from that, nor do many of them.  Corrective measures will always be around, as I see it, because we don’t live in a perfect society, and we certainly still won’t even if the PMRD as a disciplinary weapon goes away.  That’s not what this is about.  This is about maintaining humanity.  Basic humanity.  No one deserves to have theirs stripped from them.  All we want is for people to keep their ears open.

TC: Very good.

Jenny: Any other challenges you were referring to?

TC: I think another common one posed to you is the idea that the Shrink Act does seem to be having benefits for certain people from juvenile delinquents to hardened criminals.  They say removing the Shrink Act would undo the good done here.

Jenny: The answer is still the same.  We don’t deny the benefit of corrective measures under certain circumstances, even ones as wildly flawed as the Act.  We simply need people to keep aware of what their system is doing for them.  And to them.  That’s all.

TC: One last question for you.  Where do you see Stand Tall advancing in the next couple years?  What are the goals?

Jenny: Ideally?  Abolishing the Shrink Act completely, but we have to be realistic now because of the unfortunate momentum the thing has gained recently, and probably will continue to gain, especially with Judy Stevens’ senatorial campaign.  There’s a list of short terms goals probably too long to get into fully, but the idea is to get people talking in the right places about what makes the Shrink Act so wrong.  We need people to start understanding not just the dangers its use puts citizens in, but our entire system.  The kind of mindset it’s creating on justice, on personal rights, on corrective measures… it’s sickening, and it terrifies me that so many people can’t see it yet.

TC: What is your role in all of that, then?  The group itself, I mean.

Jenny: We like to see ourselves as liaisons to truth.  We present the numbers, the accounts, the voices.  And we hope people, even those who seem to believe they’ve achieved peace just by taping everyone’s mouths closed, can begin to see what’s happening for themselves.

TC: So you’re here to be a gateway to the information.

Jenny: Precisely.  Of course, it’s not our job to just stand around, either.

TC: It’s your job to stand tall.

Jenny: (laughs) I didn’t know you Techilogic people had a sense of humor, even if it’s a terrible one.

TC: Some of us try.  Thank you so much for your time, Ms. Sheller.

Jenny: Please.  Just Jenny.

            I thanked Jenny for her time and managed to secure a follow-up interview for an update on the progress of Stand Tall in combatting the Shrink Act in a year’s time, though I had serious doubts about whether or not the interview would still be taking place in an official context.  Regardless of whether it is, I do hope to hear more from her at some point, considering how much I had the strong sense she was hiding about her youth.  She is, of course, entitled to privacy about her personal matters, but there was a certain reservation she seemed to have around matters that didn’t directly involve her breakdown that give me reason to believe there’s a lot more to hear from her.  It was, in my opinion, a successful preliminary interview.  After confirming another meeting, Jenny returned into the crowd to push her way back to the front.

            No sooner had I finished packing my briefcase back up under the tent and began peering over the heads of the crowd for the nearest way back to the parking lot when I felt a tap on my shoulder.

Report 7: “Stand Tall” Protest Rally, Interview 2: Faith

            I turned around at the tap on my shoulder to find myself facing a teenage girl of probably no more than seventeen with a wild mane of curly brown hair and dressed in a flannel jacket.  I nearly did a double take when making eye contact, as her irises were piercingly silver, bordering on a ghostly hue.  I might’ve assumed she was blind if she hadn’t met my gaze perfectly.

TC: Yes?  Can I help you?

Faith: Maybe.  Did I hear you right?  Earlier?

TC: Well, I’m not sure.  What did you hear?

Faith: You’re from Techilogic?

TC: Yes, you heard right.

            There was a pause here as she furrowed her brow, studying me intently, and with some understandable suspicion given the venue we found ourselves in.  She crossed her arms.

Faith: Why are you here?

TC: At the rally, you mean?

Faith: Yes.

TC: I was interviewing Jennifer Sheller.

Faith: What for?

            Knowing the girl’s aggressive questions were probably coming from paranoia at the sight of a perceived foe within the bounds of a safe space for free speech, and given my currently tenuous position at Techilogic, I saw no reason to withhold information.

TC: I’m conducting a study on the Shrink Act, and speaking to people who have been involved in the matter in some capacity.

Faith: Okay.

            Her tone suggested she didn’t fully believe me.

TC: It was a very informative discussion.

Faith: Informative how?

TC: I just hadn’t had the chance to speak with someone so involved in an activist group before, and since Stand Tall is currently the largest one in the nation, it was a good chance to hear the opinion of someone in the thick of it.

Faith: Oh.  That’s good.

TC: The research has been helpful to me, and I hope it can be to others at some point.

Faith: So that’s what your study is?  You talk to people about what they think about the Shrink Act?
TC: Well, many of my interviews were with people currently serving shrunken house arrests, or their caretakers, so the line of questioning was a little varied based on that, but yes.

Faith: Doesn’t that limit you a little?

TC: I suppose so, yes.  I can’t coerce truth or even answers out of everyone.  It’s a fly-on-the wall perspective at best.  But it wasn’t something that was being looked at in any real capacity that I could see, so I thought it might as well be me who started doing it.

Faith: No, not like that.  I mean doesn’t it limit you just talking to people who are under the Shrink Act, when there are others who could probably give you more?

TC: What do you mean?  Who?

Faith: You’re only talking to the people that your company is okay with letting you talk to.  If you really wanted some “informative” talks, you’d find the others.  The ones who have to stay hidden.  If Techilogic let you talk to the people they don’t want you talking to, the Shrink Act would be burned to the ground in a couple weeks.

            I was thrown off for a moment here.  I was beginning to suspect more and more that this girl had a specific alternate agenda, but then again, who am I to fault someone for a fact like that, when much of this study was conducted on such a thing?

TC: I wouldn’t know where to go to get into those conversations.  I know people are out there who have claims, but-

Faith: But you don’t know where they are or what happened to them.

TC: Well, most don’t.

Faith: Don’t you think that’s a little strange?

TC: Of course it is.

Faith: So what do you do about it?

TC: Go looking.  I’ve been in the process of it after a very revealing second interview I had with one of my subjects, actually, but there’s only so much available.  I don’t have the answers.

            The girl gave me a slight condescending smirk, but there was pain behind her eyes I had trouble fully discerning.

Faith: You want answers?  You want truth?

TC: Of course.

Faith: Then just start looking into the empty spaces: the lost people, the cracks in time where there’s so much nothing that it doesn’t even make sense.  Where somebody obviously had to do some erasing to make things look pretty on the other side.

TC: Like what?  I don’t understand.  Look, miss, you obviously have something specific on your mind that you want me to know about.  Please, just give me something to work with.  A place, a name, something.

Faith: Julia Mack.

            I had to pause for a moment.  She said the name as if I should recognize it, but I didn’t.

TC: I haven’t heard of her.

Faith: Exactly.

TC: Who is she?
Faith: Well, according to your company, she’s nobody.  Nobody at all.  Wouldn’t that have been enough for you at some point?

TC: It would’ve, yes.  A long time ago.  But not anymore.  I haven’t been able to take anything Techilogic’s said at face value for a number of years now.

Faith: So?

TC: So, I’m not your enemy.  I’m not anyone’s enemy.  I just want to understand.

            She smirked again.

Faith: Then why don’t you do yourself a favor and find out who Julia is?  And maybe ask your company, too.  I’m sure that would be the more interesting answer.

TC: So you’re trying to tell me she’s someone who disappeared?

Faith: I’m not trying to tell you anything except to try opening your eyes a little wider to just how much is going on here.

            The longer this conversation went on, I felt like I was becoming lost in a surreal drunken fever dream.  I’d never heard someone speak like this with such simultaneously unflinching sharpness and calculated vagueness, and it was all coming from a nameless teenage girl who approached me under a tent while chaos unfurled around us.

TC: What’s your name?

Faith: Faith.

TC: Do you have a last name?

Faith: Yes.

TC: Okay.

            I paused for a moment, but she was clearly done divulging.

TC: What do you want from me?

Faith: Just look up Julia Mack.

TC: Where are you suggesting I look?  I can’t start the search if you won’t tell me what you know.

Faith: You must be a smart guy to be working there, right?  You can probably find a way to see things, even if they don’t really want you to.  Try and see if you can unbury her.  And maybe then you’ll get a better idea of exactly the kind of place that gives you money at the end of the week.

            Faith had stepped back and disappeared back into the crowd before I had a chance to pose another question.  I peered around for her for a few minutes, but her shorter stature and the growing crowd made rediscovering her a severe impracticality, so I resolved to leave this particular “interview” as a loose end for now.

            The bizarre conversation with the girl left me with a pit in my stomach and fresh determination.  She didn’t put anything in explicit terms, but given all I’ve seen during this study, and the kind of risk I’m currently in of being among the nation’s unemployed once again, I’ve resolved to go out on a limb and look into what paltry information she provided to me, even if it means putting myself at risk for arrest for the second time in the course of this study.

            There’s a lot of work to be done.  The first and most pressing of tasks now is the repossession of certain materials from my office and the Techilogic Corporation before my termination from this job, which was shaky before, but will undoubtedly be history after it’s discovered that I’ve attended this rally for interviews.  I estimate that I’ll have around two days after my return to the office before I’m asked to leave.  Luckily, I am efficient.  And though I can’t be certain, I’ve been around long enough to know where in the building Techilogic might try to hide some of its dirty laundry to keep the stench from leaking out.

            The second task and quite possibly just as troubling will be getting an answer that’s now been bothering me since my discussion with Faith for reasons I cannot hope to explain: who is Julia Mack?

Report 8: Closing Thoughts and Relevant Notes

            My letter of termination came later than I was expecting by three days.  It was more than enough time for me to get everything packed up that I needed.  I was amused to discover that I truly am as capable a judge of causality as I thought when the head of my department Candice informed me, in gentler terms than my dear former coworker Mr. Philbin, of the exact reasons for my prompt expulsion from the company.

            Apparently, it was, in fact, my consistent refusal to listen to a single demand Techilogic made to infringe on the honesty of my study.  It was good to have the air cleared.

            I’ve moved apartments with a different name on the lease.  Nothing was said to me about it, but I’m beginning to feel I couldn’t remain there for much longer, in case Techilogic decided to kick some dirt up in my face.  I’m already making plans to leave the state within the month.  I have a feeling they’ll have some choice words and/or actions with me if I remain in their sights for much longer.

            And who’s to blame them, given the number of digital souvenirs I managed to procure from some of their secure files before leaving the building?  I have my fingers crossed that they don’t discover which places I had a look until I am well out of their easy reach.

            I could tell Techilogic was monitoring my work computer, but with a few sleights of hand and some aid from a technologically savvy acquaintance, their defenses were easy enough to circumvent.  None of it is spelled out, at least from the little I’ve managed to check out so far, but there are enough leads here that I’ve got my work cut out for me, and I’ve only had the time to thoroughly comb through a fraction of what I borrowed.

            Nothing of usable substance has yet cropped up with regards to the name Julia Mack.  The most relevant information I can find is nearly two decades old.  Someone by the name of Julia Mack, a teenager at the time, is a child of then-prominent lawyer team Gene and Barbara Mack.  I haven’t been able to find much to their names within the last decade, however.  Despite the lack of available information, the mere fact that this tidbit was so tricky to dig up seems to warrant further search in order to understand why it was buried so deeply.  It’s my hope that the additional files I borrowed from Techilogic will continue to provide answers to the questions Faith was posing to me.

            Let’s just say I have a great new hobby to keep my busy now that I’m not longer a 9 to 5 man.  It’s a good thing I always was such a fan of reading.

            I’d only just begun unpacking some of the materials and absorbing the disjointed information when I received an email on an alternate account that I’ve infrequently used up to this point, as Techilogic hasn’t been able to get a look at it like with my work account.

            It made for intriguing reading:          

Mr. Taylor,

            I’d seen your name on a few journal articles in the last few years and liked what I saw.  Now that you’re no longer a part of Techilogic, I gather you’ve got a little more free time to make use of.  I also gather that someone with the kind of integrity I want to believe you possess wouldn’t let a mission for justice drop just because money wasn’t coming in and the former employers wanted you out of the picture.  By the way, if you haven’t started moving yet, you should be, because Techilogic won’t give you much of a head start.

            Save yourself the time of wondering how I got your information and just take into consideration what I’ve got to suggest to you.  From what I know of who you’ve talked to for your “Shrink Act Files” project, you’ve barely scratched the surface.  And that’s putting it lightly.

            Take my advice and go back to the beginning.  The very beginning.  You likely don’t know where that is, so I’ll give you a hint.  If you want to get your hands on some interesting information, get yourself over to Avalon Valley.  It’s a small town out in Nevada near the mountains, and I’m guessing you haven’t heard much of it, because no one has for a very long time.  Techilogic is good at hushing people up when it needs to, but even the nation’s biggest corporation can’t throw a big enough blanket to hide an entire town if people know where to look.

            Even more relevant to your interests, I think, is the reason why they felt the need to cover Avalon up.  If you think covering a town up is hard, imagine what they had to do to cover up the reason to cover it up.  Or rather, her.  And believe me when I say there was a lot of her to cover.

            Happy trails, Mr. Taylor.  I’ll contact you again at a later date with great interest in whether or not you’ve decided to pursue this.  From what I can discern of your passion for uncovering the truth at all costs, though, I have hope that it will be a positive answer.

-Jack A.

            For all I know, the email is a scam, or even an elaborate hoax by Techilogic already to ruin me before I get a chance to sweep their secrets out from under the rug.  I know precisely who this person intends me to think he is, and confirming that it is indeed him could be a tremendous boon to my research, though until I know for sure, I will proceed cautiously and from a very safe distance.  Regardless, as this Jack A. stated, with all the time I now have on my hands, and presumably a need to stay on the move once Techilogic catches onto the information I borrowed from their files, it’s a project at least worth looking into.

            I could use a vacation after all of this anyway.

            Normally when I conduct studies like this, I conclude my reports with a summation of my professional opinion and reading of the source material.  Seeing as I, currently, will be the only reader of the material until such time that I can begin to make more sense of Techilogic’s files, though, I’ve decided no such thing will be necessary in this case.  Direct address of my reports will be limited, and instead used in my continued search for possibilities to aid certain of my sources in any way I can.  In lieu of a formal closing report, I’ve resolved to go a little more for the big picture here with a very simple idea cut down to its purest form.

            Techilogic is wrong.

            The PMRD is wrong.

            The Shrink Act is wrong.

            Further, all the work I’ve done before to fight for the ethical treatment of shrunken individuals was useless.  I was trying to play within the system, having not fully realized that Techilogic itself had constructed that system from its very own bricks and mortar.

            I can no longer work like that, and luckily, I have no interest in doing so.  I’ve seen just enough below the surface to know nobody’s playing by the rules they said they were at first, and if I’m going to have any kind of success, I’ve got to do the same.

            I’ve wondered for a long time what it would be like to work for myself.  When all this began, and I knew there was a strong possibility my efforts would see me removed from Techilogic, I fully believed I would soon be alone and researching for my own purposes.

            After what I’ve seen in this study, I know I still won’t know what it’s like to work for myself, because there are far more important things going on here, and as I see no one else making meaningful strides for these silenced individuals, I figure it might as well be me who gets the ball rolling.