To Alexandra Warren, the capital city through the bullet train window looked larger than ever.

            She thought after a lifetime spent in a mega metropolis surrounded by citizens of all shapes and sizes, and particularly spending her adolescence in a home owned by one-hundred-fifty-foot adoptive family members, it might all seem pedestrian now, but it didn't. Lexi felt just as small, and she wasn't even one of the thumb-sized people.

            The Alpha ran her fingers through the dark strands of long hair hanging over her eyes. She'd fallen asleep for the last leg of the journey, and still felt the haze of sleep-drunkenness stinging her cranium, though that could've just been her nerves for the upcoming destination. Seeing the white city instead of grassy countryside through the window already had Lexi's heart palpitating. Her hand dug through the pocket of her jacket, confirming both keys she needed were still tucked inside.

            Across the aisle, chattering caught Lexi's attention. She yawned, and turned her head to the side, surprised to find the enclosed Beta café car opposite her box bustling with life. When she'd boarded, the glassed-in dollhouse-scaled restaurant was empty, but now it was packed to the gills with Betas sharing drinks and laughter.

            "BETA TESTERS" read the neon sign over the bar: a distinct sense of humor in the smallest class which was foreign to Lexi. Three-inch-tall patrons crowded around little tables, ordering drinks at the bar, while wait staff scurried about with trays full of food, hardly paying attention to the much-larger thoroughfare of the train car beyond their designated quarters.

            All of them existing happily in the same arena as a race which a mere century ago hounded, enslaved, and exterminated them. It was a sight Lexi wasn't used to, even in a city which prided itself on full class integration, but the visage of the tiny Beta café made her feel an unexpected swell of comfort, though she couldn't explain why. It wasn't like she recognized any of the miniature faces behind the glass.

            Out of the corner of her eye, Lexi caught sight of the only Beta not engaged completely in the merrymaking of their travels and meals: a willowy golden-haired girl who couldn't have been more than three years younger than Lexi herself. The three-inch stranger stood up against the window separating the café from the Alpha seats, her hand on the glass, and appeared to be staring directly at Lexi. Light streaming in from outside distorted Lexi's view of the girl, and for an instant, the Alpha thought she recognized that face. She flinched, her heart blanching like she'd just awoken from a dream by simulating a sky dive. After squinting and leaning into the aisle, though, Lexi confirmed for herself that she didn't know the Beta girl after all.

            Several minutes of awkward staring contest followed between Lexi and the unknown passenger. The Alpha supposed she ought to break her gaze before the Beta read the gesture as hostile; after all, elongated eye contact could mean something far different when you were looking into the dinner-plate pupils of a being twenty-two times the size of you. Lexi knew that fact personally, from all the time she'd spent around Omegas, though at least they had the built-in social benefit of a universal reputation for guardianship and altruism. With an Alpha, and all the selfish humanity that implied, you could never know for certain where you stood, and Lexi occasionally included herself in that judgment too.

            At last the Beta turned around, presumably to rejoin the café festivities, and Lexi was relieved. Rather than watching the girl disappear back into the tiny crowd, though, the Alpha instead spotted the door on the side of the restaurant which led onto the fenced walkway running the length of the train. The way opened, and the stranger stepped out. Now no longer separated by more than a mesh fence and three feet of open space, Lexi leaned on the train armrest. However, she averted her gaze from the Beta. At this point, though, it was clear that the girl was indeed looking right at her.

            "Hello." The little voice was nearly lost to the white noise rumble of the bullet train's rails down below, but Lexi could make it out all the same. Even with multiple Alpha conversations going on down the aisle, she didn't mistake the Beta's word.

            "Uh, hey," Lexi said, clearing her throat. After not having spoken for at least twenty-four hours, her voice came out as a half-croak. Lexi gave her brunette locks another streak over her shoulder, clearing her eye line.

            "I'm sorry to bother you." The soft-spoken Beta's tone was strangely apologetic for someone who hadn't committed a crime more severe than speaking to someone they didn't know.

            "What? No, um, it's no problem. What's up?"

            "I just thought I recognized you. Do I know you?"

            "I don't think so," Lexi said. "My bad, if you felt like I was staring."

            "Oh, okay. I wondered if you recognized me, too."

            "I thought I did. You remind me of... um, never mind," Lexi said. She batted her eyes, still having to convince herself that she wasn't looking at the three-inch manifestation of Bridget Cade, circa five years ago. That resemblance was, frankly, filling Lexi with a curious urge to reach out and touch the tiny blonde stranger, a notion she quickly had to tuck into the back of her mind before she even creeped herself out.

            "Well, my name is Opal," the Beta said, just as pleasant as ever, despite Lexi's half-asleep droning. She stuck her arm through the mesh of the fence, her hand amiably extended into the aisle. "Nice to meet you."

            Where did Betas like Opal get that near-aggressive friendliness, Lexi pondered? If she was born into a world made for beings hundreds or thousands of times her own size, she couldn't imagine finding the energy to greet strangers. Shrugging, Lexi leaned over to the walkway, uncurled her index finger, and placed the pad of her digit on Opal's waiting palm. Despite the disparity in size and strength, the two young women managed an approximation of hand/finger-shaking.

            It occurred to Lexi in this moment that, given her isolated style of quasi-monastic living these past twenty-one months, she could've counted the number of Betas she'd spoken to on one hand. Hell, she could've held them in one hand. The usual bodily awareness she felt whenever addressing a Beta returned instantly, in the same way one might react to having one's image projected onto a Jumbo-Tron. As someone who'd spent much of the last decade riding in the hand of a giantess, Lexi understood just how much those in the smaller positions could see.

            "Alexandra," the Alpha said as she lifted her finger away from the Beta's hand. By now, she'd turned herself into the armrest so she could pick up the girl's words better.

            Recognition lit in Opal's tiny eyes. Even in a body so small and a train car buzzing with background distractions, Lexi didn't have to be on the same plain to see the connection made. Instantly the little blonde's body language adjusted. She went rigid, and took a step back away from the mesh fencing. That was the specter of fear.

            Lexi's stomach tightened. She knew that look, though she'd been spared the sight of it for a long time. That same discomfort, albeit amplified to horrifying extremes, was worn by a pair of Betas the last time Lexi saw her birth mother twelve years before, when Alma Warren took it upon herself to educate her daughter in the art of genocide. Internally, Lexi reminded herself that there was a perfectly good reason why she kept mostly to herself for the past year and three-quarters.

            For another couple of minutes, Lexi and Opal faced off in silence, though each now exclusively stared at their shoes. The Alpha supposed she ought to consider it a plus that this girl had recognized her and still refrained from sprinting back into the sanctity of the restaurant.

            "I guess you know me after all, huh?" Lexi said at last. She dared cast another glance at the Beta through the fence. To Opal's credit, she wasn't trembling or visibly on the verge of tears, and met Lexi's gaze again.

            "M-Maybe."

            "Would it help if I told you that whatever bad stuff you heard isn't true?"

            "I'm s-sorry, I... guess I thought it might be you. I've never seen you before, for real, but I... I mean, I've..."

            "You know someone else in my family better than me."

            "Y-Yes."

            Lexi nodded. She took care not to make any sudden movements now, anxious of spooking the already-spooked Beta further. One year ago, almost to the day, her famous parent made the news for her contribution to a terrorist attack in the heart of this very city which attempted to slaughter thousands of Beta children en masse during a peaceful celebration of inter-class unity. Though Lexi still lived with the memory of her psychotic mother every day, seeing Alma's face plastered on a television screen had been a startling intrusion into her retreat. Of course, she could only imagine that her own fear of her mother's face was nothing compared to the three-inch-tall schoolchildren who were nearly gassed like lab rats inside Alma's death contraption.

            And then Lexi put two and two together.

            "Oh, God..." Lexi uttered aloud, not meaning to let the words out. Her instinct was to jump into the aisle to be near to the girl, and for a second she jolted, but restrained herself again. "You..."

            "You don't have to say it," Opal said. She sunk to the ground, sitting on the walkway path, and wrapped her arms around her knees. Against all odds, a small smile crossed her lips; Lexi had to double-take to be sure, but it was there. "I've talked to enough people about that day already."

            "I wasn't going to ask," Lexi reassured.

            The awkwardness the Alpha felt burgeoning in her lungs increased tenfold. If it wasn't tricky enough talking to a Beta given her family history, she realized now she was speaking to someone who very narrowly avoided becoming one of her mother's victims. Not exactly the calming return trip she'd hoped for as she prepared to meet with Bridget and Evelyn.

            "Please, just so you know... I didn't recognize you because of your... mom," Opal continued, regaining stability in her voice. Her tone was so sharp and hesitant that it almost reminded the Alpha of twinkling high-octave piano keys. "You don't look like her."

            Lexi now shared the unlikely smirk on the face of her new Beta acquaintance. She took that observation as a major compliment, given the catlike severity that a decade in prison, and general cruelty, had inflicted on her mother's appearance.

            "Thanks."

            "I didn't mean to be rude. I... know you're not like her."

            Again, Lexi let herself relax a little more. "Don't feel bad. I think I'd probably think the same things if I saw me, too. Probably worse."

            "I remembered seeing your face... a while ago, in the newspaper," Opal said. "After what happened with... um, the guy. The one that said those things about you."

            There it was. While Lexi had been cleared of the charges involving Nathaniel Tyler's framing of her in wrongful vengeance, and publicly exonerated with continual apologies from all authority parties involved, who was to say every Beta bought into the hype? Personally, Lexi doubted she could be certain of the truth, if she were in the half-inch shoes of her Beta contemporaries.

            "Oh, yeah," Lexi said.

            "I just... wanted to say something. If it's... all right. Please."

            Lexi was desperate to shut the conversation down, but the pleading earnesty in Opal's voice caught her off-guard again, and she shrugged. They were already in this deep; what was the harm in salting the wound a little?

            "Sure."

            "We're not all like him."

            A surreal ripple rolled over Lexi's brain. She was sure she'd misheard. Blinking, she arose slowly from her train seat, gripped the backrest for support, and knelt down in the aisle. Now less than a foot away from the walkway, the Alpha bowed down to the level of the tiny passenger. Their stares deadlocked, and Lexi saw Opal's face with perfect clarity now. She really was a ringer for Bridget.

            "What did you say?"

            "I s-said... we're not all the same," Opal said. "Betas, I mean. We don't all hate the Alphas, or... you, especially." The girl's small voice was just as lilting and melodic, but it had grown in conviction. "I just thought you should know, in case no one's told you. That I'm sorry for what happened to you. P-Please, just remember. We're not so bad."

            Lexi cradled her cheek in her palm, her jaw hanging slightly open. There were so many things she wanted to correct. So many unjust misconceptions present in the girl's humble offering. The very idea that this little Beta, who twelve months ago saw her life flash before her eyes when she was nearly exterminated by Lexi's mother, actually saw the need to defend her own worth to Lexi made the Alpha sick to her stomach. The world was a bizarre, and frequently unfair place, as far as Lexi saw it. Somehow, social order had dictated in Opal's mind that she had to apologize to an Alpha on behalf of her species. Lexi couldn't imagine what she ought to say to this girl to make things all right.

            Against her better judgment, Lexi lifted a hand to the mesh fence, and pressed her fingertips on the netting. She bit her lip. As expected, Opal flinched, but didn't move, remaining sitting in front of the walled spires of Lexi's digits. After a moment, the Beta touched her own hand to the nearest bulge of Alpha finger flesh pressing between the strands. The touch of that miniature hand was soft and near-imperceptible, like brushing a drop of cream, but she felt it. Lexi was subconsciously aware that multiple patrons of the Beta Testing restaurant were now gawking at her and this girl, but she didn't care.

            Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, the bullet train itself saved Lexi from the burden of knowing what to say. The cheerful digital bell tolled, signifying they were arriving at the station. The floor shuddered softly during the slow-down approach, and as the train lurched to a full stop, the doors on all ends of the cars slid open. Lexi blushed, and removed her hand from the fence. The sensory memory of Opal's hand on her skin lingered; was that what Bridget felt whenever she held her finger? When she stood back to her full height, Lexi felt even sicker having to look down on the Beta.

            "This is my stop," Lexi said, nodding at the nearest exit. She heaved her bag out from under the seat. "I, um... I'm..."

            "Good luck to you, Alexandra," Opal said sweetly.

            "Same to you." Lexi waved goodbye on her way down the ramp, long after she could still see the three-inch girl, and ached with the desire to actually deserve that wish from a stranger.