--Murphy's Twenty-Seventh Law of Sex

KellyAnn Johnson
Middlebrook Hall
West Bank, University of Minnesota

I awoke with my head pounding, and the room spinning, and everything generally messed up.

I never should've gone over to see those guys, but Sarah needed to have a few, after the day we'd had.

What kind of a day had we had again?

Oh yeah...going to Uptown, meeting the psychic, meeting a guy who had been shrunk but wasn't anymore....

Hey, that little guy Lor and I found is okay! D.X. says so!

Who's D.X.? Oh yeah, the guy who was shrunk and now isn't. I hope he and Teri patch things up. He seems like a nice guy.

I need a nap.

My reverie was broken by the door swinging inward violently, and a very agitated Sarah bursting into the room.

Odd that Sarah should be bursting into our room. Where was she? Last I'd seen her she was making whiskey sours by pouring one part whiskey and one part sour into people's mouths.

"Kelly, Kelly, are you up? I need you to be up. I fucked up bad, Kelly.

"Sar....it can't be that bad."

"Trust me, it's that bad," she said.

"Oh, come now. It's not like you fucked Kyle or something.

She was quiet for enough time that my eyes snapped open. "You fucked Kyle?" I whispered.

She nodded, dumbly.

"Well you used protection, right?"

She started to tear up.

"Oh. Oh my God. Okay, yeah, I'm getting up Sarah. I'm getting up."

* * *

Scott Chelgren
The Apartment of Ginny Snider and Mira Swenson
Minneapolis

Morning came.

For the first time in two days, I was full. But in the cold light of morning, I realized my situation was still not good. I would have to be careful to leave when neither Mira nor Ginny was around.

I couldn't trust either of them. Mira was obviously unhappy with me--deservedly so, up to a point--and Ginny....

Ginny might help me. She really might. Her heart was good. But despite her infidelity with me, she cared deeply for her friends. And Mira was her best friend. That she was still her best friend despite our actions was a testament to their friendship.

And for that reason, I couldn't trust her. I would have to escape this apartment, and find some other way--even a random stranger would offer more help than these two.

Mira wandered out into the kitchen, dressed in a short silk robe, the kind that she'd worn when we'd dated. It was a faux-oriental style; it accentuated her asian half.

She looked as hot as any woman alive when she wore it.

"WELL WELL, SCOTT. TIME TO RISE AND SHINE....FUCK!"

She'd obviously noticed that I was gone.

"SCOTTY, YOU'VE OBVIOUSLY DECIDED TO RUN AWAY. THAT'S NOT VERY NICE. BUT I'LL TELL YOU WHAT. YOU COME BACK TO ME RIGHT NOW AND WE'LL FORGET THIS EVER HAPPENED.

"BUT IF I HAVE TO FIND YOU...YOU'D PROBABLY RATHER BE DEAD RIGHT NOW."

I took her at her word. As she began tearing the kitchen apart, I hunkered down.

I wasn't expecting to have the trash can knocked over.

* * *

Anonymous
Somewhere in Minnesota

Happily, the girl had discarded her stuffed beast in the middle of the night. I awoke on the floor of a five-year-old girl's room, and I endeavoured to escape quickly.

I left the room, and tried again to undo the hex Veronica had cast on me. And I had marginal success; I shot up to almost four inches in height. More manageable, I thought. I tried for more, but to no avail.

I walked a bit further, before I realized that there had been an advantage to my previous size. Stealth.

I realized this as the giant girl exited her room, and emitted a high-pitched shriek of delight.

"NEAT!" she said, as she grasped me clumsily.

This was not going the way one would hope.

* * *

Teri Rowland
The Home of Teri Rowland
Uptown
Minneapolis, Minnesota

I felt a tiny sensation at my left hip. Like a nibbling gnat or the brush of exactly one strand of hair. Ever so carefully, I lifted myself up and looked down.

It was Jake, down to four inches tall, caressing me softly.

"You didn't need to do that," I said.

"I know," he replied, smiling. "It seemed the thing to do, though."

I reached down and plucked him, and drew my hand up to my face. "You know, Jake, I don't mind us being at our normal sizes."

"Neither do I," he said, beaming. "But I like this too. I didn't get into this business for the hours, Teri. I got into it because I enjoy GTS, I love what it can do, how it can rearrange the way we look at things. That's the beauty of it; that one person can surrender to another completely, and yet maintain their individuality.

"I like this perspective. It helps me get my bearings. And it shows me anew how beautiful you are."

I resisted the urge to kiss him; at his size my morning breath probably could've killed him. Instead, I smiled, and said, "If you don't grow to full size, how are we going to get breakfast at Mickey's?"

"We're driving all the way to Saint Paul?" he asked.

"Not if we don't get going soon."

"All right, set me down. Breakfast and a good woman. I don't know how my life could get better." He smiled at me, and as he grew, I saw in him the man I loved.

* * *

Sarah Kensington
The Uptowner
Grand Avenue
Saint Paul, Minnesota

I picked at my cajun eggs, and tried to pull myself together.

In the past four hours, I had come to a few conclusions. First, Kelly was definitely the best friend I could have. She had been almost perfect in dealing with me, getting me to the clinic, getting me to get a morning after pill, lecturing me--deservedly--on how I was lucky this was Kyle and not some maniac, and asking the right questions--did he force you? Did he coerce you?

No. It had been my idea. And she asked me the other question I needed to hear:

"So do you love Kyle?"

This led to my second conclusion: no, I did not love Kyle. If I loved Kyle, I wouldn't have come running into my room at 6:45 in the morning, acting as if I'd just murdered my grandma. Kyle was nice, and sweet in his own way, but I only loved one person.

We ate in silence, mostly. Kelly had dragged me here because, as she said, "You should get away from the college atmoshpere of the U and go to the college atmosphere of St. Thomas, St. Kate's, and William Mitchell College of Law. Besides, the cajun eggs are to die for."

She was daffy. I appreciated it.

"So you love Scott then." It wasn't a question, but a statement.

"Yeah, I do. Damn him."

"So...what are you going to tell Kyle?"

I paused. "Probably the standard boilerplate. It's not you, it's me, let's be friends, just casual sex, blah blah blah. Think he'll buy it?"

She smiled. "He's a guy, he got you into bed. He'll be fine in the end. Just make sure to complement him on his prowess. He'll thank you for breaking it off."

"I could mention marriage...and make him break it off with me."

She grinned. "But Kyle might take you up on that...and we don't want that. Now the other big question: are you going to tell Scott?"

I thought for half a second. "No. He's been in some odd places himself. Some were his fault, some were not so much his fault, but he's had a wide and varied existence since he became small. I don't think he needs to know this."

"Good," she said. "It'd only make him paranoid. Eat those eggs! You're going to need your strength."

"Why?" I asked.

"Because we're going back to Madame Theresa's today, and we're going to figure out where the heck Scott is, and then we're going to find him. Because I don't think I can stand another day of you moping around, and I certainly can't be getting you morning after pills every time you and I get drunk. Now, if you're done, I'm going to take 47 Tylenol, and we're off."

I really like Kelly.

I think she'll be my Maid of Honor--if there ever is a wedding.

* * *

Scott Chelgren

Things couldn't get much worse.

When Mira knocked the trash can over, I came flying out--all two inches of me, the height I had inexplicably chosen at that moment.

More than big enough for Mira to notice immediately.

"OH, SCOTT. NOW YOU'RE BIGGER. SO YOU CAN CHANGE SIZE, EH? DIDN'T MENTION THAT YESTERDAY. NOW WHY IS THAT?"

"Mira...for God's sake, if you weren't saying ominous things like 'you need to serve me,' maybe I'd be a bit more trusting. As it is, I don't quite trust you."

She grinned, menacingly. "I WOULDN'T TRUST ME IF I WERE YOU. WE'VE GOT A LOT OF CATCHING UP TO DO. TELL ME, CAN YOU SHRINK DOWN TO ABOUT AN INCH TALL?"

"Why?"

"BECAUSE IF YOU CAN, AND YOU DON'T IN THREE SECONDS, I'LL BRING MY HAND DOWN HARD ON THIS TABLE AND GOD HELP YOU IF IT LANDS ON YOU. ONE, TWO...."

This wasn't like her. But I wasn't going to argue with a woman who could bring thousands of tons of force to bear on me. I was one inch tall.

"GOOD. NOW...I'VE ALREADY SHOWERED, AND I WAS JUST ABOUT TO GET DRESSED. AND I WAS THINKING...I HAVEN'T FELT YOU INSIDE ME FOR A LONG TIME SCOTT. A LONG TIME. SO...HERE YOU ARE.

She picked me up roughly, and inserted me with a quick thrust between her labia. Once I was inside, she gave me a squeeze that caused me to wince. I'd been in this spot before, and it was fraught with peril.

"NOW...THAT FEELS GOOOOOD...." she said. "I'M GOING TO ENJOY MYSELF TODAY. AND TONIGHT. OH YES! THAT'S THE PURPOSE OF OUR VISIT, SCOTT. I'VE GOT MY THIRD DATE WITH A REALLY GOOD GUY. AND YOU--YOU GET TO COME ALONG FOR THE RIDE, AND SEE JUST HOW HOT HE MAKES ME, UP CLOSE AND PERSONAL."

As she pulled on her panties, I knew that this day was going to suck.

* * *

Anonymous

This day, as the youngsters say, was starting to suck.

I was in the girl's dollhouse, which was closed at the moment. She had immediately realized that I was exactly the right scale, so she made me the dolly daddy, and gave me a disconcertingly life-sized dolly mommy and three adorable dolly kids, and played with me for a good two hours before her mom woke up.

I hoped for a moment she would notice me, but she only said, "BRITTANY--PUT YOUR TOYS AWAY AND COME EAT YOUR BREAKFAST."

And so she had put me away, and angled the dollhouse so the front door was against the wall and the walls were shut tight. I would have to work on the windows, I thought, dispiritedly. I would not remain a girl's toy.

Brave words from a small man.

* * *

D.X. Machina
Mickey's Diner
Saint Paul, Minnesota

Mickey's is the kind of restaurant every city should have. It's a dining car in the middle of downtown St. Paul, an oasis of cholesterol in a fat-free world.

It's one of the best restaurants ever.

I sat and talked to Teri, enjoying myself immensely, when a man approached.

He looked a lot like me, with a clean-shaved head and a red goatee, and the three hundred pounds I had once carried. He could be my brother.

"D.X.?" he said. I started.

"Yes," I replied, unwillingly. I didn't want to say anything, but somehow, I had to tell this man whatever he wanted to know.

It frightened me.

"I won't take long," he said. "I'm not supposed to be here--not in this universe, anyhow."

Ah. A world-shifter. Like Szalinsky. We had met a bunch of them, people from parallel worlds. He must be one of them.

"No, I'm not a world-shifter. Not exactly. I'm an author, D.X. In fact, I'm the author."

I looked at him, and instinctively knew he was telling the truth.

He was the author of this universe. Each writer creates a world, with its own laws and rules. Each writer is God of that world, in a way, though each writer must be true to his or her own Gods.

This man was God of my world.

"No, not God. Not ever of that league. She's the Great Author, D.X., and I've never met her, and I'm not likely ever to meet her. But I'm not here to discuss theology or Heinleinian multiperson solipsism. I'm here to warn you of something. I wasn't going to, but then I realized that it wasn't fair to spring this on you."

I looked at him, and said quietly, "What?"

"The League and the Cadre are heading towards a final confrontation. And you, D.X., have to prevent it. You're going to need help. This young Mr. Chelgren will be of use to you, as will Sarah Kensington and Teri Rowland--hi Teri."

"Hi there, sir," she said, quietly.

"And there will be others you'll need, too. Jake, I can't repay you for Liz, but I can give you this warning: you must do the right thing, or the people you care for will die. The stakes are high. I know you won't disappoint me." With that, he turned and walked towards the door.

"Wait!" I cried, standing. He turned, smiling.

"I can't tell you my real name, D.X., but I write using your name. And that's why I showed up here in person, because what better means of working Deus ex machina into a story than by putting God into the machine?"

With that, he suddenly vanished, and I stood, silent.

"Jake," said Teri, quietly, "I think it's time for us to get going."

"Yes," I said, "I think you're right." I went for the check, only to see that it was already paid, with a note:

You are so fucking lucky. In my world, there's no shrinking. The physical laws prevent it. So revel in it, man! I love my fiancee, but I'll never see her from the perspecives I wish I could. Good luck.

All my love my son,

J

I looked at that letter for a long time before I picked up my coat and started towards the door.

* * *

Veronica Ceres
League Headquarters
New York City, New York

I was being made to wait.

I hated being made to wait. I was Vice President of the League, second in command of the entire shebang. And Leah Jackson was making me wait.

I was being punished; it was the only explanation.

Finally, the doors opened and Leah herself breezed out. "So sorry, dear, paperwork and all. You know how it is. By the way, have you fully documented your failure yet?

I winced. "I wouldn't class it as a failure. He doesn't want anything to do with the Cadre, and he's dating a low-level operative in the League. I think he'll come over eventually. But for the moment, it's probably best to let things develop. Give him some space, make the Cadre flush him out."

"Oh, Ronnie, if only that were possible. But time is of the essence. You see, there are a few of us who have decided that it may be time to consider a third way. Come with me."

I paused, before following her through a door in the back of her office.

I was surprised--a little--to see that it led to a room the size of four football fields. Obviously a little GTS tech at work here. There were six huge glass boxes, that upon closer inspection contained models of landscapes. And each one had numbers on the side: 12:1, 24:1, 72:1, 144:1, 288:1, and 576:1.

Closer inspection revealed that they weren't models.

These places were alive.

"Project Saturn. The ultimate fall-back plan," said Leah. "If we can't convince society to accept titanesses, maybe we can create societies that will."

"But how does this help us?" I asked.

"Well, that is a good question," she said in a sing-song voice. "If things don't go our way over, say, the next six months, then we create a temporal displacement, that wipes out every unprotected human. And we replace them with these people, four hundred years in the past, bred to believe that giantesses should walk among them. Ultimately, victory will be ours."

"What of causality?" I asked.

"Ronnie...big picture. Don't you want to be a Goddess?"

I walked up to the nearest model, the 288:1 one, where the people were 1/4 inch tall. I could see tiny figures gather, and run away from me.

I didn't want to be a Goddess. Not like this.

I looked at Leah, who was smiling, broadly.

"Victory will be ours," she said.

I forced a smile, and while I repeated her phrase, I made a mental note to get in touch with D.X.--immediately.