--Kafka's Law

Scott Chelgren
Memorial Union
University of Wisconsin--Madison
Madison, Wisconsin

"You need to let go your conscious mind. Free your thoughs, and focus on the task at hand."

I listened to the words spoken by D.X., and immediately, I knew what I had to do.

"A pitcher of the Capital Oktoberfest, please."

"Well done! Your tutelage in beer is complete. Unfortunately, the GTS work is a bit harder."

We poured a pint apiece, then settled down to our real task at hand. I found myself liking D.X. He was a bit of a rogue--but I could tell he didn't mean it. He was the way he was because he had to be--because people were depending on him.

"So what do I have to do?" I asked, quietly.

"Well, first, you have to realize that the sort of power you have can be an incredibly destructive force," he said, sipping his microbrew. "The kind of power at your disposal could make Hurricane Andrew look like light showers. It could make Hiroshima look like kids playing with firecrackers. What you are, and what you can do, could destroy the world."

"You're kidding."

"No way. You're not strong enough to do this, but imagine making Sarah a trillion miles tall. What would that do to Earth? Rip off the atmosphere in a millisecond. Pull it right towards her navel, and crush it against her skin."

I swallowed hard. "But I wouldn't do that."

"Not intentionally. But what if when you were making love to her, you pictured her immensely huge? You might find your power escaping you. That's why you need to learn control."

I thought about something. "Before I came here, I cursed a guy with a shrinking disorder...he was a rapist, so I didn't feel bad, but...could that cause a problem?" I went on to explain the curse I'd placed on Pete.

D.X. looked grim, but managed a tight smile. "He was an attempted rapist. I won't cry over him. But that's the sort of thing I'm talking about--you did that on a whim. You've got to be able to turn it on or off with volition. As for Pete...." he closed his eyes for a second. "There. I've modified your curse to make it a little bit more devilish. He deserves it. He'll drop straight to 1" now. After all, we don't want him found, do we?"

I smiled. "No. Better he get stepped on."

"Right," he said, and downed his beer. "So anyhow...on to our first excercise...."

* * *

KellyAnn Johnson
Noodles and Company
State Street
Madison, Wisconsin

"So, do you think you'll have any problems with your Physics midterm?" I asked this of Sarah, who was eating her Thai noodles with a total lack of enthusiasm.

"Nah...I've got Michaud, and he's usually pretty scattered. I'll just talk him into giving it to me again. He will. You?" I sighed. "I've got Nichols. She's a bit of a taskmaster. But I'll convince her. I'm hoping to be back by Friday anyhow."

"Then again, the world could come to an end." Teri returned with two Mountain Dews for us, and a copy of some newspaper called The Onion. "You should read this, it's pretty good," she said, dropping the paper in front of me.

"U.S. INVADES VIETNAM--Clinton: 'We Need Another Vietnam'" screamed the headline. This was obviously a joke--and a pretty good one.

"So Teri," said Sarah, "do you think it's as bad as D.X. said?"

"It's worse," said Anonymous, who was wrapping up his phone call. "I just contacted a Cadre colleague. He says they're on a war footing. I wonder what they're discussing."

* * *

V. Koschkei, Chairman of the Cadre
Anaheim, California

"In short, Mister Chairman, I say we must not panic! We have no evidence that the disappearance of Bigg and Little has anything to do with either Machina or the League. Little has been a rogue operative since day one, and Bigg--well, he ain't the sharpest knife in the drawer. I say we should see what is happening before we choose a path that leads to war!"

Eisner sat down heavily. He never wanted this--he just wanted to make money and run Disney. I sympathized, but I couldn't relieve him of his duty.

I was handed a message by a page. I arched an eyebrow, and said, "Gentlemen, there is some news. Anonymous has checked in. He says that he has not found Machina, but that he had a run-in with Veronica Ceres. She, apparently, was looking for our friend D.X. as well."

"What has he to say on the League?" asked Szalinsky.

"Not much. He says something is up, but he was too busy trying to fight off a shrinking spell to get much information." I frowned. This seemed awfully sloppy for Jon. He is usually more reliable than this....

"I fear our friend Anonymous may be compromised."

"By the League?" asked Eisner.

"No," I said. "By Machina. I think the time has come. D.X. is positioning himself. The League is positioning itself. I respect Mr. Eisner's concern, but as Chairman of this organization, I must call on you all to rally to the standard of manhood.

"I call a vote on war with the League."

The vote was 11-0, with three--Anonymous, Don Bluth, and D.X. Machina--abstaining.

We were at war.

* * *

Scott Chelgren

"I don't understand," I said. "Why are we here again?"

We were both 1/4 inch tall, standing underneath a table in the bar, which was presently occupied by a group of coeds. Each shift of a foot was an earthquake, each tap on the table a deafening thud.

"Because," said D.X., "you have to get a feel for Giantesses."

"Are you nuts?" I said, forgetting my place. "I spent months at this size! I've been trying to survive on my own for weeks at insect size. What do you mean, get a feel? I've gotten plenty of feel!"

D.X. sighed. "I know you've seen them, Scott. But focus! I'm not talking about brute survival here. I'm talking about an appreciation for what kind of power these women have, on a higher level--oh, hell and damn, close your eyes, I'll show you."

I did as my teacher said, and suddenly, I found myself sitting at a table, talking to two women I didn't know.

Actually, I wasn't talking. I was sitting in a body that was talking; I was listening, and feeling the strange sensation of being in a person I was not in control of. A hand brushed by my cheek, to move hair connected to my head out of the way. The nails were long and red. The eyes I saw through looked down, and I saw my body--nice breasts, thin waist, hips just a little bit wider than perfect--and I realized that I was seeing through the eyes of one of the women who towered above me.

Perspective is everything, Scott. To the woman in the chair, you're an irrelevancy. To you, she is enormous.

How...

A simple trick, said D.X. Or something approaching speaking. You could do it if you wanted to. It's a lot of fun on a boring Saturday night, let me tell you. But now it's time to come back.

Suddenly, my eyes opened, and I was back underneath the table, looking at a foot that had just seemed a part of me, a foot the size of a building.

"My God," I said.

"Yes," said D.X. "Yes indeed. The first part of our lesson is ended. Now, on to the next trial.

* * *

Sarah Kensington
West Towne Mall
Madison, Wisconsin

I was going through the Wisconsin paraphernalia with a modicum of disgust. After all, I'm a Minnesotan by birth and by choice of school; the Badgers were the enemy of all that was right and Maroon and Gold. But when in Rome--and when short on clothes--do as the Romans do. I bought a couple of sweatshirts, and pondered what strange rituals Scott was having to go through.

It was very strange. I was used to having the power in our relationship, but now Scott had more power than anyone I knew--including D.X. He could shrink and grow at will, he could shrink or grow me at will. I wondered what would become of our relationship.

I laughed at myself; this could be great. Scott could be a full-sized person who could nevertheless be tiny at the most opportune times. This morning had been great--the type of reunion I'd hoped for.

But I knew that I was going to have to get used to being the one in the submissive role--no, that wasn't true. Scott would never, never force me to do anything; I had known that since I met him, since I told him he wouldn't hurt me if he was seven feet tall. And I believed that firmly.

But though he wouldn't be the one in charge, neither would I. We were equals now, and I found that daunting.

* * *

Scott Chelgren
Elizabeth Waters Hall
University of Wisconsin--Madison
Madison, Wisconsin

"I tell you, Scott, the best year of my life was spent in this very dorm." D.X. was walking with me through a generic-looking dorm, a fair ways from the Union we'd just visited. Then again, the pleasant walk along the lake was nice--much nicer than any scenery the U of M had to offer. Maybe if they hadn't put Coffman Union right on the River--

But I digress. We walked into Elizabeth Waters Hall, and I knew immediately that our presence would be noticed--after all, it was obviously an all-women's dorm.

"Don't worry," said D.X., smiling widely. "Everyone who looks at us is seeing two average-looking girls. A simple bit of misdirection--same as Stuart Little uses when he's full-sized. An easy trick--but that's not why we're here."

We walked to a dorm room, and D.X. stopped. He turned white for a second, and then composed himself. He closed his eyes, and said:

"This room is a nexus of GTS power. It was created by an unfortunate woman who came across secrets she could not bear. You must face the nexus."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Shrink down to 1/8 inch, and walk under the door. There may be people in the room, or maybe not. Either way, turn immediately to your right, and start walking. You will come upon the presence."

I started to question, but he said, "I will be out here, waiting. Go."

Swallowing, I reduced my height and walked under the door, into a nondescript dorm room. I turned right, and saw a titaness sitting at a desk in the distance, listening to earphones and reading. I ignored her, and crept forward.

Suddenly, the world distorted and stretched, until it was unrecognizable. Then, everything became dark.

The sky parted and brilliant white light flooded my eyes. "SO," boomed a voice, "WE'VE CAPTURED ANOTHER ONE, EH, LITTLE ONE?"

I was dropped roughly onto a plain, and looked up to see a man, about my age, looking at me with pity.

It was D.X. Younger, but obvously him.

"Liz," he said, "I don't think you want to harm this one. He's not like the others, he's like me."

"NONSENSE. HE'S EXACTLY LIKE THE OTHERS. YOU SAID YOURSELF THE ONLY PUNISHMENT A RAPIST DESERVES IS DEATH."

I looked up at the woman. She was achingly beautiful, with red hair and green eyes and an almost demonic look about her. I knew that I had a great deal to fear.

"I'm not a rapist! I hate rapists! I cursed one just yesterday!"

"LIAR!" she shouted, and brought her hand upon me.

I felt it all in slow motion, her palm striking me, crushing me into paste, liquifying my body in one fell swoop.

I gasped, breathing the air of the room. I saw the girl from earlier starting to rise. I took the opportunity to leave.

* * *

"What did you see?" asked D.X., as I returned to my normal size.

"I saw a red-haired girl, and you. The girl crushed me to death."

He was very, very quiet. Then, finally, he said, "She is a warning to you, and to me. She is the embodiment of what can go wrong with GTS. She was a good soul. The GTS destroyed her."

"Did you really know her?" I asked.

He smiled, sadly. "I had to kill her in the end. To save all of humanity, I had to destroy her. That is the lesson of this, Scott, that the price to achieve what we want is awfully fucking high.

"You have learned much today, my young apprentice. Let's get a drink."

* * *

D.X. Machina
The Living Room
Madison, Wisconsin

I nursed my scotch, and tried not to think about the events of the day.

Scott had come far, and he would progress farther; he was rash, but he was only 22; he had time to learn. And while he lacked full control of his powers, it wasn't limits I required of him.

I looked at Theresa. She was so beautiful. I was fortunate for having known her at all, lucky beyond belief that she should love me. And yet, that night, I felt an aching all too familiar.

I closed my eyes. I could not give Liz her due. Not yet.

Tomorrow, we were on to New York. And what awaited us there was more horrific than anything I could've imagined.