Zeck pulled his hovercar up to the entrance to the gated community. They were the biggest gates he had ever seen -- not surprising, considering what was on the other side. The over-arching sign said,, “Welcome to Yoder.”
Zeck wasn’t sure why or how he had gotten this assignment. It was important, to be sure, but that was part of the issue. Zeck’s job as an online reporter meant he covered a variety of stories, but they were mainly of local interest. This was an international level story, and he wasn’t one of the reporters who would usually even be considered for such an assignment. Still, he wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth.
Following the signs at the entrance, Zeck pulled his hovercar up the track for “standards,” giant slang for standard-sized people.
Just inside the gate was a man who looked to stand a bit under 60 meters tall. Like the photos Zeck had seen of the men of the giant communities, he was very muscular and fit. None of the women appeared to be near the entrance. From what Zeck knew, that was typical. The women were so much bigger than the men, and so colossal in comparison to standards, that the possibilities of a standard getting hurt due to a giantess’ unwitting act was very real. There were specific areas in the communities where standards could go, and giantesses typically kept a safe distance from them.
“Hello, sir,” the giant said. “Can I ask your name and business here?”
“I’m Zeck Runyan,” Zeck said. “I’m a reporter, here to do an interview --”
The giant was suddenly smiling. “Oh! Yes! You’re the reporter who’s here to interview Wes about Sarah’s birthday!”
Zeck nodded. “That’s right. After all, she is turning 250 this week, and she certainly has had and is having an impact on the world -- or, at least, the Western Hemisphere.”
The giant looked over his shoulder. “Hey, Mordy, take over here, will you? Wes’ special guest is here.”
“Sure,” Mordy said.
“Float your car onto my hand,” the first giant said. “I’ll take you to Wes and Sarah’s house.”
Once Zeck had gotten the car onto the giant’s hand, the giant looked back to Mordy. “I’ll be back in a bit,” he said.
With the car resting on the giant’s hand, he exited the building into the giant community. “You’re allowed to start shooting video any time you want,” the giant said.
“This is really nice of you,” Zeck said.
“Not a problem,” the giant said. “I’m Morgan Walker, by the way. I’m Wes and Sarah’s great-grandson-in-law -- one of many in that category.”
“Big family, huh?” Zeck said.
“Well, remember, our gestation period is about the same as standards’, but we live a lot longer and stay fertile for centuries. And, while most of our women limit how many children they have, Sarah still approaches that like the Amish woman she used to be. She just keeps popping them out, and her kids have tended to follow suit -- and her grandkids, and their kids and grandkids, and so on.”
“My gosh,” Zeck said, remembering that, in the Bellist religion of many of the giants, invoking the name of God in vain was a no-no. “They must have hundreds of descendants.”
“Thousands,” Morgan said. “Nearly half of all us giants are related to Wes and Sarah, either by birth or marriage. Frankly, I suspect a few may claim a false lineage. They are the most prestigious of us by far, although you’d never know it if you hang around them. I’m thrilled to be part of their family. They’re about as ‘regular people’ as you get.”
“I can believe that,” Zeck said. “I read Wesley’s autobiography -- or the parts they’d let us read -- when I was in school. The whole thing came later, when I could handle some of the sexual stuff. He and Sarah both seemed like just … people who had something extraordinary happen, and coped with it as best they could.”
Morgan nodded. “Yeah, what you see is what you get with them,” he said. “You’re lucky, you know. Sarah hates interviews and discourages Wes from giving them. She doesn’t like being the center of attention, even though that’s the role she was chosen for. ‘Her cross to bear,’ she calls it.”
“Yeah, I’m curious,” Zeck said. “How come I was chosen out of all the reporters out there?”
“Someone in the family liked your work, and showed it to Wes,” Morgan said. “You know he used to be in your profession, and your work impressed him, too. The two of them were able to convince Sarah, especially since they knew someone would insist on this story being done.”
Zeck nodded. He looked around him. He saw male giants, standing between 30 and 70 meters tall, and women, towering 70 to an astonishing 180 meters high, working in yards or on houses or sipping lemonade and sharing the glass, big enough to be a small reservoir for standards. A few were walking or riding colossal bicycles. Many waved to Morgan, who waved back with his free hand.
One giant yelled, “Hey, Morgan! Is that the reporter?”
“Yah,” Morgan said. “Seems a nice guy.”
“Tell Sarah and Wes I said ‘Howdy,’” the giant said.
“Will do, Eli,” Morgan said.
Zeck marveled at the women. Like the men, all were very fit, but the women also all had proportionally huge breasts. For the most part, they were well covered, but both the men and the women tended to show a v-neck section of chest on the simple linen jumpsuits most wore.
“Your women are everything I’ve heard they are,” Zeck said.
“Thank you,” Morgan said. “I think so, especially about my wife -- but I am a bit biased.”
Zeck smiled broadly. “As you should be,” he said.
“There’s the Bell homestead,” he said. “I’ll stop in long enough to drop you off and say. ‘Howdy,’ then head back to the gate. In case I don’t get a chance to say it later, I’m glad to get to meet you, Mr. Runyan.”
“I’m Zeck, and I’m glad to make your acquaintance, too, Mr. Walker.”
“Call me Morgan.” He knocked on the door of the Bells’ house. Like most in Yoder, it was a dome made of an artificial stone Zeck had seen in use in the standard world.
Someone Zeck immediately recognized as Wesley Bell answered the door. “Morgan!” Wes said. “Howdy! How are you?”
“Well, Wes. Howdy to you, too. Eli Tork said ‘Howdy,’ too,” Morgan said. “Here’s Mr. Runyan.”
“Call me Zeck, please.”
“Nice to meet you, Zeck. And, as fellow reporter, call me Wes,”
“Yes , sir,” Zeck said.
“I’ve got to get back to work at the greeter gate,” Morgan said. “Take care, Zeck. Glad to meet you.”
“It’s been my pleasure,” Zeck said.
Wes carried Zeck, car and all, into the small parlor of the Spartan home. “OK, before you start ‘grilling’ me with questions, I have one for you,” Wes said. “Is ‘Zeck’ some sort of new name out there?”
Zeck chuckled. “No, it’s actually very old. It’s short for Zechariah. I just spell it with a ‘k’ to keep people from pronouncing it ‘Zetch.’”
“That makes sense,” Wes said. He plopped down in a comfy-looking chair, carefully placing Zeck’s car on the table beside it. “So, what would you like to know?”
Zeck chuckled. “So, what’s it like being the weaker sex?”
Wes laughed a hearty laugh. “You know, I’ve been the physically weaker in my relationship from the day I met Sarah, so I guess I’m used to it. But Sarah and I are more equals. We just each recognize our strengths and weaknesses and try to work together with them. Most of our people try to work that way.”
“But the women here do the physical work, and the men do other tasks,” Wes said.
“Well, that’s how it works out in most cases, in a practical sense,” Wes said. “But we don’t really have assigned gender roles, and there are very few tasks our women can do that our men can’t. We’re not exactly weaklings, you know.”
Zeck chuckled again. “So, how do you deal with basic necessities -- food, water, clothes, shelter?”
“One of the descendants is going to give you a tour in a little while to show you some of those answers,” Wes said. “For clothes, we have teams of seamsters whose job is to sew clothes, and we came up with this artificial stone that you standards now use for a lot of your buildings, too. It’s a subtance that lets us go as big as we need to for our structures.”
“I couldn’t help but notice that there are men taller than you, and women taller than you described Sarah as being in your autobiography,” Zeck said. “But you two were the tallest, at least until your daughter, Faith, was born.”
“You do realize that was written more than 220 years ago,” Wes said. “Each proceeding generation has been a little bit taller than the last -- and the most recent one to reach adulthood has one member a lot taller.”
Zeck heard the sound of a back door opening and closing.
“That’ll be Sarah,” Wes said. “She still likes to cook sometimes -- her domestic streak from her Amish upbringing -- and she wanted to make something today when she found out you were coming.” Wes titled his head in the direction of the door noise. “Sarah!” he said. “Zeck Runyan is here.”
Zeck stared up at the 105-meter-plus giantess. She was as curvaceous and beautiful as Wesley’s memoir had described, and srill looked to be around 18-20 years old.
“Mr. Runyan, it’s pleasure,” Sarah whispered, leaning down toward the reporter. Zeck knew she had to whisper. Her full voice could deafen him, and maybe even do him broader physical harm.
Zeck patted his hand to his chest. “The pleasure’s mine, ma’am” he said.
Sarah stood back up. “I’ll make some lemonade,” she whispered. Looking at Wes, she added, “I can already see why Marigold likes him. He reminds me of you.”
Wes beamed up at his wife. “You want any help, dear?”
“No, I’ll be fine,” she said. “You do your interview, my love.”
Wes nodded, then looked at Zeck. “You look troubled,” the giant said. “Is something wrong?”
Zeck took a deep breath. “Well, sir, it’s just that I can’t help but notice that you look like you’re in your late twenties or early thirties, while Sarah still looks about 20 at most. But I remember from you memoir that you and she were pretty close to the same age back in the day. Is that right?”
A wistful look crossed Wesley’s enormous face. “Yes, that’s right,” he said.
“So, um, what happened?” Zeck asked.
“Well, if you remember, the reason for our slowed aging is that our metabolisms are slower due to our size,” Wes said. “But the women are so much bigger than the men that their metabolisms are slower even than ours. I’ll live, maybe, a millennium or two. Sarah could live 10 or more times that.”
“That must be awful, to know you’ll live such a short life compared to her,” Zeck said. “To know you’ll grow old and frail while she remains young and vital.”
“Well, if you view it that way, I could see how you’d feel that way,” Wes said. “But the way I see it, Sarah and I have been given an incredible gift to have so many centuries together as we’ll have, to have seen so much and been able to do so much, for both our people and everyone in the world. Actually, I know it may sound corny, but I thank God every day for the gift of this extended life and what he’s allowed me to do with it, and the people I love to do with theirs.”
“Speaking of God,” Zeck said. “How does it feel to have a religion named for you?”
Wes winced. “Bellism isn’t a religion,” he said. “It’s a denomination of Christianity, combining elements of Protestantism, the Amish faith and some things unique to our giant culture. And it’s named for Sarah, not me. She just insisted that they use the name Bell, not her maiden name of Yoder. We could name this town -- the first of our giant settlements -- Yoder, but not the denomination. Go figure.,”
“Am I remembering right that there are 11 giant communities now?”
Wes nodded. “Yep. Seven in the United States -- all in the western states, but not the west coast -- three in Canada’s northwest and one in Mexico.”
“None overseas?” Zeck asked.
“It’s hard for us to move over oceans,” Wes said. “Ships can’t really handle us, and we just haven’t had much reason to pursue such trips to date.”
Suddenly there was a loud pounding on the roof of the house, making the entire structure shake. Zeck dropped to the floor of his car in terror, sure from the terrible sound that the ceiling was about to cave in and crush him.
Giantess World
