"What?" demanded Stephen, turning back to face his former friend. "What the hell do you want?"
The tied-up prisoner shook his head. "I'm sick of this!" he answered angrily. "I'm sick of watching you make an ass of yourself! You have no idea, do you? You have no idea what you've become!"
"Oh, yes, I assure you, I know exactly what I am," said Stephen. "I'm exactly what you made me, Howard."
"Don't lay the guilt trip on me!" Howard looked quite angry, more so than Stephen had ever seen him. "I'm not the one to blame. You're the one who did this to yourself, and you know what? I'm tired of watching you enjoy your little power trip. I think it's time to put an end to it."
"An end to it?" demanded Stephen. "What can you possibly do? Stare at me really hard, until I melt? Go ahead, Howard. Stare all you want."
"No, I've got something else in mind," he retorted. "Do you remember when I told you I planned ahead, Stephen? That I made sure I couldn't be collapsed by accident? That wasn't the only thing I did. You see, when I came back here, I didn't know what to expect. I had no idea what I'd find, so I had to plan for a lot of contingencies. This wasn't one of them, of course, but it's close enough."
"I'm still waiting, Howard," said Stephen angrily. "Or is this just another trick to buy Kayla time to escape? Don't worry, I'm going to find her, no matter what you do."
"I don't think so." Howard glanced momentarily behind Stephen, where he could see the miniature form of Kayla crawling out from amidst the exposed couch springs. She seemed to know that something was about to happen--exactly as he'd hoped. He continued to prattle on, watching her work her way free, buying her the time she needed, exactly as Stephen had surmised.
"You see, my old friend," Howard continued quickly, "the collapser has to be correctly tuned to work on living things. That was what made it so hard to reverse the effects. Then I realized I could do it another way--a way that worked on every creature in an area. I don't need to point the restorer at a target, Stef. All it has to do is be close by."
Stephen turned, glancing up at the top of the refrigerator, where the crystal-tipped device was still nestled safely out of reach. "I don't see what that has to do with anything," he muttered. "It's up there, and you're down here. Unless you brought someone else along with you."
"No. Not that." Howard smiled. "I didn't know what might happen to me when I got here. Who knows? I might find myself restrained or something." He chuckled at that, and then suddenly became serious again. "That's why I programmed it to respond to my voice."
"Your v...?" Stephen started, but that was as far as he got as a horrified look crossed his face. For an instant, he thought of rushing towards the device, but there simply wasn't time. He was much too far away.
"Activation protocol!" Howard called out, facing the restoration device and yelling loud enough to ensure he would be heard. "Execute area restoration program alpha. Go!"
Then there was a burst of light.
The main problem, as far as Stephen was concerned, was that at that precise moment, he was holding three miniaturized people. The flash that filled the room wrapped around those little figures, enveloping them, instantly disrupting the field of collapsed space that held them trapped at tiny size. In that brief moment, they expanded back to normal proportions, separating from each other in a sudden forceful burst.
Instantly all four people went sprawling. The effect of sudden restoration was too much for the human body to handle all at once, of course. Leonard, staggering to the ground in a stupor, landed partially across Stephen's legs, who kicked away from him violently. Nearby, the two ladies hit the carpet, rolling to a stop, gasping and struggling to recover their senses.
Stephen pushed Leonard away, hastening to his feet. There was still a chance to recover from this disaster, he thought urgently. All he had to do was get to the collapser, which he'd left on top of the television set, safely out of reach of everyone. With that in his grasp once again, he'd be able to blast everyone back to tiny size. Then he'd smash that restoration device to pieces, and everything would be exactly as it was.
Exactly as it should be.
He took one step and came to a crashing halt. His breath seemed to catch in his throat, and his entire body went cold.
He was looking into the barrel of the collapser!
"So," said Kayla Robertson with a smile, "now I finally know what it feels like to hold this thing."
When the flash of light came, Kayla was ready. She knew exactly what Howard was up to, of course. As he delivered his little speech, taking his time so she could extricate herself from underneath the couch, she figured out precisely what he planned. It would be just like him to have thought that far ahead. He always was a meticulous sort, after all.
So she climbed out from amidst the coiled springs, making sure she didn't get caught underneath the sofa when the restoration happened. That was what Howard was waiting for, after all. He couldn't exactly return everyone to normal while some of them were inside a cage, or hiding in the walls. They'd be crushed when they snapped back to full size. He had to wait until everyone was out in the open.
She had just enough time to get in place, while Stephen was distracted. She knew there would be some disorientation, but she was prepared for that. After everything she'd been through, all the torture and pain and misery brought on by being small, a little burst of growth wasn't going to stop Kayla Robertson.
The best thing of all was the priceless look on Stephen's face. She could almost feel his panic. He was literally paralyzed with fear. This was Stephen Matthews' worst nightmare come to pass--the terrible collapser, pointed squarely in his direction, by none other than the very woman he'd spent so many nights torturing! She wondered how he'd managed to avoid wetting himself.
"I think I get it now," she said slowly and deliberately, still smiling at his thunderstruck expression. "I see why you like this thing so much. So much power! I can feel it, Stephen. It's like energy running up and down my arm. All I have to do is pull this little trigger--"
"No!" he yelled in protest, holding up his hands. "Don't! Kayla, listen to me! I'm sorry about all that stuff before! I'll make it up to you, I swear!"
"Save it!" she barked. "I don't give a shit about your excuses, and don't think for a second I'm going to believe anything you say. Maybe I should make you beg. Yeah, that might work. On your knees, you sniveling, vile, worthless little piece of trash! ON YOUR KNEES!"
He complied without hesitation, dropping to the floor at once. "I'm so sorry!" he wailed pitifully. "Don't use that thing on me again! I'll do anything!"
"I'll just bet you would." She scowled, enjoying the moment, savoring this sweet victory. She could do so many things right now...and yet, she stopped herself. Instead, she began to speak, keeping her voice firm and level, staying in complete control at each and every second.
"Stephen Matthews," Kayla uttered, "you are the worst piece of scum I've ever met. There aren't any words that could describe just how horrible you are, so I'm not even going to try. I should use this thing on you, right now, and crush you under my heel like a tiny little bug. That's what I ought to do. I really should. But you know what, Stephen? That would make me no better than you. So I won't do it. I'm going to resist the power. Do you hear me, Stephen? I'm going to resist the temptation, because by all that's holy, I'm Kayla Robertson, and I can handle anything!"
With that, she spun about and flung the collapser with all her strength directly into the wall. There was no flashy explosion or blinding flare as the device came apart. That hated piece of technology, that miserable creation that was responsible for so much pain and terror, simply shattered into pieces, which clattered to the ground with no fanfare whatsoever. A few jagged chunks remained behind, embedded like afterthoughts in the dented wall, but that was it.
Kayla brushed her hands together, smiling with satisfaction. "You don't know how long I've waited to do that," she said happily.
"That was a mistake," growled Stephen, tensing as if about to spring. "I'm going to make you pay for--"
"No, you aren't."
Stephen was almost to his feet, and just about to lunge in her direction, when a fist came out of nowhere. The blow caught him by surprise, hitting him directly in the jaw below his right cheekbone. He spun partway around, staggered for an instant, slammed into the broken wall, and finally sagged to the ground in a broken heap.
"Not today, Stephen," said Leonard Oliver, rubbing his sore knuckles, grinning from ear to ear as he flashed a smile at Kayla. "You don't know how long I've waited to do that, either."
Kayla grinned at him, even as Renee rushed to Leonard's side, hugging him tightly, literally weeping with joy. They embraced, kissing each other desperately, together at last at normal size. Nearby, even as she cheered, Mary kicked a few times at Stephen's unconscious body for good measure. Even Howard Taylor, tied up and helpless in a tangle of knotted rope, managed to smile, glad this long ordeal was finally over.
Kayla looked down at him, still smiling, shaking her head from side to side. "Don't worry, Howard," she told him. "I haven't forgotten you. As soon as we cut you loose, I'm going to kick your ass from here to Sunday."
He nodded, sagging in his seat, finally allowing himself to relax. He'd kept his promise, in the end. She was back to normal, in every sense of the word, and that was all he ever wanted.
"Be my guest," he answered with a nod. "I wouldn't have it any other way."
"So all this time," said Captain Harris, his Raised Eye regarding the woman in white with awe-inspired scrutiny, "you were in his basement, living in a little miniature house, only four inches high?"
Renee giggled and nodded, causing her veil to bob up and down behind her head like a cape fluttering in the breeze. "Yep. Well, when I was home, anyway. The rest of the time, I was at the office, doing a little freelance forensics work."
Fred Harris turned to glare at Len, who looked resplendent in his crisply pressed tuxedo. "So that was how you did it!" he exclaimed. "Oh, my God, I should have known! She was right there the whole time!"
"Sorry, Captain," said Len, grinning so much his face almost hurt. By mutual agreement, they hadn't revealed the details of Renee's disappearance until after the wedding. "I couldn't very well tell you about my secret weapon, now could I? Besides, if anyone else found out, you'd all want to borrow her for yourselves. No, she was all mine!"
Renee poked at him. "That's my Len! Such a selfish brute!"
He drew her close, kissing her gently on the lips. "You know you loved it. You think I could get Howard to loan me that other collapser of his, just for a little while? Something to make our honeymoon a bit more memorable?"
"Not a chance!" Renee replied with a laugh. "I see how it is! We're married for ten minutes and already you think I'm your pet again! Not any more, mister!"
"Yeah," chuckled Fred, drawing on his own experience of twenty-plus years of wedded bliss, "she's the boss now, Len! You're the pet from now on, not her. Don't worry, you'll see what I mean, and it's not so bad. Not really."
Len hugged his new wife close. "I think I can live with that," he admitted. "After all, after what went on these last few months, it's only fair."
They embraced again, and Fred Harris just rolled his eyes, taking the opportunity to slip off into the crowd. The reception wasn't particularly large, but there were plenty of well-wishers there, waiting to congratulate the new couple. A surprising number, in fact, considering the wedding happened so quickly. There was no reason to wait, though. They both agreed on that. If their relationship had been in any way normal, they would've been married long before this.
Mary Blaisdale was there, waiting patiently in the line. She was dressed in a long blue gown that made her look quite stunning. "Congratulations, you two," she said, smiling. Her sweeping golden locks were freshly cut and styled, for the first time in quite a while. "That was a lovely ceremony, wasn't it?"
"Yes, it was," agreed Renee. "Glad to see you here, Mary. I wasn't sure you'd make it."
"Yeah, well, I had to force myself. Besides, who knows, maybe I'll meet some cute guy. Weddings are supposed to be a great place to meet people, you know. Hmm, that one over there looks pretty hot."
"What, no more Vegas?" inquired Renee innocently.
"Honey!" interrupted Len. "A little tact would be nice!"
"Oh, sorry, I didn't mean anything by that! It just slipped out." Renee looked embarrassed. "It's just that--well--"
"No, don't worry about it, you're absolutely right," said Mary with a shrug. "It's okay. I'm not doing that any more. I'm going to try the dating scene, I think. Not just for fun, either. You guys have inspired me. I'm going to learn to love, even if it kills me."
"Good for you," said Renee. "Trust me, if you do find the right guy, you won't need any more of those little forays of yours. There's plenty of stuff you can do right at home, am I right, Len?"
"Stop it, you're making me blush," he replied, kissing her again.
"Ah, get a room, you two," laughed Mary. "And yes, I know exactly what you mean. I saw the police girl outfit, you know. Hmmm...I'll have to get me one of those. Did you buy it online, or--?"
"Not now," coughed Len, reddening noticeably. "Now move along, you're holding up the line! Maybe you should go strike up a conversation with that guy you were talking about before."
"Nah," Mary replied with a shrug. "Not yet, I don't think. There's still one more thing I have to do first. Then I can get on with my life."
"Why? What's stopping you?" Renee asked curiously.
"Nothing much," said Mary. "Just a demon in dire need of an exorcism."
"Matthews, Stephen," said the guard. "Step forward."
Stephen did as he was told, entering the corridor through the open bars. The gate behind him closed, and a nearby guard reached out to remove his handcuffs. With the pull of another lever, the first guard opened the next set of bars, and Stephen walked ahead, into the open corridor.
"What is it?" he asked his escort curiously. "What's going on?"
"You got a visitor," said the heavily armed man at his side. "I don't really get why you deserve one, being so new and all, but the order's pretty clear. Someone's got some friends in high places, I guess, so it's your lucky day. You got yourself a conjugal visit, Matthews. Step into the room, please."
Stephen raised his eyebrows. Conjugal visit? He'd only been in the prison for a week, and security here was top-notch. What did he ever do to earn such a privilege? And who would be visiting him for that reason, anyway?
Then he smiled. Of course. There was only one person it could be.
He waited patiently, as the guard called out for her to approach. From the cells in the courtyard beyond, whistles and cheers erupted from the other prisoners. She stepped into the doorway a moment later, ignoring the catcalls, staring at him with a cute little frown as the door slammed shut behind her.
"Why, if it isn't my old plaything Mary Blaisdale," said Stephen. "You look extraordinarily slutty today, my dear."
He grinned. She was wearing that exact same lime-green outfit, with those sexy white thigh boots he liked so much. Those legs, as usual, seemed endless. He knew exactly what she wanted, and he would be more than happy to provide it, just as he always had before.
"Stephen," she said, and the word was like a snarl. "You're looking extraordinarily pathetic today. How's prison life treating you?"
"It's not so bad," he replied with a shrug. "Why don't you stay a while, after we're done? I know some of my new friends would just love to meet you."
"I don't think so." Mary crossed her arms, making her chest seem to rise and strain even harder at the impossibly tight top of that slinky outfit. "I'm not staying long, Stephen. You see, there's something I came to tell you. Something I had to say before I could move on with my life. I don't need you any more, you disgusting piece of shit. I'm through with you, completely. After today, you're never going to see me again."
"Oh, if only that were true, my luscious little doll," laughed the prisoner. "You know you want me. You need me. I'm the only one who understands you. You love to hate me, don't you? Come on, Mary. Attack me, like you always do. Let me punish you for being bad. That's what you like most."
"No." She shook her head. "You can't control me any more. That's what I came to say. I had to say it to your face. Now that I have, it's over. Goodbye, Stephen. Goodbye forever. Guard! Let me out. I'm through here."
The door slid open. Stephen took a step forward, frowning. What was this? She couldn't really leave! She wouldn't just show up here, dressed like that, and walk away!
"Come back, Mary!" he taunted her one last time. "You know you won't forget me! You need me, Mary! You always will!"
"No," she told him as she turned to go. "No, Stephen, I don't, and you know what? I never really did. I'll leave you with one last look. You always liked my ass, didn't you? Well, enjoy the sight one last time, Stephen. You'll never see it, or me, again. Goodbye, and good riddance."
She spun about and strode forcefully away, boots clacking loudly on the floor. Stephen stepped out into the hall and watched, eyes fixed on that swaying derriere, waiting for her to turn, waiting for her to come back. She couldn't leave, he told himself. She couldn't!
"You'll be back, Mary Blaisdale!" he yelled in unconcealed frustration. "You can't just walk away from me! You'll be back someday! You know you will!"
But he was wrong.
The day was warm and windy. Kayla Robertson stood outside the car, her recently clipped black hair fluttering in the breeze, a single suitcase resting at her feet. She was dressed in a simple blouse and knee-length skirt, plus a pair of carefully chosen russet-colored calfskin boots. She'd worn them just for Howard, knowing how much he liked that particular style of footwear. It seemed like a reasonable thing to do, seeing as he was doing her the favor of driving her to the airport this morning.
"So have you decided where you're going?" asked Howard curiously, trying very hard not to look like he was looking at the boots. "If you want to tell me, that is."
"No, I haven't," she replied. "I really don't have the slightest idea. I'm probably going to go in there, close my eyes, and randomly point at a flight on the departure window. Let fate decide, I guess."
"It just doesn't seem quite right," said Howard. "After everything you went through, you still have nowhere to go. Didn't you at least try to get a job at the bank?"
"No," she told him honestly. "I don't want to go back there, Howard. I need a fresh start, even if I have to begin at the bottom again, and work from the ground up. Besides, you remember what kind of person I was, working at National City. I let myself forget I had a soul back then, and now, I need to look at things from another perspective. Not that I didn't get plenty of practice at that, you understand."
He chuckled. "I'm glad you can joke about it," said the round-faced little man. "I certainly wouldn't be able to, if I had to suffer what you suffered. I'm so sorry, Kayla. I know I've said that before, and it really doesn't mean anything, but I'm truly sorry."
"I already forgave you like twenty times already, Howard." Kayla sighed. "What you did to me was terrible, but it was a blessing in disguise. I was a miserable example of humanity before you shrank me down. You forced me to see what I'd become. That's what I really needed, and while you could've used a bit less forceful tactics, well, you did me a favor. I guess I should thank you."
"But what Stephen did to you was--"
"Oh, shut up, Howard!" she interrupted smoothly, and though her words were harsh, her mood was quite the opposite. "I'm thanking you, already! Now knock it off before I take it back!"
He laughed for a moment, and then just as swiftly turned serious. "I wish I'd known the real Kayla Robertson before I pointed one of these things at you," he told her, tapping the brown case hanging at his side. "I think I could've learned to like that Kayla, if I'd only tried."
She smiled back at him. They had become, if not friends, then at least something close to it, in these last few days since Stephen's trial. Howard had been there, ever since the end of their ordeal, restoring all her things, helping her get back on her feet. Somehow he had money, much to her surprise, and when she needed legal help to get her bank accounts unfrozen--as they were upon her reported "death"--he somehow provided exactly what she needed. Now, with access to her funds restored, but nowhere to live, she was intent on making a fresh start. Where that would be, she had no idea as yet, but anything was better than tiny glass houses.
"You know," said Howard after a moment, "there's something I haven't told the others. Something I've been giving a lot of thought. Seeing you like this right now, so strong and determined, despite everything you went through...well, I think I've finally made my decision."
"What are you blathering about now?" Kayla asked curiously. Not so long ago, that response might've sounded harsh and bitter, but now, it seemed reassuringly normal.
"Not so long ago," explained Howard at length, "a man I used to know came to me and offered me a job. He said miniaturization technology was coming, whether I liked it or not, and if I wanted to, I could go to work for him. I wasn't sure if I should, but now, I think I will. He was right, after all. One way or another, someone's going to invent another collapser. If I could do it, so can they. When they do, they need to be able to restore things to normal size. If they can't, then more people will end up like you and the others. More people will suffer like you did. It's going to happen, Kayla. You know it will. Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Stephen Matthews is proof enough of that."
"True enough," she agreed at once. "You forget, I held that thing myself. I know what that kind of power felt like, Howard. It scared me then, and still scares me now, whenever I think about it."
"Most people wouldn't be able to resist that kind of temptation," he pointed out. "You did, though. And now, thanks to what I've seen, so can I. Who better than us, then, to go to work for a company on the verge of developing miniaturization technology?"
"Yeah, I guess that makes--" Kayla began, and just as quickly paused. "Wait, what do you mean, 'us'?"
Howard smiled. "Exactly what I said. Who better than us? You and me both, Kayla. Come with me. No one knows better than you what can happen if the wrong person gets their hand on a collapser. I'm sure there's a job just waiting for someone with your experience. If not, well, I'll have to create one just for you. Yes, I can see it now...Kayla Robertson, Department of Miniaturization Ethics. Yeah, I like the sound of that."
She frowned and shook her head. "You really think I want to go anywhere near one of those damn things?" she demanded. "After all those months as Stephen's play toy, you think I want to have anything more to do with miniaturizers?"
"No, I don't." Howard smiled. "I know you don't. But think about it, Kayla. That's what makes you so perfect for the job."
She started to protest, but then stopped in her tracks. He was right, damn him! He was absolutely right. There was no one better qualified than her. No one ever could be, as far as she was concerned.
Kayla looked down at her suitcase, then up at the door to the bustling airport. She could just refuse, of course. She could take her bag and head inside, and say goodbye to Howard Taylor forever. She could face an unknown future, with no home or job, or even the vaguest thought of where to begin. Or, she could go with him, to wherever he was headed, and get involved in helping introduce this amazing, incredible, and terrifying new technology to an unsuspecting world.
She could disappear, if she wanted. She could take the easy, lazy path. Or she could become a part of something important. Something risky and dangerous, but in the end worth doing.
There could be only one answer, of course, and they both knew it. With an air of forced inevitability, she turned around and faced him once again. "Okay, Howard," she said resignedly, shoving her suitcase back into the waiting car, "where the hell is this place, anyway?"
Howard grinned and eagerly headed for the driver's seat. She just couldn't resist a challenge, could she? No, of course not. Not the Kayla he knew, the Kayla he helped to save. He'd earned her forgiveness, in the end, and now, perhaps, in the days to come, he would at last earn her respect.
"Not too far, actually," he answered as he settled into the car, starting the engine with a quick twist of a key. "You know, Kayla, I think this is going to be the beginning of a beautiful friendship."
"After what I've seen, anything's possible," she told him, rolling her eyes at the sentiment. "Just as long as you never even think of pointing that thing at me again. You got that, mister?"
"I promise, I promise!" Howard chuckled and patted the trim device at his side. "It'll stay right here, I assure you. Oh, there is one other thing I should probably mention, just in case you hadn't thought of it already."
"What's that?" she wondered, shutting the door and locking it reflexively, never once even looking back at the airport that, as Howard drove away, swiftly began to disappear behind them. Like that rapidly receding building, her old life, too, was being left behind, and she knew she wouldn't miss it in the least.
"Well," said Howard with an evil grin, "you know, if you come with me, I'm probably going to be your boss."
"Oh, I'm not worried," she replied, green eyes flashing brightly in the morning sun. "After all, I'm Kayla Robertson, and I can handle anything!"