I remember the day it all started, at least for me. It was a Saturday and I was taking the bus across town, although I don't remember exactly why. My car was already gone, of course, because by then most of the manufacturing plants had shut down, so there weren't any more parts to be had. Buses and trains were the only ways to get around, and had been for almost a year now.
I missed my car. I missed a lot of things, but then, life goes on, or at least that's what everyone always said. And times change, along with a lot of other stuff. Whatever.
My name, by the way, is Natalie Patterson. Back then, I was five foot ten and blonde, but times aren't the only things that change, are they? The dark hair I have now is my natural color, and I haven't been able to do anything about my hairstyle for a while, so of course it looks awful.
In fact, come to think of it, that's what I'd been out doing that day. I was riding the bus home from getting my hair styled. Not a lot of people were bothering with such things anymore, opting instead for quick and dirty cuts at a barber shop, but call me old-fashioned. I liked my hair done up professionally, and since I got extra ration cards where I worked, I could afford it. Businesses didn't take money anymore, of course--rations were the only thing anybody traded. All the farms were taken over by the government when martial law was declared, so if you wanted food, you worked for your cards. That's how things were. You either followed the rules, or you went hungry. Simple as that.
Honestly, I really can't think of any better way they could've done it. Things were steadily getting worse. Just a few days before, in fact, we hit the big five-oh. I remember the announcement clearly, coming over the late night news, just before I went to bed. "Today, according to the latest figures, over fifty percent of the population has reached Stage One or greater." That's what they said, word for word. I can still hear it, rattling around in my mind.
There was no stopping it, was there? I suppose I should've accepted it by now, like most everyone else, but it really hit me then, sitting there on the bus, running my fingers through my freshly cut and colored hair. A few little slivers of faux blonde fell out and stuck to my jacket, and I brushed them off absently as the little woman climbed aboard the bus.
I looked up reflexively as the doors opened, and at first nobody seemed to step inside. Then I saw her, struggling to climb up the last step. She was about my age, dressed in a simple jumpsuit and sandals, just a bit under two feet high. Getting into the bus was clearly quite a challenge, but she persevered, smiling gamely as she made her way down the aisle. She didn't meet any of the stares of the other passengers, choosing an unoccupied seat without a word. Clambering up into it, she settled down cross-legged and caught her breath over the course of several minutes. Clearly, just walking around and getting on a bus was something of an effort, as might be expected, I suppose.
Stage One, I thought to myself. One-third normal size. And as of a few days ago, over half the population was like that. Or even smaller. Twenty percent were at Stage Two, the size of dolls...and then there was Stage Three.
Real-life Tom Thumbs and Thumbelinas. That's what we were turning into. All of us. Just slowly, one at a time, here and there across the world.
And nobody knew why.
I can still remember when, many years before, the news talked about the first person to shrink. It was an ordinary day, just like any other, and I didn't pay much attention, except I think I remember imagining it was some kind of joke or hoax. Some guy in Arizona woke up two feet tall, they said. The media had a field day with it, and jokes were everywhere. They never released the poor man's name, probably wisely, because otherwise he would've been the laughing stock of the nation.
Well, for a few hours, anyway, until the reports started coming in from all over the world. A woman in China, two people in Russia, two more in India, one in Malaysia, Brazil, Canada...they flooded in after that. Whatever this was, it was happening everywhere.
Nobody could really say that one guy was truly the first, you know. Apparently the Chinese woman was in some remote area and probably shrank before he did, maybe by a few hours. We'll never know for sure, and it doesn't really matter anyway. They were one-third normal size, that's what was important. They were, as we now call it, Stage One.
They didn't know about Stage Two for months after that, when the first person went through the change. Her name was Elana Constance, and she was a fifty-year-old grandmother in London. I remember that clearly because she seemed like such a kind, nice person in the interviews. Someone who didn't deserve what had happened to her, any more than the several million people at Stage One deserved to be where they were, trying to make sense of it all, and somehow make do with their condition.
A year later, they found out about Stage Three. But you get the idea.
That was over a decade ago. So far, there was no Stage Four, thank God. I guess four inches high is small enough, huh?
The most disturbing part was how nobody could figure out how or why it was happening. Everyone had their own theories, of course. Drugs, germs, aliens, God's will, terrorist attacks, ancient curses, space warps, you name it, it'd all been suggested somewhere. The only thing anyone knew for sure was that we didn't know what was causing it. The plain truth was, it could hit anyone, at any time, regardless of age, race, or gender. Patients on the operating table had gone Stage One right in the middle of a procedure. Pregnant women could find their unborn babies shrinking in their womb--or vice versa, and you can imagine how messy that might be, if there wasn't a doctor around. There didn't seem to be any rhyme or reason, no pattern to who got chosen. You'd be fine one day and one-third normal size the next.
People tried to figure it out, of course. The rich ones, like Bill Gates and Solomon Grier, and all those other philanthropists, they threw their money around like it was going out of style, which of course it was. The sheiks and mobsters and tycoons weren't any safer just because of their wealth, so they tried to buy their way out, but money didn't matter any more. The stock market crashed and most of them went belly-up anyway, and it was left to the surviving governments to try to pick up the pieces.
For a while, there was panic. People just sort of went crazy. There are still whole sections of Washington D.C. that are nothing but burnt-out rubble, relics of battles between rioters and the National Guard. The President--Clayton, I mean, before he went Stage One and handed over the reins to his veep, Davies--called for martial law, and it never really lifted after that.
It's funny, the things you do when you don't really know if you're going to be the same person tomorrow. Your whole outlook on life changes. You start to notice things, and try to hold on to memories of the way things are, because the next time you see them it might be from an entirely different perspective. I was sitting there on the bus, looking at this Stage One woman in her toddler's outfit. She was too short to even see out the windows, and all I could think was, that could be me. That WILL be me, one day, and there's nothing I can do about it.
She glanced around wearily, and her eyes met mine, and for a moment I saw something there--something like hopelessness, or maybe just resignation--and I quickly looked away. There was no reason to pretend like I hadn't made eye contact, because we both knew I had, but I played dumb anyhow. I stared out the window for a while and tried to focus on the storefronts passing by. Some of the businesses on the corners were still open, but not many. Most of the places were closed and boarded up. Soon, maybe months or a couple of years, enough of those business owners would hit Stage One and have to close their doors. Some might try to carry on, if they could, despite their new size, but eventually they'd go Stage Two, and then they'd have to go away for good.
The government was pretty efficient about that, I have to admit. The process of transitioning (as we referred to "shrinking" in polite conversation) was slow and methodical, so they had plenty of time to come up with a plan for what to do once the population was finished with the change. At various locations around the country, in secluded areas relatively safe from the threats posed by weather and other natural dangers, miniature cities were being constructed, or in a few cases were already finished. Some were already occupied by those who had gone Stage Three. Nobody knew exactly where these mini-towns were, though. After all, when you're four inches tall, you don't want monstrous giants stomping about your city. There are plenty of movie references I could point to that illustrate that particular point, but I don't think I really have to, now do I?
I tried to imagine, during that long bus ride home, what was going to happen to D.C. once we were all gone. The city would still be here, of course, but it would be empty, because they weren't relocating any Stage Threes to already existing places. Too dangerous, they said, and they were probably right. So D.C. would be deserted, and nature would reclaim it eventually. They say there used to be a swamp here, and perhaps eventually there would be again. Maybe one day, our descendants, the size of mice, will stumble upon the colossal remnants of the Washington Monument poking up through the trees, and wonder what long-dead race of giants might have built such a structure, and why.
For some reason I found that funny, and at least it brought a smile to my face for the first time that day. The bus came to my stop and I exited, glancing one last time at the little woman on the seat as I left. She looked up at me and flashed a smile, and all at once I felt much better. Here was someone reduced to one-third her size, forced to move around in a world where nothing fit, and yet rather than hide in her home like so many others, or move into a government-provided facility, she tried to live her life like she used to. Where she was going on that particular day, or why she was out and about, I didn't know, but the fact that she was outside, on the bus, traveling with the rest of us, made me think perhaps having that happen to me wouldn't be quite so bad.
I made my way down the street towards my apartment, somewhat buoyed by that chance encounter, and looked around to take in my surroundings. This was a fairly narrow road, with apartment buildings lining both sides, yet some city planner somewhere had decided it was important to plant trees at regular intervals. They rose out of circular rings along the curbs, spreading their branches overhead, carefully trimmed so the buses wouldn't hit them as they passed. Once, there were cars moving up and down this road in vast numbers, but the only thing left to remind me of this was the occasional oil stain on the battered tarmac. Here and there, grass and other plants were already starting to poke their way through the cracks.
I shut my eyes momentarily and could almost picture the scene from years ago, with the rushing vehicles, the noisy honking, and the scent of exhaust thick in the air. But the lonely wind blew along the lane, and the hairs on my neck stood up, for they were no longer covered by the long blonde locks I'd just had cut off at the stylist's. A bird twittered overhead, and a dog barked somewhere, and a happy couple walked past arm in arm, paying me no attention whatsoever. The world was less crowded now, that's for sure, I told myself, and perhaps that was for the better.
Everyone has their own theories about what was causing us humans to shrink. Since it only affected Homo sapiens, and not other animals or even monkeys, that suggested either a bacteria or virus of some kind, perhaps genetically tailored to our specific species. Since the transitioning process had been studied carefully and followed a definite pattern, that's what the scientists tended to believe. The religions types said it was God punishing us, and the nutballs thought it was an alien invasion. Me, well, I liked to imagine maybe nature itself was getting even somehow. We were destroying the world, slowly but surely, before this all started. That was going to be a lot harder to do once every human on Earth was four inches tall, now wouldn't it?
I hesitated at my front door and shut my eyes again, trying once more to picture the city reclaimed by nature. This time, though, I saw instead a much smaller city, populated by tiny people, myself included. Despite its size, the town was still just like the one we were in now, except maybe a little bit more efficiently constructed. That's when I came to a realization I hadn't considered before. We weren't going anywhere, were we? Even reduced in size, we'd still be human, with all our accumulated knowledge and all our technology, as best as it could be miniaturized to our new proportions. If nature wanted to get rid of us, this wasn't the way. We humans are a tenacious lot, you see.
So was I, I reminded myself. That's right, Natalie, you're tough, and you always have been. If this happens to you, you'll be like that woman on the bus. You'll keep right on living your life. You can adjust and adapt. You'll have to.
I nodded conclusively to myself, turned the key, and stepped into my apartment, leaving the open street behind. I could tell myself all those great motivational things, I knew, but that wouldn't really matter when the change finally came. I wanted to think I could be strong and tenacious and survive it, no matter what it took. Would I, though? I had no way to tell until it really happened, and the longer that day waited to arrive, the better.
I turned and started to put my keys away in my purse, but somehow missed. The clattering as they hit the floor made me jump. When I reached down to my feet, I felt momentarily dizzy, but the feeling passed quickly. Just a little hunger coming on, I told myself, forcing away my worries about the change, starting to think about what I might want for dinner. My boyfriend Steven was coming over, after all, and he promised to take me out, so I occupied myself thinking about which restaurant I wanted to go to, even as I headed for the shower.
You know that tenacity I was talking about? Yeah, well, I didn't know it then, but I was going to need some pretty impressive inner strength real soon.
Steven showed up about an hour later, about as close to on time as anyone could expect with the way the buses worked nowadays. He looked great, as usual, wearing a button-down shirt, khaki slacks that were just on the barest edge of tightness, and black dress shoes he probably shined himself. That's the sort of guy he was, always taking care of the little details.
I met Dr. Steven J. Beck, PhD when the committee I was working for took a tour of his research facility, the Henderson Science Center. This was one of the hundreds of private firms on the East Coast that dropped everything it was working on to focus on solving the shrinking mystery. I think beforehand it was looking into teleportation or some crazy thing, because I remember Steven mentioning that at some point, but all of that stuff got shelved years ago.
Anyway, you see, the group I work for, the Joint Transition Research Analysis Committee (or JTRAC--those government types are always using acronyms like that), was responsible for keeping research information flowing between these hundreds of little companies that all hoped they'll be the first ones to come up with the Solution. That's what always made America great, after all--that spirit of competition that drove us onward and upward, if you'll forgive the phrasing. Never mind that whoever figures out the secret will have the patent and, once the economy stabilizes again, all that money to themselves.
So yeah, my committee was supposed to rein all that in as best we could, so everybody shared the information they had, and companies weren't wasting time barking up the same trees as the others had already. Of course, there's only so much we could do, but we did what we could, when and where we could, and that's all anyone was really asking of us in the first place.
Anyway, I was out at Henderson one day about two weeks before, and that's where I met Steven, one of the lead scientists at the site. I thought he was cute, with that efficiently short black hair of his, and square jaw, and a handsome little cleft in his chin when he smiled. He didn't seem all that old for someone in that kind of position of authority, but I was pretty sure he was way out of my league, until he stopped me as I was about to climb on the bus and asked me out.
At first I wasn't sure what to say, because he kind of surprised me, but he said something that made a lot of sense: "None of us really know what's going to happen tomorrow, and I'm going to make sure I don't miss a minute of the time I have left. So won't you come to dinner with me tonight?" Sounds hokey now, I know, but at the time I was feeling depressed, because the HSC people basically told the Committee they hadn't made any progress at all in finding the Solution, and the outlook was as bleak as ever. So I figured what the hell, and we grabbed a bite to eat, and plenty more after that, well on into the night. Honestly it was the best thing that could've happened to me at the time.
I figured the next day, after he got up and left on the first morning bus, that he'd never bother calling again, but to my surprise he did. After that, we spent the next couple of weeks getting to know each other much better. He's really quite an amazing guy. Yeah, he was almost ten years older than me, at 38, but he wasn't the stuffy intellectual type you'd think someone in his position would be. He was fond of telling me he wasn't even really that much of a scientist anymore, mostly just a manager, and only got his current position because a couple people over him went Stage Two and had to retire.
There were actually quite a few people at the facility who were Stage One already, but that only made them more motivated to work harder, or so Steven explained. He didn't like being called Steve, by the way, although that didn't stop him from calling me whatever nickname he picked for me on any given day. Not that I minded too much--that was just another thing to tease him about, as far as I was concerned.
So anyway, enough reminiscing. That night, he took me out to dinner, to a little seafood place about six blocks away. We walked, rather than take the bus, seeing as it was warm enough now that springtime was finally here. He was buying, which was fine with me, since seafood was getting harder to find now that there wasn't very much in the way of fishing outside the government farms up and down the coast. That meant it was going to cost a lot of ration cards, outside even my own generous budget, but Steven didn't seem to mind. I didn't know precisely how much he made, seeing as I was too polite to ask and he was too polite to brag, but it had to be a lot more than I did.
After we got seated, we exchanged small talk about various things, the usual sorts of daily goings-on that seem so pointless now. We generally didn't talk about work too terribly much, primarily because I was on the committee that oversaw what the HSC and its competitors were doing, which tended to make one or the other of us (or both) uncomfortable when the subject came up. On this particular night, though, during a lull in the conversation, I couldn't resist.
"So tell me, Steven," I asked with a playful smile, "you guys find the Solution yet, or what?"
(That's how we referred to it, by the way. The shrinking effect wasn't a disease or plague, as far as we knew; it was a problem--or rather, "the Problem," with a capital P. So when people talked about fixing it, they didn't really think about it as looking for a cure, we were after the Solution to the Problem, or just "the Solution.")
He chuckled, sipping on his wine. "Now, Nattie," seeing as that was my pet name for the day, "you know I'd tell you if we had any progress. Sadly, nothing new. Dr. Kleinmann keeps saying he thinks he's close, but to what, nobody really knows. He can be so secretive sometimes, but that's how he's always been, as long as I've known him. Anyway, a couple of the other departments are saying they have some new ideas they're exploring, but they're pretty long shots, I think."
I nodded and took a bite of my boiled salmon, which was excellent, I might add. This was actually more than Steven usually had to say about work, so I took the opportunity to dig a little further. "Oh?" I inquired innocently. "Well, you know, long shots are probably all we have at this point. What sort of weirdness are they thinking of this time?"
He shook his head and looked down at his plate, and I knew I'd gone too far. "Nothing you'd be interested in," he replied, which was his usual escape phrase when he didn't want to talk about something. Then he looked back up and into my eyes, causing me to shiver with the intensity of that look. Steven's eyes are gray and they have this way of boring right into my soul, like he's dissecting my brain with that baleful stare of his.
"You know," he said after a moment, "before I met you, I used to have to force myself to get out of bed and go to work every morning. Every day was just so hopeless, with no progress, nothing new to report, just endless failure after failure. I thought it was bad when I was just a normal scientist, but the last couple of promotions really put me into a position to see just how hopeless everything really is. No progress anywhere, ever...it was really a battle just to face another day of that.
"You helped me a lot, Nattie." He smiled at me, and I shivered again, because suddenly this conversation had taken an abrupt turn and was heading into uncharted waters. "You helped me get through that. I really intended to just have a one night stand, you know. I was going to throw away your number. I just couldn't, though. I kept thinking about you. How beautiful you were, and how happy I was with you that first night. Now it seems like thinking about you is all I ever do."
He paused for a moment, swallowing hard, as if summoning up his courage. Then, he finally pressed on. "Nattie," he almost whispered, "I think I love you."
Before I could reply, which was really impossible anyway because I was pretty much shell-shocked, he laughed to himself and smiled again. "There, I said it!" he exclaimed giddily. "That wasn't so hard. I love you. Yeah. That feels pretty good. God, why didn't I say it before? I love you, Natalie. I love you!"
"Oh, Steven!" I managed to gasp. I hadn't expected this, not at all. We were in a relationship, of course, but it was supposed to just be a lark. The few times he'd said anything about it in the past, it seemed pretty clear there weren't going to be any commitments. After all, either of us could go Stage One at any moment and then everything would change.
He took another sip of his wine, and it was then that I noticed he'd barely touched his meal. He must've been thinking about this for a while, working himself up to that great admission he just made. "It wasn't supposed to be this way," he continued slowly. "We were just having fun. A fling, that's all it was, just someone else to hold onto while we waited for the transition. I didn't intend to...to fall in love with you. But I have."
I nodded, not really able to reply.
"I can understand if you don't feel the same way," he went on, looking away from me now, down at the fish growing colder on his plate. "I don't want to force you into anything. If you want me to leave, I will. I know this isn't what you signed up for."
I made him sit there in silence for a few seconds. This wasn't a subject I was really ready to tackle. In fact, I hadn't really allowed myself to examine my feelings for Steven at all since our relationship started. On the nights we saw each other, which was most of them, what we had was mostly physical. I'm not one to kiss and tell, so let's just say I usually got a pretty damn good workout, and leave it at that, shall we? The rest of the time, though, when we weren't together, I thought about him a lot. Usually about what we were going to do the next time we hooked up.
Yet that wasn't all. I genuinely liked Dr. Steven Beck, PhD, and I liked him a lot. He was fun to be around, and always a gentleman, thinking of me before himself. Just like now, in fact. He was giving me a chance to back out, if I wanted to, and I knew he was serious, and would really let me go, even if he did love me, just because I asked him to.
Maybe that was why I said what I did. I don't know. I hadn't really thought of myself as loving him; I hadn't really ever intended to, or even wondered about it, before that moment. Maybe I just didn't want to, or was afraid to, because of what was going on in the world, but whatever the reason, I no longer had any other option.
"Steven," I replied honestly, "I think I love you, too."
He reached out and took my hand and smiled, and I knew instantly that I'd made the right decision. He leaned forward, and kissed me, and I kissed him back, and closed my eyes, and all my worries and fears faded away.
No matter what happened afterwards, I'll always have that one perfect moment.
"So what happens now?"
That's the question that immediately jumps to mind, and of course, we asked it of each other, and spent quite a bit of time talking about it, even deep into the night. This was the first time we'd actually really talked about our feelings for each other, and we spent a lot of time figuring them out, at least as best we could.
The next day, he had to go to work, even though it was a Sunday, because there weren't any more days off for people in his position. For the scientists working towards the Solution, every day counted, because the more time passed, the more people across the world would hit one or another of the Stages. So I was left alone to do things around the house, things I'd put off or ignored because, well, you know, it's just not that important to worry about dusting or vacuuming or cleaning your windows when you don't know for sure how much longer you're even going to be big enough to care.
Now, though, I felt happy, happier than I'd ever been, at least for as long as I can remember. I was in love with a wonderful guy who was in love with me. Nothing else really mattered any more. I did all those chores and meaningless little things with a whistle on my lips and a song in my heart.
He came over later that night, of course, and admitted he'd been thinking about me all day, and we ate dinner and made love like we always do, and in the morning we both left for work, but we never really did anything about that elephant lurking in the room. You know what I mean: that really big, important subject that you both know is there, waiting, needing to be brought up, but somehow always talked around or ignored. It was simple, really. What happens when one of us enters Stage One?
There was no way to tell when the change was coming. Some people had symptoms beforehand, like a cold coming on, or maybe the shakes, or something like that. Eventually, though, they'd get light-headed, and faint, and then the change would come, slowly at first, then accelerating. I'd read about it, to prepare myself, and it was supposed to be relatively painless, though disorienting, and a lot of people just slept through it. They would pass out, and a few hours later wake up about a third as big as they were before.
The one thing that was certain was that nobody could predict the transition, or schedule it, and it wasn't in any way contagious. So unless we had the most amazing stroke of luck, either I or Steven was going to hit Stage One well before the other. The resulting size difference would be like a stake driven into our relationship. There were all sorts of advice columns and TV shows discussing how to deal with such things, because as you might imagine a lot of people were concerned about that particular issue, but the sad truth was the vast majority of the time, the transition drove people apart.
There were success stories, here and there, but most of the time, the relationship was doomed. The larger person would eventually see their partner as a burden, or something to be pitied, or as no longer interesting. The smaller one, meanwhile, suffered from inferiority complexes, paranoia, depression and worse. Psychiatrists had described all of these things and could prescribe all sorts of treatments, but generally, unless the larger partner also transitioned soon after, you could just about forget it.
I didn't want that to happen, and I'm sure Steven didn't either, but we were too happy to ruin the feeling by talking about such things. Sometimes, I think maybe we should have, and then again, maybe it wouldn't have mattered. I really don't know. Certainly early on I wished we did, but now...well, I don't know. I just don't know.
I suppose I should've known something was up when Steven called me later in the day. I was just about to leave work, which was unusually tiring for once. I'd been riding the bus all afternoon, visiting various facilities and listening to the usual descriptions and theories that really went nowhere. I do recall noting, however, that the desperation was beginning to get a little bit more palpable.
A few days before, I'd visited a place where a couple of their top researchers were already Stage Two. Someone at that Stage is usually about nine or ten inches high, so they look like a walking Barbie or Ken doll. They can't get around by themselves and have to be carried everyplace, and there aren't any tools or equipment they can use easily. That's why the government decided a while ago that everyone, regardless of age or station, had to turn themselves over when they hit Stage Two. That way they could be taken to a safe facility, where they were taken care of and prepared for their new lives when they finally reached Stage Three.
Well, apparently there were exceptions to every rule. I'd seen Stage Ones wandering around at research facilities before, trying to do their jobs as best they could, but I'd never seen a Stage Two before. Apparently, these particular individuals were so important, and their ideas so groundbreaking, that they couldn't be done without. Their exceptions lasted exactly thirty days, because as far as anyone knew, nobody yet had transitioned from Two to Three in anything less than a month. So they could work there at least that long without being in danger of the final change, which sometimes required medical assistance to survive.
Anyway, today it was even worse, because I visited no less than five research places and every one of them had at least one Stage Two worker. The last one had four. Yep, things were definitely getting desperate out there.
After I got back from my tour, I delivered my report to my boss, Dr. Masterson. All I said, of course, was the usual--nothing much going on, no real hopeful prospects, and all that sort of thing. He seemed a bit distracted, but since I wasn't really telling him anything important, I didn't care. I felt depressed anyway, so I was glad to get out of his office and back to my desk, so I could get ready to go home.
Steven called shortly after that, and for a moment his voice cheered me up. He seemed somewhat agitated, though, and after what he said first, I assumed that was just because he was stuck at work. Bad assumption, as it turns out.
"Hey, Nat," he said, by this point having run out of different ways to abbreviate my name, and now rotating through them one after the other. "Look, I'm really sorry, but I'm going to be late getting out of here tonight."
"Not too late, I hope," I replied, more than a little disappointed, because thinking about seeing Steven later that night was part of what kept me going through all those endless conferences. "What's going on?"
"Well, something came up here at work," he answered evasively. "I really can't discuss it right now. Are you all right?"
"Sure, why?"
"I don't know. You just sound...well, I really just don't know. Something in your voice, that's all."
"Well, I'm a little annoyed," I admitted. "I was really looking forward to seeing you. Is something happening I should know about? Are you okay, Steven?"
He hesitated, and when he finally answered, he sounded even more frazzled than before. "Yes, yes, I'm fine. Look, Nat, I really can't talk right now. I'm needed in, ah, a meeting that's going to take at least a couple more hours. You're going to have to get dinner without me, but I'll try to make it home before bedtime, okay?"
"Sure," I agreed. "Look, whatever's going on, if it's that important, you stay as long as you need to."
"Thanks, I really appreciate your understanding." He paused again, and then he really worried me with his next few words, which were spoken in a much quieter voice. "Nat, if anything happens, call me right away, will you? I need to know you're okay."
"Sure, Steven, but I really don't know what--"
"Never mind. I have to go. I'll call you later when I get out of this...meeting, as soon as I'm on a bus, so you know when to expect me. If I don't call by eleven, then I'm still stuck here, so go to bed without me and I'll see you tomorrow, all right?"
"Yes, but Steven, what--?"
"Sorry, Nat, gotta go!" And with that he hung up.
I clicked off my cell and put it away, shaking my head. What the hell was that all about?
As I waited for the bus, I tried to make sense of it all. Something was clearly going on there, and it wasn't just some ordinary meeting. The way he hesitated when he called it that made it pretty clear something else was happening.
What, though? He was worried about my safety, which didn't bode well, but what could possibly be going on at the Henderson Science Center that had anything to do with me? Were they doing some kind of experiment that affected people who'd been there recently? The last time I was in that building was two weeks ago, when I met Steven for the first time, and that meant it was probably getting close to time to schedule another visit. Did that have something to do with it?
I thought back over my previous trip out there. We arrived in the early morning, met around a big table with coffee and donuts, and took a brief tour. Then we talked to a few lead scientists, including Steven, about various projects, and then exchanged some data via laptop connections. Then we left. Nothing special. When we got back, the data was uploaded to the computers down in Analysis, but I didn't have anything to do with that. There were specialists in that department who sifted through all that technical stuff. If there was something in there we weren't supposed to see, it was already far out of my hands.
Not that this stopped me from worrying, of course.
There was another possibility, a far more hopeful one, and that was that maybe the folks at Henderson had made some kind of breakthrough. Maybe that's what the meeting was about. Had they found the Solution? Or something close to it? Or maybe taken a step towards finding it? Perhaps they were doing additional tests to see if it was really working, and that's why Steven was delayed. But why would that put me in any danger at all?
I worried about it long enough that I purposely missed my stop, and rode around the bus route almost back to my office. At one point I got off and grabbed a bite to eat at a fast food place, eating a couple of vegetarian taco salads, since meat was too expensive to get anywhere except a fancy restaurant these days. The food, and fresh air outside, helped me clear my head a bit. I decided I was worrying about nothing, got on the next bus, and headed home.
By the time I got there, my stomach was hurting, and so I thought that taco salad wasn't agreeing with me, perhaps because I was stressed out from the things Steven said on the phone. I took some medicine and sat down to relax, and the feeling went away for a while, but then I had to rush to the restroom in a big hurry. Again I felt better, but only for about fifteen minutes, and then...
This time, it was different. I didn't really feel nauseous, or sick, but I could tell something was wrong, deep down inside. I really don't know how to describe it. Maybe similar to hunger, because it was making me weak and dizzy, and when I stood up, I almost lost my balance. It's just mild food poisoning, I told myself, over and over, even as goose bumps rose across my skin and every nerve in my body started tingling.
I sat back down, holding my head in my hands, willing that crazy, terrible, gut-wrenching feeling to go away. I thought maybe I could drive it off by sheer will power, like it was something my conscious mind could control.
I was wrong. It didn't go away. It settled into me, seeping into my muscles and bones, into my head and chest, filling every part of me. I don't think I had ever actually been aware of my entire body quite like that before. I thought I could feel it extending into my hair, and my fingernails, and the tips of my teeth, even my fillings--all the parts of me that weren't live cells anymore, if they ever were, but were still there, still part of the conglomerate that made up the creature that was Natalie Patterson.
There was no denying what was happening. I knew it, in the core of my being, and wishing it wasn't there wasn't going to change that fact. My time had come.
I grabbed my cell phone and quickly hit my speed dial. There was no ring. Instead, I instantly reached Steven's voice mail. I wanted to hear his voice now, so badly, but such was not to be. I could already feel myself losing control of my consciousness, drifting away, like a person just about to fall asleep, and vaguely aware that they're teetering on the edge.
"Steven," I said weakly, with all the will I still possessed. "It's happening to me. Right now. I think I'm changing. Please..."
Then my old life went away.
When I awoke, the world was a blur. I couldn't see anything clearly at all, just random shapes and colors. I blinked a few times and rubbed my eyes, but it was like looking through frosted glass. I knew, thanks to a certain familiarity with my surroundings, that I was in my room, on my bed, but everything was too distorted to identify.
I sat up, and immediately regretted it. The wave of dizziness that swept over me almost made me faint. I quickly lay back down and sucked in a few rapid breaths, trying to focus and failing.
A voice spoke from nearby. A woman's voice, to my surprise, because what woman would be talking to me right now? "Ah, you're awake," she said pleasantly, and I thought she sounded familiar, but couldn't figure out from where. "You're probably hungry. I'll be right back. Don't try to get up just yet. Just close your eyes and concentrate on your breathing."
I heard the woman scuttle off, and though I could make out movement in the distance, going through a dark gap in the white area that I assumed was my bedroom wall. I did what she said, breathing carefully for a few moments, and slowly pushing myself back up against my pillow so my head rose up higher than bed level.
Things slowly came into focus, and that's when it became official. The walls of my room were much farther away than they should've been, and my bed was phenomenally huge. Even the pillow I was resting on was almost as big as I was.
I was now Stage One!
I was scared, of course, as you might expect, because everything was going to be different for me now, but like most people I'd somewhat resigned myself to the fact that this would happen to me eventually. So mostly, at that point, the fear was counterbalanced by a certain inevitability of circumstance. Almost as if I were thinking, "Well, finally, and it's about time, too." Although I don't actually recall saying that to myself, that's the way I remember my post-transition moments. No despair, no terror, just a little fear, followed by a reluctant acceptance and resignation.
I continued to look around, trying to adjust as best I could. As I took in my surroundings, I noticed that the light wasn't coming from the bulbs in the ceiling, but rather through the windows. It was early morning, apparently, which meant I'd slept through the night, and through the entire transitioning process. That was fine with me. Going through it consciously wasn't really painful, but it was supposed to be weird and creepy, like having your skin crawl for hours on end, as you slowly dwindled smaller and smaller...
There was movement, and in my still-hazy vision, I saw a woman come through the door, holding a mug in two hands. The reason I hadn't noticed her before was that she, too, was Stage One. She wore white, in marked contrast to well-tanned skin, and was smiling as she came up to the side of the bed. With the greatest of care she reached up and pushed the mug onto my nightstand, and I saw there was a spoon sticking out of the cup. The smell immediately told me this wasn't coffee or any such thing, but recently heated chicken noodle soup. Probably taken from my own cupboard, because I always kept a few cans around in case I got the flu or something.
"Thank you," I said, carefully crawling over to it on my hands and knees. I was nude, of course, so I kept one of my bedsheets wrapped around me as best I could. This woman was probably a doctor, but I didn't know that for sure, so I retained what was left of my modesty, even as I struggled to get a grip on the huge spoon. The utensil seemed to me like it was a foot and a half long, and my hands were still shaking somewhat from the ordeal my body had gone through, so this was no easy task.
"Take it easy," the woman said in a comforting, instructional tone, taking away any doubt that she was in anything other than the medical profession. "No need to hurry. Your nervous system's still trying to adjust to the change. You'll have trouble walking, too, and your eyes may need some time to focus. You may have problems with perspective, as your brain retrains itself to the new scale of everything, but it won't take long."
I nodded, carefully taking my first sip of the soup, which was warm but not so hot that it would burn my lips. The thick broth tasted wonderful, and I really was hungry, so I wasted no time trying to get another spoonful. "By the way, who are you?" I asked in between attempts.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot, you probably don't remember," she explained, "or maybe you just didn't recognize me. I'm Dr. Kaylee Gutierrez, from the Henderson Science Center. You can call me Kay, if you like. I'm not really a scientist, though, I'm a medical doctor. One of their staff doctors, in fact. It's my job to keep an eye on their Stage Ones and Twos, and make sure any related medical issues are taken care of."
"What are you doing here, then?" I couldn't help but ask. I knew I sounded brusque, but I hadn't really expected to wake up with a strange woman in my home, and I really wanted an explanation. Plus, I was irritated at Steven for not being here. He obviously sent her, which was nice and all, but the face I wanted to see upon waking up was his, not hers.
"Well, Steven--I mean, Dr. Beck--asked me to come," Kay said, quickly and abruptly switching to his formal title, as if catching herself making a mistake. That must've meant something, but I was still too fuzzy to investigate, and besides, she kept right on going, bringing up another matter entirely. "He wanted to be here, I assure you, but that just wasn't possible."
"Wasn't possible? Why not?" I demanded, starting to get angry. Then I immediately regretted it, because as my heart rate started to go up, I began to get dizzy again. "Sorry," I went on, calming myself. "I'm not mad at you, so I shouldn't take it out on you."
"It's all right, I understand," she said, smiling affably. My vision had cleared completely now, and I remembered her. A brown-haired, reasonably attractive woman in her thirties, with a dark complexion and penetrating green eyes that had a way of sizing you up with just a glance. She was working in the medical wing when I visited the HSC two weeks ago, as I recall, and was already Stage One at the time, which was the only reason the encounter was even slightly memorable. They introduced our group and she told us why she was there, but that was the only time I saw her, and had basically dismissed the whole encounter from my mind, up until just now.
"I suppose I'd be upset, too," Kay went on, "but you have to understand, they didn't give Steven much choice. I think they had to actually physically restrain him to keep him from leaving. They needed him there, though, for some reason--I don't really know why. So he asked me to come lend a hand. This isn't the first time I've witnessed a transition, you know. I've seen at least a dozen now."
"That makes me feel a little better," I admitted, and it was true, although why anyone would have to restrain Steven made me more than a little curious. Nothing much I could do about that right now, though. I sighed and looked around at my now oversized room. "I knew this would come one day, I guess," I said sadly, "but I really hoped it would wait a bit longer."
"Everyone does," explained Kay with a shrug. "Nobody really wants this, but like it or not, it's going to affect everybody eventually. Unless people like my--I mean, people like Steven find a way to stop it, of course. In the meantime, though, I'll stay here a bit longer, to answer any questions you might have, or help you adjust to your new scale."
I nodded and continued working on the soup, which tasted great, and God knows I was starving when I started. Nonetheless, I quickly found myself full, and the mug wasn't even half empty. "I really thought I'd want more of that," I said, putting the heavy spoon down, and trying very hard not to wonder what Kay was hiding. Perhaps if I continued to engage her in conversation, she'd make a real mistake. "Is my stomach that much smaller?" I inquired curiously, even though I already knew the answer. Well, I thought I understood, anyway.
"The thing you have to realize," she began, and I knew at once that I was about to get lectured, "is that you're one-third your normal size, but that only refers to height. Your body exists in three dimensions, not one, so you're actually smaller by one-third cubed."
"Yes, I know all about that," I told her, for that was something I'd already read about many times. My body mass was only one-twenty-seventh what it was before, approximately. The precise reduction isn't exactly one-third, of course, just close enough that most everyone thinks of it that way.
"Well, what you may not have realized is that means your stomach's volume is also at that same scale. So you're going to be eating far, far less than you're used to. You won't be needing most of those ration cards for food, that's for sure."
I nodded, and thought about that for a moment, and she was right, it wasn't something that had ever occurred to me. I knew about the cube rule, but never actually considered what it meant, except as it related to weight. This was the first surprise I'd come across regarding my new scale, but it wouldn't be the last.
"Anyway," Kay went on blithely, managing to avoid sounding condescending, "your body's gone through a tremendous change overnight. In some way we still don't understand, you've shed over ninety-five percent of your body mass. That's going to take some time to adjust to. Your brain, which now a lot more compact than it was before, will be trying to catch up for a while, so don't do anything strenuous, or try to leave your apartment. Honestly, I'd recommend you just lie on the couch and watch television all day. If you want to do some experimentation, climbing around on things and so forth, you can, but take it easy. Don't try to reach the sink or take a bath, much as you may want to. Obviously, you won't be going in to work today, but after a good night's sleep, you should be all right. Tomorrow, you can probably get back to your regular life, if you like. If you don't, you can take another day off, but after that, you really should go back to the office. It'll make you feel better and help you adjust, and believe me, nobody's going to point their fingers and laugh at you, if that's what you're afraid of."
"It's not," I assured her. "I don't really know how I feel about it, but I'm not afraid of that. If anything, I just want to get back to work, and try to be normal."
"Well, that's all well and good, but you aren't normal anymore." Kay pulled herself up onto the bed, so she was sitting next to me, and reached out a hand to supportively clasp my shoulder. "You aren't normal anymore, Natalie, and that's absolutely fine. You need to come to grips with that, one way or another, because you won't be able to find any peace until you do. If you have trouble, there are psychiatrists and support groups who can help you. I've left a notebook out on one of the chairs in your kitchen--you should take a look, when you get a chance. There are pamphlets there with all the contact information you might need. Any of those places would be a great help, if you let them. They helped me adapt to my change, and I really needed it."
"You don't seem all that upset about being smaller," I noted, because she truly did seem completely comfortable at her size. "In fact, now that I remember you from the science center, you seemed pretty laid back about it, even then."
"Well, I've been this way for over two months," she replied, "but when I first changed, I was absolutely devastated. You see, my husband Michael went through the transition over two years ago, and that didn't go well. We tried to adjust, but he couldn't stand being so small compared to me, and I suppose I wasn't as supportive as I should've been. We separated, and then he went Stage Two, and they put him on a bus to the Boston Relocation Center. I never heard from him again, and I don't know if I ever will, or if I even want to."
She sighed and shifted on the bed, as if to give herself a moment to collect her thoughts. Before I could think of anything to say, she continued her story. "So when I went Stage One myself, and saw what it was really like, I finally understood what he had to deal with. It was worse for me, though. Not only did I have to adjust to a new scale, I had to come to grips with my own failure to keep my marriage together. I honestly don't know if Michael will, or even could, forgive me for that. Maybe he will, and maybe we'll meet again, although there's no guarantee I'll wind up at the same minicity as him. According to the law, we're divorced, so they have no obligation to put us together, and every reason to keep us apart."
"That's terrible," I replied. "They should at least try to match you up, if you ask."
"I suppose it's possible, but you have to understand, we're talking about hundreds of millions of people, all being relocated to newly built places with very limited and specific population requirements, in secret locations all over the country. Every time someone says they want to go where one specific individual is, or not where certain other people are, it just puts a strain on the whole system. The city Michael went to may already be full, for all I know. Or maybe they needed his specific skills in one place, and they'll need doctors somewhere else. It's impossible to say. It's out of my hands, so it's not worth worrying about, just like the fact that you're now less than two feet high."
I nodded, and took a deep breath, letting those words sink in. Less than two feet high. I looked around my room again, which was now clearly in focus, so I could see everything. It was all exactly the way I remembered it, just much, much bigger.
"Is it all right if I get out of bed now?" I asked, deciding it would probably be better if I started getting used to this as soon as possible. "I'd like to walk around, if that's okay."
"Sure you can," said Kay. "In fact, I brought a jumpsuit for you to put on, if you like, so you don't have to strut around in the buff. It'll be better than one of those government issue unitards. Let me go get it."
She slid back off the bed and left the room. Cautiously, I pulled myself over to the edge and looked down. The floor looked so very far away.
Still careful, but no longer nearly as dizzy as before, I lowered myself to the ground. The carpet was thick and tickled my bare feet, and I was now shorter than my own bed. I took a few hesitant steps forward and peered around the corner, at the rest of my room, and glumly considered the fact that I had to look up at everything.
You can do all the reading and preparing you want, but when you really see it for the first time, and understand that this is how the world's going to look from now on, well, that's more than just a little intimidating. I wanted to climb back up in bed and bury myself in the sheet I now had wrapped around myself, but I had to force myself not to. I told myself I was going to be strong about this, and that's what I intended to do. I would get through this, one way or another.
My nurse returned a moment later, carrying a child-sized jumpsuit, the kind you see young children wearing, and of course it looked like it would fit me perfectly. There were no shoes, though, just a simple red-and-white outfit with three oversized buttons. She was right--it did look a lot better than the unitard the government provided with their ubiquitous "Stage One Preparation Kit" they delivered to every citizen a couple of years ago. To be quite honest, I had no idea where that box even was.
"Good, you got down on your own," said Kay, smiling. "No residual dizziness, then?"
"A little," I admitted. "I feel a lot better, though. Thanks for the soup, it really helped."
"You may need to eat several extra meals today," she explained, turning her back as I got into the unusually coarse and uncomfortable outfit. "Your body shed a lot of mass, including anything that wasn't completely necessary, which is a good thing. Our bodies pick up a lot of useless junk that winds up getting carried around our whole lives, you know. This process gets rid of all that."
"If you don't mind my asking," I inquired curiously, "where exactly did all that mass go, anyway?"
"Well," she replied, wrinkling up her nose a little at the memory, "fortunately for you, I came prepared."
"What do you mean?"
"I brought a plastic tarp," she went on, "and while you were delirious, and just starting to change, I coaxed you off your couch onto the floor. While you were transitioning, all that excess material, the stuff that didn't just evaporate, was left behind along with your clothes. I wrapped it all up and shoved it into a garbage bag, but if you want to have a look..."
"No, no, that won't be necessary!" I quickly insisted. The less I thought about that, the better!
"Okay, then, I'll see to it that's taken care of," Kay said with a nod. "Anyway, are you ready to have a look around now? Your apartment will seem like a completely different place, I'm sure, and it won't be quite so small anymore."
"Yeah," I agreed at once. "I think I'm ready for that now."
With as much confidence as I could muster, I headed out to have a look.
You probably think I'm going to take you on a guided tour of my apartment, and tell you more about how huge and intimidating everything was. Well, I'll spare you all the boring details. Yes, everything was bigger, because I was oh so small, and so on, blah blah blah. You get the idea.
There was a time when I thought I'd like to live in a house of my own, one day when I was successful and had a career, and could afford a home without having to get married and have kids just to pull it off. I never dated much in college, just a few times, long enough to figure out that starting a family wasn't something I really wanted. I moved to D.C. mostly to get away from that scene and work on trying to get established in some government position that would eventually lead to working for some senator or congressman someplace. I wanted to get into politics eventually, because that was something that always interested me, but once people started to shrink all around the world, that pretty much killed that whole plan.
I considered myself fortunate to be working for an oversight committee at the time, which is how I wound up doing what I was doing over at JTRAC. In the meantime, of course, I never bothered moving out of my pathetic dump of an apartment, because really, what was the point? I was going to have to leave everything behind eventually, anyway, so there was no sense moving it, even if I could find a moving van or truck still out on the roads.
So yeah, I wandered around my place for a bit, getting used to how big everything was. Who wouldn't? It was like seeing everything I owned, everything I was used to, only now suddenly changed, in many cases grown too large for me to even use effectively. Thank God this was a first floor apartment, with no stairs to climb, because that would've completely sucked. The rest of it, I could deal with, once I got over the overwhelming strangeness of it all.
The whole time I wandered around, Kaylee was there, answering my occasional question, and giving me advice and tips on how to rearrange things so I could get along better now that everything was out of proportion. Eventually, though, she decided I was ready to be by myself, and she accepted that, said goodbye, and left. To my surprise, there was an actual ambulance waiting outside, which was something of a rarity these days except in an emergency. The thing must've been there all night, too, unless she summoned it at some point when I wasn't watching.
As she went outside, I saw there was a normal-sized driver standing by, since of course she could hardly drive anything at her size. He leaned down to help her inside, but that looked to me like a formality rather than a necessity, as Kay was perfectly capable of climbing aboard on her own. He did come up to my front door and pick up a couple of carrying cases she brought in, the ones that held my brochures and kid's clothes and so forth, as well as that bag of trash Kay mentioned before. The driver never said a word to me, though, and never even looked at me, even though I was standing right there. I didn't say anything to him either, but of course you can understand why, seeing as this was the first normal-sized person I'd seen since my transition. He was absolutely gigantic, and although I knew he wouldn't do anything to me, it's difficult to prepare yourself for the shock of seeing something walking around that towers over you by quite that much.
He didn't seem to notice or care about my size, though, and as he walked off, I found my mind going back to that woman I saw on the bus the other day. When she glanced around and saw me, and our eyes met, I automatically looked away and pretended I wasn't staring at her. Was that how things were going to be for me now? People afraid to look at me, or treating me like I didn't exist? Probably.
Well, I could deal with that, I figured, even as I headed back to the living room to turn on the television. I intended to take Kay's advice and just lounge around all day, and let my brain and body recover from the ordeal. That's what I started to do, anyway, but the only thing on were those terrible morning shows, as nearly all scripted series were long gone from the airwaves. I could only stand so much of that and eventually turned it off.
After that, I spent some time rooting around for that government-issue "Stage One Kit," or whatever it was called, that got delivered to my door a couple years back. Just one of the wonderful ways our fine congressmen were working to improve our situation, or so they'd have us believe. Not that looking at a white unisex, one-size-fits-all unitard, with accompanying slip-on shoes, was any help at all. There was more Stage One sized stuff in there, I vaguely remembered, but when the package arrived I contemptuously shoved the whole kit somewhere out of the way and promptly forgot all about it. Where it was now, I had no idea.
I suppose I probably put it up on a shelf someplace, when I was straightening up, which would've been exactly the dumbest thing imaginable, but that's typical Natalie for you. Looking once again at the care package Kaylee brought, I found myself belatedly grateful for her help, and regretted treating her so callously there at the beginning. The jumpsuit she gave me, silly-looking as it was, at least felt better than wrapping myself up in some oversized towel.
I really hadn't done a good job preparing for this, had I? I mean, there I was, knowing full well that one day I'd shrink, and yet I'd managed to completely blow off doing any sort of useful preparation. Where were the kid-sized clothes to wear, the stools to help me reach things, the one-third-size toiletries, and so on? Nowhere, that's where. I just hadn't gotten around to it, plain and simple. I think maybe I'd excused it, in the back of my mind, by telling myself that once I finally got those things, it would be like saying "bring it on," and the change would finally happen. Somewhere along the way, I deluded myself into believing that if I procrastinated, maybe it would pass me by.
So there I was, all shrunk down with nothing to wear, and not at all prepared to be this way. I wanted to slap myself for letting this happen, but I couldn't very well do anything about it now. Instead I just got depressed and wandered around, trying to get over the helplessness and self-pity, and I never quite succeeded.
The only way I could even try to adapt was to try to put the transition out of my mind. Brooding about it didn't help, so I spent the rest of the morning trying to find something useful to do. Using the computer proved difficult, as you can imagine, since I could only barely work the keyboard, and of course my desk chair was all but useless, except as a platform to stand on. Reading worked for a while, though I had to figure out a good way to hold the books and magazines I was looking at, but eventually that got boring as well. I looked over the brochures Kay left, but nothing seemed to jump right out at me as anything I wanted to try, so I put the notebook back on the table where I found it. I suppose if I'd really had any serious problems adjusting, I could always call the psychiatrists (no more calling them "shrinks," that's for sure), but I hoped I'd never need to do that.
Eventually, I just went back to the TV and put in some movies, and that's what I did the rest of the day. I did nap here and there, and once I figured out how to use a couple of phone books as a stepladder, I was able to reach the microwave and reheat the cup of soup for another meal.
Mostly, though, I just wondered what Steven was doing and why he didn't call or come by. Naturally I called a couple of times, but only got his voice mail, and he wasn't answering emails either. The day wore on, and eventually the sun set, and still nothing. By this point my emotions were teetering between anger and worry, and all I could do was wonder whether I'd be pissed off or relieved when he finally did show up.
After about nine o'clock, I went back to the computer to check my email for what seemed like the hundredth time, and for once there was something there. I clicked eagerly and saw, much to my relief, that it was from Steven. This is what it said, as best I can recall:
Dearest Natalie,
I apologize profusely for making you wait to long to hear from me. Can't imagine how you must feel, after what happened--wish I could be there now, to be with you through all this. Talk is cheap so I won't waste too much of your time with excuses. Now you're probly wondering what I've been doing all day and why I haven't been there, so I'll try and explain as best I can.
They kept me working all night on a new project that I'll tell you about later, if you're interested. Are you still mad, because if you are, I fully understand, but I hope you can forgive me anyways. Watching you change would've been difficult, but I would've been there if I could have--don't worry, though. Me, I'll be fine, but you should get some rest and I'll come by as soon as I can.
Trust me, like I trust you. K?
Love you.
Steven.
xoxo
So there's that mysterious project that Kay alluded to, something going on at the science center that was keeping Steven away! I wanted to know more about that, but other than the vague promise to tell me later, I had no idea what it could be. And what was that nonsense about "if I'm interested?" Of course I was interested! Hell, I wanted to go out there right now and see what it was, but that was out of the question.
The only thing it could be, the only thing that made any sense, was that they had made some kind of breakthrough in the search for the Solution. Who knows, maybe they actually had it all figured out, and were doing final tests or something. If so, that would've been fantastic, except of course for the fact that it was just a little bit late to help me out. I was already Stage One, so the best I could hope for was to remain one-third normal size for the rest of my life.
You might be wondering if it wouldn't simply be possible to make me big again, once they did solve the Problem. Well, scientists had already nixed that whole idea. You see, even though they didn't have a clue what was causing this, they did know what the end results were. When Kay explained that I'd shed ninety-five percent of my mass, she wasn't kidding. Some of it, mostly crystallized remains and oily gunk I'm sure, was in a trash bag right now, on its way to some landfill someplace. That was only a small portion of what I'd lost, though. The rest was moisture and other liquids that were now evaporated and gone. The process of shrinking removes a huge amount of those things and just gets rid of them pretty much forever. How are you supposed to put that all back in?
It's not like we just dwindle down in size, like you used to see on those Sinbad movies and bad TV shows, where some magician casts a spell and you start getting smaller and smaller. Those were just video special effects. If you could really compress someone that way, they wouldn't be able to breathe, or walk, or think, or do anything else for that matter. Instead, our bodies are completely altered forever by the transitioning process, virtually rebuilt one cell at time. Sometimes the changes are at the most basic levels, like the way normal-sized air and fluids could still travel through our much smaller lungs and circulatory system, and how our body heat was regulated so we didn't all burn ourselves out. We're still human, of course, but our bodies are completely adapted to our new sizes, and there's no way to press a biological "undo" button and put it back the way it was.
So, basically, like it or not, I was now one foot, ten inches high, and that's how I was going to stay, Solution or no Solution.
I wonder how Steven would react to that? Although I was pretty sure I loved him, and I he claimed to love me, how was that love going to survive the difference in scale? Not very well, I imagined, especially if they really did have a Solution in hand and he missed an opportunity to save me. In fact, maybe that's what this was all about, I thought ruefully. Maybe he heard my phone message and wanted to rush over here to try the cure on me, and they wouldn't let him. That would be terrible!
I reread the message again, but there wasn't anything in there to suggest such a thing. He might've just been hiding his feelings, or maybe he just didn't want to upset me. Or, more likely, since he was sending the email from a secure facility, he couldn't afford to risk giving up any details on their latest project over the Internet. No doubt there were plenty of HSC's competitors monitoring their electronic traffic, and I was pretty sure some of the people on my committee were doing the same thing, based on the few times I'd wandered around in the lower floors of our building.
Thinking along these lines got me wondering, since I was bored anyway and had little else to do. What if Steven really was worried about his email being intercepted? He wouldn't have been able to tell me anything directly, but like I said earlier, he always was a meticulous, careful sort of guy, a man who rarely left anything to chance. Maybe he put some clue in the email that I could figure out if I looked hard enough--some kind of puzzle, hidden in the words.
Come to think of it, some of those sentences of his weren't very well crafted at all. Steven was something of a perfectionist, another of those little traits of his that were truly endearing (and great to poke fun at, I might add), and that carried over to his writing. I'd seen a number of memos and technical documents he'd written or edited, and there wasn't a misspelled word or poorly constructed sentence to be found in any of them. So why, then, did he leave out commas where they belonged, or include run-on sentences in his email? I knew him well enough by now to know he'd never send even a quick email without rereading it first for errors, no matter how much of a hurry he was in.
I reread the letter again, with all of that in mind, and now it looked extremely suspicious. All those run-ons...why, it would've driven Steven crazy to write sentences like some of those! It was totally against his nature. And the word "anyways?" Steven would never use that colloquialism, ever--not even in casual conversation. Not to mention abbreviating "okay" to just one letter. And the heinous misspelling of "probably" was a dead giveaway. Did he even write this thing himself...?
There were only two possible answers--either he didn't, and someone was pretending to be him (and doing a poor job of it)--or he did write it, but he purposely used terrible English for some reason. Discounting the first possibility, because that one led only to places my mind didn't want to visit, I concentrated on the second. Why would he write like a 6th-grader, and even use "xoxo" like some lovestruck schoolkid, unless it was some sort of clue to the puzzle I thought might be hidden in this message?
Maybe he needed to use certain words, I thought to myself, and the only way to do it was to use bad sentence structure to pull it off. So what words? I immediately found myself focusing on the ones that were capitalized, not really expecting to find anything, but as I read them to myself out loud, I began to feel a very, very cold chill running up and down my spine.
The message I decoded, taken from the first word of every sentence, is written below, and believe me, I didn't feel any better for having figured it out. In fact, I felt a whole lot worse. Anyway, here it is:
Dearest
I Can't Talk Now
They Are Watching Me
Trust K
Love
Steven
I don't know how long I sat there staring at that message. I kept wanting to believe it wasn't really there, but there was no question about it--Steven hid those words in that email on purpose. Not very well, either, because it was way too easy to figure out, but it would be good enough to fool a casual observer. If someone was watching him over his shoulder, and he wrote the whole thing in one shot--which I had no doubt he could easily have done--they probably wouldn't have noticed. Hopefully, anyway.
So something was clearly going on, that much I knew. What it was, I had no idea, but it was enough that people were spying on him, maybe even holding him prisoner. Despite that, he did manage to send Kay out to help me, and his note even let me know she could be trusted. "Trust K," he managed to suggest, without ever specifically naming her at all. Just the sort of attention to detail Steven was best at.
So what now? I desperately wanted to know more about what was happening, and why, but how could I do that without endangering Steven, or myself? If they were watching him, I couldn't very well show up there, especially after he just told me (in the note they eavesdropped on) that he'd come by later. So was I just supposed to wait, and do nothing?
I thought about trying to get some sleep, but how exactly was I supposed to do that, when all I could think about was Steven might be in trouble? I started pacing around, worrying and fretting and feeling completely helpless. It's funny, I would've thought being smaller would've induced that particular emotion, but as far as I was concerned, my size was entirely secondary.
I was starting to contemplate getting myself roaring drunk, something I hadn't done since my freshman year at college, when my cell phone rang. I hurried out to get it, hoping it was Steven, but instead it was a number I didn't recognize. Holding the formerly palm-sized device to my ear was more difficult than usual, but I did it anyway, figuring it was probably someone from work, checking up on me. Instead, a familiar voice was on the other end of the line.
"Natalie?" asked Kaylee Gutierrez in a friendly tone. "How are you doing? Gotten used to Stage One already?"
"Oh, hi, Kay," I replied, wondering if her calling me so soon after the email's arrival was a coincidence, or something else. "Yeah, I guess I'm adjusting fine, although I haven't been outside yet."
"Well, I know this may seem early, but now that you've had some rest, I was wondering if you might want to do a little shopping? I'd be happy to help you find your way around, and get some things you probably don't even know you need."
"Oh, yeah, sure," I answered, a little surprised by the offer. Coming over to provide medical assistance was one thing, but I didn't know Kay at all, beyond what happened that morning, yet she was acting like she was already my friend. Still, the note did say to "trust K," so I suppose it was all right. "You mean right now?" I asked, letting a little uncertainty slip into my voice.
"Sure, why not?" Kay replied. "You're going to go out tomorrow, right? To go back to work?"
"Well, yeah, I was planning on it," I replied, although in truth I'd only barely thought about it at all.
"You can't go to work in a kid's jumpsuit," Kay pointed out, "and trust me, you aren't gonna fit in anything else you have in your closet, unless you really planned ahead."
"No, I really didn't," I admitted, feeling more than a little embarrassed about that, actually. Again, you'd think I would've done something, anything...but no, I pretty much blew it off entirely.
Fortunately, I had Kay to come to my rescue. "Then tell you what, I'm not that far from you now," she suggested amiably. "I could get to your place with just one bus transfer. I'll be there in maybe half an hour, all right? We'll go do a little shopping, and maybe get some food, and you can get a feel for what the great big world is really like. Believe me, it'll be easier to deal with if you have someone there to lean on."
I had to agree, and besides, having Kay there would help me get my mind off what was going on with Steven. "Sure, sounds good," I told her, and the deal was struck.
She showed up about fifteen minutes later, give or take a few minutes, which she attributed to getting off one bus and right onto another, but honestly I didn't believe that at all. I was pretty sure she was already on her way over to my place when she called, and hadn't intended to take no for an answer.
We got on the next bus and exchanged small talk (if you don't mind me using that particular phrase) about what it was like to be Stage One. Getting on the bus was just as difficult as I imagined it would be, and the stares of the riders were filled with pity. At least, those who would look at me at all. I found myself thinking, once again, of that woman I saw on the bus a couple days ago, and how she must've felt, trying in vain to live her life as normally as possible.
Now that woman was me.
We rode for a while, with Kay blathering on about how people would treat me now, but of course I already figured that out for myself. Oh, there were those who would help me out, if I needed it, out of some sense of chivalry or whatever, but all they were really doing was thanking God it wasn't them.
We eventually reached the right stop, although how Kay knew, I have no idea, since we couldn't see out the windows very well. She'd been riding buses like this for months now, though, so she probably had all the routes memorized. That would be something I'd have to get used to, along with everything else.
We exited, and I found myself in front of a K-mart, which wasn't what I expected at all. I was expected to dress professionally at the office--you can hardly buy proper business suits and such at the home of the Blue Light Special. I suppose it must've shown on my face, because Kay laughed and said, "Don't worry, I didn't take a wrong turn. This is the only place you're going to find stuff your size."
"Really? K-mart?" I asked, still unsure, even as she led me through the gigantic automated front doors, which stayed open a little bit longer to make sure people our size could slip through.
"Yeah," she explained, "there's no point in making anything expensive or professional anymore, because most of those customers quit their jobs when they went Stage One. I'm afraid you're going to have to get by with ordinary clothes, but I'm sure your employers will understand."
"I hope so," I replied, following her along through the sky-high racks of clothes and household goods that I doubt I could even lift anymore. There were a lot of empty rows, I noticed, probably due to the steadily dwindling number of customers, as more and more people succumbed to the transitions.
After what seemed like forever, we came to a section where everything was properly scaled, and finally I felt a little more at home. Most of the clothes were your typical blouses and skirts, with some blue jeans, sweatpants and the like, all of which were clearly made on the cheap. I didn't really find this surprising, though, because the average Stage One lasts no more than a year at that size, so you really had no need of something that would last. A Stage One customer would shop for exactly one set of clothes and that was it.
I started looking around, and once I had about a half-dozen choices, Kay helped me carry a few selections to the fitting room. I wound up choosing a pair of jeans, two skirts, a few tops, and of course some underwear, which we loaded onto a cart. There weren't any accessories, like belts and such; apparently I would have to make do with children's versions of those things, but that would be fine, I guess. Then there was the matter of shoes, so we started heading that way, and that's when Kay decided she was done fooling around and got down to business.
"So," she said in a low voice, as we made our way through the giant-sized aisles on our way to the shoe department, "I assume you got Steve's note, and read between the lines."
I glanced at her, eyes wide with surprise, but just as quickly nodded and tried to look as normal as possible. "Yes, I did," I told her, "or I wouldn't be here with you right now."
"Good. He always did like puzzles and word games." This was true; I knew he enjoyed doing Sudoku and similar stuff during idle time, such as while coming over on the bus to visit me. More than once I'd had to try to get his attention as he put the finishing touches on such things. He liked to say they were like mental exercises that kept his mind sharp, which of course was how I liked it. Say what you want about attractive men, but to me, it's the brains that matter. That's what I really fell in love with, it just took a little while to realize that.
Kay kept on walking, barely looking in my direction as we slowly made our way through the store. "I don't know if we've been followed at all, but I don't want to take any chances, so we're just going to keep on shopping. I'll try to tell you what's going on, as far as I know, and when I'm done you'll probably have a million questions. I apologize in advance if I don't have the answers, because I probably won't, but I'll do my best."
"Just as long as you tell me something!" I replied eagerly. "I've been going crazy all day long, wondering what the hell's happening, and Steven's note didn't help matters."
"You have no idea how much he wanted to be there with you," Kay went on. By this point we had reached the shoes and were starting to go through the Stage One section, and I was doing my best to actually try to look like I was looking for something to wear, when in fact all I wanted to do was grab Kay and shake her until all the stuff I wanted to know fell out.
"How do you know that?" I asked after a moment. "How do you know Steven so well? You even called him Steve just a minute ago, and he never lets anyone do that."
Kay chuckled. "That's because I used to tease him about it, back in the day. He's such a character sometimes, but that's why I love him so."
"Love him?" I almost gasped. I felt a surge of jealousy rising, and several other emotions besides. "Oh, God, please tell me you're not married! I'd hate to have to kill you right now!"
"Married?" Kay laughed again. "Oh, no, you've got it all wrong! Sorry, I figured he would've told you by now, but he never got a chance, did he?"
"Tell me what?" I demanded.
"Well, Gutierrez isn't my real last name," she explained, still grinning and obviously enjoying this a bit too much. "After Michael and I separated, I just never got around to restoring it. You see, my maiden name is Beck."
"Beck...?" I asked in disbelief.
"That's right," Kay replied with great amusement. "I'm Steve's sister."
His sister! That explained a lot, like why her voice sounded so familiar when I first heard it--it reminded me of Steven, in a way. That's also how he knew she could be trusted, and was able to tell me so, in his note. There were still some things that didn't add up, though.
"Nice to meet you, Steven's sister," I replied after letting that roll around in my head for a moment. "I don't get it, though. Why didn't you tell me this before? Why didn't he introduce you as his sister when I first met you at the science center?"
"That was all his idea," explained Kay as we started trying on a couple of pairs of tennis shoes I'd picked out, hardly caring at all what they really looked like. "I was devastated when I went Stage One, and he helped me get a job at the HSC, but he did it all behind the scenes. He didn't want anybody to know there was any nepotism going on, so he pulled some strings, called in a few favors, that sort of stuff. I'm sure there's a couple people there who know, but the average worker has no clue. Some of them think we're ex boyfriend and girlfriend, and we always get a laugh out of letting them believe that."
"I still don't see why you have to go through all that elaborate song and dance," I asked, discarding the first pair of shoes as too uncomfortable. "Why not just admit it? I doubt anyone would care."
"Well, that's what I'm going to explain next, and I don't think you're going to like it much," she went on, handing me another pair to try on.
"I don't care, just tell me," I insisted.
"All right," said Kay, "this may take a bit, so take your time trying those things on. When Steve first came to work at the HSC, he was in charge of a small department, trying to research the cause of the shrinking phenomenon. They made no progress at all, of course, and as more and more people in the building started going Stage One and then Stage Two, he moved up the ranks. In the process, he found out a few things--some things he didn't really like. Just little hints here and there, like pieces of a puzzle. But my brother was always good with puzzles, you see, and he put some of them together."
"What did he find out?" I asked, deciding to accept the shoes I was trying on. I put them back in the box and tossed them in the shopping cart that towered nearby.
"There were people at the center," explained Kay, "who weren't just working on finding the Solution. They were also spying."
"What? You mean, from rival companies?"
"No, that's what he thought at first, but it wasn't like that at all. These people were watching our progress and then reporting it to someone else on the outside. He also found evidence that some of them were actively interfering with or even sabotaging our research. It was like these spies didn't really want the Solution to be found."
"But why? That makes no sense!"
"Yeah, we didn't get it either. Steve told me about some of this, after my husband left, and sometimes he'd bring me information to sift through, trying to find out what was really happening. That's about the time that I went Stage One. After I got over the shock, and was told I was no longer needed at the hospital, he got me into the nurse's position at the HSC. From there I could help him even further, since I had access to the medical records of everyone on the staff. That's when I noticed something very interesting."
"What?" I asked, and that's when I realized I had basically stopped working on shoe testing and was just sitting there, totally enthralled by her story. I jerked back into action and continued with the ploy of pretending to shop, even though I had no intention of buying anything else.
"Those spies he'd identified," said Kay in an even lower voice than usual, "had been there for years. In most cases, they arrived during the reorganization after the changeover to transition research. Monica Rafferty, for example, was brought in as one of the supervisors, and Dave McLoughlin was one of the people we picked up after the merge with EcoSystems Incorporated. Plus a lot of other examples I could name, but you get the idea. Anyway, the point is, we had quite an influx of new people back then, but the interesting part is that not one of them had gone Stage One yet. We're talking about almost a dozen people here, when fifty-one percent of the population is Stage One already. The odds against that many people in a specific group avoiding a transition, in that length of time, are astronomical."
"So in other words," I concluded, putting two and two together, "it seems like those people are somehow immune."
"Exactly. And that would mean, if you carry the logic to its farthest extreme, that there's already a Solution out there. Someone found it, and used it, and now they don't want the rest of the world to have it."
I gulped, and suddenly my throat felt very dry. There was already a Solution! The concept boggled the mind, that someone would have it and keep it to themselves, but what Kay was saying made perfect sense. Picture, if you will, this scenario: You're the first ones to find the cure to what's going to eventually shrink everyone in the world to the size of mice. You could give it up, and make it public...or you could keep it for yourselves, and make sure nobody else figured it out. Then, eventually, everyone would be tiny...except you. The world would be your playground, and all those little people just toys in your sandbox.
I felt myself shivering. What a nightmare! Yet despite all that, I still only had part of the story. What was happening now? Had Steven been caught by these spies? Is that why he couldn't talk to me, except in code?
"I can see the wheels in your head spinning around," chuckled Kay, trying to lighten the mood a little. "I think there's steam coming out of your ears, too."
"Yeah, well, this is a lot to take in," I replied. "Why haven't you told anyone about this?"
"I wanted to," Kay told me. "I was going to give it to your committee, in fact, but my brother stopped me. We didn't have any hard evidence, he said, just a few events that might've looked coincidental to people on the outside. Besides, who could be so powerful that they could make all this happen? Remember, these spies showed up just a few weeks after the government declared a state of emergency--sometimes only a few days later, as if they'd known what was coming. They were sent to the HSC from other organizations across the country, and once we started poking around, some of their backgrounds didn't quite check out. We don't know who they really were. What if it was our own government that was doing this? What if they were CIA, or NSA, or something? What then? We hand over the data to your committee, and then we all just disappear, or worse?"
"What do you mean, or worse?" I asked. "What could possibly be worse?"
Kay sighed and looked away. "I don't know," she told me worriedly, "but I really don't want to find out. Anyway, there's more, a lot more, so brace yourself."
"Oh, but I'm enjoying this so much already," I said, the sarcasm thick on my voice. "Bring it on."
"Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you." She paused for a moment, and then continued. "Yesterday, something happened at the lab. Something strange, and maybe even incredible."
"What?" I asked, all too eager to hear it.
"I'm trying to tell you! Settle down, and keep trying on shoes, for God's sake. I was called to one of the basement labs to see Dr. Kleinmann, because his heart was acting up. You remember Hans, right? He's in his seventies and Stage One, you see, and he only barely survived the last transition, so they were worried he might have a heart attack at any moment. That, or he might go Stage Two, and if a doctor isn't close by when that happens, he's a goner."
"Yeah, I remember him. Nice guy, and very energetic for his age."
"Exactly what I was worried about." Kay nodded and went on. "Anyhow, when I got to the lab, Hans was all worked up over something. He kept rambling on and on about 'sub-viral particles' or something like that, and pointing to printouts and bizarre patterns on his computer. I'm no scientist, so I didn't get what he was saying, but I distinctly recall him using that odd term, as well as another one. Something like 'binary minicells' or somesuch. You ever hear of anything like that?"
"No," I admitted, and I truly had no idea. "What are those supposed to be?"
"As best I can guess, from some of the things I overheard," Kay went on, "I think they're what's causing people to shrink."
I stood there for a moment, completely dumbfounded. "Are you trying to tell me," I eventually managed, "that Hans Kleinmann discovered the Solution?"
"No, not exactly, at least I don't think so." Kay shook her head. "I think he was on the right track, though, or at least that's the impression I got, because his heart rate was through the roof. I gave him a pill to calm his nerves, and headed back to my office to see if I could find something stronger that wouldn't require a needle. While I was there, something else happened, and I'm not too sure exactly what, but they wouldn't let me back down to the basement after that, no matter how much I insisted."
My excitement over Dr. Kleinmann's discovery quickly turned sour. "What do you mean, 'they'?" I wondered aloud.
"Some men in suits who'd come out of the woodwork and had part of the building locked down. When I told one of them I had to give Dr. Kleinmann some medication, he took it from me and gave it to him myself, or at least that's what I think happened, because I haven't been allowed back in the basement since, and my brother hasn't left, as far as I know. The only reason I know he's alive is a couple of emails, and the ones he sent me had messages just like yours did. That's how I knew to come help you, and to talk to you tonight."
"At least he's safe," I replied, feeling a little better about that, "but what are we supposed to do now? He's trapped in there, and we can't exactly sneak in and get him out. Plus, like you said, we don't know who else to trust."
"I know," she told me. "We don't really have enough to go on right now, do we? Look, I'm going to try to find out what I can tomorrow, when I go back to the office, and meanwhile you put out feelers in your committee and see what you can learn. Don't take any risks, though. People you think you know might prove to be in on this conspiracy, if that's what it really is. Keep in mind, these guys seem to be able to prevent shrinking from happening, so it's not likely anyone who's already Stage One will be in on it. If you do need to talk to anyone, someone like that would be your best bet."
I had to agree with that, but the rest of what Kay told me left my mind spinning every which way. What if they really had found the Solution, or something close to it, and now these people were trying to suppress it? What was really happening there, and why? And what was going to happen to Steven?
I didn't know the answers to any of those questions. At least, not yet. But I was going to find out, and I wasn't going to let being Stage One stop me.
Our conversation went on from there for a while longer, ending only when we finally moved to the checkout lines to pay for my new clothes. They had a special half-sized lane to serve Stage One customers, which was nice, but again I was greeted by of those pity-filled stares from the checkout clerk. Something I'd have to get used to, I suppose.
Kay and I basically agreed, as we concluded our little talk, that there wasn't much else we could do about this for now, except try to gather information. Tomorrow, at work, I was to try to find out what I could, and she'd keep me informed if she heard anything at the Science Center. Fair enough, I figured, although I knew that wouldn't help me sleep any easier tonight.
The rest of the evening was spent eating and riding the bus and basically getting my mind off the subject of what was happening with Steven. Only when I waved goodbye to Kay at my stop and headed for my apartment, dragging a huge shopping bag behind me, did I snap back to reality.
As I was struggling with my bag, which was half my size, a kind stranger happened by, walking his dog. I don't know what kind of dog it was, probably some kind of Labrador mixed breed, but it was huge and terrifying. The guy, an elderly gentleman type whom I barely got a look at, kept it away from me while he helped haul my sackful of clothes to my front door, apologizing the whole time whenever the monstrous creature started to move in my direction. I clenched my teeth and did my best not to run away screaming, and thanked him gratefully when he left. I don't know which of us was happier when he made his swift departure.
I was able to get my key into the door, open it, and slip inside before anyone else happened by. The streets were almost empty now, as it was getting late, and like any single woman I have the usual fears involving evil men jumping out of the bushes at night. Being less than two feet tall didn't exactly help rid me of that particular concern, either. There were all sorts of stories in the news about us "little people" (sigh, that's what I was now, I guess) getting kidnapped and used for whatever sick games these deranged criminals could imagine.
Safely inside, I put my clothes away, using the lower drawers in my dresser, naturally. Then I realized I was getting tired, so I took care of my end-of-day rituals and climbed into my colossal bed. I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to sleep at all, what with all the worrying about Steven, but that didn't turn out to be much of a problem. My transition, coupled with the trip downtown, apparently left me exhausted enough that I dropped off fairly quickly.
The next day, I decided to go to work, and do my best to pretend it was a normal day. Getting ready to go was something of a chore--it's actually quite a challenge to sit on a toilet that's three times wider than it's supposed to be. Even simpler stuff like brushing my teeth and putting on makeup proved quite difficult. The shower was a treat, too. I particularly enjoyed trying to wash myself with a bar of soap so huge I couldn't grip it in one hand. When I couldn't figure that one out, I resorted to using the smaller bar up on the sink.
I did discover a few new things about myself, things I hadn't really noticed the previous day, because I never really looked at myself too closely. I think I was afraid of what I might find if I looked at myself in the mirror. To my surprise, though, what I saw wasn't half bad. My original dark hair was back, of course, since the transition did away with the fake blonde coloring, and there were a few little imperfections here and there on my face and body that were gone now. Old scars from picking at scabs as a child, that sort of thing. Interestingly, as I learned when I brushed my teeth, my dental fillings were all still there, just reduced in size like the rest of me. Somehow, those binary particle things in my body (if that's what was really causing all this) were capable of figuring out that the teeth had to be preserved, but false hair coloring could be discarded. Interesting, wouldn't you say?
Anyhow, once I was finished getting ready, I got dressed, picking my new blue jeans, a simple blue pastel blouse, and the tennis shoes I bought the night before. I used an old watchband as a belt, since I didn't have anything else that would work. There was no point in trying to wear any kind of jewelry, so I didn't bother. Keeping my hair bound up also proved too difficult, so I just tied it back with a piece of a twisty tie from my last loaf of bread, hoping nobody would notice the green-colored wire sticking out underneath my short little ponytail.
Something I forgot to shop for was a purse, but fortunately I had one of those smaller handbags that used to be in fashion about a decade ago, so I put what I needed in there. Among the items Kay left me in her "care package" were some feminine products in my size, which I was grateful for. The handbag had little room for normal-sized objects, so I limited myself to just my ID card, a clip with some food vouchers for use as cash, and my cell phone, which probably made up half the weight of the purse. I had to sling the whole bag over my shoulder and haul it around like a backpack, which was annoying, but it was that or nothing.
Once I had all that done, I was running late, and of course the trip to the bus stop took forever, but fortunately I caught one right away. I wasn't the only Stage One on the bus, as it turned out, but I didn't try to sit with them, instead occupying one of the side seats that face inward. I wasn't really in the mood to chat, anyway. The ride seemed to take hours, and I kept worrying about missing my stop, but the driver was kind enough to call them out, so I knew when to get up and head for the door. The handbag was damned unwieldy, too.
Once I got to work, I made my way inside and surprised the guard at the front with my new size. He knew me right away, of course, but hadn't been warned about my transition, so he was all apologetic and concerned. I told him not to worry about it and set about trying to figure out how to attach my gigantic badge to my blouse, deciding in the end just to pin it to the purse and head inside with it like that.
Thank God for elevators, that's all I have to say. Stairs would've been horrible! As it was, I had to use the "poke pole" to punch the button for my floor. See, since the elevator was originally built with the buttons at a normal person's head level, there was no way a Stage One could reach them. So some brainiac on the staff came up with a low-tech solution: a metal rod that we little people could use to poke the button we needed. Somehow it seemed demeaning, but why complain? That was just one of the many things I was going to have to get used to now.
My next challenge was my desk, but my co-workers had already given it a once-over, providing a few helpful changes that would make my life much easier. There were steps up to my chair, and an adapter seat (read: high chair) already in place, as well as smaller versions of the mouse and keyboard I was used to. I still had to pre-place the chair in front of the desk, since I could no longer roll it with my feet, but the alterations made things a whole lot easier.
I spent most of the first hour at work tracking down those responsible and thanking them profusely for their help. Bob Murphy, Heather Campbell, LeAnne Riley and Asa Okira were the culprits, naturally. These were the four people in the office I spent the most time with, and I considered them pretty close to friends, if you want to use that term. We didn't see each other during off hours, but we when we went off on one of our fact-finding trips to research labs, those were the ones I was usually stuck with.
Eventually the five of us wound up in the break room talking about my new size, how I was dealing with it, and all that happy stuff. This wasn't the first time we'd had this conversation with a co-worker, either--Iris Kendall went Stage One a while ago, for example, and shortly thereafter left the group for a more stable desk position. Also, farther back than that, we had Ian Andrews working with us all the way up until he was approaching the Stage Two danger zone. Mostly, the office crew just wanted to reassure me and make me feel at home, which they did, and I felt much better, even if it was weird looking up at them all from my oversized chair.
Remembering what Kay and I discussed the night before, I started wondering if any of them could be trusted with what I'd been told. I couldn't just blurt it all out, of course. Instead, when I went back to my desk, I started quietly poking around on the network, looking for background data that might point me in the right direction. Unfortunately, the public stuff was spotty at best. I knew Bob and LeAnne came to the company within the last couple of years, and Asa and Heather were here before I came on board. Heather, I knew, had several family members go Stage One, including her husband, whom she hoped to join in a mini-city when she finally transitioned. Someone like that didn't seem like the kind of person who'd want to see everybody else in the world shrunk, but for all I knew she had a secret grudge she kept to herself.
This whole secrecy business was damned irritating! How was I supposed to figure out who I could trust? Stupid conspiracies!
Eventually I decided I really couldn't risk talking to any of those who weren't yet changing. Since these mysterious "Conspiracy People" had the ability to suppress the transitions, anyone working for them would surely be normal sized. The promise to keep them that way would be a powerful motivator, wouldn't it?
There was, of course, Iris Kendall, who used to be assigned to one of the traveling groups that visited the various research places. Back then, a few months ago, we had twice as many people on staff and were able to get around more, but those days were fading. Eventually enough of us would have to retire that the whole thing would have to be done by video teleconferencing. In the meantime, personal visits were still the best way to exchange information, especially since it was a whole lot harder for a company's competitors to eavesdrop on a face-to-face meeting. In other words, when we went there personally, they were far more likely to be honest at forthright with us, and that trust was something we'd spent a lot of time building.
Anyway, when Iris went Stage One, she asked for a transfer to one of the analysts' desks, because walking around at our size is a lot more stressful, and her frail body couldn't handle it. She was extremely thin, almost anorexic in fact, but this was due to some kind of genetic defect I never bothered to delve into. The change took its toll on her and she couldn't adjust to having to walk and climb three times as much as she used to.
I decided to pay her a visit and put out some feelers, if only to let her see I'd gone Stage One, and was thus a kindred spirit of sorts. As soon as I had a free moment, I headed down to the Analysis Branch and looked around for her office. This was the part of the building where the research data we'd collected was compared and studied, looking for duplicate efforts and potential avenues for further investigation. If somebody noticed that Company A was working on the same thing Company B already disproved, the Analysis Branch could (and would) send out a warning to that effect.
You've heard that old adage, "Those who can't do, teach," right? For us it was "Those who can't do, and can't teach, evaluate." They even had it up on a sign someplace, but I forget where.
I knocked once when I found the right office, and Iris's faint voice responded immediately. "Come in," she yelled. "It's open."
They'd replaced all the doorknobs in the building with hand levers, so the Stage Ones could pop them open with a quick tug instead of having to struggle to turn a knob well over their heads. I was grateful for this as I entered. "Hi, Iris," I called out to the thin woman in the high chair, perched directly in front of a monitor that must've looked like a movie screen to her. She was wearing proportionally sized eyeglasses, and a simple blouse and skirt, with her feet surprisingly bare. "It's me, Natalie Patterson, in case you can't tell from up there," I added with a familiar grin.
"Oh, it is you!" Iris responded, standing up and clambering down from her seat to reach me. She had a little custom-built staircase and her chair had been permanently attached to the floor, so it couldn't roll around. A pair of sandals waited nearby and she slipped them on before moving to greet me. "So you went Stage One, huh? I was wondering who'd be the next one on the team."
"Well, it was me," I said with a shrug. "I knew it would happen sooner or later. Anyway, I just wanted to stop by and show you I'm part of the club."
Iris chuckled at that. "You're taking it rather well, I see. I had a tougher time, but y'know, it's actually helped me out. My body adjusted better than the doctors thought. I could probably go back out in the field if I wanted, but there's really no reason to at this point. My time's up in three weeks."
"Really? You've been Stage One that long?" I had forgotten when she actually transitioned. I guess it was longer ago than I thought.
"Yeah, I'm afraid so. Well, technically it's a month and a half, but I'm taking some extra time to travel a bit. It's probably the last chance I'll get to see the country, and I have a couple relatives I need to say goodbye to."
"Sorry to hear that," I told her.
"Don't be. It's just part of the process. I've come to terms with it." Iris took my hand supportively. "Look, this is probably for the best, y'know. My mother always told me when life gives you lemons, make lemonade. It's a fresh start, isn't it? Not just for me, but for everyone. We get to reinvent ourselves--humanity, I mean. In twenty years everyone's gonna be small, and everything you see here will be left to fall into ruin. We get to start a whole new society and we can fix all those mistakes we made with this one. What an opportunity!"
I had to smile at her optimism. "I hope I'm that excited when I get closer to my turn," I told her. "For now, though, I'm still focused on getting my job done and hoping to help find a stop to this."
"Oh, don't worry, so am I," she reassured me. "I'm not giving up at all. It'd be wonderful if they found a Solution. If they can do that, I'm convinced there'll be a way to reverse it, too, no matter what the scientists say. Then we could all be big again, if that's what we want."
"What do you mean, if that's what we want?"
She shrugged. "Well, what if we decide we were better off at a smaller size? You never know, it might be the wave of the future." She laughed, and then quickly shook her head. "Nah, nobody would like being that way, unless they had to be, don't you think? I do wish we could stop this, and reverse it, but not until we make that lemonade, y'know?"
I nodded. She had some pretty good points, and gave me some things to ponder. Some of those things, though, made me curious about her true motivations. Did she really want to find a Solution, or didn't she? Maybe she just added the last little bit as an afterthought.
I decided to turn the conversation in a different direction. "I see what you mean," I told her. "You know, I haven't seen much of you since you came down here. Sorry, I should've checked in here and there, but they've been keeping me busy."
"It's okay," she told me. "As I'm sure you've noticed, people treat you differently now that you're Stage One. When I moved down here, I wanted to be alone, and I figured nobody would want to look at me, because I'd just remind them what was gonna happen to them. I was right, too. Mostly I just got ignored, and that was fine with me. I don't mind."
"Even so, I still feel terrible," I admitted. "I shouldn't have just forgotten about you like that."
She shook her head vigorously. "Don't worry about it. I wanted it that way. In fact, although I appreciate your visit, there's no reason you have to start hanging out with me, just because we're the same size. Hint, hint."
"Oh, right, I'm keeping you from your work," I replied, sensing my chance slipping away. I decided to try one more thing before I left. "How are things going, anyhow? Have you learned anything new?"
"Not really," Iris responded with a shrug. "Just what we already knew--the people running these companies are completely retarded. Every time we tell them another research team has already tried something they're working on, it just makes them redouble their efforts. I swear they think our job is to keep them from finding the Solution, rather than help."
I nodded, hoping my surprise at that particular statement didn't show on my face. She hit a little bit close to home with that one. "So nobody has actually found anything that really works?" I asked quickly. "Nothing even remotely like a Solution?"
"Not that they've told us about," said Iris. "Why? Forgive my asking, but that sounded rather like a loaded question."
I hesitated, aware that I'd said the wrong thing, but there was nothing to do then but press on. "Well," I replied carefully, "you probably don't know this, but I have a boyfriend now. His name is Dr. Steven Beck, from the--"
"Ah, yes, Mr. Perfect," she interrupted. "You're going out with him? You lucky little minx! How'd you manage that?"
"Mr. Perfect...?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.
"Yeah, sorry, I have pet names for everybody. Keeps me amused, locked away down here like this all day, y'know? Anyway, I call him that because not only is he drop-dead gorgeous, the stuff he writes is immaculate. Perfect English, expertly organized reports, everything correct down to the last detail, nothing ever left out."
"Yeah, that's my Steven, the perfectionist," I admitted sheepishly. "Anyway, when I went Stage One, I tried to call him, and I hoped he'd come by, but he hasn't yet. He hasn't left the office as far as I know, because something's going on, and I don't know what it is. I was hoping maybe he was stuck there because maybe, just maybe, they were having some luck with their research."
I was probably saying too much, but actually, none of this was really any big secret. Steven had, in fact, sent me an email saying he was stuck at work, and it wasn't too big a leap of logic to think perhaps they'd had some breakthrough. Besides, if Iris was really willing to be an ally, maybe she could be a helpful resource I could tap.
"Well, I haven't heard anything along those lines," she replied after a moment's thought, "so maybe they're keeping it to themselves until they're sure, if that's what's really going on. Why don't you go out there and visit the place? Henderson Science Center, right? Just tell Phil what you told me, and I'm sure he'll send you."
Phil Masterson was my boss, the guy in charge of setting up the various travel teams and their schedules. "Sure, I'd ask him," I replied somewhat sheepishly, "except I was a bit worried about it looking like I was being influenced by the fact that Steven is my boyfriend."
Iris laughed in immediate understanding. "Just don't mention that part. I'm sure he knows all about it, and probably thinks it's helpful you have a boyfriend on the inside over there, y'know? If not, he probably woulda asked you to knock it off long before now. In the meantime, I'll see if I can dig up any data for you. If I find anything, I'll email it, okay?"
"Sure," I replied. "Sounds good, Iris. Thanks a lot. Thanks, and I'll let you get back to your work now."
"Have a good one," she replied, climbing back up to her seat. I watched her go, admiring how easy it was to ascend with the chair permanently welded to the floor like that. I was going to have to make the same arrangement later.
She waved goodbye, and I headed back to my office, wondering if perhaps I had, indeed, found someone I could trust.
After lunch I went to check the schedule to see which places the team was visiting this week. Since I'd already effectively missed two days, seeing as they weren't exactly keen on sending me out my first day back, I wanted to see what I was in for. The hope was that maybe Henderson would be on the list, so I could avoid talking to Dr. Masterson, but no such luck. I figured it was probably too early for that anyway. We had over a hundred places in our zone, and could only get to a dozen or so each week, so HSC wouldn't come up again for a while yet.
Sighing, I made my way to Phil's office and knocked as loudly as I could. In the old days there was a secretary, but we didn't have those kinds of luxuries anymore. "Coming," he called out gruffly, and I could hear him rumbling out from behind his desk, making his way loudly across the office.
Phil Masterson was a heavyset man in his early forties, with long hair and several tattoos running up and down his arms. When I first met the man, several years ago, he was well dressed and kept himself neatly shaven, and was a bit more fit. He'd really let himself go since then, gaining at least fifty pounds, and maybe more. Also, instead of keeping his long hair neatly groomed, or even washed, he let it hang down loosely, rarely bothering to comb it, so it looked like he was wearing a great big dirty brown mop on his head. He also hadn't shaved, giving him a wild, almost feral look. He was, however, firmly committed to keeping the team running, and though I'd heard nearly everyone in the office talk a few times about how hopeless things were, Phil never succumbed to fatalism. He always had a positive attitude, no matter what was going on.
He opened the door and looked around, pretending not to see me. "Who's there?" he asked, swinging his head to and fro so his long hair swirled all about. I knew he was just kidding around, though, so I grinned and let him have his fun. "You damn kids!" he complained. "Always knocking and running away! Why, I oughta call your parents!"
"I'm down here, Phil," I called up to him, waving a couple of times. "It's me, Natalie!"
He pretended to finally notice me and did a pretty good job of looking surprised. "Oh! It's you! Hi there," he said with a chuckle. "You know I'm only teasin', right?"
"Oh, sure I do, silly," I told him. "That's okay, just make all the jokes you want. Next thing you'll be calling me 'short stuff' or 'Nattette.'"
"Hmm, Nattette, that's a good one." He grinned and then motioned me inside his office, turning serious all at once. "Nah, I wouldn't do that to you. Sorry if it's in any way offensive. Just tryin' to make you feel at home, that's all."
"I don't mind, and it really does help." I stepped up onto the chair in front of his desk, not bothering to try to sit. If I did, he wouldn't be able to see me from back there. "Anyway, I've come by because I want to mention something to you, something involving my boyfriend, Dr. Steven Beck."
"Yes, I was wonderin' if that would ever come up," he replied with a smile. "I don't mind who you go out with, Nattette--I mean, Natalie. Heh-heh. We might as well make the best of the time we have, or so I've always thought. Just as long as it don't affect your work."
"No, it's not that. He works at the Henderson Science Center, but I guess you know that."
"Yeah, I knew, and so does everybody else," he said with a laugh. "The rumor mill was talkin' about it as soon as he asked you out."
"I've never tried to hide it, you know."
"Of course. Do go on."
"Well," I continued, trying to decide just how much I wanted to reveal, "Dr. Beck--Steven, I mean--hasn't come to see me since I transitioned. I did hear from him, though, and he promised to come by, but he hasn't called or emailed since."
Phil sighed and shook his head. "Sorry to hear that," he said sincerely, automatically assuming the worst. "Not a lot of relationships survive Stage One, y'know."
"That's not what I mean," I replied, trying not to get irritated, because he was already drawing the wrong conclusion. "Look, he would come to me, if he could, but I think something's going on there. The message I received said he was busy with some project, and I was thinking, maybe it was--"
He shook his head and interrupted me. "Look, Natalie," he said, scratching at his scruffy beard, "I've seen this before. Many times. This is a terrible thing to say, I know, but he probably doesn't wanna have to deal with you, now that you're Stage One, but he don't wanna admit it."
"That's not Steven!" I insisted. I wanted to tell him more, to talk about what Kay and I discussed, and the hidden message in the email, but that was out of the question, so without anything to back it up, I had no way to prove something else was happening. That left me with no leg to stand on, as it were.
"It may not be quite that way," Phil went on. "He may just be tryin' to work out his feelings, and decide what to do next. Ask yourself this: if he'd been the one who went Stage One, what would you be thinkin' about, in terms of your relationship?"
I started to snap off a reply, but that one actually made me stop and think for a moment. What if it had been Steven, and not me? How would I have reacted? Would I have just made a clean break of it, or tried to stick it out? I knew I loved him, or at least I thought I did, but...was that enough? I just didn't know.
Of course, unless this was some tremendously elaborate subterfuge, it wasn't about Steven dumping me. I couldn't exactly say that to Phil, though. Instead, I resorted to something else, something I didn't really like, but had little alternative at this point. "I get what you're saying," I said as calmly as I could, "but I won't believe it until I see it for myself. Besides, if there really is something going on, something important, you wouldn't want us to miss it, would you?"
"Well, whaddaya want me to do?" he asked, and almost as quickly as he said that, the realization showed on his face. "Oh, I see, you want me to add the Henderson Science Center to the schedule, dontcha? So you can confront the good Dr. Beck in public."
"No, that's not what I want! Come on, Phil, you know I wouldn't resort to that. Yes, I want to talk to him, but I'll do it on my own time. I really think we need to investigate them a little more closely."
"And if you happen to find a moment to corner Dr. Beck while you're there, so much the better, right?"
"I'd rather see him privately," I insisted. "Not at the office. But they're making him work overtime, so he can't talk to me at all. If that's true, the only way I can find out is to go there, and I'd rather do that in an official capacity, if at all possible."
Phil drummed his fingers on the table for a moment and looked at me, remaining silent for several moments while I got more and more uncomfortable. Finally, he said, "Look, Natalie, under normal circumstances there ain't no way I'd agree to this. I want you to understand that. You're puttin' me in a very bad position and settin' an equally bad precedent."
"Yes, I know, and I'm sorry," I said as sincerely as I could.
"On the other hand," he went on, turning to his computer momentarily, "before you knocked on my door, I was readin' a very interestin' internal memo from someone down in Analysis. Apparently a certain company has been a bit sloppy in their regular daily report submissions. It seems that one person's reports, in particular, haven't been up to their usual standards."
At this point I was trying my best not to start smiling like a regular Cheshire cat. "If it's who I think it is, I can see how that would be cause for concern," I pointed out.
"Yes, well, I happen to agree, and so I'm puttin' the Henderson Science Center on the schedule. You'll be going out there tomorrow, first thing in the morning. Does that meet with your approval?"
"Oh, yes, sir! Absolutely! And thank you, Phil. I really do appreciate it."
"I bet you do. Just remember, you owe me one. Now get outta here so I can get some work done."
I hurried out, before he could change his mind. He wasn't the only one I owed a favor to now, of course. I hadn't been able to look at that internal memo Phil mentioned, which Iris most certainly sent, but I seriously doubted she just made up the details. If Steven was in the habit of sending reports out to the Committee, and his latest ones weren't up to his usual standards, well, that just meant he was sending a warning in the only way he could. He wanted us to take notice, and he wanted to give me an excuse to go out to Henderson as soon as possible.
What was going on out there? I didn't know for sure, but maybe I'd learn more about it tomorrow. That's what I was hoping, anyway.
I left work a bit early, mainly because there wasn't much for me to do, seeing as the rest of the team had gone out on the day's touring and left me back at the office. Apparently Phil wasn't going to send me out with the others my very first day on the job at Stage One. Instead, I spent the afternoon getting used to what the office was like at my new size, getting my workspace set up the way I liked it, and chatting endlessly with well-wishers who wanted to make sure I felt comfortable.
I got a call from Kay after I got home, and we met for dinner later on, but the conversation was for the most part uninteresting. I let her know I'd be at Henderson tomorrow, and she told me she'd learned nothing much at the office. Everyone there seemed to be doing their jobs normally, and she'd spoken with Steven several times, but only in passing, never so as to reveal there were any secrets between them. The only big surprise was the sudden departure of Dr. Kleinmann, who cited health reasons in his resignation. As Kay pointed out, that made no sense at all, as Hans had spent months there on the very brink of death, and wasn't about to abandon his job at the very moment he finally made his big breakthrough. She felt like something else must've happened, but wasn't able to find out what, at least not yet.
Even so, none of the other people seemed to be talking about that particular incident, and Kay was afraid to dig too deeply. She was just a staff doctor, after all, not a scientist, so she wasn't supposed to have any interest in such things. On the few occasions she talked to Steven, he would blink rapidly when saying certain things, and after a little experimentation, Kay concluded that blinking meant he was deliberately lying. That was typical of Steven, she told me, to come up with some way to speak in code on the fly, something they'd done as children to communicate between themselves while their parents might be listening. I had to smile at that and wonder just what kind of mischief those two got into that required such things. Something to ask him about later, I suppose.
Anyway, using the blink-code as her guide, Kay felt certain her brother was being watched all the time, and was clearly under duress. Nonetheless, helpful as that was, she couldn't get any other details about what was going on, leaving her (and I) more than a little bit frustrated.
I left that meeting hoping Steven would somehow mysteriously show up at my apartment, having eluded his pursuers, like some kind of spy or something, but that never happened. Instead, I eventually fell asleep alone on my oversized (and therefore quite comfortable) couch, in the middle of watching some old black and white movie on late-night TV. Except for news, that's about all they showed anymore--old repeats. I missed new programming, and a lot of other things too, and I dreamed that night I was normal sized, and young, and enjoying all those long-gone moments I can never have again.
The next morning I was eager to get going. I hurried off to work, dressed as nicely as I could, and with as much perfume as I dared to use at my size. Once there I had to wait anxiously for the shuttle bus to show up so we could take off, and then I had to sit through the interminably long ride to the Henderson Science Center. The rest of my associates were all on the bus with me, chatting idly about various things, and poking fun at how much I was fidgeting in my seat. They all knew, of course, that while they were going to be checking up on the HSC, I was really here to see Steven.
When we got there, we were ushered into the usual conference room, where they treated us to the typical welcome breakfast of donuts and coffee. I had a small chunk of Bob's chocolate éclair, seeing as I wasn't hungry enough for an entire pastry, and sipped a tiny bit of java while we waited. The head of the Center was there, Dr. Emmett Richardson, and he exchanged pleasantries while I waited in my high chair, wondering where Steven was.
After a few minutes he and a couple of the other department heads finally showed up. Steven was talking quietly to a dark-haired woman I vaguely remembered was named Monica, and I recalled that Kay told me someone by that name was supposedly one of the spies interfering with research at the Center. She was tall, almost as tall as Steven, wearing a sharp business suit that made her look very professional, especially since she also sported glasses and had her hair tied back very carefully. Her mouth was a thin line set in a disappointed frown. Whatever he was telling her, she clearly didn't like at all.
Steven spotted me at once and swallowed heavily, looking quite uncomfortable, and gave a weak wave. I responded in kind and smiled, trying to divine what might be going on in his head, but he wouldn't give me any other sign. Instead he just remained calm and collected while everybody tried to get comfortable with each other.
It's interesting sometimes how social groups congregate, especially when some of them are hiding something and the others are trying to find out what it is, yet somehow they all manage to completely avoid the subject. I suppose I could've joined in the verbal fencing, but all I wanted to do was talk to Steven alone. He must've felt the same way, because he eventually excused himself and headed for the door. I immediately jumped out of my chair and followed him out, and nobody tried to stop us.
He didn't wait for me, but appeared to be trying to make a clean getaway. He was mostly down the hall when I called out to him. "Steven!" I had to yell. "Wait! I want to talk to you, dammit!"
He turned and shook his head, kneeling down so his head was at my level. "Natty," he said quietly, "I'm so sorry I didn't call. I just couldn't. I kept thinking about you...but I was afraid you were mad, because I wasn't there when...when you went Stage One."
I listened, but at the same time I watched his face, and he was blinking rapidly. That was the code Kay told me about, that indicated he wasn't telling the truth. "Steven," I told him, "I miss you so much! Please, I'm not mad, just talk to me. What's going on?"
"Nothing's going on," he replied, again blinking several times, and put his huge hands on my shoulders. "I just...I do love you, Natty, I really do." He didn't blink that time, but started again right away. In addition to that, he ran his huge hands up and down my sides, trying to comfort me, and making a clumsy effort of it. "I just can't see you anymore, that's all. Work is, um, taking up all of my time now. You understand, right?"
I knew he was lying, but hearing those words still cut pretty deep. The tears that ran down my face just then weren't faked. We were both putting on a show, both for whoever was watching, and for each other. "I guess I knew this was coming," I said weakly, doing a little blinking myself, in between the tears. "I understand, Steven. I figured as much. I hope you're happy with your job."
"Please, Natty, don't make this any harder than it has to be," he managed to get out. He wasn't crying, because men like him seldom let themselves cry, but he was getting pretty choked up, and trying like hell to hide it. "I wish we could've found the Solution in time, and maybe this wouldn't have to happen. Please, don't try to call me. I just want this over. Goodbye, Natalie."
"G-goodbye, Steven," I half-whispered, as he stood and strode away. I sank to my knees for a moment, overcome with emotion, and I wasn't faking that, either. I could tell he was choking on his words, forcing them out, and that was because he was afraid, but of what I didn't know. He was being coerced, somehow, by somebody, and pretending to cut me loose was his attempt to save me.
There was nothing I could do but go along with it. Seeing Steven like this, and feeling his powerful hands on me, without being able to respond, was nothing short of torture. As much as I wanted to throw myself at him, and I'm pretty sure he felt the same, I just couldn't. That would endanger us both.
I took a minute to compose myself, moving my fingers over my shoulders, where Steven had held me, and I shut my eyes. For a moment I could imagine him lifting me off the ground, and carrying me off to safety like some great big handsome prince. The stuff of delusions, of course, and I let my hands drop back down to my sides, and that's when I noticed the little piece of paper stuck to my blouse.
At first I thought it was a sales label I'd missed, because this was a new garment I was wearing, but no, it was a small fragment of one of those Post-it notes, stuck just above my waist. I was about to crumple it up when I noticed tiny writing there. Steven's handwriting!
For a second my heart soared, and then I remembered I was supposed to be playing a part. I quickly rolled my eyes and balled up the paper in my hand. Pretending to look around for a wastebasket, I instead shoved the trash into my handbag, ostensibly for later disposal. Then I slunk back into the conference room, crawled my way up into the high chair and did my best to look sullen.
The meeting broke up shortly thereafter and we went on the usual tour of the facility, gathering data and all that, basically going through the motions. The people we talked to gave us no new information at all, but everything seemed to be normal. Nobody was tied up or held at gunpoint. There was, however, absolutely no mention of Dr. Kleinmann's research, and since his departure the day before, nobody was even pursuing his efforts any further, as far as I could tell.
I spent most of the rest of the trip wondering what was on the note, but I didn't dare read it, at least not with anybody watching. I didn't even try looking at it while we were on the bus, either. Instead, I waited until I could use the washroom at our next stop, and then, in the privacy of my own stall, I unrolled the little piece of paper and had a look. This is what it said, written so small even I could only barely read it. I still wonder how Steven was able to get it on the paper without anybody noticing.
Nattie,
We found the Solution, but someone beat us to it. They've had their own Solution for years, and they're hiding it from the rest of the world. If we talk about it, they'll kill us like they did Dr. Kleinmann. I've been compiling his research onto a minidisc, which I'll hide in my office, in plain sight. Find it, and give it to someone you can trust.
They're using you as leverage against me, so I have to send you away. I don't want to, but if I don't, they'll hurt you more than they already have. Whatever happens, know that I still love you. When this is all over, I hope we can be together, but if not, remember me fondly.
Love,
Steven
I was glad I was somewhere alone when I read that, because it set me to crying again. Everything Kay told me was true! They had a Solution and they wouldn't let the rest of the world have it. They killed poor Hans Kleinmann, too, just to protect that information. Worse, I was being used as a weapon against Steven! They must've threatened to hurt me if he didn't do what they told him to.
Damn it, this was my fault! If we hadn't gotten together, he could be free to turn over the research to whoever he wanted to, or at least act against whoever these people were, but now he couldn't. As long as I was at risk, he'd be trapped.
So what could I do? I couldn't just sit there all day, much as I liked the idea, so I dried my eyes and went back to work, pretending as best I could like nothing had happened. The rest of the day, though, all I could do was think about this horrible situation I was in. I felt like I should run away, maybe even turn myself over to one of the Transition Centers, but who knows how far these Conspiracy People could reach? As long as I had some freedom, maybe I could find a place to hide.
I didn't like that option, either. I've never been someone who runs away from her problems. Besides, running away would only leave me in the dark about what was really going on, and it wouldn't solve the overall issue at hand--which was, of course, that there was a Solution out there somewhere. Someone had found it, and was willing to kill to keep it secret, if Steven's remark about poor Hans Kleinmann was correct. I had no doubt that it was.
So these people would kill...why hadn't they killed Steven, then, and anyone else who'd seen Dr. Kleinmann's research? Why risk letting them live? That didn't make a lot of sense, but I wasn't in any mood to complain. As long as he was alive, and I was free to do what I wanted, maybe we could still do something.
No, I wasn't going to run. I'd already decided that. I was going to try to stop these people in any way I could. I was already Stage One, so it wasn't going to help me that much, but everyone else who was still normal deserved a chance to stay that way.
Steven had even told me what to do. He said he'd made a disc and hidden it somewhere in plain sight, in his office. I had to smile at that. He was so fond of these little puzzles, and he knew I'd know that...but nobody else would. None of the Conspiracy People, anyway. If I knew Steven, he'd put it somewhere right under their noses, so they had no idea what they were even looking at. All I had to do was figure out how to get into his office, alone, and find the damn thing...then get it out of the building undetected. No, that wouldn't be hard at all...
Still, I was going to have to try. I had no idea what I was going to do, but I'd figure something out.
Of course, I didn't want anyone finding the note Steven left me, so I tore it into pieces and scattered the remains in several different wastebaskets, a little bit at a time. I was getting better at this spy business, I told myself.
When we got back to the office, I called Kay and asked if she'd like to grab some dinner somewhere. In case anyone was listening in, I let myself get a little distraught on the phone. She asked if something was wrong, and I told her I'd explain when we got together. She suggested an Oriental place I knew about, and said she could be there in an hour, so I agreed and hung up the phone. That gave me a little bit of time to waste, so I busied myself with some end-of-day reports and so forth.
The rest of the crew trickled out one by one, each stopping by to make sure I was going to be able to get home by myself. Of course I was, I told them, pretending to be grateful for their concern, but inwardly a bit irritated. Not at them, mind you, but my new size, and how I was losing my independence. The situation with Steven didn't help matters either. Everywhere I looked, I felt constrained and restricted, and that wasn't a good feeling at all.
I was finally getting ready to leave and I saw my boss Phil walk by. He was here late, obviously, and was apparently keeping an eye on me, probably to make sure I got onto the bus safely. I sighed. More concern for my welfare that I just didn't need. I saw at once that I couldn't get out without passing him, so a conversation was inevitable.
"Evening, Dr. Masterson," I said as I walked up, lugging my backpack-like handbag slung over my right shoulder. "I suppose I should thank you for letting me have a chance to talk to Steven."
"I heard some of what happened," he replied sadly. "Sorry, Natalie, I was really hopin' I wasn't right about that."
"It's been hard to think about anything else all day," I admitted, although of course that was for a different reason than I was telling him. "Maybe it's for the best. I'm afraid I wasn't much use during the rest of that particular tour. Did any of the rest of the team learn anything?"
"Maybe," he replied mysteriously. "Would you come into my office for a minute? I'd like to discuss that with you a bit more."
"Sure," I agreed, following him down the hall. What was this all about, I wondered? Did the team actually find something, and keep it to themselves?
Once in his room, I set down my handbag and climbed into the seat as I had earlier in the day. He stooped over behind his desk and stood back up, holding what I thought was an oversized cell phone with one of those old-style whip antennas sticking out of it. He fiddled with this for a moment until it emitted a barely audible whine, then set it down on the desk and turned back to me. "You got any idea what this is?" he inquired in his usual lazy drawl, settling back down into his seat.
"No, sir," I replied, standing up on my tiptoes and trying to get a better look at the thing. Short of climbing onto his desk, I couldn't really see much more, and I wasn't about to do that. I still had some dignity, after all. If he wanted me to see it, he could damn well hold it down in front of me.
"Well, that's somethin'," he replied. "Those morons ain't completely incompetent, then." He shook his head, causing his long hair to flutter about, until one stringy lock landed over his right eye. Brushing this away absently, he regarded me again. "When you started goin' out with Dr. Beck, I thought it might cause problems," he continued, tapping his fingers on the desk and glancing over at the strange device out of the corner of his eye. "But no, they said it might work out in our favor. Then today you came in here and told me there might be somethin' going on at Henderson, and not only that, you spoke to someone in Analysis about it too. I'm afraid that's unacceptable."
"W-what are you talking about?" I asked worriedly. A cold chill was running up and down my spine and I was starting to think very seriously about running out of the room as fast as my little legs could carry me. Something told me that would be futile, though. Even overweight as Phil was, he could easily outpace me.
"You're too damn curious for your own good, that's what I'm talkin' about," Dr. Masterson went on, and now his voice was becoming noticeably menacing. "You're askin' too many questions and stirrin' up trouble, Natalie. I'm afraid we can't just let you roam around anymore, causin' all sorts of problems."
"I don't understand," I argued, clinging to the last desperate hope that perhaps playing dumb might somehow get me out of this. "What's going on?"
He smiled and stood up again, glancing once more at the device on his desk, which would've worried me a lot more if he weren't glaring down at me with a singularly wicked look in his eye. "What's goin' on," he explained, "is that I'm gonna put a stop to your meddlin'. You should feel lucky, Natalie. Some of us thought it'd be better just to kill you, but you're too valuable as a carrot for a certain lovesick scientist."
"B-but...Steven and I...we broke up," I struggled to say as convincingly as I could. "Whatever you're planning, he doesn't want me!"
"I don't care what he said when you two got together today," chuckled Phil. "He probably thought he was protectin' you, or some sentimental bullshit like that. What an idiot! The next time he sees you, he's gonna get the surprise of his life, and I'm pretty sure after that he'll be putty in our hands."
"W-what do you mean?" I stammered. "W-what are you going to do?"
He looked back at the strange phone-like thing on his desk and smiled again. "It's already done," he told me ominously, closing the lid and sliding the device into a drawer. "Now, here's what I want you to do now, my little Nattette. I want you to calmly and quietly walk out to your desk, and get on your computer, and write a nice letter explainin' why you're resignin' your position and not comin' back to work. I'll even help you collect all your personal items and take 'em to your apartment. On the way, I'll explain everythin' else you need to know, and where we go from here."
By this point I pretty much knew I was screwed, but rather than break down or cower in fear, I instead found myself getting angry. He was one of them! One of the Conspiracy People! This was someone I knew for years, someone I'd worked with, and trusted, and now he was going to kidnap me and use me directly against Steven! How--how dare he!
"I'm not quitting!" I shouted, hopping down from the chair and collecting my handbag. I'm afraid I was getting rightly pissed off just then, and I let it show in my voice and angry shouting, pathetic as it must've seemed, coming from a two-foot-high woman using a purse for a backpack. "If you're going to do something to me, just do it, but I'm not writing any resignation letter! You're going to have to figure out some way to explain this, you big fat bastard!"
He stomped out from behind the desk, towering over me in the doorway. There was nowhere to run, so all I could do was stare up at him and try not to quiver in terror. "Okay, we can do it the hard way," he replied, cracking his knuckles in anticipation. "You know, Nattette, it pains me to do this. I always did like you. Especially those fine little legs of yours. In fact, I'm really looking forward to--"
A new wave of horror passed through me as he said that, but even as I contemplated bolting in sheer desperation, I heard a woman's voice echoing along the corridor. "Natalie?" she yelled faintly, calling from around the corner of the hall. "Are you still here?"
Instantly I leapt at the opportunity. "I'm over here!" I yelled at the top of my lungs. "By Phil Masterson's office!"
Before Phil could react to this, my rescuer came around the corner. To my great surprise, it was Iris Kendall! "Oh, good, you didn't leave yet!" she hollered, moving towards me with a friendly smile, totally unaware that anything odd was going on. "Since it was your first day at Stage One, I thought you might want to chat about how everything went. You don't mind, do you?"
"No, not at all!" I said breathlessly. "In fact, I was just leaving. Come on, you can walk me to the door!"
"Sure, no problem," she agreed, looking a bit surprised as I hurried quickly out of the hallway, with Phil glaring behind me as we left. "Night, Phil!" I called off after him, wondering what he might do. If he wanted, he could grab us both, but that would mean having to explain the disappearance of two people, not one.
Fortunately, he hesitated a bit too long, and once we were around the corner, it was too late. He did say one more thing as I left, though. "Night, Natalie," he called loudly, voice still dark and menacing. "I'll be seein' you later, I can promise you that!"
"What was that all about?" asked Iris as I all but ran to the elevator. "Are you two not getting along?"
"He's just annoyed at me, that's all," I explained, not really wanting to involve Iris in this whole escapade. Oh, sure, I could've explained the whole thing, since I was pretty sure by this point she wasn't involved in the conspiracy, but if I did, I could be putting her in danger too. Instead, I hit the ground floor button with the poke stick and waited nervously for the door to shut, still expecting at any moment to see a pissed-off Phil race around the corner at full speed. He didn't show up, though, and the doors shut with a clunk, finally allowing me to relax.
"Annoyed about what?" Iris asked curiously.
"Well, I took your advice," I told her, deciding to give a slightly modified version of the truth, "and asked if we could go visit Henderson. We did, but we found nothing, and all I got was a nice dumping by my boyfriend. When Phil heard that was the only reason I'd asked to go there, he wasn't at all happy with me. I got a good chewing out, that's all."
"Oh, dear," said Iris worriedly, "I'm really sorry to hear that. I did look into their records, you know, and something seemed odd, so I told him so...that's probably why he let you go there today. I feel like this is my fault, as much as it is yours. Tell you what, I'll take a closer look at what the team picked up today, and we'll see what I can find, all right?"
"No, don't do that!" I insisted, perhaps a bit too roughly. I'd already gotten myself in big trouble doing that very thing, and I didn't want Iris meeting the same fate I almost did. "Just let it go, please! It's bad enough he's mad at me, okay?"
"All right, fine," she replied. "If there's anything I can do..."
"No, there isn't," I told her, even as the elevator doors slid open. Again I half expected to be met by an angry Phil or perhaps someone else he'd alerted via the phone or intercom, but the hall was all but deserted. "Tell you what, I can make it out of here myself. I'll be back to work tomorrow, I promise you. I have no intention of doing anything other than come back here, just in case you're wondering. I'm not quitting or anything like that."
"Sure, whatever," she replied, cocking her head to the side as if to indicate she didn't really understand what I was getting at. I wanted her to be sure I intended to return, though, just in case something happened to me later this evening.
"Okay, thanks, Iris!" I said, hurrying away. "I appreciate it! See you tomorrow!"
"Bye, I guess," she called out, waving and not trying to follow. The elevator door shut and the last thing I saw on her narrow face was a dumbfounded expression. She must've thought I was going crazy.
I was in such a hurry I almost forgot to drop off my badge, but I stopped and tossed it in the hamper. The guard waved at me as I scurried off, making no attempt to stop me. He probably thought I was trying to catch the bus, but really I just wanted to get the hell out of that building. I took off running as soon as I got past the overgrown hedge, and didn't stop until I'd gone an extra block past my usual bus stop. I stopped there, panting and gasping for breath, taking cover in a shadowed corner of a doorway in desperate fear that I'd been followed.
Several minutes passed while I caught my breath and recovered, but no one came after me. Whatever Phil was planning to do, it must've been something he was doing by himself. He didn't have any minions or cronies available to intercept me, and that at least gave me a chance.
But a chance for what? I couldn't go home now, I was sure, and coming back to work tomorrow was probably also out of the question. I hadn't even really thought about what I was going to do now, in all my haste to escape, but as the adrenaline slowed and my mind returned to normal, I started trying to figure something out, and reality came crashing down on me like the proverbial ton of bricks.
Phil was in on it! He was my boss, the one sending out the investigation teams, and coordinating all our efforts! He was on the Committee, for God's sake! How many more of the Committee members were conspirators? What if they all were? How deep did this go...?
They couldn't all be Conspiracy People, I told myself. There had to just be a few, here and there, in a position to monitor our efforts and report any advancement towards finding the Solution. If it was the whole Committee, they just wouldn't bother with any subterfuge at all. They wouldn't have to fake any analysis or meetings or any of that. Just fire the ones of us not in on their conspiracy, and that would be that.
As for me, I was going to have to find a place to hide, some way to work against them in secret, from the shadows. Go underground, in other words. They needed me alive, to use against Steven, for reasons I still didn't understand; but if I could get away, and prove to him I was beyond their reach, maybe then he could do something to stop them.
Since I couldn't go home, that really left me only one option, and that was to find Kay and let her know what was going on. She was the only one I could trust, after all. Fortunately, we already had a meeting planned, so I took the route transfer I needed and rode on to the Oriental place. There was a chance Phil had somehow listened in on my phone call, but that seemed a bit too paranoid--if they had the resources to bug my cell, it would've been child's play to stop me any of a hundred times before this. Since there weren't a half-dozen men in black overcoats waiting for me at the next bus stop, I reasoned they had no idea what I was up to right now.
As I got off the bus I felt a momentary wave of dizziness, and I had to stop and catch my breath. The events of the day had obviously left my poor little body overwhelmed. I needed food, obviously, even if I didn't feel all that hungry. I started to go inside, but even as I did, someone in the nearby alley called my name. "Natalie!" the woman's voice called out. "Over here!"
I glanced that way, feeling a surge of fear, only to see it was Kay. I moved in that direction cautiously. "What are you doing out here?" I asked as I got closer.
"Don't go in there," she insisted. "I don't think it's safe."
"You're telling me!" I agreed at once, following her into the darkness. "You won't believe what happened to me after I last talked to you."
"Well, tell me while we move," she replied, sounding more than a little worried. I filled her in on what Phil had said, even as we scurried along the back alley, keeping in the shadows. I kept expecting to get attacked by giant rats or something worse, but we were alone. Eventually we emerged on the other side of the block, where we quickly caught another bus. Kay spent a moment examining the route map posted inside, nodded, and ushered us to the back, where we took a seat well away from anyone else.
"That sounds about right," she told me once I'd finished my story. "Steven sent me another message. He said he thought you were in danger, because of some threat they made. They were going to make an example of you, to prove to him they mean business."
I was close to tears again. "This is horrible!" I whined. "Why are they doing this, Kay? What are they making Steven do?"
"He still hasn't told me that," Kay explained. "They're making him continue with Dr. Kleinmann's research, though, I know that much. I just don't know why. It doesn't make any sense, when you think about it. Why keep researching the cause of the shrinking effect, if you already know what it is, and how to stop it?"
"I wish I knew," I replied, shaking my head, and not just from confusion, either. I was getting dizzy again, and my hands were starting to twitch. I hadn't eaten since lunch, and obviously I needed food badly. "Where are we going, anyway?"
"To my aunt's," Kay replied. "You can't very well go home, now can you? My aunt went Stage Three a while ago, and her house has been empty ever since. There's no electricity or anything, but you can survive without that until we figure out what to do next. There's no way anyone will find you there."
"Good thinking," I told her. "How much further? I feel like I'm ready to faint."
"Not very far," she replied. "We take this next stop, transfer to a southbound bus, and it's only a few blocks."
I nodded, but didn't reply. The dizziness wasn't going away this time, and my vision seemed to be wavering. When the bus stopped, Kay had to help me down the steps, and I only barely made it to the curb. My knees were wobbling so bad I had to lie down, where I began to shiver, even though it wasn't the least bit cold.
"Geez, Natalie, are you okay?" Kay asked worriedly, finally able to see me in the fading sunlight, and not in the shadowed back seats of the bus. "You look pale as a ghost. What's going on?"
"I don't know," I gasped. "I feel dizzy...and I'm starting to tingle all over. I haven't eaten...but I'm not really hungry, just really light-headed."
"You're not hungry at all? Are you sure?" She sounded really worried now, but I was starting to slip away and wasn't really caring all that much.
"I'm...I'm sure," I whispered. "Kay, w-what's...happening...to...?"
The last thing I remember seeing was her face leaning over me, an awestruck expression on her face. "It sounds like--but it can't be," she was saying, almost as if she were talking to herself. "It's not possible! It's too early! It's just not possible...!"
Then everything went dark.
I don't remember anything about that night. Later I was told I was quite restless, crying out and moving around a lot, and suffering from nightmares, but I don't recall any of that. The next thing that happened, as far as I was concerned, was I jerked myself awake and found myself in complete darkness.
Well, not complete, as there were some fuzzy lights floating around, but nothing I could focus on. I was also cold and soaked in sweat, but someone had put a coarse blanket over me, so I huddled in that for a few moments, trying to control my shivering.
I was having trouble taking deep breaths, too. I could only suck in short, halting gasps for a couple of minutes, until I became fully awake. My heart was racing for some reason, probably one of those nightmares I didn't recall having, and it took a few minutes of concentration and relaxing to finally recover to a point where I felt all right.
What was that all about? I probably should've known, or at least suspected, but I think I blocked the possibility out of my head entirely. My vision was starting to return and I realized I was somewhere wide open, with a lot of space all around. I stood, letting the blanket slip slightly, and the chill on my skin told me I was naked. The last time I woke up in the buff was...
No, I told myself, instantly rejecting the possibility. There was no way that could've happened already! Even if Kay did suggest something of the sort, when she made that comment about it being too early. Even if I did feel exactly the same when I collapsed, just as I had right before I went Stage One.
I clutched the blanket closer and started forward, holding my right arm out like a blind person, because I wasn't really sure if I was going to bump into anything or not. There were objects in front of me, in strange shapes, that might or might not have been pieces of furniture. I moved towards one, reaching for it, and suddenly my fingers touched something solid--a wall I couldn't see. I ran my hand up along it, feeling its cold smoothness, and realized it was glass.
I followed the wall and came to a corner. The glass continued for a bit and then I came to another corner. On the floor, now that my vision was clearing, I could see there was a black rim indicating the wall's borders. The rim created what looked like a roughly rectangular area that defined the glass prison I was in.
Except it wasn't a prison. I already knew what it was, even though I refused to believe it. It just wasn't possible, as Kay had already said, just a few moments ago as far as my memory told me. There was no way this could happen. People went months before the next phase of their transition...didn't they?
That was what I'd always been told. That's what I always believed, up until now.
My eyes were starting to adjust better, and the objects behind the glass were starting to come into focus. A lamp, an ashtray, a pen, a few scattered decorations that would've appeared in an aquarium...like the one I was now trapped inside. I recognized all of those things for what they were, but they were huge, far bigger than I could've ever imagined possible.
Somehow, in just a few days, I'd gotten a lot smaller. I was Stage Two already, even though that just couldn't be. Nobody went through the Stages that quickly. The body had to have time to adjust, to recover, to get used to the change and prepare for the next phase of the transition.
Didn't it...?
I guess not, because there was no question I was smaller. The items on the desk, behind the towering walls of glass, were real. My vision was now clear and sharp, and unless someone went to a tremendous amount of trouble to create gigantic fakes, that was a real pen out there, complete with nibble marks from where someone once held it in their teeth. The ashtray even had stains from giant cigarettes now long gone.
I was smaller. Stage Two. Doll size. There was no doubt about it. Worse, I was trapped in someone's aquarium, and naked besides, except for the blanket that I now realized was just someone's handkerchief.
Well, perhaps not completely naked, I thought, noticing a little pile of black fabric off to one side of the otherwise empty floor. I moved over to the cloth and picked it up, regarding it doubtfully. Unless I missed my guess, this was a chunk of dark nylon hosiery someone had tried to carefully cut and stitch in such a way that it could be worn like a bodysuit.
There was nothing else to do but try it on. It was rough and itchy at first, and it clung to me in the way nylons do, but it fit all right. My arms were left bare and it only came down to the level of my thighs, but it was warm and I figured I could get used to it. Plus, it wasn't see-through, although it didn't really hide much. I hoped someone like Phil would never see me in this.
As I tried it on, a couple more clumps of fabric fell out, and I found these had been cut and stitched to resemble socks. They fit fine and held themselves on without too much effort on my part, so I figured they'd do. Better than walking around in bare feet, I supposed, though I'd have to be careful not to slip.
After I finished getting dressed in the makeshift outfit, I started looking around the interior of the aquarium. There was no lid up top, as someone seemed pretty sure I couldn't escape easily. I tried jumping, wondering if my lighter body might let me leap higher, and I could jump quite a bit higher than I expected, but not nearly far enough. The handkerchief wasn't enough material to create a platform to stand on, either, even wadded up into as big a ball I could arrange. So I was stuck.
I did feel good, though. In fact, I felt far better than I could ever remember feeling. Now that the initial wooziness had passed, I found I was almost bursting with energy. I ran back and forth the length of the aquarium floor a few times, doing wind sprints and sliding along in my stocking feet, but barely felt tired at all. For whatever reason, this latest transition hadn't weakened me--it made me feel stronger than ever. I almost felt like I could just punch my way out of this glass trap I was in, although of course that would be silly.
I was actually considering trying it, though, when I heard a thumping sound from elsewhere in the house. Someone was moving around somewhere out there! I headed to the wall in the direction of the noise, not bothering to try to hide. Whoever this was knew I was in the aquarium because they'd put me there, so what was the point? I might as well see what it was they wanted.
I suppose I should've felt afraid, seeing as I was now totally helpless, but I really didn't. There I was, trapped without any chance of escape, in an unknown house I didn't recognize, totally in someone else's power, but I didn't feel any fear at all. I wanted to see who it was, and find out what they wanted, and maybe figure out some way to escape so I could get back to helping Steven save the world.
It was the wild energy rushing through me, of course, but I didn't care. That's how I felt and nothing else mattered. So I waited, hands flat on the glass in anticipation, wondering who I'd see walk through the doorway far, far away on the other side of the vast room I was in.
A woman's face peered around the corner. "Are you up yet?" she asked loudly, and then she smiled, and I felt a surge of relief rush through me, because it was none other than Kaylee Gutierrez. "Oh, you are! About time! I thought you were going to sleep all morning!"
She walked into the room, and she just kept getting bigger and bigger as she drew ever closer. Once she got near enough, she climbed onto a stool and leaned over to peer in at me. I stepped back as her massive face halted just a few inches away from the glass, at almost exactly eye level with me.
She was so gigantic! I couldn't believe the difference just one transition made. Sure, I was doll sized, but she was still Stage One, so it shouldn't have been quite so dramatic, right?
"Kay!" I yelled, instinctively realizing I was going to have to raise my voice to be heard. "What happened? I though it wasn't possible to transition again so soon!"
"It's not!" she replied loudly. The voice was the same, just ramped up a couple of octaves so it sort of boomed through the air. "It's not supposed to be, anyway! Are you okay, Natalie? You look fine, but I wasn't sure you were going to make it, and then you just kept on shrinking...oh, please forgive me for putting you in there! I was afraid you might stumble around and fall off the table, so I fetched an old aquarium of my aunt's. Do you want out?"
"Yes, please!" I called out. "But what did you mean, I kept shrinking...?"
I probably needn't have asked, but that was another thing about this that my conscious mind had sort of rejected as a possibility, even with the evidence so plain all around me. The objects on the desk, for example, were way bigger than they should've been, and Kay was a lot more than just three times larger than I was. I should've known this right off the bat, but I just refused to accept it.
Until, that is, her hand reached down into the aquarium and plucked me off the floor like I was nothing at all. Then she held me up to her face, grinning, and I realized I wasn't just doll sized--I was doll sized to her! And she wasn't a normal sized person, either. She was already Stage One!
That could only mean one thing, no matter how impossible it seemed. I wasn't just Stage Two--I'd skipped right by that part entirely.
I'd gone all the way to Stage Three!
"Oh, my God," I heard myself mutter, just sitting limply in Kay's palm in absolute thunderstruck astonishment. "Oh, my God! I'm Stage Three, aren't I?"
"That you are," she replied, thankfully keeping her voice down so as to not blow out my tiny eardrums. "Don't ask me how it happened, either. I can't explain it. Everything I've ever been taught about the transition process just went right out the window."
"I-I knew I would be this small someday," I muttered helplessly, "but not like this! I was supposed to have time to adjust! Now look at me! What am I supposed to do now? I'm four inches high!"
"Three and three quarters," Kay pointed out with a sheepish grin, "give or take an eighth of an inch or so. Sorry, I did some tests on you while you were out. This is something nobody's ever seen before. As far as I can tell, though, you're an ordinary Stage Three in every way. How do you feel?"
"Feel?" I demanded, trying to stand up and instead settling with just getting to my knees, balancing myself with my hands on her extended fingers. "How do you think I feel? I'm pissed off! How can something like this happen? I was supposed to have months before Stage Two and at least a year for Stage Three, goddammit!"
"That's not what I mean." Kay stepped down off the stool and started walking, forcing me to hold on for dear life as she headed into another part of the strange house I figured had to be her aunt's place, which was where we were heading the night before. "What I mean," she went on, "is how does your body feel? Are you all right? No side effects?"
"Other than being four inches high, no!" I shouted. I was really getting angry and I shouldn't have taken it out on her, but there was nobody else there to vent my frustrations on. "Three and three quarters, I mean! Whatever! How am I supposed to do anything like this, Kay? I'm utterly worthless now!"
She set me down on top of another table, next to a massive plate and silverware that looked like something Jack would've found in the giant's dining room atop the Beanstalk. "Natalie," she said firmly, "I understand you're ticked off, but stop for a moment and get control of yourself."
I kicked angrily at the fork, which was bigger than I was, and all that did was give me a sharp pain in the toe. These weren't shoes I was wearing, after all. "Dammit!" I swore, hopping around for a moment. "Okay, fine. I'm sorry, Kay, it's not your fault I'm like this. How do I feel? Like I'm surging with energy, that's how, and it's probably contributing to how goddamn pissed off I am!"
She laughed at that and stepped up onto one of the chairs nearby, settling down onto a box she'd obviously left there on purpose to give her a little height. Not that she needed it, as far as I was concerned. "That's exactly what I figured. The Stages are always hard on the body, but people who survive Stage Three usually report increased energy, stamina, and physical strength, at least in comparison to their size. That's because your body has reorganized itself into an extremely efficient machine in order to support your newly compressed brain and all your firm little muscles. Those muscles don't have to lift or move as much mass, either, so you can perform feats of strength that would be impossible at my size. You couldn't rip a door off its hinges or jump over a house, or anything like that, but you can easily leap higher than you are tall, or lift two or three times your own weight."
I nodded vigorously, glad she was so long-winded, because the delay was helping me get control of my emotions. "Okay, that explains a lot of things," I told her, "but what the hell am I supposed to do now? I'm the size of a mouse, and if I go outside, some cat's going to find me and eat me!"
"Don't worry, I won't let that happen," she replied comfortingly. "I'll keep an eye on you as best I can. Here, have something to eat. You probably aren't very hungry, but eat it anyway. It'll help."
She reached into a cup she had sitting nearby, crunched something between her fingers, and scattered some yellow chunks of something on the plate in front of me. I realized this was what was left of a potato chip. As I picked up a chunk the size of my hand and nibbled on it, she slid a bottle cap next to me and I saw it was filled with water. I was thirsty, so I took a sip, and had to struggle to get it to slide down my throat. After coughing a few times, I figured it out, and ate for a moment while Kay talked.
"You've been out for about ten hours," she explained. "When you collapsed on the street corner, I was pretty sure you were about to go Stage Two. You had all the symptoms, even if it didn't make any sense. Fortunately a couple of passersby helped me carry you to my aunt's house, which is where we are now. Like I said yesterday, there's no electricity here, which is why you're getting potato chips and bottled water and not some hot soup or something more nutritious. It'll do, though. You just need a little bit of food to get you started. You'll find you eat more times during the day now, but a lot less food each time. You're going to be a frequent snacker."
"I'm used to that," I replied, already feeling full. I took another gulp of the water, which resembled partially congealed gelatin, and started to pace around. I still felt full of energy and there was no way to really release it, except to do some kind of physical activity, so I just quickly power-walked back and forth across the table. "What am I supposed to do now, Kay?" I demanded. "What can anybody do like this? How can I help Steven? I'll have to turn myself in so they can take me to a mini-city, won't I? What happens after that? I'll never see any of you again!"
"Calm down, calm down," she insisted. "I don't know if you need to do any of that just yet. There's never been anyone who's skipped Stage Two like you did, so I don't know if they'll want to, um, study you further."
I gasped and shook my head. "Oh, no! I'm not doing that! Don't let them make a lab rat out of me! Please!"
"Fine, I won't," she chuckled. "I was just kidding. You don't have to take it so seriously!"
"How can I not take it seriously? You don't get it, do you? I'm Stage Three, goddammit! I'm not even a real person anymore, as far as the government's concerned! I'm a ward of the state! If you keep me, you're technically breaking the law, you know."
"Yeah, I thought about that, but I don't see any real alternative. I don't want to turn you in just yet. For one thing, we don't know what your boss and his friends might do when they find out. They may be able to get to you, even once you're in protective custody. Besides, there's something else you aren't considering, and honestly I don't blame you for not considering it until now, but it's all I've been thinking about, ever since I realized you weren't stopping at Stage Two, but were still getting smaller."
"What?" I demanded, stopping my pacing and staring up at her huge face. "What are you blathering about now?"
"When we were in the alley, while we were leaving the Oriental place," she explained, "you told me what happened in your office. You said your boss made some threats and revealed he was part of the conspiracy, but we were in a hurry and I'm sure you left out some details. Exactly what did he threaten to do to you?"
"Well," I replied, thinking back to what Dr. Masterson said when he glared down at me from behind his desk, "he said he was going to put a stop to my meddling, and that he was going to use me against Steven somehow. Then he tried to force me to write a letter of resignation, and--"
"How exactly was he going to use you?" Kay interrupted. "Was he going to hold you at gunpoint, or what?"
"I don't know," I replied, trying to recall exactly what was said. "He told me I probably should've been killed already, but they thought I would be a 'carrot' to use against 'a certain lovesick scientist.' That's exactly how he put it. Then he said the next time Steven sees me, he'd get the surprise of his life, and would be putty in their hands."
"Hmm," said Kay, narrowing her eyes. "That's exactly what I was afraid of. Now, listen very carefully, Natalie. Did he have anything in his hands at that time? Anything that looked even vaguely like a weapon?"
"Not a weapon, no," I replied, "but he kept fiddling with something on his desk, a cell phone of some kind, or something like that. In fact, now that you mention it, when I asked him what he was going to do, he said it was already done. What did he mean? What had he already done?"
Kay looked crestfallen. "I should've thought of this already," she said disconsolately, turning away. "I should've realized it, Natalie. Damn it all! I could've stopped this from happening, if I'd at least thought it was possible."
"What?" I asked, even as a terrible sensation was already beginning to claw at the pit of my stomach. I was already beginning to realize, if only subconsciously, exactly what that device was on Phil's desk and what he used it for.
"If they know what makes people shrink," said Kay slowly, still not looking at me, "and they can stop it from happening..."
I made the connection then, even though I really didn't want to, and later wished I hadn't. "If they can stop it," I said weakly, "then they can start it, too, can't they? They can make people shrink whenever they want!"
"And that's what they did to you." Kay turned to me, eyes rimmed with tears, nothing but despair mirrored on her face. "They made it happen, Natalie. They shrank you on purpose!"
I just stood there stock still, letting that sink in. She was absolutely right, of course. They'd figured out how to control those binary mini-whatevers floating around in your body. With just the flip of a switch on some crude device, like the one Phil had in his office, a little while later you would shrink. All they had to do was sit back and wait for it to happen. They could even make you skip a Stage if they wanted, like they'd done with me.
I tried to think of some way to respond to that, but I couldn't. What could I possibly say? There was nothing but hopelessness. There were no options. We, and the rest of humanity, were at their mercy. The Conspiracy People held all the cards. Whoever these people were, they could set themselves up to be gods, and nothing we could do could stop it.
So Kay and I were both sitting there, staring at each other in something akin to stupefied horror, realizing down deep just how totally screwed we all were, when the front door of the house burst open. We were in the dining room at the time, in plain view of that door, so when the three black-suited men stormed inside, there was nothing we could do, even if we'd been able to recover in time.
Before Kay could even get out of her chair, they'd thrown her to the ground and wrapped her up in a bag. Me, well, everything happened so fast I only barely registered it consciously. A massive hand swept me up, knocking the wind out of me, so I couldn't even scream. Then I was sealed in a jar, shoved into an attaché case, and locked quickly away in darkness. I suppose maybe I actually did get off a high-pitched yelp of pain and surprise, for all the good it did, but none of the men said a word as they kidnapped us.
I felt myself knocked around as the suitcase I was in began to move and sway back and forth. They were taking me away. All I could do then was cry, there in the darkness, the size of a mouse and trapped in a jar, heading God knows where, with nothing but hopelessness to keep me company.
The briefcase rocked back and forth roughly and I huddled into a ball in the bottom of my container, trying to avoid getting bruised each time I got slammed into the corner. After what seemed like forever, the shaking came to a halt and the case was turned violently sideways, dropping me onto the curved wall of the jar. Now I felt a rumbling vibration, and could hear engine noises, so I figured I was in some kind of vehicle. I could feel the motion of acceleration a few moments later, and when that finally settled down, the voices started.
"Were you spotted?" someone was asking--a rough, male voice muffled by the walls of the briefcase, but perfectly audible. I thought I recognized the speaker, but couldn't be sure.
"Don't think so," said another. "A textbook operation, really. Nothing complicated about it at all. They didn't even see us coming."
"I see you got the doctor chick," said the first man. "She ain't dead, is she?"
"Nope, just sedated. She'll be out for a long, long time. What are we going to do with her?"
"Not gonna worry about that right now. She probably knows too much, so you know what that means."
"Maybe I could have her." The voice was hopeful now, but I couldn't tell if the request was serious. "You think you could reprogram that gadget of yours, maybe cut her down to size for me? Don't worry, it'd just be our little secret."
"Well, I'll see what I can arrange." There was a loud sigh, followed by what might've been a clipped laugh. "Now, what about Natalie Patterson? You did get her, right? I don't wanna hear some crap about her gettin' away in the confusion. You guys had a perfect view through that window--"
"Don't worry, she's safely tucked away in here." There was a loud bang as something impacted the side of the briefcase just above my head, causing me to jump. "Stage Three, just like you said. Are you sure it was wise, sending her that far?"
"It was that or kill her," said the first man, and I knew by now that this was without a doubt Dr. Phil Masterson. His sloppy manner of speaking was a dead giveaway, even if his voice was deeper and muffled by the attaché case wall. I had always thought of him as a decent guy and a fair boss--how could I have been so wrong? "She's too valuable alive," he went on, and my loathing increased with every word that came out of his mouth. "Dr. Beck's gonna do anythin' we say as long as we got her, especially if she's like this."
"If you say so," said the other man, and even through the distortion caused by my double prison, I could sense his doubtfulness.
"I don't need your approval, y'know," growled Phil. "Now open that thing up. I wanna get a look at her."
"I wouldn't mind that myself. I didn't get a good view when I grabbed her, but what I saw, I really liked."
There were a couple of loud snaps and then the lights came on. I blinked and peered up through the glass to behold two tremendous faces gazing down at me. The curving glass of the jar made them stretch like something in a carnival mirror, and I don't think I'd ever seen anything quite so terrifying.
It was bad enough when Kay looked in at me in that aquarium, with a face nine times bigger than it should've been. That was intimidating enough. But these men were three times larger still. I was so small! Four inches high is just a few inches bigger than nothing, and that's exactly what I felt like right then.
Phil chuckled evilly and picked up the jar, popping off the top with a quick twist of his hand. Then he bent his wrist and shook, and I went tumbling out into his palm, screaming in terror and struggling to catch hold of something before I fell any farther. Nobody really likes the idea of falling, except maybe skydivers, which I most definitely was not. I clung to his fat fingers in desperation while he only laughed, the sound filling the air like booming thunder.
Not that being there was any sort of comfort, I might add. I was being held in someone's hand! Oh, sure, Kay picked me up earlier, but that was different--she was a person I knew and trusted, and besides, the size difference wasn't nearly as pronounced. I wasn't even big enough to fill a man's palm! I don't think I'd really quite grasped just how tiny I was until just that moment. I was completely at his mercy, and I'm pretty sure I've never been more terrified in my life.
"God damn, you're cute like that!" Phil cackled, poking and prodding at me with a humongous, pudgy finger that was almost as big as I was. "Look at that sexy little catsuit you've got on, too! Man oh man, I thought you were hot before, but wow!"
"Let me see, let me see!" insisted the other one, holding out a hand, into which I found myself unceremoniously dumped a moment later. He flipped me over, poking and touching me, feeling me up without any attempt at subterfuge. "Shit, Phil, no wonder you wanted to shrink her down! What a toy she's gonna make!"
"Don't get any ideas, Sean!" insisted my ex-boss. "If anyone's going to play with little Nattette here, it's me. Besides, you'll probably just hurt her, you sick bastard!"
Sean laughed loudly in agreement, and all I could do was cower there helplessly, trying to curl up into a fetal position and cover my ears. He would have none of this, of course, and kept tugging at my legs, trying to roll me over. He seemed to have some kind of fixation on my backside, because whenever he'd get me in the right spot, he started squeezing and pinching my butt. When I finally cried out in pain, he just laughed all the harder.
"See there, that's what I mean," complained Phil, rolling his eyes impatiently. "Now give her back! She's not to be injured before we show her off to Dr. Beck. If he won't cooperate, he can watch what we do to her after that."
"Fine, fine," said the other giant, giving me a final parting slap on the ass with a flick of his index finger. I wasted no time diving out of his hand and back into Phil's, where I returned to cowering as best I could.
There was a certain otherworldliness to all of this, you have to understand. I was terrified beyond all reason, so much so that I couldn't even really talk, or even think about protesting or cursing. I had become something primal, a frightened animal with barely any conscious thought left in my head. Oh, don't get me wrong, I heard everything they were saying quite clearly, including the threats about Steven and the promise of torture, but the only thing important was huddling in a ball in the safest spot I could find, which at the moment was the exact center of Phil's enormous palm.
"There, there," he whispered from above me, his chubby, unshaven face filling the sky. "No need to be so scared now, my fine little Nattette. I won't let the big bad Special Forces man hurt you."
I didn't say anything; there was nothing I could have said. I mostly just lay there shuddering and trying to regain my senses. His huge finger came down and started prodding me again, exploring my tiny little body, rubbing and fondling whatever parts of me interested him. I didn't try to resist or even think about doing so.
"I've often wondered what you'd feel like, if I ever had this chance," he went on. "You're quite the tasty little morsel, y'know, and you look really good like that. So perfectly tiny and helpless! Stage Three really does suit you. Now let's see if I can get this piece of nylon off..."
I still didn't answer or even move. His fingers were touching me in places that I vaguely realized were inappropriate, and now he was stripping me of what little clothing I had, but I'd separated myself enough from reality that I no longer cared.
"Now let me tell you how this is going to work," he continued, licking his lips as he managed to peel the top of the nylon suit away. He seemed delighted by what he found underneath, and the fondling resumed without hesitation. "You see, I own you now, my pretty little Nattette. You're mine and I can do whatever I want to you. If you're good and don't do something idiotic like try to get away, I can make this pleasant." His touch became gentler, softly stroking me, so that I felt my body shiver, though this was only an unconscious reaction, not something I was really doing on purpose, or even enjoying.
"On the other hand, if you're bad, I can hurt you just as easily," Phil went on, suddenly pinching my body between his thumb and forefinger. He squeezed tightly, causing me to gasp and cry out in pain, which was apparently what he was looking for, because he just as quickly let me go. I sagged into his palm again and resumed cowering, a faint cry escaping my lips.
"You understand all that, right?" he demanded, poking his finger into my face. "Nod or something so I know you understand!"
At the sight of that fingertip approaching my face, I shut my eyes and curled up again. Nearby, Sean said, "She's not going to answer, you know. Congratulations, you managed to completely traumatize her. Good job."
Phil snorted. "I would've thought she'd be stronger than that," he complained. "The Natalie I remember was always pretty level-headed."
"Maybe it has to do with waking up four inches high," offered Sean with a chuckle, "and then being tortured by a giant. Just a guess, but that might have something to do with it."
Phil glared at the other man. "I don't need any sarcasm from you, y'know."
"I'm just saying," protested Sean. "Whatever. Have it your way. You should probably put her away now, though. We're almost at the Center."
Phil looked up and away from me, at something over his shoulder. I hadn't even realized until this point that I was inside an ambulance, which apart from police cruisers and buses was the only kind of vehicle regularly out on the roads these days. Phil was looking through the divider out the front window, at something I couldn't see. The other two men who'd helped capture me were in the front seats, one driving and the other watching the activities in the back with undisguised interest. Maybe a bit of jealousy, too, but I couldn't really be sure, and didn't exactly care anyway.
I only barely noticed this at the time, of course; mostly I just remember the scene from much later, when I'd recovered from the ordeal. Phil turned back to me then and licked his lips once more. "Fine, I suppose I'll have to enjoy explorin' your fine little body some more, Nattette," he said, cruelly fondling me one last time. "By then you'd better be ready to do everythin' I tell you, got it?"
I gulped and managed to faintly nod, even if only by reflex. Resisting was pointless anyway; what could I possibly do?
"Good. I'm glad we understand each other. Now I'm gonna put you back in this here jar and carry you inside so you can see your boyfriend. I really can't wait to see his reaction. It's gonna be great! Just remember, if you try anythin', I won't just hurt you, I'll hurt him even worse. Now get back in there and keep your trap shut!"
He held me up to the jar and I scurried inside, glad to be out of his palm, even if it was softer and warmer than the curving glass. The experience of being manhandled by monstrously huge giants that could drop or crush me any time it suited them was something I was eager to escape. A few moments later they put me back in the briefcase and it got blissfully dark again.
I quickly pulled my nylon suit back on all the way, huddled into a tiny little ball, and proceeded to cry and cry until my face hurt.
There was a lot of moving and shaking after that while Phil carried me inside the Henderson Science Center, which was of course where we were going. I got bounced around a lot, but hardly cared; mostly I just wept and felt really sorry for myself. When things are so completely hopeless, there's a kind of depressing sense of inevitability that sets in. Like I said before, what could I possibly do? Nothing, that's what. Absolutely nothing.
I could hear Phil talking to the others as they walked along, but I didn't really listen. I knew, when I went Stage One, that things were going to change for me, and my life was going to be different, but I never in my life imagined this would happen. I had no options, no plan, no way out. I felt myself sinking and slipping away, there in the darkness, and I probably came closer to catatonia than any sane person had a right to.
Yet at the last instant I pulled myself out of it. The case had stopped jerking back and forth by then and was only gently rocking, and I could hear voices outside, and one of them was new. Through the haze of inevitable hopelessness I recognized that voice. It was Steven!
I snapped back from the brink and struggled to regain my senses. My Steven was out there, and if nothing else, I could at least see him one more time. What I was going to say, or what he would say when he saw me, I couldn't guess, but the idea that he was close by gave me the faintest glimmer of hope.
"What do you people want now?" I heard Steven saying. "I'm already doing everything you told me to do. Isn't that enough?"
"Not quite," replied Phil, and in my head I saw that big grin of his that always showed off those disgusting yellow teeth. "You see, your girlfriend was gettin' a bit too nosy for her own good, so we thought we'd demonstrate what's gonna happen if you try anythin' stupid."
At that, the briefcase lurched and slammed down on its side, throwing me sideways. I knew what was coming and squinted as the locks clicked open. "What are you talking about?" Steven demanded from somewhere overhead, even as the light streamed in through the opening. "Is this about Natalie? You said you'd leave her alone!"
"We were, until she started pokin' her nose in our business," Phil went on. His hand came down over the jar and yanked it into the air, sending me reeling. At some point he took the lid off, but I was too dizzy to do anything about it. "So I'm afraid we had to put a stop to that permanently. Now put out your hand, Dr. Beck. Go on, hold it out there."
"What's this all about?" Steven asked worriedly. "Oh, my God, you can't tell me that--"
"Just put your damn hand out!" snapped Phil.
The jar moved again and I saw the wrinkled flesh of a palm through the round opening on the other side of the jar. Before I could do anything, I was flipped upside-down and skidded through the gap, landing with a yelp on the warm, padded skin. I climbed to my knees and looked up into the gigantic face of my lover.
"Oh, God, no!" Steven gasped when he saw me. His vast face was gaping at me in horror. "Natalie! What have they done to you?"
"I'm sorry, Steven!" I tried to yell, but I'm not sure he even heard my pathetic little voice. "I just wanted to help--!"
"As you can see," Phil went on with a gleeful smile, obviously enjoying this immensely, "the Inducer ain't limited to just Stage One. We can do this to anybody we like, any time we like."
"You bastard!" growled Steven, and he looked up at Phil with a glare of hatred I didn't know he could possibly possess. Steven was always a kind and forgiving soul, but I guess even so, he's still human, and he can have emotions just like the rest of us. Or maybe it was just that he was so massively huge that his expression simply looked all the more intense because of it.
"Now, now, let's not resort to name-calling, Dr. Beck. I'd hate to see anythin' happen to our new little toy."
"She's not a toy, God damn you!" hissed Steven, all the while cradling me in his palm as if I were impossibly fragile. "How can you do this to people? What kind of monster are you? Is this what you have in mind for everyone, everywhere? That we'll all be your goddamn toys, when it's all said and done?"
"It doesn't have to be that way," went on Phil, but he'd already taken a cautious step back away from Steven, who looked ready to explode. There were two other men in the room as well, that Sean guy and the one from the passenger seat in the ambulance, and both of them had their hands reaching into their coats, obviously getting ready to draw weapons if they had to. Phil, meanwhile, kept talking, his viper's voice quickly shifting from threatening to soothing. "I already told you our terms, Dr. Beck. Assist us in findin' a cure, and you can enjoy its benefits, too. Think about it, Stevie my boy. Your little Natalie here, your own personal pet, for as long as you like. Yours to do whatever you want with, anytime you want."
"She's not a pet!" Steven argued, fixing his eyes on me, and now I got a faceful of pity. He lowered his voice to a whisper, directing his next words at me, over the sound of Phil's prattling. "You could never be just a pet, no matter how small you are," Steven reassured me, and Heaven knows that's exactly what I needed to hear at that moment. "God, how could they do this to you? I'm so sorry, Natalie. It's my fault they did this. All my fault!"
"Maybe not a pet, then," Phil's voice continued, and I only barely heard him because I was crying again, gazing up lovingly at Steven's face and wishing I could throw my arms around his neck and kiss him. He reached out a finger, and I had to content myself with that instead, but it did the trick. I instantly felt stronger, overcome with a resolution to get through this somehow, no matter what. That's what having Steven there did for me. You know, I wasn't sure, a few days ago when he admitted his feelings for the first time in that restaurant, if I really felt the same way, but now...well, I'd never felt more sure of anything in my life.
"Call her what you will," Phil went on, "but she's all yours nonetheless. All you gotta do is solve our little problem, and you can walk away with her in your pocket. Not just her, either. You could have any woman you want. How'd you like that, hmm? Any woman at all. Someone more your age, perhaps? Like Dr. Metzenbaum, up on the fourth floor? She's got a fine setta legs under that lab coat, y'know. Or Dr. Rafferty, maybe. You can't stand her, can you? Think of what you could do to her, if she was like this! Or better yet, that doctor lady I've seen you talking to. The one who's already Stage One. Dr. Gutierrez, I think it is. Maybe you like 'em small, hmm?"
"Not that one," Sean interrupted from nearby. "You said I could have her, don't forget."
Steven's head jerked up at the sound of Kay's last name, and the comments that followed. "Leave her alone!" he spat. "Leave them all alone, damn you! You've already done enough! I'll do whatever you say. Anything. Just don't hurt anyone else."
"Well, I'm afraid I can't make any promises," chuckled Phil, exchanging a quick glance with Sean, "so I suggest you get back to work. The faster you find a Solution, the fewer people are gonna meet the fate of your little girlfriend. Now put her back in the jar. You can see her later, when we're satisfied you're doin' everything you can."
"No!" Steven argued. "Don't put her back in there! That's cruel! Isn't there some way she can be comfortable? Somewhere I can talk to her, at least? You're watching me all the time anyway!"
"I'll see about settin' somethin' like that up," Phil agreed, and I wondered if he'd really follow through with it. Hoped, maybe, would be the better word. "In the meantime, I'm gonna hold onto her, and rest assured that if you try anythin', she's gonna pay the price. You got it?"
"You don't need threats anymore," Steven sighed, visibly deflating and looking very much defeated. "You win, Dr. Masterson. I'll find your damn cure, if it's possible to find it, but I'll tell you this. If you harm her, even in the slightest, that'll be the last time I lift a finger to help you people. That's a promise!"
"Fair enough," agreed Phil with a snicker. "There, Sean, you see? I toldya he'd be reasonable. Now, Dr. Beck, put her back in the jar and get your ass back to your computers. You can come see her for an hour before bedtime, if you're a good boy."
Steven's face curled up into a snarl, but only for an instant. He must've known it was futile to get angry. He looked back at me and that vengeful expression melted away. "I'm sorry, Natty," he whispered. "I'll see you when I can. Please be strong. We'll be together again. I'm going to do exactly what they're asking me to do. Goodbye for now."
He put me back in the jar, but I was too shocked to do much more than give a half-hearted wave goodbye before I was yanked away and shoved back into the briefcase. I was surprised because, in that brief instant there at the end, while he was telling me that part about doing exactly what they wanted, he was also doing something else. Something the others probably didn't see, or even if they did, they wouldn't have realized meant anything at all. I did, though. I knew exactly what it meant.
He was blinking.
So Steven was lying about helping them! I suppose I should've expected that, based on what I knew about him, and the kind of person he was. When we were going out, we tended to avoid shop talk, as I mentioned before, but that didn't stop us from chatting about our likes, dislikes and goals. Steven seemed committed to helping the people at HSC find the Solution, just as I was committed to doing my part to accomplish the same thing. That's part of what made us stay together, I like to think, although admittedly we were more interested in a physical relationship at first. If it was just the sex, though, I'm pretty sure we wouldn't have stuck together like we did.
I confess I'd worried several times now that perhaps Steven had been turned by these people, and was working for them because he'd been corrupted, just as Phil clearly was. If that were true, though, they'd have no reason to coerce him any further, and my fate would be a foregone conclusion at this point. Instead, Steven actually took the risk to send me a signal and let me know he wasn't going to help them any more than he had to. In that, he and I were both in one hundred percent agreement.
Once I was cut off from the light, the briefcase was moved and I could hear muffled voices, but after they set me in one spot, everything became silent. That gave me the first chance I'd had to think since those men burst in and grabbed me. I was finally able to take stock of my situation, and with my emotions finally calmed down (thanks to Steven's soothing presence and unspoken promise to oppose the conspiracy), I was able to put together a few things I'd overheard.
Item one was pretty obvious, but it was something that hadn't really occurred to me until this point. A comment of Phil's made it clear that forcing me to transition to Stage Three wasn't the first time he, or at least someone, had done this. They must've pushed me to Phase One as well, without anyone's knowledge, as part of their campaign to coerce Steven.
Remember back just before I went Stage One, when I got that nervous phone call from Steven, and he sounded afraid that something might've happened to me? They must've already been working on him at that time. Since Kay told me about Dr. Kleinmann's briefing earlier that day, the timing made sense. Now that I thought about it further, this should've occurred to me long ago--it would've been a pretty amazing coincidence that I went Stage One at exactly that time, without any outside influence.
The second thing, and much more worrisome, was what was going to happen to Kay. I hadn't seen her in that room just now, but of course I didn't get much time to get a better look, stuck as I was in someone's hand the whole time. They must've left her in the ambulance, or so I figured, as presumably lugging her around in a bag like a sack of potatoes might've attracted attention. Where she was, though, wasn't nearly as much of a concern as what they were going to do to her next.
From what Phil said it seemed obvious that they were going to use that Inducer thing on her, possibly so she could be handed over to Sean as a gift, or maybe for some other purpose entirely. They certainly couldn't let her remain free, unfortunately--she knew it was possible to force people to shrink, which made her dangerous to the conspiracy. What bothered me more than that, terrible as it was, was the way Phil glanced over at Sean when Steven reacted angrily. Maybe it was just a coincidence, and maybe I'm the only one who caught that little bit of excess emotion, but I didn't think so. I felt certain Phil at least suspected that Kay meant a little bit more to Steven than he was letting on. What this meant for her, I didn't know, but it certainly wasn't promising, that's for sure.
Of course, there was nothing I could do about it trapped in here, but you can be damn sure I was going to tell Steven about that when I saw him, assuming I actually would. I didn't know if there was anything he could possibly do, but he deserved to be warned if at all possible.
Once I was done worrying about that, I started thinking more about what this conspiracy was actually all about. What we knew, of course, was that they could force a transition on someone, and that they could prevent one from happening, but that was about it. I didn't really know what their goals actually were, except that they needed Steven for something, and presumably other people from his group as well. Phil had already said as much. There was something about the Solution that Steven was supposed to be working on, but what was that, anyway? What could they possibly still need? They seemed to have it all, as far as I could tell.
I was mulling that over when I heard the sound of a door opening and someone moving around outside. Actually, it sounded like two people, although they weren't saying anything. There followed the sound of a thump close by where the briefcase must've been sitting, and then the door shut. I waited, listening, pretty sure that someone was still out there, and then finally they spoke.
"You think anybody saw us?"
"I doubt it. This time of day, the only people still here are the ones we got our eye on. Now come on, get that bag off her."
Bag? That meant the thumping noise must've been Kay being set down nearby. Plus, the second speaker was Phil. They brought her here, wherever here was, and kept it a secret besides.
They shuffled around a bit out there. "Nice," said the first man, who I was pretty sure was that Sean person. Phil had said he was Special Forces, which had scary connotations, but that could've been a reference to his background for all I knew, not his current employer. "Those are some real nice legs," he added in an appreciative tone. "This skirt really needs to be shorter, a lot shorter...yeah, that's the ticket. Man, what a tight little ass! My favorite part of a woman, too. Are you going to let me have her, or what?"
"Sure, what the hell," agreed Phil. "You should probably just shoot her, but if you want yourself a pet, who am I to argue? You've certainly earned it. Besides, I'm pretty sure she'll be useful in some other way, once I figure out why she's so important to Dr. Beck. Go on, check her out if you want while I set this up, but don't hurt her, at least not yet."
"Yeah, real nice," Sean went on. I could hear some more sounds, like the sliding of clothes coming off, and the slapping of flesh on flesh. I didn't want to think about what he was doing out there. Kay was unconscious still, or at least I hoped so, and there's nothing more pathetic than a man copping a feel on a sleeping woman. The fact that she was one-third his size made it even more pitiful. If he could've raped her, he probably would've, I figured, but I had no doubt he was coming pretty close.
"You don't haveta stop on my account," replied Phil from a short distance away, his voice laced with amusement. There were mechanical clicks happening in his vicinity as well. "Go on, have your fun. I'll turn my back if you want, if I'm makin' you uncomfortable."
"Nah, it's not that, I'm just thinking, this would be so much better if she was awake. I like my women to have a little fight in 'em. Of course, she'll be a lot easier to handle when she's smaller, too. I can't wait to watch her struggle in my hand, like that other one did."
Phil laughed at that. "Yeah, I like that too. You'll have your wish by tomorrow, maybe sooner, soon as I get this thing programmed for her. It's a lot more difficult when you gotta start from scratch like this. For Natalie, see, I had a chance to scan well in advance, just like everybody else in the office, so I just loaded her settings and fired it up when she came in to deliver her daily report."
So that's how it happened! I walked right into it, and never had any idea! Thinking back on the time in question, I couldn't even recall hearing any strange noises, or seeing anything unusual. He probably had it in his hand, just out of sight under his desk, but I didn't even notice the sound over our voices. I already knew the Inducer wasn't like a gun, and didn't project a beam of any kind, so if I hadn't seen him messing around with it in the first place, I would've never known anything about it.
"Those things make me nervous," said Sean while I worked all that over in my head. "What if it malfunctions, and hits all of us?"
"Can't happen," said Phil, still fiddling with mechanical things out there on the other side of the briefcase. They probably didn't know I could hear them in here, or maybe they'd just forgotten about me, which would've been fine as far as I was concerned. Or more than likely, Phil was saying most of that stuff just for my benefit. "The settings are real specific--they only work on a particular person. I'd have to attach all these here sensors to you instead of her, and take cell samples from you like I'm doin' now, in order to set up the programmin'. That's not somethin' you're gonna just sit by and let me do, now is it?"
"Nah, I guess not. Still just makes me nervous, that's all. The idea of being that small still gives me the willies. Why do you think I jumped at the chance to join the team, anyway? I'd be a fool not to."
"Well, don't worry, I've used this thing dozens of times and I'm still normal, ain't I? There, the indicators are startin' to line up. I think we got her info now."
More noises followed. I had to wonder when exactly it was that Phil got all that information from me, but it could've been almost any time. They did plenty of drug tests and such while I was on the job, so he could've picked up medical samples from anywhere, and those readings, whatever they were, might've been something in my records from the company physical last winter.
I hated listening to all this, because I knew exactly what they were doing to Kay, but I was trapped, and even if I could've gotten out, how exactly was I supposed to stop this? All I could do was huddle on the floor of my glass jar, hoping something would interrupt them, or the procedure wouldn't work for some reason.
Such was not to be. There came a faint humming sound, and Phil announced, "There we go. It's on now. She's getting a good dose. Yep, there go the indicators. See here? This line and this one? Those mean those little bits in her cells are goin' to work. In a little while she'll start the change, and in a few hours she'll be big enough to fit in your pocket."
"Just the way I like it," Sean replied eagerly. "What about the rest of it? Isn't the change supposed to be pretty messy?"
"Well, sure it is," said Phil, "but she's your pet now, so you get to clean up after her. Heh-heh. Have fun with that."
Sean sounded disgusted by that idea, but he agreed anyway. "Fine, I guess I'll go get some plastic wrap or something to lay her on. And some towels, too. You staying here, then?"
"Of course."
"Let me guess. You want me to take my time?"
"Damn straight! I've been workin' hard today. I think I deserve a little reward of my own."
Sean chuckled. "Figures. Well, don't hurt her too bad--you don't want to piss off you-know-who. Maybe I'll grab a bite to eat while I'm out, but I'll be back in an hour. I wanna watch while she shrinks. Never got to see that before. Should be fun."
"Whatever floats yer boat. Now get outta here, willya?"
"Sure. Catch you later."
Somewhere out there, a door opened and then slammed shut. For a few minutes afterward, I could hear Phil moving things around, probably picking up the parts of the Inducer thing he'd been using on Kay. Then the briefcase started to move, finally tilting roughly onto its side so I got tossed into the wall again.
This was the part I'd been dreading. Phil hadn't forgotten me, of course. He'd just been waiting for a chance for us to be alone.
The briefcase opened and his giant face leered at me through the glass. "Hello, my little Nattette," he said with a huge, evil smirk, and I felt suddenly very, very small indeed. "Time for us to have some fun!"
There are times in everyone's life when you have to do something difficult or distasteful or embarrassing. You can probably remember quite a few of those moments, if you think about it. Screwing up a speech in front of hundreds of people, for example, or maybe a particularly humiliating self-inflicted injury, or something like that--the sort of thing that made you wish you were anywhere else. Or maybe it was some physical extreme you had to push yourself through, like having to slog through a snowstorm when your car broke down, or running a marathon, or whatever. I'm talking about trials you had to endure, perhaps for a very long time, and you got through them because no matter how bad it seemed, you knew they'd eventually be over.
Well, this was one of those times. When Phil dumped me out of that jar onto his hand, and sat down staring at me with that terrible look on his face, I knew I was going to have to do a whole lot of enduring.
He didn't say much, except to laugh at me and taunt me a few times. Mostly he let his fingers do all the talking. He started out slow, seeing what I felt like, and I tried very hard to remain still, and not react to his touch. I kept insisting to myself that I not get angry or frustrated or show a lot of emotion, because that's what he probably wanted to see. Unfortunately, it's hard not to respond when someone so loathsome and disgusting is fondling you, and stripping off the one scrap of clothing you have left. When he peeled that crude nylon bodysuit off me, chuckling all the while, it felt like I'd lost the last thing that made me human. He'd stripped me not only of my clothes, but my dignity as well. I wasn't a person any more, I was just a plaything.
And play with me he did. I couldn't stand it any more and started screaming, and struggling to escape, because like I suggested earlier, I'd rather be anywhere else than there. I even thought, more than once, that perhaps I'd be better off if I just fell all the way to the floor. The drop would probably kill me, but there was at least a chance I'd just be knocked unconscious, and spared the rest of what was to come.
Phil seemed to like my struggling, which by this point was purely instinctive; I'd lost most of my capacity for rational thought. He toyed with me for a while, prodding and squeezing me to see how I'd react, lifting me by one body part or another until I screamed, then flipping me over and trying something else. There seemed to be no end to this torture, until finally I made one last desperate attempt to break free from his grip, and finally collapsed in his palm in exhaustion.
When he saw I had no fight left in me, that's when the worst part began. He started rubbing me in private places, the spots previously reserved for the few lovers I've had in my life. There was nothing I could do to stop this violation; I was spent, and even if I weren't, I was just a puny little thing, unable to resist. He probed me here and there, touching this spot and that, sometimes gently and sometimes not, and those massive eyes never left me, growing ever wider all the while. As all this was going on, he made this horrible smacking sound with his lips, a noise that still makes me shudder when I think of it.
In due course the rubbing became more intense, and of course my body responded as you might imagine, much as I wished it wouldn't, but there are some things you just can't control. I was close to catatonia anyway and all I could do was think of Steven, wishing he'd come through that door, or that perhaps this was somehow Steven in disguise, and maybe, just maybe, he'd take off that ugly mask when he was done, and reveal the truth, and then he'd lean close and I could kiss him, and then he'd keep going and going and press harder there, and there, and then right there...
I cried out, and my whole body stiffened for a long moment. Those immense lips overhead made final smack as I collapsed, soaked in sweat, gasping for breath in his palm. For an instant I saw Steven looking down at me, but that was only my runaway imagination. It was still Dr. Masterson, and he was still just as horrible as before, grinning and laughing and enjoying every minute of what he'd done.
"Was it good for you?" he taunted cruelly.
I didn't have the strength to answer. I curled up, panting, and began to cry. How could he do this to me? We were co-workers, damn it! We knew each other. I was a person, and he forced me to shrink, and then he...he did this to me! What had I ever done to deserve it? Why did he have to be so terrible?
Because he wanted to, I realized then. He did this simply because he could. I was tiny now, too tiny to do anything about it, and he had all the power. It's true what they say, isn't it? Absolute power corrupts absolutely. There, hanging in the air over me, holding me in his palm, was living proof of that.
"There, there," said Phil, still chuckling over his mastery of my helpless little body, "no need to get so upset. I did enjoy that, of course, but think of it as a lesson learned. I can do anythin' I want to you, and you can't stop me. Next time, don't fight, and you might enjoy yourself a bit."
"You're a monster," I told him, but I'm sure my voice was only barely audible. "A monster!"
"Call me whatever you like," said Phil. "I don't really care what you think of me. It don't really matter any more, does it? You're just one less idiot I have to deal with on a daily basis, back at the office. The fewer, the better. Every time another one of you goes Stage One, I'm one step closer to the future."
"W-what do you mean?" I asked, unable to help myself. Even through the haze of disgust and horror over what had happened to me, I still clung to the belief that somehow I might be able to help stop this man, and if I could get him to blab some secret, maybe I could use whatever I learned to my advantage.
"You wouldn't understand if it bit you in the ass," Phil spat. "You're all stupid fools, thinking you can just find a Solution and fix everythin'! Chickens with your heads cut off, that's what you all are. Well, we got us a plan for what to do when that happens, and I'm gonna be on the winnin' side. You, my little Nattette, are already a loser. Now let's stop talkin', shall we? Fun time's just beginnin'."
While he was saying that, he was doing something with his free hand, and I realized with a shudder that he was working loose his pants. My humiliation was far from complete, it seemed. Yet just as the next phase of my torture was about to begin, the door abruptly opened behind us. Phil, startled by the intrusion, jumped in his chair and almost dropped me--I had to cling to his thumb to keep from falling. Perhaps I should've just let myself go, but the urge to survive was just too great. I wasn't ready to die just yet.
Whoever it was stepped into the room and into view, looking down at us with a frown. I didn't know this man, or at least I didn't recognize him from that angle. He was huge, of course; it was impossible to tell his actual height, but he was well-dressed, in a business suit, and clean-shaven except for a closely cropped mustache. His dark hair, also, was crisply cut and nearly solid black, without a trace of gray, even though the wrinkles on his weathered face suggested he was in his forties, or maybe even older.
"Well, well, I see you aren't wasting any time," said the new arrival, in a tone that instantly suggested authority. His blue eyes shone with a strange intensity, and he focused them in a baleful glare that fell directly on my captor. "Is that Natalie Patterson you have there?" he went on, his voice remaining even, yet still managing to sound vaguely threatening.
"Uh, yes, sir, it is," Phil replied, shifting uncomfortably in his seat and clearly trying to face away from this man, probably because of what he'd been doing with his pants. I would've laughed if I weren't still clinging to his thumb and terrified out of my wits. "Sorry, but you did say I could take her out, and I thought--"
"What you thought was that you could treat her like she was yours, when she's not," scolded the man. "I'm disappointed in you, Dr. Masterson. I thought you understood the rules. When she's been released into your custody, then she can be your pet, but not until then. Got that?"
"Y-yes, sir." Phil had by this point recovered from his difficulties and stood up, taking care not to drop me in the process. He somewhat absently fumbled for the nylon outfit he'd stripped from me, which had fallen onto the arm of his chair, and dropped it close by in his palm. I wasted no time hiding my nakedness, and felt much better for it. You don't really understand how much you depend on clothing until it's taken from you. Covering myself, even just a little, made me feel human again.
"Good," the mysterious stranger said, smiling in a way that simultaneously implied forgiveness and condemnation. Phil was trying to block my view with one hand, as if to prevent me from getting a good look, but I could see him just fine. It wasn't until later that I realized he'd been trying to keep the man, who I assumed was Phil's real boss, from getting a good look at me, or the fact that I'd been naked. "Now, who's this other one?" he went on, looking towards the limp form of Kay, whom I'd managed to nearly forget about, for obvious reasons.
"Kaylee Gutierrez," answered Phil. "You remember, that one doctor they had here, the one who was tryin' to get the heart medicine for Dr. Kleinmann."
"Ah, yes. Why is she unconscious and lying on the floor?"
"She was with Natalie here," Phil explained nervously, still trying to keep him from seeing me that closely. I was fine with that, actually, as I was covered in sweat and humiliated beyond measure--I would've been perfectly fine crawling into a dark hole somewhere and disappearing. "She witnessed the transition to Stage Three. She knew too much, so I used the Inducer on her. She'll be joinin' her friend soon."
"I see. You didn't think it was important to report this?"
"Well, I did report on the results of the capture," Phil replied, a little more worriedly now. "You did get that, right? I figured I really had no choice but to do this. It was that or kill her."
"Hmmph. Killing probably would've been better. She's of no use to us."
"Actually, sir, I think she may be. Dr. Beck knows her or somethin'. She might be another weapon we can use against him."
The still unidentified man nodded and glanced back at me for a moment. "This should be weapon enough," he noted, "but it never hurts to have a backup plan, I suppose." He sighed and shook his head sadly. "I gather you want her, as well?"
"No, sir, I was thinkin' we could give her to Sean Copeland. He's the one who pulled off the capture mission, anyway, and he's taken a likin' to her. Besides, I'll be perfectly happy with this one, if that's all right with you."
He considered that for a moment and then nodded in agreement. "Very well, I'll consider it. However," he responded much more firmly, "all of this is contingent on Dr. Beck's cooperation, is that clear? You two can have your new pets when our operation here is finished, and not before. Until then, don't damage them in any way. Is that understood?"
"Yes, sir!" Phil nodded readily, and I could tell he was grateful to get out of this without any kind of punishment. "I should probably go now, sir. Sean's gonna be back soon anyway, to keep watch on the doctor here while she shrinks. What do you want me to do with Natalie?"
"Leave her with me for now," said the man. "I'll see to it she's taken care of."
He held out his hand, and Phil quickly dumped me into the waiting palm, as if glad to be rid of me. Without another word, he gathered up his briefcase and the bag that held the Inducer and its assorted supplies. Then he hastily beat a retreat through the door, letting it slam shut loudly behind him.
The mysterious stranger stared down at me for several long seconds. Unlike Phil, whose face was wide and pudgy, this one's features were narrow and chiseled, with a thin nose and bright blue eyes that were sharply focused on me. Also unlike Phil, whose intentions were obvious, I had no idea what this man was thinking. His eyes and expression betrayed no hint of what was going on inside his head. He didn't seem to notice my disheveled look or exhausted gasps, or the way I was cringing and cowering like the pathetic little nothing that I was.
Finally, after about fifteen seconds, he lifted his head back a little and spoke. "Hello, Miss Patterson," he said in a pleasant, almost friendly tone. "I've heard a lot about you, but I'm sure you have no idea who I am. Allow me to introduce myself, and maybe then things will become a little clearer. My name is Dr. Solomon Grier."
Solomon Grier! Of course I knew that name, even if I hadn't recognized the face. Most everyone knew of him--he was a tycoon and philanthropist who basically dumped every cent of his personal billion-dollar empire into researching the Solution. He was going to make some kind of announcement about it at one point, and everyone thought maybe he'd found the answer, but all we got was a pre-recorded press conference of him telling the world he'd gone Stage One and was retreating from the public eye. There was some vague promise that what was left of his vast financial empire, which was in collapse anyway now that money was virtually worthless, would go towards finding a cure, but nobody ever heard from him again.
Now, here he was, at normal size! Had he really found a way to go back? To get big again, somehow, despite what the doctors said? Everything else I knew about the transitions was getting thrown out the window today, so maybe that would as well. For a moment I surged with hope, which was just as quickly dashed.
"I see from the look on your pretty little face that you think I've reversed the change," he said with a smile. "Sorry to burst your bubble, but the rumors of my shrinking have been greatly exaggerated." He laughed for a moment, as if that was his own private joke, and then just as quickly continued. "That was all done with smoke and mirrors, I'm afraid. It suited my interests to let the world think I'd transitioned with the rest of them, so I could continue my work in private."
So much for that idea, I thought. "What are you doing here?" I asked, sitting up in his hand, having finally caught my breath and recovered, if barely, from my ordeal. For whatever reason, I wasn't all that afraid of him. He didn't seem in any way menacing, like Dr. Masterson was. I remained wary, of course, but he'd sent Phil away, and for now that made him all right by me.
"Come, let's go somewhere a little more private, shall we?" he asked, glancing around at the otherwise empty conference room, except for the still-unconscious form of Kay on the floor. "Don't worry, she'll be taken care of. My subordinates know better than to disobey my orders. Do you have any objections to riding in my pocket while we walk?"
"No, I guess not," I replied. Better than a glass jar, I supposed. Why he was giving me an option, I had no idea, unless he was just being polite.
He nodded and opened his jacket coat, holding me over to the inside breast pocket. Cautiously, I climbed inside and slid down to the bottom. It was dark and warm and comfortable in there, in marked contrast to my trip inside the briefcase. I really didn't mind as he ambled along, moving through the winding corridors of the Henderson Science Center, but I wished I could see where I was going. I knew we took an elevator ride, and a couple of times I heard other people speaking, but Dr. Grier never said a word to anyone.
Finally we stopped moving, and the light above me indicated he'd opened his jacket again. "Come on out, Miss Patterson," he suggested, not phrasing it as an order. For some reason he spoke to me formally, always using my last name, as if I were for some reason worthy of respect. Naturally, that just worried me all the more.
I climbed out onto his waiting hand, and he just as quickly set me down on a nearby desk, next to a computer. I really don't need to stress how big everything was to me now, because being handled by giants should've been more than enough indicator of this, but up until this point I hadn't really let myself think about it. Everything was sort of surreal, and out of my control, like it was happening to somebody else and I was just watching. Now, suddenly I found myself standing next to a common, ordinary thing, something I once used without hesitation in my everyday life. I was looking at a computer keyboard the size of a truck, and a mouse half my own height, and other immense objects far out of proportion to the pitiful tiny thing that was me.
Up until now, I'd sort of deluded myself that there was some way out of this, as if Steven could come along and make everything better somehow. Giant people manhandling me were the stuff of nightmares. This desktop, where I stood surrounded by painful reminders of my situation, was reality. My reality.
This is all I was now, I realized, and that reality came crashing down on me like a ten-ton weight. I sank to the ground, in the shadow of that gigantic keyboard, and utterly lost control. I cried, not for the first time that day, but certainly the most pathetically, and high above me that giant man I barely knew just watched, a sad look on his face, saying nothing at all.
I let it all out, and I suppose I needed that badly, because after a couple of minutes I just hung my head in surrender. There were no tears left by this point, so I slowly caught my breath and left my eyes shut, unwilling to look out at my new world, the world I had to live in now. I didn't want to face it, or him. I just wanted it all to go away.
"Feel better now?" asked Dr. Grier. "You don't have to worry about me, if you're wondering. I'm not going to hurt you. No, far from it."
I didn't say anything, but I did look up at him, and like I said before, he didn't seem at all menacing. There was almost a look of concern on his face, as if he actually cared one whit about me. I already knew otherwise, and I suppose that should've pissed me off, but I didn't have the strength for anger. I didn't think I even had the strength to stand, or much else for that matter.
"I'm sure you have plenty of questions," he went on. "You're afraid of what's to become of you, I suppose. Let me assure you that I have no intention of separating you from Dr. Beck. If he does as he's asked, you two will be together when this is all over. I already told him as much, and I always live up to my agreements. That's how I got where I am today, you see. I've always felt honesty is the best policy, at least where my private life is concerned."
"You told Phil you were giving me to him," I complained bitterly, finally finding my voice, pathetic as it may be. "How is that being honest?"
He smiled down beatifically. "Yes, I did imply that, didn't I? Well, I shouldn't have to point out that I can quite easily live up to both promises."
I shuddered, because there was only one thing that could possibly mean. All he had to do was point one of those Inducers at the man I loved, and we'd be together, wouldn't we? Part of me wanted that, of course, and very badly, but of course that would put us completely in Phil's power. I didn't like that at all, but what could I do? I couldn't very well complain. Dr. Grier wouldn't care, anyway, or so I bitterly thought.
"Why are you doing this?" I asked nervously. "Why are you doing any of this? You have the Solution already. Why are any of us even important at all?"
"You're all very important," he told me, and there was a sincerity in his voice that made me shiver. "Everyone is important, Miss Patterson, no matter your size. Everyone has their place in the world. Your place, for now, is to become a gift to one of my subordinates, who will care for you. He might seem to be terrible at first, but he will come to love and cherish you, as he would any other pet."
"You have a high opinion of people," I countered, sitting up so I could see Dr. Grier better. I was regaining my strength, and while arguing with this man was probably the dumbest thing I could do, I felt all the better for it.
"Yes, well, I should," he replied with a nod. "You should be glad I'm such an optimist, my dear, since I plan to be running things once the population has all reached Stage Three. I and my friends will usher in a new age for the human race."
"With you in charge?" I demanded. "What gives you the right?"
He shrugged. "You probably think I'm a megalomaniac, or delusional, don't you? I've heard it all before. I'm neither of those things, you know. I'm just a realist. The human race is shrinking, one person at a time, and because of my own foresight, I'm going to remain unchanged. So are as many others as I can save. Humanity has scourged the Earth up until now, raping and pillaging the planet as they will. I'm going to fix all that. I'll undo all those mistakes. I'll make the world a perfect place for the rest of you to live in. Think of me and my friends as caretakers of a new Eden."
"So we can be your playthings," I replied angrily. "What if we don't want that? What if we don't want to be pets?"
"Everyone has their part to play, as I said," he responded, remaining completely calm, not even seeming to notice my disgust at the whole idea. "It's not my fault this happened, you know. Don't lay the blame at my feet! I'm merely taking advantage of an opportunity presented to me by circumstance."
I stood up and pointed at myself. "This was no accident!" I yelled. "I'm like this because of you! Your machine did this to me!"
"I wasn't speaking of you specifically, so please calm down, Miss Patterson." He poked a massive finger in my face, causing me to back away in sudden fear. He had no intention of actually hitting me, as it turned out, but the move was so sudden it scared me for a moment. "I was talking about what's happening to the world--to everyone in it. I had nothing to do with that, but I did see it coming. I tried to warn everyone, but nobody listened, and that was the last mistake the old regime will ever make."
"What are you talking about?" I asked, stepping cautiously back out once he removed his hand. "You mean you know how this all happened?"
"Of course I do. I even told them, those fools in Congress, that something was going to happen, and they swept it all under the rug. They had their chance to take some kind of action--to do something, anything at all--and they blew it. Fortunately for me, I took the proper precautions."
"What precautions?" I asked.
He smiled slightly, and I figured he wasn't going to answer, but he did, sort of. "Do you know what causes people to shrink, Miss Patterson? Do you have any idea?"
I nodded cautiously. I forgot that the only reason I knew was because Kay passed on that information to me, which was supposed to be a secret, but at this point it really didn't matter anyway. "I heard about what Dr. Kleinmann discovered," I admitted. "Those tiny particles in everyone."
He didn't seem at all surprised that I knew, but simply kept right on going with his explanation. "Yes. Those are what we call binary minicells, or BMCs, if you prefer the acronym. They were developed over twenty years ago, as part of what was known back then as 'Project Minicillin.' You've never heard of it, I'm sure, because it was top secret, paid for in funds so black not even the President knew what they were being spent for. The idea was to create the perfect panacea--a way to cure all diseases and deformities in everyone, worldwide. The ultimate magic bullet."
"You mean the government did this to us?" I asked, somehow not very surprised by this news. "On purpose?"
"Not on purpose, no. The original intent was to wipe out all human ailments in one master stroke. The BMCs could individually tailor themselves to one's genetic makeup, and then literally rebuild the body one cell at a time. Think about it, Miss Patterson! No more cancer, no more heart disease, no more colds, flu, anthrax, none of it. Every disease could be swept away. Injuries could be healed in hours. Lost limbs could completely regenerate. Humanity would enter a golden age. That, and nothing less, is what those men were trying to accomplish."
"Sounds like it didn't work out too well," I remarked sarcastically.
He flashed a brief and knowing smile. "No, of course it didn't. The BMCs didn't seem to do anything at all, at least at first. The scientists tried to make them work, but although the minicells multiplied and saturated the body, they didn't respond to stimuli. They were supposed to fix everything, but instead they did nothing. It was like they couldn't decide how they were supposed to do their jobs. The human body is extremely complex, you see. Far more complex than you or I can really imagine. The men on that project worked for years on the problem, but nothing ever came of it. They eventually gave up, called an end to Project Minicillin, and let everyone go home. The binary minicells, though, were still around. They were still trying to do what they'd been designed to do. They multiplied, and spread themselves on the wind, and soon they were everywhere, inside everyone." He inclined his head slightly, adding as an afterthought, "Well, almost everyone."
"But how did they go from being a cure for disease to a cause of shrinking?" I asked, unable to contain my curiosity.
"Nobody knows for sure. You see, I didn't even know that's what would happen. Not exactly. I just knew something bad was coming. People were going to change, somehow or some way. I didn't know how, but I made sure I was protected." He paused for a moment, glancing away, as if remembering something from long ago. Then he went on. "The BMCs were programmed to solve all the ills of their host body, you see. In a way, they succeeded. People who go all the way to Stage Three are cured of all their ailments, as I'm sure you're aware. It's part of the genetic restructuring. Furthermore, once someone reaches that Stage, they're permanently immune to virtually any kind of infection, because ordinary diseases and viruses are too large to work on them. So, for whatever reason, the BMCs must've determined that making humans four inches high was the best way to solve all their ills--exactly as they were programmed to do, all those years ago."
I nodded slowly, letting the words sink in. Everything he said, assuming it was true, made perfect sense to me. For the first time since this all began, I finally understood why all of this was happening. I may well have been one of only a few people on Earth who knew. Those scientists from twenty years ago, whoever they were, were just trying to make a better world for everybody. The side effects were just more catastrophic than anyone could've ever imagined.
"If you know all this," I asked after a moment, "surely there must be other people who know, too. Why wasn't this announced on the news?"
"The original Minicillin project was so secret, only a few people knew about it," Dr. Grier went on. "I was one of those people. The rest of us who knew, we came together after the shrinking started, and we knew right away what the cause was. We also knew what would happen to us if anybody found out our involvement in the project. So we worked in secret to find a cure, some way to stop it from progressing. When we realized we didn't have the resources, some of us wanted to bring in outside help. The rest of us didn't like that idea, because by then we had other plans."
I nodded. He really didn't have to explain what must've happened after that. The ones who favored secrecy clearly won that battle.
"There was a problem, though," he went on, neatly bypassing what was obviously a distasteful subject for him. "You see, we know how to trigger the binary minicells in any given individual, by simply determining the proper sequence of electronic signals required to activate them. In a similar manner, we can temporarily suppress the BMCs by forcing them to wait to begin the transition process. By temporarily, I mean a few years at most. Eventually, though, they're going to stop waiting and activate on their own, and we really don't have a way to stop that from happening. Not yet, at least."
"So you mean Phil and those others are all eventually going to...?"
"Yes, just so, and they're quite aware of it, so don't think I'm keeping it a secret from them! Honesty is the best policy, remember? In any case, that's why I'm here, Miss Patterson. Once I learned that this facility discovered the cause of the shrinking on its own, I knew it would have the resources to attempt to locate a true and permanent Solution--one that can cure anyone."
"Including you?"
"Well, I don't exactly need curing myself." He smiled at that. "My associates and I, back when Project Minicillin was in progress, took steps to ensure we couldn't be invaded by the BMCs. A safety measure, if you will, in case something went wrong during the initial experimentation phase. Thanks to that measure, there are no minicells inside us, so we can never shrink. I'm permanently immune, you see."
Of course he would be, I sighed to myself. "Fine, but why not just take the minicells out of everybody? Just extract them, or destroy them somehow?"
Dr. Grier shook his head sadly. "If it were that easy, it would've already been done. They're just too small and too integrated into the body to get rid of. It would be like trying to pick up all the sand in the Sahara one grain at a time. In my case, I just never let the sand into the desert in the first place."
"So you need Steven, and the rest of the people here, to figure out some way to get rid of all that sand?"
"Not exactly. We know we can't remove the minicells, so we just want to permanently deactivate them. Make them inert, if you will. So far, no one has come close to figuring out how to do that, but I have high hopes this time. Some of the things this facility has uncovered are quite promising."
I considered that for a moment. "I think I understand what you're saying, but why bother? Why don't you and your immune friends just wait for the rest of us all to shrink?"
"There aren't enough of us to establish a viable society," he replied with a shrug. "Not one that would last beyond our lifetimes. I'm not some comic-book supervillain bent on taking over the world, you know. I'm thinking of the long-term aspects of our situation, not my own personal interests. Besides, those of us from the original team have our differences, I'm afraid. Let's just say not all of them are as altruistic as I am. I want to help what's left of humanity--they have their own agendas in mind. That's why it's vital I find a Solution as quickly as possible, with as much cooperation as possible. If you don't help, the alternative will be far worse, I can assure you. Life with one of them as your owner would be far worse than anything I would ever do."
I nodded slowly. All this time I'd been wondering exactly why he was bothering to tell me all this stuff. There was no reason to, as far as I could tell, up until those last few sentences. Now the true meaning became clear.
After everything that had happened, he was actually trying to recruit me!
"I suppose," he said after a moment, probably reading the shock and disgust on my little face, "you probably know exactly where I'm leading with this."
"You want me to help you." It was a statement, not a question, and I suppose I said it rather harshly.
"Yes, that's exactly right. I want you to help me convince Dr. Beck, and the rest of the scientists here at Henderson, to throw in their lot with me. To join my team, as it were."
"You realize," I replied slowly, "that they were already working on the Solution before you came along and butted in. They might well have found it on their own."
Dr. Grier sighed and rolled his shoulders back, letting out a long, slow breath. Clearly this conversation was testing his patience, but he was doing his best not to show it. "Of course it would seem that way," he went on after a moment, "but really, they have no chance at all of finding anything without my help. They're years away from any breakthroughs on their own, but I'm not without my resources. I'm willing to hand over my rather extensive collection of information on the minicells, and everything I've done to try and neutralize them permanently, but before I do that, I want to be assured that it'll be used to find a Solution on my terms, not someone else's. In short, I want cooperation, not opposition. I'd much rather have willing allies than imprisoned enemies, because as I've learned in dealing with people: as the old adage goes, you really do catch more flies with honey than you do with vinegar."
I shook my head, not really understanding. He had the equivalent of guns pointed at our heads; why was it so important that I know all of this, and cooperate willingly? I really didn't even know what to say, so I just sort of stared at him with a rather blank look on my face. Did he really expect me to just kiss and make up, after everything else that had happened? After he basically kidnapped Steven, shrank me to use as leverage against him, and let that disgusting pig Phil Masterson have his way with me?
"I know this is difficult for you to understand," Dr. Grier went on. "Perhaps I've not fully explained my motivation. I want to make a better world for everyone, both those of you affected by the BMCs, and those of us who aren't. Civilization as you know it, or rather knew it, was flawed. I intend to eliminate those flaws, fix the problems of society, and create a paradise on earth that everyone can enjoy, big and small alike. I know it seems otherwise right now, because of certain promises I've had to make to others in order to ensure their cooperation, but if my plan succeeds, there will be no reason for anyone to be treated in any way they don't like. Of course there will be difficulties along the way--I've never claimed otherwise. My promise to you is that you and Dr. Beck will be together, and I'll make sure you aren't mistreated, to the best of my ability. I did, after all, say that Phil Masterson could have you, but I didn't say he could keep you."
"You don't know what he did to me!" I angrily snapped back. "You didn't see what he put me through! That's the sort of thing I can expect all the time, from someone like him! What are you going to do about that?"
"I'll have words with Dr. Masterson," he assured me, and his face drew up in a bit of a scowl. "He should know better. I thought I made it clear that accepting someone as a pet didn't mean he had the right to torture you."
"Well, that's just what he did," I insisted, crossing my arms to punctuate my point. Just thinking about what he did to me made me cringe. "If you can promise me he won't do that again, I'll at least consider your offer."
"Fair enough. I do so promise. Now, I suppose you have some questions. Go ahead and ask whatever you like, and I'll do the best to answer them."
I nodded. I did have quite a few, but the first thing I wanted was pretty obvious. "I want to see Steven," I told him directly. "When can I do that?"
"Very shortly, I assure you," he answered brusquely. "Next question."
Well, that was abrupt, but I took him at his word. For all his blathering about honesty, he'd better not be lying about that, or he could just forget about any cooperation from me! "What about Kay? What's going to happen to her?"
He thought for a moment, looking slightly confused, before he made the connection. "Oh, you mean Dr. Gutierrez."
"Yes, sorry, I forgot you might not know her by that name."
"Well," Dr. Grier explained, "you heard me agree to give her to Sean Copeland in the briefing room, and I have no intention of going back on that promise. Personally, knowing him, I think you have nothing at all to worry about, but I'll make the same concession I made with you. I'll speak to Mr. Copeland and ensure she's treated properly."
"Good, because I don't think he was planning to." I shuddered slightly at some of the things he said while I was in the briefcase. "Kay helped me get through my Stage One transition, and we've become pretty close these last few days. I don't want her hurt just because she was helping me."
He nodded, and then narrowed his eyes slightly. "It seems unusual," he remarked casually, "that someone from this facility would be sent out to your apartment, your relationship with Dr. Beck notwithstanding, when a call to any hospital would've accomplished the same thing. Furthermore, Dr. Masterson already suggested there was something going on between Dr. Beck and Dr. Gutierrez. Do you know anything about that?"
I hesitated. There was something in his tone, something I couldn't readily identify, that suggested that was a loaded question. I suspected he already knew the answer before he even asked. That, and the fact that he didn't sound all that surprised when Phil made that one comment earlier. Still, even if I hadn't had those suspicions, I may well have answered the same way anyhow. Honesty was a two-way street, after all. I hadn't made up my mind whether or not I was going to help this man, but at the very least I should try to fake it, to keep my options open.
So with that in mind, I answered truthfully. "Yes, I do," said after a moment's careful consideration. "She's Dr. Beck's sister."
He smiled at me. "Thank you for being honest, Miss Patterson. I appreciate that."
"You don't sound surprised," I admitted.
"No, I was aware of that connection already. When I came here, I reviewed the records of the entire staff, and her maiden name was a dead giveaway. Besides, how do you think we found you earlier today? As a medical employee, Dr. Gutierrez was issued a pager, and we can track its location easily enough. Since I knew she was your boyfriend's sister, that explained why she was sent to you in the first place, and it was no great leap of logic to guess that she was with you today as well."
So that was how they did it! I hadn't stopped to think about how they knew where I was, but his explanation made sense. Certainly more sense than being able to track me down by my cell phone signal, which was the only other possibility. "Thank you," I said after absorbing that bit of information, "for being honest with me as well, Dr. Grier. You didn't have to tell me all of that."
"We really have no need of any further secrets," he went on. "Feel free to ask me anything else, and I'll be happy to answer."
I leapt at the opportunity. "Okay, then, here's one. You keep talking about these other people you were working with. Who are they, where are they now, and what are they doing?"
"There were ten in all," he began, not even hesitating to answer. "Six men and four women. Two are no longer with us, one from a car accident, the other from heart failure. That leaves seven others besides myself, but two are happily married, so really it's six other factions, if you want to think of them that way. I don't know where they all are exactly, but I do know they're doing basically the same thing I am: trying to find a Solution, so they can take over the world when this is all said and done."
Aha, now it all made sense! That was the right question to ask, as it turned out, because it explained exactly why he really needed cooperation. He wanted to find the Solution so he could create an army of people who were immune to the minicells, and thereby secure a power base from which to defeat these others, whoever they were, and create a new world in his own image. And he said he wasn't a megalomaniac!
"When we were still working together," Dr. Grier went on, beginning to ramble a bit, "I had quite a few philosophical debates with the rest of them, especially that closet anarchist Dr. Marconi, discussing what kind of new society we wanted to usher in. We had it made, really. We could just sit back and watch everyone else shrink down, one by one, and then step up to take our place as their caretakers. The only problem was, most of us were in our forties--it would be at least a decade or more before the transitions were all complete. We couldn't have children that late in life, and it was too late by now to make our existing children immune. Besides, even if we did, ten people weren't enough to form a viable genetic basis for our new society. We needed more, and there was no way to get them, without a real and true Solution in our hands.
"Before we could get that, though, we had to make some rules, and that's where we diverged. First we kicked out Nicholas Marconi, when he wouldn't shut up about this being the perfect chance to do away with government altogether. After that, Richard Clarkson left the group in disgust, then Ivan Terlovski, and finally Augusto and Consuela Rainero. The remaining few came up with a plan that I simply couldn't stomach, so I left as well. When I later heard about Dr. Clarkson's death, I shrugged it off as a medical problem, for he'd been getting old, but Dr. Terlovski's car accident was far too suspicious for my tastes. That's when I decided it was imperative to go underground. I don't like dishonesty, as you know, but I simply had to disappear. The others wouldn't be fooled by my phony Stage One story, but the public was, and that's what I needed. Without the public eye on me, I was able to vanish.
"Since then, I've become aware that the others are involved in programs similar to mine. They, too, are staying underground, as best they can. I allow others like Dr. Masterson and Mr. Copeland to observe independent research efforts, and when they locate someone or something particularly promising, they let me know about it. The hope is that I can combine my research with theirs and make a breakthrough, before the others can interfere. That's what this is all about, Miss Patterson. Does this all make any sense to you?"
"Yes, it does," I admitted. In fact, it explained pretty much everything that had happened up until now. I just had to shake my head at the overwhelming craziness of it all. In all the world there were just a few people who were immune to the transitions, and instead of helping each other, they were fighting a secret war, behind the backs of everyone. Whoever won would basically decide the fate of billions of tiny people, putting us under the control of those lucky few who'd been able to somehow secure their place in the new order. The fact that Phil Masterson and Sean Copeland would be among them made my skin crawl.
"Did you have any other questions?" asked Dr. Grier after a moment. "I really can't stay here all day, you understand." He pulled out some kind of electronic device, a PDA of some sort, and started poking around on it, so I decided to try one more tack, just to get a feel for what sort of world he was planning to create.
"I can think of one other thing," I replied. "Are you really going to keep that scumbag Phil Masterson as he is right now? You're really planning to give him this cure, if you find it?"
He stopped poking at the PDA and looked back at me, narrowing his eyes for a moment. My disgust with Phil was obvious, and I made no attempt to hide it. Scumbag wasn't exactly a strong enough word to describe him, as far as I was concerned, but Dr. Grier had been civil with me so far, so I tried to do the same, and not resort to too much name-calling or swearing.
He must've sensed the importance of my question, so he chose his next few words very carefully. "I've told you I'm an honest man," he said, "and so I'm going to answer you honestly, but I want your solemn assurance you won't tell this to anyone else, other than Dr. Beck, of course."
"All right, fine," I agreed immediately.
"When I recruited Dr. Masterson, I made him a number of promises," Dr. Grier went on. "I agreed to provide him with doses of the minicell suppressant, as well as the use of an Inducer when necessary, in exchange for his services. More recently, I agreed to let him have you when my work here is completed. However, at no time did I directly promise him anything more."
"So that means what, exactly?" I pressed on.
"I have no intention of bringing him with me when I have the Solution," Solomon told me directly. "Someone like Dr. Masterson simply can't be trusted. He's not loyal to anyone but himself, and his vindictiveness and cruelty towards you are perfect indications of why he shouldn't be allowed in any position of power. There may even be some punishment in store for him, once I determine the depths of his infractions today. In any event, no, I won't be giving him the antidote, Miss Patterson. One day, if things proceed as I they should, he'll be the same size as you are."
I nodded. That was the right answer, and assuming it was the truth, it was a strong indictor of the kind of person Dr. Grier really was. He was really just using these men, those people like Phil and Sean, only to get what he needed to further his plans. Once he had the Solution, he would cut them loose. Presumably, he had some hand-picked group of friends somewhere whom he really could trust, and they'd be the ones who'd be in charge of the rest of us, once we'd all finished transitioning.
"In any case," Dr. Grier continued, standing up and putting away his PDA, "I've tarried here too long. Hopefully I've given you a lot to think about, and I really do hope you can grasp it all eventually. You seem like a smart woman, Miss Patterson. I hope you can realize that I've done all of this in the best way I could, the only way I knew how. There have been many moments I'm not proud of, but I only want to make a better world for us all."
I nodded, but in my head I could only think, the road to Hell is paved with good intentions, isn't it? I didn't say that, though. I kept it to myself.
"One other thing," he added as he turned to leave, and it was at that point I realized he hadn't put me in a cage or anything, but had left me standing on the desktop, without trying to make me a prisoner. "As a show of good faith, I'm going to do you a favor now, and I only ask that you not betray my trust. There are no cameras or microphones in this room, as should be obvious considering what we've just discussed. That means you can be assured of absolute privacy, at least for a little while. I'll send someone to collect you later, but for now, simply enjoy this gift, and think about what I've told you. I'll see you again soon."
Before I could ask him what he meant, he opened up the door and stepped outside. I heard a recognizable voice say, "What's this all about? What do you want with me now?" All at once my heart soared, because I knew exactly who it was, and I knew Dr. Grier had been honest with me after all.
"Just go inside," he said with a trace of amusement in his voice, "and you'll see. You have half an hour, so make the most of it. After that, I need you back at your desk."
"Fine, whatever." A hand reached out and pushed its way inside, and a man stepped through, glancing back with a look of disgust on his face. He saw me frantically waving an instant later and froze in surprise, letting the door slam shut behind him. I don't think I'd ever been happier to see anyone in my entire life.
It was Steven!
"Nattie!" he gasped, racing quickly across the room to where I was standing. "Are you all right? I didn't think they'd ever let me see you again!"
"I'm fine," I called out. Finally, there he was, the man I loved, and even though he was a giant, as big as Phil or any of those others, I didn't feel the slightest trace of fear, only relief that he and I could finally be alone together. "Can you just hold me?" I begged without hesitation, moving out to the edge of the desk, out from behind the keyboard. "Please, Steven! Just...just hold me!"
He put out his hand and I climbed eagerly into the warm, wrinkly folds of his palm. All at once I was safe and secure, in a way I hadn't felt since this whole sordid business began. All my worries and fears and uncertainty about what was going on just melted away. He reached down and carefully ran a fingertip softly through my hair, and I shuddered, grateful for at least this one moment of sublime happiness.
"Are you okay?" he asked after a moment, smiling as I stretched out and sighed in contentment. "Did they hurt you at all?"
"Oh, Steven...please, don't bring that up," I insisted. I didn't want to think about that anymore. I've heard that experiences like that are supposed to be traumatic, and for some I guess they are, but for me, I just shoved it away, into a dark corner of my mind, where it could haunt me later, but not right now. "Just let me relax and enjoy this. This is all I've been hoping for, ever since this happened. Just hold me. That's all I want right now."
"Okay, Nattie, whatever you say," he agreed, somewhat reluctantly. Keeping his hand as still as possible, he settled down in the nearby chair and held me up to his face. It was huge, of course, filling my vision, but I felt no trace of intimidation. Those amazing eyes, those handsome features, the little knot on his chin...they never looked better, as far as I was concerned.
"I've been so worried about you," he went on, "and when they dumped you out of that jar...I haven't been able to think straight! How could they do this to you? How could they force you to Stage Three like that?"
"It's okay, Steven," I told him, sitting up and leaning back against the meaty part of his thumb. "I would've gotten this way eventually. Maybe it's better this way. No waiting around, watching my life slowly fall apart."
"Don't say that," he insisted. "I wanted to be there for you, Nattie. I wanted to help you through it. So many people, they let the transitions drive a wedge between them, but I knew that wouldn't happen with us. I wanted to tell you that before, but they didn't give me the chance, so I'll say it now. I'll be here for you, always, no matter what. I don't care that you're tiny, Nattie. I love you just the same."
Such a wonderful man...I didn't deserve him, I really didn't. If only we'd met sooner, damn it all! "I love you too, with all my heart," I admitted freely. "Come here. Move your face closer."
He did, of course, and when he was close enough, I stood up and kissed him on his lower lip. He grinned and returned the gesture, as best he could without knocking me over. I wished we were the same size, just then, so I could hold him in my arms, and feel his body pressing up against mine, but such was not to be.
Could he really love me, like this? Would he always see me as a woman, and not just a four-inch walking doll? I was afraid that he wouldn't, despite his words to the contrary, but of course I knew we wouldn't always have this size difference between us. Once he finished his work here, they were going to shrink him down, like they had me, and turn us into pets. At least we'd be together then, but the thought of being owned by Phil Masterson still made me quake with fear.
So, as much as I wanted Steven to be my size, so we could have some semblance of normality, I couldn't let that happen. Not right now, anyway. There was too much at stake.
"Oh, God, Nattie, it hurts so much seeing you so small," Steven said after a moment. The look of pity on his face was almost painful to watch. "I can't stand this any more! I want to be with you, no matter what it costs. I'm going to go back to that man out there and tell him to use that machine of his on me, and then--"
"No, Steven, don't!" I yelled up at him. "You can't! Not yet!"
"Why not?" he insisted. "I don't want to be apart from you another minute, and we can't be together, not with you like that. Not really. Not in any way that matters. You know as well as I do, we can never have a real relationship. Not if I have to carry you around in my pocket."
"Steven, please!" I begged. I couldn't let him go. His normal size was the only thing we still had going for us, the only chance we still had to do anything at all. "I don't care how big you are, or how small I am. I'm still me. I'm still the same person."
"I know, but--"
"You're going to transition eventually," I interrupted, grasping at straws, and as I did my path suddenly became clear. It wasn't actually all that bad a path, either, the more I thought about it. In fact, considering what had been done to me earlier today, it might well be exactly what I needed.
"There's no reason to rush it," I said suggestively, stretching out my legs a bit enticingly, "In fact, my love, I think we should take advantage of this while we can, don't you...?"
"What do you mean?" he asked, raising an eyebrow in that mock intellectual way of his that always made me smile. Clearly he knew exactly where I was going with this. "Why, whatever are you suggesting...?"
"Well," I replied in as sultry a voice as I could manage without sounding utterly ridiculous, "everybody seems to think of me as a pet, you know."
"Oh, Nattie, I'd never treat you like that," he complained, but he'd already opened his hand as wide as he could, giving me plenty of room to sprawl out to my heart's content. Still looking a bit uncertain, he cautiously brought his index finger down and ran it along my side, and I felt a tingle run up and down my spine. "You know that, don't you?" he asked unnecessarily.
"Of course I do," I answered, using my little hands to guide his finger slowly down my virtually naked body. He caressed my legs gently, and by now I was covered with goose bumps, and the shivers I felt weren't from the cold. "I'm still a woman, in every possible way. You know that, and I know that, but...ohhh...please, Steven, just for a few minutes...can you just prove it to me?"
"Of course, Natalie. Of course I will."
So, for the next few minutes, he did what I asked. Well, more than a few minutes, I suppose. Actually, I don't really know exactly how long he sat there, gently sliding his fingers up and down my skin, fondling me here and there, kneading the flesh of my arms, my back, my legs...the most amazing and sensuous massage you could ever imagine. At some point I lost the little nylon bodysuit thing I was wearing, but I don't recall exactly when or how it came off, and I really didn't care, either. His fingertip was a feather, dancing like the wind across my tiny, quivering body, finding all those places he already knew about, and a few more besides, because at my size it was all there for the taking.
I lost all track of time, twisting and rolling about in his palm, crying out giddily as Steven tickled me, or found some other sensitive spot; and each time he coaxed a reaction out of me, he filed it away in that great brain of his for future reference, just like the smart and caring guy I knew he was. Then, when the time was right, when he knew I was finally ready, he did exactly what he'd promised. He returned to those amazing places on my body, playing me like a finely tuned instrument, reminding me with each smooth and guided stroke that I really was a woman, despite my tiny size. Yet even as I cried and gasped and arched with ultimate pleasure, I had to think, at that final moment of utter bliss, that perhaps, just perhaps, it wouldn't be quite so bad a thing at all to be his pet.
"Nattie? Are you okay?"
He was smiling down at me, that great big wonderful man of mine, with a hint of amusement on his massive face. I suppose I'd probably been lying there for some time now, catching my breath, enjoying every second I could of what had been a completely amazing experience.
When Phil forced himself on me, what seemed like a lifetime ago, it was a terrible violation, but that was a hopeless situation I couldn't avoid. I pushed that event away, into the dark recesses of my mind, but it was still there, nagging away at me. I guess the best way I can put it is that it was like a reminder of the very worst in people, and the very worst my situation had to offer. If you look at it that way, well, what just happened with Steven was the exact opposite. He reminded me that even a man so huge, so vastly gigantic compared to me, could still be gentle and kind and loving, and make me glad, for a few moments, that I was just a tiny little plaything in his hand.
"Of course I'm all right," I sighed up at him. "I've never been more all right in my life. Thank you, Steven. You have no idea how much I needed that."
He smiled again. "I'm sorry if I hurt you at all, but I wasn't really sure what your tolerances were. You look so...so incredibly delicate."
"It was perfect, Steven. Absolutely wonderful." I sighed in absolute contentment. "You can do it like that every time, any time you want...just not right this second. I'm...I'm exhausted. You wore me out!"
"I just wish this weren't so one-sided," said Steven sadly. He shook his head and looked away from me. "Don't get me wrong, Nattie, I don't mind. I enjoyed that a lot--not as much as you, obviously, but still, it was...fun, I guess that's the word."
"Fun?" I asked curiously. Was that the best way he could think of to describe it?
"It shouldn't just be fun, damn it!" Steven sighed and looked at me once more. "We should be making love right now. I shouldn't just be playing with you, with nothing more than my finger. We should be sharing ourselves with each other."
"It's okay, Steven." I grinned at him. "If you're feeling left out, I'm sure I could think of a few things. Would you like to, ahem, try me on for size?"
"What do you--oh, I see." He chuckled at that, and then suddenly looked very contemplative, almost comically so. "That could be interesting, I guess. I hadn't thought of it before, but...yeah..."
His mind must've gone blank for a moment as he considered that option, and I giggled at him. "And here I was, believing that's all you men ever thought about!"
"Well, I was just so worried that--oh, I get it, you're making fun of me!" He reached down and started tickling me everywhere, which wasn't hard because I was still naked, and I'm ticklish in a lot of places. I rolled around in his palm, dodging and giggling as that great finger sought out my belly and feet relentlessly, until finally I could just do nothing but writhe around laughing.
"Well, I'll tell you what," said Steven as he abused me so, "you can have your way with me later, all right? Someone could walk in on us at any moment, you know, and I'd hate to have them catch you violating me in some disgusting way."
"Okay," I agreed between giggles, "but only if I get to tie you down, like the Lilliputians did to Gulliver!"
"Whatever turns you on, my dear. Whatever turns you on."
By this point the tickling was over and he'd moved back to more sensual areas of my body, which I didn't mind at all. I was on the edge of exhaustion, as I'd said before, but that didn't stop him. He already knew what my tolerances were, and he pushed them to the limit. If anything, it was better than last time, and he made a game of it, working me slowly, listening to my little panting cries, then slowing, until just when I was about to beg for more, he'd start right up again.
It was so easy for him, at that size, to bring me such pleasure! That was the blessing and the curse of our situation. He could do this to me basically at will, but I wasn't even sure it was possible for me to return the favor. I was going to try, though, I swore to myself, even as he finally let me off the hook and pushed me over the edge.
I collapsed, gasping, soaked in tiny little beads of sweat, and Steven grinned with almost as much satisfaction as I felt. "There are so many places on you I didn't notice before," he teased. "I'm going to have a field day when I'm finally the same size as you. So many new buttons to push!"
"Oh, God, don't do that again," I wheezed. "I...can't take it! It's too much! I'm overloading! Aiyeeeee!" I faked a little scream.
"Oh, stop complaining! You're loving every minute of this!"
It was true, but I didn't admit it. "You just wait until I get into your pants, mister! Then we'll talk about who has new buttons to push!"
"Later, my dear. When this is all over, you can hunt around all you want." He sighed again and dropped my little nylon suit next to me. "I really do appreciate you letting me, um, handle you," he went on. "I was worried they'd done something terrible--hurt you in some way so you wouldn't want to be touched like this."
"Well," I admitted, slipping the bodysuit back on and wiping my now-wet hair out of my eyes, "they did try something like that, but Dr. Grier put a stop to it." I didn't want to reveal exactly what Phil had done, at least not yet. It would've ruined the moment, and quite possibly pissed Steven off enough that he might do something rash. "Either way, you've definitely made me forget all about that, I assure you."
"Good." He frowned at the implication that something untoward had happened, but moved on quickly. "Dr. Grier was in here with you, before I arrived. What were you two talking about?"
I sat up and adjusted the suit, where it was scrunching up a bit too tightly, and smoothed my hair back as best I could. I suppose I must've looked absolutely awful by this point, but Steven didn't seem to mind. He'd been staring at me rather unabashedly until now, but at this point his expression changed, and I could tell that it was time to get down to business.
"Well," I replied as directly as possible, "if you want to know the truth, he was trying to convert me to his cause."
"Oh, really?" Steven raised an eyebrow. "How did he do that, exactly?"
"He made me certain promises," I answered with a shrug.
"Like what?"
"I'll tell you, but this might take a few minutes."
"I've got nowhere to go. Lay it on me."
So I did. I didn't bother holding anything back; there was no reason to hide anything from Steven at this point. So, I basically told him everything Dr. Grier had said, not word for word of course, but the gist of it anyway. I explained what he'd told me about his history and motivations, what he'd promised me, what he'd promised Phil and Sean, and all the rest of it, as best I could remember. You've already heard all of that once, so I won't bother repeating it again, but you get the idea.
I saved the worst for last, of course, and it didn't take long for Steven to get straight to the point. "If Dr. Grier said this Sean person could have Kay," he asked worriedly, "where is she now?"
"Somewhere in this building," I replied, lowering my eyes. This was going to be hard to say, but he had to know. "Steven, I wish I didn't have to tell you this, but...Phil used one of those Inducer machines on her. I heard him do it, when I was trapped in the briefcase. She's going to go Stage Three, just like I did. It's probably already happening right now."
He didn't say anything right away. I looked up at him cautiously, and his eyes were closed, but his jaw was clenched tightly and his lips had gone white from the pressure. I don't think I've ever seen him so angry, before or since.
He stood, took a couple of steps, and very carefully set me down on the table next to the computer keyboard. Then, quite deliberately, he turned away, and I saw his fists were clenched. "No," he growled angrily, and then he did something he almost never did, and that was swear. "No, no, no! Goddammit, no!"
At that he slammed his fists into the wall, several times, until I saw cracks forming in the paint. I shuddered and backed up behind the nearby mouse. For the first time ever, I was witnessing Steven losing control of himself. It only lasted a few seconds, but it was long enough to rattle me.
When he was finished beating on the wall, he leaned up against the shattered surface, hanging his head and putting his palms out to support himself. He remained there for several seconds, breathing deeply, and I knew what must be going on in his head. He wanted to help his sister, but he knew he couldn't. If he went out there, ready to punch someone's lights out, he'd only get shot and killed for his trouble. He was trapped, as helpless as I was, and he knew it.
He also might be mad at me, I thought worriedly, because I hadn't said anything sooner. Suddenly I felt just terrible. I'd let him play with me, and share what little intimacy we could possibly have, when all along I knew Kay was somewhere else in this building, slowly dwindling away to almost nothing. Of course, I was perfectly aware there was nothing that could be done, and that the process would take many hours to complete, but I could at least have told him first.
He turned around, and I saw his eyes were red. He hadn't quite allowed himself to cry, but that how Steven was. He might come close, but those tears would never come. "I'm sorry," he whispered as he knelt down in front of me. "I shouldn't have done that in front of you. I didn't mean to scare you."
"I'm not afraid," I replied, stepping out from behind the mouse. "I'm sorry too, Steven. I should've told you right away. That was selfish of me."
"No, it wasn't. I understand perfectly." He reached out and ran a fingernail through my hair, then partway down my back, causing me to shiver. "If you'd told me when I first arrived, I would've gone straight out there, and we never would've had this time together. You may think it's selfish, but really, you did me a favor. I'm glad you did it, Nattie, because I needed this as much as you did. Thank you."
I was starting to get a bad vibe from those last couple of things he said. There was a subtle hint of something else hidden in those words. "What are you going to do now?" I asked worriedly. "Please, don't go out there and get yourself hurt. Please, Steven! I couldn't bear losing you. Not now. I need you."
"I know. I won't do anything rash, I promise. Let me ask you this, though. Were you actually planning on going over to Dr. Grier's side? After everything you've seen and heard today?"
"I-I don't know," I admitted, and it was true. I'd listened to everything he said, and considered those promises to me, but hadn't had time to really put it all together in my mind. "I don't think I really have a choice, do you?"
"Maybe, maybe not." Steven stood up and glanced around the room. "He told me we weren't going to be monitored in here, but I have to wonder. There are cameras and listening devices all over this building. We can't really be sure he, or someone else, isn't watching us right now."
"True," I agreed, raising my voice so he could hear me way up there. "That's part of why I don't know what to do. Dr. Grier talks about honesty, but how can we be sure we can really trust him?"
He leaned back down and looked at me closely. "I've been looking over the data he's collected, and it's quite extensive. That's what worries me, Nattie. I've quite literally seen too much. I feel like I might actually be able to help him get what he wants. But if I do, I don't know what's going to happen to me. You weren't the only one he made promises to, and it all comes down to trust. Can we trust Dr. Grier's word? I really don't know."
"He made you a promise?" I asked, curious beyond all measure. What could Dr. Grier possibly have agreed to do for Steven? Of course I should've known, because there was only one thing that made sense, but I didn't grasp it right away.
"Yes, he did." Steven closed his eyes for a second and took a deep breath before continuing, forcing me to linger in suspense for several long seconds.
"What was it? Tell me!" I demanded, unable to hold back any longer.
"If I find the Solution," Steven replied slowly, "he'll let me use it on myself. I can stay normal size, Nattie. Do you understand what that means? If I want to, I can stay this size forever!"
I just stared at him, eyes wide and jaw hanging open. He could stay normal sized, if he wanted to? No wonder he was tempted! Anyone would be, with that kind of motivation! That's probably what Dr. Grier promised all his associates, at least the ones he intended to take along with him, to be the new rulers of the world. They'd get to stay normal while everyone else got small. People would do anything for that. Anything.
For an instant, I carried that thought to its furthest extreme. What would Steven's place be in the new order? If he got to stay big, would he keep on working for Dr. Grier, or would he be allowed to go his own way? If the latter, wouldn't that make Steven a loose end, and therefore a target? Dr. Grier certainly wouldn't want Steven going off to work for one of his enemies, now would he?
And what if Steven did continue working for Dr. Grier...what would that mean, exactly? What kind of terrible things would he be forced to do, in order to stay in Solomon's good graces? It sounded like a deal with the Devil to me. Nothing good could come of it.
I also thought briefly about Dr. Grier's promises. Hadn't he said that Steven would be forced to Stage Three, so he could be the same size as myself? Thinking back to the conversation, I recalled he'd never actually put it that way at all. What he said was that I would be given to Dr. Masterson, but that Steven and I could be together, and there was a way Dr. Grier could live up to both promises. I'd let my imagination run away with me, and focus on the most obvious means where that could work: that Steven would be induced to shrink to my size, and we'd both become Phil's pets. There was another way that could happen, though. Steven could simply be left as he was, and I could be given to Phil...and then, as Dr. Grier had suggested, their business arrangement would be terminated. One way or another.
Honesty, my ass! That Solomon Grier was the Devil himself, I was sure of it. He was as good as his word, but only when he actually gave his word directly. There was honesty, and then there was bending the truth and hinting at one thing when you mean something entirely different. Suddenly I no longer really liked Dr. Grier at all, and all his slick words and promises turned to ashes in my mind.
"Now you see the conundrum I'm in," said Steven, jerking me back to reality. I suppose I must've been standing there with a blank look on my face for several seconds, but I don't think he really noticed. "If I take him at his word, and help him, he can leave me like I am...but then I can't have you, Nattie. Not like I really want, anyway. I want us to be together, for real."
"We are together, Steven," I replied. "Don't feel like you have to give up everything for me! I wouldn't want that!"
"This isn't real, though." He let out a long sigh. "Look, we both enjoyed what I did to you, and I bet you could find ways to return the favor, if you try hard enough--"
"Oh, I'm sure of that," I cut in, smiling and trying to lighten the mood as best I could. He didn't even seem to hear me, though, or if he did, he didn't acknowledge it.
"--but it wasn't real. It would be fun for a while, but how long will that last? How intimate can it be, being made love to by my fingertip? Will that last the rest of your life, Nattie? Because I can't do that to you. I can't make you spend the rest of your life as my plaything."
"It doesn't have to be that way--"
"Yes, it does! It'll always be that way. You know that, Nattie. You know it, deep down in your heart, and so do I."
"No, I don't," I told him. I didn't know where he was going with all this, and I could see only a few options, none of which were good. "I don't know that, until we try. Can't we at least try?"
"I don't know. I don't know anything anymore." He gave another heavy sigh and turned away. "I have a lot to think about, Nattie. Maybe I won't be able to solve their problem for them, and this whole conversation will be moot. Right now, though, what I want to do most of all is find my sister, and help her get through what's happening to her. You can understand that, can't you?"
"Y-yes, of course," I agreed. "Take me with you, Steven! I want to be there for her when she comes out of it. She was there for me. That's the least I can do."
"I don't know if they'll let me, but I'll ask. They were leaving someone outside, I think, probably to make sure I didn't try to hide you in my pocket. Not that I'd try that now, with Kay somewhere in the building."
I nodded. That was something I hadn't considered before now. I'd thought Dr. Grier was being awfully trusting putting Steven and I in here alone, with no one monitoring us (assuming that was true). Yet of course he hadn't really been taking any risk at all, had he? He knew we couldn't try to escape, without endangering Kay. He hadn't really had to worry about trusting us at all. Yeah, he was a slick one, that's for sure!
The more I thought about Solomon Grier, the less I liked the man. He reminded me of a well-dressed traveling salesman, willing to tell you anything, make you any promise, or hint at any reward, in order to get you to buy what he was selling.
Steven opened up the door and stepped outside. I heard him ask someone a question, but I couldn't quite make out the response. After a moment, he returned. "I'm told I have to leave you here," he explained. "Are you okay with that, Nattie? I really don't like leaving you alone like this."
"I'll be okay, Steven. Go and find Kay. She needs you more than I do right now."
"God, I love you so much," he said, leaning down to kiss me on the head. I stood on my toes and gave him a quick peck on the chin. "Are you okay on the desk like this, or do you want me to put you someplace more comfortable?"
"I'm in an office," I noted succinctly. "There really isn't anyplace more comfortable in here. Don't worry, I'll get by. Now go, Steven. Do whatever you have to do. I'll be waiting, and whatever you decide, I'll understand."
"All right," he agreed, turning to leave. An armed man I didn't recognize was standing in the doorway, watching carefully, probably to ensure I was left here as promised. Steven turned back to me, and said, "I think I've already decided. I know what I'm going to do, Nattie. If it works, I'll find you as quickly as I can. In the meantime, just remember what I told you about the truth, and if you can't find it...well, it's hiding in plain sight."
With that, he turned and with a final wave, disappeared through the doorway. The guard made a final glance back at me, then shut the door, and I heard the sound of a key turning in a lock.
Just like that, I was all alone. I wrapped my arms around myself and took a deep breath, wishing Steven were still here. I wanted to be held in that soft, warm palm of his one more time, and feel his finger caressing me...I already missed that, and missed it a lot. There's something to be said for intimate physical contact, even if the people involved are completely out of proportion to one another. Not just the sexual experience, either. Just being held like that, in the pocket of his hand, made me feel at peace. It was wonderful to be loved.
What would Steven do now? That's what I found myself wondering, even as I stood there on that desktop, next to that keyboard far larger than I was. Would he agree to stay normal sized, so he could hold and protect me, and wind up a slave to Dr. Grier, or worse? Would he find the Solution, but choose not to use it, so he could be my size, and give up any chance of freedom for himself? Or would he refuse to work for them, and sabotage their research, because that was the right thing to do, even though it would probably mean his death, and God knows what for me?
What a terrible choice to make! I didn't envy him, and while my heart longed to have Steven close to me again, I knew he had to make his own decision. I wasn't even sure which path I'd want him to choose, at this point--I only knew that whichever route he took, I'd support that decision completely. If it weren't for me coming into his life, he'd never be in this position anyway, so it was in a way my fault he had to make this awful choice. For that reason, at least, I was willing to suffer whatever consequences came of it.
So now what was I going to do? I had to wait for someone else to show up and take me out of this room, which I figured wouldn't be long in coming. Surely that guard out there would notify Dr. Grier that I was by myself, and ready to be collected. I couldn't even try to hide, or sneak out of the room, if that were even possible, because I knew if I did that, Steven or Kay (or both) would pay the price.
Perhaps I could use the computer, I thought to myself, at least to keep myself amused for a while, until someone came to get me. The machine was off, seeing as this looked like an abandoned office. More than likely, this used to be someone's room before they went Stage One and retired. Most buildings these days were full of such offices. The lights still worked, seeing as how Steven hadn't turned them off when he left, so that meant there was still electricity running, so the computer should probably work, if I could only throw the power switch.
I started to move around to the back of the console, where the "on" button probably was, and stopped cold in my tracks. The power cord was shaking! Why would it be doing that? Something, or someone, had to be moving it. But how? There was no one else in the room, unless...
As I watched in utter shock and amazement, two tiny gloved hands came into view, followed shortly thereafter by a woman clad entirely in black. She pulled herself effortlessly onto the desk, brushed a few cobwebs and some dust off herself, and removed her hood. A dark wave of hair tumbled down to her shoulders, framing a round face with obvious Hispanic features. Bright green eyes shone at me, and she smiled, stepping forward with a hand extended in greeting.
"Hey there, Natalie," she said affably, as if being here was completely ordinary and normal in every way. "Nice ta finally meet ya."
"Ya don't know me, but I sure as hell know you," my unlikely visitor went on, completely oblivious to my absolute stunned shock at her presence. Her accent was quite pronounced, and sometimes she slurred her speech, as if English was a second language to her. "The name's Aleta Rainero, by the way."
I looked at her dumbly. There was something about that last name...I'd heard it before, at least part of it, but I was still so surprised at seeing anyone here, least of all a three-inch Spanish cat burglar, that I couldn't really get any words out.
"In case ya mighta heard of 'em," Aleta went on, waving a hand in front of my obviously shell-shocked eyes, "my parents are Augusto and Consuela Rainero. They were two of the people who worked with Solomon Grier, durin' the days of that damn Project of theirs."
That was where I'd heard the name! The sudden recognition jarred me back to reality. Dr. Grier mentioned the Ranieros before, when he was telling me of his history. They were two of the ones who broke off from his group and went their separate ways, following some sort of disagreement over their ultimate goals.
"Oh! That's who you are!" I managed to finally say. "Yeah, I've heard of them. Sorry about that, I just...well, I wasn't expecting to see anyone here, that's all, least of all someone...well, my size, I guess."
"Yeah, can't imagine ya would," she said with a laugh. "Fortunately for me, neither does that bastardo Dr. Grier. I've been wanderin' round in the walls for mosta the day, doin' this and that, here and there. So much to do, so little time, and so little of me ta do it! It's amazin', though, how easy it is for a muñeca ta get past security."
"I suppose," I replied doubtfully. I vaguely remembered hearing that particular foreign word before, though I can't recall exactly where. La muñeca used to just mean "doll" in Spanish, but in the latest form of barrio slang, it now referred to anyone who'd progressed to Stage Three, and was thus considered useless. "Aren't you worried you might be seen in here? He said we weren't being watched, but I don't know how much of what he was telling me was true."
"Oh, yeah, the camera's on," Aleta told me, "so they could be watchin', for all the good it'll do 'em. It's up in the ceilin' over there, on the other side of the computer, but it don't show this angle, cause it's blocked by the monitor. So you and I can have a little chat if we want and they'll be none the wiser."
"They can't hear us?"
"Nope, I made sure the volume got turned way down, soon as your boyfriend took off. Nice guy, too, and I gotta admit, he sure knows how ta treat a girl! I wouldn't mind gettin' a little of that action myself."
Oh, no, she saw everything that happened! Where was she while all that was going on, anyway? Up above the drop ceiling somewhere? I felt myself turning red with embarrassment, and she laughed heartily at my difficulties. "Don't worry, chica, I'm just foolin' with ya. I got me a guy of my own, y'know, and he ain't changed yet, so we do all kinda fun stuff, kinda like what you got a taste of just then, but lotsa other things you ain't thought of yet. When this is all over, though, he'll go Stage Three, and we can go back ta makin' love the ol' fashioned way. Dr. Cutie there, though, he was right, y'know. It's fun for a while, but then ya start missin' the way it used to be. The way it really oughta be."
She sighed and wrapped her arms around her waist for a moment, obviously remembering something, and then shook herself back to reality and went on. "Well, anyways, that ain't why I'm here. We got some business we gotta talk about, before Dr. Grier or one of his lackeys shows up to fetch ya."
"Yeah, I suppose," I agreed, still not quite over the shock of seeing someone my size come out of nowhere like that. "What's going on? Why are you here?"
"Ain't it obvious?" she asked me point blank. "My folks, they don't get along with el bastardo too good. I got ta listen ta mosta his li'l speech earlier, and in case you ain't figured that out too, he's fulla so much crap he's puttin' manure companies outta business."
"I figured he must be," I replied, "but I can't think of how I have any choice but to go along with whatever he says. I'm too small to do anything, and Steven and Kay are prisoners somewhere."
"Well, first off, lemme change yer thinkin' a bit, chica," said Aleta, slapping me on the shoulder supportively. "Ya may be tiny, but ya ain't helpless, not by a long shot! Look at me, willya? I just spent my whole day tappin' inta phone lines and data feeds and cameras and microphones and all that sorta shit, and nobody gots a clue I'm even here! How helpless is that, hmm? It's all about the 'tude, ya see. If ya think yer a muñeca, then that's what yer gonna be, but it don't gotta be that way. Yer size is yer greatest asset, I'm tellin' ya! I don't got no fancy techno gadgets, neither, 'less ya count this here suit I'm wearin', which is just ta keep the sharp stuff off my skin. Plus it makes climbin' less of a hassle, y'know? Anyways, I can do just about anythin' I want at this size. I don't even miss the old me, 'cept when me an'--but yeah, ya get the idea there. So anyways, ya gots ta stop thinkin' of yerself as next ta nothin' and remember, yer new size gots some advantages, too. Ya just gots to find 'em, that's all."
Aleta's thick drawl made understanding her a bit difficult, as you may have noticed, and she talked almost too fast for me to follow, but I got the gist of what she was saying--or at least most of it, anyway. For someone so small, she sure seemed overconfident, and I have to admit it grated on me just a little. "I'm sure it's not so bad for you," I pointed out, "seeing as you've got people helping you, and taking care of you when you're not playing secret agent, but I've only got Steven, and they've basically got a gun to his head. So unless you have a plan for doing something about that, I don't see as how my size gives me any advantage at all."
"Fair enough, chica, and no, I don't got no plan for that yet, but I'm workin' on it. Yer right, though, I ain't alone here, oh no. There's help right around the corner, if ya know what I mean."
"No, I really don't know what you mean," I told her. Don't get me wrong, I appreciated that she was here, but I really didn't see how one three-inch spy was going to do anything unless she had a small army of normal-sized agents ready to come crashing through the windows at her command.
"Well, lemme just say not everybody 'round here is workin' for el bastardo," Aleta said cryptically. "Soon as we gots what we need, we're gonna take him down for good."
"You mean kill Dr. Grier?" I asked directly. Sometimes I really don't waste any time getting directly to the point, do I?
"Of course that's what I mean!" She laughed at me for a moment. "Ya think after all this time, when we finally gots our shot at him, we ain't gonna take it?"
"Well, why haven't you done it already?" I demanded. "Don't you have some kind of weapon you can use on him, even at your size? A poison dart or something?"
"Not that's reliable from any kinda distance," she replied with a sigh. "'Sides, them things is bulky as hell and hard ta carry around inside the walls. That ain't my job anyways. I'm just the recon team, ya see. And, right now, I'm doin' the diplomacy thing too. Parta what I'm doin' is lookin' for people I can count on as allies, and you look like just the right kinda chica fer the job."
"Allies for what? To join your war against Dr. Grier?" I shook my head and added a hint of intensity to my voice. "Look, I think you've got the wrong idea about me. I don't want any part of this! I didn't know about your little vendetta before today, and I don't want to have anything to do with it. All I want is to get out of here, with Steven and his sister, so we can go somewhere safe and get on with our lives. Can you arrange that, 'chica?' Because if you can, then sure, I'll help you however you like, but if not, just get back to whatever you were doing and leave me out of it!"
She frowned and remained silent for several moments, which was actually the first time since she'd shown up that she'd really stopped talking. The silence was rather refreshing, as it turns out. I felt a little bit empowered by the fact that I'd managed, for at least a couple of seconds, to make this overconfident little spy stop and think about what she was going to say next.
"Okay, fine, I get it," she replied with a shrug, not taking any offense at my words at all, as far as I could tell. "Ya don't see the whole picture, do ya? Nah, that'd be hard, I guess, fer someone like yerself. Here, lemme try ta explain, and this is gonna take a minute, so have a seat."
She patted the edge of the monitor stand by way of invitation, and we sat down next to each other. "All right, go ahead," I told her, and then I relaxed because I was pretty sure she was about to launch into a long speech. Nor was I mistaken.
"Before I went Stage One, see," Aleta began, staring off into space as she reached back into her own past, "my parents, they was still in el bastardo's li'l clique. He kept goin' on about findin' the Solution and keepin' it a secret, so only he and a few flunkies he could trust would be in charge of everythin'. He had all these grand ideas about rulin' the world, y'see, and changin' the way things worked fer good. He wanted to remake it all in his image, but y'know what? That's way too close to bein' like God than some of 'em could stand. Buy he's a sly one, that Solomon is, and he was makin' deals behind everyone's backs. One of them deals was with Arnold Schumacher, one of the other dudes who was immune, like he was.
"See, Arnold had a thing for me, even though he was twenty years older than I was. I didn't like him much at all, not one bit. Not just the age thing, neither. He was just mean 'n' rude, and he liked the idea of bein' in power, which was how el bastardo got to him. He promised Arnie that he could have me, y'see, when I was tiny, so I could be li'l pet for him to play with whenever he wanted. You probably ain't heard that one before, have ya? Heh-heh.
"So anyways, when Dr. Grier figgered out how ta make the Inducers, well, I was his first guinea pig, 'ceptin' I didn't know it at the time. We all thought it was just my turn, of course, 'cause that's how things was workin', but then Arnie, well, he didn't feel I was quite small enough, so he shrunk me all the way down ta Stage Three, and had his way with me. When my folks finally tracked me down, I was locked up in a cage, half catatonic from the things he'd done ta me, but my daddy, bless his heart, he shot ol' Arnie right between the eyes, and put an end ta that. Then they took me and ran, leavin' everythin' else behind, and we was the lucky ones, cause some of them others didn't make it out.
"Ever since then, we been hidin', but watchin' for whatever bullshit el bastardo's plannin' next, and now we finally got him in our sights. We're gonna do him good, I can promise ya that, but not till he finishes what he's up to. He's tryin' ta find the Solution, see, and that's what my folks want, too, and all the ones who's on our side. When we get it, we're gonna broadcast it, out on the Internet, and over the airwaves, to whoever's listenin', and then we don't gotta worry 'bout no more delusional retards like Solomon Grier tryin' ta rule the world.
"So there it is, that's what we're doin', and why, and if ya wants to help us ya can, and if not, ya can sit on the sidelines and hope ya don't get caught in the middle when it all goes down. That's all I gotta say. Think it over, chica, and if ya wants ta help, ya know where ta find me. Just stick yer head in an air vent someplace and yell, and I'll find ya. Gotta run now--someone's comin' and I don't wanna be found. Say hi ta Dr. Cutie fer me! Hasta!"
With that, she finished talking, which she'd managed to keep right on doing without giving me even the briefest moment to slip a word in edgewise, and literally leapt of the back of the desk, swiftly dropping out of sight. I ran to the side, afraid I'd see her broken body on the floor, but instead I only caught a glimpse of her gloved hands as she slid swiftly down the power cord. She was on the ground in seconds, and without even looking up to wave goodbye, she dashed off behind a surge protector and disappeared from sight. I don't even know where she went from there--maybe to a vent, like she said, or maybe into a crack in the floor. All I knew was she was gone, like a ghost, and just like that I was alone once more.
But only for a moment. The sound of the office door opening followed just a few seconds later. "Miss Patterson?" someone called out, and I realized it was Solomon Grier. "Are you still here?" As much as I didn't really like the man, his precise, perfunctory English, with the barest hint of a Bostonian accent, was a welcome relief from Aleta's slurry rambling.
There was no point in hiding. I stepped out from behind the computer and waved to get his attention. "Sorry, I was bored, so I did a little exploring," I told him as he drew closer. "What's going to happen to me now?"
"I'm going to take you somewhere," he replied, putting his hand down on the desk, palm up. I climbed in without hesitation; there was nothing else to do, after all. "Now come along, my dear. I'm about to have an important talk with someone, and I'd like you to be there to see it."
I nodded, and he opened his jacket coat, letting me slip into his pocket, as I had the last time he carried me around. I was actually grateful to be in the darkness, where it was warm, and there was no one else there to disturb me. The events of the last hour had left me somewhat dazed, and a bit overwhelmed, so I needed some time to think.
Meeting Aleta Rainero was definitely a morale booster. Having heard her story, I felt bad about how I'd reacted to some of the things she said, but she seemed to understand, or at the very least didn't mind my reactions. Perhaps I owed her a bit of an apology later, when or if I saw her again. Regardless of that, though, it was good to know someone else was here--someone who was willing to help me, and my friends, and do something about Dr. Grier. The fact that she was my size, and able to get around on her own, and could actually accomplish something--well, I didn't have her resources, of course, but at least that made me think I didn't have to be completely useless.
I didn't really approve of her methods, though. I would've been happier if they just stopped Dr. Grier right now, and worried about finding a Solution afterward. Maybe they were afraid they'd lose access to his notes and data, and perhaps they were right about that. I didn't know everything about how well protected those things were. Steven told me he'd looked at that stuff once before, but whether or not he still had access to it, I didn't know.
At the very least, I liked Aleta's idea for the Solution better than Dr. Grier's. Giving it to everybody would pretty much end anyone's plans for world domination. Sure, half the people on Earth would still be trapped at tiny size, but we were pretty much resigned to that anyway. Maybe, given time, a way to fix that could be found. Who knows? Getting the Solution to the rest of the world was the first step, though.
Of course, that all assumed that Aleta and her people were really going to do exactly that. Once again it came down to a matter of trust. How could I be sure what was really going to happen, once the Solution was found? I was going to have to choose a side, sooner or later, but which side would I pick? And what about those other people out there, also looking for a Solution? What would they have to say about this? It was enough to make my head spin.
Speaking of my head, it was starting to hurt from all these possibilities whirling around inside, so maybe thinking about all that wasn't the right thing to do after all. I sighed and settled down a little further into Dr. Grier's pocket, down amidst the little bits of thread and lint that over time had collected there. I almost wished I could stay where I was, where it was quiet and peaceful, and nobody would bother me. That wasn't right, though. I was never one to run away and hide from my problems, and I wasn't about to start now. I just wished I weren't so small. Aleta might be able to get around, but I couldn't. I didn't have her experience to draw upon. This was all still new to me, and despite seeing her roaming around freely, like she didn't have a care in the world, I still felt utterly helpless.
When I was young, I was like most other girls. I had the usual childhood dreams of being the damsel in distress, rescued by some prince and carried off to live in a castle, where I'd live happily ever after. That's the classic plot of all those fairy tale stories, as I'm sure you're well aware. The thing is, I wouldn't stop with some haphazard, nebulous idea of happiness. I'd actually try to visualize what would happen once I finally made it to my dream castle. I could picture myself ruling my little kingdom, hand in hand with my prince, like an equal, never just some beautiful piece of window dressing sitting on a throne. In other words, I wasn't going to be my prince's trophy wife. He would treat me with respect and we'd make decisions together, for the good of everybody. That was how I planned to live happily ever after, anyway.
So now here I was, the damsel in distress, under the wicked sorcerer's spell, waiting for my prince to come to my rescue. Would he be able to save me, and if so, what would happen then? How was I supposed to live happily ever after like this?
Dr. Grier had been walking through the halls this whole time, but I hadn't been paying much attention to that, with my mind on my own problems. Now he came to a halt, and I heard a door open, and voices beyond. These went immediately silent when at his sudden, and as far as I knew unannounced, arrival. "Well?" Solomon asked gruffly, and the door slammed behind him. "How's she doing?"
"The process is under way, sir," someone replied, and I recognized the voice as that ex-military guy, Sean Copeland. "As you can see, she's resting comfortably, and these trays should catch most of the runoff. The rest I'll clean up myself." He didn't sound too happy about that, but he did seem resigned to his fate.
"Excellent. I'd also like to apologize to you, Dr. Beck. I didn't know my associate here was going to do this to your sister."
Steven was here! Good, I was afraid they wouldn't let him see her. Before he could respond, though, someone else spoke. "Sir, I told you, I had no choice--"
"Silence!" Dr. Grier ordered, interrupting Phil Masterson before he could get another word out. "Step away from the woman, before you do any more damage."
I could hear Phil shuffling around, and I tried to imagine the hangdog look he must've had on his face. I managed to get myself to laugh a little at the idea of him scuttling away with his tail between his legs. Meanwhile, I heard Steven's voice speak up. "You didn't have to do this," he complained bitterly. "I'd already agreed to help you. First Natalie, and now Kay...my God, why?"
"She saw what happened to Natalie," explained Phil, trying to do his best to sound haughty, but I could hear the fear in his voice. I was obviously expecting to get his head bitten off by his boss at any moment. "She couldn't be allowed to report it to the media, or anyone else, which you know she would've. Besides, I had no idea she was your sister, y'know. You didn't exactly tell that to anybody!"
"Like it would've made a difference!" snapped Steven. "You would've done it anyway, you sick bastard!"
"Now listen here, you fuckin' egghead, I'm gonna--"
"Enough!" yelled Dr. Grier. There was a loud thump as of something striking an object close by, and the arguing came to an immediate halt. "I don't want to hear another word from either one of you! What's done is done! Now, Dr. Beck, I've made a couple of decisions, and the first is that I believe I can trust you. I know you realize that what happened to your sister was out of my control and was not something I planned. I'll address the matter of restitution in a moment, but for now, allow me to give you a token of my trust. Here, put out your hand. Right here, in front of me, please."
Dr. Grier's jacket moved and light shone in from above. I got to my feet hopefully and jumped, grabbing hold of the edge of the pocket and pulling myself up. For an instant I caught a glimpse of something I hadn't noticed before, a dark brown object inside his coat off to my left and just above me, but I didn't care about that. I was too busy taking in the sight of Steven's wide palm waiting invitingly just below me. I saw his face, too, and he looked startled at first, and then relieved to see me again. He cradled me gently as I made my way into his hand.
"Nattie!" he said quietly. "I'm so glad you're here!"
"Me, too," I admitted, curling up against his thumb while he ran his fingernail through my hair. I wanted to kiss him, of course, but this would have to do. Just being there in his firm, warm grip was enough for me.
"You can hold onto her for now," explained Dr. Grier. "I have something I need you both to watch, because it's important you understand what's happening, and why. This is about trust, and about some of the things I explained to you earlier. You see, the world I'm trying to create is not about giant people exploiting and mistreating tiny people, or using them for their own ends. It's come to my attention that someone in this room seems to have forgotten that."
He turned his eyes accusingly towards Phil, who began to glance about nervously. "Wait a second, sir," he protested. "I was tryin' to teach her a lesson! She couldn't just go on thinkin' she could interfere with what we're doin'--"
"Don't even start that with me, Dr. Masterson!" said Solomon accusingly. "You know exactly why you did what you did. Miss Patterson is an attractive young woman, and someone you've worked with for a long time. You've often fantasized about her, haven't you? And now that you had your chance, you took advantage of it."
He must've thought about denying it, but the truth was plain to see, right there on his face. Whatever else he was, my ex-boss wasn't a very good liar. "Oh, come on, sir, this ain't fair!" he insisted. "You told me she was gonna be my pet! I can treat my pets however I want!"
"That's not true, and you know it." Dr. Grier was shaking his head now, looking at Phil with something very much like pity. "I explained to you on several occasions what it means to keep a human being as a pet. She's supposed to be someone you can take care of and treat with kindness and respect. She's not a toy you can abuse in order to satisfy some pent-up sexual frustration."
Steven looked down at me with an expression of horror as he realized just what Dr. Grier was talking about. I could see the uncertainty in his eyes, as if he didn't believe what he was hearing, and all I could do was nod weakly. Then he flashed a glare of pure hatred in Dr. Masterson's direction, and I think if he felt he could get away with it, Steven would've set me down and charged Phil right then and there. Instead he just stood in place and seethed, waiting, as I did, to see how the rest of this was going to play out.
"That's not--oh, c'mon, sir!" Phil was starting to sound desperate, and he was looking around the room for a way to escape, but the only door was behind us. "Any man in my position woulda done the same!" he protested weakly.
"No, they wouldn't. I know Mr. Copeland here wouldn't, would you?"
Sean glanced up from his seat, where he'd been keeping quiet this whole time, occasionally glancing at the unconscious form of Kay, who was stretched out on a platform of seat cushions covered in plastic wrap. Her clothes were already starting to look baggy. "Me?" Sean asked, a glint of fear in his eye, and I was pretty sure he didn't really like being singled out just then. "Oh, no sir, I'd definitely not mistreat any pet of mine! I'll take good care of her, I swear!"
"You spineless idiot!" hissed Phil, but just as quickly snapped his mouth shut as Dr. Grier turned back to him. "Is that what's goin' on here? Did he tell you what I did? Cause he was doin' the same thing to her! I saw it myself!"
"Now, now, Dr. Masterson, don't try to point the blame at anyone else. This is about you, not him." Solomon shifted in his stance, and his eyes narrowed. "I'll let you in on a little secret, Dr. Masterson. I've never really liked you. The moment I gave you the slightest bit of power, you immediately abused it. I gave you an Inducer with the strict instructions to use it only on Dr. Beck's girlfriend, so she would go Stage One, thereby becoming something he would feel the need to protect. You took this as a license to use the Inducer however you pleased. I did not order you to force Miss Patterson to Stage Three, nor did I authorize your use of the Inducer on someone else."
"But sir, I had to--"
Dr. Grier held up a hand, and Phil instantly went quiet. I really thought he might just drop down on the floor at any second and start begging for forgiveness, maybe even lick those expensive patent leather shoes Dr. Grier was wearing, but instead Phil just stood there sweating and glancing about nervously. Maybe he was thinking about bolting for the door, but I doubt he would've made it.
"Perhaps I might've forgiven those lapses in judgment," Dr. Grier went on grimly, "but I absolutely cannot forgive your mistreatment of Miss Patterson. I simply cannot trust you any longer, and trust is the one thing I absolutely demand of all my associates. Since I cannot trust you, you are of no further use to me. Goodbye, Dr. Masterson."
Phil opened his mouth to speak, perhaps to beg one last time, but he never got the chance. Dr. Grier moved his right hand quickly into his vest, inside his jacket to where that brown thing was I'd briefly noticed before. I saw now that it was, in fact, a shoulder holster. When he withdrew the hand, it was holding a gun, one of those long barreled kinds with the wide ring of a silencer on the end. In a single fluid motion, he pointed the weapon at Phil Masterson and fired.
There was a kind of pop, and Phil's head snapped backwards. I didn't see any blood because I was already looking away, my whole body knotted up with shock. Steven's hand instantly came up to shield me from the view, but I heard the thump as that overweight body struck the floor. Every bit of what was left of me turned cold.
I should've been happy he was dead. I guess I was, in a way, but I was just too stunned by what just happened. I'd never witnessed someone's death before, and certainly not at the hands of someone else. Phil was gone, just like that, and Dr. Grier killed him right there in front of me!
"Now then," Solomon went on, casually putting the smoking gun back in his shoulder holster as if nothing unusual had happened, "you needn't worry about any further mistreatment from any more of my associates, Miss Patterson. I'll be keeping an eye on you from this point forward. Dr. Beck, if you do as I've asked, you may keep her for yourself, but I trust this lesson isn't lost on you."
"Uh...no, sir, it's not," Steven replied in a low voice. I couldn't read his emotions; his face was an ashen mask.
"Good. Now, feel free to stay with your sister for a short time, but then I'll need you back in your office. You can check up on her regularly through the day, if you wish, as long as it doesn't interfere with your research. Mr. Copeland, see to it Dr. Gutierrez is taken care of, and when she's finished with her transition, I expect you to treat her well."
"Yes, sir, of course," said Sean sternly. He didn't look shocked or afraid at all. I suppose to someone like him, who used to be in the military, seeing people getting shot was all in a day's work. Still, he'd seemed fairly chummy with Phil, so I thought perhaps I'd see at least some kind of other reaction, but I didn't.
"Now wait just a second!" Steven argued. "You can't just give my sister to this man, like she's a piece of property!"
"She'll be well taken care of, I assure you," replied Dr. Grier without a trace of concern in his voice. "Should you actually complete your task, and deliver a functional Solution to me, we'll see about returning her to your custody. In the meantime, she remains in the capable hands of Mr. Copeland, and that's final."
Steven clenched his fingers together, not so much as to crush me, but enough to show how angry he was. Yet he wasn't foolish enough to try to make a move, not so long as Dr. Grier was armed. "All right, damn you," he hissed. "I'll find your Solution, if there's one to be found, but I swear to God if my sister, or my Nattie, are hurt in any way, you won't live to regret it!"
"I think you'll find," replied Solomon with a smile, "that such threats won't be necessary. You can trust me, after all. Now, if you don't mind, I have some other things I need to take care of." He held out his hand.
Steven sighed and set me in Dr. Grier's palm. I knew he didn't want to give me up, of course, but there was little point in arguing about it. Besides, I think we were both just happy I wasn't going to wind up with Phil again.
"Thank you, Dr. Beck. She won't be mistreated." He turned to leave, but before he carried me away from Steven once again, he turned back to the other man. "Oh, and Mr. Copeland, one other thing."
"Yes, sir?"
Dr. Grier pointed at the other side of the room, where a small pool of blood was forming. "If you'd be so kind, please clean up that mess."
I wasn't put away in his pocket this time. Instead, Solomon cradled me in his palm as he walked, which as it turns out wasn't very far. He carried me to another empty office close by, and checking over his shoulder to make sure he wasn't observed, he stepped inside and turned on the lights.
This particular room had been mostly cleared of unused equipment. There was a desk, upon which set a small flatscreen television, hooked up to the building's power and cable system, but I barely noticed that. My eyes were fixed upon the cage on the table opposite. I knew what that prison was going to be used for, and I didn't like the idea at all.
Dr. Grier stopped and held me up to his face. "You don't approve of what happened with Phil Masterson," he noted. It was a statement, not a question.
"No," I admitted. "You killed him in cold blood."
"He left me no alternative." Dr. Grier shook his head, but showed no emotion whatsoever. "Dr. Masterson was a useful tool and nothing more. I would've preferred simply leaving him to his fate once my work was done here, but he was simply too reckless. As I said, he could no longer be trusted. Once I lose my trust in someone, there is no way to get it back. Do you understand, Miss Patterson?"
I nodded fearfully. His voice was quite a bit more forceful now, and I could tell he was through sweet-talking me. He was letting me know, in no uncertain terms, what would happen to me, or anyone else, who betrayed him.
"Good. It pains me to place you in something like this, but I'm afraid at this stage I simply can't take any chances. As you can see, I've done what I could to make your accommodations comfortable."
He held me down in front of the cage, which was long and rectangular, with thick bars set very close together. Inside, he'd padded the metal floor with soft towels. On the far side, I could see a plastic baggie with several different kinds of food inside: a cookie, several Fritos, a stack of crackers, and a fruit roll-up. A small Tupperware container sat nearby, filled with water. A plastic bottle cap rested in one corner, next to a few scraps of Kleenex. I supposed that would serve as a chamber pot of sorts. Clearly he intended to leave me here for quite some time.
"This is the best you could do?" I asked resignedly.
"I'm afraid so. I'll place the remote for the television here, so you can reach it." He slid the device over to the edge of the table, where I could reach it through the bars. "If you can't find anything on, I understand the building's intranet has access to a video library. You won't be able to reach the outside world, of course."
"Of course." Why should I be surprised by that? They probably had the whole place locked down, except for the few communications they were absolutely required to send. Sooner or later, someone out there would figure out something was up, but that could take days, or even longer, especially now that my committee had just been here the day before. Thanks to me, there was no reason to come back for weeks. Good job with that one, Natalie!
"I've tried to anticipate your initial needs as best I can," went on Dr. Grier, "but of course you must understand it wasn't intended that you be here, at least not in your present state. Should you need anything else, simply ask when I return to check on you later this evening. I'll try to find something else for you to wear, if at all possible, as that...that thing you have on simply won't do. Not that I mind your appearance, of course, but it's much too flimsy, don't you think?"
I nodded. Truth be told, I hadn't really thought about the makeshift bodysuit much, except when Phil so crudely peeled it off of me. The nylon was rather comfortable, surprisingly enough, but Dr. Grier was right, it did seem more like underwear than actual clothing. To his credit, Solomon hadn't yet seemed all that interested in my body, and for that I was rather grateful. If he wanted to cover me up a little better, more power to him.
"In any case, I'll see what I can do," he went on with a smile. "Now go on inside. I'll be back in a few hours, and I'll see about arranging a visit with Dr. Beck in the meantime. Goodbye, Miss Patterson."
He waited while I climbed off his hand and into the cage, then closed the little door behind me and snapped the latch shut. To my dismay, he then produced a small padlock and sealed me in. This was one of the kinds with a key, as well, not one of those combination ones I could eventually pick.
He didn't waste any further time, but turned and departed quickly. Just like that, I was alone, yet again. I tested the bars, and the gate, but the cage was quite secure. Even with my extra strength at this size, I wasn't able to force the bars apart even in the slightest.
For a moment I started to cry, what with the hopelessness of my situation, and the humiliation of being trapped inside a cage built for rodents, but I just as quickly stopped myself. I'd done enough crying today, hadn't I? There wasn't any point in it anymore. I'd been through worse than this, that's for sure.
There was nothing to do but wait. I spent some time just checking out my "accommodations," as Dr. Grier so distinctively put it, and found I really didn't have much to complain about. There was plenty of food, and I could get the plastic Ziploc baggie open and closed easily enough. The water was fresh and I had enough in that bowl to go swimming in, if I wanted to. I would've preferred a better bathroom, but I could make do with what I had, seeing as he'd even included a small chunk of cloth I could use to cover up the bottle cap after I'd done my business.
I also considered my predicament for a while, but there wasn't much to really contemplate. I was stuck here until something else happened, basically. I couldn't exactly leave, as far as I could tell--even if by some Houdini-style miracle I could escape the cage, there was probably a hidden camera in here somewhere, just in case I tried anything of the sort. Plus, after what I'd seen with Phil, I wasn't about to take that kind of risk. Dr. Grier wouldn't need a bullet to get rid of me, you know. All it would take was a quick thrust of his heel.
I was still a little bit shocked by what had happened with Dr. Masterson. True, the man was a scumbag, but did he really deserve to be executed like that? And that's what it was, an execution. Not only that, it was done specifically to show me and Steven that he meant business. He probably had that Sean Copeland person in there too on purpose, so he could get the same message. Well, if nothing else, at least that meant Kay would be in good hands. Well, not exactly good, but you know what I mean.
I sat there for a bit just letting things bounce around in my head, and taking stock of my situation, but like I said, it was pretty straightforward. After maybe fifteen minutes I pretty much came to the conclusion that I was totally screwed, which I guess I already knew. Thinking about it was just giving me a migraine. So, I went to the television and switched it on, reaching through the bars to access the remote. Dr. Grier was right, there wasn't much on, so I went looking for movies to watch, just to pass the time.
Several hours later, in the middle of the third film, Dr. Grier returned, and he seemed to be in a bit of a hurry. He didn't say much, except to ask if I was all right, which I was, and then he dropped something into the cage with me. "It's the best I could do on short notice," he remarked, and then rushed back out the way he came in.
I opened up the package he'd slipped inside and found, to my surprise, that it contained a miniature white jumpsuit, rolled up around a pair of canvas boots with thick plastic soles. Where he got this stuff, I had no idea. When he mentioned finding clothes for me, I'd assumed he was going to return with something taken from a dollhouse somewhere. This wasn't doll clothing, though. The outfit looked like it'd been designed specifically for someone my size.
The jumpsuit wasn't cloth; it was made of something stretchy, like a cross between silk and Spandex, but thicker and tougher. Since it was too small for a zipper, it had to be laced up in the front, but that was fine with me. Like the crude nylon thing I'd been wearing, it was a bit tight for my tastes, but at least it covered me up, and looked better too. The boots were loose, but I left the nylon socks on, so hopefully I wouldn't get any blisters.
Someone went to a lot of trouble to make this, I thought, and immediately my mind went back to what I remembered of my encounter with Aleta. She'd been wearing something similar to this, hadn't she? Hers was black, and covered with dust, but it was basically the same thing, except her boots and gloves were heavier. That got me thinking that maybe this was the sort of thing they were making people wear, once they progressed to Stage Three.
So, this was what passed for fashion once you finished your transition and moved on to life in a mini-city! Not too bad, I decided, although it looked pretty plain. No doubt they had belts and such to go along with the basic design, and probably different colors and accoutrements once you made it to the city itself. They wouldn't have been that concerned with such things for new arrivals, though. You'd be issued something simple to start with, and go from there.
I thought about seeing Steven in something like this, and I had to smile. The tight outfit didn't really hide much, and he'd probably look real good in it, too. No doubt he'd think the same of me, and make some sexist comment, to which I'd laugh, and give him a playful shove, and then--
God, how I missed him! I wanted him here with me right now! I was bored and lonely and even the addition of something new to wear wasn't helping at all. The movie was terrible and all I was really doing was passing the time.
I had to stop myself from breaking down once again. I wasn't going to cry, I told myself. That wouldn't help. I wasn't going to feel better anyway. The best thing to do was pick another film, this time something funny, or upbeat, or action-packed, or something. Anything to get my mind off Steven, and the hopeless situation I was in.
I went over to the remote and clicked off the movie. I was about to start looking for something else when I quite clearly heard someone call my name. "Natalie!" the voice called, in a sort of shouted whisper. "No, don't look, dammit! Just keep on clickin' on that thing! Pick somethin' else, then move yer ass back here!"
I recognized the voice, of course, and that thick accent as well. It was Aleta!
I was surprised to hear her, of course, and fumbled around for something on the screen, picking something entirely at random. I was trying to look like I wasn't doing anything unusual, in case they could see me on a hidden camera. After pretending to look satisfied with my choice of films, I meandered back to the corner of the cage, where I opened up the plastic bag and started nibbling on the edge of a cookie. "What are you doing here?" I asked casually, keeping my voice low.
"Talkin' ta you," she replied succinctly, but I didn't see her at all. She was somewhere below the metal lining around the bottom edge of the cage's frame, completely out of sight. "Just act all normal like and don't try ta find me. The camera's got a pretty good line on this place. Had ta climb up the cord real careful, so it didn't bounce around."
"What's going on out there?" I asked curiously, more than a little bit envious of her ability to wander around freely inside the walls. "Outside this room, I mean. I'm going out of my mind stuck in this thing. I've got no idea what's happening."
"Your boyfriend's workin' on somethin'," she told me. "Some kinda big chair gizmo in one of the labs. He was in his office, focused in on his computer, for a while, then he started printin' out all kinda specs and whatnot. Now he's got people helpin' him modify this funky chair of his. El bastardo's real interested too, whatever the damn thing is."
"I wish I knew," I responded truthfully. "I haven't seen him since Phil Masterson was shot, so I have no idea."
"Yeah, I heard about that one," she told me. "What a damn shame! He was such a swell guy, a real class act." Her voice was thick with sarcasm, and then she went back to speaking normally. "Good fuckin' riddance, I say! Anyhow, while they's all busy down there in the lab, I wanted ta ask if ya thought any more 'bout what I said."
"About helping you? Yeah, a little." The truth was, I really hadn't. I just didn't have enough information to go on. Who was she, really? And what kind of people were her parents? I didn't really know, but on the other hand, I did know what sort of man Solomon Grier was, and I didn't like him very much at all.
I hadn't been thinking about this very much in the last few hours, but somewhere along the line, I really had made a decision. Not one that came consciously, but something that just kind of formed on its own, based on what I'd seen Dr. Grier do to Phil, and some of the things they both said. Dr. Grier may have been trying to win my trust, or scare me into obeying him, but all he really did was drive me away. I'd already decided, in the back of my mind, that I wasn't going to help him any more, if there was any way I could possibly avoid doing so.
"Well, whatcha say?" Aleta went on. "You gonna help us or what?"
"Yes," I agreed at last. "Yes, I will. I'm in. What do you want me to do?"
"Good, that's what I like ta hear, someone reasonable," she said, sounding very pleased with my decision. "Okay, then, here's the thing. I've been watchin' el bastardo as much as I can, and he and his goons are busy li'l bees. They got explosives in the buildin', here and there, mostly 'round computers, but also in that there lab. Once they got what they want, they're gonna blow the place, I'm sure. No sense leavin' behind any evidence, y'know? What we need, if we can get it, is a crack at the info before that happens, but I don't got the stuff to hook into the computers, not at my size anyways. You got any idea how we might be able to tap in?"
"Not really," I replied honestly. "I never had access to their network myself. Maybe if you accessed one of the terminals in an unoccupied office?"
"Thoughta that already. They're all off the net. Sticklers for security, these people. Yeah, I could sneak onto one when someone leaves their office, I guess, but what then? I don't got no way ta copy anythin', even if I do find it. I think it's just Dr. Cutie's account anyways, and they got him watched real careful like."
I really wished she wouldn't call him that, but of course I doubted very much I could make someone like Aleta do anything, and besides, it wasn't like the nickname wasn't accurate. "If I could talk to Steven," I began, emphasizing his name ever so gently, "maybe I could ask him to make a copy of--"
I stopped in mid-sentence, because something popped into my head just then, something I'd completely forgotten up until now. On the note he'd stuck on my shoulder, back when I saw him for the first time after going Stage One, he'd said something I hadn't really grasped at the time, but now suddenly made much more sense. In case you forgot, like I almost did, these were his exact words:
We found the Solution, but someone beat us to it. They've had their own Solution for years, and they're hiding it from the rest of the world. If we talk about it, they'll kill us like they did Dr. Kleinmann. I've been compiling his research onto a minidisc, which I'll hide in my office, in plain sight. Find it, and give it to someone you can trust.
We found the Solution! That's what he said, word for word. Not "we found the cause," or "we have some ideas," or anything like that, which is what I'd read that to mean, back when I first saw the note. They found an actual, honest-to-God, real Solution!
So that meant, thanks to Dr. Kleinmann and his team, that Steven must've known all the way back then what caused people to shrink, and how to stop it! He wasn't actually trying to find a Solution anymore--he was trying to implement one! So when he told me earlier today about his moral dilemma of whether or not to help Dr. Grier, he wasn't talking about research--he was talking about constructing the devices needed to bring it all about!
And what's more, he'd compiled all that information on to a minidisc, which he'd hidden in his office! And the someone I could trust, the one I originally hoped to find back in the Committee...well, that person was Aleta!
"What?" she asked curiously, obviously curious about my sudden silence. "You chokin' on somethin'? Cause I ain't comin' in there ta save ya, if that's what's happenin'."
"No, it's not that," I replied excitedly. "I think I can help you after all! I know exactly what you need, and I know where it is, too. Steven has it in his office, hidden somewhere, someplace only I can find it. I'll give it to you, but you have to agree to help me out of this place. Kay, too, and Steven. You have people who can help us, right?"
"Well, yeah, sorta," she admitted, and from her tone, I immediately wondered just how much help she really had available. Had she just been blowing smoke about that before, trying to make herself sound more important than she was? "If they try ta break in, though, it's gonna get messy. I can get you outta there, sure, but I can't help yer friends much. Us muñecas, we ain't known fer our combat skills. Stealth, sure, I got that, but soon as I get spotted, it's all over."
So, her friends weren't actually in the building at all! They were someplace else nearby, though. The Henderson Science Center was a standalone facility, built in an open area with a large parking lot and very little else surrounding the building. Her allies would be close, but not within sight, which more than likely placed them in one of the apartments about half a mile away, best case. Hopefully they had a vehicle of some kind, or they'd be very slow in arriving if things went wrong.
"Okay, well, I know Steven put certain information on a disc and hid it in his office," I told her, which was taking a bit of a risk since she might be able to find it on her own. Still, she was going to ask that anyway, so I might as well volunteer the information. "I'm not exactly sure where, but he told me something I'm pretty sure will help me find it. If you can get me out of here, I'll give it to you. It's what Steven wanted, anyway. Just try to find out where Kay's being held, and I'll see if I can get a message to Steven so he knows we're all right. Maybe he can come up with something, or at least be ready when your people show up."
"Sounds good ta me," she agreed readily. "Here's what I'm gonna do, then. I gotta head back before someone comes to check up on ya, and I'll go see what's up with la hermana de novio." At least, I think that's what she said. My Spanish is terrible, I'm afraid, but it was definitely something like that. "Also, I got work ta do on that camera up there. Gonna try ta set up one of them feedback loops, y'know what I mean? So it repeats. See if ya can take a nap or somethin' that gives me a lotta stuff ta record, okay?"
"Sure," I agreed, seeing as I was already pretty bored anyway, and starting to feel a little bit run down. I was still worried about Kay and Steven, and now had the excitement of a possible way out of this, but I thought I could coax a nap out of myself if I tried hard enough.
"Okay, then, I'm gonna come back when I can," she replied. "Ya gotta realize, though, once I do come back down here fer ya, there ain't no turnin' back. We go into that wall, we're gone fer good. I'll help yer boyfriend for ya if I can, any ways I can, but I ain't makin' no promises. Ya need ta know that. Understand?"
"Yeah, I think so." I replied with more confidence than I really felt.
"Good. I'm outta here, then. Back later. Hasta!"
I heard her scamper off, but I didn't go watch her leave. I was too busy thinking about what she'd just said there at the end, about what might happen to Steven. I shuddered, because what she was implying was that as soon as someone found out I was gone, they'd go straight for him. Without me there to act as an insurance policy against his betrayal, he'd surely turn on them. They might well just send him the way of Phil Masterson once he'd done what they asked, just to keep that from happening.
In fact, the more I thought about it, the more I was pretty sure that's exactly what they were planning to do anyway. What would they need him for? He would just be another loose end. Steven must've known this, too, because he was a smart guy, bless his giant heart, which meant the only reason he was helping them was because of me. That made it all the more imperative I escape, taking Kay with me if at all possible, and let him know I was safe.
But would he be able to escape as well? I had no way of knowing.
After Aleta was gone (which I assume she was, since I didn't watch her leave, and really had no idea how she even got onto the table in the first place without me hearing her), I pretended to go back to watching the movie. I don't even remember what it was, except that I'd seen it before and it sucked, so after a couple of minutes I threw up my hands and clicked it off. Then I got a drink of water, used the makeshift toilet, and crawled underneath a corner of the blanket to take a nap.
I thought perhaps I'd have trouble sleeping, but as it turns out, that wasn't the case. I dropped off almost immediately. The blanket was extremely warm and soothing, and I was quite exhausted already. My body wasn't really used to being Stage Three yet, and everything I'd seen and heard that day had worn on my mind as well. So I was out like the proverbial light.
I don't know how much time passed after that, exactly. At least a few hours, I'm sure. I woke up to the sound of the door opening outside my cage, and when I got to my feet, I felt surprisingly refreshed. A few deep breaths were all it took to get me wide awake again and ready to go.
I thought it would be Dr. Grier coming into the room, but to my surprise, it was Sean Copeland. He was still dressed the same, in that dark suit of his, but it looked a bit wrinkled, as if he'd slept in it. He approached cautiously, letting the door shut quietly by using a foot to keep it from slamming. His hands were clutching something very carefully, as if he was holding a handful of water that might spill at any second.
"Hi, Natalie," he said nervously. "Sorry to disturb you. I didn't mean to wake you up."
"It's all right," I replied, wondering what he might be holding onto with such concern, and then it struck me--he was carrying Kay! She must've finished her transition!
"I need to leave her with you," Sean informed me, still looking quite worried about something--perhaps Kay's welfare, and perhaps something else entirely. "Would that be all right? She's going to wake up soon and I don't want her in my pocket when that happens. There's nowhere else that's really safe."
"Sure, I'll be happy to help," I agreed readily. After all, Kay had been there for me when I woke up after going Stage Three. The least I could do was repay the favor. Plus, having her here would make escaping all the easier. "Dr. Grier locked this up pretty tightly, though."
"That's fine," said Sean. "He gave me a key. Just let me set her down."
He carefully eased Kay out onto the table. She looked all right, although all I could see was her face, since she was wrapped up in a handkerchief. The expression she wore as she slept was almost blissful.
Once she was safely in place, he removed a key and opened up the cage. I helped him slide her inside, onto the blanket, and once he was satisfied she was all right, he dropped a package next to me. As it turned out, this was exactly the same sort of clothing Dr. Grier had delivered to me earlier in the day. Wherever these outfits came from, he must've picked up a set for Kay as well.
"She looks like she's doing all right," I told Sean, unable to avoid letting a tone of hostility slip in my voice. "I suppose you could've done whatever you wanted, though, while she was shrinking."
He wrinkled up his face for a moment. "You haven't actually seen anyone transition before, have you?"
"No, I haven't," I admitted.
"Trust me, there's nothing appealing about it. It's very...messy." He grimaced again, and I really didn't want to think about what that must've looked like. "Yeah, I gave her a bath in the sink afterwards, but I don't think I've ever been less turned on in my life. Not that I would've done anything anyhow."
"Sure, after what happened with Phil Masterson, I can understand that," I pointed out.
"No, you don't get it." Sean sighed and pulled up a chair, sitting down in front of me with a haunted look on his face. "You heard what I said when you were in the briefcase, right? I only said those things because Phil was there. That guy scared me, and I wanted to stay on his good side. I didn't really do anything to her, I just pretended to, so he'd think I was like him. I'd never hurt a woman in that way. Ever."
"Sure you wouldn't," I replied doubtfully. "Someone like you, holding someone tiny like me, you could do anything!"
"I would never do that!" Sean shook his head vehemently. "I know this may be difficult for you to believe, but I'm actually on your side. I don't want to ever see any tiny people hurt in any way. You should all be protected and cared for, and that's exactly what I intend to do. You may not trust us, and I can understand why, but I believe in Dr. Grier's plan. That's why I'm here. Not just because I get to stay normal sized, but because I can help keep people safe. That's why I joined the military in the first place, you know. That's what I've always wanted to do. This is just another way to do that. The best way I know how."
"So you help Dr. Grier kill people in order to help others, is that it?" I jabbed, unable to resist the opportunity. Sean sounded like someone who'd managed to delude himself into working for the wrong team, and I just had to try to change his mind, or at least make him doubt his own conclusions.
"I don't approve of his methods all the time," Sean went on, "but he's doing the best he can, too. I would never have shrunk you like that, though, and I wouldn't have done it to Kay, either. Neither of you deserved it. There just wasn't any alternative."
"As I recall," I said accusingly, "you're the one who suggested Kay be shrunk down in the first place. So she could be given to you as a pet, in fact."
He hung his head in shame. "Yeah, that looks bad, I know, but listen, Phil was going to kill her and dump her body in some trash can someplace. The only way I could think of to stop that from happening was to pretend to want her for myself."
Actually, that sounded pretty plausible to me, but I still had my doubts. He could just be feeding me a line, for all I knew, although there seemed to be no reason for him to do so. I kept on questioning him, trying to figure him out. "So you don't really want her for a pet?"
"No, of course not," he insisted. "Why do you think I'm here? I just want to keep her safe, that's all. Besides, I don't think she'd really appreciate being a pet. No one would. Well, most people wouldn't, anyway, but I'm certainly not going to force it on anyone."
"You should be careful when you say things like that," I responded. "You never know who might be listening."
"There's no audio in here," Sean replied with a shrug. That was useful information, at least, and it made me feel better about my earlier conversation with Aleta. "I can say whatever I like, so that's what I'm going to do. Here's the deal, then. I'm going to pretend she's still mine, okay? I'm just keeping her in the cage with you while I find someplace better to put her, someplace she can be happy and safe. Later on, when Dr. Grier's around, I may have to pretend to be in charge, like I'm her owner, but I really don't think of her that way at all. Is that cool with you?"
"I guess so." What else could I say? Sean Copeland certainly wasn't turning out to be the cruel and heartless bastard I thought he was. He might be making all this up, but it didn't make a lot of sense for him to do that. What purpose would it serve? He could just as easily dump Kay in here without a word, or put her in some drawer someplace for all I knew. Instead, he was trusting me with this, and if nothing else it made me feel a little bit better about him, and about what might be in store for Kay.
"Good, that's a relief," Sean went on. "Just don't let on, all right? And tell her about this, too, so she's ready for it when I come back. Now I'd better go. I told Dr. Grier I'd get to the lab as soon as she was cleaned up and put away, and he doesn't like to be kept waiting."
"Wait," I insisted, deciding it was time for a little misdirection, and information gathering besides. "What's going on out there? I haven't heard any news since I got dumped in this thing."
"I'm not sure," Sean answered readily. "Dr. Beck built something down there and he's running tests on it right now. Maybe it has something to do with the Solution. God, I hope so! I'm sick of all this sneaking around. It'll be so much better when we can get everyone on the team inoculated and start preparing for the next phase."
"What do you mean, the next phase?"
"Didn't Dr. Grier explain his whole plan to you?" inquired Sean with a raised eyebrow. "I thought he told you everything."
"Just up to the present, I'm afraid. I don't know what happens next."
"Oh. Well, I'm sure it won't hurt to tell you. It's not like you're going anywhere, or that it's any big secret." He shrugged and continued on. "Once we have the Solution, all the people who are on the team will be given permanent immunity. I don't know how many that is, exactly. Depends on how many make the cut. Assholes like Phil Masterson wouldn't, for example, but I'm pretty sure I'm in. He looks for people like me, people who want to help others, and keep them safe, and I have no intention of disappointing him."
"Sounds noble enough," I admitted, with the barest hint of sarcasm. Sean didn't seem to notice, though.
"Anyway, once we're all taken care of and in place," he went on, "then we move to what Dr. Grier calls Phase Three of the operation, but a lot of us like to call Stage Three, because that's what it's all about. You've seen an Inducer, right? Well, he's going to use them on everybody, on all the remaining people who aren't yet finished changing, to force them to the final transition."
"But why?" I asked worriedly. "Why do that? That doesn't make a lot of sense. If you want to help people, why force a change? Why not let it happen naturally?"
"Well, you can ask Dr. Grier if you want the full explanation," said Sean with another shrug, "but basically, it's because society is breaking down. Haven't you noticed how there are fewer people out there on the streets, fewer police and soldiers, and all that? And fewer buses on the roads, and less of everything? Well, as more and more people get small, those resources will dry up too quickly to sustain the rest of them. There won't be enough soldiers to patrol the cities, and there won't be enough food shipments to supply everyone. Eventually, as Dr. Grier puts it, it'll reach a "threshold of anarchy" where it's every man for himself. That day is coming, Natalie, and that's what Phase Three is going to stop."
I nodded slowly. That was a scenario I'd never even really thought about before, but Sean was probably right. We'd already reached the fifty percent point--what would happen when we got to ninety percent, or more? What happened when the buses stopped, and the restaurants all closed, and the stores were gone? What would keep someone from just going crazy and doing whatever he wanted, starting fires or looting or whatever? I thought I'd seen the worst of this with the rioting that followed the initial onset of martial law, but that might've been just the tip of the iceberg.
At least Dr. Grier's plan would put a stop to that, if they could pull it off. "Okay, that makes more sense to me now," I admitted freely. "Thank you for filling me in, Mr. Copeland."
"Sean, please," he insisted. "Dr. Grier calls everyone by their last names, because that's just the way he is, but you don't have to. Just call me Sean."
"Okay, Sean. Now, if you don't mind, what happens after this Phase Three of yours?"
"Well," he replied, "we assist where we can, of course, and get all the people we can to the mini-cities that have already been built. After that, we become caretakers of those places, making sure they're protected from the elements, wild animals, that sort of thing. Dr. Grier's been pretty sketchy on the details of how all that's going to work, except that we aren't going to set ourselves up as gods or anything. We're just going to lend a hand, where we need to."
"I said it before, but I'll say it again," I told him, biting back the sarcasm this time, "that really does sound very noble."
"Well, I gotta tell you, Natalie," he replied enthusiastically, "this is exactly what I've always wanted to do. I almost feel like I was born for this. I'm going to enjoy every minute of it, and I promise, I'll do whatever I can to keep you and Kay safe."
"Thank you," I replied, managing a smile.
He returned the gesture, then without hesitation locked up my cage and turned to leave. "Thanks for listening, by the way. I'd better head out. Tell Kay I'm sorry about what happened to her, but I'll treat her kindly, I promise. Goodbye!"
Before I could say anything else, he was gone.
As soon as the door slammed shut, I hurried over to make sure he'd really fastened the lock. I was hoping he'd managed to forget, or not completely click it shut, but he had. Unfortunately. I hadn't really thought about how Aleta was going to get me out of this cage, and maybe she hadn't either. Or, more likely, she had a way to do it and just hadn't shared that with me yet.
That seemed more likely, actually. I sighed, figuring it was my lot in life to be kept in the dark about things like that, and headed over to check on Kay. She was all right, at least as far as I could tell, and seemed to be sleeping peacefully. There was nothing to do but wait for her to wake up.
Fortunately, I didn't have to wait long. I went over to have a snack, noting already that it was true how I hadn't yet felt hungry enough to eat a whole meal, but preferred to nibble here and there, and while I was doing that I saw Kay stirring. She was halfway out of the handkerchief and starting to stumble around before I could get over there.
"Kay, it's me, Natalie," I called out. "Don't move too quickly. You probably already know why."
She nodded, eyes open wide and staring at nothing. I knew from recent experience just what she was going through. Her pupils were so big they almost made it impossible to tell her eyes were brown. "When those men grabbed me," Kay sighed in resignation, "I guess I knew what had to come next. Judging by the sound of your voice, I guess I'm Stage Three like you?"
"Yeah, I'm afraid so, but at least you woke up at all," I replied, trying to make her feel at least a little bit better about her situation. "They were debating just eliminating you, but decided not to."
"If you had anything to do with that, I guess I'm in your debt," she told me. She stood up, letting the handkerchief fall away, showing absolutely no fear of being in the nude. "Where are we? I can't see much, but there are shapes, and...lines?" She stepped forward cautiously, and her questing hands met the bars of the cage. "Oh. Right. Guess I should've known, huh?"
"Here, let me give you this," I insisted, handing her the rolled-up jumpsuit that Sean had so thoughtfully provided. "This is something to wear. They gave me something like it, too. I think it's one of the things they give people when they hit Stage Three. Standard issue clothing, or something."
"Oh, good. I was thinking it was a big chilly. Thanks, Natalie." She unrolled the outfit and started the process of figuring out how to put it on, which I guess would've been hard without being able to see it. I helped out where I could. "Guess it beats a piece of old hosiery stitched up with my aunt's sewing kit, huh?"
"That's true," I admitted. "Although I did appreciate that very much, I admit I'm glad to be rid of it."
"I bet you are." She managed to get the jumpsuit on, after a bit of effort, and blinked a few times, looking around. Her vision must've been slowly improving, just like mine did. "Great, just great, we're in a cage. At least we have television, though. How nice. And food. All the comforts of home." She stepped over to the plastic bag, which I'd left open, and cracked off a chunk from a Frito. Nibbling on this, she slowly made her way around the rest of our little home, taking in the sights and not really saying much else.
I wanted to tell her everything, but didn't want to overwhelm her all at once. She seemed to be recovering quickly, as I had, but I wasn't really sure if it would last. "Do you feel all right?" I inquired worriedly.
"I feel fine," she answered, taking a couple of jumps just to test her leg muscles. "Actually, I feel like I could run a marathon. I'm practically bursting with energy. I'm also extremely pissed off. Not at you, Natalie, don't get me wrong. I'm mad at those men, those people who did this to me, and at myself for letting it happen. I shouldn't have gone somewhere so obvious. I should've taken you out of the city."
"It doesn't matter," I explained. "They would've found us anyway. They tracked you with your pager."
"Aw, shit." She slammed a hand into one of the bars, which only made her wince in pain. "I should've known! Damn, damn, damn!"
"It's okay, don't worry about it, it's water under the bridge now." I put a hand on her shoulder and gave her a little shake. "This may work out for the best, anyway. A lot's gone on since you were out, Kay. Are you ready to hear it?"
She nodded slowly. "I think so."
"Okay, then, here goes."
I proceeded to update her on everything that had happened, and while I did, she took a few jogging laps around the inside of the cage, just to work off some of that extra energy left over from the transition. About the time I got to the part where Phil got shot, she started to look tired and went over to get some water. This produced a fit of coughing until she figured out you had to be a little bit more careful drinking at our size. Liquids are much thicker and harder to swallow, after all.
When I was done, she asked a few questions, which I did my best to answer. She seemed unsure about whether or not to trust Aleta, or Sean, or pretty much anyone I'd mentioned except Steven. Maybe not even him, either, because whatever the "chair thing" was he was building certainly didn't sound like something either of us wanted to see finished. After all, as I've already mentioned, I was pretty sure they were going to discard him (and probably Kay and I as well) as soon as he was done.
"All right then," Kay finally said, "now that you've gotten me up to speed, what exactly is our plan for getting out of this?"
"Right now, I'm planning to go with Aleta when she comes back," I answered. "She seems to be able to move around pretty freely in the walls, and once we're in there they probably won't be able to get us out very easily."
"Okay, and then what?"
"Well, Steven told me he was hiding that minidisc in his office in plain sight," I replied. "So we'll go there and find it, assuming nobody else is in the room when we get there. If Aleta lives up to her end of the bargain and agrees to take us to safety, and help rescue Steven, I'll give it to her."
Kay nodded. "That's all well and good, but what happens to Steven?"
"Once Aleta has the disc," I explained, "her people are going to come in here and deal with Dr. Grier and the rest of his cronies. They can free Steven in the process." That was about as far as I'd thought about the whole plan, but it seemed to me I had little choice but to trust Aleta and her people. Maybe they'd turn out to be worse than Dr. Grier, but I somehow doubted that, and besides, I had the disc to use as my bargaining chip. Naturally, I wasn't planning to hand it over until she'd given me some assurance that Steven would be protected.
"No, I don't buy that," Kay protested. "I don't know anything about her or her parents and the rest of her people. How do we know that if we do what she says, we aren't jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire?"
"Well, I don't know for sure," I said honestly, "but you didn't see Phil Masterson get shot, or the way Dr. Grier did it. He just casually pulled out a pistol and put a bullet in Phil's head, without showing a trace of emotion at all. He was so...so cold about it. Phil was of no further use to him, and that's all he cared about. Is that the sort of person we want running things when everyone's our size? Yeah, it's possible Aleta's people may be worse, but somehow I doubt that."
"Okay, fine, you've got a point there, but we still don't really know their motivations. What if she tells us what we want to hear, just so we'll give her the disc, and then she leaves Steven to die? You already said there were explosives in the building--what's her plan to deal with that? I don't want this whole place going up while we, or Steven are still inside!"
"Well, neither do I," I assured her, "but what choice do we have? We're stuck in this cage unless we agree to let her help us, and if we don't, she's going to eventually bring her people in here to take out Dr. Grier anyway, and then where will we be?"
"We'll be right here," Kay replied with a shrug. "Why not just let them do that, Natalie? Just relax right here, in this room, while they beat the shit out of each other, and then see who's left standing to pick up the pieces? At least then we won't get caught in the crossfire."
"That still doesn't help Steven," I noted. "And we may still wind up in Dr. Grier's hands anyway. Or the building may blow up all around us. I don't know about you, but I don't want to die in a hamster cage!"
She thought about that for a moment and then nodded in agreement. "Okay, fine, that's another good point, but I still just don't know. Like you said, as soon as we go into the walls with Aleta, we're committed. I want to talk to her, and find out more about her plan, before I agree to do that. Plus I want to find out just what the hell Steven is up to down in the lab."
"Maybe Aleta can fill us in about that. She's probably got some way of--"
Before I could finish that thought, I heard footsteps approaching the door outside, and stopped in mid-sentence. The door opened a moment later, and Sean was standing there. "Ah, good, you're awake," he said with a smile, approaching and leaning over to look in at his little prisoners. "I hope you're feeling all right."
"I'm fine," Kay replied. "I remember you. You were one of those men who showed up after Dr. Kleinmann's heart trouble, back when this all started."
"Yes, I'm sorry if I seemed a bit too...businesslike," Sean replied apologetically. "I was under very strict orders. I certainly didn't mean to treat you with any disrespect."
"You should've let me administer his medicine," Kay complained. "He might still be alive. His heart--"
"It wasn't his heart." Sean shook his head. "I know you think we killed him, but the truth is, he killed himself."
"That's not true!"
"I'm afraid it is. We had a medic check him out. He'd taken a particular combination of drugs that he must've known would induce a heart attack. He knew exactly what he was doing, and he committed suicide rather than help us. A shame, really, because if he'd allowed us to induce a transition, he body would've very likely repaired itself and he'd be alive and healthy today."
Kay turned away from him, and I could see tears in her eyes. "I don't care what happened," she muttered in a low voice. "If you people hadn't come here, he'd still be alive, and that's the bottom line! He was a great man, and he didn't deserve to die like that. He could've helped a lot of people!"
"He still can," said Sean, smiling weakly. "His research was very thorough, and it looks like Dr. Beck has turned it into something wonderful. That's why I'm here--I've come to get you both. They're about to give the machine its first real test, and you two get to watch!"
I really expected Sean to take us out of that damn cage (which I was really starting to hate, by the way), but he didn't. He just picked it up by the handle and hauled us off. That made me think about something, namely, the fact that for a while there Dr. Grier was pretty careful keeping me hidden. Maybe they didn't want anyone to know there were Stage Three people around? Why was that, anyway? Did they not want anybody drawing the obvious conclusion, especially if we were recognized?
Well, whatever the case, they didn't seem all that worried about it now. Sean was lugging us out in the open, where anybody passing by would easily spot us in the cage. However, we didn't pass anyone at all. I mentioned this oddity to Kay, in between holding on for dear life as our prison swayed recklessly back and forth, but she didn't have an answer. The only thing I could think of was that maybe it was late enough in the day that most everyone had gone home, except the people Dr. Grier was forcing to work on his "special project."
Sean eventually came to a door, carried us inside, and set us down on a table. Once we'd recovered from the bout of dizziness caused by the wild swinging motion of his arm during his hasty walk, we stood up and looked around. We were inside some kind of observation chamber, with a large plate glass (or more likely Plexiglas) window covering most of one wall. Other than a series of mechanical cranes and other arm-like assemblies up on the ceiling, we couldn't tell what was going on in there. As for the observation room itself, there were some monitors on desks and various computers, but nobody else was here except Sean.
"Got a good view?" he asked, peering down into the cage at us. "Into the lab, I mean."
"The lab?" I asked. Nearby, Kay nodded, but she was standing on her tiptoes and couldn't see inside any better than I could.
"Oh, sorry, you're not high enough, are you? Here, let me try something." He stepped over to a low bookshelf, pulled out a couple of thick manuals, and set them nearby. Then he raised the cage up on top of those. "Better?" he asked.
"Yeah," I agreed, but I was hardly paying any attention to him any more. The view through the window was the only thing I was thinking about at that moment. I could see Steven, and he was standing next to the "big chair thing" Aleta told me about, which, as it turns out, was a pretty apt description. The chair sort of resembled the kind of oversized seat you'd see in a barber shop, except with a lot of wires and such sticking out of it. Some of these rose up to the ceiling, while others trailed off into the midst of other machines that looked like they'd been cobbled together out of junkyard parts.
I had no idea what any of this stuff was, or what it was for, nor did this particular lab look familiar at all, which meant this was something they'd never shown my Committee during any of our fact-finding tours. "What is this place?" I asked in a low voice, addressing Kay, who I was pretty sure would know.
"We call it the Graveyard," she replied quietly. "All those things you see, all those devices and parts, they're all pieces of failed experiments. Some of them, like those two in the back, are leftovers from the days the HSC was used for other kinds of research. The one there on the left, the one that looks vaguely like a Tesla coil, was something they were using to try to figure out how to induce transitions on animals, and later human volunteers. Nothing ever came of it, though. I have no idea why it's hooked up to that chair."
"I suppose they'll tell us, eventually," I suggested. Steven wasn't alone in the room, after all. Dr. Grier was there, as well as a couple of other scientists I recognized from previous visits. Also present was Dr. Emmett Richardson, the gray-haired older man who was actually in charge of the Center, and who I might add looked awfully chummy with Dr. Grier. There were also a few other people standing around, dressed in a manner similar to Sean, so I figured they were basically hired muscle.
Nearby, Kay was shaking her head. "We were pretty sure Monica and David there were spies, back when Steven and I were starting to suspect something fishy was going on here," she explained, "but neither of us really believed Emmett would be involved. If he's been part of this whole conspiracy all along, then it means..."
"Yeah," I replied, nodding. "It means Dr. Grier's been running the show all along, doesn't it?"
"I never knew," sighed Kay. "I never imagined it was this bad! We just thought people were sabotaging our research, or passing it along to competitors. But it was deeper than that, wasn't it? They were directing everything, forcing us to look into only those things Dr. Grier wanted, for his own purposes. Those things that looked like sabotage...they were just him pruning the branches he didn't like."
"Why didn't he just replace everyone, then?" I asked. "Why bother keeping people like Steven around, and Dr. Kleinmann?"
"Because he needed them, I guess," Kay supposed. "He must've known they would never work for him voluntarily, so he gave them the illusion they were helping find the Solution for the good of mankind. God, we were so blind!" She buried her face in her hands.
"It's not your fault," I said, trying my best to help. "You couldn't have known. Who could've imagined something like this?"
"You're right, I guess," she decided after a minute or so, raising her head and wiping away a couple of stray tears. "I'm just sorry for Hans. He must've realized all of this, there at the end. He must've figured out how they'd manipulated him, and what they were planning to do with his research. He couldn't live with that. The poor man!"
I closed my eyes, trying to remember Dr. Kleinmann. I'd met him a few times, and while he was old and frail, he'd seemed full of life, always eager to discuss his latest project, and willing to do anything to help, even risk going Stage Two in the middle of his research. To have his dreams crushed like that must've been too much for him.
I could almost understand what he felt like. I was pretty helpless right now, myself. In fact, watching Steven out there, talking silently (for I couldn't hear anything through that Plexiglas wall) with the others, I had to wonder what he was feeling as well. He'd finished Hans's work, essentially, and did what the old scientist had died trying to prevent, and all of that just to protect Kay and I. How was he going to be able to live with himself after this? Assuming they let him live, of course.
While I'd been having this conversation with Kay, Sean had stepped into the lab through the nearby access door, presumably to tell the others we were in place. Now, they all seemed to be finishing their little talk, and the group started to break up. Steven glanced my way, saw me (or at least the cage), and gave a reassuring smile that did very little to make me feel any better. Then, he turned away and started doing a final once-over on the chair.
Sean shut the door behind him as he came back inside, followed closely by one of the other scientists, a woman who I remembered was named Monica Rafferty. She was tall and attractive, with a sharply angular face that looked very businesslike and professional, especially with her black hair tied back in a bun, and wire-rimmed glasses resting on almost the very tip of her nose. The wrinkles on the back of her hands, however, betrayed the fact that she was probably a lot older than she looked. I'd never noticed that before, on the few occasions that we'd met, but then, I'd never been so tiny, nor her hands so huge.
"Hello, Kay," she said with a smile that immediately made me nervous. "And you, too, Miss Patterson. Or can I call you Natalie?"
"If you want," I replied, just barely managing to bite back my hostility. Kay, meanwhile, gave her a hate-filled, icy stare. "What's going on? What are you all doing out there?"
Monica completely ignored me, focusing entirely on Kay. "Sorry if you don't like me," she said, in a manner that suggested she wasn't really sorry at all. "I'm doing what I feel like I have to do, just as we all are. This is for the best, as you'll eventually learn. If it makes you feel any better, I told Dr. Grier your skills would come in handy after Phase Three. I always liked you, Kay, and didn't want to see you wind up like Phil Masterson."
"Oh, thanks soooo much," said Kay bitterly. "Don't do me any favors, okay? If it weren't for people like you, I wouldn't be stuck in a cage, shrunk down against my will, along with Natalie here, and Hans wouldn't be dead!"
"I still feel bad about that," Monica admitted, but she really wasn't showing very much emotion at all. It was a lot easier to read faces at my size, as it turns out, seeing as I can pretty much take in every detail of their features. I could see now where some of the lines and wrinkles of age had been hidden with surgery or makeup. Monica seemed to me like someone who was motivated by vanity, which was probably how Dr. Grier got to her in the first place.
While I silently evaluated her, she kept on talking to Kay, as though oblivious to my presence. "Hans didn't understand what we were trying to accomplish here," she said with a shrug. "Neither do you, but you will."
"Spare me the speeches," hissed Kay. "Just do whatever you're trying to do, and get it over with."
"Fine, be that way!" Monica stood up abruptly and turned away, switching her attention to one of the nearby monitors. "I've been authorized to tell you both what's going on out there, since you can't hear through the bulletproof glass. Do you see the chair?"
She glanced back at the cage, and we both nodded, since it seemed likely she couldn't possibly hear a reply from all the way across the room. I turned my gaze back to the lab, and saw to my surprise that Steven was now sitting down in that chair and, in fact, was being strapped into it. Needless to say, this made me feel a little bit anxious.
"As you can see, Dr. Beck has graciously volunteered to undergo our first live test of the procedure." Monica smiled, her mouth forming a mocking line, and I think if Kay had been normal sized just then she would've gone for the lady scientist's scrawny throat. "Actually, volunteered isn't the right word, but I'm sure you can see why we'd choose him to test his own programming. Don't worry, ladies, hardly anything could go wrong."
She laughed, and the sound echoed harshly in our ears. Kay was pretty close to frothing at the mouth. "That bitch!" she growled. "It was probably her idea! She always hated Steven, ever since he got the promotion she was after!"
"Aren't you going to tell them what the chair is for?" asked Sean from nearby. I'd almost forgotten he was there. "Or are you keeping them in suspense?"
"Oh, of course, how silly of me," chuckled Monica, turning away from her computer and coming back over to peer in at us. I really didn't like her much, for obvious reasons, and I didn't like the evil glint in her eye any better. "Natalie, you're his girlfriend, right? That's what I've been told, at least."
"Yes, that's right." I nodded in agreement, trying to hide the worried look on my face and wishing she'd just go back to what she was doing on the computer.
"Well, your boyfriend out there, he's being very cooperative, thanks to you." Monica smiled again, and I swallowed heavily. Something about her scared me, plain and simple. "He came up with a way to use Dr. Kleinmann's research to produce a device that will eliminate the binary minicells from an afflicted person's body. In other words, nothing less than a complete and permanent Solution."
I nodded slowly. This was something I'd already figured out on my own, of course, but I was really hoping I'd been wrong.
"What it does," Monica went on, sounding rather pleased with herself, "is force the BMCs into initiating a transition, but then confuses them into thinking their task is already complete. At that point, they abandon the procedure and exit the body, just as they always do when someone reaches Stage Three. That's what Dr. Kleinmann discovered, you see, when he made the breakthrough that made all this possible. When he realized there were no BMCs in tissues samples of anyone who was Stage Three, that's when it all clicked."
"But I thought they were supposed to keep the body healthy," I asked in confusion. "Wasn't that what they were originally designed for? Why would they just leave like that?"
"They were never supposed to be permanent residents," explained Monica. "They were supposed to be administered for a single purpose, and once their job was complete, they exited as waste. The problem was, the original instructions given to the BMCs were too general. Over time, lacking a single directive to heal a specific person of a specific ailment, they adapted their simple reasoning to cover all ills, no matter how slight. Once they've completed that task, they terminate themselves, because that's what they were always designed to do."
"So, what you're doing now," I replied, starting to grasp the intricacies of all this, "is fooling them into thinking they're finished, so they'll leave, and thus, that person will never transition."
"Exactly. The BMCs won't even try to return, for the same reason that Dr. Grier and the others are immune--because the minicells can recognize a person who's already been affected by their changes. That's how Dr. Grier and the others kept from ever being infected, you see. To the BMCs, they look like they're already cured."
"I was wondering about that," I replied, nodding. That was something that Dr. Grier never fully explained, but I never got a chance to ask about it before now. In any event, I wasn't so concerned about that particular point, because something else was now occurring to me. "So," I went on slowly, "if the chair out there does it job, then Steven can never transition, is that what you're saying?"
"That's right." Monica grinned at me. "Does that bother you, that your boyfriend's going to be normal sized and you'll be stuck like that forever?"
"A little, yeah," I admitted, trying very hard to hide the fact that I was terrified of the whole idea. What if it worked, and Steven stayed big, and me tiny for the rest of my life? He said he'd love me as a person, but what if that wasn't true? I desperately wanted both of us to be the same size, more than anything in the world, but if their machine made him immune, that could never happen.
"Well, don't worry, I'm sure you'll make a great little toy for him to play with," laughed Monica. "You never know, though. It may not even work at all, and we're about to find out. If it doesn't, well, your boyfriend's going to get a nice full dose of the Inducer, so he'll be your size soon enough." She laughed again, and that evil look on her face returned with a vengeance. "Fortunately for me, Dr. Grier promised I could have him all to myself if that happens."
I gulped. This was getting worse by the minute! I wanted Steven my size, but not if he had to be stuck with someone like her!
"Now, now," Sean cautioned from nearby. "You wouldn't want to mistreat him, Dr. Rafferty. You know how Dr. Grier feels about that sort of thing."
She stood up and turned to look at Sean, and I noticed then that she was actually slightly taller than him, and he actually looked somewhat intimidated by this. "Don't worry, Mr. Copeland," she snapped back, eyes narrowed to slits. "I'll take good care of him, I can promise you that! Just as I'm sure you'll keep good care of your own little pet. Now keep your mouth shut while I finish getting everything set up. That goes for all of you!"
She turned away haughtily, and as she did Sean glanced down at us, and then very clearly made a twirling gesture with his index finger next to his head. Kay snorted, and I had to suppress a giggle, which effectively broke the mood. Clearly we weren't the only ones who didn't like Monica very much. Dr. Grier seemed to be very good at reading people--surely he wasn't intending to bring her along with him as part of his team, was he? I sure as hell hoped not.
After a moment she clicked a couple of keys and then stepped across the room to the window, where she gave a thumbs-up gesture to the others outside. At this, Dr. Grier said something to Steven, who nodded slowly and looked back at me. He flashed another supportive smile my way, as though to reassure me that everything was somehow going to work out, and then settled back and closed his eyes.
Dr. Grier and the others took that moment to put on safety goggles and step behind a low protective barrier. The other scientist, the one named David, reached up to a master power switch on the nearby wall. He then called out something, and though I'm not much of a lip reader, I could clearly see he was counting down to zero.
"This is it," said Monica gleefully. "Time to see if your boyfriend's the genius everyone says he is, or just a desperate man clutching at straws, and about to get cut down to size because of it. You know what, Natalie? I really don't know which one I'd like better!"
I was about to bite off a snappy reply, but just then David finished his countdown and yanked the power switch.
The sad thing is, at that moment I didn't really know which choice I preferred, either.
For a moment nothing seemed to happen, and then the lights in the room started to flicker. There was a noisy humming that I quickly realized was coming from the Plexiglas window, which was literally vibrating in its frame. In the lab, the big coil began to spark, and I could see what looked like little bolts of electricity flaring all about. Other lights began flashing as well, but whether or not this was normal, I had no idea. Nobody seemed to be panicking, at least.
While all of this was going on, Steven's teeth were gritted and he was clutching at the chair's armrests, so he must've been in quite a bit of pain from the energy flowing into him. To his credit, he didn't scream or faint, and while of course I was horrified that he was being hurt, I also felt a strong measure of pride as well. It was a testament to his will power that he could take that kind of punishment. I'm pretty sure I'd rather get a root canal than go through something like that.
The whole time he was enduring this little piece of hell, Monica was staring out the window and grinning, which made me dislike her all the more. Sure, he'd been picked over her for a promotion, but it hardly seemed like that was enough of a reason to be so glad to see someone being physically tortured. Something else must've been going on that I just didn't know about.
After about thirty seconds of this treatment (although to me it seemed much longer, and I'm sure even more for Steven), the energy flow stopped on its own and he sagged with relief in his seat. Monica immediately turned, still smiling brightly, and started checking readouts on the nearby monitor. I was trying to get a look at them too, and so was Kay, but we couldn't really see anything from there, so I went back to watching Steven.
After a moment or two of conversation, they unhooked him from the chair, helped him up, and dragged him into the room where I was, at which point he was allowed to collapse into another chair. He flopped into it limply, gasping for breath, and when I called out he didn't answer. That wasn't too surprising, though, seeing as I was on the other side of the room and another conversation had already started, which would've overwhelmed my puny little voice.
"Well, what do the readouts say?" Dr. Grier asked, paying no attention to my plaintive cries. "Is he going to survive?"
"Looks like it," said Monica with a dismissive shrug. "Can't tell whether the BMCs are active or not yet, though. Probably should take him down to medical and do some tests."
"That wouldn't be a bad idea," agreed Solomon, "except we have another problem. While we were getting that going, I got a page from the spotters on the roof. A bus just pulled up in the parking lot outside, a couple of minutes ago."
"So?" Monica demanded. "Buses go through there all the time."
"This one didn't leave. Take a look at what's going on out there right now. I'm patching in the external feed." Dr. Grier took out his PDA, tapped on the screen a couple of times, and held it up to her face. I couldn't see what was there, but her smile immediately disappeared. Meanwhile, Sean also took a look, and suddenly his expression became grim. He reflexively reached into his coat, and I heard a faint snap, which was probably a holster being unbuckled.
"Do we know who they are?" Sean asked firmly. That friendly, helpful guy who wanted to keep Kay safe was suddenly gone, and now I saw the stern face of a military man preparing to go into combat.
"No, but they aren't police or ordinary soldiers," Solomon explained. "They aren't moving in a disciplined manner, and look here, they have a Stage One with them. I'm not sure which of my enemies this might be, but I know who it isn't--Nicholas Marconi would never accept anyone into his circle who wasn't perfect. Besides, I'd expect his forces to be much better trained."
"It doesn't matter who it is," countered Monica. Kay and I knew, of course, and we exchanged a quick glance, but we had no intention of telling her that. "They're here," she went on worriedly, "and that changes everything. We're out of time."
"Exactly, my dear," replied Solomon, flashing her a smile of agreement, and for the first time I realized that perhaps there just might be something going on between the two of them. Had he seduced her, or at the very least pretended to, when he recruited her to his team? Or was it the other way around? Two people like that could hardly share real love, as far as I was concerned.
"For the moment," Dr. Grier went on, "let's assume Dr. Beck's field test was successful, seeing as he didn't fry himself in the process. Go to his office and collect a complete copy of all his files, and then make sure the explosives are synched up."
"Right, I'm on it," she agreed at once, then pointed at the monitor and other nearby equipment. "What about this stuff here?"
"It's not important. We have what we need already. All this will be destroyed in the blast, anyway. Just go."
She nodded and left. Meanwhile, Solomon turned to Sean. "Mr. Copeland," he said directly, "I'm afraid I need your combat skills more than your protective instincts at the moment. Take these two," and he pointed at the cage, "and secure them someplace safe, where you can quickly retrieve them before we abandon the building."
"Yes, sir," Sean replied, now sounding exactly like a trained soldier, not the supposedly gentle caretaker he made himself out to be earlier. "How about that room they were in before?"
"That's fine. It should be outside the blast radius, but make sure you get them out, or they'll be caught in the fire when the building burns."
"Of course, sir." He picked up the cage and started to hurry away.
"As soon as you've done that," Solomon called after him, "cover the main entrance. They'll probably try to come in through the sides, but I've got enough guards there. I need you on the front lines."
"Yes, sir!" Sean replied crisply. He was about to exit the room when I heard Steven finally speak.
"No, wait!" he called out weakly, almost gasping the words. "Please! I did what you asked. You promised they'd be safe with me!"
"And they will be," Dr. Grier agreed, "as soon as we're sure you lived up to your part of the bargain. Now, I want you to go with David here down to the medical department where--"
Sean had been hesitating, to make sure he didn't have any further change of orders, but as soon as he heard that last part, he let the door slam shut. I didn't hear any more of what Solomon had to say. I did, however, feel very much like I was never going to see Steven again. I collapsed to my knees and choked back tears, even as Kay bent over to comfort me.
"It'll be okay," she told me, hanging onto the swaying bars with her free hand. "They'll take him with them, and us too, you'll see."
"I wish I could be so sure," I replied sadly. "What if the process didn't work? They have no reason to keep him then. And even if it did work, he's a liability to them now, don't you get it? If he gets captured, or runs away, he could give Dr. Grier's enemies the Solution too. They won't take that chance!"
"If that's true," argued Kay, "they would've just killed him already, wouldn't they? Why bother waiting? They know the minicells will keep on working even after you die, doing their jobs the whole time. People have died before in mid-transition, and the process always finishes."
I nodded at that, and she had a point. Before the transitions were fully understood, there were a lot of unnecessary deaths, and the body always completed the change to the next Stage. The minicells could alter you completely, and fix all manner of diseases, but they couldn't bring you back from the dead. So if Dr. Grier just wanted to know if Steven was going to be cured of the BMCs, they could've just shot him on the spot and hauled his body along with them, or even part of it, and found out that way. That meant they still wanted him alive, which gave me at least a little bit of hope.
Sean reached the abandoned office where we'd been stuck before, and set the cage down on the same desk, next to the TV and remote control. "Sorry to leave you here," he explained, the soldier's bearing now notably absent, "but you heard the boss. Now it's time for me to do my job, and combat's no place for a couple of little ladies."
"Please, don't leave us in this cage!" Kay begged him. "What if you don't come back? They're going to burn this place down! We'll be killed!"
He started to turn away, and then sighed and slumped his shoulders. "Damn, I was afraid you were going to ask that," he muttered. "Fine, I'll let you out, although I'm pretty sure Dr. Grier would kill me if he knew I was doing this."
"We won't tell!" I agreed readily.
Sean nodded and opened up the padlock, setting it aside and freeing us. We both stepped out onto the desk, glad to be away from those bars at last. "It's not like we can really go anywhere," Kay pointed out. "I don't think we can fit under the door."
"No, you couldn't," said Sean with a note of sarcasm in his voice, "but I'm sure you can find a way out of here if you had to. Now let me tell you something, all right? Something from the heart." He set his hand down on the desk, palm up. "Climb in, please, Dr. Gutierrez."
Kay looked nervous, but complied. She tried walking across the palm, but had to settle for getting on her hands and knees as he raised her slowly into the air. I could tell she was next to terrified, because this was the first time (as far as she knew) that she'd ever been picked up like that, but there wasn't much I could do from where I was.
"Kay," he began. "You don't mind if I call you that, do you?"
She nodded nervously. "As long as I can call you Sean."
"Sure," he agreed readily, peering closely down at her. "Kay, I like you. I liked you the first time I saw you, when you were Stage One, and trying so very hard to get past us in the hall. You don't know me from Adam, of course, and I can appreciate that, but I want you to understand something. I really do care what happens to you, and I don't want to see you hurt. I promise, I'll take very good care of you once this is all over. I would never harm you or mistreat you in any way."
"Okay," she replied, nodding, but I could hear a doubtful tone in her voice. "That's good to know."
"I think you'd be happy being my pet," he went on sincerely. "However, I won't force you to be, if you don't want that. Once this is all over, and we've carried through with Dr. Grier's plan, I'll leave it up to you where you go next."
"I appreciate that," Kay answered, looking (as best I could tell from below and behind her) somewhat confused, "but why are you telling me all this?"
"Because I think you're going to run away as soon as I leave this room, and I don't want you to." Sean then reached up very slowly and carefully with his left index finger, and drew it down to touch her hair. He continued the motion downward very slowly, caressing her back, and I very clearly saw her shudder.
"Please don't go, Kay," he all but begged. "Please stay here. I'll come back for you, if I can, and get you out. I'm only releasing you from the cage because I can't bear the thought of you being trapped in there if the building catches fire. So please, please don't run off, unless you run completely out of time. Dr. Grier has all the explosives set to go off on a ten minute timer, but he has to order them activated first. As soon as he does that, the clock will be ticking."
Kay nodded worriedly, but didn't say anything, nor did she shy away from that giant finger, which was now moving in a slow circle over her shoulders.
"He won't do that until he's ready, though, so you have time," Sean went on, "but if I'm not back here in twenty minutes, then something must've happened to me. Get out of the room--I'll leave the door cracked open, so you can slip outside if you have to, but I can't guarantee what'll happen if you go out there. Anyone could see you, and there's nowhere to hide, so if you do leave, there won't be anything I can do to protect you anymore."
"I understand," said Kay, leaning her head to the side to rest it against his fingertip. "I appreciate all of this, Sean. I'll stay if I can, all right?"
"Thank you," he replied, smiling. A satisfied look on his face, he lowered Kay back to the table, where she stepped off his palm, glanced upward, and returned his smile.
"Wait!" I called out before he could leave. "What's going to happen to Steven?"
"I don't know," Sean admitted. "I really don't. Dr. Grier said he'd bring him with us when we leave, so I have to believe he will. If you stay here, I'll do everything I can to bring you as well, and you can join him then. So don't leave unless you absolutely have no other choice. Now, I have to go! And remember, if anyone else comes in here, I suggest you hide. I'll be back in twenty minutes, I promise!"
With that, he quickly exited, making sure to leave the door slightly askew, so we could leave if we wanted to. He was true to his word on that point, at least, and I never for a moment doubted he'd return for us. Whether that was something we wanted, I really wasn't sure.
I looked over at Kay, raising my eyebrow curiously. "Well, what do you think?" I inquired.
"About what?" she demanded, absently rubbing her shoulders, with her eyes shut. "Are you kidding me? You think I'd really want that? To be his pet, for the rest of my life?"
I grinned. "Oh, come on, it must've at least crossed your mind."
"You're crazy!" she accused me, but I could tell from her reddening face that she'd at least been tempted. I could remember a gentle touch and loving back rub from my own personal giant, and I knew just how attractive that offer might be.
"Okay, then, forget I said anything!" I replied, putting up my hands as if to ward off a blow. "What do we do now, then? Do we get out of here, or wait?"
"We should go," she insisted, shaking her head, but even as she did, she hesitated. For a moment she stared longingly at the door, sighing quietly to herself. She must really have been tempted, and who wouldn't be? To be held and loved and taken care of, by someone kind and gentle, like my Steven...that would've tempted anyone. But she didn't really know Sean Copeland at all, when it came right down to it, and while he seemed honorable enough, there was no telling what kind of man he really was. In the end, I knew Kay would never take that risk, and I was right.
She shook her head sadly and turned back to me, mouth drawn up in a firm line. "The door's open down there," she told me, quickly putting any idea of accepting Sean's offer to rest. "Let's get the hell out of here while we can. We've got twenty minutes before he shows back up. I don't care how nice he seems, I'm nobody's pet, and I don't want to be part of this so-called perfect society they think they're creating. It's going to be perfect, yeah, but only for the big people. The rest of us, well, you saw that look on Monica's face, when she talked about having Steven for her very own."
"What Phil did to me," I pointed out firmly, "is all the answer I need."
"So let's go, then," said Kay with determination, moving over towards the power cord coming out of the back of the television. "This looks like the only way off this desk. You think we can get down all right?"
The height looked pretty daunting, but I was sure we could make it, especially since I'd seen someone else make the trip look quite easy. "Sure," I agreed with more confidence than I really felt. I grabbed hold, slid myself over the side, and started to climb down, and found out it really was quite simple. After a moment I just relaxed my grip, sliding freely, and reaching the floor took no time at all. There wasn't even a drop at the end, since the cord went all the way to the floor, where it ended at a power strip.
Kay, on the other hand, hesitated for quite a while, and she looked pretty scared up there, but to her credit she took hold and followed my lead. I did notice, as she slid quickly down, that her eyes were firmly shut, and her hands were wrapped around the cord in a white-knuckled grip. I was pretty sure I heard her hyperventilating on the way down, too, but it might've just been my imagination.
I was helping Kay finish her descent when suddenly I became aware that someone else was there, watching. I suppose I should've expected to find her there, but still, I jumped in surprise as she seemed to step right out of the shadows.
"'Bout time you two muñecas get yer asses in gear!" chuckled Aleta Rainero, impatiently tapping a booted foot like she'd been waiting there for hours.
Though Kay had made it safely to the ground, she clearly didn't look very happy about it. Her face was pale and she was visibly shaking, and her attempt to hide her obvious fear of heights wasn't really working very well. She did, however, gamely make an effort at greeting the new arrival. I'm pretty sure she was grateful for the distraction.
"You must be Aleta," Kay said amiably, taking a couple of deep breaths to recover her composure. "I've heard about you. Nice to finally meet you."
"Yeah, yeah, charmed and all that," replied Aleta urgently. "Look, chica, we got no time for this nice-ta-meetcha, how-do-ya-do shit. They're gonna blow up this place so we gotta move, and move now. Stick close ta me and we can chat on the way."
She moved off rapidly, slipping into the darkness behind a file cabinet and from there into a hole about an inch wide, set low in the wall near the baseboard. At first I thought perhaps this was something natural, but the edges of the drywall were cut cleanly. She must've had some kind of cutting tool, but where it was now, I had no idea.
There was nothing to do but follow. Oh, I suppose we might've argued, or tried to stay behind, but it didn't matter. Kay and I exchanged glances, and she gave a little shrug, as if she knew as well as I that we really had nowhere else to go. We didn't need to talk about it--the decision was as mutual as it was instantaneous. So we went.
I now experienced one of the strangest journeys of my life. We were, literally, walking through walls. Well, between them, but you get the idea. The panels themselves were standard drywall arranged over a metal framework, which gave us plenty of room to move around. Normally, it would be pitch black here, but Aleta had cut thin holes here and there into lighted rooms and the faint glow was enough to let us see at least enough to get around. Plus, as I found out quickly, it seemed that my miniature eyes were much better at seeing in the dark. Not in total darkness, of course, as I'd learned during my dizzying rides in that briefcase earlier, but far better than I would've at normal size.
The route we took was winding and left me very quickly lost. We turned corners, climbed over bundles of wires, worked our way around various obstacles, and got very, very dusty in the process. Aleta didn't say anything and moved very quickly, forcing Kay and I to hurry to keep up. It didn't take long for me to get somewhat winded, and Kay was even worse off, because she'd transitioned a lot more recently than I had, and her body wasn't ready for this kind of exertion. Finally, after a particularly strenuous climb over a thick cluster of cables, Kay just collapsed, gasping for breath and coughing in the dusty, stale air.
"Come on, it ain't too far now," insisted Aleta, who didn't seem to be in the least bit tired. I could barely see her dark face in the blackness, but she showed no signs of exertion at all. I tried to imagine how much something like this obstacle course might've winded me back when I was big, and I'm sure I would've been gasping like Kay, for I wasn't in very good shape. Yet here was Aleta, looking like she'd gone for a leisurely stroll around the block. "We gotta keep movin,'" she insisted. "I ain't got the tools ta disarm their bombs, so we gotta be fast. That office of yers is next room, one floor down, and I already got a way in ready."
"Just a moment," I insisted. "We need to rest! She just transitioned an hour ago, you know. I'm amazed she got this far."
"Fine, whatever," said Aleta impatiently, gesturing in my direction. "You, then. Come on, stay with me. She can catch up."
"I'm not leaving her!" I insisted, completely taken aback by the suggestion that I do otherwise. After everything Kay and I had been through, I wasn't leaving her behind now!
"Look, I get that yer friends and all that," hissed Aleta stubbornly, "but we ain't got time fer that shit! This place is gonna go boom! You wanna be here when that happens?"
"Maybe...maybe we should just get out," coughed Kay, struggling to get to her feet. "The data...just save Steven, he can...he can reproduce it, I'm sure."
"Can't take that chance," complained Aleta, pacing back and forth nervously. "They hauled him off to do some kinda tests. Whatever he did, he better hope he did it right, or he ain't gettin' outta that room."
"Do you know where he is?" I demanded.
"Yeah, her old office." Aleta pointed at Kay. "Not too far. After we get the disc, I'll take ya there, got it?"
"Not far?" Kay shook her head doubtfully. "It's a long way! You have to get on the elevator, and then--"
"Maybe before," said Aleta with a grin, "but not anymore. Don't forget, yer muñecas now. Down one floor, then a couple rooms away, won't take more'n a coupla minutes thru the walls. And people say bein' this size is bad!"
Kay and I exchanged surprised glances, but we could immediately see the logic in that. Why go down a hall, taken an elevator, then come back down another hall, when you could take a direct path right through the floor? "Okay, then, I think I'm ready now," Kay replied, taking a couple of deep breaths. "Which way?"
Aleta grinned. "Good, now keep up, slowpokes!"
She wasted no further time, scurrying off through a gap between two panels that looked to me like it led nowhere. Instead, we popped out in a narrow run over chunks of broken, dusty fragments of what looked like it must've once been part of a drop ceiling. Maybe something like that was once installed way above us, and when it was cut to fit, the excess pieces fell down here. Whatever it was, it made the going difficult for a couple more minutes until we emerged in front of a pit filled with wires, some of which were fastened into groups with zip ties.
Aleta of course instantly hopped onto one of these cord-clusters and slid down, like that was no big deal at all, but I had to work to coax Kay into proceeding. We were descending a whole floor, which was quite a distance, so much that we couldn't really see the bottom in the shadowy darkness. "Come on," I insisted. "You have to go. It's the only way."
"I can't stand heights," she whimpered. "I never could. This is...this is my worst nightmare!"
"Come on, Steven needs us," I prodded. "Go on, I'll be right behind you."
She shuddered, but to her credit, she grabbed hold and started working her way down. The occasional presence of zip ties on the wire bundle made the going a piece of cake, as far as I was concerned, but Kay kept emitting pathetic little moans of fear the whole way down. When we finally jumped off at the next floor, she was literally trembling all over, and I had to catch her lest she collapse.
"All right, it's thru here," said Aleta quietly. "The lights are on, and I think somebody's in there, so keep yer mouths shut and don't make no unnecessary noise!"
We followed her, stepping out through another hole, this one alongside a power outlet situated behind a trash can. Kay followed close behind me, catching her breath quickly and clearly relieved to finish that journey in one piece. We were about a foot off the ground, but since there was something plugged into one of the outlets, we just slid down the cord the rest of the way and peered out into the room.
To my dismay, someone was indeed here--we could see a pair of black ladies' boots nestled underneath a desk chair, and a flared length of skirt dangling down from above. A woman was working at the computer, clicking away on the keyboard, and occasionally moving the mouse around.
"It's that bitch Monica Rafferty," whispered Kay from nearby. "Remember, she was supposed to come download Steven's work!"
"Shit!" replied Aleta softly. "Well, just keep quiet, and she'll never know we're here. Trust me, us muñecas can sneak around with the best of 'em. Hell, sometimes it's hard to hear us even if we want someone to notice." She snickered for a moment and then went on. "Now go on, find that disc or whatever so we can get the hell outta here."
"I don't know for sure where it is," I replied worriedly. "Steven said it would be hidden in plain sight. I don't think that means it's under the desk. I was still Stage One at the time, so he must've meant it was somewhere I could reach."
"Dammit!" Aleta swore. "That 'splains why I ain't found it myself, then. I was thinkin' maybe he taped it under the desk or somethin'."
"Steve always liked hide and seek," sighed Kay. "That was our favorite game growing up. He just loved putting things right out in the open, knowing I'd dig through all the drawers, and under furniture, before I'd look anywhere obvious."
"If I could reach it when I was Stage One," I mused, "that pretty much means only a few places in the room. I figure you must've looked in the wastebasket already, and the bookshelf?"
"Yeah," admitted Aleta sheepishly. "Sorry, y'know, I figgered, if I found it myself, well, I wouldn't need ya. Can't blame a gal fer tryin'."
"That pretty much leaves only the desk, then," I responded. "We have to get up there, and we can't exactly do that with Monica here. Unless you have some way to knock her out?"
"Sorry, nope," Aleta replied, shaking her head. "They was talkin' about makin' weapons and shit fer us, and yeah I got a knife, but nothin' that's gonna really hurt somethin' that big. And not thru them boots anyways."
"How about a distraction?" suggested Kay. "Bang on the trash can or something? Get her attention so we can climb up?"
"It's not just that," I pointed out. "We need her out of the room, so we can search, and if we do find the disc, get it out of here without her knowing."
While we were discussing that, of course, Monica was busy at the computer above us on the desk. We could hear her shuffling about and occasionally a beep or something would sound as well. All of a sudden, though, she interrupted us, and for an instant we all froze, thinking she was addressing us somehow. "Goddammit!" she swore loudly, slamming her hand on the desk with a loud bang. "Steven Beck, you fucking asshole, why'd you have to do that? Such a pain in the ass!"
We all gasped at the unexpected, and surprisingly harsh, sound of Monica's voice. I felt my heart skip a beat, but she was just really just cursing to herself. She continued to mutter, clacking away for another few seconds, and then swore again and reached down to the floor. I saw her hand come into view and jumped back reflexively, but she was just reaching into her purse, which I saw now was sitting there by her feet. She fiddled around inside for a moment and then sat back up, and more beeps sounded from above. There was a momentary delay and then she started talking again.
"Sorry to interrupt whatever important thing you're doing," Monica said in a frustrated tone, "but Dr. Beck put a destruct passlock on his files."
"Wasn't that paranoid of him," said another voice, this time clearly Dr. Grier speaking, probably through Monica's PDA. She must've put it on speaker so she could type while using it, because I could hear her fingers working away at the keyboard during their conversation. A moment later, he asked, "Can you break it?"
"Not without risking wiping his database," she sighed in dismay. "This sort of crap was company policy, don't forget. You have to get the password off him. Is he still alive?"
"Yes, he seems to be recovering as well as can be expected. I needed everyone on the doors, so he's locked in Medical right now."
"Well, get his tight little ass down here so we can pry that password out of him. Might as well grab the hostages while you're at it, in case he needs some persuading." She gave a clipped laugh in between more clicking on keys. "Once we have the info, we can lock them all in here together."
"True," said Dr. Grier coldly. "I did, after all, promise Dr. Beck that he could have them when he finished his work for us, and you know how I always like to keep my promises."
"Yeah, yeah, just don't forget what you promised me later, mister."
He chuckled. "Don't worry, I haven't. That's a promise I fully intend to keep."
"Good. You damn well better. See you in a couple minutes, then."
She clicked off the PDA and reached down to put it back in its place, but it slipped out of her hand, hit the side of her purse, and bounced off, clattering to a halt under the desk just a few inches from me. I stared at it in horror, momentarily paralyzed with shock, and Kay, still a bit behind me, let out a little yelp of surprise. I didn't hear anything from Aleta at all, but she couldn't have been any more prepared for that than we were.
We should've moved, of course, and probably would have, if we hadn't been distracted by what was revealed by that conversation high above. Instead we froze in panic as Monica cursed again, got down on her hands and knees, and reached under the desk for her lost piece of hardware. There was no chance of hiding, even if we'd had any cover at all, and of course she spotted me immediately.
"Well, well, well," she said with a wicked grin on her face. "What have we here?"
I managed to take one step back as her hand snapped forward, but it wasn't enough; she caught me in an instant. I shrieked loudly, the sound echoing off the bottom of the desk all around, and of course I struggled, but there was no getting loose from that terrible grip. In what seemed like the barest of instants I was yanked out into the light, wincing in pain, as she held me up to her massive face and laughed.
"Why, if it isn't itsy bitsy little Natalie Patterson!" she cackled cruelly. "Fancy meeting you under there! And what kind of mischief were you up to, hmm?"
"I--ouch! Nothing!" I wailed. "Owww! That hurts! Let me go!"
"Not until you tell me what you were doing." She squeezed harder and her grin grew wider. I kicked in futility and gasped for breath, but it was no use. "How'd you even get down there, I wonder?"
I opened my mouth to reply, but all that came out was a kind of choking squeal. I got the distinct impression that the question was rhetorical anyway; she was too busy enjoying squeezing me between her thumb and forefinger to actually care about what I had to say. The only thing I could be grateful for, at least for the moment, was she hadn't actually spotted Kay or Aleta--possibly because they were behind me, in the darkness, and out of view, or maybe they'd dropped prone or something. Either way, the longer Monica questioned me, the more time the others had to escape back into the walls.
"I thought," commented Monica, as if talking to herself now, "you were safely tucked away with that tiny doctor friend of yours. Oh, that's right, Solomon trusted you two with Sean, didn't he? I should've known."
That put an idea instantly into my head, and as her grip lessened I leapt at the opportunity. "He...he took her," I gasped between desperate breaths. "Didn't...didn't lock...cage."
"Yeah, figures it'd be something like that," sighed Monica, shaking her head sadly. "That Sean, he's such a pathetic sap! I told Solomon his conscience would get the better of him one of these days. Too bad. I guess you thought maybe you could stop me from stealing your boyfriend's work, huh?"
I hung my head and nodded weakly, hoping I was putting on a good enough act to fool her. I pretended to act defeated, which actually wasn't that far from how I was really feeling, actually.
"Well, you should've just stayed hidden," scoffed Monica. "What could a teeny little thing like you do, anyway? Now stay put for a moment while I make a quick call."
She yanked open a desk drawer and shoved me inside, and I was thrown off my feet when she shut it again. I found myself in the dark, sprawled amidst a bunch of pens, pencils, staples, and other typical office supplies that once I would've picked up and used without a second thought. I struggled to stand up, studying the faint line of light streaming in from above, and wondering if it might be possible to pry my way out with one of those pens, or if I should even bother trying.
Meanwhile, outside I could hear Monica scuffling around with the PDA. She took a bit longer to activate it than she should have, and moved around a lot as well, which suggested maybe she was checking to ensure nobody else was down around the floor. Of course, by this point she'd spent so much time playing with me that the others should've been long gone, if they had any sense about them.
A few moments later I heard her voice again. "Sol," she said quickly, "don't bother going after our little prisoners. Seems Mr. Copeland decided to take his prize a bit early and didn't lock up the other one well enough. I found her here in Steven's office, trying to sabotage the computer--probably looking to yank out the power cord or something."
"Really? She got all the way down there that quickly?" Dr. Grier sounded very doubtful, as well he should have. I was surprised, actually, that Monica hadn't questioned my appearance more thoroughly, but then, she was a bit distracted. "Well, hold onto her then," Solomon's voice went on. "I'll call Sean and have him meet us at the office, and we can have a little chat. Assuming, of course, he hasn't already abandoned us. He may beat me there--if so, just stall him as long as you can."
"Sure thing." There was a short click as she shut off the PDA and then the sound of her putting it away, after which she pulled open the drawer again and glared down at me.
"You didn't get all the way here by yourself, did you?" she demanded angrily. "There's no way you could get in here before me, and that door's been shut the whole time. How did you get in?"
I looked up at her timidly, praying she wouldn't get violent, because she could easily crush me to death with a swipe of her hand. Of course I had no intention of telling her the truth, either, but I had to sound convincing.
"Sean was going to put us in that cage again," I lied weakly, "but Kay said--she said she'd go with him willingly, do anything he asked, if he'd let me go."
"How'd you get in here, then?" she insisted.
"He put me outside the door," I answered, shuddering and cowering amidst the pencils. "H-he said to go in and wait and Steven would come. I crawled in underneath."
"That's bullshit! How would he know we were going to bring Steven here?" Monica shook her head, frowning, and reached for me. "You're going to have to do better than that, or we'll see what kind of toy you really are!"
"No! Don't!" I screamed, but she plucked me out of the drawer with her fingers and held me up, dangling by one leg. "Please! Put me down! Owwww! Don't hurt me!" I yelled pitifully. Of course I was scared to death, but I wasn't really in any pain, although I certainly wasn't going to tell her that. This may sound sexist of me, but most women don't like to see small creatures getting hurt, and certainly would never torture one, and I was hoping Monica, no matter how evil she might be, would at least feel a twinge of distaste at doing me harm. Fortunately, it seemed I was right, at least a little bit, as far as that goes.
"Oh, knock it off, you pathetic little whiner!" she finally said, rolling her eyes and dropping me into her palm. "God, you're such an idiot! Of course he'd tell you that--he'd tell you anything to get what he wants. That's how men are, haven't you figured that out?"
"That's not true!" I argued plaintively, thinking instantly of the man I loved. "Please, Monica, let me go! I just want to be with Steven! I wasn't going to do anything to the computer! If I had, I would've switched off the surge protector as soon as I came in!"
She raised an eyebrow at that, and then leaned around to look behind the desk, where sure enough, a power strip was sitting there in the open, with a big orange master switch glowing right on top. I could very easily have just jumped on that and shut everything down, leaving her stuck, at least for as long as it took the computer to reboot. So at least that part sounded plausible--I just hoped she didn't test my story about crawling under the door. There was indeed a space there, as I could see from my new perch, but whether I could slip underneath, that was another story. At least my white outfit was covered in dust and cobwebs, as well as more than a few streaks of grime, suggesting that I had, indeed, been squeezing myself through a tight space down on the floor.
She sighed after a moment and nodded. "Okay, then, at least you didn't do that," she agreed reluctantly, holding me up closer to her face. For the moment, it seemed, my flimsy story was holding up. "It's really unfortunate that I don't get to keep you, you know. I do like the idea of having a few pets of my own once this whole business is finished."
"W-what do you mean?" I asked worriedly. "I thought it wasn't about making people into pets!"
"Silly girl!" laughed Monica. "Of course it is! It's always been about that! What else is there? Sure, we're going to help humanity recover, such as it is, and have their cute little toy cities to live in, but that's just so the rest of us can enjoy the show. Didn't Solomon explain that part? No?" She chuckled at that, and then continued on. "No, of course he wouldn't. Sometimes I'm not even sure he really sees it that way, you know. He's so caught up in doing what he thinks is best, he forgets what it's all really about."
"So everything he said was--" I began.
"--absolutely true, as far as it goes," Monica interrupted. "Exactly as it was described, I'm sure. Solomon rarely lies, except when absolutely necessary, but he does stretch the truth occasionally."
"Yeah, I'd noticed," I admitted bitterly.
"You needn't worry," she went on with a shrug. "We really are going to make a better world for everyone. The people who become our pets won't be mistreated at all. Let me show you. Lie down on your stomach."
"W-what?" I blurted out, instantly horrified.
"You heard me. Just do it. Go on now, there's no reason to be afraid." She prodded at me with her fingertip, and the edge of her nail poked into my shoulder, not really hurting but reminding me that pain was just a poke away. I decided to comply, seeing as I had little choice. Something about this filled me with a certain amount of dread, though. I wasn't sure what she was going to do next, but it scared me.
Her fingertip reached down and touched my back, and slowly began to move from side to side, across my shoulder blades. She was gentle about it, not pressing hard at all, and I found my muscles automatically relaxing. Of course the back rub felt great, but I didn't like where she was going with this at all. It reminded me a lot of what Steven had done, back when we were alone for the first time since my transition, and seeing as I'm one hundred percent hetero, the idea of having a woman do the same thing to me wasn't particularly appealing.
She continued on with the massage, working down the small of my back, over my butt, and down my legs, using first just the fingertip and then gently kneading me between thumb and forefinger. I must admit, the sensation was amazing--I was covered in goose bumps and had pleasant tingling pretty much everywhere, but all the while I remained somewhat tense, afraid she might reach a bit farther than I would've liked.
"You see," Monica went on, "being small can be a wonderful thing for you. There's nothing to fear from the future, Natalie. Nothing at all."
As she said that, her finger began to slide up the inside of my left thigh, heading towards a part of me I really didn't want her touching. I won't lie--all that fondling was getting me aroused, and it was clear she knew exactly where to squeeze me, which said something about her character. My brain was screaming at me to make her stop, while my body definitely wanted more, and I was hovering in that frozen instant between deciding which path to choose, when suddenly the door flew open and Sean Copeland stepped in. He saw me, and what Monica was doing, and his face went ashen white.
"Holy shit!" he gasped in disbelief, staring at Monica in stark, undisguised horror. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"Oh, hello, Mr. Copeland," said a smiling Monica, completely unperturbed by his presence. She even continued to fondle me, though not with quite as much attention directed my way now that he was here. "You're just in time. I was showing our little guest what she can look forward to in the new world we're creating."
"You--you were--how can you...!" he stammered in confusion. His face kept changing from one emotion to the next, horror and anger and disgust, until he just wound up with a kind of baffled, droopy-mouth expression that made him look brain dead.
Around about this point I finally came to my senses and backed up in Monica's hand, pushing away from her grasping fingers and trying to curl myself up as best I could. She sighed and drew her hand away reluctantly. "Aw, see what you've done, you've ruined the moment! What a shame. I really think I was about to get through to her, too. Tsk-tsk."
"How--how dare you do that to a helpless woman!" demanded Sean, who I guess had decided the correct emotion to show was anger. "Put her down right now, or I'll--!"
"You'll what?" Monica's expression changed instantly, and suddenly she was back to her former self. She stood up in a flash, wrapping her fingers tightly around me so I couldn't fall out of her hand, and faced Sean sternly. "What are you going to do, Sean? Shoot me? You don't have the guts!"
His eyes narrowed. Through the gap in Monica's fingers I could see him shift ever so slightly, as if the thought of going for his weapon might be a real possibility. Monica never wavered, though. She stared him down, and finally he broke off and turned away, hanging his head in defeat. She smiled in satisfaction, content with her victory.
"You don't have to hurt her," Sean said after a moment, putting his hand on his forehead and turning back to look at me. "The poor little thing! She's absolutely terrified, can't you see that?"
"I didn't hurt her at all. Actually, I was quite gentle, wasn't I, Natalie?"
I gave a short nod, but made sure my face continued to radiate fear, which wasn't really that much of a stretch, actually. She kept changing personalities so quickly, I had no idea which Monica she was going to be next. If she got angry with me, those fingers could snap closed and crush me in an instant.
"It's not just hurting her physically," complained Sean, "but mentally, too. Don't you get it? We're so big, compared to her...she's scared out of her wits. Here, give her to me! She knows I won't hurt her."
"Whatever," replied Monica with a shrug. "She's just keeping me from getting what I need off this computer, anyway. You can hold her if you want."
I was surprised she was willing to hand me over that readily, but just then I heard footsteps coming down the hall, and I guess she must've heard them too. Sean hadn't shut the door behind him, and the men coming our way weren't trying to be stealthy. If that was Dr. Grier, she had no reason to worry about Sean trying to make any sort of escape.
She wasn't terribly careful about dumping me into his hand, just letting me tumble head over heels, but he deftly caught me without any trouble. "There, there," he said worriedly, petting me on the head (I was really starting to get tired of that, by the way) and making sure I wasn't injured. "It'll be okay. I won't let anyone hurt you. How'd you get here, anyhow?"
I started to reply, but hesitated. There was no right answer to that, because no matter what I said, one of the people in the room would know I was lying. So who did I want to upset the most?
Before I could answer, though, he looked at Monica accusingly. "Was it you?" he asked angrily. "Did you take her, after I put her in the safe room? Just so you could play your sick little game?"
Monica's left eyebrow went up, and she lifted her chin in defiance. "Of course not," she replied haughtily. "I came straight here. When would I have time to go do that? Besides, she told me you set her down outside this room, so she could crawl in under the door."
"What? I did no such thing!" Sean looked at me in horror. "Why would you say something like that...?"
I think maybe he realized, even as he was speaking, what the answer had to be. However, before I could respond, or he could reveal anything else about what he might be thinking, we were interrupted.
"Yes, why would you?" asked Dr. Grier, entering the room at just that moment. He'd obviously picked up some of the conversation as he arrived. I was terrified of what might happen to me now, but now a new emotion surged through me. Solomon was half-pushing, half-dragging a very dazed-looking Steven alongside him, and the sight of my boyfriend was enough to raise my spirits just a little. I stood up, grateful to see him again, but he didn't notice me at all. Sadly, he still clearly hadn't fully recovered from his earlier ordeal, and looked ready to faint at any moment.
Dr. Grier pushed Steven over to the desk and into the vacant chair, where he all but collapsed with exhaustion. His breath was raspy and his face flushed, plus he had a thin layer of sweat glistening on his forehead. He saw me then, because by now I was waving and yelling to get his attention. His half-open mouth briefly became a smile and he wheezed, "Hi, Natty," but that was all he managed to say.
If only I could be with him just then! But Dr. Grier was standing over me, his normally beatific face marred with an angry scowl. "Go ahead, you can answer the question now," he insisted. "How exactly did you get here, Miss Patterson?"
"And don't lie this time," put in Monica, looking just a tad bit embarrassed at having been fooled by my earlier falsehood. She tried to cover it up, but the effort was weak and transparent. "Not that anybody believed your ridiculous story anyway."
"I'm sorry, Sean," I answered, lowering my head as though defeated. "I didn't mean to bring you into this. As soon as you left, we ran off. After what Dr. Grier said--I didn't think anyone would come back for us. I just wanted to find Steven!"
"That's a load of crap," Monica said with a roll of her eyes. "You knew he wasn't here! Why would you come here? And where's your little friend, anyway? Dr. Beck's sister, I mean. She'd be looking for him too."
"Kay wanted me to go to the medical section with her," I lied, praying I could be more convincing this time, with Solomon's piercing eyes bearing down upon me. "She wouldn't listen when I tried to tell her you'd bring him here."
"What would make you think that?" demanded Dr. Grier.
I slumped my shoulders and said the only thing I could think of. It may sound risky now, but really, when you think about it, I didn't tell them anything they weren't already suspecting by this point, seeing as they knew the files had been locked for a reason.
"Steven told me what he was going to do, back when you let us have our time alone," I said, hanging my head in abject defeat. "He said he was going to lock his computer, as insurance to make sure you'd keep your word."
Dr. Grier regarded me with a narrow stare for a moment and I did my very best to look cowed and frightened. Then he nodded slowly, as if understanding at last. "Very well," he said in a very measured tone, "I can accept that, I suppose. I tried very hard to earn your trust, Dr. Beck, but I can see that I failed. Seeing as our time is running out here in this facility, I can no longer afford to utilize my preferred method of positive reinforcement."
"So now it's time for the threats, is it?" coughed Steven. He seemed barely able to stay seated, having to force himself to sit up without falling over. "Now the real Dr. Solomon Grier shows himself at last."
"I'm not a man who stoops to idle threats," said Solomon grimly. "I make promises and stick to them. Now I'm going to make you a new promise, Dr. Beck. If you do not turn to your computer and unlock those files right now, I will do something I really dislike--I will force you to watch as I hurt someone you love. Then, if you still won't give me what I want, I will put her to death, just as I did with Dr. Masterson."
I shuddered and backed away, grabbing hold of Sean's thumb and wishing there was some way out of this. He looked absolutely horrified and seemed unable to move. Monica was smiling, but I saw her swallow heavily, suggesting she wasn't too terribly thrilled with this idea, either. She also blinked a few times and put a hand to her forehead, as though distraught, but whatever was going through her mind, I had no idea. She did seem to be sweating, though, as if maybe she was nervous about this for some reason. Did she actually care about me, or Steven, or what happened to any of us? I somehow doubted that very much.
Meanwhile, Steven was nodding and looking at Solomon with an expression of resignation. "I knew this was coming," he said, suddenly surprising me by lighting up with a smile. "Thank you, Dr. Grier, for reassuring me that I can still be a good judge of people."
"I'm through fencing with you." Solomon reached out a hand and held it next to me, where Sean was still cradling me so carefully. "Mr. Copeland, if you please. Hand over the prisoner. Now."
Sean blinked a couple of times and looked up. I saw that he, too, was sweating profusely, and looked like he was wavering. For a moment I thought he might try to run, but he'd have to go past Dr. Grier to make it into the hall. He might've been weighing his options, or maybe he was just too horrified by seeing his boss suddenly betray his true intentions that he was just unable to react.
Solomon's face twisted up into an angry scowl, and his voice rose to a level I'd never heard before. "Mr. Copeland!" he barked insistently. "Give her to me NOW!"
Clearly, he was through playing games, and I wasn't the only one who realized this. Sean jerked to attention and slowly blinked again. For an instant he started to respond as he'd been taught as a soldier--to obey orders unquestioningly. Then he froze and licked his lips, seeming for a moment like a deer caught in the headlights. Again he wobbled on his feet, then finally righted himself and looked directly into Solomon's eyes.
"No, sir. I will not."
Dr. Grier looked dumbfounded. "What did you say?"
"I will not hand her over," he replied in a firm voice. "I will not give her to you to be tortured and killed! She is a tiny, helpless woman, not a tool you can use to get your way! She's a human being, for the love of God!"
Solomon's lips curled up into a snarl, and his next words were harsh and threatening. "If you don't give her to me, I'll--"
That was as far as he got. As he spoke, Dr. Grier was withdrawing his hand and moving it towards his jacket. Seeing this, Sean instantly reacted by going for his own gun. Unfortunately, he was hampered by his need to keep me from flying out of his grip, so he was too slow. He might've been too slow anyway, for Dr. Grier's weapon was out in a flash, just as it had been during Phil's execution.
The shot hit Sean in the chest, below his right shoulder. He didn't spin around or anything so dramatic. Instead he just jerked spasmodically as if someone had poked him with a sharp stick. His right arm went instantly limp and he looked down at the growing red stain on his shirt with a dull, vacant expression.
He sagged to the floor, still holding me carefully, making sure I didn't fall. As he dropped he looked at me through bloodshot eyes filled with nothing but regret. "I'm...I'm sorry," he gasped weakly. "I never saw...what we did to you was wrong...please...tell Kay. Tell her I'm sorry. So...sorry..."
His eyes rolled back. As he fell, Dr. Grier plucked me out of his hand with a quick grab. Screaming, I found myself face down in his palm, the very last place in the world I wanted to be at that moment. Terrified, I raised my head to gaze up into his scowling face. His thumb and forefinger hovered above me menacingly. Somewhere below a body thumped to the floor.
"Now," he hissed, pressing his index finger down on top of me, "unlock your files, Dr. Beck, unless you want to watch someone else die today!"
Steven just shook his head. He looked as though he was ready to drop--perhaps it was only sheer willpower that got him this far. He looked up at me, a sad and despairing look on his face, and when he spoke he did so weakly.
"I knew it would come to this," he told me. "I'm sorry, Natty. I really tried. There just wasn't any other way out. I'm sorry for what's about to happen, but I had no other choice."
"Enough!" snapped Dr. Grier. "Unlock the files! Now!"
He started to squeeze, and I cried out in pain. His fingertip was driving its way into my stomach, and up under my ribs. The worst part about it was, he was barely even trying. If he used all his strength, he could squash me like a bug.
"All right!" Steven agreed instantly. "Just...just don't hurt her. Please. I'll give you the goddamn files!"
The pressure lifted and I gasped for breath, choking back tears. Steven turned away, unable to look at me any more, and started slowly typing at the computer. Nearby, Monica looked over his shoulder, making sure he was really doing what he was supposed to. She glanced back at Solomon, rubbing absently at her moist forehead as if recent events had given her a headache, and gave a quick nod of affirmation.
"There," sighed Steven after he was done. "Now please, let me have her. I've given you everything you asked. If you have any humanity left in you, please...just give me my Natty back."
Monica leaned over and took the mouse from his trembling hand. For a moment she had to catch herself, as if perhaps she'd tripped over something. I glanced down, wondering if maybe someone on the floor had done something to her, but saw nothing. She held her head for a moment, as though dizzy, then shook it off, gritted her teeth and started dragging folders around.
"All right," said Dr. Grier after a moment. "I'm sorry it had to be this way, Dr. Beck. You shouldn't have tried what you did, but I can appreciate your caution. Here is your girlfriend, as I promised."
He handed me over. Steven took me carefully, cradling me in his hands, as though I were as fragile as glass. All I could do was cling to him, wishing I could do so much more, and sigh contentedly. "It's all right," I called up to him, running a fingertip across the little whorl in the center of his thumb. "You did what you had to do."
"I know, but that doesn't make it any easier." He sighed and his head lolled for a moment, eyes nearly shut. I was afraid he was going to faint right there, but he somehow kept it together.
"Are you going to be okay?" I asked worriedly. "I thought you were getting better."
"I was, but not anymore." Steven lifted me up and carefully set me down on the table, near the edge of the desk. "Did they tell you what I did? What the chair is doing to me?"
"Sort of." I pointed up at Monica. "She explained it, I guess."
"I deliberately induced a transition," explained Steven slowly, swallowing every now and then and struggling to keep his head up. To my surprise, I saw him blinking rapidly, but whether this was on purpose or simply side effects from the treatment, I had no idea. "The machine told my body it was time to change. If I'm right, though, it won't actually happen. Before I actually get any smaller, the minicells will receive chemical signals indicating they're done working on me. At that point they'll take their leave, and I'll be permanently immune from that point on. Unfortunately," he added sadly, "I'm going to be unconscious for that whole time. I won't be able to protect you, Natty. He's probably going to kill me, and take you away, and there's nothing else I can do to stop that from happening. I'm sorry, Natty. So sorry."
"You needn't be so upset, Dr. Beck," said Monica, wiping her forehead while keeping her eyes on the file copying going on behind me. "You can die knowing you provided a great service to humanity. You're helping usher in a new age."
"An age where people like me are slaves to people like you," I replied bitterly. "That's the world they're really going to create, Steven! That's what they planned all along!"
Dr. Grier shook his head. "Not quite like that, I assure you," he replied in that same used car salesman voice he'd tried on me before. This time, I wasn't buying any of it. "I've tried to tell you how things are going to be, and you chose not to believe it. You have that right, of course. I've run out of time to convince you, and unfortunately, neither of you have any place in my brave new world. So, Dr. Beck, once you're unconscious, I'm going to leave you here with your little friend, just as I promised."
"Except we won't be leaving here alive," Steven added pointedly. "You sure do know how to keep your promises, don't you?"
"I never claimed otherwise." Dr. Grier gave a faint smile and turned to Monica. "Are you almost done, my dear?"
"Just now. That's the last file." She ejected a minidisc from the external drive and held it up in triumph, smiling even though she looked rather pale, and seemed to be having trouble keeping her hand steady. "Everything's on here and ready to go."
"About time." Dr. Grier took the disc and pocketed it, then withdrew his PDA. He punched something in and said, "Dr. Clark, we have the data. Activate the countdown on the explosives, and signal everyone to get to the exit point."
"Okay, sir, I'll try," came a weak-sounding voice over the PDA's speakers. "It's so hard to move. Something...in the air. They may be...using gas...nobody's replying on any channels." There was a pause, and then he went on, clearly struggling to get the words out. "There, I set the timer, but...ohhh, my head..."
"Are you still there?" demanded Solomon angrily. "What was that about gas? Are you all right? Dr. Clark! Talk to me! David! Come in!"
There was no response. Dr. Grier punched another button, and then another, but nobody responded. He frowned in disgust, shoving the PDA back in his pocket. "That doesn't make any sense," he remarked, shaking his head in disbelief. "A gas attack? None of the people coming off that bus had masks or chemical gear. Something else is going on."
"Doesn't matter," said Monica, getting to her feet. "We should just...leave...ohh, my head!" She wobbled sideways and had to catch herself on the desk, landing her gigantic hand far too close to me for comfort. I jumped to the side, and as I scrambled away, to my surprise, I caught a glimpse of someone waving to me in the darkness between the monitor and the computer's tower case.
It was Kay! She just as quickly raised a finger to her pursed lips, indicating I keep my mouth shut, so of course I looked elsewhere, trying not to give any indication I'd seen anything unusual. Instead I glanced up at Monica, whose head was rolling back and forth on her slender neck, as if she was losing control of her muscles. A thin layer of sweat graced her skin, which had turned ghastly white. "What's...happening to me?" she mumbled weakly.
"Monica!" Solomon stepped forward to catch her as she nearly fainted on the spot. "Are you all right? You've gone completely pale!"
"I'm...I can't focus on anything." She was twisting her head around now, back and forth, as if she'd gone blind. All at once I knew exactly what she was going through, and I had to force myself not to jump for joy. After all, I'd just experienced the same thing myself. As far as I was concerned, it couldn't happen to a more worthy candidate.
"My hands are numb," Monica said, suddenly horrified. She gazed up in the general direction of Dr. Grier's face, tears coming from her eyes. "Oh, God, Solomon...it's happening to me! I'm...I'm changing! Please don't let me! I don't want to shrink! You told me it wouldn't happen! You promised! Please, do something!"
"It's not possible!" he replied in confusion. "This can't happen. The suppressants...it can't happen. It can't! Monica, please, just hold on, and I'll--!"
But it was too late. She tried one last time to take a deep breath and hold it, as if that might somehow stop the inevitable, but failed. Then she just collapsed in his arms. He held her for a moment, then slowly let her crumple to the floor, and for the first time I think I saw real feeling in his eyes. The first spark of real, honest, completely truthful emotion of any sort from Dr. Solomon Grier.
"This can't happen!" he repeated, voice rising in anger. "Not naturally! That means...that means it had to be induced." He stood up and turned to face Steven, who to my surprise was actually smiling. No, not just smiling, but grinning with that Cheshire cat grin I'd seen on him more than once, whenever he had some kind of surprise up his sleeve.
"YOU did this!" Dr. Grier roared, pointing an accusing finger at Steven. "That machine! That chair of yours! It wasn't supposed to make you immune! It was built to induce a transition in anyone nearby!"
Steven nodded slowly. "Anyone in about a one block radius, in fact," he replied, and now his voice was no longer weak, but filled with a confidence I hadn't seen since before this whole business started. "Everyone in this building and close by outside, including your attackers, unfortunately for them. They're all going Stage One right now. Every single goddamn one of them. You can kill me if you want, but I've put an end to your little charade."
"Impossible!" he hissed, looking like he was about ready to wring Steven's neck. "I saw your work! I watched you! There's no way you could've--"
"I didn't, actually. Most of the preliminaries were done by my good friend and colleague Dr. Hans Kleinmann, before he died. You might call this his revenge, I suppose. He killed himself rather than help you, so I thought I should stay true to his memory. I built the designs to his specifications, but just added a few things here and there. You might say I hid them in plain sight." Steven chuckled for a moment, flashed a wink at me, and grinned. "It's good to know I can still get away with that sort of thing on occasion."
Dr. Grier was snarling, but he managed to keep control of himself, at least for now. "You may think you've won," he muttered angrily, patting at the pocket containing the disc Monica had given him, "but you haven't. I have all the data I need. I can start again, and I will. You've even dealt a blow to one of my enemies, too. For that I have to thank you. Now, I'm afraid the clock is ticking, and I really must depart. Enjoy your victory for another eight and a half minutes. Farewell, Dr. Beck."
"Just one more thing," said Steven. "I don't normally like to gloat, but I'd like to point out that I did fool you more than once today. Not just with the machine, either. I'm talking about something else."
"What do you mean?" Solomon demanded, starting to reach into his coat pocket, but not really seeming to be in any hurry about it. I knew what was about to come next--or at least I thought I did. But Steven wasn't done with his surprises. Not by a long shot.
"Well," he went on, smiling innocently, "you see, the chair actually worked on me the way it was supposed to. It made me immune...and the side effects faded about, oh...fifteen minutes ago."
Dr. Grier's eyes went wide as he realized what that meant, but before he or I or anyone else could react, Steven leapt out of his chair, lunging faster than I've ever seen him move. He slammed into Dr. Grier with amazing speed, before he could finish drawing his weapon. The gun flew away, landing with a clatter in the hallway outside, even as the two men crashed heavily into the nearby wall.
They traded blows, cursing and swearing at each other, and all I could do was stand there, paralyzed, while the battle raged.
One thing I'd learned about being Stage Three was it was really like living in a completely different universe than before. I had stepped through a portal, like Alice through the Looking Glass, and having sampled the strange potion on the table, I was now in Wonderland.
In this bizarre, perspective-bending world, everything was much as I remembered it, only about twenty-five times bigger, and what that basically meant was that whenever I tried interacting with the objects and creatures in this reality, I was essentially helpless. I couldn't type on a keyboard, or write with a pencil, or use an elevator, or pretty much anything at all because everything else was all out of proportion to me. And, of course, whenever I was captured by one of the strange denizens of this freakish alternate universe, I was powerless to escape. I was, in short, no longer in charge of my own destiny, and of all the things I'd discovered since transitioning, that was the thing I hated most.
Now, standing there on that desk, watching in horror as Steven and Solomon slugged it out just a few feet away, I'd never felt so useless. I wanted to help Steven somehow, but if I even tried, either of the combatants might crush me underfoot, or smash me with some piece of thrown office equipment. So all I could do was stand there and gawk, staring as if hypnotized by the battle going on just a few feet away, unable to participate in the slightest.
Steven's surprise attack at least disarmed Dr. Grier, who seemed momentarily stunned as he was thrown into the wall, but he recovered quickly, kicking his assailant away and to the floor. Steven jumped up instantly, flinging a wastebasket as a distraction, which bounced off the wall with a loud bang that made me cringe and cover my ears. Almost instantly, Steven was back on Dr. Grier before he could get to the doorway to try recovering the pistol. They each swung punches, but missed, and then as Steven tried another, Dr. Grier rushed him, and just like that they were out of sight somewhere down the hall.
I could still hear them, trading blows and cursing at each other, not too far away. If only I could help somehow! Then, as I moved along the tabletop, trying to find a view of the fight, I saw the gun.
Instantly I knew what I had to do, but as I turned to race for the computer's power cord so I could head for the floor, I stopped cold. Aleta and Kay had stepped out of the shadows, Kay to try to see the fight, and Aleta to run straight up to me. "I see what yer thinkin'," she called out, "and it ain't gonna work! You ain't got time. Quick! Where's the disc?"
"The disc...?" I began, shaking my head in confusion. In all the excitement I'd completely forgotten about the minidisc Steven hid somewhere in this room! Honestly, I'd pretty much not expected to see Aleta again, and her sudden appearance and urgent tone, as well as the fight going on out in the hall, had me pretty well befuddled.
"The disc ya said was here!" Aleta yelled, shaking me by the shoulders. "Snap outta it, chica! I gotta get that thing before this whole place blows sky high!"
"I have to help Steven!" I insisted, paying her no further attention. "Kay, come with me! If we can get to the gun, we can--!"
"It'll never happen!" Aleta stamped her boot loudly on the desk in anger, so my gaze snapped automatically back to her. "Please! You gotta help me! If el bastardo wins this fight, he's gonna get away! We gotta have some way ta stop him!"
I started to push her away again, because the grunts and slamming sounds were starting to get more intense out there, but something in her words made me stop. She was right, of course. I didn't like either of their ideas for what to do with the world after all this was said and done, but at least if the two of them had to fight over it, maybe neither of them would win.
"Fine," I agreed, casting my eyes about the desk. There was the computer tower, of course, and the monitor, and a couple of speakers. The monitor was sitting on a tall stand that had two open trays built in underneath, like a kind of space-saving inbox and outbox arrangement, but these looked empty to me. Off to the left were a few other typical desktop denizens: a stapler, a tape dispenser, and a little stand with a couple of pencils and pens sticking out of it. The only other thing was an open soft drink can sitting on a gray coaster, the latter of which I knew from previous visits bore the Henderson Science Center logo. There were no candy wrappers, loose sheets of paper, or anything like that, because Steven was too tidy to ever allow such things to clutter up his workspace.
So that's what made my eyes gravitate back towards that soft drink can. Was it empty? I walked over and pushed on it, and it slid sideways easily. With little effort I was able to force it off the coaster.
"Good thinkin'," said Aleta. "That coaster's about the right size. He musta set it on top of the disc!"
Without hesitation she reached down, slipped her fingers underneath, and pried it up, only to find nothing at all beneath it. She looked quite crestfallen, but I wasn't, because I already knew she was looking in the wrong place.
Nearby, Kay was grinning. "You really do know my brother, don't you?" she said insightfully. "Hidden in plain sight, indeed."
"Yeah," I replied with a knowing nod. "Steven would never leave an empty soda can on his desk. Never. He'd toss it in the recycling bin the moment he finished."
"Then where's the damn disc?" demanded Aleta.
"I'll show you," I replied. "Help me push this over."
Working together, we were able to tip the can until it fell, and as it turns out, my guess was right. Taped securely to the bottom, where it fit neatly inside the indented underside of the can, was an unlabeled silver minidisc. I had to hand it to Steven--it really was a perfect hiding place, right out on the desk, where anyone looking for it might well just move the can to check under the coaster, as Aleta had, never once imagining the prize was right there under her nose.
"Smart guy, that Dr. Beck," Aleta noted, reaching down into her left boot and withdrawing a long, slim blade. With this she swiftly cut the clear tape away, until the disc could be easily pried out of its hiding place. She stuck her arm through the hole in the center, slung her trophy up over her left shoulder, and glanced back at us. "Thanks for all yer help," she told us. "My parents won't be affected by that blast, if I heard right, and they ain't the only ones. They'll get me out. Come with me, and I'll see to it yer taken care of."
"I want to wait for Steven," I insisted. "Go ahead. We'll catch up."
Aleta nodded, and glanced at Kay, who wasn't moving. She, too, had made her choice. All three of us knew what was going to happen now, of course. There would be no catching up with Aleta, once she disappeared into the walls.
"Fine, whatever," said the black-clad woman, rolling her eyes and shaking her head sadly. "I'm outta here. Good luck. Yer gonna need it."
With that, she slipped away into the shadows, not encumbered by the disc at all as far as I could tell. She vanished from sight just as a loud slam sounded from outside. The walls seemed to shake from the blow, and someone groaned in agony. The thump of a body collapsing to the floor was the next thing we heard, and our eyes turned immediately to the open doorway.
The fight was over--but who had won?
We both waited anxiously, eyes fixed on that door, waiting to see who would come to get the gun. A moment later, a bedraggled figure lurched into view, gasping for breath, hunched over in obvious pain. There was blood all over his face and he had bruises everywhere, and I was pretty sure his nose was broken, but none of that mattered as much as his identity.
My heart sank right through the desk, because it was Dr. Grier!
He didn't look into the room immediately, because he was busy going for his weapon, so he didn't notice us perched on the edge of the desk. That gave Kay and I time to quickly rush to the shadows under the speaker, where Aleta had been moments before. She was gone now, of course, already on the floor and making her way to the bolt hole on the nearby wall.
The hole was visible now, no longer concealed by the trash can, and looked pretty obvious to me, although anybody else might think it was just a crack next to the power outlet. Of course, if Dr. Grier happened to look down there and see Aleta climbing towards it, he might rush to catch her, but he wasn't interested in what little tiny people were up to at that moment. So he didn't notice as she finished her short climb, hefted the minidisc into the tunnel, and disappeared from sight.
From our hiding place we could see Dr. Grier point the gun at someone down the hall, presumably Steven. For a moment my heart stopped, for I thought Solomon was going to shoot, and he very nearly did, but then apparently thought better of it. He put the gun away, moved to his defeated opponent, and dragged him back into the room a few moments later.
Kay and I both gasped. Steven was just as beat up as Solomon was, perhaps more so. His face was black and blue from what must've been repeated pummeling, and he was rasping loudly in short, exhausted breaths. He looked to be right on the very edge of consciousness.
"You fought well, but desperation only goes so far, Dr. Beck," said Solomon, pulling down one of Steven's eyelids to see if there was any reaction. When there wasn't, he casually flipped him over like a sack of grain, reached into a pocket, and took out a roll of duct tape. Considering I doubted very much that someone like Dr. Grier would normally walk around with that particular item, I figured this meant he'd planned all along to do what he was doing right now.
Over the space of about thirty seconds, Solomon trussed up Steven pretty thoroughly, binding his ankles and then wrists behind his back. Then he pulled him up into a mostly seated position. "Your plan almost worked," Dr. Grier said slowly, putting down the tape and rubbing his jaw absently. He checked the clock on the wall, presumably to make sure the explosives weren't about to go off. Obviously deciding he still had plenty of time, he continued to talk to the unconscious man before him. "You almost won, you know. You did fool me, I'll give you that, but I won't let such things happen again. It's still within my power to save you, of course, if I choose to do so. If someone were to give me a reason."
He turned slowly to face the general direction of the computer, but didn't come forward to start rooting around for me, which was probably fortunate because he would've found us relatively easily. I was already planning to make a dash for the cord and try to reach the floor, but Kay grabbed my arm and held it firmly. "Stay still," she insisted. "If you move, he'll see us."
Dr. Grier glanced around for a moment, checking the ground as well, and then shrugged. Tearing up the office would've taken too much time for his tastes, I supposed, so he was going to try to sweet-talk me out. "This is your last chance, Miss Patterson. You can stay here and die when the explosives go off, or you can reveal yourself of your own free will. If you come out, I'll keep you safe and take good care of you. You have my word on that."
For a very brief moment, I was tempted. He might well do exactly what he said, if anything of what he'd already told me about his motivations and goals was correct. Yet I knew, like so many other promises Dr. Grier had made, he would follow through with it only as far as it suited him. Sure, I'd be safe, but who knew what else he'd do to me after that? I was pretty sure I wouldn't like whatever he had planned.
So I didn't move or say anything in response. He was offering me either death, or a lifetime as his plaything, and I chose the former.
After a moment, he shrugged again. "Very well, have it your way," he said indifferently, reaching down to pick up the limp form of Monica, who hadn't moved at all since her collapse. She was now coated in beads of sweat and had turned ashen pale, the first signs of the change going on inside her body. I thought perhaps her clothes were looking a bit loose, but that might've just been my imagination.
Dr. Grier glanced in my way one last time, as if he knew where I was. "Oh, well," he commented, slinging Monica over his shoulder in a fireman's carry, "at least I'll have another pet I can play with. Be sure to thank Dr. Beck for that, if he happens to come to before the end. Goodbye."
With that, he walked out of the room, avoiding the body of Sean Copeland and slamming the door shut loudly. I thought maybe I'd hear the sound of a key turning in a lock, but I guess he didn't feel the need. Considering we only had a few minutes before bombs started exploding, and Steven was out cold and trussed up beyond hope of moving anywhere on his own, he was probably right.
I still had a chance to escape, of course, but I didn't want to leave Steven behind. With little thought to my own safety, I grabbed hold of the power cord and slid down as fast as gravity would carry me. Kay followed a moment later, seemingly unconcerned by the descent from what to us was a considerable height--at least perhaps she'd been cured of that particular phobia, for all the good that did us.
We ran to Steven, and I climbed up onto his chest, rushing to his battered face. Kay checked his wrists, but the duct tape was secure and impossible to remove, at least in the few minutes we still had. She followed me a moment later, looking more than a bit concerned about the bruises and blood on his face, and we stood there for a long moment, unsure of what to do.
I had to let him go. I knew that, of course. There was nothing else to do now but flee into that hole in the wall, hoping to find a way out before the building came down around us. Yet telling the man you love goodbye is no easy thing. I couldn't even think of what to say, if words could even express what I was feeling.
Then, before I could even try to mumble something, Steven's eyes flickered open. He focused on us after a moment, coughed briefly, and forced a smile. "Good," he rasped. "He didn't get you. I was hoping you could hide. Didn't think I could beat him. Worth a shot, though. Had to be convincing...I was convincing, wasn't I? Never could fight worth a damn..."
"Steven, I--" I started, but he cut me off.
"What a bastard," he managed through a brief fit of coughing, "leaving me alive like this, just to torture you! You have to go, both of you. Kay, take care of Natty, please. I love you both so much."
"No, Steven, I won't leave you!" I insisted. "I won't! Kay, get out if you can! I'm staying with him. I want to be with him, now and always."
"If you're staying, I'm staying," said Kay insistently. "Besides, you know we'll never get out. It's already too late. If we're going to die, we die together."
"Please don't do this," Steven argued feebly. "Oh, you're both so stubborn! No wonder I love you so."
"It's okay, Steven," I told him, reaching out to lean against his cheek. "This is what we want. Both of us."
He twisted his head to the side and kissed me on the shoulder, and pretty much most of the rest of my arm as well. Kay stepped up and put a hand on his face, picking one of the few spots that wasn't bruised, and then she took my arm in hers. I smiled and shut my eyes, managing to find a brief moment of contentedness, despite everything else that had happened.
If this was how I was going to go out, I wanted it to be with these two, the man I loved and his sister, whom I now considered a true friend, the first one of those I'd had in a very long time.
I was ready to die, I knew then. I could die happy, knowing we'd thwarted Dr. Grier's aims, and helped his enemies oppose him as best we could. I felt ready, as ready as anyone ever is for the end. I might as well be, seeing as how there was no way anyone could possibly save us at this point.
Or so I thought.
The voice behind us was so startling I actually jumped. Stumbling, I reached out my hand to catch myself and almost stuck it in Steven's eye. He blinked and glanced behind us in surprise and wonder, while I turned to regard the speaker with utter amazement, because I figured she'd be long gone by now.
"You three are pathetic, ya know that?" chuckled Aleta, shaking her head disapprovingly. "I ain't never heard so much sappy love talk as long as I lived! But I just can't let you die, no way, not after you helped me, so here, lemme do ya one last favor, then I'm gone fer real."
With that, she pulled out that knife of hers, and started sawing on the duct tape manacles binding Steven's wrists. The blade was tiny, but also very sharp, and it cut through the thick plastic and sticky fibers quickly. In a few seconds, his hands were free, and she moved on to his ankles while we jumped down to the floor.
"Aleta, I--I don't know what to say," I told her honestly. I was, in fact, totally flabbergasted by her reappearance. "Does this mean you're coming with us...?"
"Nah, I got me a quick escape route, won't take but a couple minutes," she replied, jabbing her thumb towards the hole in the wall. "The disc's already there, I just popped back to see if you were comin'." She sawed through another one of the sections of duct tape and looked up at Steven. "Now you there, get yer tight giant man ass outta this place right now! You only got like three minutes, maybe less. Go on, go!"
Aleta finished cutting and put the knife away. Without another word she dashed for the bolt hole on the wall, glancing back one last time as she reached the cable leading up. "Thanks again," I called out as she ascended, and for a moment I thought maybe she didn't hear, but at the last she gave a final wave and vanished.
"Well, well, she had a heart after all," I reflected. "I wasn't really sure. Maybe her side will win this little war they're having, and everything will turn out all right."
"Maybe so," agreed Kay, glancing up at her brother's immense, awestruck face, "but we really need to get out of here right now. If you'd be so kind...?"
Steven just shook his head, rubbing absently at his wrists where the tape had irritated his skin. "Sure, I'd be happy to," he replied after a moment. "Just answer me one thing, if you don't mind."
"Anything!" I replied eagerly, even as he collected us both in his great big gentle hands, preparing to carry us off to safety at last.
"All right, then," he said, staring down at us with an expression of complete befuddlement, "who on God's green earth was that?"
We just laughed. None of us had ever gotten the chance to warn him about Aleta, had we? So of course her sudden appearance through a hole in the wall must've been something of a shock, as if our own little miniature guardian angel had shown up to save us from certain doom.
There was no time to explain it all now, of course. "We'll tell you later," chuckled Kay, "but we really need to get going. Before that, though, can you check on Sean?"
"Kay," I said urgently, "there are explosives about to blow us up, remember?"
But Steven was already complying, obviously remembering Sean's one shining moment of misguided heroism there at the end. Lowering us carefully into his outside shirt pocket, where we were safe enough and could still see out, he forced himself to his feet. I could already tell his injuries were painful, but not serious--he wouldn't have been able to get up that easily if he'd had any broken bones. Dr. Grier gave him quite a beating, and he'd be black and blue for a few days, but he'd get over it, thank goodness.
With a few grunts of discomfort Steven shuffled over and checked on Sean's pulse and breathing. "Still alive," he said after a moment. "I don't think he's that badly hurt, but he's starting the transition."
"If he survives, the process should push the bullet out, so he should recover," Kay supposed, and I got the impression she was probably only guessing, or perhaps just hopeful. "Do you think you can move him? The fire escape's not that far. I don't want to see him die in here. Not after he tried to help us."
Steven nodded. "Yeah, I'll try," he said, and just as Dr. Grier had done with Monica, he slung the unconscious man over his shoulder. He gave a few more grunts of pain, but endured it without any other complaints. It helped that Sean wasn't particularly tall and heavy in the first place, of course, but still, it was still a pretty amazing feat of strength. I'm sure Steven would've attributed it to the adrenaline still in his system, or something equally scientific, but all I knew was he was being pretty damn heroic right then. I was pretty damn proud of him, actually.
You're probably thinking we should've been moving more quickly than this, what with the explosives and all, but it's not like I had any say in the matter--Steven was the one who should've been hurrying. We actually did have a couple of minutes to spare, as it turned out. There was a clock in the office, as I've already mentioned, and Steven wisely (and surreptitiously) taken note of the time when Dr. Grier made that call to activate the explosives. In other words, he knew exactly how long we had all along. That's my Steven, always paying attention to the details.
As we made our way through the doors, onto the metal fire escape stairs outside, we passed a couple more unconscious people, obviously some of the security men Dr. Grier had been using. They appeared to have been trading gunfire with two other men down at the ground level, but all of them were now in the throes of the Stage One transition. Steven ignored the lot of them and moved out towards the edge of the field that surrounded the back of the Science Center complex, casting his eyes about worriedly, as if Dr. Grier might be lurking someplace. "El bastardo" didn't put in an appearance, though. Apparently he'd already made good his escape. I hoped he and his new little toy would be quite happy together.
Well, not really. But at least one of them would be getting what they deserved. Who knows? Maybe shrinking Monica down was something Solomon had always planned to do all along. I wouldn't put it past him. Maybe he'd promised to reward her for her service, and that was his way of keeping his word. That sounded exactly like something he'd do.
Once we were safely into the line of trees that bordered the little stream flowing along the edge of the property, we waited for the explosion. While we watched from our hiding place, we could see some movement in the distance, near the front of the building. There were two people there, dragging unconscious figures outside, to a safe distance. A man and a woman, both with very dark skin, and not showing any signs of transitioning. I figured those had to be Aleta's parents, since they were unaffected by the inducer blast.
A couple of moments later, I saw another figure, this one very small--Stage One, obviously. She was holding something in her hands and calling out to the others, who gathered round eagerly. I guessed from this that they'd recovered Aleta safely, which was somewhat comforting. She'd helped us escape in the end, so I was glad she was all right.
There was something about that Stage One person, though. Something familiar. I didn't recognize her at first, but then she turned and I caught a better view, and even from this distance I could see who it was--Iris Kendall!
That had to be the connection, then--the last piece of the puzzle I hadn't really tried to put together until now. How had the Raneiros found us in the first place, anyway? How had Aleta come to be there, in that building? Up until now I'd just accepted this as a happy coincidence, without ever really bothering to ask myself how it happened. Well, now I knew. They had Iris on their team all along, working for them in the same way Phil had been working for Dr. Grier. Some of the things Iris said to me, back when we spoke in her office, suddenly made a whole lot more sense.
I was just about to say something about Iris to the others when the countdown finally ended and the explosives went off. We were sort of expecting the entire building to blow apart, with one of those giant fireballs like you see in the movies, but that didn't happen. Instead there were just some loud pops from inside, and a couple of windows blew out on various floors. Then smoke started pouring out of those holes as the building slowly caught fire.
Well, bless my Steven's kind heart, he wasn't about to just stand there and watch people die. Making sure he wouldn’t be seen by the Raineros, who were busy with their own rescue efforts anyway, he went back up and hauled Dr. Grier's two unconscious goons to safety, along with the ones from Aleta's team as well. Once he was sure they wouldn't burn to death, he came back to Sean, picked him up again, and hopped across the stream at one of its narrower points. After that we just sort of disappeared into the undeveloped land there, following its edge until we reached a road we could use to get to a bus stop. On the way, we took cover as a couple of fire trucks rolled past, but nobody saw us or stopped to ask why Steven was carrying an unconscious (and bleeding) man over his shoulder.
The bus took us to the nearest hospital, and Steven left Sean there anonymously. The police were sure to wonder about his injury, so there was no point sticking around to answer any questions. No one was going to believe our crazy story, anyway, so we didn't even try to tell it to anyone. I was pretty confident that Sean would be all right, especially after Kay had a look at the bullet wound and pronounced it non life-threatening.
She also promised to look in on Sean again later, once he'd recovered. You know, I really thought she would, too. He'd sworn to protect her, no matter what, and proven in the end that he really would've done just that. Something about that appealed to Kay, in a way she didn't understand, but I certainly did. Maybe, one day, the two of them might get together. Who knows? Stranger things have certainly happened.
Anyway, Steven went home after that, taking the two of us with him, safely hidden in his pocket. I thought briefly about suggesting we instead went on the run, or into hiding, but there was little point in that. Dr. Grier would've gone underground again, and figured we were dead anyway, so he wouldn't bother watching for us. Besides, there was nothing else we could give him. He had all Steven's research, and Dr. Kleinmann's as well. He didn't need anything else, so why bother risking himself further? No, I was pretty sure we'd seen the end of him.
Steven took care of us that night, making sure our every need was met, and giving us comfortable little beds to sleep in. Of course, once Kay was safely out of the picture, I slipped away and found him, and we tried a few things only two people deeply in love and of radically different sizes can really appreciate. I'll leave the details to your no doubt fertile imagination, but let me say that I did, in fact, make good on my earlier promise to have my way with him.
Oh, and if you're wondering, yes, I really did tie him up, just like the Lilliputians did with Gulliver.
I think Kay knew what we'd been doing, especially since I was awfully tired the next morning, and so was Steven. He fixed himself breakfast, and gave us each a few little chunks of eggs and toast, and every now and then I could see Kay grinning and shaking her head at us when she thought I wouldn't notice. For some reason I found that quite amusing.
I wasn't in a hurry to get to work anymore, so I was happy to just enjoy the morning with Steven. Somewhere in there, in between enjoying my breakfast and wondering what came next, I started to notice something odd. He kept staring out the window, watching the streets, and looking out at the city as if expecting something to happen. Finally, I decided to ask.
"What's going on?" I said curiously. "Are you wishing you could go back to work, Steven? You keep staring outside, like you want to go out there."
"No, I'm just looking at how peaceful everything seems," he replied with a casual smile. He reached down and gently lifted me up into the air. There was a time when that might've scared me, or at least made me cringe, but that was yesterday, and I knew I couldn't be in better hands. "Here, have a look," he went on, setting me down on a table near the window. "See? It's all so quiet."
I looked outside, seeing as how I now had a pretty good third floor view of a main street and several buildings beyond. To the right, in the distance, a line of highway wound its way through a couple of low hills. Steven wasn't kidding, either. It wasn't just peaceful and quiet--it was absolutely empty. There was nothing moving out there. No people were walking by, and no buses or other vehicles were out on the streets. The city, or at least the part of it I could see, looked like a ghost town.
"Steven," I said, suddenly quite worried, "what's going on?"
"Well, hang on, I'll explain," he began, lifting up Kay and setting her down beside me. Before he could get started, though, there was a knock at the door.
Of course my first thought was that Kay and I should probably hide somewhere, since technically harboring Stage Three people was a felony, but Steven looked a whole lot more worried than that. He jumped up in obvious fear and rushed over to a nearby drawer, where he scrambled for the gun he'd liberated from one of the unconscious security men back at Henderson. He checked the weapon, unlatching the safety, and glanced back over at us. "I need to hide you, and quickly," he said with no small amount of urgency. "There's no way anyone could be out there, unless--"
"Dr. Beck!" someone's voice called out. "Please, I know you're in there. I'm alone, and I'm unarmed. I have no wish to harm you. If I did, you'd already be dead."
Kay and I shuddered, because we recognized that voice, though we hadn't expected to ever hear it again. Silly us, huh? We should've known better.
Naturally, it was Dr. Grier.
There was something in Solomon Grier's voice this time, something different that I couldn't quite place right away. Even muffled by the door, we could tell something was wrong. He wasn't his usual forceful, overconfident self. He sounded weaker somehow, as if...well, deflated is the only word that comes to mind. That's an odd way to put it, I know, but that's what it sounded like to me. The old voice I remember always seemed full of self-assured bravado, and now, it sounded like all the air had been let out of that balloon.
Maybe that was why Steven decided to open the door, despite the fact that Kay and I were both standing on the kitchen table near the window, in full view of the entranceway, with nowhere to hide at all. Or maybe it was that Steven had a loaded gun in his hand and wasn't afraid to use it.
"All right," he said after a moment, slowly unlocking the latch and stepping back, staying behind the door as it creaked open. "What the hell do you want?"
True to his word, Dr. Grier was standing there unarmed. He didn't even have his usual business suit coat on, just a simple collared shirt and ordinary-looking khaki slacks. If he had a concealed weapon, it wasn't something he could get to easily.
"I apologize for intruding," he said slowly and cautiously, probably expecting to get shot at any moment, although Steven would never do something like that. " I must admit, I did strongly consider killing you after all, but in the end it would serve no real purpose. The damage is already done, isn't it? You've won, and ending your life would only be a petty act of spite on my part. Whatever else you may think of me, Dr. Beck, I'm man enough to admit when I've been beaten. Well played, sir."
"Thank you," said Steven suspiciously, "but this wasn't a game, although you may have thought it was."
"I never considered it a game," Dr. Grier replied. "Far from it."
"Whatever." Steven shook his head, but kept the gun level. "Is that all you came here to say? How did you even know I would be here? Didn't you leave us there to die?"
"Well, certainly, but I'm no fool," said Solomon with a shrug. "I considered it extremely likely that you would, in fact, escape. In fact, you might say I counted on it."
"And you didn't mind that?" demanded Steven, not sounding terribly surprised by this admission.
"Not particularly," replied Dr. Grier. "Had I actually cared, I would've locked you in that room, or simply put a bullet in your head. The tape was merely there to slow you down. Your resourceful little associates would surely have found a way to free you, as they obviously did, but in the meantime I had time to reach safety on my own."
Kay and I both frowned at that. We hadn't actually done the rescuing, but only because Aleta was there. Would we have thought of something in time, had she not shown up? Maybe there was something in one of the desk drawers that could've cut the tape, or maybe we would've figured out another way. I don't know. I guess I never will.
"In any event," Solomon went on, "if you did get away, you would certainly assume I was unaware of your escape, which would lull you into a false sense of security, and give me time to evaluate your research without fear of you going into hiding. Should your data prove insufficient, I would know exactly where to find you again."
Steven nodded and I could tell this particular revelation wasn't very appealing to him, and it certainly wasn't to me, either. But why was Dr. Grier bothering to explain all this? I had no clue, so I moved closer so I could hear the rest of it. Well, as close as I could without falling off the table. Kay was there, too, listening intently.
"In any event," Solomon went on, "everything worked out as I expected it to. You did, in fact, escape. From my hiding place I saw you exit the building, and save some of my men in the process. You are quite the hero, aren't you, Dr. Beck? I'm sure your sister thinks so, and Miss Patterson as well, isn't that right?"
He glanced over at us, and since we'd made no attempt to hide, we were easy to see. I nodded, and so did Kay.
"This better not be some kind of attempt to threaten me, or them," growled Steven, continuing to keep his weapon at the ready.
"Nothing of the sort, I assure you," said Dr. Grier, now starting to sound more like his old self than he had when he first arrived. "I bear you no further ill will," he went on hastily. "In fact, I quite admire you. If this were a motion picture, you would think the 'good guys' were triumphant in the end. I can't help but wonder wonder, however, if that will be the way it truly turns out, when it's all said and done."
"I'd like to think so," said Steven cryptically. "There's still a lot of work ahead of us, but I'll do my part. At least this way we'll be free to make our own choices, instead of having people like you make them for us."
"You may live to regret that decision," said Dr. Grier, "but I won't stand in your way any further. Everything I set out to do is no longer possible, thanks to you, so I have no reason to continue along that path. Of course, some of my former associates may not be quite as forgiving as I am."
Steven nodded, but said nothing. I was getting a bit confused, though. What were they talking about now? What was this all about? Why would Dr. Grier's old enemies care about something Steven had done? He had a lot of explaining to do, that's for sure, but I couldn't very well ask right now. Besides, Solomon was still talking.
"With that in mind," he continued, "I've decided that it's time to go into retirement. After all I've done, I think I've earned that, and an even sweeter reward besides." He reached into his pocket, taking care to do so slowly and deliberately, because Steven's gun still hadn't left him.
A moment later, Solomon withdrew something small enough to fit in his palm. He opened up his hand and showed us, and we realized it was a person. None other than Monica Rafferty, in fact. She was unconscious and dressed in an outfit similar to ours. Obviously, he hadn't let her stop at Stage One, but pushed her all the way to Stage Three like us. The message was clear--she was his pet now, and as far as I was concerned, that was exactly as it should be.
"As you can see, I won't be alone," he went on. "She completed the transition a few hours ago, before I left to come here, but I'm keeping her sedated for now. I want to enjoy the look on her face when she awakens, and what comes afterwards as well, but in my own way and in my own time." He smiled wistfully and ran a finger through his little doll's hair, then looked back up at Steven. "At least I have you to thank for this particular opportunity, Dr. Beck. You see, I promised Monica I would never shrink her myself, and in a way, I didn't. And I always do like keeping my promises, as I'm sure you're well aware."
"Of course," said Steven, letting a faint trace of a smile cross his face. While he might not condone the fate of Monica Rafferty, at least he could appreciate the irony. "Now was that all you had to say? Because if so, you should probably leave. Once people start waking up, you're going to stick out like a sore thumb, you know."
"Naturally," replied Solomon, smiling knowingly at him. "I'm no stranger to going underground, as it were. In any event, I've said what I came here for. Do what you have to do, Dr. Beck. I won't interfere any further, and unless something radically awkward happens, you'll never see me again. Goodbye to each of you, and good luck from here on out. I assure you, you're going to need it."
So saying, he pocketed his new pet, inclined his head in a final gesture of thanks, and turned to make his way back out the way he'd come.
Steven watched for a minute to make sure he was gone, and then shut the door. He flipped the gun's safety back on and moved over to the window, where he lingered for a few more moments, watching carefully. Eventually Dr. Grier stepped out of the front of the building, turned, and headed down the street, disappearing from sight around the bend in the road. Only then did Steven finally relax and put the gun away.
"Okay," I said as he came back over to us, "what the hell was that all about?"
"Why, whatever do you mean?" he replied with an impish grin. "You heard the man. He conceded defeat. Awfully sporting of him, wouldn't you say?"
"That's not what she's talking about, and you know it!" yelled Kay, stamping her foot impatiently. "What was all that business about you having more work to do, and we're all free to make our own choices, and all that crap?"
"Yeah, yeah, I know what she meant," chuckled Steven. "I was about to explain, actually, before Dr. Grier showed up. You have to let me savor this victory a little, though. It's not every day I get to save the world."
"Save the world?" I exchanged glances with Kay. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Steven turned to look back out the window, where the city still seemed to be sleeping, despite the late morning hour. Dr. Grier's distant figure walking away from our building was the only thing I'd seen move out there since I'd been on the table, where I had a pretty good view of the street and most of the nearby block. Surely someone would've walked by, or a bike cruised along the empty road, or a bus passed through the intersection, or something. Nope, all was quiet.
"I was wondering," Steven said with a sigh, "how long it would take for them to try it. Not long, apparently. I suppose I should've been surprised it took this long, but they were probably busy helping their people recover from the transition, so I can understand wanting to take a break first."
"What?" asked Kay in confusion. "Who did what, now?"
Steven smiled and pointed at the surprisingly empty view through the window. "I didn't know who you were going to give that disc to, back in my office," he said with a shrug. "It was really just a contingency plan anyway. It didn't really matter who wound up with it. There was more than just research data on there. A lot more."
"What do you mean?" demanded Kay. Her eyes narrowed and she put her hands on her hips. "I know that look. That guilty expression on your face when you've done something bad! What did you do this time?"
The expression in question wasn't one of guilt, though. No, it was that Cheshire cat grin of his again. I looked around for something to throw at him, but there was nothing of the right proportions, damn it.
After a moment Steven set his hand on the table, palm up. We both climbed on without hesitation, eager to have him finish his story. He moved away from the window and sat down in a recliner, carefully making sure to keep us both level in his hand. Even so, I had to drop to my knees to avoid getting thrown around too badly. "Do you remember what I told you about Dr. Kleinmann's research?" he inquired after a moment.
"Yeah, of course," Kay agreed insistently, trying to hurry him up, but of course that would be like rushing the sunrise. "What about it?"
"He'd discovered not only what makes people shrink," explained Steven, "but how to make them shrink, too. The same method used in Dr. Grier's 'inducer' device, as it turns out. But those things were deliberately designed to affect only a single person, as a safety feature--Dr. Grier didn't want his allies shrinking themselves when they used an inducer on an enemy, after all. In truth, it's actually easier to just send out an activation signal into an area, which of course is what I did back in the lab. I just made sure the sequences being broadcast didn't include the ones my minicells were using. That's why I didn't actually go Stage One myself."
"Okay, fine, we already knew all that," I protested. "What aren't you telling us?"
Steven smiled in that damnably frustrating way of his. "Well," he responded, obviously enjoying stretching this out as long as possible, just to keep us in suspense, "you see, when I made that disc, I'd already been visited by Dr. Grier, and a couple of his minions, like Sean Copeland, who was really quite a talkative guy, once you got to know him. Thanks to them, I knew all about Dr. Grier's whole plan, as well as all those enemies of his, each with their own designs on what to do to the world, once they were in power. I just couldn't let any of that happen, you see. I couldn't think of any way to choose between them, and I didn't want any of them to set up their own personal empires at the expense of all the rest of us. So I collected Dr. Kleinmann's research together, created a generic activation wave that would affect anyone, and put it on that disc, where anyone digging through the files would be sure to find it."
"You did what?" Kay was incredulous. "You mean you gave someone out there the power to--?"
"I didn't," he reminded us, raising his index finger and wagging it accusingly in our direction. "You did, when you gave that disc to Aleta! But I didn't know it would be her, of course. It could've been anyone. Hell, it might've been Dr. Grier, too. The same batch of code was locked away in those files he thought he was stealing. I suspect he'd probably be smart enough to check for something like that, though. So I'm pretty sure it was the Raineros that got the ball rolling."
"What ball?" demanded Kay. "I still don't quite get what this all means."
Steven patted her gently on the head. "It means, oh not so bright sister of mine, that when that disc was put into a computer sometime early this morning, and someone unwittingly activated the little program I created, a signal broadcast itself out across the Internet, and from there to pretty much everywhere, spreading and repeating itself like ripples on a pond. Once it got to the satellites, the signal pretty much blanketed the globe. There would be no stopping it."
"So that's why it's so quiet outside," Kay replied, nodding slowly as she finally realized exactly what he was getting at. There was a reason nobody was moving around out there. They were all indoors--beginning their transition to Stage One!
I couldn't believe it, at least not at first. The enormity of what he'd done was staggering. "Holy shit, Steven!" I gasped, hardly able to believe what I was hearing. "What the hell!"
He shook his head and sighed in resignation. "I'm sorry if that horrifies you," he explained, "but you have to understand the position I was in. I couldn't decide if I should help Dr. Grier, or oppose him, but in the end it didn't matter, because there weren't any acceptable options. I couldn't let any of those people take over the world, and every possible alternative only led to one of them eventually succeeding, and treating all the rest of us like slaves, or worse. There was only one way out that I could think of, and I had the power to make it happen, so I did. Morally, I had no other choice. See, there's nobody left out there now for them to corrupt to their side. Dr. Grier and those few others who are still immune--they're all alone now, except for their rapidly dwindling allies."
I just shook my head in amazement. I could understand why he did it. In fact, I'd wrestled with some of those ideas myself. I just hadn't realized he had that kind of way out. "I have to hand it to you," I said after a moment. "You really did it, didn't you? You found the Solution after all. It just wasn't the Solution anybody expected."
"Exactly," Steven agreed, smiling and looking quite relieved that I wasn't angry or upset with him. "I'm glad you're all right with this, Nat. I was worried you'd hate me, after you found out what I'd done."
"No, I could never hate you," I replied, smiling in appreciation. "The only way you could save the world was to make everybody shrink together."
"But this is a disaster!" complained Kay, pacing back and forth. "All those people! What about the unfinished minicities? What about all the people in hospitals? All the businesses? Supply shipments? Everything's going to be in total chaos!"
"It doesn't matter," I replied, letting the whole thing roll around in my head, and all at once I realized it made perfect sense. "No, it really doesn't matter! Don't you see? This is perfect! All those things were going to fade away anyway. The only thing we didn't know was when. Now we know. It's all right, Kay. The uncertainty is gone. When everyone wakes up in a few hours, they'll know exactly what they have to do, and can plan for it starting right now. No more screwing around, no more waiting for years to transition, just a clear and definite purpose for the first time in decades. That's what we always needed, anyway--a good kick in the ass! Steven gave us the Solution, and soon enough, everyone will realize what a true blessing it really is."
"It won't be easy, I know that," said Steven, glancing once more at the open window nearby, and waving a hand at the soon-to-be-obsolete city for giants. "That's what Dr. Grier was getting at. He was right, you know. There's a lot of work to be done, and a lot of things that could still go wrong. But everyone knew they would go Stage One eventually. There are still months before any of them go Stage Two. Plenty of time. It'll all work itself out. Humans will just have to adapt, like we always do. And in the meantime, if Dr. Grier or any of those others cause any problems, they'll stick out like a sore thumb, and we can easily deal with them."
"What about you, though?" I asked worriedly. "You aren't changing, Steven! You're immune, too. Won't that make you our enemy, once everyone is Stage Three?"
"Maybe it would," he told me, smiling once again with that incredibly irritating grin of his, "but you see, I'm not really immune, remember? That whole stupid story about driving the minicells out of my body was just one big fat red herring for Dr. Grier to chase. All I did was make sure the generic activation wave didn't affect my particular pattern when the blast went off. Neither did the one that just got broadcast this morning. The BMCs are still in me, though. I'll go Stage One sooner or later, on my own. Or," he added with a wink, "I can make it happen anytime, just by using another inducer on myself."
"I see," I replied, nodding to myself. "Hopefully not right away, though, right?"
"Of course not," he agreed readily. "Not immediately. There's still a few, uh, experiments I want to run, if you get what I'm saying."
"Oh, please," scoffed Kay, rolling her eyes and shaking her head sadly. We weren't exactly being subtle about it, were we? She put her hands on her hips and glared at me. "Oh, go on, get a room, you two!"
"That's not a bad idea," I pointed out. "I like the way you think, Kay! Now if you don't mind, we have some, ahem, experimenting to do."
She just sighed at the inevitable, climbing out of Steven's palm onto the arm of the chair without any further comment. He stood up and used the Cheshire cat face on me, and I knew he had something very interesting planned. "And here I thought you didn't like being a play toy," he remarked slyly.
"I'm not a toy!" I yelled at him in mock anger. "I'm a pet! Get it right, mister!"
"Okay, okay!" he agreed, striding off through his house, leaving Kay behind, still shaking her head and flushing from embarrassment. Steven, meanwhile, continued to chuckle heartily. "Of course, I don't like thinking of you as a pet, either. No, no, you're not that at all." He slowly changed his voice into a very, very bad German accent, complete with evil cackling after each sentence. "Oh, no, heh heh! Not ven ve have such incredible experiments to vork on! Ha ha haaa!"
He stopped in the bathroom and started rooting around, pulling out a couple of items that struck his fancy. A toothbrush, for example, and a small electric razor, plus a couple of Q-tips and one of those fuzzy pipe cleaner things you use to unclog your plumbing. What he intended to do with those...well, you can probably figure it out, if you think hard enough.
"Now zat I have you, my helpless little prisoner," he went on, slowly rolling one of the pipe cleaners between his thumb and forefinger, and grinning evilly all the while, "you shall be my guinea pig!"
I giggled and pretended to struggle to escape, but he'd have none of that. I was now trapped in the clutches of a horrible mad scientist, soon to be the victim of another one of his fiendish experiments! And I must say, the evil and ruthless Dr. Steven Beck, PhD, was every bit as meticulous and detail-oriented as ever, much to my eventual delight.
He had a reputation to live up to, you see. He was, after all, the man who shrank the world.