diaper dimension Convergence - Chapter 26 01/18/2025

[Operational Systems]

Greetings everyone. I have been working on a novel set in the Diaper Dimension since 2023, and I am pleased to announce that after 282,000 words, 50 chapters (along with a coda and an epilogue), and 522 pages, I am ready to share this adventure with the world. 

I began this project as a reaction to a particularly dark time in Personalias's epic Unfair, which I highly recommend if you haven't read it. I wanted Clark to triumph, and my frustration fueled the creation of this narrative. Additionally, I aimed to write a diaper dimension story that returned to its roots, referencing many concepts from the original PPP story,  while also expanding on them. This includes elements like body swapping, memory transfers, and meeting your double.

The original Ms. Pants story is not solely about diapers; it also explores themes of changing bodies and confronting ourselves, whether at our best or worst. I hope to have captured some of that essence in this tale as well.

It is often said that the Diaper Dimension encompasses every age regression story in existence. However, that's not entirely accurate, as many narratives wouldn't fit into the DD. I have endeavored to include some of the less popular ones. Initially, this was intended to be an anthology of various stories, but it gradually evolved into a more traditional novel. Nevertheless, some of that anthology vibe remains, so if you encounter something not your cup of tea, there will be something new coming in just a chapter or two.

I want to express my gratitude to my readers, especially those who have taken the time to provide feedback on the story. Writing something of this magnitude has been an incredible journey, pushing my writing abilities to their limits. While I don't always feel I succeeded, I believe the final product is quite good. A special thanks to my top readers, Sanguine Reader, Guilend, and Personalias, for encouraging me to continue and share this unusual tale of multi-dimensional travel and diapers.

I also want to acknowledge LostBBoyBear for creating an encyclopedia and Baby Sofia for providing links to other authors; both have been invaluable for my background research. Additionally, thanks to everyone who has penned a story set in this dimension. I have read as much as I could find.

This post will act as a reference point, and I will update it with links to chapters as we progress. I aim to post every other day.

Let's go through the tags:

•    Diapers and their usage for their intended purpose
•    Breastfeeding
•    Non-consensual mental regression through various means (Including possible drugs, hypnosis, and/or surgery)
•    References to surgery to achieve various nefarious goals
•    Humiliation
•    Giants, aka, Amazons or Bigs
•    Babying of adults (perceived or otherwise)
•    Experimentation on humans
•    Kidnapping
•    Coerced or manipulated actions through possible means of white lies, gas lighting, or incentives
•    Mild language or use of expletives
•    Depictions of death, illness, or handicaps

In addition, expect the following:
Body Swapping, Time Travel*, and Role Reversal.  There are some depictions of sex between adults, not all of which will be comfortable.  There is war, and battles and spy versus spy.  There's lots of fun science fiction, with dimensional travel, genetic engineering, and psychic battles.

You're going to see regressions unlike any you've ever seen before.

They say Kafka laughed at his own works, and so do I when I read my book, so most of all I hope you enjoy the comedy and fun of the book.  I'll try to post a commentary as I go, without spoilers, and try to respond where I can between chapter postings, which I'll aim to do every few days.

Chapter Links:
Prologue: When she wishes, she wishes for less ways to wish for
Chapter 1: Falling down to Earth down from a higher plane
Chapter 2: Grow Up and Blow Away
Chapter 3: Built a mansion in a day.
Plus a bonus early Christmas present: the short piece "Y & Z".
Chapter 4: To be made a lonely child
Chapter 5: I'm flipping out in the magazine neighborhood.
Chapter 6: Watch out cupid, stuck me with a sickness.

Chapter 7: Something brought you back to the kid that you were.

Chapter 8: Caught a glimpse of a normal life. Terrified by the sight

Chapter 9: He wants to start a family. She always thought she would not.

Chapter 10: Faux punk fatigues

Chapter 11: The sky is falling; oh, I wish this all was a lie.

Chapter 12: Take it back to old times. Back when I was still a girl.

Chapter 13: The only way out was to give in.
Chapter 14: Got me a lobotomy for free.

Chapter 15: If you're not alright, now c'mon baby, I'll pick you up and take you where you want.

Chapter 16: We played blind man's bluff 'till they stopped the game.
Chapter 17: Tell me in the morning that you love me, show me.

Chapter 18: Somewhere in the south of France

Chapter 19: It's not easy to erase your blood.
Chapter 20: Now that the truth is just a rule that you can bend.

Chapter 21: Come on, baby, play me something, like "Here Comes the Sun."

Chapter 22: Putting off getting in line, putting off knowing my place.

Chapter 23: If another planet would take me, I'd be glad to go.

Chapter 24: The blonde doll smiling behind us says, “One day, you'll be just like us.”

Chapter 25: Count myself among liars and cheaters.

Chapter 26: Don't go quietly. Combat Baby. Said you would never give up easily.

Edited 16 hours ago by Operational Systems
Added link to Chapter 26

[Operational Systems]

Convergence: Book 1

Part I: Oliver’s World

By Operational Systems

 

Prologue: When she wishes, she wishes for less ways to wish for

 

“So, you submitted a story to a gun website?”

 

There were four men sitting at a short table for lunch.  The small break room was otherwise empty, and as friends and colleagues they made a habit of eating together.  All four were in their early to late thirties, but the tallest and oldest of the bunch, Paul, had directed the question to the youngest, David.  The older man had just gotten his first pair of bifocals and was in the habit of dropping the spectacles down his nose when addressing others so he could look at them from above the rim.

 

David ducked his head in shame, he was already regretting mentioning it.  He sheepishly tried to explain without explaining.  “No, it's... like a fan fiction site, but all original stories and for this one genre.  Themes around the fountain of youth.  Or getting older, but no one writes those stories anymore.  If you remember that old Justice League episode where everyone became a kid again, the stories are all kind of like that.”

 

An auburn-haired gentleman to his left, Gabe, responded quickly, “'I haven't been a kid since I was eight years old!'  That might be the best line in the whole show.  There's a cool fanfic I found that references that episode for how crazy it would be for all the adults on the planet to disappear, even for just a few hours.  It would be hellish.”  Whoops!  Gabe did not mean to expose that he liked to read fan fiction, but if the class is in a sharing mood today.

 

“What's your story about?”  Phil, a lanky man across the table, brought the conversation back to the part that matters.  Phil had been losing his hair and decided to shave it all off, giving a nice clean look.  The other three were still not used to seeing him bald.

 

The youngest was excited though, “OK, so this is it.  There's a husband and wife and they both get a wish, but it's not like peace in the Middle East type of wish, it's something small that has to affect both of them.  Oh, and it's sequential.  He'll get his wish first and then her, so they have plenty of time to figure this out.  He asks her what she is thinking she wants to do, so they can coordinate.  Like, if she wants to travel, he can wish for a plane.  And she says, 'I am going to wish for you to become my baby.  Like a newborn.'”

 

“That sounds like a marriage that has underlying issues, and they should probably try to resolve it through mediation and therapy or if necessary, separation.”  Paul said, pushing his glasses back up.

 

“Look, it's a story.  Anyway, he tries to negotiate with her, what if we get you pregnant, or adopt a child, and so forth and so forth.  He has all these things he wants, but he can't get any of them.  All the things he wants to wish for don't make sense anymore.  Can't wish for a better job, or a cool car, because he's going to become a baby.  Even a hotter wife, more enjoyable sex life, or better health, who cares, he's going to become a baby.  Fame?  Fortune?  Baby.  Knowledge or spiritual enlightenment?  Baby.”

 

“Just wish to cancel her wishes.” Gabe casually tossed out, like the problem was easy to solve.  The youngest man turned his head to the left and his eyes went wide.  David had not thought of that, but he was saved by Phil from across the table.

 

“That's like wishing for more wishes.  You're wishing for negative wishes.  You can't wish to change the numerical number of wishes available in the universe.  That's a rule in Aladdin.”

 

David takes control again, “Uh, yes, anyways.  So, the husband thinks about the problem all through the week at work.  Meanwhile she is buying diapers and toys, and paints one of the rooms blue, and finally Friday comes and he returns home, and she says, 'can you help me assemble the crib?', and as they're doing that, actually having fun, and he finally figures out a wish.  He says, 'I know the one thing a every new mother is scared of, more than anything, a fate so terrible you wouldn't even wish it on me.  It's the fear that something bad will happen to her baby.  Here is my wish, I wish that we will always share a bed together.'  There!  'No crib for me, and you can't make me a baby.'”

 

Phil was excited, “That's crazy!  Don't sleep with your baby, they'll get SIDS.  I know it's like one in a million chance, but every mom imagines the worst, and moms panic about everything.”

 

Paul smiled, “That's a clever work around, both saves the marriage and keeps him out of diapers.  So how does it end?”

 

“She wishes him to become a baby.  See one of the things I want to write about is how different raising children is today compared to how we grew up.  And he's crying saying, 'No I need to sleep in a crib if I'm a baby! What about my wish?'  And as she picks him up, she says, 'Hun, it's twenty-twenty-three, most mommies who breastfeed sleep with their babies.”

 

“Wait is that true?  Dude!  That's hot.  Baby gets to cockblock daddy and has his own mini fridge for nighttime snacking.”  Phil spat out his review with rousing excitement, being a baby sounded fun.

 

“Oh yeah, we are the WEIRD ones.  Western, industrial, etcetera.  Cribs are like this big Freudian conspiracy.  It's good for the father too.  Three sleeping hearts all sync up.”  David left out the part about the studies on hormonal changes.  Loss of testosterone, reduced desire for sex, lower aggression, and more nurturing and protective.  Babies had a superpower; they could transform a man into something more appropriate for their needs – a daddy.

 

Gabe was incredulous, “I still don't get it.  Like, in twenty years is he going to be her son but also her husband still?  Do they get to do it as he gets older?  Does she have to follow him if he wants to go to college?  Or is he a baby forever even when she's like ninety?”

 

Paul reminded him, “It's just a fun story, and it highlights something important.  Kids today have some cool things we didn't have.  But they also have a lot of problems we didn't.  I'm not sure I'd want to go back around again, even if we found a fountain of youth.”

 

The men went around a circle, complaining about the kids these days, “They get so much screen time, but children still don't know how computers work and can barely type.”

 

“Plus, the quantity of parental attention is higher, but the quality of that time is lower.”

 

“You have to go to soccer practice and piano practice, even if you have no talent or interest.  Always running car trip to car trip to car trip.  Probably half the time is in a car these days.”

 

“So much extra studying to get into a good school so you can take on a hundred thousand in debt before you start your first real job at thirty.”

 

“Almost no other children around to play with, and adults keep trying to keep you out of their spaces.”

 

“Can't travel more than a block or your parents get in trouble for giving you too much space.”

 

“At least the TV is better now.”

 

“Oh of course.  And they have the good old stuff too because we put it all on the internet.  Disney Plus alone is better than anything I had with Saturday morning cartoons.”

 

“And food.  Even baby food is better tasting.”  The others looked at Phil on that one.

“At least spanking is on its way out,” David recovered for his friend.

 

With those, Paul and Phil left the table, back to the drudgery of the adult world as lunch was ending.  The new author started to get up when Gabe stopped him.  He double checked to make sure the room was empty.

 

“Not many people post on the archive anymore.  You might be better off putting a copy of your story on the daily” he left a word out, “forums or legit fic if you're looking for feedback.”

 

David's eyes went wide.  All these years neither had mentioned it or hinted at it.

 

Gabe relaxed and slid into a rant, “I always wanted to talk to an author.  Something's been bothering me of late.  The stories have all gotten much darker.  And not like Little Trip dark, just stories where only the bad guys win.  Even Trip wrote stories where good guys won.  Take Bee-eff-Boy,” he caught himself, the young author probably did not know the old names.

 

“Uh, Mind-wiper.  He just put out this great story.   The hero figures everything out and has a chance to win.  But he doesn't win.  It's like Luke Skywalker shoots the torpedoes and he misses, and the Death Star blows up Yavin.  Once or twice is fine, but every time?  Even horror stories are hard to enjoy if you don't believe the protagonists have a chance.”

 

David defended himself, “I think it's OK for the 'bad guys' to win.”

 

“Yes, of course the bad guys have to win sometimes, makes the victories of the good guys better, but all the time?”

 

Oh no!  David had a bunch of stories in him, and his first real feedback was a critique of how they were too depressing.  Stories which had people shrink, swap bodies, mind regression, time travel, and role reversal.  It actually sounded awful when thought about for more than a few seconds.  None of these had a 'good' ending, at best acceptance and submission of how cool diapers and having a mommy were.

 

“Do you really think the wife in my story is the bad guy?”

“Well, that depends.  Are you the type of person who likes wearing diapers?”

[Operational Systems]

Chapter 1: Falling down to Earth down from a higher plane.

 

May 10th, 2023, Templeton, California - Earth

 

“Now, we know how hard it is to speak up when you are being exposed to offenses that make you uncomfortable.  This is a place of understanding, and a place of healing.  If you are feeling in the slightest uncomfortable about what we say, or choice of words, or are not respecting your autonomy, please say something.”

 

It was not the first time he had heard some variation on this in the past couple of days, but what was bothering Benjamin Young was that there were two toddlers in front of him giving this presentation.  One, a lady with a dark complexion and short hair, was wearing a perfect Halloween recreation of a scientist or a doctor's outfit.  White coat over clothes that hid her figure.  The boy, the one who gave him the spiel, was wearing a full business suit.  Even a tiny tie.  A literal boss baby.

 

Why someone would put something that expensive on a toddler did not make sense to Benjamin, but it was a style growing in popularity among teachers and administration at the university to dress up their young in a way that conveyed their parents had both high tastes and money – and control.  Here is a being made for jumping in puddles, and we are confident enough we can train him or her to behave, and we are rich enough to afford to clean or replace expensive clothing if he or she does not.  He knew when he adopted his first little, he too would always be dressing him in his Sunday best, he just was not looking forward to the cost.

 

Oh.

 

It was no longer a possible decision.  Everything he had ever said about the moral complexity of adoption, about not needing another person in his life, all those rationalizations, and from one accidental wrong thought it changed.  He was going to adopt a little.  This tiny person had made him see that.

The woman chided her colleague, “'Speak up?', might as well ask him 'how's the weather up there?'”  She addressed Benjamin directly, looking up towards his eyes, “We're sorry this is something new for us, and we're trying ...”

 

The boy shushed her, “Now hold on, that's a good point, he hasn't said anything.  He's probably afraid we'll punish him if he says the wrong word.  He needs to know we want him to be honest with us, and we want him to be comfortable here.” He turned and looked directly at the man almost twice his height, “'How is the weather up there?'”

 

Benjamin did not know what to say, none of this made sense.

 

The man's speaking was pointed.  “We want you” small pause, “to tell us,” second pause, “if you're uncomfortable.”

 

He went into a rant, “We know your kind is smart.  Right now, on a scale of one to ten, the level of discomfort you're feeling is about a two.  It might feel like a ten to you, but trust us, we can make this much worse for you.  Giving you this stern honest talk, it's about a three.  You do not want to see five.  You really do not want to see ten.  Your kind understands punishment, I suggest you figure this out.  How do you feel when people bring attention to your physical disability – your gigantism, the thing that makes you unable to function in our world?  'Is there enough air up there?'  'Do you feel like you're going to fall over?'  'I heard a man's instrument is the same size as his hands, how big are your hands?'”

 

“You're a naughty child.  I am going to find your parents, both of you, and you'll be spanked.”

 

The lady just shrugged her shoulders and rolled her eyes, but the boss baby was happy.  “Thank you!  Finally!  An honest answer.  Your name is Benjamin right, not Ben, or Benji, actually Benjamin?  Benjamin Young?”

 

He nodded.  Benjamin tried to stand up but instead learned he was strapped into the chair.  These little people had all the power.

 

“Use your words, you are an adult, we expect you to use your words.”

 

Benjamin had a second of heavy breathing, and then answered, “Yes, my name is Benjamin Young.  Where am I?  What is going on here?”

 

The boss baby continued, “I'm sorry I had to do that.  You have a disability; I need you to recognize that.  Two actually, but we'll get to that.  I mean this earnestly, we are trying to be better here, and it was wrong to do that.  Do you agree it is wrong to do that, please let us know you know it was wrong to do that to you.”

 

“Yes, it's” Ben paused, “please don't talk down to me.  What disability, what is going on?  Let me out.”

 

The lady looked questioningly at the boss baby.  He whispered, “OK, I think we can try that.  Be careful.”

 

The woman came over to Benjamin and began removing the straps.  First his arms, then the chest, and then...

 

She was over the knee, her coat flipped up, her buttocks reared to the sky.  An arm came down hard, and instead of the sound of a smack there was something else.  It went through Benjamin's arm, and he could not move the limb anymore.  His mind was telling him to move it, but it was dead.  Then there was the buzz, and a smell like a battery.  Vision wobbled, and his heart felt like it had skipped a couple beats.  Every movement was pain.  Breathing hurt.  The woman got up and walked away from his lap, carefully rubbing her rump.

 

“I hate it when we do that.” She commented, returning to her feet.

 

“It's important to know he's not faking it.  I always hope it'll be one of the enlightened ones, but we have yet to meet one,” the other baby replied.

 

“Next time, you're the one who will be getting your butt spanked,” she spoke returning to her boss.

 

“Fair.  Dang, he was a professor, some fancy liberal college too.  History, I think?  I wanted to believe.  The reports said he graded fairly.”  He spoke it aloud, not expecting an answer.

 

Benjamin's arm was tipped over the side of the chair, and it was dragging his body down.  Everything hurt, he tried to say something.  Boss baby, boss... man?  The man waved at him, and then pointed.

 

“You're in time out!”  He paused to correct himself “I'm sorry that was a wrong choice of words, I'll watch that.  Anyways, you're at a four now.  We're going to try this again in a few hours.  I'm willing to let you out and we'll have a conversation like adults when you're ready to be an adult.”

 

The two left.  The room got dark.  Benjamin had not been this scared in his entire life.

 

 

Two hours later Benjamin was moved from the chair with the assistance of several little people.  His right side still hurt.  He was brought to a toilet that was the wrong size, but he was still able to function.  After relieving himself, he crawled to the sink.  He had to kneel down to look at himself in the mirror. 

 

The reflection was starting to show some stubble.  He patted back his brown hair.  The babies had given him back his glasses and he took a moment to wash them with the tiny faucet.  His dark blue shirt was a wrinkled mess.  He patted it out the best he could.  He stretched the shirt's fabric and put it in his khaki pants.  He had worn this outfit for what felt like a couple of days.  Seeing himself like this, he looked a little like what he remembered of his own father, back when he was his age.  Benjamin looked old.

 

At one hundred and twenty-four inches he considered himself a bit of a manlet, but here the world was not made for people over ten feet tall.  He had to duck his head everywhere.  Even using the toilet required careful timing and precision.  He had missed a few times controlling himself, and a puddle gathered in the corner of the stall.  The stall's door had to be left open to use the toilet, and he barely fit in the cubical.

 

He could tell something was off, like the clothing he wore was heavier.  The subtle signs of time changing were different than expected.  The electrical hum in the lights was wrong.  Even the water … tasted better.

 

He had been told he could have as much privacy and time in the restroom as he wanted.  There were no changing stations.  Instead, there was a wall of urinals, the lighting was calm, and soft sounds played.  The counter tops were faux marble black.  The music sounded like the ocean, it was tinny and distant but still comforting.

 

Benjamin was afraid to leave the bathroom.  For the first time in his life Benjamin Young was afraid of small people.  Which was ridiculous, he just needed to go out there and take charge.  They would all be in line under him shortly, just needed to stand tall.

 

Kinda hard to stand ten feet tall when the ceilings top out at nine-feet six-inches.  He would make it work.  His posture was mostly straight except for his head.  He walked around the bathroom corner and was stomach to face with the boss baby.

 

“Whoops!  Sorry!  I should have given you a bit more space.” the small man carefully stepped out of the way.  Benjamin's hand gently touched the top of his captor's hair as he withdrew.  The boy smiled for a second and then shook his head.

 

He looked up at Benjamin, and continued, “Being here, it must be extremely uncomfortable.  Maybe a two, even a three, I am trying to get you back to a one.  So, this is my first promise, what happens in a restroom is entirely you.  You will not be watched.  If you need ten minutes, twenty minutes, two hours, you take as long as you need to make yourself relaxed and ready for the world.  If there is anything you need, we will bring it to you.  No questions.  No judgments.”

 

He pointed down the hall, “We are going to go for a walk.  I want to find some place where we can just quietly discuss what has happened to you.  We would like to work with you, and going outside might help clear your head a bit.”

 

“You're a strange little man.  Who are you?”  Benjamin hated himself right there.  Little man.  It was what he had used when he had dressed down that student who had turned in the ...

 

“Yes, proper introductions.  I am Oliver Swift.  I'm the manager of this project.  It's not the most impressive thing, but we have a small budget, a small team, and we have done some great work.  Come, we'll go for a walk outside.  I think you'll like the fresh air.”  Oliver pointed to the double doors down the hall.  Benjamin followed as Oliver led him out.  Oliver swiped a key card near a reader, and the doors unlocked.  He pushed one door, went through, and held it open for Benjamin, who had to duck and leave the building sideways one limb at a time.

 

The air had a clean wetness.  Distant thunder could be heard, and while the air was hot, a moist breeze gave it a relaxing chill.  The clouds were gray to black on one side, but to Benjamin's left the sun found a way through overcast.  Crepuscular rays had a mix of harshness and beauty against the dark sky.  Benjamin forced himself to look at the sun.  It hurt, but just a second of looking was enough to see it was wrong.

 

“This isn't my world.” Benjamin barely spoke it, a whisper from a giant.

 

Oliver confirmed his disappointment, “No, it's not your world.  I am deeply sorry we took you here without your permission.”

 

“I need to get back, I was grading finals, you can't just go to other worlds and take people.”  Benjamin was not in a position to be angry; it was a statement of desire.

 

“Benjamin, I can't have you go back until we fix what is wrong with you.”  He pointed to the sidewalk, “Please, keep to the sidewalk, I got new shoes recently.”  Oliver directed attention to his new loafers and they both saw it.  The left shoe was untied.  “I might need to do something about the laces though.”  He knelt down and quickly fixed the shoe.  Benjamin watched him kneel over, he was hoping he would see the outline of a diaper, any sign that he was still back home.  Oliver stood back up, shook the shoe, and laughed, “Sorry about that, yes, we can go around the courtyard, but we are not prepared to let you out into the real world.  You're still a danger to others.”

 

“I want to go back.”

 

“Yes, you do big guy,” Oliver flinched, but then rolled with it, “Don't worry, we have a crack team for worlds like yours.  Robot suits filled with tiny people.  Impersonating you as we speak.  They can go for years without people noticing.”

 

Benjamin paused his walking and stared at the silly little man.  He had just told him a joke... right?  Made up a story?  Best to give no response.

 

Oliver had waited a moment, as if he had expected Benjamin to laugh.  “We actually just sent out a polite e-mail saying you had a crisis of faith, that you had been pushing the normal sized people too hard because you were hoping one would crack and you would take him or her home to be your new friend, and none of them did.  You were sending out corrected grades reflecting the real quality of the work, and you felt ashamed that you put your personal needs above your duties and your academic integrity.  You then said you would not be returning until you had worked through your issues.”

 

Oliver added, “By the way, for future reference anytime you walk away from your computer, you should lock it.  No hacking required there.”  They had been walking for a bit now, so Oliver pointed to a bench.  A thunder rumble could be heard, but they could sit for a few minutes before they would need to head back.

 

Their journey had given Benjamin enough time to view the surrounding buildings.  It was not quite industrial and not quite office space, some sort of hybrid approach in architecture.  The fences and lights were tall, even for him, chain links going up to twenty feet.  Cameras were everywhere.  It reminded Benjamin of the schools used by littles, the ones he used to drive past when he was a graduate student.  He had to go through the 'bad part' of town to get to university back then.  When Oliver sat down on the bench Benjamin just stood leaning against a standing light.  It held his weight.

 

“I … I just want to go back.  Look, I won't tell anyone, I'll even honor the e-mail.  I think you're right.”

Oliver was not having that.  “You remember Collins.  I read a copy of your e-mails.  How you went from calling him brilliant - despite being a normal sized person.  And more recently you accused him of using a helper to write an essay.  It's a good thing he had camera footage of himself writing it.  Plus, the drafts are saved automatically.  Every sentence he wrote saved to the cloud.”

 

“I'm sorry... I just, I wanted...”  Ben's face started to crunch up.  “I want to go home.”

 

“Hey, hey, hey, it's OK.  It's OK.  We're trying to make you comfortable, that was wrong of me to bring it up. This is an important issue for us, we... we need to know what's going on in there.”  He tapped his head.  “Nothing about your world makes sense, and we're hoping if we have someone whose an expert talk to us, maybe we can work through these issues, maybe... maybe even find a way to make you normal.”

 

“I don't want to be tiny.”  Well, at least they agreed, Oliver was the normal one.

 

Oliver did that chuckle laugh Benjamin liked so much before.  “I'm sorry, no your size isn't the issue.  In fact, given your size, you're a remarkably peaceful people.  You're excellent cooks.  A few other talents we appreciate.  You had the potential to be the Brobdingnag's of the multiverse.  Instead, you're actually the most odious people we have ever met.  The entire multiverse is afraid of you, including us.  We're not afraid of you because you're big, but because you are disturbing the order of things.”

 

Benjamin did not want to be judged for the problems of his society.  “Just let me go back.  I promise to respect the littles from now on, and I won't adopt one.”

 

“First off, the term is normal sized people.  Have you even taken a census?  Do you even know they outnumber you now?  Never mind, we'll get to that in a bit when you're ready for that.  Your problem is not that you are bigger or stronger.  It's that you think that gives you the right to do what you want.  More importantly, you have a condition that makes you see other humans, adults with fully actualized lives, as children.  Also, on my world we like to see children as people too, and so you're doing something worse than just making them children.  It's like slavery.  It's like rape.  It's like all the worst things in our history combined.”

 

“No.  You're wrong.  They have a real condition the...” Benjamin wanted to still win here, “the normals as you call them, they start degenerating and they need us to protect them from themselves.  They're so happy.  Like, symbiosis.  A shark and a remora.  Aphids and ants.  We work together, we were meant to be together.”

 

“Look, you and I, we are not from the same world, and I have no idea how your species got dimensional travel, but you know enough to know, we don't share the same history or biology, we're completely different, and yet in your mind I'm a three-year-old boy.  Study the issue like you would anything else you were trained to study.  Close your eyes and just think about the problem.”

Benjamin closed his eyes.  His heart was racing.  His breathing intensified.

 

“Slow,” Oliver spoke softly.

 

He could just hear the distant thunder, feel the wet air coming in from the East.  His urges had gotten worse.  He had written that e-mail accusing Collins.  He had wanted to adopt and hoped he could ...

 

“Keep your eyes closed.  You don't know much about interdimensional travel, it's something very new to you.  I have visited a dozen worlds, including your own, and my people have traveled to hundreds of thousands.  Yours is the only one with people outside the distribution of height while keeping a near normal society for tech and culture.”  Oliver laid out the scale of the problem.

 

This was scaring him.  “There's something wrong with me.  Please, just let me go back to Amazonia.”

 

“Our records are not that good for a world so far off of prime line, but we even have some evidence the planet was called Blefuscu before you Amazons came and ruined everything.”

 

“No that's not true,” Benjamin denied.

 

Oliver continued the instruction, “Please, keep your eyes closed, just a little longer.  You're right, we're not sure, it's just what we think happened.  We suspect you're a parasite species, moving from host world to host world and feeding off humans.  Some sort of evolutionary meta-adaption of the multiverse we need to fight against.”

 

Benjamin's voice raised, “No we were fine, we were happy, then the littles came to us, and they needed us.  They came on their tiny boats, and they were so unhappy, and they needed help.  Their island was falling into the ocean.”

 

Oliver was unprepared for that.  The littles … the normal people had invaded Amazonia?  Mass hypnosis, the advanced technology, it was starting to come together.  Illegal uplift.  Possibly some genetic manipulation, and planetary wide social engineering, but why?

 

“I'm sorry I brought you there, you are correct, I didn't mean to distress you.  Here.  This is a present.  Keep your eyes closed.  This is just something nice I'm doing for you.  You need the help.”  Oliver took a deep breath.

 

“You're back at your university again.  All your colleagues are so happy for you.  Your time away has given them a newfound respect and understanding, and your e-mail was extremely brave.  Everyone agrees you were right.  Here comes the man whose has been helping fill in for you while you're gone.  Who is it?  Who is the new teacher?”

 

“Collins.  It's Collins.”  Benjamin guessed hopefully.

 

“He comes up to you and gives you a hug, he's so glad to see you.  He says he understood why you pushed him so hard for this, to prepare for the real challenge of working here.  Ever since he met you, he just wanted to be like you, and this is the moment he's been waiting for, a chance to finally work with the man he has always respected and admired.”

 

“I... what's going on.”  Things were not right in the dream.  Benjamin could not open his eyes.  Everything was stretched.

 

“Just a happy memory, a possibility of what could have been.  Do you see it yet?”  Oliver taunted.

 

Benjamin stumbled, “He's... he's... we're the same height.  Collins is big now!”

“No try again.”  The doors were huge.  The hallways were cavernous.  The students were giants.  His colleagues all congratulated him on making the transition, of being so brave.

 

“I... think I need...” Benjamin did not like this.

 

“Collins isn't big, you're normal sized now!” Oliver emphasized at a volume just below a yell.

Benjamin's eyes open, there is a crack of lightning and a few seconds later thunder.  He jumps in fright.  He is actually scared of the thunder!  The fences are forty feet tall.  The bench is eight feet tall.  Mr. Oliver had to be... God he is so old.  Mr. Swift is older than him.  He had a slight gray in the hair.  His tie was the exact same one the vice rector would wear.

 

“Sit for a second, right here.”  Oliver pat the bench.  Benjamin reluctantly sat onto it.  Oliver was taller than him now.  His heavy breath shook, this had not been his worst fear before today, because he had never imagined it was possible.

 

Oliver's volume returned to a soft conversational level, “We could do this by the way, make you small like this.  One pill makes you big, one pill makes you small.  Your world has some pretty impressive tech given the fact that literally half of your economy is making baby toys.  There's hypnosis, and cell rejuvenation, and that dimensional travel is a whole other box that makes no sense at all.  Is it also true you have nanotech?  That's illegal on most worlds.”

“What... no, that's just... I'm sorry. I haven't been this small since.”  Benjamin looked at his arms and legs.  He was still an adult; he was not a child.  He was talking with an adult, an equal.  This was the most normal thing he did every day; it was everything else in the world that was wrong.

 

“I'm going to bring your discomfort on this to about a six, maybe a seven, and I'm really sorry, you seem like you would have been a great ally.  You remember what happened to Collins right?  Ben, go ahead and remember.”

 

The student had not actually made the recording.  There were no draft edits.  Collins had chosen a different path.

 

“I just wanted him to be my … be in my life forever.  To always be there and protect him and love him and have him love me back.”  He brought his hands to his face.  First a sniffle, then an eye twitch.  It was too much.  The sun was wrong.  It hurt to look at things.  The distant rain was getting wetness in his face.  He just wanted to go home.  He did not want to be himself.

 

“Hey, hey, it's OK.  I'm sorry.  We just need you to understand why we are doing this.  You want to be better, right?  We can't bring back Collins, but we can try to make it, so you do not want to hurt anyone like that again.  Would you like to work with us to be better?”

 

“Yes, I …  I have a problem.  Oh!  We all have a problem.  We're all sick.  You made me a normal and I'm … I can't go back.  They'll...” Benjamin was aware he was crying now “they'll do it to me, even though I was big, they'll do it to me.”

Oliver took no enjoyment in taunting him with this, “And what will they do to a man who cries?”

 

“We were supposed to help them!”  Benjamin panted, unable to hold his emotions in.  His face was going red.

 

Oliver felt his stomach turn, it would be easier if the stories had happy endings, but in the diaper dimension they almost never did.  “Do you understand what it means to be one of us now, to be normal, to live with fear of something badder and meaner coming along and ruining your day?”

 

“What is this place?”

 

“The Amazons are only starting to put together a basic map of the multiverse.  But if you could run into a half dozen worlds just slightly less advanced than yours, wouldn't that mean in an infinite multiverse there was some UR-Earth.  A big dog on top, or even a council of planets running the show in secret?”

 

There had been speculation, but the consensus had been that if there was a more advanced world, the people there would have to be twice as big.  Some thought there could be a world with people four times as big and maybe even eight times.  Effort had been spent to calculate the tallest world possible.  There were physical limits set by oxygen and gravity.  Amazonia was probably near the top.

 

There was a supposition that, somewhere, in the multiverse, there was another world with giants, and if you traveled far enough, those taller men and women might have an opinion on the maturity of a race of smaller people who still insisted on playing with baby dolls.

 

Amazonian scientists made predictions of what sort of technological marvels could be found on such a world.  Obviously, it would far surpass Amazonia.  A world where giants had landed on the Moon and rockets had traveled to the edge of the Solar System.  Where the atom was split for its energy.  Worlds where the computers were so advanced, they could even beat grandmasters at chess or predict the weather two weeks out.  It was just ridiculous science fiction.  Everyone knew the weather was completely unpredictable more than even a couple of days out.

 

Still, it was a scary thought.  How tall would a man have to be to lift another man to the moon?  Twenty feet?  Thirty?  The moon was pretty far away.  How strong would he have to be to rip open the proton?  Imagine that power!  Now imagine if the people who had that knowledge were also mean.  A race that fought every day for dominance and power.  A people so aggressive, their wars killed hundreds of millions every century.

 

Just the possibility was almost enough to shut down the dimensional travel project.  Better to hide than run into the super giants.  But of the half dozen worlds they visited, even the tallest person was smaller than the smallest adult Amazon.  Plenty of evidence to dismiss this as crank theories of over imaginative nerds.  Amazonia was surely the first, the biggest, and the best.  That is when the harvest began, because who would stop the Amazons?

 

“We're part of a team of worlds.  It's like the United Nations.”  The analogy missed.  Amazonia never had a Second World War.  Oliver continued without explaining, “There's an alliance of Earths and that's all you need to know.  For the past couple centuries, we've been quietly manipulating things on other worlds we visit.  Small suggestions to changes to the textbook Standard Model that led to wrong paths.  'Multiverse' theories of quantum mechanics that suggest the existence of other worlds but must be impossible to reach.  Even some cultural suggestions.  Sometimes we'll introduce movies, comics, or Tee Vee shows, just to put out the idea exploring the multiverse is a bad idea.”

 

Such a silly proposition.  'What if' the other universes are just like us, but are the evil version of us?  An Earth Two if you will.  As if any world that invented fascism and slavery would have an eviler version of itself.

 

Benjamin was shaking.  He had never been prepared to deal with something bigger, stronger, and deadlier before.  Amazons were always on top.  Now he was just a regular guy, and he just could not handle it.  This little, who was an inch taller him and two years older, who he first met as a boss baby - he had shown him that all their worst fears were wrong.  It was not bigger people to be afraid of.  It was just running into someone that understood how to deal with a bully.  You do not have to be twenty feet tall to stand up to a bully.

 

“Ben, I'm sorry, what I just did there, making you feel smaller than yourself.  We're just making you realize where you actually landed in the order of the universe.  And I feel really bad for dredging up that memory, you were at a breaking point when we took you, and we thought maybe we could help each other.  You want that right?  To help us?”

 

Benjamin wiped his nose on his sleeve, “How can I help you?  I'm not bigger anymore.  You made me small.  Only big people can do things.”

 

Oliver corrected him, “Now this is just hypnosis, nothing permanent, it's not something we like to do but it seems to have helped with giving you a bit of perspective.  If you promise to cooperate, I can make you big again.”

 

Ben nodded, and then remembered from earlier.  He was an adult, he had to use his words, “I would like that.  I can help, I know things.”

 

“Stand up Benjamin and close your eyes,” Oliver commanded.

 

Benjamin did as instructed.  He was lost.  He could hear the rain starting to approach.  The wind was picking up, and thunder was only a few miles off.  The sounds were deeper.  He felt a slight pulling at his hand.

 

“Daddy look at your pants.  It looks like you wet yourself.  Daddy wet himself.”

 

He looked down, and yes, he must have sat in water.  His pants were soaked.

 

“Collins that's inappropriate language for the park.”  Benjamin turned to chastise the youth whose hand he was holding, but it was not Collins.  It was Oliver.  The young man turned, and he smiled and looked up into Benjamin's face.  The older fellow was gone.  This was just a little.  Not a toddler, not a boy, a normal sized person.  He was an adult, like him, only smaller.

 

“Are you... at about a one yet?  I know I promised to try to make you feel back at a one, I know it was a difficult journey.”

 

Benjamin smiled, he was big again, and his boy had helped him understand something important – what it felt like to be small.  “Oliver.  Mr. Swift.”  Be tall.  “Do you mind holding my hand back to the facility, I am not certain I can find the way.”

 

Oliver put his hand into Benjamin's, and the small man let the giant pull him the whole way back.  Benjamin made sure to step in a way that avoided the puddles.  After all, his boy had brand new shoes, and he did not want them to get ruined.

[FateVoid]

I’m going to be honest, I’ve never read the original story. So I’m very confused right now. If it’s not a problem can I get a summary on information I probably should know?

[Guilend]

Basically it’s a diaper dimension story. It follows that genre, but it touches on body swapping and a few other things that OS mentioned, a bit more than the original Diaper Dimension story that PPP wrote that started this genre. 
 

im going to read it again as OS posts it here. It is a tad confusing to me, but things like body swapping and showing the actual multiverse usually confuses me anyways. I do really like a lot of the aspects and concepts that OS will show in this story. I’m kind of hoping a few end up in other DD stories and almost become part of the DD genre itself like so many others. 

[Operational Systems]

4 hours ago, FateVoid said:

I’m going to be honest, I’ve never read the original story. So I’m very confused right now. If it’s not a problem can I get a summary on information I probably should know?

The original story is kind of a mess and confusing.  But basically, Alisa (Alice), is an ABDL who also is a journalist at the local newspaper.  She interviews Dr. Bremer who has a new device that lets you explore any fantasy setting you desire, by plucking it out of the multiverse.  You just put the hat on and think about world, like wizard of Oz, and a door opens and sends you there.

It's implied in the first few chapters that by doing this she has swapped bodies with her alternate self in this dimension.  This is a problem because rather than being a low-time journalist, she's instead a somewhat famous gumshoe reporter who has investigated a local school for possible abuse, and she's completely unprepared to survive in this weird dimension.  She ends up getting captured into a robot nursery, exposed to hypnotic commands through Naomi and Oliver, and basically has all her kinks pushed to 11.  Through this process she intersects with Emily, and this world's Dr. Bremer.

Emily is a former scientist who has been regressed into a younger body, and she is mean to Alice, forcing her to do school tasks and tests.  Eventually Alice escapes this encounter, but ends up back here again as a baby sitter for Emily, who has been further regressed to a three year old.  Emily steals her body using a wand like device, and then tricks Dr. Bremer into sending her back to her Alice's home dimension.  It turns out Dr. Bremer has been using Emily's tech to come up with an idea to invade other dimensions and turn high level people into babies, and conquer their planets / make a ton of money.  She asks Alice in Emily's body to go and get a device from another evil Amazon and bring it back here, and if she does, she'll let Emily go.
Then Alice runs back into her Alternate self (who is now brainwashed by the school with hypnotic commands) to coordinate to stop a different amazon who has a shrinking device.

They return the device and (Save Dr. Bremer's twin sister) to Dr. Bremer and after some weird fight scene, Alice is able to escape back to her home dimension into her original body.  There she discovers between Emily and being absent this has kind of ruined her life, so she gets a new job as an anchor for a news network.  Things go off the rails from here, as Alice is scarred from her dimensional travel and needs diapers now.  It turns out her new reporter job is just a cover for a weird Truman show, which is all part of a plan to conquer Earth, and they've been using footage of Alice to create hypnotic commercials and sell their new fancy diapers.  A robotic nanny shows up and Alice is sad, wondering if there's another 'her' out there who might be willing to swap with her again, and let her just go back to being a normal person.

 

It's a very difficult to read book, because it involves lots of people who are copies of each other talking to alternate versions of themselves, and it's difficult to keep track of who is who.  Speaking of which I do want to make a list of names from the book, just so people can keep track of these things.

Edit: I thought I would add, you don't need to know any of this to appreciate convergence.  There are a handful of references to the original work though throughout the book, along with references to other authors in the genre.

Edited December 22, 2024 by Operational Systems
added sentence.

[Personalias]

Love the opening and I like the trope twists! Incredibly bold choice and it works for me!

[codsterc10@msn.com]

I like it so far. I look forward to reading more to come 

[SanguineReader]

I love that intro, so many great call backs and references though younger readers might miss them. I loved chapter 1, the cognitive disconnect from Ben is great. so many role reversals from the start. Like you think you get whats happening but then it gets flipped on its head. "How do you feel when people bring attention to your physical disability – your gigantism, the thing that makes you unable to function in our world?" that had me laughing. Refreshing for the smaller people to have some power for a change. Anyway, Look forward to the next chapter. and i cant wait to read about Grace again, hehe.

 

[Operational Systems]

Chapter 2: Grow Up and Blow Away

 

May 10th, 2023, Templeton, California - Earth

 

The two had moved to a cafeteria, a space which had higher ceilings than the rest of the facility, and a table had been bolted to the ground with a large quilt covering it.  Benjamin could try to sit on it like a bench.

 

Oliver was explaining the state of the multiverse.  “A hundred thousand worlds are living in peace, and somewhere, way out of distribution, comes these plucky new guys, and they start stealing people and turning them into babies.  Even if you just left yourselves to the nearest neighbors, the ones who are slightly below you in technology, they would eventually wise up and strike back.  You giants, despite being horrible at the individual level, at a societal level are rather tame.  Technically no death penalty, but I won't give you points for that.  You have some armies, but for the most part we can't find any evidence of wars.  It's not even clear your armies know the basics of actual fighting and logistics, or if they're just fancy security guys who swoop in when there's a flood or an earthquake.”

 

Benjamin had never really thought of what the point of their armies where, or what the taxes were going towards.  It sounded like the man was hinting to some ecological niche that was invisible.  This vestigial organ was kept around for an unknown reason, and Benjamin was uncomfortable imagining what an army should actually be doing.

 

“The technical term is a 'canon event', but I always thought that was a stupid name.  Ninety percent of Earths for example will have something like a World War Two.  It's not always the same players, or the same winners.  It's not always at the same time or length.  There's not even always a World War One.  For some reason, you shrink the Earth enough with technology and communications, the arc of history says we gotta have a big ideological conflict right at the dawn of the atomic age.  I've seen a lot of variations on this, they're all bad, and humans get past it.”

 

“But there are less common timelines.  Like most worlds don't have The Beatles.  Most worlds do have a Shakespeare or something close.  It's an example of convergence, like a ball rolling in a valley it finds the lowest points, or like why everything is a crab in nature.  About ... fifteen percent of worlds have something called Firefly.  Are you aware of Firefly?”

 

Benjamin was sitting nicely, he had been given a water jug, and he was nursing it carefully between his thighs.  “Like the insect?”

 

Oliver tried to answer, “Well, yes, that's another thing, most animals are similar, but some are different.  Same niches, just with some randomness.  Here though, Firefly refers to a specific science fiction show from the turn of the twenty first century.  I looked into this, because I'm fascinated by convergences, such as in people or media.  Firefly was, at the time at least, unique in that it was made like a television western, but just had that extra spice on top of science fiction.  It should have been hugely successful because westerns are cheap, sci-fi is great, and it had a good spin.”

 

Benjamin disappointed him, “I actually don't watch a ton of television.  In fact, not to be rude, but it's associated with something young children do, and adults actively go out of their way to avoid it.  It's not a taboo, but it's seen as immature.  Same for science fiction, us 'bigs' actually are not that interested in sci-fi.”

 

That stopped Oliver, “I hadn't thought of that.  Why wouldn't you be interested in space travel or going under the ocean?”

 

“We can't go.”  Benjamin did not sound upset; it was just stated as a matter of fact.  He was not interested.

 

“Oh... right, your size, space travel is for smaller men.”  Oliver let him think about that for a second before continuing.

 

“Anyway, I did a survey once and the math comes to about fifteen thousand Earths have this television show is all you need to know.  On my world it was aired by a network that had no idea what to do with it, aired the shows out of order, gave no marketing support or consistent time slot, and the whole thing was canceled after one season.  My planet at least got a movie out of it, which puts us in a fairly small and rare percentage.  I liked watching it and wanted to imagine what could have been.”

 

Oliver starts pacing a bit moving his hands up and down, “So, we have fifteen thousand worlds, surely one of them has a Firefly season two.  Just one!  I've put out the word, some polite feelers, just asking if anyone has ever seen a sequel to this show.  Occasionally we indulge in that.  I've heard a version of Beethoven's tenth, I've seen a van Gogh from the twentieth century.  Of a hundred thousand worlds, not one, not a single one, has Firefly season two.”

 

He then moves to a table, picks up a small DVD case, and goes over to Benjamin.  He waves it up at the man like he wants him to help him open it.  “What the hell is this?”

 

Benjamin cups the small case.  He can barely make out the title, “Firefly, the complete second season.  Contains (3) DVDs plus bonus material.”

 

“I have no idea what this is.  I mean obviously it’s a Dee-Vee-Dee of a Tee-Vee show, but.”  There was not anything else for Benjamin to say.

 

Oliver was almost yelling, “I got this from your world!  I also checked!  You do not have a Firefly season one.  How do you have Firefly season two?  Out of a hundred thousand worlds, yours is the one that has this.  But that's not the part that scares me.  Open it.”

 

Benjamin's large hands carefully flick the DVD case open.  Carefully arranged tiny plastic discs reflected the ceiling lights into his face.

 

“Twelve Centimeters!  Let's run this down in a few different ways.  First, your planet does not have metric.”

 

Benjamin scoffed, “No, hold on.  It exists, it's just only used in a couple places.  We've tried to encourage them to adopt international standards, but they're reluctant to let go of what they like.”

 

“OK fair, I take that back.  Two, why does a race of giants have a media preservation method that requires delicate control by tiny hands?”

 

Benjamin smiled; never ask a question in an interview you did not actually know the answer to.  “That is easy.  The videos aren't for the adults, they're for the little ones.  The smallest babies like to just look at the disc and imagine they're watching it as the pretty colors swirl.  Those a little older like to be helpers, take the disc out and put it in for the bigs.”  He smiled at that.  It is good for littles to help bigs.

 

“It's also a security precaution.  If something goes wrong, we want the littles to go... watch some television and wait for instructions.  There are actually some pretty fancy tools we put into the players to pick up unusual watching habits that may indicate a problem that needs social services or the police to investigate.”  This was easier than dealing with some students he had advised on their papers.  The small one was reaching pretty hard to say nothing made sense, when there were perfectly reasonable explanations.

 

Oliver shook his head, “Yep.  That's kind of messed up, but I thought that was where you'd go.  Final question.  The size of a 'Dee Vee Dee', twelve centimeters, is chosen to match the 'Cee Dee-Rom' drive that preceded it, so 'Dee Vee Dee' drives are backwards compatible with 'Cee Dee-Roms'.  Do you know why a 'Cee Dee-Rom' is twelve Centimeters?  Not eleven point five.  Not twelve point five.”

 

Benjamin absolutely did not know.  He shrugged and shook his shoulder.  Who cares?

 

“It's because the 'Cee Dee-Rom' is designed to store exactly seventy-four minutes of audio data, sufficient for the length of Beethoven's Ninth Sympathy from a recording of a specific nineteen fifty-one performance.  Your world doesn't have Beethoven, and in most worlds that don't, the size of the disc is one hundred fifteen millimeters.  Even if you had Beethoven, the odds of you also having that specific performance that led to the decision are extremely low.  Nearly every single digital video disc in the multiverse, on the rare planets it does exist, is under twelve centimeters.  Yours is the first I found that is the same size as ours!  So, I ask you, what is going on here?”

 

Why was he being grilled here?  Benjamin did not know these things.  There were historians who specialized in entertainment, technology, and media, he just was not one of them. “Look I'm not an expert on this kind of thing.  I mostly translate historical documents and write about the findings.  And teach or advise or go to conferences.  I might be a historian of 'media', but typically I deal with stuff much older and are book or letter based.  You'd need a different person to figure this one out.  I'm sure there is a sensible explanation.”

 

Oliver was in his groove, “Let me give my theory.  I think your world is some sort of trap.  The multi-verse right now is pretty stable, thanks to us by the way, but it's not always been good.  We've had some mean enemies in the past, and we have some rules we like to follow.  Your world is some kind of test, or a honey pot, trying to get us to become unbalanced.  Make us make a move.  Why?  That's what I need to find out.”

 

Plus, he had to know, “Off hand, any idea what would happen if someone like me watched this?”

 

Benjamin sighed, “Most Tee Vee is watched by young people.  If it were something we made, it probably would make you wet the bed.  I would discourage you from watching it unless you want to end up in diapers.”  He handed back the case to Oliver, who, like handling a weapon, carefully put it on another table.

 

The small person turned and addressed him, “Your world has almost no canon events, you're very weird, and yet you're curiously very close to some of the core worlds.  There's something extremely artificial going on here, and I think it's to draw our attention, make us curious, and for that reason I'm hesitant.  You're a historian right, like actual history.  What was the most important event of the last century?”

 

Benjamin answered, “The arrival of the littles.  Unification day.”

 

“Why did they come to you?”

 

“Something had gone wrong on their home island, some plague or volcano.” Benjamin seemed unsure.

 

That drew Oliver's attention, “Wait!  Wait!  Hold on, you're a historian, don't be vague about this.  Why don't you know the exact details?”

 

Benjamin was concerned.  Why did he not know the exact reason for their arrival?  A three-year-old had just pointed out a contradiction.  The DVD he could dismiss as an overactive imagination of a child, but this, his brain had a block.  The knowledge should be there, but he could not get it.  He knew he would have studied this, after all he was an expert on pre-contact Lilliputian society.

 

“I'm not very comfortable right now, something is wrong.  Did you do something to me?”

 

Oliver's response was kind and soft, “Remember in the park, the hypnosis, does it feel a bit like that?”

 

“Stronger, much stronger.  Like I'm...”

 

Oliver led him, “Like you're trying to undo a zipper but it's stuck.  We know a bit about how to fight hypnosis.  Here, let me try to help you, slowly move your thoughts one step at a time, you did a study on the island's population dynamics before and after contact.  What was happening in the twenty years before?”

 

“Their population was growing rapidly.  Too rapidly, they were bumping up against the limits of their agricultural and fishing potential.  They had been for centuries, they always pushed through.” Ben started his explanation.

 

“So, you might say they were thriving?” Oliver offered another interpretation.

 

“Their civilization was incredible.  Did you know they had a road network that covered the whole island, even tunnels that went through the mountains?  They had invented not one but two forms of writing.  One for the common class and one for the elite.  We've only recently had some success with translating the big boy language.”

 

Oliver was not sure what that meant, “Big boy?”

 

Ben went further, “It's just a colloquial term in the department, the 'high' language is sophisticated.  They used it for laws, and the deep understandings of medicine and nature, it's difficult to read.  Even a boring court case or a legal matter is written like poetry.  The littles sometimes pretend they are dumb, but I'm not so sure.”

“You're a historian, but your world's history is not normal, and you have nothing to compare with here.  I'm going to cheat and let you know what happens on a hundred thousand other worlds.  The invention of writing happens over and over among humans, but it is still extremely rare.  Usually only happens about a half dozen times in a planet's history.  Even when a new written language is created that is entirely dependent upon contact with another group, it's an impressive achievement.”

 

“Now, remote island nations can discover writing, it happened at least once on my world.  But what would be more impressive is if it had been discovered by a group of humans that could only be adults for like twenty years before they reverted back to babies.”

 

The tall man did not like where this was going.  He could see something was wrong.  The world was falling apart.  What if maturosis was not real?  What if the littles had wanted them to be parents for some other reason?  What if Collins had wanted him... no.

 

Oliver finished, “Two species evolve, independently, humanoids, and both invent writing, and civilization, and all that, and they never come into contact until the atomic age, and yet somehow they have intense biological attachments and dependency upon each other.”

 

“No that's.  Wait,” Benjamin had never heard the term used that way, “evolve?”

 

“Evolution.  Like the origin of your species.  Where did the Amazons come from?”

 

“Well, the Bible says that there was a garden.” Oliver waived him to stop.

“The discovery of evolution is a canon event on ninety-nine percent of worlds before they reach the twenty first century.  There is so much about biology that does not make sense without evolution.  Wow!”  He was so shocked he said it again, louder.  “Wow...  I'm sorry, that might actually be too much for you right now I'm not going to push it further.  I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable; we're just trying to find truths and sometimes that means exploring things that are hard for people to deal with.”

 

Oliver held up the DVD case, flipped it open and looked at the shiny reflection, it was smoothing to look at the rainbows.  He wanted to watch this.  “Just give him enough to know how he can help you,” he thought, and closed the case, and put it on a table.

 

“OK, you're a historian, you'll like this.  History is something that has a scientific process.  It's like a dialect where the contradictions at one part are set up to be overcome by the next set of events.  It's like”, Oliver felt fine using the analogy, “growing up?  It's a process.  The single most important event, the puberty of most worlds, is World War Two.  Everything builds to it, and everything moves from it.  Good guys versus bad guys.  Sort of.”

 

He let it linger on the correction, then continued, “I'm not going to say there weren't shades of gray, or deals with devils, but often it's the most black and white thing a world will ever achieve.  On my world the good guys won.  In fact, on all of the council worlds, the good guys won.  We have lots of disagreements on the best way to run our own slice of the universe, so we made a pact.  We're gonna' let worlds build and be themselves and make it or break it, except for this one thing, this is the one thing we're allowed to interfere with.”

 

He started to pace a bit, just to add emphasis.  “Look it's a big multiverse, the good guys don't always need the help, but we find subtle ways to help if we think they need it.  If we find a world where the bad guys won, we try to do something to undo the damage.”

 

“Your world doesn't have the good guys or the bad guys, it's something worse.  Of the council planets, some of us have the relevant historical background to understand what's happening.  Your little corner of the multiverse reminds us of how the big nations here treated our Africa a few centuries ago.  The good guys in our timeline tried to do something about that too.  There's a lot of pressure on my world that we should do something, because we see your actions as just as bad.”

 

Oliver scratched his head, and explained, “The problem is it's … it's like game theory.”

Benjamin just shook his head.

 

“Really, that too?”  Oliver takes a second then continues, “it's like, politics and trade, I'm not sure how to compare it.  The important thing is that if we say it's OK to act here, then the others might feel it's OK for them to act on the issues they care about.  Even ones who don't care might still think they need to build up arms in case we decide to look too closely at what's happening in their neck of the woods.  We have a stable dynamic, and then you show up, and I don't think that's a coincidence.”

 

And now the reveal, “It's a very big multiverse, and not all planets develop at the same pace, and we don't always find the ones that needed our help before the bad guys win.  This is where the timelines diverge, no more canon events.  Instead, there's a new canon.  Usually it is extremely unstable, the planet is highly prone to nuking itself, but sometimes all the balls fall in the right place, and jackpot.”

 

“We call those survivors the Nietzscheans.  To be honest the name comes from a television show but there was a philosopher who talked about supermen, and we'll say it was from him.  They've pushed human experimentation and augmentation and the science of societies to pure limits without morality.  The Nietzscheans are the worst people in the multiverse, worse than you.  I've met them, I've even fought them, and right now they're licking their wounds and hiding.  We gave them a sound beating like any other schoolyard bully deserves.”

 

“It is eSs - eNn Risk, after steppe nomads like Genghis Khan or the Huns.  These nomads of the multiverse are not a big deal, as they're isolated and prone to self-destruction.  Every two hundred, three hundred years, they get their act together, form a big confederation and give us the fight our lives.”

 

Benjamin chided, “You'd think with all your technology and resources you'd be better prepared.”

 

Oliver corrected, “No, you don't understand, that just makes it worse.  They're hiding and we don't know where they are.  They're not going to take action until they're ready, and they have superhuman patience, planning, and intelligence.  They're inherently evil, it's in their genes.”

 

The giant stood up and pointed down at Oliver, now he was ready to lecture.  “Now, you listen here young man.  No one is inherently evil.  We are all products of our environment and our parenting and background.  Only children believe in these good guys and evil guys stories.  I thought you were an adult, but it sounds like you're a bunch of bullies who like to think it's OK to be mean if it's for the right reason.”  As opposed to the wrong reason, like they need us to protect them from themselves.

 

The boy's response was soft, “We are bullies, and yes, we are doing it for the right reason.  That's why we need to know, are you working with the Nietzscheans?  Are they the ones giving you the technology to invade other worlds?  You can tell me, uplifting a species is a crime and your actions would not be your fault, rather the fault of the people who raised you up.”

 

“That's absurd, I haven't even heard of any of this.  Our advances are our...” Benjamin paused, thinking back to the discovery.

 

It was maybe a decade ago he was attending a cross-discipline symposium.  This conference, which was just after he finished graduate school, was a privilege he was paid to attend.  Being paid to do research was a sign he had made it, and he could consider himself fully an adult.

 

He was excited to see the latest discoveries in using computers to help translate linear B of the 'big boy' language.  He was hoping there was proof of the lost city of Atlantis, a place where Amazons discovered the edges of science.  He knew his ancestors had to be capable of great accomplishments, but some dark age had clouded the past when Atlantis had sunk into the ocean.  Benjamin's mind was recalling a specific lecture, by one Dr. Bremer, and it went someplace else he was not expecting.  Bremer had some unusual ideas and was an outsider to the field – all fields really - but she had quickly made a name for herself as the leading expert on all things not of this world.

 

“The ancient Lilliputians believed that the multiverse could be accessed by identifying coordinates of other Earths as a series of six points, that when combined with normal three-dimensional space creates a nine-point address.  Given this, the carvings found in the burial chamber might be coordinates of a set of dimensions like our own that are near enough to visit.  This would be another example of the lost technologies, and perhaps evidence that Amazons had lived on this island before the littles.  They built a fantastic civilization, and for some reason, left.  With the rediscovery of these coordinates, this fills in some practical problems with existing m-theory, and we may even be able to visit these worlds.”

 

Benjamin fell out of the memory, “Everything we achieved was through our own hard work, there's no outside interference.”  Technically true.  Digging up the past was arduous work.

 

Oliver shook his head, “Unfortunate.  That would have made things easier.  By the way, the normal sized people on your planet.  We have not sequenced their genes, and it's not like that would tell us anything if we did.  Are they Nietzscheans?”

 

Benjamin was now angry, “You!”  He started again with righteous fury, “You think what we're doing is wrong.  And yet if you found out that it's happening to people that deserved it then you would be comfortable just letting it happen.  They're babies!  They're all just babies.  They're cute and fun and they will never grow up into anything bad or hurt themselves or others.  We sure as hell are going to protect them from the likes of you if you are thinking of going after them.”

 

The small man actually felt bad about that, he had been telling himself a story that the littles deserved what happened to them.  But no, the giant was right, he would not want that fate on his own worst enemies.  He just never wanted to actually face the possibility it might have happened to his worst enemies.  He walked over to another table and picked up a poster.  He walked over to Benjamin and started shoving it into the giant's hands.  “Can you read this for me?”

 

'My boy just wants me to read him a story, this is why he's being so talkative'.  He could not be mad at him, “Sure thing son, here give me a second to ...”  The text was linear C... strange request for a bedtime story, but he did his best voice.

 

“I tell you; man is something to be overcome.  What have you done to overcome him?  All beings so far have created something beyond themselves, and do you want to be the ebb of this great flood?”

 

Not really much of a story there, but he hoped the boy liked it, after all only daddies can learn to read linear C, he was just a silly baby interested in what his father was doing.

 

Oliver informed, “That text is not from your world.  I wrote it.”  Technically true.  Translating was arduous work.

 

The paper dropped, it fell out of his hands and floated to the ground before sliding off under a table.

 

“You can read linear 'Cee'?  It's the hardest of form of 'big boy’” Collins was the only little Ben knew who could translate the texts.  Collins needed help with some of the longer words, and it took him an hour to do a page, but he could do it.

 

Oliver saw the giants face droop, “I've been around the block a bit, that doesn't mean they are Nietzscheans, but I think that's an odd coincidence.  It could just be convergence.  We'd need to find out where the littles and bigs came from, why they're here, and what's going on to know for sure.”

 

Oliver moved on, “Look, let's.  I don't want you to have to stay at this facility.  We have a special place nearby.  The previous owner was in the eNn-Bee-Aye for a season.  He was seven foot three, and a beast of a man.  Many tall people find their way into the sport, and after a couple seasons of basketball he worked in charities.  He made a good living, built himself a house here, custom built to his needs.  He donated the house to be used for others like him who might need it, and we've used it in a few cases like yours.”

 

A betweener?  There is some Amazon in these people after all, “Will I meet him?” Benjamin inquired.

 

“Being tall is a physical disadvantage in our world.  Brings all sorts of bone problems.  I think he had a heart attack and died at the age of forty-five.  There's only about a hundred people in my country who are taller than seven feet, and even in great health they suffer for it.”

 

Their hearts are too big for the world.

[codsterc10@msn.com]

Amazing job 

[Moon3ye]

Love the Firer Fly and Andromeda references a lot.

At first I wasn't sure what to make of it all.

But chapter 2 makes the whole thing more interesting.

So the DD is such a huge anomaly that others notice her.

Considering PPP's original work, this is of course clear.

And the inconsistencies are also very interesting.

[kerry]

On 12/22/2024 at 12:32 AM, Operational Systems said:

Is it also true you have nanotech?  That's illegal on most worlds

I hope that at some point, in a later chapter, you'll explore this. 

7 hours ago, Operational Systems said:

eSs - eNn Risk

??? I can't figure out how to parse this, even given your propensity to spell out initials. (BTW, why? What would be the reason that this language evolved like this?)

OTOH:

wow! This is one of the most inventive concepts I've read since...since PPP brought the DD into existence. And I suspect it's only going to get better. 🙂

 

[Operational Systems]

7 hours ago, kerry said:

I hope that at some point, in a later chapter, you'll explore this. 

??? I can't figure out how to parse this, even given your propensity to spell out initials. (BTW, why? What would be the reason that this language evolved like this?)

OTOH:

wow! This is one of the most inventive concepts I've read since...since PPP brought the DD into existence. And I suspect it's only going to get better. 🙂

 

We will get to the source of the tech, but it won't come quickly.

Sorry about spelling out the initials for words in dialogue.  It was originally a plot point.  I ended up dropping the concept and putting it in its own short story, but I had already written a big chunk of the book doing the phonetic initials, so I kept it as an artistic flourish.  There's still very small payoff later in the book, but I'll consider cleaning it up for future chapters.  I was going to put off posting the short story until much later, but as an early gift I'll post it tomorrow with the next updates.

SN Risk.  Stands for Steppe Nomad Risk.  This is a joke name that sounds like 'S'-Risk and 'X'-Risk, a real concept for thinking about future existential threats to humanity.  In this case, the survivors of the bad time lines tend to roam around the multiverse doing what they want, and every couple hundred years they organize and attack the council worlds, doing lots of raiding and pillaging.  Oliver proposes the idea to Ben that his world was created as a trap to lure the council in and get bogged down and divided over.  The Nietzcheans are the worst people in the multiverse, and Oliver suggests they came in, maybe genetically augmented the Amazons, maybe gave them some technology and pointed them at their neighbor worlds and said go mess things up.
 

11 hours ago, Moon3ye said:

Love the Firer Fly and Andromeda references a lot.

Yup!  To be specific it's to a Travis Corcoran short story about the multiverse called Firefly Season 2.  You missed the Stargate one though!  While never officially stated, there are in book reasons for the television references, and be on the look for more.

I also sneak in a few references to other genre authors.  BFBoy in the prologue, PPP in chapter 2, and there will be others.  My regret is I didn't put more in.

[Operational Systems]

Chapter 4 is pretty short so I'll be posting that tonight.  In the mean time, enjoy an early Christmas present.  Another story I wrote called "Y and Z", that I have yet to post outside a few private channels.

Chapter 3: Built a mansion in a day.

 

May 10th, 2023, Creston, California - Earth

 

Benjamin felt a bit silly sitting in the bed of the Silverado, but unlike most little vehicles, he could be transported by it.  He had never seen a truck like this on his world, most bigs drove sensible small vehicles or mini-vans, if they drove at all.  A pickup truck is not a good vehicle for moving a family.  He had to be careful hopping into the eight-foot-long bed, and he had to grip the sides of the truck as it moved.  At six hundred pounds, Benjamin was on the thinner side, but the truck felt like it wanted to flip over when he pushed himself into it.

 

Oliver drove the vehicle slowly.  He explained he would be taking some back roads to minimize attention.  It gave Benjamin a view of the surroundings.  Along one dirt road was a farm, sunflowers lined the edge of the fence, and there were a handful of cattle that watched him.  No humans or other cars were seen.

 

About two miles down that dirt road, there was a streetlamp to mark the turn, and the truck turned into an unpaved road.  It slowly moved over pits and rocks.  Despite his efforts to shield himself, some mud made its way to Benjamin's clothing.  The truck found its way to a drive and parked without any attempt to find the correct spot.  Oliver undid his seatbelt and hopped down, the speed he fell to the ground caused a bounce, and he ran to the back of the truck.  He opened the door and grabbed the hand of the giant to guide him out.

 

Daddy's legs are sore, yes please help me up kiddo.  Benjamin controlled himself enough to not say it out loud, but the words were tugging at him like the small hand tugging at his fingers.

 

“Up, up!  OK, let's get you inside, and then we'll just go over our expectations and what we have planned.”  Oliver commanded the giant.

 

Oliver unlocked the front door and held it open for Benjamin.  The house was small, but it was at least comfortable for a man of his height unlike the facility he had come from.  He did not have to duck his head anymore, and the lighting and fans were better placed to accommodate a tall person.  Benjamin crouched down and untied his shoes, taking a moment to watch Oliver as he started slipping the left shoe off with his right shoe, not even bothering to untie them.

 

“Oliver!  Take your shoes off properly.”  Benjamin roared at him.  Oliver had not been yelled at a man like that since he was in boot camp.

 

He turned to the giant confused, staring at the man who was on his knees and was now eye to eye.  Benjamin explained in a voice with patience, “You believe I have a condition that makes it difficult to see you as an adult.  It's not your word choices, it's all in the movements and actions you take.  Please, take your shoes off correctly.  It is important for me.”

 

Oliver knelt down, a mirror of Benjamin, and untied both laces.  He used his hands to carefully remove the loafers.  He picked up both shoes while coming back up and came over to Benjamin's large shoes.  He bent over and came up with an armful, “Let me get these put away somewhere we won't be tripping over them.  Please take a seat.”  Oliver noticed something as he opened a side closet.

 

He waved a pair at Benjamin, “Look.  Our shoes have the same number.  Both size nine.  That's interesting.”

 

“What do the numbers mean?” Benjamin had begun working himself into a living room adjacent to the vestibule.

 

“I never bothered to learn, just what size my foot was.  What do they mean on your world?”

 

“You know, I don't know either.”  They both gave a small chuckle; Oliver continued the conversation.

 

“My dad would always steal my shoes before I moved out.  We had the same size foot and he just never paid attention.”

 

Benjamin smiled, “Well, I don't think we're going to be having that problem.”

 

Oliver put the shoes into a nearby closet and turned and saw Benjamin sinking into a long coach.  He looked a bit ridiculous sitting that way with his knees so far up, but the couch was long enough to hold him if he wanted to fall over and stretch.  Oliver made his way over to the living room and found a recliner.  He did not sit down directly, instead bracing himself against the chair.

 

The tall man had his eyes closed, his hands around his face, and he mumbled, “Something you said bothered me.”

 

“I'm sorry.  Look, I wish we had better methods available.  I can only try to make it right afterwards, that's the best I can do when we do something wrong,” Oliver apologized.

 

“No, not that, the part about history.  That's the thing that is wrong.”

 

“What?  Studying history as if it were a science?” Oliver incredulously challenged.

 

“Sort of, I mean there is a 'Geschichtswissenschaft', that's just a fancy term for the art of studying history, but it's not like a chemical equation.  You don't get one part World War Two- and one-part Firefly and get your world.”  Benjamin began his explanation.

 

“You're basing this on your years of studying different worlds?” Oliver retorted.  If you cannot learn your own language without learning another, how can you learn your world's history without studying other worlds?

 

Benjamin looked up, directly to Oliver, 'No, I'm basing this on being a man who teaches history.  It's an arrangement of a collection of facts, and you tell a story from it, and when you add more facts - if the story doesn't work anymore you need to find a different story.”

 

He quickly protected himself, “Don't let my colleagues find out I described our profession that way.  Every single one hates describing history as a 'collection of facts', because that's how we teach history to children.  The children learn the wrong lessons and when they get to college, we have to make them first unlearn it.”

 

He explained how it was supposed to work, “If you have a story and I have a fact, and my fact doesn't fit with your story, one of us is wrong, and we better work to figure it out.  History as a study is about using certain tools to build better narratives and determine how important we should weigh individual facts.  It's not always the person with the fact who is right.  But if you take away the collection of facts, it's just making up stories and there's no reason to believe one story over another.  If you're just stating or analyzing what people wrote, well that's a different school and I'm sure they're all nice people there, but I got my degree in history.”

 

The answer did not actually contradict anything Oliver had said, but it seemed a perfectly fine explanation of what a smart child might conclude a historian did.  History as no more than “what we did on our summer vacation,” but across the entire society.

 

Oliver wondered how many of the adult... Amazon, jobs were fake, and how many Amazons were aware their jobs were fake.  Was it possible to run a society where most jobs were bullshit?  Like an entire planet turned into the H channel, a serious topic but redone as entertainment with little actual value.

 

Oliver shifted focus onto something else, “It's got to bother you, you've noticed the gaps.”

 

Benjamin nodded along, “That's why we were so interested in translating the little's writing.  It was the one unbroken chain from before unification.  Every time we work on some new stack of documents, we find out something new about the world.  It's weird, thinking that real history for us is only a few generations old, when history should have been with us from the dawn of our civilization.  I've come to grips with it.”

 

Oliver sympathized, “It's like you're coming out of a dark age.  Knowing there were greater minds in the past that can't be seen and trying to recreate what they knew from fragments.”

 

“Thank you by the way.  Letting me talk about this, it's getting my mind back in a way that I haven't felt since coming here.”

 

Oliver played with his stubble for a second, and then went for a sales pitch, “I know this is presumptive, but if you don't want to go back, you can stay here.  We can work on those desires you have.  It would be useful for us to show Amazons are capable of changing.”

 

Benjamin was unsure and looked to the side, “This is too much.  I don't want to be a martyr for my people.  I don't want to be some weird experiment.”

 

Oliver agreed, “Fair, but if you want to do something else, it doesn't have to be teaching history, I mentioned basketball, but I wouldn't recommend that, you have an amazing reading voice, even if all you did was read audio books professionally you could live a comfortable life here.”

 

“Why do you care?  Why don't you just send me back?”

 

Oliver sighed hard, his shoulders collapsing.  He began taking off his tie.  “Everyone thinks my department is a joke, and they're more or less right.  I know I said we do great work, but the best I have been able to spin this is that we're gathering intelligence on a possible threat.  This is why I'm letting you have so much rope, if I don't succeed the project is doomed anyways.  I need... I want you to want to be better.  I'm sorry that we started by hurting you and I'm sorry I pulled some tricks on you that dredged up some deep emotions.”

 

Without the tie and overcoat Oliver was like a child again.  Benjamin saw him as a student who had gotten lost on what to write for a paper, just digging further and further into research and not willing to commit words to the page.  Apologizing for being late again.  Benjamin said nothing.

 

Oliver's mood picks up.  “You know what, fuck it.  Let's be friends.  Benjamin, you may not have wanted to go on this vacation, but interdimensional travel is extremely rare even for a people like mine.  You have an opportunity here to see an entire new world, and I'm happy to show you everything great we have to offer.  I bet cow is pretty rare on your world.  Your Earth is smaller right?  You need more food per person, can't dedicate that much to grazing.  We have plenty of cow, I'd be happy to give you that.  Just, take a break, relax a few days, have fun.”

 

Benjamin laughed, “Of course we have cow.  I don't know if you saw this when you visited us, but half of our population consumes a great deal of dairy.  It is a huge ecological crisis, but no, hamburger, steak, all things I've had.”

 

“Hmm, I bet you haven't had watermelon.  I have a big one I haven't cut open.  Here meet me in the kitchen I want to show you this.”

 

A minute later Benjamin was standing near the sink.  It was a large single basin with plenty of room for large hands to wash dishes in.  The whole room had a modern farm aesthetic that snuggled oversized appliances between bright white painted wooden cabinetry and counters.  Oliver struggled a bit with the large fruit before placing it on the counter.  He rolled out some paper towels, placed the melon on them, and grabbed a large knife.  Benjamin's heart stopped.

 

“The outer part is just a shell, and you don't eat that.  The inside is red and is the best.”  He carefully examines the melon trying to determine where to cut it when it started moving.  Oliver reached out to stop the fruit, but noticed the watermelon was being lifted up.  It was heading to Benjamin's mouth.

 

“You gotta' - you have to cut it.”  Oliver waggled the knife.

 

“Watch this” The melon came down hard in the sink, there was a splash of red and the watermelon cracked.  Benjamin picked up half, bringing it entirely to his mouth.  He scooped it on his bottom teeth and returned the shell to the sink.

 

“Hmm, it tastes like.”  He pauses looking for the word, “a watermelon.”

Oliver was disappointed it was not a novel experience.  He picked up one of the paper towels and started wiping himself, red had gotten everywhere.  He carefully cleaned the unused knife and put it to dry.  “You've had it before?”

 

“Not one that tiny, no.  I just always wanted to crack a watermelon like that.”

 

Oliver laughed and grabbed some more towels before taking the whole roll and giving it to Benjamin.  The giant patted his own face and his shirt, before taking the time to clean some watermelon shards that got elsewhere in the kitchen.  There was a small bit of red on the ceiling he dabbed down.  He then looked down at Oliver who had gone back to the fridge to consider what else he could get his new friend to eat.

 

“Oliver, I'm sorry, this is a bit weird, but I actually want to try cooking.  I want to see your world's recipes.”

 

Oliver’s whole body halted, and he closed the fridge quickly, like he had just been caught with his pants down.  He lived like a bachelor.  He did not have much of anything, and he almost never cooked for himself these days.  Work was just too important, either he was skipping meals, or eating take out.  “I haven't gone shopping in a few days, and I live by myself when I do stay here.  You are welcome to look in the cabinet and see what we need.  We can order some ingredients or kits and have it delivered for tomorrow.”

 

The ten-foot man went into the pantry and knelt down to look at what was there.  There was old bread, old tortillas, boxes of crackers, lard, stale olive oil, a spice rack with three shakers.  Halfway up the sparse pantry he spotted it.  The blue boxes, still wrapped as a quad from when they had been sold together.

 

“Oh, we have this too.  I want to try this.  The picture is different though, we only have the yellow kind.”

 

Oliver rushed over, excited “Great!  That's the deluxe kind.  Only buy the ones with real cheese, it's important to never cheap out.  Also!  Don't pay more for the ones with a restaurant name, those are made in the same factory and just given a different box.  They taste the same but cost a dollar more.”  Oliver was unsure why he told him this, it was not like it would be useful information in the diaper dimension.  Benjamin did not have any of this planet's money and he was not going shopping.

 

“You know a lot about your pasta.  Please, let me make this.  Cooking will make me feel better.  Here, three for you and one for me.”  He casually tossed three boxes at Oliver.  The pass startled the smaller man, and Oliver made an awkward jig as he tried not to drop them.

 

Oliver's face was beaming, “I think the pots are on the bottom left of the oven.  Here let me get those so you don't have to bend over.”

 

Before Benjamin could say anything, Oliver ducked around and pulled out a couple large pots from the cabinets.  He put them on the counter next to the boxes.  He saw Benjamin struggle a bit with the tiny text of the box.

 

“I'll get the box open as it's made for tinier hands.  Just fill the pots up with four quarts each.  I guess that's a gallon of water.”  Benjamin had a preternatural ability to get the water level right just by looking.  He returned the water to the countertop and set the knobs too high.  A small flame emerged.  Gas.  He always wanted a gas stove at home, but the other parents had chosen some weird rules to protect their little ones, and every house in the neighborhood was induction.

 

Other parents.

 

He should be back home, cooking Mac and Cheese for Collins.  Had Collins been a vegan?  Could he eat the cheese, or would they both have to have normal pasta?  Would a little's prior dietary restrictions even matter to the new parent?  Benjamin was starting to feel sad again.  He should not want to know the answer to these questions.

 

“We'll wait for it to boil, I'll add the pasta, you can drain it, and then I'll add the cheese and you can mix.  Just one step for each of us, we can say we made it together.” Oliver offered happily.

 

“Oliver, can you do me a favor?” He could still feel it, from when Oliver had asked to be his friend.

“Anything”

 

“When a little, when a normal sized person says a bad word in front of a tall person, there's a part of the brain,” and he tapped his head in a spot-on top, and tilted his head so Oliver could see.  It was back a bit, between the ears and slightly to the right.  “Right here.  It hurts.  I know it's a way to show you're comfortable, but I would like you to do me this favor and try to not say naughty words.  Or even imply it, or in any way make me hear the word in my head.”

 

Words with biological feedback?  Like actual pain?  Setup some speakers on helicopters like Apocalypse Now! and blast the 'Seven words you can't say on TV'.  You would conquer the planet in three days.

 

“That's incredibly honest of you and I thank you for sharing that.  I promise to the best of my ability to not use a word that is beneath me.”  Oliver made his way back to the table and changed the topic.  “What... what is your favorite food on Amazonia?”

 

“Giraffe.”

Oliver turned his body fast to the giant, “You're joking.”

 

“No, I had it at my uncle's third wedding.  It's extremely expensive, but I got to try a tiny bit of tongue.”  Benjamin recalled.

 

“Oh... hmm.  I guess your relationship with megafauna is different.  You don't” he was unsure if he wanted to know, “you don't eat whales, do you?”

 

“What's a whale?” Benjamin was serious in his reply.

 

“They're mammals in the ocean.  Like dolphins, orcas, blue whales, you know cetaceans.”

 

“Mammals don't swim in the ocean; fish live in the ocean.  How would they breathe?”

 

Oliver was putting it together.  There is no way their world did not have ocean mammals; it is an obvious niche.  Something terrible in the past must have happened but the Amazons just did not write it down.  Star Trek warned this could happen.  Oliver could feel a bit of rage growing, another log for the fire that was their dimension.  It was not his world, but it could have been.  It was not Benjamin's fault, and it probably happened long before he was born.

 

“I'll have to show you a documentary on them some time.  They're the most wonderful creatures in nature.  As smart as people, maybe smarter, they have their own culture and language.  We've never been able to understand what they're saying, all we know is that they have shown humanity far more respect than we deserve, given how we treated them.  It took us a long time to learn we need to give them space and that their needs are important too.  We're trying to be better.”

The water in one pot started boiling, Oliver moved to add the noodles, and then waited for the second pot to boil before adding pasta there as well.  He set an alarm for twelve minutes.  He took out some bowls and silverware and placed it on the table.  He looked at the small fork he had set aside for Benjamin and grabbed a salad fork and large mixing spoon instead.  He took out another role of paper towels and gave himself one towel and left the roll for Benjamin.  Oliver looked at the table with its human sized chairs, and then to Benjamin, and then moved Benjamin's utensils and bowl to a counter so he could stand and eat, rather than try to sit at the kiddie table.

 

The giant drained the pasta and added the noodles to a large mixing bowl.  Oliver added the cheese sauce and started to mix.  Benjamin disappeared back into the pantry and returned.  He opened his hand and a cylindrical container fell into Oliver's arms.  Oliver rolled the container over and read out loud, a bit confused why Ben brought it to him.  “Barbecue Rub, best for Beef, Pork, and Poultry.  I'm not sure why I bought this.”

 

“Yes, please mix some with the cheese, and then add some to the top for decoration.” Benjamin instructed.

 

“Why?”

 

“Because I'm the one cooking.”  Oliver popped the lid, added the meat rub as instructed, he stirred, and poured himself a small bowl, leaving the mixing bowl for the taller man.  A simple dish for a child, make one small addition, and it was now something an adult would eat without embarrassment.

 

They ate silently, Oliver finished first and brought the dish to the sink.  He took the time to start cleaning, filling pots with water and soap, and hand washing the dirty dishes.  Midway through, Oliver stopped and let the sounds in the kitchen go to silence.

 

“Ben,” a pause long enough to make sure Benjamin was paying attention, “I have to know.  You resisted the urge your whole life, what changed?  Did Collins do something?  Was it just a bad day?  What changed in you that you wanted to take away his agency?  I thought he was your best friend.”

 

“I was his advisor, I wouldn't say,” it was a defensive response, but not an honest one.  “I, yes sure, OK we were close.  It wasn't me.  I wasn't me.”

 

“Is it like an addiction, or a chemical imbalance?  Why not use hypnosis?  You could make yourself better that way.”

 

“I told him no.” Benjamin answered.  It was quiet and heavy.

 

“What does that mean?” Oliver questioned.

 

“It means, he asked me, and I told him no.” Benjamin returned.

 

“Why would you send out that e-mail?” Oliver was incredulous towards Ben's waffling.

 

“I thought someone else would say yes.”

 

Oliver was unsure why he was angry.  Collins wanted to be taken in, he asked Benjamin to be his dad, and Benjamin said no.  What the hell is this?  “Collins needed you, he just wanted to be like you.  Why didn't you want him in your life?”

 

“I was scared to be a father.  I had spent my whole life fighting that, and suddenly Collins just asked me.  He wanted,” Benjamin remembered the tears coming down the tiny man's face, “Collins was sick, he had some illness none of our doctors could diagnose.  They kept saying it was early onset maturosis, but it wasn't.  We knew it wasn't.”

 

Oliver filled in the gaps, “Because the littles never described the condition you were seeing.  Because no one on the planet had seen it before.”

 

“I think so.  And we tried looking, but Collins hoped we'd find more evidence in the documents, something buried, something that could help our scientists.  He wanted to believe regression might be like putting him in a freezer, and maybe I would find a cure and he could be back.  And if it didn't work, at least he wouldn't be aware of what was happening.”

 

“Would that have been so bad?  Just take him in.”

 

Benjamin grew defensive, “I, OK, this is, I'm not sure why I'm saying this.  I didn't want a disabled child.  I didn't want to know he'd just have a short time, watching him get worse and worse, all the while being unable to explain or talk about what had happened, just a confused damaged child.  Does that make me a bad person?  If you had a choice in the matter?”

 

Oliver was not sure how to answer that.  He was already uncertain how he had gotten to the place he was defending turning a human into a baby, believing that somehow it would be wrong to not do that.

 

“Collins believed that the reason his condition wasn't in the writing of the other littles was because it wasn't natural.  Some new stressor, or allergen or virus in the Amazon environment, and if we could raise him naturally like the littles did, it would go away.  I think he was just getting lost in the research we were doing, but maybe he was right.  Maybe there is an entire trove of lost documents dealing with medicine and health.  Maybe we were just looking in the wrong part of the island.”

 

Oliver was not sure pressing him this next part would help, he was not sure Benjamin wanted to know, “Benjamin, it's OK, you were right.  In the stories about the littles, the ones in the history books, you always said that before Unification the littles lived miserable lives.  What do your stories say they did to the adults who came down with maturosis?  The littles were often a people that was constantly bumping up against their island's population limits.  If maturosis is a real condition, what do you think the littles did to the others with real disabilities, given they just left the adult babies to starve?”

 

“They would not have done that to Collins.  He was still useful for his mind, and maybe they could cure him.  They were an advanced people.  Dimensional travel, architecture, philosophy, surely, they would not do that.”

 

Oliver had gotten him to admit it, the littles had the tech first and were the source.  Just one more push.

 

“So, the myth of maturosis in the wild, leaving regressed adults to die, all that is just made up?”

 

Ben now knew.  That is it!  You just want to gloat you have proof that we have been gaslighting.  Prove we are the bad guys here?  You still do not believe maturosis was real?

 

Benjamin lost control.  The culmination of everything he had experienced today.  Electrical punishment, growing big, growing small, being friendly, being mean, saying they are worse than slavers and then complaining he did not enslave his best friend.  He unloaded on the tiny man.

 

“Yes, it's a fucking myth.  Propaganda.  You happy?  I am constantly angry with that, there's so much bad history in the water and that one actively hurts.  And every damn little, all two billion of you tiny people, you just would love for maturosis to be fake.  That it's entirely a condition of the bigs, that we need to be cured.  Of course, being among Amazons makes it more common, but you still had it!  You wrote about it!  It was rare, but when you got it, your people treated it like it was a blessing.”

 

Two bad words, it hurt Benjamin to say those, but it was worth it.

 

“I'm not...” Oliver was concerned.

 

Benjamin continued, ignoring Oliver, “YES!  We should not treat maturosis the way we do!  It makes the condition worse!  Amazon society was completely unprepared for this.  And Collins wanted me to try treating him the right way and see if it would work, and I told him no.  I told him I didn't think it would work, but I think I was just ...”  Benjamin was breathing heavier, his nostrils coming in, he shook a few times and said, “I think I just wanted him to be my baby boy forever.”

 

It was a mix of anger and frustration.  It was disappointment with himself.  It was the belief he was the worst person in the world.  It was?  …

 

Everything would be OK.  It was the warmth of the sun after a rain shower.  It was a hearty meal on a chilly day.  It was a hug from a child.  He looked down and saw the small man hugging him.  Tiny arms around his waist, a small face in his stomach.  Benjamin reached down and pulled him in.  It was the happiest he had felt in weeks.

 

Why had he been angry?  Why had he been sad?

 

“I didn't mean to bring that up in that way, I'm sorry.  I just wanted us to be friends again.”

 

“Oliver.”

 

The boy looked up into the eyes of the giant.  His face was a bit more red in the cheeks.

 

“Remember what I said about doing childish things.”

 

Oliver nodded, happy, then started pushing away, Benjamin let go and felt a small pang in his heart.  The toddler patted himself down and said, “Here, let me make myself big again.”  Oliver sighed; he did not want to have to say this.

 

“Benjamin, you shared something deeply personal to me, let me share something with you.  I served in a war.  I was severely injured, had physical therapy.  The pain's mostly gone, I don't need a cane anymore, but there's still some damage.  Bad scars.”

 

Benjamin blinked and he was looking at a much older man.  His hair had small graying along the edges, and his face was starting to show wrinkles of age.  He looked a tad bit older than Benjamin saw himself.  Oliver was not a crying child; he was now just a short old guy.

 

“The plumbing down below no longer works right.  I need to wear extra protection at night.  I hope that won't be a problem.”

 

Benjamin was not sure how to answer that, “Are we supposed to be sleeping together?”

 

“No.” Oliver laughed a little, realizing he had not shown him around.   How impolite!  “Here let me show you your bedroom.”

 

 

Y and Z By Operational Systems 20241224.pdf

Edited December 24, 2024 by Operational Systems
Added Attachment

[Daymare]

This story is an absolute mindfuck... but in a good way. It seriously reminds me of being young again during the golden age of our literary scene back in the 2000s... I don't know what else to say... It's like you've reached back twenty years in time and presented us with a gem from the past... I was actually going to write a sequel to one of my DD stories where an Amazon ends up going to a world of giants, but why bother now? LOL

 

I've noticed you're a bit fixated on Firefly. If you like anime I highly recommend Outlaw Star since it started the whole Sci Fi Western concept before Cowboy Bebop hit the air a year later...

[SGTbaby]

Interesting story and how it twists everything. 

[codsterc10@msn.com]

Amazing job i look forward to reading more to come 

[kerry]

9 hours ago, Operational Systems said:

Oliver knelt down, a mirror of Benjamin, and untied both laces.  He used his hands to carefully remove the loafers.

But loafers don't have laces. That's what makes them loafers.

[Operational Systems]

5 hours ago, kerry said:

But loafers don't have laces. That's what makes them loafers.

Deleting my book now.  I am now going write a whole new novel.

j/k

Here's chapter 4, it's short that's why it's coming in early.  I'll spread out the next 5 chapters between now and the 1st, as it's only about 30 pages and that section is a cohesive arc.  Also Don't forget a copy of Y & Z, a short unrelated story, was attached to chapter 3, if you haven't had a chance to read it, check it out.

* * *

Chapter 4: To be made a lonely child.

 

May 10th, 2023, Creston, California - Earth

 

The bedroom would have been large for a family room in a normal house.  There was an attached room leading to a huge Jacuzzi bath and tall shower.  Oliver could swim in the bath like a kiddie pool.  The bedroom itself had its closets and furniture custom built for one of the tallest men in the world, and as such these were still functional for a man over ten feet tall.  The bed had a massive double king mattress.  It had been placed sideways relative to the entrance to suggest a normal bed.

 

“It's hard to find sheets for a bed like this, hopefully it's comfortable.  There are only a couple changes of clothing in the closet.  Can't go shopping in your world without money.”  He pointed into the closet to what looked like a couple of novelty oversized t-shirts, and a pair of stilt covers for pants, like the kind a circus performer might wear.  The outfits were bright, and the colors striped like a hot dog stand.  They were inappropriate for being seen as a serious adult.

 

Oliver continued, “Or visit public spaces, listen to the radio, watch television, or interact with other humans.  Your planet is like being in a war zone.  I worked with what I could here on Earth, and I had to guess the size.  We'll have to go to a tailor if you want something else, but I don't know if you intend to stay here that long.”

 

“Intend to stay?  What are you getting at?”  He had made his demands clear, he wanted to go home.

 

“The urges are getting worse right?”  The three-year-old had a point, kids were always saying the darnedest things.

 

“If we send you back now, you'll go grab the first little you find and ...”

 

“No, don't be crass.  There's an adoption process, I'm sure ...” but the little had been right.  He had mentally been going through the students from last semester.  Surely there was one who would be as good as Collins.  He would like a boy, but a girl would be nice too.

 

“Suppose you let this young man into your life.  Then what happens?  What do you do?”

 

Benjamin took a large breath and said it in one go, “I'd hug him and love him and make him his favorite meals and read him stories and play with him and make sure he got plenty of rest and when he was sick, I'd take care of him.”

 

Oliver was unsure why that answer came so fast, but he ran with it, “OK, so that's day one.  You bring home this baby, what about day two?  What then?”

 

“I'd hug him and love him and make him his favorite meals and read him stories and play with him and make sure he got plenty of rest and when he was sick, I'd take care of him.”

 

“And the same on day three?” Oliver tried.

 

“Yes.” Ben snapped off the answer.

 

“And day three hundred?”

 

“I'm sure there would be some ….” Ben was growing uncertain, a small quake in his response.

 

“And day three thousand?  Day thirty thousand?”

 

Benjamin could see himself, old, sixty, seventy, eighty, ninety, still changing a diaper.  Still reliving day one.  Somehow it did not seem wrong, but not feeling wrong was what was wrong.  He knew it should have felt bad.  He knew it should have bothered him, and that he should want to not want this.  The values of wanting to coddle a little were authentic, they were fulfilling, but they were in conflict with his own understanding of his thriving and deeper humanity.

 

“Why not just make a real baby.  Just find a nice gal, have your own son or daughter, you get to have all the different parts of raising a kid.  Diapers, first day of school, first tree fort, first kiss, first break up, first dance, graduating school, going to college, meeting a gal, marriage, and grandchildren.  You can have it all.  Why relive the baby years over and over and over?”

 

The urge had passed.  Benjamin did not want to admit it, but the boy had a point.  These values were in conflict, and he was giving preference to a kind of immaturity.  He spoke an excuse, “It takes too long.  It takes too long to have a baby.”

 

“I mean sure, finding a gal, marriage, all that” Oliver had not had much luck with dating lately either.

 

“No, an Amazon gestation is four hundred and thirty days.  And when they pop up out, they're not cute little babies like you.  Our babies can walk the day they are born.  They learn to talk in a few days.”

 

Littles were more like cats.  Domesticated cats evolved to make sounds like human babies and are better than human babies at hitting those notes.  But unlike happy babies, they do not stop purring as they get older.  It is the same for a little that stops getting bigger once they reach the height of a toddler Amazon.  They stop getting smarter than the Amazon toddlers too.  A little would still be a baby on day three thousand and day thirty thousand.

 

“That feels like it explains a lot more than I think it should.  You know humans are baked in about nine months, right?”  He did some quick math, “About two hundred eighty days, sorry I don't remember if you have thirty-day months.”

 

Benjamin reveled in Oliver's discovery, as a child learning the basic facts of life.  With jocularity he answered the boy's question, “Of course we know!  You're preemies!  You need to be babies for so long just to catch up to where Amazons are on day one.  Then you still have all sorts of development issues for years in school.”

 

Benjamin did not point out the littles popped after two hundred Amazonian days.  Seven months for the littles, fourteen for the bigs.  Time must flow differently here.

 

“Premature... wait actually, yeah that's right.  Our heads get too big for our mother's bodies, so we need to pop out early.”

 

Evolution had gotten stuck.  If humans were the size of elephants or whales that would probably change a lot in terms of how they developed.  Elephants were still pretty smart and social.  Human babies were unusually dumb compared with even other primates, and the babies come out completely defenseless.  More like kangaroos.  Some scientists said this was a strength, more time to learn to socialize, but now Oliver was not sure.

 

“Quit calling yourself human to make yourself distinct from us.  That's our term too.  It's just archaic.” Ben chided.

 

Oliver was curious, “You called yourselves humans?  What did the normal sized people call themselves?”

 

This was something he studied, an actual question related to his direct expertise, a giddy excitement built in his face.  He could see the writing of the word in his mind.  He began pronouncing it,

 

“Ni..” Benjamin started.

 

His face scrunched.  That is weird.  Just “Neheee hee” Something was not working right.  Benjamin moved the tongue around in his mouth and tried one last time.  “Neahhh.”

 

Like a command, a voice.  Do not tell the outsiders the truth!  It was primal.  A taboo.  He just knew it was wrong, without anyone ever telling him.  No one needs to tell you to not be attracted to your sisters either, that rule just happens in every single culture on Earth.

Benjamin's face was starting to puff up, red, angry, confused.  He was losing breath.  He sat down on the edge of the bed and stared at Oliver, whose concern was genuine.

 

There was a block.  Like the stuck zipper, it was not moving.  Like when Oliver made him little.  He tried closing his eyes, but he still knew Oliver was in the room and he was not supposed to hear this word.  The pacing of his breaths got closer together.  Just say it!  “Nies”  “kem.”  “Ehhh”

 

“Are you, OK?  Are you having a stroke?”  Shit!  Did they hurt him with that electricity?  Maybe something Ben was allergic to in the mac and cheese?

 

Benjamin gritted his teeth, and his mouth made a noise like a meat slicer at a sandwich deli.  Oliver came over and tapped his leg.

 

“I need to beat this.  This is who I am.  This is what I trained for.  Just say the word.”  But Benjamin could not.  His fingers started to tingle as he gripped in and out.  “NIIII”

 

“Daddy can't pronounce the funny word.  Daddy, do you need help reading the word?  I can help!  Just write it down I'll read it for you!”

 

He was alone with a toddler.  He will not remember anything; it was fine to say.  Babies cannot remember past their last diaper change.  “They call themselves Nitz Keans.”

 

“Don't be silly.  It's pronounced Nietzscheans.   Nietzscheans!”

 

Between fighting the mind control and now a correction from a baby.  That broke him again.  Benjamin gave his first command as a new father.

 

“Never judge a man when he mispronounces a word.  That just means he is well read.”

 

The voice.

 

Oliver recognized the tone immediately.  His defenses should have been better, but he was too busy pretending to be a three-year-old.  There is a spot in his head where his dad gave him advice on car shopping, where his dad had told him to avoid a certain girl, or to eat the crust of his bread.  The spot where he was taught to safely make a fire while camping, and then shown how to not do so when lighter fluid was brought out to assist.  Do as I say!  In that spot was the new command.

 

“Don't judge a man for mispronouncing words.”  It would not be unlodged, it would become a part of Oliver's being.  He would think of the advice from time to time without noticing.  He would no longer find fault in others.  He would dexterously introduce the correct expression that ought to have been used, like he was inquiring or confirming.  Make it sound like the suggestion was not of the proper word or correct grammar, but of the idea trying to be conveyed.  He would not want to judge men for this kind of error.

 

Oliver was pissed at himself for letting his guard down like that.  He knew he could have stopped it, and he knew he could stop it still, he just no longer wanted to.  He wondered if Benjamin had spotted him lowering his guard and went for a strike.  A test.  Oliver needed to get away from him.  Just move to the next day.  Benjamin was breaking the script.  This was already enough to go on.  The voice was dangerous, and if Benjamin was now using the voice freely, it meant the big no longer cared about that danger.

 

“I, uh yeah, thank you, sorry for, um.”  For a moment, Oliver could not focus or center himself, but then leveled out.  “I feel it's getting later; I will shower up and get myself to rest.  Are you OK with unwinding here?”

 

A hand the size of a basketball came down and held his shoulder.  To Oliver it felt like it was about to crush his bones.

 

“Yes, it's almost bedtime.  Go ahead and get your pajamas and a towel and I'll get the bath ready for you.  Then we'll brush our teeth and I'll tuck you in and we'll read until you fall asleep.  Since this is a special night, our first night together, I'll let you use daddy's special bath if you want.”

 

Benjamin would be like this for a while.  Oliver knew that the voice also did something to his da... to the Amazons.  Benjamin would be in a high.  Oliver could use the command, bust out of this, but it might break the trust, and set everything back to day zero.  He still needed Benjamin.  He would need to find another way.

[Operational Systems]

Another short chapter today.  Chapter 6 will be the big chapter posted before the weekend, and then before the new year I'll post chapters 7, 8, and 9 as they're very short.
 

Chapter 5:  I'm flipping out in the magazine neighborhood.

 

20 Vendémiaire Year CCXXVIII, Potat, South Windland, Libertalia - Amazonia

 

F. Scott Fiztgerald once wrote, “In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I've been turning over in my mind ever since.”

 

Imagine, what it would mean to receive just one sentence, one sequence of words, that could linger with you for years, advice that would not just encompass your thoughts once, but would constantly worm its way up there, that you will revisit over and over in new context throughout your life.  Who else, but one’s dad, would be capable of such a powerful exchange.  As you grow older your memory will fail you, and you will forget the names of old teachers and old streets, unspoken languages will melt away, and when cursive becomes a rotted jungle, the words of your father will stick with you.  They are the ideas you do not want to abandon, and they will come to define the type of person you aspire to be.

 

As all the readers should know, the mommies on Amazonia have breast milk, which in the diaper dimension is written as closer to Homeric ambrosia or nectar than ordinary dairy.  It strips away the years and inflames the passions.  That's not fair to daddies though.  You can say that's how it is in real life; all boys and girls are more attached to their mothers.  The fact is, even on Earth, there are things dads can do that moms cannot.

 

They can talk to their children differently.

 

Think of a naughty child, where the mother scolds him, “Wait until your father hears about this.  He will give you a ‘talking too’”.

 

Think of the advice you get from a father.  The real advice, the stuff that sticks with you in a way that advice from friends, and teachers, and work colleagues and even your mother or siblings does not.  It is clear, not mixed with everything else you knew.

 

Think of that scene in “The Graduate” with Walter Brooke taking aside Dustin Hoffman, “Just one word.  Are you listening?  Plastics.”  Obviously, that was not from his father, but it was sold like advice from a father figure.  A mommy cannot do this. 

 

It manifests in other ways, not just wisdom.  The whole point of a dad joke is that it is being set up as some important wisdom, and instead it's useless.

 

“Son, have you ever wondered, why are there so many people at the cemetery?”  It is like birds and bees.  It is like dating advice.  It is like car shopping.  He is preparing you to get wisdom on how to deal with tragedy, life, death, and religion.  He has your full attention.

 

“Because they're dying to get in!”

 

The dad joke is just practice at the voice.  He is not ready to give the real advice and you're not ready to hear it.

 

If the diaper dimension is every age regression story combined into one, imagine how much worse the “dress down from your father” must be.  On the world of Amazons, the dad voice is far more powerful.  It drills deep into your core.  It corrupts you in a way that you enjoy being a different person.

 

“You've gotten too big.  Promise me you won't get any bigger.  You're a little stinker, right?  You're never going to grow up!  I got you!  You're not getting away!”  It is different when a man says it.  If you are stuck in a hug, you could maybe get away from your mom, but you're never sneaking away from your dad.  And long after mom stops carrying you and makes you walk everywhere, well, the dads still want to pick you up.

 

It is not a chemical addiction, like breast milk, it is something cerebral.  It is an adaptation for the Amazons for something even they do not understand.  It is a voice that could dissipate a mob, train a soldier, get a man to jump over a trench, or rally a nation.  And the best part?

 

The mommies do not know what's going on.  This is just a daddy secret, shared among daddies.  Girls are aware there is some 'boy' thing, and they happily will use it as a threat if a little is being extra naughty, but if the mommies knew what men were capable of?  Societal breakdown.

 

Would they look at their husbands the same way?  Would they be jealous?  Would they think their husbands had ever used it on them?  Would women want it to be used on them?

 

Plus, the littles.  If the littles knew, they would never trust themselves around an adult man again.  They would be angry too, once they thought of the problem for five minutes, but they would be scared of adult Amazon men.  If you think it is weird that men on Earth have a taboo against being at the park, imagine how much worse every mother's fear would be if the bad men only needed to be convincing with their words.  No one would ever talk to a stranger again.

 

On Amazonia, an adopting mother will never be your 'real' mom.  She never carried you in her womb.  She is just a stepmom.  You might love her just as much, maybe more if she brain fucks you and makes it sexual, but an adopted dad?  There are millions, tens of millions of people who have grown up with a man who is not their biological father, and neither they nor their dad know.  Any daddy can be your real daddy in a way your mommy can never be.  When an eleven-foot man picks you up and throws you on his shoulders, you will never see the world the same way ever again.

 

In the first few years of exploring Amazonia, it did not take Oliver's team long to realize that this was not just some weird coddling instinct for the big women.  There was evidence of a fecundity crisis, and maybe it was related, but there was far more going on.

 

At first, they thought littles were some sort of human cuckoos, tricking mommy's into raising their young, or maybe some broken reverse cuckoo situation, the nurturing instinct of the Amazon women gets triggered, and they steal the littles as if they were their real children.  The mommies even lactate!  Turning adults into babies was a biological phenomenon, whatever its origin was.

 

That does not explain the daddies!  And there were a lot of daddies.  Women could control littles with breast milk, a highly addictive substance that creates a bond between little and Amazon.  The Amazon males do not have breast milk, but they have just as much control over their littles as the mommy's.  If it was just hypnosis and toys and mind fuckery, how did the men get the instinct and desire to do this in the first place?  How did they coddle the littles before the technology was available?

 

It all clicked when Oliver heard 'The Voice' for the first time.  Oliver had been 'shopping' in a supermarket.  Same as Earth, with carts, aisles, the whole place the size of multiple football fields, and overly bright.  Milk in the back and the bread in the front.  Being in a store this large was not even a novel experience for Oliver, as he had a Costco membership.  People on Earth routinely visited stores where products were ten feet off the ground and the aisles stretched for half a mile.  Being in a supermarket would feel like the most normal part about Amazonia.

 

Today he was recording price changes to independently verify the Libertalia government's public data on inflation.  Normal spy stuff.  Oliver was not there to go grocery shopping; he did not even like to do that on Earth.  After a couple of miles of walking, he had found himself in an aisle with magazines.  While checking the headlines and topics for the stories of the day a twenty-seven-year-old lady quietly shuffled up behind him.  She was decently attractive, red hair with a blond streak, yellow flower dress.  She also had no sense of personal space.

 

“What'cha working on?” she whispered.  Her breath went straight into his ear.  It smelled of maple syrup.  Oliver's cart was empty, but he had a long shopping list with prices and numbers.

 

He steadied himself from jumping in shock and instead coolly replied, “I'm looking at the prices.”

 

This aisle was a quiet reprieve, almost secluded from the rest of the store.  She picked up a magazine, something bright and pink with a woman on it looking at the reader with a sexy smile.  She stared at the woman’s thick lipstick.  She began flipping through the pages, not reading but looking for glossy ads and pictures, and then just dropped the magazine.  It landed open on its spine, and a subscription card fell out and slid across the aisle.

 

Oliver stared at what she had done, and then looked at her.  She moved on over and picked up a magazine that said “Dollies.”  The front had a porcelain baby doll, with a big puffy black dress, long hair, lost empty eyes and tiny nose.

 

“For the Hardcore Doll Enthusiast!” the magazine read in bright red text below Dollies.  He could make out some of the article titles being advertised on the cover.

 

“… announces new baby wetting model coming this fall.”

“Tips for getting around the export ban!  Yamatoa-Girl dolls impossible to find?  We got the best ...”

 

She flipped the pages.  “Old!  Read this six months ago.”  She threw the magazine on the ground.  Actually threw it, not dropped, like the floor was now the trash bin.  Her eyes crossed as she looked at Oliver.  Her body shook and as she turned and looked around at the mountains of magazines, newspapers, and books.  Her wandering gaze stopped and locked in on one on the bottom shelf.

 

“Coloring ones!”

 

She tried to bend down to the coloring books, but instead her bar shoes slipped along the polished floor.  She started doing the splits sideways, and her butt was up directly aimed at Oliver's face.  Her bottom was huge, but the shape hung wrong right below the crotch.  It even smelled off.  She fell right on the offensive area, and then scooched to the coloring books along the bottom shelf.  She picked up the first book, tossed it behind her and then picked up a second with the exact same pictures.  She started flipping through it like she was skimming the articles.

 

Oliver picked up the first magazine she had thrown away.  He carefully undid the folding caused by her outrage and put it back on the shelf.  An actual little.  Not a real person, but a person who had been transformed into a baby.  He had seen them but had not talked to them or gotten close to them.  They scared him, like the condition was contagious.  He began to wonder if she would be a suitable candidate for the next phase.  They were working on some ideas for rehabilitation.  He reached down to pick up the next magazine, and as he stood back up, he heard something that froze him in place.

 

“YOUNG LADY” It was furious and strong.  It was a drill sergeant's command.

 

“YOU DO NOT RUN AWAY FROM ME WHEN WE ARE IN PUBLIC.”

 

It was not a mommy.  He had only seen littles with their mommies.  From afar.  This was a man.  He turned his head and was greeted with dad-core.  Slightly open white polo shirt exposing chest hairs that was tucked into jeans, light brown beard, and some signs of balding up top.  He had a full cart.  He must have run out of room and let the little out to walk on the promise she would be good.

 

Oliver realized he was holding a magazine that said 'Dollies' on it.  He looked down.  “Boys want to play with dolls too?  The future of the industry!”  There was a small picture of a thirty-year-old man, he had been dressed in the same flower dress as the lady sitting beside Oliver.  Oliver covered the picture with his hand, and slowly put it back on the shelf.  As the older man walked past him to his baby girl, every hair on his arms stood up.  It felt like the bombing mission.  He could hear the tone of the radar lock on his plane.

 

“You will never run away from daddy again.  Do you hear me.”  - The voice was turning on.  “I should spank you to lock that into your brain.”

 

“Yes, daddy.”

He picked up the young lady and began carrying her in his left arm.

 

“And no talking to strangers.”  He turned, aware of Oliver.

 

Do not talk to strangers.  Do not talk to strangers.  Fuck!  That was in his head!  The daddy looked at him, “Oh hello there, little one, are you lost too.  Did my girl try to make a new friend?”

 

Do not talk to strangers.  His hand was reaching for the emergency dimension shift.  He had to get out of here.

 

“Shy?  You can speak up, it's OK?” The tall man voiced concern.

 

He is not your real dad.  Fuck him.  Fuck this Steve or Bob or whatever his name is.  He can fuck my mom but that will not make him my real dad.

 

That... worked?  He could talk to a stranger again, “She seems to have made a mess of things.  In a few spots.  Children, right?”  He pointed to her diaper, and the coloring book on the ground.

 

“Oh.  Are you a dad too?”

 

“We're thinking of trying, but it's hard these days, she's not sure she wants to raise a child in this world.  You understand right?”  The lie came fast from Oliver, his composure restored.

 

“It's just the best, watching them grow up.  Every day is a treasure.  You get to see the world a new.”

 

Oliver had to push it, his mind was still a rebellious teen, he needed to say something ass-holeish, “Does she ever grow up?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“She's never going to tell you how her first date went, you're never going to help her move into her college dorm, you're never going to walk her down the aisle, you're never going to visit her in the maternity ward and meet your grandchildren.”

 

The man looked at his daughter and Oliver, and then back at the daughter.  “You wouldn't understand because you're not a dad.”  He pushed his cart with one hand and exited the aisle.  “Here, let's get to the restroom so I can get you cleaned up.”  The little girl dropped the coloring book she was holding into the cart and waved goodbye to Oliver from over her father's shoulder.

 

Do not talk to strangers.  The old man does not know shit about anything.  Fuck him.

 

When he had returned to the facility his whole team had gone over the footage.  The effect in recorded audio form was not as strong, but it was still there.  “Don't talk to strangers.”  They tried the recording on staff in other departments, and it worked.  They tested how to undo the conditioning, blasted a few interns as deep as it could go and saw how hard it was to get out of it.  They had discovered something important.

 

The big daddies had a superpower.

 

No wonder they easily built such powerful hypnosis toys, the toys were just emulating what they could do naturally.

 

Studying the voice became a top priority.

[codsterc10@msn.com]

Love it amazing job. I look forward to reading more to come 

[codsterc10@msn.com]

I have a bad feeling that if he is not careful in that store. He might get kidnapped. 

[TerranV]

Finally took the time to read this.

So good! I love the idea of "The Voice".

[Operational Systems]

This is my favorite regression scene in the book.  The next few chapters are shorter, and I'll post them Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday.

 

Chapter 6: Watch out cupid, stuck me with a sickness.

May 26th, 2020, Salinas, California - Earth

 

“Grace Finnigan-Wu, we are pleased to offer you an internship at the Institute for Extra-Dimensional Research.”

 

Howard Finnigan put the letter down again.  He had read the letter five times.  His daughter had her first real job.  An internship, but a real job that paid money at a place with respectability.  He handed the letter to her mother, who was sitting across the table.

 

“Why can't they get your name right.  Wu-Finnigan!  Same with your school, those letters drop my name completely.”  Mira Wu-Finnigan was sensitive about this.

 

Grace calmed her mother slightly, “I'm sure it's just a computer thing.  Anyway, back to the topic, I hope you know that this is a place with secrets, and so while you are free to ask me about my mood or generic questions about my fellow employees, I will not be talking about the details of what I do there.”

 

Mira went full tiger mode, “It better not interfere with your schoolwork.  School is the most important thing.  Then your job.”

 

“It's just for the summer, plus I'm only taking like one class, it'll be fine.” Grace replied.

 

Howard was still beaming, as such he did not realize he was about to correct his wife in front of his daughter, “Now, sometimes there are things more important than school.  Let her make her own choices.”

 

Mira's look was sharp, eyes and face firm and held for a few seconds, where she then excused herself.  Howard knew what he had just done, and he would pay for that later.  But for now, it was the happiest day he'd had in a long time, and nothing could take that away from him.

 

“What's with her sometimes?  This is important to me.  I get to work under Oliver Swift.”

 

“You met him?” Howard kept in his excitement.

 

“Just a few introductions.  He's shorter than I'd expect in real life.  Still has a cane.”

 

“Well, he might be an important name in our household, but he's just a regular guy to the rest of the planet.  Don't let him be bigger than he is to you.  You earned your spot there just as he did.”

 

Grace's dad was a war nut.  All dads are.  His choice was the D-war.  He had been bitten by something when Grace was still in high school.  Some dads got into the Civil War, others into World War Two, even a few lost souls fall in love with the Falklands campaign.  Her dad knew the names of all hundred bombers that launched the attack on Terra.  He had the 8k Blu-ray of “Necessary Evil”.  He was building a model of that plane in a bottle.  She wondered if he were just excited, she would be working with the man who pushed the button.

 

“School is very important to your mother.” Howard softly added, unsure if it needed to be said.

 

“You think I don't pick that up?  She's a tigress.  Pushed me my whole life.  Had to get into STEM too, not literature or whatever.  I barely got into Polytechnic.  Is this just an Asian thing?”

 

“No, that's not it at all.  She takes after your grandmother sometimes, but it's not like that.”

 

“I just want to live a normal life, without pressure.  Get a normal degree, get a normal job, raise a normal child.  She wants me to be perfect, better than her, and I just don't know why.”

 

Howard sighed, OK fine, he'll walk her through it.  She's old enough for this. “What's your mom's birthday?”

 

“May twenty-fifth, nineteen seventy-eight?  We just had her forty first.” Grace answered.

 

“And your birthday?” Howard continued.

 

“August second, two thousand and one.”

 

“Your mom was a grad student at Caltech when I met her.  We both wanted to try this new online dating thing.  Your mom just wants you to have opportunities she never had.”

 

For the first time in her life, Grace thought nine months backwards from her birthday and put the date into context of her parents’ lives, now understanding what that meant as an adult.  Thanksgiving, two thousand?   Her parents’ anniversary was in January.  Her mom would have been at the start of her master’s when she was pregnant.

 

The timeline for mom's graduate education did not line up right.  Grace had a memory of being there when her mother finished grad school.  And it was not Caltech.  It was something local.  She was four in the memory.  Mom had put her life on pause for five years and settled for something less.

 

“I guess I had never thought of what she gave up.  I'm sorry if she feels I was a burden.”  Grace wondered if she would be strong enough to do that.  Quit school to raise a child.

 

Howard assuaged her, “No, don't ever think that.  She loves you more than anything, but there can be things more important than what we want.  School is important for your mother, and you're going to have to make a choice between your career and what your family wants from you.  All I want is for you to be happy with whatever choice you make.”

 

Grace hugged her father, it was the answer she wanted to hear, it was her choice.  “I'll see if I can't get Captain Swift to sign a picture for you.”

 

 *  *  *

June 1st, 2020, Templeton, California - Earth

 

The facility was far from the city.  It was about a forty-five-minute drive for Grace into an industrial sector.  It looked like an abandoned school, except the fences were huge.  Easily twenty feet tall.  Cameras were everywhere.

 

Grace had dressed professionally.  Subtle makeup, nails professionally trimmed, hairstyle which was exactly the right length to convey the idea of sexy hair but combed and curled in a way that conveyed some authority or control.  She wore a blazer and an aquamarine undershirt.  Her heels were a bit too long, but she walked slowly and made it work.

 

Naomi was her direct superior, and above her was Mr. Swift.  Naomi had a dark complexion, and she wore a pink, white blouse, and long professional skirt.  Appropriate for the summer heat.  She had taken Grace around, introduced her to everyone, gotten her through orientation and security procedures.  Even took a picture and got her a badge printed.  This was work, as in real work, not the Dairy Queen job she worked one summer.  It was nothing like she imagined.  It felt like school but better.  Everything done here was important.  Nothing she did at school mattered.  Agency – adulting - was addictive.

 

Naomi put the forms Grace had signed into a large manila folder.  The two relaxed over their lunch.  She had said it qualified as a working lunch, as Grace was technically filling out paperwork while the two ate, but the forms were not difficult to fill out.  It felt like the system wanted everyone to bend the rules in a way you could not do in school.  That wasn't the case, Naomi was using it as an opportunity to judge Grace's temperament, see her assessment of the facility and people, and judge Grace's emotional stability.

 

“I'm so glad you've agreed to join the experiment and testing division.  The work here is some of the most important.”  Naomi started.

 

Grace was not sure, “Will I just spend most of my time eating exotic fruits?”

 

Naomi chuckled.  Yes, there was that.  There was a watermelon analog they had just discovered that was the size of a person.  It grows like a weed.  It would be a perfect sustainable crop for areas prone to droughts.

 

“The foods and entertainment and all that, that's all important.  Beethoven's tenth is fantastic.  I've had a chance to eat dodo-bird.  We are actually more interested in techniques and best practices.  Getting past our cultural blinders.  Not just technology exchange but social exchange.  Ideas.  Philosophy.  Your timing joining us is perfect.  We've just discovered this new pedagogical technique we think would help revolutionize education forever.”

 

When Grace thought of pedagogy she thought of teaching children, not an adult like herself.  “You know I'm in college, right?  I'm not sure how useful I can be to something like that.”

 

“Oh yes, of course, that's actually why we wanted you.  You see, we can tell you're a smart one.  You didn't give us your eSs Aye Tee or Aye Cee Tee scores, but we found them.  And your grades.  You're struggling a bit in school, right?”  Naomi was not subtle with the question.

 

“That's... OK, that's a bit personal.  The - hell - are you guys doing here?” Grace had not expected her new employer to spy on her life.

 

“Now hold on, just relax.  It's fine, you're perfect for this.  We know how to get you back to where you were.  You don't have to spend hours each night studying.  What if there was a way to just put the knowledge directly into your brain?  You wouldn't forget it.”  Naomi started her pitch.

 

Like, neuralink?  Wasn't that illegal?  “I'd very much like that.”

 

“OK so the idea here is that some people are visual learners.”

 

“Yes, my whole life I've heard this.  Different methods of teaching.  It's stupid.”  She was so over this nonsense.  Play with this toy.  Build a graph.  Visualize!  The whole education system was in love with looking at stuff.  Even in college it was all graphics and analogies, and it was pissing her off.  Just show the equation.  Shut up and calculate.

 

“You're not a visual learner.  In fact, many people aren't visual learners.  You don't learn by visualizing; you learn by thinking the words in your head.  You read by thinking about the words in your head.  Humans are great aural learners.  Think how much more you get from a podcast than a TV show.  Think how easy it is to have a lecture going on in the background as you work on a paper.  We want a talented aural listener.”  Naomi did not say, your YouTube and iTunes subscriptions are also available to us as an employer and helpful to us in the hiring decision.

 

Now Grace was curious.  She did listen to podcasts.  Serious ones.  She would often put a video on of just a person talking for an hour.  She would even close her eyes in class and just listen to the teacher, never taking notes.

 

Grace had just learned something about herself, and more than that, they were offering her a super charged version of how she liked to learn.  Put the knowledge directly into her brain.  Yes.  Fuck yes!  First day at the top-secret lab and she was already getting a superpower.

 

“Can I choose what I learn?”  She was thinking of the physics class she was taking.  Nuclear Concepts.  It was going to break her.  The teacher was like eighty.  He spent his time talking about Chernobyl and Three Mile Island and almost nothing on the material.  Each class was getting harder.  It did not help it was a summer class either.  They met twice a week for three hours, and she never wanted to go.

 

Naomi consented, “It's your head, so I don't see why not.  Go ahead and bring some stuff you'd like to learn, and we'll see how it goes.”

 

* * *

 

Grace was in an auditorium.  Not too big, just a hundred seats and a small stage, but she was the only one in the room.  A creak of the chair or a slap on her writing pad would echo the room more than once.  The lights were distant above her and fading yellow-brown-orange.  The chairs on other rows had been covered with white sheets, which made the room have a smell like an unused shower curtain.  She was a kid again in her head even though she had last been in an auditorium like this just a couple years ago.

 

The curtain had been drawn, its ugly blue green obscuring the stage.  She was told to sit nicely in the front row.  The noise to expect would sound weird, both louder and deeper than a normal human range.  Someone would start reading from behind the curtain, and she would just need to listen.  She was given a glass of water, pen, paper, and her boss took away her phone.

 

Grace had been waiting for a few minutes and started to get worried.  She had not been this long without a phone in ages.  Being forced to sit patiently with just her own thoughts for minutes was unnatural.  Like being in time out.  Like being at the store or the doctor's office and needing to wait on an adult to finish paying.

 

As she took another sip of her water, she heard it.

 

“I'm sorry, this is.  I can't do this. I can't read this.”

 

It was loud.  A man's voice.  Like her grandpa.  Aged, distinct, a slight hoarse like from a bit of an old smoking habit.  She heard Naomi's voice as well, but her boss's words were not distinct behind the curtain.

 

“I want to cooperate.”

 

There was some more talking from Naomi.

 

“I want to cooperate, what I mean is I can't pronounce this word.”

 

“Nu-clear”

 

“Nuc-u-lar”

 

“Nuke u lar.  Is the whole book going to be like this?”

 

“OK I'll pronounce it right.  I'll be fine.  I'll go slowly.”

 

She saw Naomi hurry out the front of the curtain, “Just a slight hick up.  You doing OK?”

 

Grace nodded.

 

“Well, we're just going to read the first chapter.  I'm sure you've read that before, but we want to start from a clean fresh slate.”

 

She had not read the first chapter yet.  The class was in the second week but she kind of did not give a fuck about going anymore.

 

The man's voice came back.  “OK, well, we'll start with chapter one.  Skip all this stuff at the front.  Chapter one: 'Radiation History to the Present – Understanding the Discovery of the Neutron.'”

The auditorium lights were dimming.  She had a memory of sitting in elementary school watching a puppet performance.  Something involving Aladdin or Ali Babba.  It was not like the movie though, more direct from the original story.  Back then the puppeteer's voice had echoed in a room just like this was now.

 

“I'm sorry, before we begin.  Um, hello.”

The curtain was talking with her.  Was she supposed to talk back?  She had not received instructions.

 

“Hey there?”

 

“I'm ... Mr. … Powell.  It is a pleasure to be your um... reader, today.  I'd like to know your name.”

 

“I'm Grace.”

 

“Hello Grace, but it helps if I have your family name, I need to see you as a full person not just a first name.”

 

She paused, this was a bit sensitive, “I'm Grace Wu-Finnigan.”

 

“I'm not from around here, you're the first Wu-Fin I've ever met.  Is that a common name?”

 

“No, my parents hyphenated it.”

 

“Ahh like nobility!  You're a princess.  From the House of Wu and the House of Finnigan.”

 

“No... it's not like that at all.  My dad is Howard Finnigan, and my mother is Mira Wu-Finnigan, and I have both last names.”

 

“What an unusual people.  I'm not from around here, Ms. Finnigan, and I think that's a bit too much for me to remember.  You should just go by your daddy's name, as it was the first gift, he ever gave you.  It sounds so much nicer.  Grace Finnigan.”

 

It was nicer.  She had done it a couple times for school applications.  She did not trust having an Asian last name with the California schools.  That was not the real reason she had done it, though, right?  She just liked her dad more, and she thought it was a bit cunty that her mom made him combine names.  She wanted to be daddy's little princess and she hated her mom for not letting her be.

 

Well not hate.

 

She was almost nineteen now, she could probably change it legally.  Tomorrow perhaps.  Grace Finnigan.  Until she got married and took her husband's name like a good wife should.

 

Oliver Swift had left his suit jacket in his office, but still had a white collared shirt and tie when he popped into the control room.  The auditorium was far from the main parts of the facility, and his cane had slowed him down.  He watched the exchange on the monitors, the giant behind the curtain, the young lady in the auditorium.  Artificial intelligence was transcribing the words within seconds of being spoken and outputting it as white text on a layer above each person.

 

“He could be using the voice right now and we would not have any idea.  Do we?”  Oliver spoke his concern.

 

The one technician handling the computers shrugged, “We need more data before the software can guess if it's being done in real time.”  Oliver instead turned to his colleague.

 

“Naomi.  This is dangerous.”

 

“She's a grown woman, she can handle this.  She signed up for this, we all did,” Naomi calmly replied.

 

“No, I mean, giving an Amazon a textbook on nuclear physics?  You know they don't have the bomb, right?  This guy could go and jumpstart the Manhattan project if we send him back.”

 

“He can't even pronounce nuclear!  He has no idea what he's reading. I doubt anything will stick.  Grace at least has the background from a year of schooling to get this.”

 

The white text started to shift, indicating the giant was reading from the book:

 

“We are going to retrace Chadwick's discovery of the neutron.”

 

“In eighteen ninety-seven it became possible to determine the mass to charge ratio of the electron...”  The curtain read through the first page.

 

The giant was even improvising at times, “Alpha-Beta-Gamma, the names are based on their penetration.  Just like your Aye-Bee-Cees!  Right Grace?”

 

“Yes.”  It was important to involve the audience.

 

Grace was completely zonked out on the monitor.  At times it looked like she was trying to write on the paper.  “And this is what makes a gamma ray a gamma ray, otherwise it is a photon.  A gamma ray is like a grown-up photon.”

 

And then, “Oh Grace!  I wish I could show you this picture here.  Maybe next time we'll let you see the pictures.  The hydrogen and the polonium experiment.  There's this ionization chamber.”

 

She didn't need to see the book to see the picture.  She had opened it at least once, she remembered it.  She had only seen it for a fraction of a second, but daddy's voice had made her remember.  Like reading the instructions for assembling furniture, dads only need to glance at it once and they could build it.

 

“With the original theories, the gamma ray was predicted to need 'fifty times ten to six' electron volts.  And how much is that, Grace?”

 

“Fifty Million!”  She was completely into the story.

 

“Mr. Polonium was releasing his alpha rays to his friend Mr. Beryllium.  Oh, look there's a note to the side.  It says 'Be' - open parenthesis, 'eNn', comma, two 'eNn' close parenthesis.  Can you remember Ms. Finnigan?  I wish I could show you the book so you can help me read it.  It's special math writing.  The book says you'll learn more of how to write it as you go along.”

 

“One neutron goes in, and two neutrons go out!”  Was that from the class?  Hadn't she fallen asleep in the second half of the first class when this was covered?  One fish, two fish, polonium fish, beryllium fish.  So easy a child could remember it.

 

“Oh, how exciting.  One neutron goes in, and two neutrons go out.  Grace you're a smart little girl.”

 

This went on, reading the chapter was slow, but the giant kept at it for an hour.  The monitoring room was starting to relax.  Oliver had his eyes on Grace though.  Something was wrong.  She was starting to wiggle in her seat.  Too much exposure to the voice?

 

Mr. Powell was getting into it at this point, reading a quote “The mass defect of the 'Cee thirteen' nucleus is known both from data supplied by measurements of the artificial disintegration of boron 'bee ten' and from observations of the band spectrum of carbon; it is about ten by ten to the sixth electron volts.  The mass defect of 'bee nine' is not known, but the assumption that zero will give a maximum value for the possible change of energy in the reaction: 'bee nine' plus alpha to 'cee thirteen' plus quantum.”

Mr. Powell paused “I think a quantum here is supposed to be a photon, or a gamma ray?  What a silly word to describe a photon.  'On this assumption it follows that the energy of the quantum emitted in such a reaction cannot be greater than about fourteen times ten to the sixth electron volts.'  Grace, you're such a tiny little quantum there, all squirming.  Are you a tiny little alpha or a middling beta or a big girl gamma ray?”

 

Oliver was concerned, “We should get her out of there.  He's regressing.”

 

Naomi shook her head, “No, I think he's addressing something difficult here.  He needs her to see you can express mass and energy as the same thing.”

 

Her head popped up, “I get it!  The conservation of energy!  You have a big particle, and you smash it with a fast tiny one, and then you have a different big particle and a different one spin off.  The mass of nucleus one plus the mass of nucleus two needs to equal the mass of the two spin offs plus the energy transfer.”

 

“Yes, you can express the mass of the two nuclei in terms of the initial and final energy.  'Eee' equals”

 

“Mass times 'Cee' squared.  We can just use energy to describe these systems!”

 

They kept going, page after page, her daddy reading to her, her excitement and movements becoming more exuberant as the story continued.

 

“If there were to be a neutron, which was as big as a proton, then Mr. Beryllium plus his little alpha particle, become Carbon twelve and a neutron.  Just like a mommy and a daddy!”

 

Grace was excited, “Both reactions are balanced in terms of mass!  Do you see that daddy?  If you do the full reaction and calculate the energy.  Mr. Que made everything equal, just like you said.  Ignore the starting kinetics because atoms don't really move.  You separate out the energy and there's an inequality.  The velocity for the neutron is...?”

 

“Four times ten to the nine centimeters per second.”  The wiggling stopped.  She was so excited.

 

Oliver saw the word thirty seconds too late, “We're pulling her.  Now!  End it!”

 

“You know you're a special little girl.  I bet you need your daddy to read to you every night.  Do you still wet the bed when there's no one to read to you Grace?  It almost looks like you had an accident down there.”  The lights came on.  Naomi had raced to shut down Mr. Powell; the technician had run to get Grace.  She was crying.  In the confusion she must have spilled her drink.  Her notes were a mess.

 

They got her some medical garb for her pants, and she drove home in them.  She told them she was fine enough to drive after just a couple hours.  Her eyes had been vacant for the first.  She wanted Daddy to finish the story.  They told her she was brave, that she could take time off, but she wasn't sure why.  Everything was great.  She loved her job.  She would be back tomorrow.

 

That night she read the first chapter of the book by herself, getting up to the part Mr. Powell had stopped.  It was like she had memorized it; she could read every word out loud.  She had never seen the text but knew every word, every shape, every picture, just as he had described it.  And then, chapter two.  She was not reading in Mr. Powell's voice anymore.  She was reading in her own.  She struggled, slowly going through each word, mumbling, having to look up what the equations meant.  It was not like chapter one.  She cried and went to sleep.  She left the lights on, and the book fell to the floor from her bed.

 

When she woke up, she knew she had wet herself.  She still had class today.  She usually dressed up, but today she would wear something girly.  It was summer, it was great to wear something a bit revealing.  She spent longer cleaning herself in the morning, and got her sheets cleaned in the laundry.  Class was at eight, but she had woken up at five without prompting.  She had not been up without an alarm clock that early since she was nine.  She was the first in the classroom.

 

Dr. Short was not eighty.  He was sixty-six.  He worked summers because his wife had left him a few years ago and he needed to fill the days.  She had divorced him just after his son had gone to college.  Grace had never noticed how vibrant and strong he looked.  Well, for an old guy.  She put her butt right in the front row and stared at him.   Bald up top, white along the edges and back.  Glasses were not too thick and lacked a frame on the bottom of the lenses.  The old man had a clean face.  Today he wore a long blue sports jacket with a striped blue and white shirt.  He probably shopped at JC Penny's.

 

Grace took in every word.  The classroom was just like Mr. Powell again.  She laughed at his jokes about Three Mile Island.  She raised her hand to ask questions.  When everyone left, she went up to him.

 

“Doctor Short, I was having some trouble with the reading, I was wondering if you had a few minutes to just explain some of the harder parts.  Maybe in your office?”

 

Forty years teaching and it had finally happened.  Why now?  Why not twenty years ago?  Decades of seeing lesser men fall for this.  Getting fired.  Losing marriages.  He knew what was happening.  The student had a crush on him.  Not just any student, his student.

 

He was sixty-six.  Would they fire him?  Standards are different now, right?  Let's just play the game, maybe nothing will come of it, have a bit of summer fun.  Summer school doesn't count right?

 

“Of course, Ms. Wu, I'd be happy to help you with anything.”

 

He had known Ms. Wu a long time ago.  He did not want to say Grace looked like her, because that felt like saying all Asian gals looked alike.  Grace's hair was emphasized sexy, rare for school and rarer for summer school.  She carried herself well in heels regardless.

 

“It's Ms. Finnigan now.  I'm going by just my dad's name now.” `   

 

They chatted about the chapter in his office.  He made her a small book with the equations to reference, and helped walk her through why they are to be used.  It was not the same as Mr. Powell, but it was close enough.  When she got home, she would turn on a Feynman lecture and masturbate as she watched the great man discuss the finer secrets of the universe.

She had started to need night protection; the wetting was getting worse.  She did not tell anyone at work, but in some sense, she did not think it was that big a deal.  She would sometimes call her dad just before bed.  She told him that things were going well at work.  She told him that she had met a guy, and things were going serious, but he was a bit older and more responsible than her last dates.  She did not know how to tell him about the name change.  Or the diapers.  She felt talking to her dad was helping.

 

Work was fine, just not as cool as on her first day.  They had her tasting fruit now.  “This apple tastes like a grape” “This watermelon tastes like a watermelon” They would not let her see Mr. Powell, though she had inquired when they'd get to chapter two.

 

The need to be read to was getting worse.  She needed the voice.  She needed someone to read to her.  She started putting out classifieds.  “Bakersfield area - Need an older man to read to me before bedtime.  REAL SCIENCE background required!  NO SOCIAL SCIENTISTS”

 

It was an open invitation for perverts.  She would hand them her physics book and that weirded them out.  Some tried, but it was not the same.  Most just thought she was crazy.  Who gets off on wanting nuclear physics read to them?  Plus, so few of them actually knew how to pronounce the words or explain the equations.  Why was dating so hard?

 

It was in late July she decided to let the one man who had both the experience and knowledge to help her, actually help her.

 

“Doctor Short.  I have a problem.”  She plopped into a chair in his office, like she owned the room.

 

“I've been helping you a bit in these after class sessions, I don't know if it's fair to the other students Grace.”  He liked to do that, just pretend he was oblivious, make it her decision.

 

“Charles, what I'm about to tell you does not leave this room, OK?”

 

He was sixty-six years old, he had no wife, his son did not talk to him, and his work colleagues hated him.  Grace was the only person he could call a friend.  Maybe more than that.  He looked around his office and nodded.  “I can keep a secret.”

 

“I have a job at I.E.D.R as a research assistant.  Mostly I do boring things like taste apples from other dimensions and rate them for flavor.”

 

“That sounds important” He kept a straight face.  Stay in school kid, get yourself a real job.

 

“Well, one day they wanted to test this thing, it was some new learning process, and they would put knowledge directly into my brain.  Something went wrong.”

 

Charles Short was well aware of I.E.D.R.  They were huge.  Almost unlimited budget.  Lots of students had worked there, or wanted to work there, and the teachers too.  He had a less civil opinion of the place.  Stealing science from the multiverse was cheating!  This universe was already infinite, we did not need a million infinities.  Still, he had not heard of anything bad happening from them.  Except the war with Nietzscheans.  That was kind of bad.

 

“Um... something got in my head here, and” She was starting to sniffle, “this is stupid, but I can't go to bed at night unless I have someone read physics to me.”

 

“What?”  That is the dumbest come on he had ever heard.

 

“I've gone through every Feynman lecture and they're not working anymore.  I put out ads for men to come and read to me.  Sometimes I have to have sex with them first, but that's the price of science.  I need a real man who can read an actual physics paper and help me get to bed.”

 

“Look, Grace, if you want to just have sex that's fine, but this is a bit too kinky for me.”

 

“No, you don't understand, if I go a night without my daddy reading to me, I literally wet the bed.  And it gets worse.  I've been up for two days straight.  I'm losing it.  Please, just read me anything.  I don't care if it's Newton's laws, I need a man to read to me.”

 

He looked at her.  Shit, he did not want to admit it, but Ms. Finnigan was wearing a protective garment down below.  He had seen it at one point.  Had she flashed him?

 

“Look, this is enough.  I'm done.  You want to do some kinky daddy fetish thing, get it the fuck out of my office.  I'm not talking to you for the rest of the semester.  In fact, here.  You get an Aye.  Leave and don't come back.  I don't want to deal with this.  I'm never teaching you anything ever again.  Fuck!  This is why teachers and students don't make good partners.”

 

She cried as she ran out, his eyes spotting a flash of elastic white and teal was visible above the edge of her pants.  Charles sat for several minutes, thinking about that plastic-cloth line over and over.  He went home frustrated.  Horny in the brain.  He thought about taking Viagra so he could masturbate.  He decided against it.  Who gets off on diapers?

 

When Grace next arrived at the institute, she wore the same outfit she had worn to the first day of work.  It was a bit impractical for watermelon eating, but she wanted to look her best when she met Mr. Swift again.  They were alone in his office.

 

“Sir, I should have come forward sooner and let you know.  It just took me a while to realize what had changed and why it needed to be fixed.”

 

“I want you to know that Commander Powell wasn't aware of what he was doing.  We're only starting to scratch the surface of what this voice thing is.  We're helping him come to terms with who he is and how to fix him.  I do wish you had come forward sooner, I think it might have helped with his progress.”

 

Commander?  He was Mr. Powell last time.

 

“Am I going to be fired for this?”  Grace did not want to be fired from her first job.  Her first real job.

 

“Why?  We exposed you to a dangerous activity, and you were damaged by it.  How is that your fault?  It's mine.  I think you and the Commander should have a nice chat.”

 

His look got serious, and tone dropped the sympathy he had shown, “I don't care about the grape apples or the bananas.  This is an actual secret.  What we're about to show you, it does not leave this facility.  No one can know what we're dealing with here, but I think if you met him, you could convince him to undo whatever he did to you.  He's better now.”

 

Swift went over the basics of Amazons.  They come from another dimension.  They are ten feet tall.  They would take adults and force them to be babies.  That was actually about it.  All the other stuff did not need to be gotten into.

 

He brought her outside to Commander Powell.  He was seated far in the courtyard at the bench near the light.  He was dressed in a blue uniform, and his chest had metals that brightly reflected afternoon sunlight.  As Grace and Mr. Swift got closer, it became possible for her mind to comprehend this man was huge, in a way seeing him from across the courtyard had not.  He loomed over her at twice her height.  Her heart was throbbing, and some sweat was forming as she got closer.

 

“Ms. Finnigan, I'm happy to see you again.  They told me that I hurt you and I'm sorry about that.”  He stood up and reached his large hand out and down.

 

He smiled, “It's so weird seeing you big like this.  Last time we met you were like five feet tall, and now we're close to the same height.  You're only a couple inches shorter than me!”

 

She looked at Oliver and then at Powell.  The commander lacked the gravitas that she had originally associated with the voice.  He was a bit broken, weak, almost squeaky.  Like a boy.  He looked younger than she had imagined him, not a grandpa, but someone maybe a decade older than she.  Seeing him shrunk in this way gave her the confidence to deal with the situation, as equal adults.

 

Oliver reminded him, “Now, we only made you think you were five foot eleven.  You're actually still.”  Oliver pointed up.

“Oh right.  Now, let me see if I can't go over the list of changes they said they think I did to you.  Starting with your name.”

 

Hastily she shrugged it off, “I like Ms. Finnigan.  I legally changed it.”  She turned to Oliver.  “Mr. Swift, do you mind if we have some privacy, I'd like to discuss with Mister, sorry, Commander Powell what exactly I need him to do for me.  It's the stuff in my head after all, and it's a bit personal.”

 

Oliver wasn't sure he liked that, but she did have a point.  An adult should be able to decide what goes in or out of her own head.  “Certainly, I'll be at the doors if you need anything.”

 

Oliver monitored from a distance.  This was it.  Can you trust an Amazon?  Grace was showing tremendous courage in going into the lion’s den again.  He watched them talk.  She must have been explaining what she wanted.  She seemed to almost shrink and cry at times.  Powell would just pat her head.  He said something, it looked like a twenty, thirty second speech, Grace stood up and hugged him, started making her way back.  Then she stopped, rushed back, and stood in front of him.  Something was being exchanged.  Talked about?  He had his hands over her head, cupping her ears.  This talk was long, maybe even a couple minutes.

 

Weird.

 

Grace started coming back first.  She was playing with her phone.  His phone beeped.  He checked the e-mail of habit.

 

“He's faking it.”  G. Finnigan (attachment)

Just one word in the e-mail - Neutrons, and a wave file attachment.

 

Oliver understood, “Ms. Finnigan, was it everything you needed?”

 

“And more.  He said I didn't have daddy issues, I had mommy issues,” She smiled at that, like she was going to laugh but did not.

 

“How is that better?”

 

“Because I actually do have issues with my mother.  I think I wanted to date Dr. Short because he was old enough to be her dad, not mine.  I'm jealous my dad loves my mom more than me.  I'm sick of the fact she raised me like a tiger mom, forcing me to do four hours of homework a night, pushing me into science, and into the job she wanted.  Powell helped me realize all of this attachment was just lashing out at her, and that I would be a great mother some day because I had learned how not to do it.”

 

Oliver was unsure whether that was an improvement.  Maybe?  It was her brain.  “And the e-mail?”

 

“I'm ready to do more than just eat watermelon.”

 

“You're reporting directly to me starting Monday.  This is a full-time position.  Class seven salary.  Go get some rest, you're stepping into a much larger world.”

 

Grace smiled, a real job!  She was not even twenty yet!  The pay would be good enough to drop out of school.  That would put her mother on complete tilt.  Maybe she might take a class here or there, just to learn something, but of the hundred thousand worlds, ninety-nine thousand of them did not give a fuck where she got her degree.

 

At this point Commander Powell came up behind them.  “I'm just glad I was able to help.  I'm ready to go back.”

 

Oliver looked at the man, “Who said you could leave?”

 

The giant backed up confused, “I thought I was going back.  You said you were happy with my progress.”

 

“No.  I think we'll start with a nine for a few hours, gives us the option to bump up to a ten if we're not happy with how you're going.  You remember nine, Mister Powell?”  He would hate to use the chair here, but he was running out of options.  Maybe they had to actually make him regular sized physically, and not just in his head?  They could even go smaller if that is what it took.