Five: Idyll

 

 

Airborne over the State of Tennessee

Sunday

 

"It really wasn't difficult to find you," Steve said to Ellie. He had twisted in his seat to face her, leaving the airplane flying on autopilot. Ellie had folded her legs as neatly as the space would allow and seated herself on the deck with her back to the front passenger door, leaning her head and shoulders into the cockpit, her hand touching Steve's right arm. The Air Force captain who had intruded into Ellie's escape sat in the co-pilots chair, observing the displays illuminating the cockpit.

"My first advantage was that Lang used a cellular phone," he continued. "After I escaped from New York I started calling some of my people to help. I first contacted someone I'll call Frank, who's been a computer programmer for over twenty years. I asked him to hack into the telephone company's computers. He found one cellular phone used Saturday afternoon in Poughkeepsie that had a non-New York area code in its security code. He filtered the telephone numbers that phone had been used to call. One of the numbers had area code 404 and a prefix number for North Druid Hills--Turner's number at the Centers for Disease Control in Atlanta. The others were Government use only, with area code 801--Utah."

Steve straightened in his seat and stretched his shoulders. In the dim light of the touch switches embedded in the arm of his chair Ellie could see his eyes were red and shadowed and his face was drawn with fatigue. She smiled and nodded for him to continue.

"Frank went a little further and found the numbers Turner called after talking to Lang. That guy called everywhere from New Hampshire to Hawaii. Then he checked the eleven numbers Turner called belonging to individual names and found that all of them contacted the Human Systems Center at Brooks Air Force Base--the department responsible for arranging housing on base. Everyone was congregating there after talking to Turner, and he was called in on you. Ergo, you were being taken to Brooks."

Douglas snorted derisively. "Some secrecy," she muttered. Steve gave her his lopsided grin.

"The secrecy thing also worked in my favor," he said. "No offense, Captain, but one thing you people in the military seem to forget is when you make something top-top-secret the people who could've prevented actions like mine are kept in the dark, too. In fact I was counting on no increased security at the only P-5 treatment lab at Brooks, which was on the main floor of the Armstrong lab building. Electronic security and the labs' original design intention were supposed to keep Ellie's presence there secret. If Turner had increased security--say, by requesting Air Police to patrol the building twenty four hours a day--he would have cut off my rescue attempt at the start, and possibly compromised keeping the secret because he would need help from somebody outside the immediate circle he'd drawn. Thus, all I needed to do was defeat the electronics--with a pass card I borrowed from one of the scientists and a little recorder to give them an image of Ellie on their monitors when she really wasn't there--and get her out the door."

Douglas nodded her understanding. She snorted again, shook her head, and gave Steve a smile of grudging respect.

"The one thing I hadn't counted on was the size of the hatch they apparently used to get you in there in the first place, Ellie," he said, turning and smiling up in apology at her. "I had a pretty good idea just how much you might have grown since I was with you last and that door wouldn't do the job. So, I improvised with a rubbish fire and walked you out the front to some borrowed transportation."

"You really thought it out," Douglas said. "You've got guts."

It was Steve's turn to snort. "Right now, Captain, I could shit through a screen door without hitting the wire."

Douglas looked at Steve and burst into a fit of semi-hysterical chortling. She shook her head again.

"So," she said softly, her humor subsided, "what happens to me?"

Steve's expression grew amused. "What do you think will happen to you? I'll have you taken back to San Antonio, of course, or wherever else you wish to go. I don't intend to have 'kidnapper' stuck behind my name. I already sent a message to my airfield to have Special Two warmed up and ready to go when you get there. What happens to you after that I can only guess."

"You sent a message? How? I didn't hear you talk on a radio at all since we took off," Douglas asked. Steve motioned to what Douglas had first taken to be a handrest near the left arm of his seat. She noticed the five buttons arranged across its surface.

"It's a keyboard," Steve said. "Works on much the same principle as the keyboards made for people with serious handicaps. With practice you can type messages as easily with this as a full-size keyboard. I sent an e-mail to my people at the airport telling them to fly Special Two in to my private strip to take you back."

"You just going to let me go? Just like that?" Douglas asked.

"It's just like Steve said, Meredith," Ellie said. "I don't want to hurt you, or anybody. Neither does Steve."

Douglas looked up sharply at Ellie's use of her name. She could see the giant woman--who actually looked bigger now than she did an hour ago--was utterly earnest. So was Steve.

"I told you, Captain, I'm no kidnapper," Steve said. "Nor a terrorist, a foreign agent or a little green man from Mars in disguise. Neither is Ellie." He rubbed the giant hand on his arm. "Unfortunately, somebody thinks we’re the spearhead of some contagion that threatens the country. I'm not going to let some government sphincter-boy lock Ellie or me away. In fact, I think it would be to your advantage to get a little concerned about what they're going to do to you when you return."

Ellie's expression became sad.

"I'm sorry," she said to Douglas. "I'm really sorry. I seem to be screwing up the lives of everyone I touch."

"No you're not," Steve said firmly, gripping Ellie's hand. Douglas was startled to see tears forming in Ellie's eyes. This woman was so goddamned big she filled all the available space in the cockpit yet she seemed to need more comforting than Douglas herself. Douglas saw pain in Steve's eyes, too.

"I think it's safe to say that all we want, Captain Douglas, is to be left alone," Steve said after clearing his throat. Ellie nodded vigorously.

Douglas looked from one to the other, and inclined her head.

"It seems I've caused some problems, too," Douglas said slowly. "All right. I think I understand, at least a little." She ran her hand through her hair. Steve smiled and turned back to the airplane's controls.

"It's too bad though," she said suddenly. "This would make one pisser barracks story. You could sell the rights to the X-Files and make a fortune."

"X-Files?" Steve asked in a puzzled tone.

"That's fiction. I'm not," Ellie replied. Douglas began chuckling softly until she felt the lightest of touches. She turned to see two impossibly long fingers belonging to a hand the size of a serving platter on her left shoulder.

"Thank you," Ellie said softly.

 

Steve suddenly straightened in his seat and rubbed his face. He pushed forward on the airplane's control handgrip and the airplane began to descend from its extraordinary cruising altitude of one hundred ten thousand feet--descending very rapidly, to Douglas' mind.

"We're a few minutes from landing. Want to see it, Captain?"

"Hell yes," Douglas replied. The airplane continued to drop. When Douglas saw the altimeter readout reach forty thousand feet she observed Steve thumb two switches on his seat arms. New symbols began to parade across the cockpit images.

"What's that?"

"Other traffic," Steve replied. "I'm in active stealth mode, remember? No anticollision lights. I don't want to bang into something up here."

He looked all around, smiling brightly at Ellie sitting behind him, peering between his legs, looking around Douglas at the tiny, moving bullseyes decorating the walls.

"One, two, three, four--good," he said. "Nothing near us. Okay, here's the final."

Douglas looked at the clear real-time image projected on the blank wall in front of her and saw only darkness. She felt the airplane's nose pitch down even more steeply as Steve worked the controls, pulling back on the throttle and working the control grip on his chair.

"I, ah, don’t see any airfield down there," Douglas offered.

"It's there," Steve answered.

"Where are the lights?"

"There." Steve pointed. Douglas squinted to see one or two very small lights off to the right. Utter darkness filled the view in front of the aircraft.

"Don't tell me," she said, her voice rising one octave. She swallowed to ease the constriction in her throat. "You don't have landing lights at you private airstrip."

"Yes we do, but I don't need them for this airplane. Watch and see."

The symbology running across the image suddenly changed. A single elongated box appeared, surrounded by rapidly scrolling numerical readouts. Steve reset the wings to their normal configuration, causing the airplane to shudder and roil for a moment then smooth out once again. With the increased drag of the now aft-pointing wings the plane slowed markedly, but to Douglas it was still going too damned fast towards the invisible ground.

"You land by virtual reality, too?" Douglas asked, her voice cracking.

"Yep. Big advantage if you need to land someplace where there is no established airport. Just tell the computer where to land and it shows you exactly how to get there. Guides you to within five feet of your planned stop point. You Air Force folks should like it when you get your own."

Douglas had a death grip on the arms of her chair as Steve flattened out and deployed the landing gear. Two gentle thumps announced that the wheels had touched down and the airplane began to roll. He pressed his feet into both pedals and the airplane shuddered as it slowed. In the illumination from the airplane's landing lights Douglas could now make out the thin macadam airstrip they had landed on and the two large hangars beyond, each with it's own door light. As if on cue the anticollision lights of another airplane became visible as Steve brought the airplane to a smooth stop and began to power down the aircraft.

"Thank you for flying Air Steve," he said, grinning.

 

Steve reached between his legs and released his seat, letting it retract back to its rest position, Douglas following his example. He stood and stretched, then turned to Ellie, still folded into the space aft of the cockpit.

Despite the removal of the seats from the passenger cabin of the airplane it was still a tight fit for Ellie's expanded body. It took her a minute of struggling with her torso and legs to wend her way deeper into the passenger cabin. She realized that her body had grown to the point where her bosom had occupied almost all the fabric around her chest, leaving her back exposed, the cords holding the folds of her parachute dress together exerting increasingly greater pressure on her ribs and belly. The sensation of the carpet rubbing against her buttocks suddenly called to Ellie's attention that she was now so large that her dress was now a micro-miniskirt that barely covered her hips and she wore no panties or other undergarments. Blushing hotly, she stuffed the front of her dress into her crotch to hide her privates. Steve noticed her motion, spun on his heel and interposed himself between her and Douglas, gently propelling Douglas with one hand on her back and working to open the door and deploy the boarding ladder with the other.

"After you, Captain," he said cheerfully. Douglas yielded and began to negotiate the ladder. Steve looked briefly over his shoulder, smiled at Ellie and winked, then followed Douglas. Ellie began to slide her way down the cabin to the door, twisting to slide her legs out into the cool night air. In a bid for modesty she tugged at her dress front and crammed the extra cloth between her legs, stretching the nylon irritatingly tight across her breasts. She started to slide out the hatchway but became stuck in the hatch frame just below her hips. She twisted her body, gripped the hatch frame with her hands and heaved herself out of the airplane.

Outside the plane it was nearly pitch dark. Steve had switched off all the airplane's lights, leaving the dim lighting from the two hanger lamps to illuminate the ground. The other airplane, its engines whining and its anticollision and landing lights brilliant in the gloom, stood two hundred feet away. Ellie stood erect carefully, testing her joints, and looked down. Steve and Captain Douglas were looking up at her in the dim, indirect light. Ellie saw that Steve's head now appeared level with her mid-thigh. Douglas' eyes were starting from her head in shock. Ellie quickly sank to her knees beside them. Steve reached up and took Ellie's hand in his own.

"Well, Captain," Steve said, "Your ride's waiting for you. Please do me the favor of not trying to talk to the pilot--the cockpit door'll be locked when you get in. Just take a seat and enjoy the ride back."

Douglas nodded wordlessly. She looked up at Ellie, who held out her hand. Douglas began to reach for it, hesitated, and then timidly grasped her first two fingers.

"What--what's it like?" Douglas asked. Ellie soberly accepted the captain's handshake and sighed.

"It's like nothing you can imagine," she replied.

Douglas stood there for a moment, then nodded quietly. She hesitated in turning towards the other airplane.

"Listen, there's something you should know," she said. "You need to hide yourself and your airplanes. The NSA and the PRO--that's the National Security Agency, a part of the CIA, and the Photographic Reconnaissance Office--have a domestic satellite that can use to take very detailed pictures of anything in the United States--the KF-11 satellite launched two years ago."

"I thought that satellite was supposed to be used to monitor environmental changes," Steve said.

"That's how it got funding to be built," Douglas replied. "It's also used for domestic surveillance. I've been told it look down on any town or individual location in the United States from eight hundred kilometers up and tell what brand of cigarettes a man is holding in his hand. It's been used to observe domestic groups deemed a danger to the government and it will probably be used to look for you."

Despite the poor light Ellie could see Steve frown as he listened to Douglas. He closed his eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, then grinned again.

"Thank you, Captain, and good luck to you," he said, offering his hand. "I have a feeling you might need it as much as us."

 

Ellie stood erect, stretching her legs and arms. It was such a sheer pleasure just to be able to stand upright and move without bumping into anything. She celebrated the freedom. Beside her Steve watched the other airplane lift into the sky with a roar. Nodding in satisfaction he strode towards one of the two hangars. Ellie was vaguely startled at seeing him move away from her out of the corner of her eye. She realized that it was his size relative to hers that was so unusual--where she saw Steve now was in the same part of her vision that she was accustomed to seeing small animals or pets. Steve reached the near wall of the hanger and withdrew a ring of keys from his pocket. He opened the access plate to a switchbox on the hangar wall and pushed a button that clicked loudly. Two rows of lights came on, illuminating a narrow road running from the two hangars up a long incline. He closed the box, looked up at Ellie, and grinned boyishly.

"You ready?"

"Ready for what?"

"I've some things to show you, and a surprise for you."

"All right."

Steve began to march up the road. Ellie followed, stepping small to match Steve's strides. She looked at her new surroundings. In the low lighting from the pathway lamps and saw that dense deciduous woods surrounded the airfield--she could almost make out the different colors of each tree's leaves. Up in New York all the trees had been stripped bare by weather and time, but here it was still mid-fall. The air was fresh, woodsy-smelling and cool. Ellie saw her breath smoke as she exhaled.

"Where are we?" she asked. Steve looked up over his shoulder.

"Polk County, North Carolina," he replied. "The town nearest to us here is Edneyville, over the hill. Over that way," he gestured to his right, "is the city of Asheville. About forty five miles behind us is Charlotte. Right up this road is my home, and if you follow it down to its end you come to the little complex we've built to house our companies in."

Ellie smiled at his enthusiastic response. She looked up at the sky and saw it was bisected, with clear starry skies directly above and behind her and utter darkness before her to the horizon.

"That's the storm we flew out of up there," Steve said as he followed her observation. "It'll be over us probably by the end of the day tomorrow or Tuesday."

A chill breeze sprang up, scattering leaves across the path. Ellie shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. The ground brightened as the near-full moon suddenly peeked out from behind the clouds. She looked down at Steve and found herself wishing she could hold his hand while they walked, but she was now so tall it would be uncomfortable for both of them to try--Steve would need to hold his arm straight up and Ellie would have to bend over nearly double for them to touch each other's hand. An envelope of depression enfolded her and her face fell into a sad frown, despite Steve's light-hearted antics.

Steve turned on his heel and began to walk backwards, looking up at Ellie.

"You look very pretty in the moonlight," he said. Ellie smiled slightly.

"I look a mess," she replied.

"Not to me--GAWK!" Steve said. He tripped on his own feet and fell backwards onto the path, exclaiming in pain. He shook his head and began to laugh.

"Geez, you'd think I'd been hitting the bottle. It's not Friday night yet."

Ellie dropped to her knees on the pathway. She helped him to his feet and kept hold of him as he brushed at his backside.

"You're tired, aren't you," Ellie said. Steve looked up and gave her his lopsided grin.

"A little. It's been a long day," he replied. He made no move to remove himself from her grasp. Ellie returned his grin and opened her mouth to speak, but hesitated.

"What?" Steve asked.

"Would you like me to carry you?" she asked, nerving herself for his rejection.

"You're not too tired yourself, are you?" Steve inquired with belated concern. "Ellie, I'm sorry, I should have been thinking. You've had a very hard time for the last day or so."

Ellie shook her head, a little embarrassed by his sudden, overt concern for her.

"I do feel a little worn, I guess," she replied, "but I've felt no need for sleep since-since the night we made love."

Steve's smile broadened until it looked like it could meet behind his head.

"Ellie, I'd very much like it if you carried me," he said. Ellie grinned at the anticipation in his tone. She hesitated for a few seconds then cautiously gathered Steve into her arms, one hand under his buttocks, the other across his middle. Watching closely she lifted him until he was up to her chest level and perched him between her cleavage. She was surprised at his light weight in her arms, and then she realized that at she had no experience in lifting a full-grown, six-foot man before at her current size. Gripping him as lightly as possible she slowly, carefully rose until she was erect. Steve snaked his right arm around her neck.

"You look a little cross-eyed, there," he teased. Ellie snorted, bouncing Steve on her breast. He smiled at the success of his taunt and touched her hair.

"Didn't those Army assholes even have a comb for you to use?" he asked.

"No," Ellie replied.

"Well, we'll fix that. Now, on to the rotenburo."

"Row-ten-burro?" Ellie asked. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Steve nod.

"It's a surprise for you," he replied. Ellie felt a real smile form on her face and began to stride up the pathway. She felt Steve lean into her chest and shoulder.

"I can't wait to show you everything tomorrow," he said. "Over that way," he pointed off to Ellie's right, "is the one garden I managed to get finished. It's done in the Zen style--very peaceful. My co-workers pretty much decreed one day that I needed to relax. Since I refused to take a vacation they suggested a Zen garden near my house. I've other gardens I'd like to get to work on--I hope you'll help me with planning them. And I can't wait to show you our house. It's based on an old post-and-beam barn I saw in New England when I was sixteen--"

Steve continued to talk conversationally as Ellie carried him up the path. She could feel his warmth against her chest and shoulder. He was utterly relaxed, trusting and unafraid as she held him twelve feet above from the ground. With every breath she took as she walked she could feel him rise and fall slightly on her breast. She felt the occasional pang of concern as he motioned a little too broadly and shifted in her hands--she was trying to keep her grip on him as light as conceivably possible to forestall any potential of hurting him. Steve seemed to notice her concern as he stopped gesturing long enough to tuck her hand firmly onto his chest, then returned to describing what neither of them could see. Ellie began to relax and tightened her grip on his torso. She felt him wriggle into the warmth of her hand. Her affection for Steve multiplied and she bent her head to kiss him.

"What was that for?" he asked, smiling up at her.

"I love you, Steve," she said. "You're very brave, and reckless, and smart, and when I'm with you I don’t feel like-like an overgrown monstrosity."

"Ellie, you're no monstrosity," he protested. "Something incredible had happened to you, yes, and it's still happening, but--"

"Steve, how many women do you know can pick up a six-foot man in their hands and carry him around like he was a small boy, like I'm doing with you? It's just really starting to hit me, now. I'm so big I'll never be able to do the things I could do just three days ago. I'll never drive my car again, or any other car. I'll never be able to use or wear anything I own. I'm so big I probably couldn't even crawl into the house I was born and raised in. I'm never going to be able to go back to work, I'd take up all the space in the restaurant--God, the idea seems so silly. The worst part is I can't even be around people. Steve, I always liked doing things that involved other people. I liked being in crowds, meeting people, talking to them. Now I am a crowd, all by myself. Almost everyone I've met since my body's begun to grow is either suspicious or afraid of me. Even you--you've been so good to me, and you're the most wonderful man I could ever have imagined meeting, let alone fall in love with, but I'm becoming so big I'm really afraid that I'm going to injure you or hurt you in some way. I feel my life is over, and it hasn't even begun, yet. God, I wish I'd never touched that alien thing!"

Ellie had come to a stop in the path. Tears began to fall from her eyes as she spoke. Steve reached up and touched her lips and chin with both hands, pain etched across his features.

"Ellie, please don’t cry," he said, clearing his throat. "Please don’t. Listen to me. You are no monstrosity. You are special, very, very special. Special to me. Special to some other people whom you'll meet tomorrow. I must tell you something. When I arrived home after I escaped from New York I told a few people what had happened to me--how I met this beautiful woman in New York who had an encounter with the most incredible object in the world and how it began to affect her. At first they thought I'd finally slipped my trolley. But as I kept talking about you I guess they began to see something in me, something that you--and only you--could have caused. They saw I was in love, something my friends kept telling me would never happen because I'd buried myself in my successes and wouldn't let anyone else in, because I've never been really close to anybody since my folks died. No, they will accept you, because I accepted you, whatever size you happen to be. No, Ellie, you're no freak, or monstrosity, or anything else like that. That's those dickheads Turner and Lang talking. You're my friend and lover, and I want you to stay with me forever. You'll always be at home here no matter how big you are."

Ellie began to smile through her tears. Steve beamed and nodded his head

"Anyway, how many full-grown men do you know who would let a woman just pick them up and carry them off like you're doing?" he asked. Ellie burst into a fit of giggles. She tried blinking her tears away, then released her grip on Steve's torso and wiped her eyes and nose.

"See? We're both special," Steve boomed portentously. Ellie smiled and bent her head to kiss him. She felt his lips meet hers and they kissed, long and deeply. She concentrated on the sensation of his mouth meeting hers and heard him hum with delight.

"Um, that was terrific. Can we do it again?" he said after they both came up for air. Ellie began to giggle again, shaking him.

"Whatever would I do without you?" she asked, reclaiming her grip on him and striding forward up the hill.

"Do? Ellie, look around you. You can do whatever you want to do."

Steve's gesture went up and down Ellie's frame. She began to laugh, a full-bodied laugh that shook Steve enough to make him protest. She hugged him tightly to her breasts until he spluttered for air.

"You really are incorrigible," she said. Her expression, intense and loving, was echoed in Steve's face and eyes. Ellie felt herself reel with joy, and her heart felt light for the first time in two days. He adopted a distant pose, then winked and ruined the effect.

"They tell me I'm bad to the bone," he replied. "Now, on to the rotenburo."

 

Curiosity propelled Ellie faster as she approached the apex of the road. As she rounded a curve a huge house came into view. She could see lights on around what appeared to be a basement and ground floor, and one light in a top floor window. Immediately beside the house she saw two towering tents, their white fabric illuminated from within. She stopped, uncertain where to go. Steve rotated in her hands and peered at the tents.

"Aha!" he called out. "There."

Ellie looked where he pointed and made out an area of thicker material at one end of the tent, made up of two flaps overlapping one another. She lowered Steve to the ground and reached out to flip open the tent.

Inside it was blessedly warm. Heat was blasting from four massive electrical radiators set at each corner of the tent and a large fan spun overhead to mix the air within the space. Ellie noticed what appeared to be an enormous futon in the center of the tent, under the fan, covered by an expansive sheet and what looked like a super-sized quilt. A pillow, probably composed of several normal-sized pillows sewn together inside another sheet, topped the bed. Thick white canvas covered the floor beneath her bare feet, soft and dry. Tall, bright lamps alternated with huge boxes made of polished wood and a high, canvas-covered object around the periphery of the tent.

"All right!" Steve exclaimed. "They came through. Ellie, come on over here. Take a look at these."

He led her to one of the boxes.

"Here, lift the lid," he said. Ellie did so, and retrieved the parcel of soft white cloth from inside the box. She stood up and let the thing unfold in her hands, and gasped. It was a nightdress made be just the right size for her. Ellie held it against herself, running her fingers over its soft fabric.

"D'you think it will fit?" Steve asked. "I'm afraid that I could only give an approximation of what your size would be--"

"Steve, it's terrific!" Ellie exclaimed. She drew out one of the nightdress sleeves and laid it on her arm. She noticed the rows of buttons and folds on the sleeve.

"Extra panels," Steve said in response to her questioning look. "There should be the same thing around the shoulders, back, waist, hips, and on down. You won't have to reshape the thing every time--"

Ellie looked down at him. Steve had stopped and looked away, as if to avoid a painful subject. Ellie smiled and knelt down so she could kiss Steve on top of his head. He smiled.

"Silly of me, isn't it," he said. "Now, there should be the other things I ordered in these other crates. Let's see, try this one."

Ellie walked around the tent on her knees and opened the lid on each crate in turn, revealing more treasures. She almost whooped with happiness when she discovered elaborately tailored panties in one container and right-sized bras in another. Other boxes contained huge towels and several pairs of socks which had thick leather-looking panels sewn onto their soles. Another smaller box held a huge, stiff bristled brush and a large metal comb.

"I can't believe that you have all these things," Ellie said. Steve, standing near the tall, cloth-covered object, nodded.

"I made a special order with some people in Hong Kong," he said. "I told them what I needed, what dimensions I needed, and that they could name their price so long as I got it within twenty four hours and no questions were asked. I was worried you'd have to wear that thing--is that a parachute?--until tomorrow or the next day, but they came through. The brush comes from Fuller's and the comb was made here."

"This stuff is so soft," she said, returning to the nightdress. "It feels like silk"

"It is."

Ellie looked over at Steve, startled.

"Steve, no!"

"Sure. Why not?"

"But this must have cost you a fortune!"

"It's worth it," he said, his expression serious. Ellie gave him a loving look like made him blush to his hairline. He motioned to her. Ellie rose and came over to where he stood beside the cloth-covered panel.

"Here," he said. "Lift the cloth off this."

Ellie did so and took a step back. It was a tall, polished mirror. A small sound escaped her throat as she reached out to touch it. It wasn't glass, but polished metal.

"I remembered seeing a panel of stainless steel at the Asheville airport," he said. "I think it was supposed to be formed into some old airplane's wing. Anyway, I contacted the owner and bought it from him. Some polish and it's a ready-made mirror for you."

Ellie only half-heard Steve's explanation. She looked at her reflection in the mirror and paled. It was her face, all right--perhaps her chin was a little longer, surrounded by a halo of long, unkempt auburn hair. But her body wasn't anything like she remembered. Her neck was long and thin, her shoulders narrow and muscular, her arms well defined. Her breasts were two huge pillows squeezed to her chest by the constricting parachute-dress. A slim waist sloped out to wide, well-formed and barely covered hips. Ellie slowly rotated before the mirror. Under a cascade of hair that ran below her waist she could see the cheeks of her buttocks peeking from under the hem of the dress, buttocks that were round and full and firm--very round, full and firm. Her legs were incredibly long, making up fully half her height, slim and lithe. I'm so strong-looking. No wonder I couldn't feel Steve's weight, she thought. She looked like her head had been transplanted onto the body of an overripe fashion model and blown up several times life-size. She looked down at Steve.

"Sorry for my reaction," she said. "It-it takes a little getting used to. Steve, this is the best thing that's happened to me since I met you. I can't thank you enough for all this. This 'rotenburo' is quite something."

Steve visibly relaxed as Ellie spoke, his smile broad. Then he started.

"What? No, no. This is your temporary accommodations, until we can arrange for better ones. The rotenburo is next door. Come on."

Ellie opened the flap on the other side of her tent to reveal a narrow passage. With Steve leading she made her way into the other tent, which was butted directly against the side of his house. Here the canvas underfoot ended, replaced by polished wood battens and the stone deck of a large outdoor porch. She saw a framework of pipes braced against the outside wall of Steve's home topped by a sprinkler head set directly over a shiny brass drain. A faucet topped by two large valve handles hung well down the wall. The lighting was all overhead and more radiators gave the tent an almost sultry atmosphere. It was a shower, a giant's-sized shower. Ellie cried out an intricate arpeggio of happiness. To be able to take a decent, hot-water shower, standing erect instead of bent like a pretzel--

Steve motioned to catch her eye and gestured to yet another flap in the side of the tent. Ellie turned up the flap and shivered at the chill gust of wind that invaded the space.

"That's a rotenburo," Steve said. A large, still pool of water adjoined the patio, its contents steaming in the cold evening air. It looked like it had been painstakingly sculpted, partly of stone and partly wood, cast in a rough circle. Soft lighting surrounded its periphery. A stand of tall pole-like plants, their withered leaves flickering in the breeze, occupied one corner near the pool, a bonsai--a gnarled, ancient-looking miniature tree--another, its branches overhanging the water.

"Rotenburo is a Japanese word," Steve explained. "It refers to the kind of public bath generally set up outdoors. I figured that after the ordeal those people put you through the best thing for you would be a scrub and a soak."

"It's beautiful," Ellie said.

"Ever bathe Japanese-style? I'd, ah, be delighted to show you, if you like."

Steve blushed again, charmingly. Ellie crouched down and picked him up to bring him to her mouth. Her kiss was long and intense.

"Wow," Steve said when she released him. "Does that mean yes?"

"Yes, it does," Ellie replied, carrying him into the shower tent and dropping the flap.

 

Under Steve's direction Ellie retrieved one of a selection of large wooden tubs that were stacked against the wall beside her shower. He disappeared through an open door and Ellie could hear him rummaging around inside. She got down on her hands and knees and peered into a smaller shower room. Another door similar to the one Steve passed through stood closed nearby.

"One shower area for men, the other for women," Steve called out as he noticed her curiosity. "Standard system for public baths."

"You set up a public bath in your own home?"

"Yep. I let my people use it when we have parties or meetings--lots more meetings than parties lately, I'm afraid. It makes quite a splash, if you'll pardon the pun. Here you go."

He produced two wooden-handled brushes, a salon-size bottle of shampoo and a cake of soap. Ellie took up the soap, noting that it was composed of several bars cemented together. It smelled of coconut. He then produced a tube to toothpaste.

"The one thing nobody makes in a large size," he apologized. He offered the smaller of the two brushes, then the larger.

"This one should do as a toothbrush for you. This one is your scrubber. Now, first you draw a tubful of water at the temperature you like and wet yourself down. Then you raise as thick a lather as possible on yourself and scrub every inch of your skin until it smarts. Once you finish scrubbing you shower off, then it's into the pool to soak and relax. You turn the tub upside down and use it as a seat while you scrub so you can get at everything. It's a pleasant way to get clean."

"You will help me scrub my back, won't you?" Ellie asked. Steve offered his twisted grin.

"Woof. I'll be right back."

Steve disappeared into the shower room. Ellie opened the two taps, waited until the water ran hot then daintily unscrewed the cap on the toothpaste tube. She squeezed out perhaps half its contents onto her brush and thrust it in her mouth. It was too large to be comfortable but Ellie worked it around her mouth enough to raise foam, then spit it out. She cupped her hands under the taps and filled her mouth to wash out the toothpaste, rinsed the brush and thrust the tub under the taps to fill. Ellie stood, tore her parachute dress from around her body and threw it at the opposite side of the tent. When the tub was nearly full and Ellie turned the selector valve above the taps to the shower setting. After what seemed an eternity of gurgling and clanking hot water surged from the sprinkler head. Steam rushed into the tent, warming it still more. Ellie grasped the tub and lifted it over her head, the hot water stinging her skin. She put the tub down on the floor bottoms-up and stepped into the shower, rotating under its impact. She soaked her hair and drew it around her neck so that it hung across her front.

"I could substitute for Lady Godiva," she muttered. She saw movement and looked down. Steve had shed his clothing and now stood, bucket and wash brush in hand, at the threshold of the shower room. His eyes were big and he was rapidly becoming erect.

"Hello, lover," she purred. "Come to scrub my back for me?"

"God, you--you are beautiful," he breathed. "Oh, yes. I am at your service, pretty lady."

Ellie turned off the shower and seated herself carefully atop her wash tub. It creaked loudly but held together under her weight. She picked up the soap and handed it to Steve, who took the thick bar in both hands and began to rub it across her back. He moved slowly at first, then more vigorously, extending his reach up to her neck and down her arms. He then slipped his arms beneath Ellie's and started to soap her front. He moved to her breasts. Ellie inhaled, pressing her bosom into his questing hands. She heard the soap clatter on the stone floor. She felt Steve's erection against her buttocks as he pressed up against her, his hands caressing her, tickling her nipples.

"Ooh, that feels good," Ellie murmured. "That feels so good."

Ellie half-turned and pulled Steve in front of her. He was partly-coated with the soap he had applied to her back. His expression was euphoric, his erection throbbing. Ellie smiled and retrieved the soap bar.

"Now it's my turn," she said. She gently applied the soap to his skin, drawing him closer to her. His hands returned to her breasts, massaging and tickling. Ellie felt moisture forming around her vulva. She rubbed her hands well with the soap and began to lather Steve's face and body. She ran her fingers around his crotch, cradling his buttocks in her hands, carefully stroking his erection.

"Woo," he breathed loudly, a huge smile on his face. He squinted as soap trickled into his eyes.

"Let's rinse off for a bit," he said. Ellie smiled and stood, reaching out to the taps. When the water chuckled out of the sprinkler head she took Steve in her arms and carried him into the flow. She rotated under the stream, rising both of them clean of the suds. Steve sputtered from the impact of the water as she carried him back towards the battens lining the patio deck on the far side of the tent.

"Ellie, you're a dream come true," Steve said as she deposited him on the wood battens. She seated herself beside him and smiled down at his erect--in more ways than one--form.

"Steve, I want you," she whispered. "But…"

"Leave it to me, pretty lady. Lie back," he replied. Ellie lay back onto her elbows and watched, curious and excited. Steve straddled her belly, facing her, his bottom resting lightly on her ribs. He began to stroke her breasts again, rubbing her nipples slowly, then faster and faster. Ellie moaned in response, her eyes half-closed. Steve wrapped both hands around one breast. His mouth closed on her nipple and he ran his tongue over its rough surface. Ellie felt pleasurable shivers racing up her spine and she encouraged him with her voice, rubbing his back with one hand. Steve began to suck, kneading the flesh under his fingers, her breasts swelling under his ministrations, her nipples hard. Steve gave the nipple a last lick and transferred his attentions to her other breast. Ellie's moans grew louder and louder until she orgasmed, her torso bucking, her breath coming in short pants.

"Oh, that was wonderful," she breathed. "You are wonderful."

"So are you, pretty lady," he replied.

He gave her breasts a final caress and raised himself. He bent over double and walked slowly down her side, running his hands down her middle. Ellie focused all her attention on the gentle touch he applied. As he reached her thighs he put his hands between them and pressed. Ellie opened her legs and Steve darted between them. She watched as Steve slowly caressed his way up to her crotch. He then seated himself on his heels before her womanhood like a worshipping acolyte. He began kissing and massaging her mons, then ran his tongue over her skin. Her labia were almost the perfect size for each of his hands and he stroked them slowly. Ellie responded immediately, her organs swelling, her moans louder and more fevered. Steve rubbed each lip, his thumbs slipping inside her to stroke her. He cupped her vulva in both hands and drew her labia apart. His mouth found her clitoris and he began to lick and suck.

"AHHH! AHHH!" Ellie cried out as she orgasmed again, and again, her juices dripping from her organ. As she started to come down from her rapture she felt Steve start to penetrate her and opened her eyes in surprise. Steve was carefully pressing his hand inside her.

"What are you doing--ahhh, ahhh," she breathed. She felt his fingers spread slightly as she lubricated even more. His hand suddenly slipped all the way inside her to his forearm, stretching her organ. He began to rotate his wrist, his splayed fingers writhing against her vagina, finding every sensitive spot inside her. Ellie writhed in utter abandon as one wave of sexual energy after another exploded inside her. Steve formed a gentle fist inside her vagina and moved his hand back and forth. Ellie closed her eyes as her strongest orgasm yet shook her entire body. Her cries echoed in the confines of the tent. Steve slowly removed his dripping arm and hand from her womanhood. Ellie lay on her back until her breathing slowed, then sat upright.

"Come here, lover," she said. Steve came into her arms and she lifted him up to kiss him tenderly. Ellie Steve's throbbing organ poking her in her ribs and a wicked grin crossed her face.

"Now it's my turn," she whispered. She laid Steve down on the battens and brought herself to her hands and knees. Hovering over him, she slowly lowered her head until they were face to face. She kissed him again on the lips, then licked his face. He tasted salty. She continued to run her tongue down his throat to his chest, making him wriggle.

"That tickles," he said, smiling. Ellie kissed each of his nipples and resumed her trek down his body, licking and kissing until she reached his member. She ran her tongue around his erection and gently kissed the head of his shaft. She heard him gasp and saw his hands shaking. Ellie ran her tongue down each of his legs, making him wriggle even more. She returned to his erection and wrapped her lips around his member. As she began to suck she felt his hands reach into her hair, stroking her. She increased the pressure of her lips on his erection and began to rock up and down, her tongue in constant motion.

"Ohhh--ohhh--OHHH--Ellie--I'm going--to--" he panted. Suddenly he arched his back and Ellie tasted a salty sweetness. She continued to suck as Steve yelled himself hoarse, yielding only when she felt his member diminish in her mouth. She hovered over him, pressing her breasts against his body, laughing softly.

"God, that was incredible," he said, his eyes rapturous. He captured one of her breasts in his hands and squeezed. Ellie squeaked in surprise and moved so that her nipple was near his mouth. He took the bait and sucked on it.

"Eleanor Andersen, you are amazing," Steve said. "You're incredible. You're unique. You're--"

"You are very, very good, Steve Carter," Ellie said softly. "A very good person. I feel totally happy now, for the first time since we went to the hospital." Ellie paused, looking at the square cut in the skin of her arm. She humphed in surprise as she noticed it was nearly healed. It had only happened--six hours ago? Seven? It seemed much longer. "Thank you for helping me forget the last two days."

"You're welcome," Steve said. "The heck with scrubbing. How about that soak?"

"Yes!" Ellie exclaimed. They both returned to the shower area and soaped up again. Steve finished himself quickly and helped Ellie shampoo her hair. Then they both rinsed under Ellie's shower again and Ellie lifted Steve's naked body from the ground. She carried him through the tent flap to the pool outside. Ellie slowly inserted one foot in the water. As advertised by the steam rising from its surface, the water was very hot. Ellie found her feet stinging from the heat of the water as the rest of her shivered in the cold night air. She held her breath and slipped into the pool. She heard Steve ahhh as he came in contact with the water. Under Steve's direction Ellie maneuvered herself until her back was against the wall of the deep area of the pool, submerging until only her neck and head were above the water, Steve still in her arms. After a few moments she felt herself relaxing. She sighed, her breath raising a cloud of steam from the water.

"It's very hot," she said.

"Yep. A hundred four degrees. Makes every muscle in your body relax. Now, how about something to drink?"

He reached over his shoulder and dragged a wooden tray into the pool, floating it in front of Ellie. Atop the tray she could see a small ceramic beaker and a larger carafe of white wine. She let go of Steve, who slipped to the edge of the pool beside her, and reached out to the carafe. The wine was well chilled from being outside and she sipped carefully. Steve reached out and seized up the beaker. He held it in his hands in a measuring way then steeped the beaker in the water for a moment.

"Sake is best warmed on a night like this," he said in answer to her questioning look. He took a small sample from the beaker, then drank half its contents. Ellie took a pull from her carafe. The alcohol quickly permeated every corner of her being and she slipped a little deeper into the water. Steve finished his beaker of sake, returning it to the floating tray. He reached behind Ellie and produced a washcloth which he soaked in the water and folded atop his head. Then he conjured a towel for her to use. Ellie imitated him, the hot, sopping towel shielding her head from the cold. They both soaked quietly in the steaming water, their eyes closed, while the night sounds of their surroundings formed a soothing music to their ears.

"Steve," Ellie asked suddenly, "what am I going to do?"

"What do you mean?" he replied sleepily. "You can do whatever you want to do, pretty lady. I'll help you with getting clothes and stuff like that but the rest is up to you. I hope…hope you'll stay with me, a'course, but…you…are…free…"

Ellie opened her eyes and looked quickly at Steve. He had fallen asleep and began to slip from the edge of the pool deeper into the water. She reached out with both hands to keep his head from going under, her motion slopping water from the pool, the washcloth on his head slipping off and floating away. Ellie held Steve in her arms and brooded over him. He was smiling gently in his sleep. Ellie bent down to deliver the lightest touch of her lips to his forehead and heard him murmur in response.

Ellie cradled Steve in her arms and rose from the pool amid a cloud of steam. She moved quickly back into the tent, sliding around the flaps so as not to disturb her sleeping lover. She made her way back into her tent-bedroom and retrieved one of the huge towels from its box. She laid the towel out on her bed and placed Steve on it, gently patting him in its folds. He muttered once in his sleep and began to snore gently.

Ellie folded the towel over Steve's body and used another one to dry herself, drawing closer to her mirror. The image of her body naked was even more shocking than clothed. Unfettered, her breasts stood out round and proud, fully covering half her chest. Her belly was tight and flat. Her pubic hair was lush and redder than her head hair. Ellie thought she looked like those women she saw advertising exercise equipment on television. She rubbed her hair until it was approximately dry and snatched up her comb and brush. She drew her hair to her front and began to comb out all the knots. It took a great deal of pulling and she winced in pain more than once. Then she applied the brush with vigor. The sensation of its hard bristles against her scalp made her wriggle voluptuously. Freed of tangles, her hair was a long auburn mass reaching down to her buttocks. She turned sideways to see her profile and was so shocked at her incredibly stacked body that she giggled, holding her hand over her mouth so as not to awaken Steve.

Thinking of Steve made her turn. She put down her comb and brush and strode to the futon. Steve had wrapped the towel closer to himself and turned over onto his side, still snoring softly. Ellie took him back in her arms, towel and all, and cradled him while drawing down the sheet and silk blanket of her bed with a free hand. She extricated Steve from the towel and carefully stretched him out on one corner of her futon, then slipped beside him, drawing up the bedclothes. She settled herself and turned on her side and rested her hand on Steve, feeling his warmth. Ellie lay there and watched Steve as he slept, occasionally closing her eyes yet unable to sleep, listening to the gentle outside sounds that permeated the fabric of her new home. She smiled.

 

Task Force Seven

Joint Military Headquarters

Johnston Atoll

Colonel Bartholomew Lang stepped out of the Air Force transport plane into the sultry Pacific air of the DART headquarters. His face, as usual, revealed nothing of his thoughts as he received the salutes of subordinate officers during his walk to the Quonset hut that enclosed DART's home base. He was still furious. Every possible idiot who could have interfered with the smooth running of his operation had done so. That gasbag General Mackenzie at Brooks had written a scathing report on his demands that the airplane the growing woman had escaped in be shot down, and it took two hours of phone calls and vapid promises to secure his release from Brooks. Turner had pissed his pants when he found the girl was gone and had now returned to the CDC, doubtless to write another monograph on what a wonderful administrator he was. Lang frowned. Whoever had taken the girl was canny and very dangerous, and had taken on Lang and DART. Whoever it was, they needed to be eliminated--no one was going to dump on Lang or DART. For now he would be content to watch and wait. He had issued new orders to the IRS, to Customs, to the Justice department. The girl was growing at the rate of two and a half inches an hour. It was only a matter of time before someone saw her, or someone custom-made clothing or accommodations for her. When he received word he would be free to move again. Lang looked up at the bucolic Pacific sky and allowed himself a small grin. It was going to be a successful operation after all.

 

Grown Encounter part 6