Lost Change
Chapter Nineteen
All Good Things….
by D.X. Machina
“Many waters cannot quench love; floodwaters cannot overflow it. If someone were to offer all his possessions to buy love, they would be utterly despised.”
Song of Songs 8:7
“There were two teams that wanted to win, and when that happens, only one of them can win.”
Dennis Green
Love one another, but make not a bond of love:
Let it rather be a moving sea between to shore of your souls.
Khalil Gibran, “On Marriage” from The Prophet
“Don’t try to have the last word, you might get it.”
Lazarus Long
D.X. Machina
League Headquarters
New York, New York
The halls of League Headquarters seemed cramped.
I had no time to appreciate the grim humor. I was charging pell-mel after Leah Jackson. I knew where she was heading, at least in general.
She was going to trigger Plan B.
Ronnie was right behind me. “Left, D.X., left. It’s in the experimental wing. Sci-tech is running it.”
We got to a locked door. “Open, Ceres, Authorization Alice 4,” barked Veronica.
Nothing happened.
“Shit! They changed my passcode.”
“I think I can help,” said a winded, five-foot-seven Sarah, sprinting from down the hall. “Stand aside,” she said, raising her hand and letting loose with a shrink spell. The door stood up well–it had been enchanted, of course–but it wasn’t ever meant to withstand a shrinking spell with the full power and emotion of an adept behind it.
We were through into the chamber. And Leah Jackson was at a workstation, furiously typing commands.
“Sorry guys, you’re out of time,” she said, wickedly.
“That may be the worst pun I’ve ever heard,” I replied, letting loose with an A/R spell. It staggered Leah backward. She looked up, the picture of an innocent seventh-grader.
“I wouldn’t do any more, D.X. I’ve already started the countdown. Only I can abort the sequence. In eight minutes, nothing around us will have existed for three hundred years. The only survivors will be in this room–and if I have anything to say about it, the only survivor will–be–me!”
She grinned triumphantly, only to disappear.
“Sorry,” said Scott. “But she wasn’t going to help us anyway. Ronnie–think you can help us figure out how to stop the countdown?”
* * *
Veronica Ceres
I looked at the screen, trying desperately to figure out a way to abort the sequence. But there was nothing. The codes were locked–the time shift would occur in less than six minutes.
“I’m sorry. There’s no way to reverse the process. Everything’s locked.”
“We could shrink the time shifting devices,” offered Anonymous.
“No dice. Sci-tech designed them to operate even if reduced a billionfold. The people will be dropped into a coded out world….”
Suddenly, it hit me.
“…unless we change destinations! We can beam them out into space–Leah didn’t lock down locales. We can drop the people on Mars, and nobody will get hurt–”
“–except the people, who all die. We can’t do that, Ronnie.” Sarah was grim.
“If we don’t, everyone alive on Earth will die. We can’t do that either.” Scott was more grim. “Greatest good–we have to kill these people to save everyone else.”
“Unless…Ronnie, what would happen if we kept the area low. Right now, it’s supposed to cover all of Earth. What if we just dropped them in a ten square meter area in the Middle of Nowhere, Montana?”
“D.X….that’s a hell of an idea. Quick, I’ll recalibrate.”
“Wait!” cried Scott. “Won’t they be tiny?”
“Yes, but alive. They’ll have a chance. And so will the rest of the world.”
“How long do we have?” asked Sarah.
“Three minutes, eight seconds.”
“Then I’ve got to run…there’s one more passenger for this train.”
* * *
John, son of Maria
The Land of the Goddesses
She ran into the room, looming like the goddess she was. She ran to my prison of glass, and said, simply, “No time to explain, little one. I’ve got to get you home.”
With that, she slid her fingernail under me and lifted me, and as she lifted I felt myself growing, and growing, and growing, until I was as big as her hand.
She smiled down at me. “You must return to your people, and lead them into a new era.”
“I am but a man….”
“Dare you question your Goddess? You shall lead them–my mark shall be upon you. Now, come with me!”
I had no choice.
* * *
Scott Chelgren
“Thirty seconds, Sarah, you’re cutting it close!”
“Well, he’s here. Where’s the 288:1 chamber?”
She sprinted towards it, and quickly opened the chamber. She set the man down, and as he dropped, he grew smaller, to scale. “Nice work,” I said. “Who is he?”
“A resident,” she smiled. “His wife would miss him.”
“Ten seconds,” said D.X. “I hope to God this works.”
A bolt of power shook the room, and we watched, amazed, as the world in the tiny chambers shimmered. Then, suddenly, they were gone.
“Did it work?” I asked, after a few minutes.
“Only one way to find out,” said D.X. “Come on.”
We walked out of the room, into League headquarters. Then, out into the bright sunshine of a beautiful New York City morning. And something else….
The damage was gone. Sarah’s attack seemed never to have happened.
“D.X.–?”
“It’s too much for the world to believe–giant women trampling things. And Sarah caused minimal damage. So the people choose to believe it was a brief daydream, and the damage repairs itself. Happened in Madison too. You see…the world as a whole still is unready for GTS. They won’t believe it, even when the evidence is right in front of them. But for we fortunate few…it is a wonder.”
The sun shone bright on that New York morning. All was right with the world.
* * *
V. Koschkei
The Peace Accord was reached later that day.
We resored the League–they were quite surprised. But it was the only way.
We disbanded both organizations that afternoon. In its place, we formed a new organization. One which would both protect GTS, and keep it from falling into the wrong hands. No more would we fight the images. No more would we try to stop the websites.
No more would we battle the League.
I would remain on the board of the Growth Triumphant Society, but I would not chair it. Nor would D.X., though he was strongly recommended. In the end, the new chair could not have been more surprised.
“I can’t believe you trust me with this. I mean–after Madison….”
“…Yes, Ronnie, it’s after Madison. And it’s time we let go the past. Besides, you proved your loyalty to the greater world.” D.X. sighed. “It’s time we forgave each other. I mean, the Cold War is over. Maybe it’s time for the GTS war to be over too.”
And so that day–Thursday, November 13, 1997–would be immortalized. Though few would ever know it, it was as important as the fall of the Berlin Wall. It was the end of the war.
* * *
Epilogue
Sarah Kensington
D.X. and Teri got married later that year. There’s something about facing death together that brings two people closer, and it was a beautiful ceremony. I was a bridesmaid, along with Kelly. Scott was a groomsman, and John “Anonymous” Smith was D.X.’s Best Man. And to everyone’s surprise, the former Chairman officiated.
Kelly ended up majoring in Political Science. She worked on a Mayoral campaign in Minneapolis this year, and she’s hoping to build enough connections that she can someday run for office herself. Oh, and unsurprisingly, she had no problem finding love…perhaps someday she can tell that story. It’s a doozy.
Leah Jackson, the former President of the Athena League, materialized in the shoe of a five-year-old girl. She tried to move, only to find herself welded to the sole. Scott’s curse was ingenious, especially since he thought of it on the fly. As the shoes were discarded, she found herself materializing in the bra of a sixty-nine year old woman, and then she became one with an eleven-year-old’s braces. Last we checked, she was part of Mia Hamm’s sock–not that Hamm remembered her time with the League anymore. The Society is considering freeing Ms. Jackson…someday….
Claire’s screenplay never did get developed into a movie–not that it matters much. The special effects budget was out of sight, and besides, reading about it was almost as good.
John, son of Maria, returned to his people, seven feet tall by their scale. Their world has moved, and they are besieged by many strange creatures, but they are fighting together–men and women–and they will be just fine. As for me, I graduated last spring,magna cum laude, with a double major in English and Sociology. Which is why I went immediately to Law School. I’m a one-l at Hamline School of Law…and I’m questioning my sanity right about now. Especially since I have a job anytime I want it with D.X. and Scott.
What? You’re wondering what happened with Scott and I?
I’ll let him tell you.
* * *
Scott Chelgren
Sarah has been kind enough to let me finish the story I started a long time and a different world ago. And I am grateful for the opportunity. After all, it’s been a wild ride, and I never expected this when I picked up a copy of Magick at Magus Books.
It wasn’t always easy for Sarah and I, after the New York incident. She and I were both more powerful than we could’ve ever guessed. It wasn’t easy, like it was when she loomed over me. Well, she still did, most of the time. I didn’t leave her dorm room for quite some time after we got back to Minnesota. Which was nice. Very nice.
But our relationship had been irrevocably altered, and we might not have made it.
But one night, in January of 2000, we were walking outside across the bridge over the Mississippi. I was full-sized, as was she.
We paused as we reached the midpoint of the bridge, the Weisman ahead of us, the Carlson School behind us, the bitter January wind whipping through our souls. “Scott,” she said, quietly, “I love you.”
I smiled at her, and somewhere in the back of my mind, a spark was ignited. The problems we had–they were normal, everyday, mundane problems. With a strange backdrop, undoubtedly–but I loved her. Would love her always.
There would be no more running. I dropped to my knees, and before I knew what I was happening, I found myself reciting an old poem by Ogden Nash, one I had forgotten I knew. It was about happiness–and finding it where your love was.
Its last lines are “Let none, not even you, disparage/Such a valid reason for a marriage.”
We were married in July–it’s too hot, but we didn’t want to wait forever. My wife–Sarah Kensington-Chelgren–was beautiful. Mira even came, with her new boyfriend. He’s a nice guy.
We’ve been together now but six months, and it’s not always easy, but it never is. I’m working with the G.T.S., and D.X. and I are working on some other, special projects.
It’s been a nice change.
Oh, I still shrink, and explore Sarah. We’ll never stop that, I suppose. Sometimes she smiles, and I see her back as she was the day I met her–immense, beautiful, young. And sometimes, I see her as she will be decades from now, when her youth has passed. And she’ll still be beautiful.
Mostly, when I look at her, I see forever.
I miss the early days, but not much. They were fun…but in the end, two people can’t stay together if one is dependent on the other. Well, maybe they can…but it’s not as rewarding.
So as I write this, curled up in Sarah’s cleavage, I know that change would most definitely not do me good. I can lie here, and feel the rythm of her breath, and the beating of her heart…and I know that this is the place I am supposed to be.
I have lost the need to change. And that is a wonderful thing.
