Chapter 3
Cate awoke in an unfamiliar bed and it took a moment for her to remember where she was: a small cottage in a small town, the perfect place for a safe house. She already missed her bedroom, cluttered but filled with her photos and paintings and personal belongings. This room looked like it had been decorated by a bureaucrat. Everything was generic and soulless, all grays and blacks and sterile whites.
And her living situation was the least of her worries. Someone had kidnapped the other members of her research team, and they were most likely after her as well.
Feeling exhausted even though she had slept for several hours, Cate rose from the bed and went into the bathroom. She took an extra long shower, allowing the hot water to wash away the stale fear-sweat from her body, and then dressed in an old sweatshirt and jeans. Fancy clothes and makeup had never been her thing; she preferred comfortable clothing and shoes and she didn’t have the time or skill to apply anything more than Chapstick.
Cate wandered to the kitchen, where she found a coffee maker. She made a cup of coffee and held it in her hands, waiting for it to cool down enough to drink. As the warmth from the cup traveled through her fingers, she wondered who was after her. She hadn’t even been an important member of the team, just some grad student who had been assisting Dr. Kwan. No one knew exactly how they had created the passageway, least of all her. After the accident, Cate had spent countless hours redoing the calculations, sifting through the notes, and had found nothing.
The coffee was no longer scalding, so she took a small sip. Still lost in thought, Cate glanced through the kitchen window, expecting to see the golden sky of dawn.
Instead, she saw a massive moss-green eye, the pupil as large as a softball and focused entirely on her.
Startled, Cate uttered a strangled noise and dropped the cup. It crashed to the tiled floor, splashing coffee across her feet. A rumbling sound, as loud and oppressive as jet engines, blasted her ears, and she clapped both hands over her head. The huge eye peering in on her blinked, the simple motion rendered awe-inspiring because of the scale, and then the noise abruptly stopped. Ears ringing, Cate lowered her hands. Lhyr. It was just Lhyr. But even though she recognized the giant staring at her through the window, she realized that she couldn’t deal with this. Not right now, not in this unfamiliar place. She quickly retreated to the bathroom, where there weren’t any windows, and slammed the door.
Cate stayed in the bathroom for quite some time, huddled near the bathtub.
Her heart stopped its painful thundering at last, and she slowly headed back into the kitchen. The green eye hadn’t moved from the window, and she thought that she saw concern in it, although that may have been her imagination. Cate found one of the translation devices — Desmond had given her several — and slipped it onto her ear.
“I’m very sorry that I frightened you, ma’am,” the giant apologized, his earthshaking voice comprehensible now that she had the ear piece.
Cate dragged up every scrap of courage that she possessed. “Look, you can’t just stare into windows like that. You almost gave me a heart attack.”
The titanic eye slid away from the window, revealing the early morning sky. “I was just making sure that you were okay. But I won’t do it again, ma’am.”
She sighed and retrieved some paper towels to clean up the puddle of coffee. Once Cate had taken care of the mess and made herself another cup of coffee, she went outside. The location really was picturesque; the cottage was by a pond with dark water as smooth as glass, and the closest houses were just tiny shapes in the distance. If she had been here on vacation, she probably would have appreciated the place a lot more.
Lhyr was sitting by the cottage, and the building looked like a dollhouse in comparison to him. He had removed the sunglasses, which would have made him look less intimidating if it wasn’t for the fact that a skyscraper-sized man always looked intimidating. Cate gripped the coffee cup tightly, trying not to appear afraid and probably failing. She walked toward the giant, stopping far enough away that he couldn’t have snatched her up easily.
“I’d offer you some coffee, but I don’t think there’s enough,” Cate said lamely, and she realized that there probably wasn’t enough coffee in this whole town for the giant. How many cups would it even take to satisfy someone so immense? She imagined a water truck held in Lhyr’s colossal hand, the tanker filled with thousands of gallons of Starbucks.
The giant almost smiled. “That’s alright. I’m getting used to everything being small here.”
“Like Gulliver in Lilliput,” Cate commented.
“What’s that?”
“It’s a story about a man who travels to various lands. One of those lands has tiny people,” she explained, and the giant considered this.
“Oh. How do they treat him?”
Cate took a swig of coffee. “Not very well, unfortunately.”
“While I was learning English, I saw some of the media from Earth,” Lhyr said. “There seems to be a deep distrust of giants. I suppose it makes sense…such a difference in size makes relationships difficult. But for what it’s worth, you don’t have to distrust me, ma’am.”
That was easier said than done, but Cate decided to at least make an effort. “ ‘Ma’am’ isn’t necessary. You can call me Cate.”
^^^^^
“It’s an important assignment,” they had told Lhyr, but he remained skeptical. Since he had left the military, he had had several stints as a bodyguard, but he hadn’t been prepared at all for this particular job. He had met with a member of the ambassador’s staff, a no-nonsense woman who had explained the details of the assignment, and he had listened in disbelief. The client was a member of the team that had discovered the passageway, which meant that she was from Earth.
And that she was the size of his thumb.
Lhyr hadn’t found most of the training to be challenging; he had a knack for languages and an interest in other cultures. But learning how to interact with the inhabitants of Earth had proven to be exceedingly difficult. When it had come time to handle a tiny person, Lhyr had been nervous. He had held small animals before, but the idea of holding a sentient being in his hand had been nerve-wracking. The tiny man had been calm as Lhyr had picked him up, and if he had noticed the thin film of sweat coating Lhyr’s skin, he hadn’t mentioned it.
It had been an amazing sensation, feeling the minute heartbeat beneath his fingers, the insignificant weight of the little body. The tiny man hadn’t seemed upset as Lhyr had gently shifted him from hand to hand, practicing the handling techniques that would prevent injury. As the instructor had talked about applying proper amounts of pressure, Lhyr had barely heard him, too astonished by the living doll creature. He didn’t believe that he could experience anything more incredible than that.
Then Lhyr had traveled through the passageway, and he had realized how wrong he had been.
The world on the other side was shrunken; at least, it seemed like that initially. Buildings, trees, people — everything was so miniscule. And so delicate, as if it was made from spun glass rather than concrete and steel. Somehow, Lhyr had managed to keep his composure and not gawk at the little things scurrying near his feet. Gradually, it had occurred to him that this world wasn’t shrunken. He was simply huge, a colossus that towered over everything. He had been to be careful whenever he moved; this world was so very breakable. If he tripped and fell into one of the buildings, it’d crumble beneath him like a sand castle. If he sneezed, it’d most likely shatter windows.
Worst of all was the constant activity at his feet. There were tiny vehicles and tiny people, and Lhyr had to be aware of what was underfoot at all times. One careless step, and he could destroy someone’s car, or end their life. He had been relieved when he had found out that they were moving the client to a safer location, one that wasn’t crammed with so many small people.
Now that they were in a more isolated area, Lhyr’s biggest problem was trying to gain the client’s — Cate’s — trust. The tiny people that he had handled previously had been calm and relaxed; Cate was absolutely terrified of him. He had felt the way that she had quaked, the shivers running from head to toe, as he had held her between his fingers. Not that Lhyr blamed her. He was capable of causing her great harm, even though he would never do that.
How do you know that he’s not dangerous? What if he eats me?
At first, it had sounded laughable, the idea of Lhyr eating Cate. But as he contemplated it more, he understood where the fear originated. He was a lot of things to her — a behemoth, a brute, a predatory beast — and she didn’t exactly see him as a person. He was the monster at the other end of the Beanstalk. Lhyr hadn’t heard of Gulliver’s Travels, but he had heard of Jack and the Beanstalk, and he could see how the people on this world imagined giants to be.
Well, he would prove that he was just as human as they were.
^^^^^
Cate continued to be wary of him. She mostly stayed in the cottage during the first week, communicating with him only when necessary. Lhyr kept his promise and didn’t check in on her through the windows. And then perhaps due to boredom or curiosity, she began to come out and talk to him awkwardly.
Lhyr was getting ready to eat lunch, which was a MRE similar to what he had received in the military, when he sensed someone watching him. He glanced down and spotted the tiny woman, who was standing at a distance. She never came close to him, probably intimidated by his size.
Cate was saying something, although Lhyr didn’t have his ear piece on and it sounded like high-pitched squeaks. As soon as he retrieved the device from his pocket and put it on his ear, her words became clear.
“So, um, I saw that you were having lunch and I figured that you might like some company,” she said, holding up a miniature plate with a speck on it. A sandwich? A salad? Lhyr couldn’t really see what it was.
“Of course, ma’am, I mean, Cate,” Lhyr replied, and she sat down where she had been standing, which was an arm’s distance away from him. He opened the MRE and started to eat what passed as beef. His stopped chewing when he saw her staring intensely at him. Cate’s expression was almost comical, her mouth hanging open, dark eyes wide. He swallowed the mouthful of food and cleared his throat.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be staring,” Cate said quickly. “It’s just…I didn’t think someone could eat so much.”
Then, realizing that what she had said had only made the situation worse, her face turned a deep scarlet and she focused on her plate, picking at whatever her lunch was. With her eyes turned away, Lhyr was able to continue eating, although he was suddenly conscious of every bite. He probably would have reacted the same way if he had seen someone shoveling tons of food into their mouth.
They finished their lunches and sat in silence until Cate spoke up.
“So what’s your world like?” She asked, looking up at him.
“Similar to this one, but it’s my size,” Lhyr told her.
“That sounds terrifying.”
“Not for me.” But he realized that Cate was right; being surrounded by immense bugs and cats and people did sound terrifying. Everything would be a threat, a danger that one would have to navigate. Both worlds were hostile to those who were different sizes, Lhyr realized. This world wouldn’t hesitate to blow him up if he acted inappropriately, and his world would be filled with all sorts of horrors for Cate.
She decided to change the subject. “So how long do you think this will last? I mean, you and me being together like this?”
“I honestly don’t know,” he admitted, and Cate nodded, absorbed in her own thoughts. Eventually she picked up her plate and started to head back toward the cottage.
“Do you want to, uh, have dinner together?” She asked, not meeting his eyes. He agreed and she disappeared into the little house, leaving him alone outside.
Well, it seemed that he had made some progress in gaining her trust.
Hopefully.
