Chapter 30 – Your old body is dead. Your body’s dead, you’re a word instead.

23 Floréal Year CCXXXI, Potat, South Windland, Libertalia - Amazonia

Benjamin refused to let Oliver down until he was in his office, where he plopped the boy into a large chair across from his desk. The dim lights and tall bookshelves cast long shadows over the room. Benjamin moved to the window and pulled on the blinds, bringing much needed color to the pale environment.

At the top of his desk was a single condolence card, signed by the staff from his department. The giant carefully opened it and then tossed it aside before turning on his computer. A small fan kicked on the machine, and it beeped as peripherals and storage was tested and as the aging device to limped to life, the sounds piercing the silence of the two men in the cold room. Oliver said nothing and focused on looking about the strange cavern of a room. The books that lined the short bookshelves appeared to have no logical order or significance to Oliver. The room’s tables were empty of ornament save scattered papers and a couple weeks of dust. To the far corner there was a booster seat carelessly adorning a small table, appropriate for a normal sized person to use.

Ben stumbled a bit over starting a conversation, letting his head down as he sat still in his seat. Today should have been a day of defeats, of hard-fought battles, exhausting himself as he pleaded among his coworkers that he deserved to stand among the other giants here. In place of humiliation and debasement, his son had just solved his problems. With a smile and small dance, Oliver pushed Ben to be as tall as he always wanted to be. Somehow that made Benjamin feel smaller, and he wanted to take it out on the boy, partly for running from him, and partly for playing on his emotions, but mostly for pushing him into these unknowns, to force him to see himself as something better than he imagined himself to be.

“I don’t get it Oliver. What happened here today?”

Oliver smiled and scooted up to the back of the seat. “I told you I could help you. I’m your friend, and I want you to succeed.”

The new father looked hard at the card in front of him. This should have been Collins. None of this would have happened. He did not deserve this. He had done everything wrong and was being rewarded for it. Even his values had been compromised, turned upside down, and still Oliver had found a way to make it seem like it was acceptable to betray himself in that way.

“I… um… Oliver, you’re supposed to just be a baby, why do you have to step into things, fix things, improve things? Why can’t you just be my perfect little boy.” Ben unconsciously tapped the card on his desk.

“I’m not him.” Oliver’s eyes narrowed, he was walking a tight rope, he wanted to pressure Ben, but he also needed to give him space.

“No, Collins wouldn’t have done any of what you’ve done.” Benjamin’s voice shook as he said it, he felt unconvinced.

“Are you sure? I think you want to share something with me.” Oliver knew more than he was letting on.

“You’re right, Collins would have had Paula eating out of his palm too. Thanks, honestly, thank you.” Oliver would have to take that as an answer, the boy’s face did not shift at all with his disappointment.

Oliver tried another path, “I chose academia as my entry point because it is a sector where people manage their own time, have diverse contacts, travel frequently, and are seen as not very important. You teaching social studies is not going to get me where I want to be. I need you to be at your best.”

Ben did not like that. It caused a sharp pain, not like when a little swore, but in the forehead and up and across his brain. It rippled through his skull. Benjamin was not a man who had experienced headaches. He closed his lids and took his glasses slightly off his face so he could palm his eyes. The enormity of what Oliver had just placed on him was too much. Oliver was depending on him to fly this plane, finding a way to pull an Immelmann turn in a jet that wanted to crack in half if he pushed a turn past three g’s…

Benjamin turned back to his work monitor, he put in his birthday and the machine booted up to desktop. His hand shook as he clicked open his e-mail. The machine started to choke in the warm dusty air that had accumulated in his office at the top of the school of history. After an indecisive ten seconds, his inbox coughed up one new letter from the Dean. She had snuck a picture of Ben holding Oliver the moment he had called him daddy and had shared it with the department. He set the picture as his wallpaper and closed the e-mail. The machine began to whir, dust filled fans groaned in pain as the act of reading one letter had forced the server to download his waiting mail.

The avalanche started as one new letter, then two, and five, and then hundreds of blue replies. There were maybe a thousand e-mails in his inbox from the past few days. His machine roared like eight turbojet engines being pushed to maximum. The scale of it was impossible for him to handle. Sweat began to accumulate on his forehead and under his armpits. The room felt too cold, and his ears were boiling. Somewhere in the inner canal a sharp pain grew and jammed out towards his eyeballs. Benjamin closed his eyes and took deep breaths. Heart attack? Stroke? Purileosis? Something was wrong with him, the world felt like it was falling away. The distant sounds of the building became smothered like he dived into twelve feet of water. Benjamin became aware of the teeth in his mouth, the tongue, and it felt like he needed to remind his chest and lungs to breathe.

Oliver was at his side and holding his hand, tiny fingers wrapping around his larger ones. Benjamin could barely control anything. He struggled to get one eyelid up and saw the wave of blue. “Sorry” “Condolences” “Collins” “Thank you”. The psychic onslaught was too much for him, and Benjamin lost control. He needed to go away for a while. He needed a copilot to take over the plane.

“You are going to feel pain. A lot of it. Once you wake up,” Doctor Chakwas had reminded him, just before he had lost consciousness. He opened his eyes, he was sitting in an office chair of dubious quality, and a child was holding his hand.

No, not a child. Oliver Swift was holding his hand. He was not used to seeing Oliver from this angle, his friend looked like he had shrunk in half.

“Oliver?”

His wing mate turned up and looked at Ben. Oliver had put on some weight, a small bit of gray started to accumulate at the edges of his hair, and his face had a worn look that was unbecoming what had been a young and vibrant man he had seen this morning. Oliver nodded to acknowledge Ben.

“Why are you tiny?” Something was off, like his brain had missorted his memories. He tried to think back to this morning, he had just seen Victoria, and he had proposed, no he almost did that, but decided to put it off. Collins and Oliver had come to him with one of Oliver’s dumb plans again.

“I’ve been waiting for this. I can’t believe you’re back. You are back, right? Do… do you remember the test we came up with? The code?”

He did remember. A set of numbers flashed in his mind, “Sixteen.”

Oliver paused as if to think hard on it, his face did that thing when he was concentrating hard, like trying to remember how to reprogram a JDAM while in flight. “I don’t remember the number one, do the other one.”

“You came up with it this morning.” This was Oliver’s stupid idea, a code only the real Ben and real Oliver could know, so each would know the other was not some trick or simulation.

“It’s been a bit longer than that for me, please.” Oliver was trying him.

“This is…. Capicola.” Benjamin’s tone layered his disappointment onto Oliver. Oliver was always coming up with stupid games.

“Italian! I knew it would work.” Oliver had stepped a foot back to give Benjamin space. Benjamin gave no response, “You’re not in pain or anything are you?”

Benjamin nodded then tried to answer, his mind was starting to make this work, bits and pieces of the past week. He had been here, watching. Seeing Oliver treat him like a jerk and then turn up the devotion… had he worn a diaper? Had Oliver used a diaper? He watched it all, yet it felt like he had been there the whole time, he was choosing what to say, all while pushing Benjamin to be friendlier, asking him to give Oliver a chance.

Ben ignored the question, “The plan with Collins, did it work?”

“With Chakwas distracted, only Blake was available to do Collin’s physical, and we all got to fly. I always thought Doctor Chakwas, had a thing for you. In a gilfy sort of way.”

Sharp pain went through Ben’s skull. He put his hand to the spot-on top, slightly to the right and between the ears. Oliver flinched at the error, and apologized, “Oh sorry, she was hot though. Nice lady, retired after the war.”

“And this?” He pointed at his head, “I mean. What happened to me.”

“You cried for days. Just like a baby. ‘Oh, Oliver, I’m going to be a ghost in the machine. You need to do something.’”

Ben was incredulous and gave a huff, “I did not say that.”

“Anyway, Air Force scrapped the plans for their skill transfer thing when none of the bu- bombers came back. I pulled some strings to get all your copies moved to a safe spot in I.E.D.R. I’m confident you’re the only you.”

“Oh.” Ben put it together, “Oh…” He paused for a bit looking over his hairy hands, and down at Oliver, “You found another me. I’d say this feels wrong.” It did not feel wrong. He was himself; he was doing what he always wanted to do. Oliver, at half his normal height and much older, was the only thing out of place. The fact it did not feel wrong bothered Ben. His whole life he had been taught that stealing a life this way was wrong.

“I know. I dealt with one of the last changeling cases in my early days at I.E.D.R. It felt necessary.” Oliver tried, but his reply was hollow.

“It wasn’t.” Ben was certain it wasn’t necessary. He did not know whether he meant Benjamin would still have formed friendship with Oliver without the push, or he felt Oliver could have found another way to do his project here without Benjamin. He just wanted there to have been a better way, and for Oliver to have been brave enough to try it.

“I should call my…” Ben stopped himself, his parents in Oakshire were the same as his Earth ones, the memories of two childhoods overlapping perfectly. The dissonance, and its absence, caused him to shake his head.

He reached down and signaled to Oliver he wanted to pull him in. Oliver moved forward and giant arms picked him up easily. Oliver’s tiny arms came around Ben’s ribcage, and his head cradled into his chest. Oliver and Ben had been platonic, rarely even touching each other, and this felt unnatural. The hug enveloped Ben like a warm blanket on a cold winter morning, like a tall glass of be… lemonade after a grueling run. He did not want this to end. One arm pushed Oliver into his chest, and the other came down slowly along Oliver’s back, resting at the top of his butt. The soft crinkling of Oliver’s pull-up echoed in his large ears, bringing a second foreign pleasure. It was the comfort of a seatbelt clicking, the peace of mind of taking one last look at the garage door to make sure it was closed, or double checking the air in a spare tire before a long trip. All was right with the world, why did he want it to be wrong?

Ben finally found the words, “I’m sorry, this feels too good. I’m not going to let you go.”

Oliver gave a sniffle, “Whatever you need. I’ll be here.”

“He likes me. I remind him of who he was before, not jaded, but filled with passion. He likes it when I ask questions, and he can just talk about all the things he loves to someone who can appreciate it. He gets to teach, explain, and understand himself better. Sometimes he needs to work on a problem or a thought, so he hands over the controls. Just to walk down the hall or wash his hair while showering, so it still feels like living. He likes that we know each other, and when you say something I’m there to explain it. I’m glad he listened to me…”

Oliver turned up his head, “What do you mean?”

“When you ran, he wanted to just drag you off and discipline you, but I told him to stop and talk to Vicky. I wanted to talk to her again, I said she’d be good for you. I’m sorry you’re getting a new mommy.”

“After the war she and I tried to make it work for a bit, when I was working for State. She was a total,” Oliver stopped, he was unsure of what to say here, “let’s just say it didn’t work. She’s perfect for you though.” Ben brought the lower arm up and ruffled Oliver’s hair a bit.

“I can’t stay up here.” Ben sighed, explaining the struggle, “Even if I wanted to take his life, he’s older and it’s his body. Plus, I would have to sleep at some point.”

“I know.” Oliver quietly answered. He turned his head up, looking at Ben, and both men keeping their arms tight around the other.

“What do you want Oliver? What can I do to make things better?” Benjamin offered. He still held Oliver tightly.

The question confused the smaller man. He had done this for Ben, even with Victoria, it was because Oliver was trying to help his friend. Oliver wanted to ask Benjamin what he needed, but the man always had had a way to spin things around. He could figure out what Oliver wanted and cut ahead of him.

“I… um…” Oliver focused, “I need to setup a planetary wide spy network.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know how to help with that.” Benjamin responded kindly.

“Oh well, worth a shot. We, as in Earth, are wanting to figure out,” Oliver rubbed his nose slightly with his sleeve, and took a long sniff, “What’s going on with the Nitz, and see if they have any more tech we can benefit from. Also to try and stop the council from getting to it first.”

“Zero for two, sorry. I was hoping for something more like, if you wanted to go to an amusement park or a museum.” Ben saw the scale of the problem differently; his boy was the mission.

“Oh.” Oliver was not disappointed; he was wishing for ponies. Now Ben was starting to see him the way his host body saw Oliver. “I want to be with my friends again.”

A hand came down from Ben and messed up Oliver’s hair, “You’re my best friend Oliver, and you’re going to make lots of friends being here. What happens if you fail at your job now? You’re practically retired living here. Your old job doesn’t matter. Earth doesn’t matter.”

Oliver made a concerned face, and looked sheepishly at the ground before addressing him, “You’re right. My job is over, and nothing I do matters. Still, I have a few things I want to try. Do you mind if I help you with your work, and even come here from time to time, check on the things we setup?”

“That’s not a problem at all,” Benjamin had been planning ideas for Doctor Korge’s old class from the moment he was in the elevator, and Ben did not see why Oliver could not help with that too.

“And you, Ben, what does Benjamin want? What do you want?” Oliver felt comfortable asking it now.

“I want to be a good dad, I want you to be happy,” Ben said with warmth, but his eyes were off, it was automatic. Oliver waited for Ben to continue.

“I want, I think you’d be happy if you were littler in a few ways. He’s not going to push you on that, but I want you to promise me you won’t make a big deal of things if things change. Or that you will let me know if you feel you want to enjoy your retirement.”

Oliver kept a stern face, hiding his disquiet. This planet had a way with small people. Avoiding the perturbation inflicted by the slow decay of independence would be difficult. Ben would help him with the psychic battle to preserve Oliver’s spirit and happiness in the face of this onslaught but had just admitted he had no plans to prevent the decay of body or mind.

“Like that trick you pulled with the words. He liked that.” Ben made the threat explicit.

Oliver gloated, “I am a spy, blending in is part of the job.”

“I mean a more…” Ben waved his finger at his throat, “Direct intervention.”

Oliver took a strong breath through his teeth, gritting them together. Benjamin wanted to put Oliver under and hypnotize him. Oliver needed a few seconds to organize his thoughts.

“A week ago, that would have bothered me, but a great man once said never judge a man for mispronouncing words. If you think it’ll help me blend in more, I can put up with some frustrations. I don’t want it to impact our work though.” Oliver thought for a second, “As a favor, I liked when you corrected me, maybe we can make it a game. I want you to correct me, and if I hear a grown up pronounce a word correctly, I can pronounce it that way too.”

Great man! Grown up! How could he say, no? Ben tightened his grip on Oliver, affirming the compromise. He moved to the next idea, “I want you to call Victoria mommy.”

Oliver rolled his eyes, “Can’t do that.”

“What!” Ben’s face became a statue, and his mouth dropped to a serious frown. Oliver had been so conciliatory, the perfect boy, and in an instant became a brat.

“You have to marry her first Ben. You’d think you know how a stepmother works.”

Ben’s smile returned, “Oh, and no, um, woo wooing your new sister. It’s not taboo just weird.”

Oliver nodded, Ben was losing the context window, “That’s fine. Keep it to just my sister though, in case there’s another Jennifer I meet.” Ben gave an affirmation. Oliver had won, Jennifer was his stepmother’s sister, not her daughter.

“He needs you to call him daddy,” Benjamin was careful stepping through the words, making it sound as a request from another.

Oliver was ready, he had thought this through too much the past day, “Ben, the words mean different things.” Ben stared down at him, littles always had a way of coming up with convoluted explanations.

“There’s obviously your name, which I’m only using because I still see you as my friend. There is going to be a time when I need to refer to you to another person. ‘Have you seen my new dad, Benjamin Young?’” Oliver pushed back a bit from Ben’s chest to emote better with his hands, “And if I say father, it’s because it’s deferential, or serious. ‘Where is father? Will he be joining us after supper?’ It’s about showing respect. Sometimes the situation requires an honorific, just to convey the seriousness of the request.”

“Dad is just casual, but I’m not above using it. And daddy is just for us. There’s one more past that, and that one is extra special, and I don’t even know what you must do to earn it.” Oliver concluded his explanation. For a moment, Ben could see the nuance, the intricate mental gymnastics that Oliver had performed for himself to justify how he would call his friend daddy. Oliver was struggling with living here, adapting to an absurd new normal required self-delusion.

“I’m just conveying what he wants, it’s weird for me too, but daddy feels almost as good as this hug does,” Ben tightened up again and lifted Oliver up out of the seat.

“Oh, we should go flying again,” Oliver suggested, finally saying something he actually wanted for himself.

“How? I don’t have a plane and I can’t afford one,” Ben shook his head slightly, picking up Oliver closer to his shoulder and under his arm, as he stretched out of the chair.

“Let me worry about it. Is that it? Just some changes to my vocabulary? Surely, he wants something else from me.”

Ben thought of the question, and then finally answered Oliver. “He, I, we want you to see the world the way we do,” He closed his eyes and took a long breath, “It’s going to be hard for you here Oliver. I want to show you something.”

Ben slid to the corner window, carrying his son at his chest. With his free arm Benjamin slowly pushed up. The warm wet fresh air coming through the screen was a contrast to the musky office. Below was the sound of nature, wind, water and birds, the sound of distant cars, and the occasional student. Benjamin pointed one hundred feet down and across the parking lot at a group of students throwing a frisbee. From here they looked like twigs, each brightly dressed man no larger than Oliver’s thumb.

“I saw those boys earlier. Look at that disc thrower on the east side team. He is close now, just watch him. The one in the back who just threw,” Oliver could barely see the players, but he knew they had to be normal height. The ten littles ran back and forth on the grassy space, throwing, blocking, and catching. They had an energy and frenetic pace, but none were advancing to a goal. One team would make a play, and then be undone just as quickly.

“It’s just ultimate frisbee. This could be any college in America. What am I looking for?” Oliver tilted his head; Ben had rested Oliver’s feet slightly on the windowsill and propped him up from behind so he could look down at the students.

“See that woman behind the tree? She’s had her eye on the game since they started,” Oliver could barely make out the tall woman, another twenty-five feet away, she was young, her face obscured by auburn windswept hair, and her audacious oversized sunglasses. She looked like she could have been feeding the squirrels, or perhaps reading a novel under the shade. Oliver watched her, after a difficult round, the disc thrower marched to the shared water containers, and lifted it to his mouth, drenching his front and face. The woman’s attention was on him as he drank, her mouth and face were hidden behind her book.

The young man Ben had pointed out set out for another play from his own in-zone, throwing the frisbee disc with extreme vigor, soaring above the other team far past their goal lines. The nine players ran chasing after the disc, whereas the star thrower turned and put his hands on his knees. He looked exhausted, and while shouting and plays continued fifty feet away, he walked off the field slowly and with a wobble.

Oliver leaned into the glass and looked at the man. He was small, only an ant, but his walk had turned odd, like he was sick. The figurine grabbed at his stomach and then looked around. No one seemed to notice he had left the game. The player shifted a bit, and then in a deliberate movement crouched down. It did not look like a man bending over to heave or as though he was trying to sit to recover his breath. This was a dog. He was an animal scootching in the yard into the right spot. The man held his front legs for a few seconds and then stood up. Oliver was too far away to see the smile, then horror come to the little’s face.

The frisbee landed a few feet from him. The player looked at it, jumping anxiously away from it confused. He backed away to the other corner of the infield. The rest of the team slowly approached, and he held up his arms to stop them.

“Metamorphosis. He’s entering his cocoon.” Benjamin explained, “His body just signaled it is ready for a new mommy.”

The giant was faster than the small ones. She threw the book behind her and leapt up; her girthy legs bounding twenty feet in a second. No one interrupted her as she dove like an owl and snatched the little up. He struggled a bit in her arms. The other nine littles watched. None moved.

“She’s abducting him! Stop her!” Oliver slapped the window. “Hey” he tried yelling, his voice drowned by distance and strong spring wind. “Stop her!” He yelled again.

“You see the littles as you see yourself, but they lack courage. They are not like you and me. They would never sacrifice themselves or put themselves in danger. Watch them. They’re going to scatter.” Benjamin was cold in his voice. His arms had loosened enough to let Oliver struggle, but he kept him at the window, forcing him to watch in the betrayal of the small one by his friends.

“They outnumber her. If they worked together, they could stop her,” Oliver’s statement fell to no one. Benjamin was right in his prophecy. The nine turned and ran in different directions. Behind another tree a waiting amazon dove in and grabbed one. A third woman snatched up one that was trying to run to the street, saving him from intersecting an oncoming car.

“That’s… hmm, her name escapes me. Ms. Tobin, maybe. Nice student, I think she just finished her master’s this semester. Had her in one of my undergrad courses a few years back. She’s been planning this for a while. You’d see her out at the pond each week, watching the littles play. Those are a couple of her friends. I saw her switch out the water jugs during an early pitch just as we were coming in.”

Oliver looked up at the man, and then down at the scene below, “This is evil. We can stop it, Ben. We can run down and stop it. He had a future.”

Benjamin shook his head, “It’s just the way things are. Sometimes you’re the Earth, sometimes you’re the Terra, but here it is all Amazonia. This is necessary. The symbiosis, the baby and the mommy. Yes, it destroys a man, but it also creates something new, precious, wonderful. A loving family. Where there was two, now there is one.”

“You said she was a student, maybe we can e-mail her. I can put some hypnosis in the e-mail and…”

Benjamin shook his head, “No, let it go Oliver. Let this whole planet go. Just be a happy child for me. You’re not here to save the world. You’re not here to free the littles.” Ben’s large finger pushed in on Oliver’s nose slightly, and the boy’s small hand came up and rubbed an eyeball. Ben’s son had too much emotion for his tiny body, he dreamed too big, and those dreams now needed to come out of his face.

“You’re right,” Oliver came in close to Ben’s chest, “but, maybe we can still make things better.”

Benjamin nodded and returned to his computer. He pulled up his address book and searched down to the old student’s name and began composing a letter.

To my former student

Janet Tobin

Congratulations on becoming a new mother. I have just become a new father myself. Once he gets settled maybe he can come and play with Oliver, he is not from around here and wants to make new friends. Since you were always such a brilliant and curious student, I wanted to invite you to read something that’s still early in development. It’s from another student of mine and needs work, but it’s on alternative techniques for raising small ones in a more natural fashion. I have attached a copy of the last draft of his thesis, and it goes into detail of some of the practices the small ones had back on their island to deal with their condition. Let me know if it is of any help.

It was great to see you again,

Ben

Benjamin paused on the signature and looked down at Oliver who seemed satisfied with what he had written. Oliver looked up past his glasses and into Benjamin’s large eyes. “You’re him now.”

“Benjamin Young”

The giant was whole again. Oliver may have forced him to see the world through tiny eyes, to understand what it was to be small, but that was never who Ben or Benjamin was. He had been given a gift, and now he had to return the favor. Oliver needed to see the world as the giants did, to learn why their way was better. This perspective, not protection, not helping with his mission, not going to amusement parks or flying in planes, was what Oliver needed. The boy needed a man in his life to show him the path, to be a mentor and a role model. In time Oliver would learn to appreciate the superiority of Amazonia culture and ways, and he would put aside his dreams of liberating the world.

Ben could remember Earth, but he could not remember a single pleasure as joyous as a hug from his new son. This was the better world.

“Thank you, Oliver,” Benjamin started, “We have one more stop today. I think you’re going to like it.”

He let the boy to the ground and Oliver slowly made his way to the door, struggling on the tip of his toes to reach the handle and then slowly pull the door open for the giant. The smaller man scootched backwards putting his full weight into the heavy wood. Benjamin came forward and held the door easily with a few fingers. Oliver returned to Ben’s legs and the two walked into the hallway, the boy’s hand slowly reaching up to grasp Ben’s side as they entered the stuffy darker corridor.

“Just one last thing before we leave here Oliver.”

Oliver’s face tilted and looked up at his new father, his body was coming down from the adrenaline of watching the enslavement of another human being. Oliver’s face tired from the range of emotions of finally having his best friend back, only to lose him again in the complex vortex of that was the mixed consciousness of Ben and Benjamin.

“Do you need to use the restroom?”

Oliver’s face went white in shock, and he looked down at his drenched palms. He had been holding it in and had not even noticed. Oliver nodded, “Yes, daddy, I think I need to go potty.”