by P. S. Power
Now she was made in the same mold, but would be considered attractive, he thought. Without being truly top end that way. Too much of a good thing was as bad as not enough. That idea had taken him a while to understand, on a personal level. Rather, he’d done it academically easily enough, but his deeper mind had pushed people into being incredible visions as he worked on them for nearly seven years. Then, eventually, he’d learned to communicate with that portion of himself, his control over the changes being made becoming more predictable and to his personal plan.
With this particular person, he’d chosen a fit appearance, with a good face. She’d been a bit broad, without being fat before. Now she had medium sized hips, a narrow but muscular waist and breasts that were the same size, but designed in such a way that presented a bit more prominently. It all added to a picture that virtually screamed about how healthy she was. Her very skin was free of blemish now, as well.
Finally, after nearly forty minutes, she blinked up at him, the sturdy chair she was in not making any noise as she moved, being constructed of bent metal as it was.
“Um, the itching stopped?”
He held out his hand for the amulet, turning it off before taking it back, using a bit of focused intent. There was no harm in healing when you didn’t need it, but it wouldn’t help him that day, he knew.
“Good. We should run you through the paces of your change. We need a mirror first, so you can see yourself. Is it possible to have one brought in, or we could go to such a thing?” The trick, of course, would be to show off to her friends. Unless she didn’t like the work done.
That was rare. At least when he did things. Even at that, the people with the Infection had, universally, been grateful for the efforts that were done on their behalf so far. Thousands of them, with not even a single complaint, even if tails or strange tufted ears had to be left in place on occasion.
The woman, Pam, stood up, doing it a bit more easily than she would have before. Not so much that she slapped against the ceiling above or anything. He hadn’t made her that powerful, not in the shape she was in at the moment. A few times stronger, but she mastered that instantly, as if expecting it.
They headed for the other room, moving quickly enough to show that her limbs were functioning well. Dan, the guard that had been placed on him, followed along, no more than four feet behind them. Behind Timon, to be exact. Ready, it seemed, to physically attack, or at least stop, anyone who tried to take advantage of his tender flesh.
One could have suspected that he was a prisoner, but that honestly didn’t seem to be the case. The man was well and truly focused on the idea of keeping Pam and the other women there from taking liberties with him. Only that. It came from the man so powerfully that Tim could pick up on it from his field with no effort at all.
They ended up heading to the right, to a door that, as it turned out, took them to Pam’s chamber. There was a mirror inside on a low table. Everyone there, including her friends, gathered around, admiring the work. The woman herself touched her right cheek with a single finger.
“Wow. So this is actually real? Quick, someone try to piss me off, so I can see if my mode is still there.” She laughed about it.
Dan spoke, instantly.
“You’re pretty enough that you should be able to make a lot more money turning tricks now.”
Rather than blow up, over what had to be the man implying that she was a whore, there was a bemused snort.
“You’ll have to do better than that… Which means that my first mode is actually gone? That’s…” She smiled then, tearing up as C. C. hugged her from behind.
The smaller woman, who felt older, had tears in her own eyes as well.
“That’s incredible! I don’t know if you saying that will be enough to convince some people of how effective this is. Not even looking better. To a lot of people here, you were already perfect, so that won’t mean as much.”
Timon had been prepared for that part of things, having encountered the lack of faith some Infected had in regards to his work, before. At first. They tended to come around in fairly short order, once he’d had a while to work on them.
Not that his work was perfect, all the time.
“Imagine yourself to be filled with foam, expanding.” He’d build the trigger idea for the change based on what others had used in the past. People from the culture he was in at that moment. It wasn’t what he’d have used for a person from Noram, but they understood magic better. He grinned though and waved her up.
“Stand, first? Otherwise we might knock the furnishings about.”
That took place easily, with good humor.
Then, taking a few minutes to get the right mental idea, the woman finally changed. It was fast, taking place much like the alteration of Mr. Bayless. Keith as they were calling him that day. The look was very different, being a black armored covering that glistened a bit, leaving the woman looking slightly like a beetle, instead of a lobster. The color was a bit better too. Not that lavender wasn’t an attractive shade, of course.
She gasped, her voice sounding different in her newer form.
“Okay, this isn’t exactly like Keith, is it?”
The large goat man, Clover, laughed at the words.
“No… You look ready to be in a movie though. Is it just armor? I mean, does it really protect her or is it just about looks?”
Tim understood what he was getting at.
“In this form she has all the powers that Mr. Bayless does. A toughened exterior, greater strength and good speed. You’re a bit larger, so I’m afraid your clothing didn’t make it. We can replace those, I’m sure.” That wasn’t truly an oversight, though not letting her know first had been. She was taller in her armored form, being nearly six-nine.
Rather than wait for him to leave the room, being an unknown to her, she transformed without needing instruction, the rags that had been her outfit hanging off of her. Rather than get upset over it, she laughed and started pulling them off.
“Okay, so I need to invest in some spandex! On the good side, I can pull that look off now.” She glanced at her middle and then, finally, realized there were several men present. “Hey! You pervs get out of here. Go on now. I’ll find something and be out in a few minutes. I’ll need to go and get some food, soon. I can show off my new tricks then? Maybe…” She grimaced then, meaning it.
Then she looked at Timon, and hunched her shoulders a little.
“We have some other people that, maybe you could help? Is that…”
He nodded then, easily enough. The work took time and effort, but that was all.
“Yes. We should see to a trip for everyone back to my home for that, if people are willing? I can stay for a while and work here, of course. It’s just that the flow of time is different there. For each day I’m here slightly over eight passes there. I hear tell that my wife and friends miss me, if I stay away too long.”
Everyone looked away then, as if still doubting that he wasn’t from there, or something. Even Pam was. After having seen the magical amulet that he’d provided. That was a bit odd, given that he’d have had to be incredibly powerful in the Infection to pull off what he’d done and produce a healing amulet.
Then, it was clear that the woman was only seeing what she expected. That was normal enough, of course. Most people did that, most of the time. Even he did it on occasion and he knew better.
Smiling, he followed the others to what seemed like the central area of the compound. A place used to provide hot meals for everyone there. They certainly had enough to go around that day. Then, it was possible that they’d used much of their food stores, to impress the guests they had. Even poor villages back home would do things like that. Even if they were close to starving.
Pam hadn’t dressed really, taking a sturdy blanket from her bed to wrap around herself, instead. Then, once in the center space she waved her free right arm.
“Everyone! This is Tim Baker. He’s a wizard from a different reality. Um,
he made some changes in me, using magic? My first mode is gone. I mean, you all know that I’m a bitch, right? Not any more, as far as I can tell. Plus, well, here, watch. Just so you’ll know it’s all real.” She dropped the blanket then, and after a moment of silence, a fellow that looked a bit like an upright rat clapped his hands together.
His voice was high pitched, but otherwise very articulate.
“Nice! You were good before, but that’s some pretty high-end work there. You look forty pounds lighter and it’s all in the right places.” The man stopped and rubbed at the whiskers he had on the right side of his face. “Which means I’m a horrible person for noticing. Sorry there, Pam-Pam.” He seemed to mean the words, but the woman waved them away.
Instead she nodded.
“I noticed that too. That’s not… Let me see if I can do this. We did it this way so I could prove this really works. So, um, here…”
When she changed there was a gasp. Then, after a few moments, people applauded, putting their hands together as if it were a show. More than a few of them moved in to touch her, which she allowed.
The rat seeming fellow did it first, even if he was nearly shaking in fear as he tried it.
“This is real. If it isn’t then I can’t tell the difference. Does it last if you leave, Tim?”
The use of his familiar name was odd, but in keeping with the people there, he knew. Then, the man calling him that would, almost certainly, treat him like a true friend from then on. Not perfectly, but enough so that it wasn’t an insult to be called by name there, too quickly. At home it might be years before people did that kind of thing with one another.
So he smiled and bowed toward the man, getting one back. No one else did it, which would have indicated that the rat was the one in charge there, under his world’s rules.
“It’s permanent. Who would like to go next? You perhaps, sir?” He spoke to the slightly fearful and timid seeming rodent-man, realizing that, even knowing better, he was suddenly acting as if the fellow were in command there.
Pam-Pam, still armored and being touched, nodded her black head. Her eyes were shining bulbs that reflected the light from the ceiling rather well. They looked damp, but weren’t. Her voice was different when she spoke, seeming inhuman and stringing out as if she had several vocal cords that worked in tandem. She did, in her new form. Three of them. It gave her a very different sound.
“That works. It will take a bit. About the same as it did with me? Ryan, you should do that as soon as Tim here is ready for you. Then… I don’t know, Grasshopper? If you want to give it a try. He can’t do everything, I don’t think.” She seemed slightly hesitant then, and looked over at him, her black face blank.
Timon nodded.
“That’s correct. So far, we’ve been able to remove the first modes, every time. The Infection doesn’t seem to care about that. Your powers and at times shapes, are more needed for its plans, so it won’t allow all of them to be altered. It isn’t intractable on those points, most of the time, but it can vary, so I don’t wish to promise too much.”
The rat-man, who seemed to be called Ryan, which was a good enough name for a man, shrugged. It was a bit twitchy seeming.
“That sounds like you’re saying that the Infection is a person.” His mouth twitched, into a hint of a smile.
Timon nodded then. Most of the people of the world he was in didn’t know that part of things at all. Even if it had been on their television, or so he’d been informed.
“It’s a massive entity that spans several realities. It has a plan in place, hence the powers that you were given. The first modes are an amplification of the main emotional or mental traits you held at the time of the change. A side effect of the process only. So far, the Infection has been rather kind in allowing those to be altered. The rest as well, to be honest. You might end up having to have a tail, or perhaps some other ability which the world will need, later. I can’t say, until I do the work and interact with it on your behalf.”
As he spoke, Pam-Pam altered her form, back to what it had been before. Her new look, which had as many people staring at her as the glossy black armor had, if for different reasons. She quickly wrapped up in her blanket again, then moved off to get food. The changes tended to make people very hungry.
He called out to her, not feeling that way himself at all.
“You’ll need protein, after the change! Eat that first, if possible.”
Then he bowed toward Ryan.
“We can go to another location? It will take some hours, sir.”
Clover laughed a bit, his voice slightly embarrassed, even as he spoke.
“See, it’s like he knows you’re the King Rat already.” A few others chuckled and some groaned at the words.
Timon merely bowed lower. After all, even if it was a jest of some sort, the man was a king. Insulting him might be a poor plan, given that. Kings tended to have armies, after all. The small man bowed back, matching him in angle, which was polite, even if he couldn’t know it.
“Sure? Let’s do that. If I can get rid of the constant fear and maybe not need to sleep eighteen hours a day? That and better looks, if I’m asking for the moon anyway? You can make me look like you, right?” He started to walk off then, clearly planning to stop after a bit, as part of a jest.
Timon simply moved with him, taking a few large strides at first, then matching him once he caught up.
“We can most likely do all of that. At least in some form. We should hurry, if that isn’t an imposition on you? My friends Mr. Yi and Miss Chambers both mentioned that there was a possible attempt to attack you here. We should stay updated on that, if we can.”
The rat nodded, as if the words were sensible.
“Yeah. Complex put us in lockdown for the time being. There are no doors or anything at all, right now. I hope this blows over soon. I’m a bit afraid of tight spaces. Not that the Underground is tiny, but… It’s smaller when I can’t get out on my own, you know?”
It was, perhaps, a bit odd, but he truly did understand how that worked. He was feeling it too, now that he knew leaving wasn’t a simple option. It made sense to bar the doors of the castle though, if they were under siege. He forced himself to relax, and started to concentrate, getting ready to make the changes to the man next to him that would be wished for. If he could.
It was challenging, therefore interesting, to work on Infected people. The one with him wasn’t so different that he needed special techniques to be used or anything, as far as Tim could tell. That didn’t mean he could stint on the planning. Just in case there were greater internal differences than he could easily see from the outside.
To that end he touched the man, using his own thoughts and mind. Experiencing his pattern, the field of information that made him up. It was done as they moved. Internally, he seemed very much like a normal man. The bones were lighter and stronger, the muscle tissue different, but the basic construction was the same.
It meant that he could do the work without endangering the tiny man’s life. If it was allowed.
He was taken to another chamber, this one nearly devoid of things, other than a bed and a chest for clothing. There wasn’t even a chair to sit on, so Timon had to dig out an amulet he had, that would cause one to appear. A thing made of virtual particles, meaning it wasn’t there at all. It looked like a well-padded place to sit though, and was malleable enough that he could change it to both fit the tailed form of Ryan, and high enough that Timon wouldn’t have to bend in half for five or six hours while he worked.
He explained the process first, which wasn’t hard for the person being worked on, except that they had to stay somewhat still for a long time. That could be hard for high energy people, but most managed it well enough. Ryan simply nodded once, then went still. As if paralyzed in fear.
After that, things became a lot more interesting.
The Infection didn’t really speak to him. Not in words, pictures or even emotions. Instead it used pure ideas to commu
nicate. There was a strong sense of what Ryan was supposed to do, later in life. Also, what powers he needed to have, in order for the plan to work. What that, the plan, was, the Infection had never explained to him. That there was something, was clear. In fact, the rules for Ryan were, if anything, the most complex and picky that the Infection had ever set for him.
For the first time, Timon found himself having to argue with the Infection over what he wanted to do. The thing wasn’t just resisting the changes, at first, but actually stopping him. Mainly because of the way that Ryan thought of the world. His first mode was fearfulness, which informed and altered his actions in a way that the Infection wanted.
The part where he looked like a rat was far more changeable. Indeed, it was as if the rest of his powers, other than some speed, weren’t needed at all. It was all about having a sense of danger and being willing to run away.
After half an hour of going back and forth, Timon started to set up the idea of the man simply feeling that fear, with a more sensitive and advanced precognition, instead. That, it seemed, was going to be allowed. The rest of the picture was redesigned carefully, but Timon had to admit, even in his nearly perfect focus, he was a bit distracted. That showed, to him at least, when the work was done and the tiny rat man in front of him was handed the healing amulet.
There was no screaming in pain, but it was clear that the rapid changes were pretty intense. The problem came about half an hour in, after the form had melted and come back into his new shape. The man was small, of course, being about a foot taller than he had been and thin. Mainly because the man simply hadn’t had a lot of mass before, to work with. That wasn’t the real issue, of course.
His face was.
Timon had to keep himself from groaning, when he saw it. Ryan didn’t have a mirror, but stood when gestured to do it and felt his backside.
“No tail? No fur?” He felt his face then and seemed baffled for a second. “No whiskers or pointed nose? Do I… Look normal?”