AR Archive : AR Central Stories

Chapter 3
Kid A

Chapter Description: A youth serum causes more than a little chaos in a small community. (Guess which band I was listening to at the time...)

[p]Prologue

[p]--------------------------------

[p]"Everything in its right place," was the first line of poetry written by Alan Bateman... and also the last. One of the luxeries normally afforded by old age is the leisure time to poetically record one’s memoirs, carefully piecing together all one can remember about his existence on planet Earth. This was not to be so for Alan Bateman, or anyone who knew him as a matter of fact. Quite ca
Prologue

--------------------------------

"Everything in its right place," was the first line of poetry written by Alan Bateman... and also the last. One of the luxeries normally afforded by old age is the leisure time to poetically record one’s memoirs, carefully piecing together all one can remember about his existence on planet Earth. This was not to be so for Alan Bateman, or anyone who knew him as a matter of fact. Quite casually, Alan Bateman ended the world on June 15th, 2001. Well, not "ended" as in the fire and explosions we all associate with the chapters of Revelation, but simply the world as we know it. It wasn’t as much a premeditated event as a massive, global experiment, that is, a scientific blunder. After all, didn’t we all assume that a scientific blunder would be our downfall eventually?

Dr. Bateman was above all else, a man of science and reason. And being such, he realized quite early in his life that he desired more than simply a page in some future textbook. Whatever he created he wished to see through to completion, but, as Descartes wrote, there is not enough time in one man’s life to solve the mysteries of the world. This was the impetus behind Dr. Bateman’s doomed experiment, Kid A.

Where Did Vincent Van Gogh?

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Shannon Mosley was struggling to keep her sanity. Becoming a partner had certainly been a welcome prospect but she never realized how much work the job entailed. Her nervous ticks were becoming so frequent she had to resort to Sonata to fall asleep every night. Today had been especially busy, with several clients attempting to schedule emergency appointments, having broken every law from shoplifting to extortion.

"Make it all end," she mumbled to herself, shuffling through the Kilamanjaro of paperwork that covered her desk. She dreamed of later that night when she had a date planned with her new boyfriend. Of course, the way things were going, her kids would probably call her up during the climax of the film (or possibly other things).

Shannon used to be one of those people who mocked the so-called "stressed out people" at work. She contended that stress is only a figment of one’s imagination, and if you truly distract yourself from any discomfort, you will rise above the pain and worry. This theory, however, had not been working particularly well lately. When she first began this job, she had been fierce and agressive, so much so that her co-workers referred to her as as one of the "Hitler Youth." And although the title was somewhat accurate, she had definitely become more sluggish with her cases. But all that was about to change, as she heard her secretary suddenly speak through the intercom:

"Shannon, there’s a little boy-- I don’t know what-- he says he’s... I can’t stop him..."

Just that moment, a boy no older than 8 came in through the door, with clothing draped on him. A confused look ran across Shannon’s face. What could a little kid want with me? she wondered. Just then, her secretary burst through the door, panting.

"I couldn’t catch him!" she wheezed.

"It’s all right. I’ll take care of it," Shannon motioned for the secretary to exit.

"I have to talk to you," the child sat down in the over-sized swivel chair opposite Shannon.

"I’m afraid you’re not allowed in here, honey," she said. "Maybe you could--"

"No. I need to speak with a lawyer," the child added, his words sounded uncharacteristicly grown-up.

"Now, what would you want with a lawyer? Did someone out there tell you to do this?" Shannon quizzed him.

"No, ma’am, I’m here because I have no where to turn to. I want to bring charges against Dr.Bate--"

"Whoa, slow down there bud, now should you be in school?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"For the last time, I need to bring charges agai--"

"Honey, I can’t do anything for you. You’re just a little kid, ok?"

The child stopped, and made a massive grimace. He slowly leaned over to the desk. "I am not a child," he said plainly.

"Ohhh well, of course you aren’t. But I need to talk to your parents, ok?" Shannon patronized.

"I... am... not... a... CHILD!"

Shannon stopped talking.

The child continued, "Once again, I am not a child. I am 19 years old. My name is Vincent Cardeau. And I am a victim of a revolutionary new procedure. I know you don’t believe me, but do I sound like an 8 year old to you??"

"No, you don’t," Shannon admitted.

"OK then, hear me out. As I said, I am a victim of a new procedure. I have been infected with some kind of retro-disease invented by a man named Dr. Bateman. He is a professor at the local university. I was one of his students, you see. And as extra credit, I came with him to his lab one day to perform some experiments outside of class. The laboratory is full of odd inventions and what not, and he invited me to sit in a chair next to his main lab table. Before I could react, Bateman injected some sort of blue-ish liquid into me; I don’t know what it was... I didn’t have time to look..."

Shannon noticed something funny about Vincent, as he was talking. It seemed as if she had to look further down to see him than she had when he had first say down. Strange she thought.

"... And I, of course, objected and tried to run away. He lunged at me, but I narrowly made it out of the place. And about 15 minutes after that, I started noticing something different, like a wave of current running through me, like nothing I had ever felt before. It didn’t take long for me to notice that I was, in fact, growing younger! That’s why I look like a little boy to you! An hour ago, I was a college student. You’ve got to believe me! No one else will!"

In mild shock at what she was hearing, Shannon ran her hand through her hair. This was certainly a first. How does one react to such a story? Usually disbelief, which was Shannon’s first thought. But something else had occured to her... Vincent did not look as old as he had when he came in the room. His appearance at first had been around that of a 3rd grader or so... now, his face was rounder, and chubier, like baby fat...

"This sounds like a prank," Shannon said, still watching Vincent intently.

"It is no prank. I am growing progressively younger every minute and I need someone to believe me. Your practice was the closest place I could find! PLEASE!"

Shannon had to agree; Vincent looked younger, more like a first grader now. His hair had faded to a lighter shade than it had been a minute ago. Something was definitely wrong about this.

The Accidental Discovery

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On his way home from baseball practice, Michael Mosley liked to take the short cut down Bourbon Street, and in behind the houses. He was an average young man for his age, going to high school, trying to meet girls, playing baseball. Fairly All-American, much like his brother, Patrick. Michael had shaggy brown hair, and a few manly sproutings on his chin. Not terribly tall or muscular, but certainly anyone would say he was fit.

The coast was clear as usual and Michael made his way behind the houses in the neighborhood. He weaved his usual pattern through the trees and bushes. Glancing off to his right, he saw the old abandoned barn where Mr. Wickerson used to hang tobacco. Something was different today though; one of the doors was hanging wide open. That’s odd Michael thought Nobody’s been in there for years. Departing from his normal pathway, Michael curiously made his way to the crusty barn. The old joke "termites holding hands" came to mind. It certainly was rickety. Slowly crouching down, Michael moved close to the door and peered in.

It was a sight not to be believed. It was like finding a CD changer and leather seats inside a rusted out Yugo. It looked like a scene out of some science fiction film: rows of wires, tubes, mechanisms, syringes, and technical machinery that looked WAY ahead of its time. The entire room had a glossy metallic sheen as blue lights shined down from the ceiling. Holy shitMichael mumbled to himself, walking around the lab. He was in awe of this seemingly space-age set-up in Mr. Wickerson’s old barn. What could anyone possibly want with all this? And in a barn??? he wondered aloud.

On one table sat a device that looked like a ray-gun out of Flash Gordon. Michael picked it up, mentally appraising its authenticity. It didn’t look like anything real, but rather a prop from some B movie set. But something about it seemed more real than real. Michael examined the top of the machine, trying to make sense of the digital displays. Above one LCD screen, it read "SRU: Stored Regression Units" and above another it read, "RUI: Regression Unit Influx." What a trip Michael thought.

Not wanting to leave his discovery unprovable, he tucked the gun down into his backpack and zipped the top. How else would his friends or even his brother for that matter believe him without a little tangible evidence?

Doctor, My Age

----------------------------

Shannon, still reeling from what was already an unbelieveable experience, sat back in her black leather chair. What could one possibly say to such a thing? The boy sitting in her office was growing younger right before her eyes. With each tick of the clock, this boy’s body was racing backward through time itself.

"Do you believe me?" Vincent asked insistently over and over again.

"I don’t know what to believe, Vincent," a puzzled Shannon admitted. "But I know one thing... you don’t look the same as when you came in here. Just look at your clothes. They’re even bigger on you than before!"

"See!" Vincent said, his voice now completely indistinguishable from a little girl’s.

"Maybe we need to have you examined," Shannon suggested, tapping her pencil nervously on the desk. "I think I know who to take you to."

--->

The car ride to Shannon’s doctor, or rather her kids’ doctor, was a tense one. Vincent appeared to be no more than a tiny kindergartener now, with baby fat appearing on his cheeks. His little eyes stared up at her, making her both frustrated and nervous at the same time.

"Can I get you anything?" she asked, trying to break the silence.

But the silence continued, as did Vincent’s regression into early childhood. It seemed to be moving at a much faster rate now than it had earlier... much like when a VCR is rewinding a tape and gets faster towards the end. Though Vincent had only lost 3 years in the time Shannon had met him, he was starting to look like a completely different person, as growth spurts often, or a lack of them, often do to people. Shannon quietly wondered what substance could possibly do this to a human being, and futhermore, what larger implications did this truly have? If growth can be reversed this rapidly, what would that mean for civilization?

But Shannon’s philosophizing soong came to a halt when she reached her kids’ pediatrician. She turned to Vincent, who was submerged in a wad of oversized clothing in the passenger seat, his innocent baby face just barely poking through.

"C’mon, Vincent. We need to get you in there," Shannon said, as she heaved him out of the seat, losing some heaps of clothing in the process. "I’ll try my best to figure out what went wrong with you, ok?" Vincent was silent.

After nearly yelling at the nurse at the front desk, Shannon proceeded to carry Vincent into the doctor’s office, Dr. Palmer’s office to be exact. Dr. Palmer had been a long time friend of the family, and Shannon knew she could rely on him to keep the sacred doctor/patient relationship confidential, which, in this case, might be more important than usual.

Oh hi, Shannon... who’s this little guy you got with you?" Dr. Palmer cheerfully chuckled.

"Well, this is a bit unorthodox, Dr. Palmer, but this happens to be one of my clients."

"A client? He barely looks 4 years old, Shannon. Now, really, who is this?" the doctor smiled.

"OK, he’s a friend... and I need for you to give him a check-up, err...well, can you just tell me if something is wrong with him?" Shannon gasped.

"Well, that’s a little general, Shannon, can you be more specific?"

"OK, can you tell me if his growth is normal... or, well, if he’s a normal growing child or not?" she asked, frantically.

"Sure, sure... just sit the big guy down right over there," Dr. Palmer pointed to a small covered examining table. After gathering some supplies, DR. Palmer turned to the examining table, and right away noticed something. "Hey, is that the same kid you brought in here? I mean, I just turned my back for 30 seconds and he’s..."

"Exactly," Shannon replied.

Dr. Palmer eyed Vincent as he walked over to examine him. Vincent was now around 2 years old, and nothing more than a babbling toddler, hardly capable of even expressing himself.

"Oh, Vincent! Vincent! Can you talk to me?" Shannon whined, seeing that her client was now back in diaper days. Vincent only gurgled and moaned, kicking his tiny wrinkled feet in the air. Dr. Palmer removed what was left of Vincent’s "clothing" and started to feel his pulse. Just then, a small dribble of pee ran down the side of the table.

"Nurse," Dr. Palmer yelled at the door, "Could you get me a diaper in here?"

Within seconds, a nurse promptly came in and began diapering young Vincent. Shannon had now watched the entire procession, and could only hang her head, speechless. The 8 year old kid who had walked in her office not half an hour ago was now lying on his back in Dr. Palmer’s office, being diapered by some nurse who had no clue what was going on. This was the definition of unreal.

The Open Backpack

-----------------------

Michael heaved a gigantic sigh as he flung his backpack into the closest chair to the front door. Somehow, thoughts of the extravagant laboratory he had witnessed earlier seemed to be forgotten upon entering the house. The warm smell of familiarity rid him of his excitement, and all he could think of was how much homework he had piled up in the recesses of his room. Michael was a master of procrastination, known the world throughout... well, maybe just around school. First and foremost, he was athletic to the bone, your quintessential 15 year old prototype. Sports occupied his mind like Soma, and the only thing that momentarily took his focus off of that was Michelle Anderson.

"Hey bozo, what’s up?" Patrick blurted out as he rounded the corner of the living room.

"Nothing much, asshole," Michael replied, smiling.

"I’m telling-- You said asshole!"

Both of the boys turned to see their little gap-toothed sister, Courtney, standing in the hallway. Courtney had just turned 6, and she was quite accustomed to getting her way. The flipside of that was that she was incredibly smart for her age, putting her two brothers to chame regularly. And for that, the boys could be rather cruel to their little darling sister.

"No, you’re not!" Michael laughed, chasing Courtney down the dimly lit hallway. Courtney rounded the corner into her room, but Michael’s longer legs caught up to her before she could slam the door. He picked the little whining girl up, as she beat him with her fists.

"That’s not fair! You’re taller than me!" she complained, endlessly. Michael set Courtney down on the couch.

"Don’t you have some little freinds to play around with?" Patrick asked, crossing his arms in a fatherly way.

"Yes, I have lots of friends. But you said--"

"Ah Ah Ah... you know what happens when Mr. Mouth tells Ms. Mom," Michael warned her. She pulled her legs up indian style and made her best pouting face.

"It’s still not--" she started in.

"Scrub Scrub, Courtney!" Michael made a gesture like washing...

All three of them knew what Michael was talking about. It all boiled down to Courtney’s extreme modesty. Whenever she threatened to reveal the boys to their mom, they would strip her down and give her a good old fashioned bath, which Courtney loathed tremendously. Normally kids that young aren’t so picky about their bodies, but suffice it to say, Courtney was ahead of her time. Blame the Britney Spears videos on Disney.

So, while Courtney continued pouting and scrunching up her lip, Michael and Patrick made their way to the backyard for a little one on one.

Courtney could hear them as they left:

"Guess I’ll have to let you win again, huh?"

"In your dreams, dickhead..."

After the tension stopped and Courtney knew they were gone, she calmed down quickly. Glancing around the room, she noticed Michael’s backpack was lying in the chair across the room... not its usual resting place. So, being the intensely jealous little sister that she was, she hobbled over to the blue sack. The zipper was halway open and Courtney could see something shiny sticking out, that looked kinda like a squirt gun. She carefully opened the bag the rest of the way and removed the shiny object. Entranced, she took all of it in. It was, after all, rather beautiful in a Star Wars kind of way.

Hmmm she thought out loud. She ad no clue what the big words on it meant. Regrresso? Ragressa? Courtney had been an early reader, but not early enough to know what that stuff meant. But she knew she liked squirt guns, especially Super-Soakers. With that thought, she carried the gun upstairs and into one of the bathrooms in the house, and figured she’d try to load it. Hmmm. I wonder what this does...

OUTSIDE

Michael and Patrick were fiercely going at it, trying their best to emulate basketball stars on TV. The game had to be postponed a moment though, seeing as that their mother just pulled up in her Ford Explorer. Looking harried, she hastily slammed the door and addressed the boys:

"Boys?" Shannon said. They paid no attention.

"BOYS?!?" she spoke up, and their heads turned.

"Yeah, Mom? Wazzup?"

"Shannon fiddled with her keys saying, "Boys, you know I was planning to out tonight, but it looks like I’m going to have to work late... so I want you to watch out for Courtney, ok?"

They reluctantly agreed.

"All right then... Now I don’t want any fun stuff, ok? You be careful and take care of her!" Shannon ended, getting back in the Explorer. The two boys looks at each other and shrugged, going immediately back to basketball the second Shannon departed.

The Squirt Gun w/ Extra Features

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"La ti di la ti di," Courtney hummed as she happily started the water running in the tub.

The gun didn’t seem to have a hole for the water, she thought. Where am I sposed to put the water? she questioned herself. The gun wasn’t your normal Super-Soaker, that was for sure. It had little screens on it and junk. She took a stab at it and pressed a random button; the machine lit up. The screen under "Regression Unit Intake" read "10+" and, of course, Courtney had no idea what that meant, but it fascinated her all the same. Under "Regression SET," it read "Influx" and "Outflow" and it seemed to be asking which one she wanted. The gun wouldn’t do anything unless she punched one of the choices on the touch sensitive screen, so she guessed again and pressed "Outflow." Then, the screen appeared: "Units of Outflow?" followed by "10%, 20%..." all the way up to "100%." This is fun Courtney giggled.

Once again randomly picked a setting, she pressed "100%" and watched to see what happened next. Finally, the question popped up: "INTEL - Yes or No." It was all completely and utterly foreign to her, but Courtney pressed "yes," since that seemed to be affirmative.

"Now start up!" she said at the device. The screens began changing colors, and Courtney was elated... it was actually follwing her orders. First red, then blue, then finally green. Something clicked in Courtney’s mind (green=go?) and she figured the machine was now on and maybe she could shoot something. Of course there wasn’t any water in it, so it wasn’t like she was going to get wet or anything. So, in classic childish bravado, she flipped the gun around and aimed it at herself, giggling. Courtney pulled the trigger.

That second, a sharp blue laser light came out of the gun and struck Courtney square in the chest. "Oh!" she squeaked, feeling a electrical current run up and down, through her body. It was pleasurable, but intense at the same time. Courtney instantly began to feel changes, as she dropped the gun on the floor. Her head was swirling, like that time she had fallen off the swingset at day-care. Sickness started to rise up in her stomach, and she started coughing.

Following that, Courtney stood up, trying to get her bearings. The electricity flowed through every inch of her little body... and along with it the feeling of expansion, and pressing. In a complete fog, Courtney grabbed a hold of the nearby sink. The floor seemed to be going away, or not going away rather, but getting farther away. Courtney held her other hand up in front of her face. It was bigger! And her fingers were getting longer! Her pants now streched mercilessly over her legs. Also, her shirt was starting to get uncomfortably tight. She noticed she could now reach higher on the sink as well! What’s happening? she muttered helplessly in her mind. But she continued to grow, escalating in height and maturity. She spun around to the sink and the mirror... I can see myself in the mirror! she cried. And Courtney wasn’t looking like the 6 year old she had been minutes ago. She was older! Like 10! Her hair had grown longer and thicker, like all those shampoo commercials she saw. It wasn’t stopping either... she soon felt two bumps begin to grow on her chest and she knew exactly what they were! Gaining size second by second, Courtney’s breasts were ripening rapidly, jutting her one more step closer to adulthood all the time. She looked down, cupping them in her hands. This is GREAT! she screamed, surprised by her much deeper voice. It all seemed to make sense though... she was no longer barely 6 years old. She was grown up, and best of all, she understood it perfectly! She was now as old as Patrick!

Confrontation and Consequences

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Courtney’s clothes were ripping, and she knew she needed to find something more suitable to don. She remembered Mom saying something about keeping her cheerleading outfits from high school, and hurriedly rushed to her mother’s bedroom across the hall. Courtney’s old clothes were almost about to split completely and fall totally off her, so she sped through the drawers, in search of Mom’s cheerleading garb (hoping it wouldn’t be too tacky).

"There it is!" Courtney exclaimed, happy to find fitting clothes.

She proceeded to tear off her baby clothes, leaving her in the buff. As she reached down to thread her leg into the first pantleg, she caught a glimpse of herself in Shannon’s full-length mirror. Not too bad for a girl who was flat as a board ten minutes ago she thought. And she definitely wasn’t used to anything hanging off her chest when she leaned over. Thrilling to say the least. It appeared the cheerleader uniform was going to fit nicely, but Courtney was going to need a bra, and there didn’t appear to be one in the drawer, so she had to settle for one of her mom’s bright, flowery-covered ones. God only knew why she liked such things.

After she applied her better-fitting attire, she sat down on the bed for a moment to look at the device again. Courtney had always been smart, and now was no different... only she had the added wisdom of 10 years on her side. The gun’s instructions seemed fairly self-explanatory now. I mean, who DOESN’T know what Regression means?

I know two boys who probably don’t she snickered, as vast, endless streams of ideas started flowing through her brain.

OUTSIDE

The heated basketball rivalry was reaching a climax outside, as Michale and Patrick competed for the title in their imaginary play-off game. Both had worked up a raging sweat at this point, which made sense seeing as the game were perfectly tied up. Heaving and panting, Patrick tossed a lay-up into the goal, and Michael shouted: "Damnit!" The two headed for their water-bottles lying in the grass nearby.

Before they reached them however, the back door started to open... and out came a beautiful sandy-blonde girl who looked to be about sweet sixteen. Michael and Patrick stopped in their tracks.

"Surprise, boys!" she shouted, raising her arms in the air. The dynamic duo shot confused glances at each other, wondering why in the world a sexy cheerleader would suddenly walk out of their back door.

"Don’tcha recognize me, guys?" The question met with no replies. Michael looked at Patrick and Patrick at Michael, both tinking she looked quite a bit like someone they knew, but couldn’t place. "OK, let’s try this," she said, "Scrub Scrub?"

Both of the boys’ faces made the same expression of awe, mouths gaping wide. No, it couldn’t be true Patrick thought to himself No one goes from being 6 years old to 16 in a half hour! Michael’s thought-waves were running about the same frequency. It was, of course, scientifically impossible that their little sister could have grown up in a matter of minutes.

Courtney let out a rather evil laugh, as her "big brothers" stared at her new shapely body. The fact that she knew "scrub, scrub" perplexed them, since it was an incredibly exclusive in-joke between the three of them. They both had to admit, though, that this girl DID in fact look like a grown up Courtney. But it was still impossible for the boys to match this pretty, petite 16-year-old to their former bratty baby sister.

"You might be wondering how I got this way, eh?" she said, pulling the Ageflux gun out from behind her back. Michael immediately recognized it, and pointed.

"That’s mine!" Michael yelled.

"Not anymore, it’s not. I found out exactly what this little baby is capable of," she noted, fingering the trigger.

"And what is that?" Patrick asked.

"It’s an age-changing machine," Courtney explained, "that’s why I’m ... well, shall we say bigger, now?" The boys gulped a massive gulp simultaneously. "It can take years away or add them to anything you point it at. Pretty cool, huh?"

The boys were in shock. Niether of them said a word, as they watched their younger sister strut around on the back porch, wearing a skin tight cheerleader uniform that accentuated her, well, new acquisitions.

"Let me see it," Michael lunged toward Courtney, "I found it first!"

"Ah ah ah ah... I think I better hold on to it," Courtney said, laughing to herself at her two brothers’ faces.

"Wh... what are you going to do?" Patrick muttered, afraid of what Courtney might have in store for them.

"You’ll see, Patrick," Courtney giggled.

"This is ridiuculous! Give me the gun right now! I’m the oldest!" Patrick finally shouted at Courtney, as she started punching button on the gun.

"Oldest?" she asked, pointing the gun at Patrick, who immedtiately felt a thin beam of blue light pass through his chest. "Let’s see what this thing does in reverse!"

Michael watched in clear horror as he witnessed his brother start to shrink in size, his sleeves already becoming too long for him.

"Stop it!" Patrick yelled, furiously.

But Courtney kept the ray directly on Patrick and wacthed as he slowly began to de-age. She saw the number on the "Regression Unit Intake" screen go up by 2. It’s working! The ray was sucking years out of Patrick and into the machine! Hey, if there are more years stored in the gun, the older I can make myself! Courtney realized. Patrick conitnued to grow smaller, and less mature. The beginning of a beard he so proudly donned were all gone now, with the exception of a few lone hairs. His muscle tone was also decreasing, going back to his younger years when basketball hadn’t yet toned them up.

"Quit it!" Michael screamed as he ran at Courtney full speed.

"Hold it! You wanna get younger too, Michael?" she said, acting as if she were going to turn the ray at him. Michael capitulated, and held his position. The thought of himself getting any younger was too much to bear. He returned his gaze to Patrick, who now looked about 10 years old at the most. Michael could gauge this well because he and Patrick had been so close their whole lives, and it was frightening to see his own brother pass backward through puberty. His clothes now hung on his childish frame, with the end of his sleeves hanging far past his hands. Courtney watched, as the screen lit up 3 more years, and it thrilled her. A surge of power ran through Courtney as she exacted revenge on her big brother. Watching him slowly reduced to a child was invigorating, and almost sexual in its overtones. Courtney smiled, realizing she still had Michael to deal with.

Meanwhile, Patrick’s body crept gradually back to early childhood, with his face losing quite a bit of its maturity, and falling gracefully back to his formative years. No more than 5 now, Courtney read the indicator at "11" now. That meant Patrick was now younger than she had been! She, of course, had never seen her brother at this age, and she had to admit he was a cutie. His little cheeks were fattening up and his pudgy appendages made him quite adorable.

"Nooo, please!" Patrick whined, now with a pathetically high voice that had not accompanied him since pre-school.

"I wanna see you in diapers, Patrick!" Courtney sqealed with delight.

When the ray finally let up, Patrick was lying on the ground in a heap of former basketball clothes, no more than 1 year old.

"Scrub, Scrub"

-------------------------

Inside, Courtney sat little Patrick on the couch and instructed Michael to sit down next to him, waving the gun.

"OK, you two, now that you’ve seen the power of this machine, I would think you want to get on my good side," Courtney remarked, matter-of-factly. "So, from now on, you will do as I say and if you stray one inch, I’ll use this thing to even greater effect. Now, Michael, take a good look at your brother. You won’t be playing basketball any time soon, and you certainly won’t be making fun of me. In fact, since I don’t want you guys to contact Mom somehow, I’m gonna do things your way."

"Why, Courtney?" Michael nearly started crying.

"Well, I’m rather fond of my new body, as I’m sure you know why," Courtney gestured at her breasts. "I really like this grown up thing. Yes, yes, this is much better suited to my maturity level, I think."

Courtney lifted up her shirt and exposed her lucious breasts. "Yes, this feels pretty good, guys. In some sick way, I’ll bet you want to feel it too, eh?" Courtney laughed. "But you two seem like you’re better suited for a younger age... something closer to your mentality."

"What are you going to do to us?" Michael softly asked.

"Only what you would do to me."

IN THE BATHROOM

Courtney herded Michael into the upstairs bathroom, and carried baby Patrick, now incapable of rebellion, in her arms. Michael knew what was coming... the dreaded "scrub, scrub" routine where they used to strip little Courtney down to her birthday suit and give her a coerced bath. Courtney began:

"Well, Michael, I guess you know what comes next." She started the water running, and put the stopper in the drain. "But I can’t very well see make YOU strip down too, seeing as you are nearly my age."

Michael breathed a sigh of relief.

"So, I guess we’ll just have to make you a little younger too, so you won’t be so embarassed," Courtney added.

"No, please don’t make me younger! I’ll do whatever you want! I swear! Just don’t make me any younger, ok??" Michael pleaded, almost getting on his hands and knees.

"I’m afraid there’s no other way," she said as she fired the beam at Michael. He instantaneously felt the shock, and the mildly pleasurable electric tingling. He could already feel his clothes getting big on him, and knew he was getting shorter.

"PLEEAASSEEE!!!!"

Michael’s regression took a year off, then another year... leaving him an 8th grader or so. He was now more awkward, having lost some of puberty’s handiwork. His fingers were retracting, and his whisps of facial hair disappeared into his chin. The hair on his arms also changed back into white-blondeish, then completely went away.

"This isn’t fair!" Michael said in the voice he had had in the 6th grade.

"What is fair, Michael, or should I say Mikey?"

The beam was relentless and it shaved another 2 years off him, leaving him the scrawny 4th grader he had been 5 years ago. When Courtney stopped the ray, Michael was now a 7 year old, with his jacket draped on him like a circus tent. Courtney layed Patrick down next to the tub and walked over to Michael. She now stood significantly higher than her big brother, casting a shadow over him. She could see that his tearducts were beginning to well-up with tears, but that didn’t get in her way...

"Now’s the fun part!" she said, as she pulled the now-huged jacket off of Michael. He finally let loose and Courtney could see a single tear run down his innocent looking cheek. "Aw, don’t worry," she said, squatting down to his level, "bathtime can be fun!" She yanked the remaining clothes off Michael’s body. He stared down in disbelief at his much younger self. He had grown so accustomed to seeing it a certain way that it now seemed totally foreign, almost as if it were someone else’s body. And the embarassment -- the EMBARASSMENT -- of having his sister be a hot 16 year old while he was a naked 2nd grader, with not much to show down below... was terrifying like a bad dream.

Courtney ordered Michael into the tub, and he capitulated once again to her demands, stepping nervously into the tub.

"Now, here’s your bro!" she said, handing baby Patrick to Michael. Michael stared down at his reduced, infant brother in tears. The only thought running through his mind was: if only things would be back to normal...

Courtney glanced at the readout on the gun. Hmmm, might need more than 23 years to play around with.

The Chamber

---------------------

Across town, a desperate Alan Bateman’s fears were growing that the public would soon be on to his little experiments. His Ageflux gun had been missing all day, and something inside him told him it had to do with that Vincent kid. Damnit, why did he have to get away? Bateman thought.

But there were more important matters at hand. The jewel of Bateman’s collection was a new Youth Chamber or RTC (ReTrogression Chamber) that stored up radiation and could emit youthizing waves at long distances. He intended to use it as a kind of service to the population and anyone who wished to pay for it could get a personal treatment and be made whatever age they wished. Tonight was to be Bateman’s first test of the machine.

It was a large cylindrical tube that would fill with a quasi-violet gas. Of course, Bateman had no one to release the energy upon at the moment, so he simply began the process to make sure the gas properly filled the tank.

He entered a series of complex keystrokes and turned on a few of the digital monitors... all appeared to be nominal. But the board was beginning to smoke and Bateman rushed to the panel and tried to stop the machine, but it wasn’t responding to the password. he enetered it again and again.

"Damn, Damn!" he repeatedly yelled, as a large spark jumped off the controls and hit his hand. It knocked him away from the panel, and on to the floor. Bateman could hardly tell where he was the shock was so sudden. The room seemed to be spinning and he couldn’t tell were he had landed... he could, however, tell that an electrical tingle was moving throughout his body.

END OF KID A - PART 1

Continuity

---------------------

Michael, now a puny 8-year-old cradled his older brother in his arms, as Courtney proceeded the parade of humiliation, even going as far as throwing some kid’s toys in the tub for effect.

"We should probably take a picture of this!" Courtney sniveled, becoming quite sarcastic in her old age. "You two are so cute, you know it? Make sure you get yourselves clean and soapy."

Michael could barely hold in his frustration, and he could see the anger mixed with fright in his brother’s face, which had been rendered fairly inexpressive. This is wild, so wild Michael tried to grasp the situation but repeatedly failed. He was still waiting to wake up.

"Hmm... you’re probably upset cuz you’re not so close anymore, aren’t you? What do you say Michael? How’s about we get some more years in this thing?" Courtney whistled.

"Courtney, no, don’t make--"

It was once again too little too late as Courtney aimed the AgeFlux gun at Michael and squeezed the trigger. Courtney watch the RUI count go up.

"I’ve decided that I like being older, so I’ll just shave a few more years off ya, Mikey."

"BUT I’M--" Michael tried to say something, but it was utterly futile. He was heading even closer to his brother’s age, looking rather 1st grade-ish now.

"You see, the more years I have in this thing, the more leway I’ll have in changing my age. I’m thinking I might even have a little bit more growing to do with regard to my you-know-whats," Courtney squeezed her left breast. "Who knows? Maybe I’ll get another cup size out of these things. Of course, you won’t be old enough to appreciate them, but trust me, I think it’s well worth the wait... which should be about 3 minutes," Courtney talked through her plan.

When Courtney finished "intaking regression units," Michael was left a 2-year-old, now sitting in a much larger-seeming bathtub. His cheeks were red as tears poured down them in floods.

"Hmmm, you were kinda chubby as a baby, weren’t you?" she remarked, looking at her former antagonizer. "Still very cute though! We’ll have to show you to Mommy when she gets home."

Michael started praying please, please... let Mom straighten this out and make Courtney give me back my years! Courtney then put her hands under Mikey’s little hairless armpits and lifted both of them out of the water and set them on the towel.

"Better dry you two off."

Michael had thought the humiliation couldn’t get any worse, but having his teenage sister wipe off his little pee-pee was about as bad anything he could think of. She seemed so monstrous, like a giant almost. The angles had been reversed and it was now Courtney giving menacing stares down at him. He could only hope that his mother would get home soon.

As Courtney set Mikey down, she started on baby Patrick, "We’ll probably need to get some Pampers for you two. Maybe Mom has some left-overs from when I was..." Courtney realized she no longer wanted to even think about that, "...we’ll find some. Don’t worry. I think you’ll be OK, Mikey, so you just hang tight in your birthday suit, ok?" Courtney laughed.

"Another 5 years should do it," Courtney noted, reading the RUI screen. "Hmmm, I don’t want to be too terribly old though... we’ll just see."

Patrick, lying on the floor, covered only by a towel, started to cry. His little legs were kicking up in the air frantically, hoping someone other than Courtney would come to his aid.

"Shhh, shhhh... it’s time for me to do a little make-over," Courtney said, entering in the digits she desired, along with a boost in intelligence, of course. She hadn’t used the INTEL option with her brothers; after all, it wouldn’t be as fun if they didn’t know what was happening to them, would it? After setting the INTEL option to "ON", she flipped the gun around just as she had before, only this time with eager anticipation of more than a squirt in the face.

The beam engulfed her and filled the room with a blue light hue. It seemed that aging often took a little while longer than regressing, but no matter. She could tell she was growing... steadily becoming more mature and adult-faced. She giggled with delight as she felt her shirt get tighter and tighter.

"Yes!" She screamed, with the electric pleasure surging through her. She could hardly wait to look at herself in the mirror; there was nothing like the thrill of getting something so much sooner than you thought you would. Michael and Patrick took in the view as their little sister grew even older before their eyes, and, regrettably, more beautiful with every passing second. Her hips widened, features sharpened, bust enlarged, legs lengthened, lips ripened, and everything was coming into place.

When it was over, Courtney quickly turned to the slightly fogged up mirror and her mouth dropped open.

"Oh my God, OH MY GOD! I look like a model!"

She cupped her impressive mounds and massaged them. Every part of her was so grown up now, and she had only added 3 years! Michael sat, in pure shock, gazing at his radiant sister. The worst part was she really did look like a model, maybe even a supermodel. Everyone had always said she was cute as a child, but no one ever anticipated her blossming into such a piece of perfection.

"I’m a wet dream waiting to happen!" she said, giving her best smile for the mirror. "I’m gonna go see if I can find some of Mom’s clothes!" Courtney rushed out the door, leaving Michael and Patrick to sit and wonder how all this could have happened. Michael didn’t know what to be more surprised about: the fact that he was now 2 years old and sitting bare butt on the floor of the upstairs bathroom or that his bratty kid sister was now rivaling Claudia Schiffer in the sex department.

When Courtney reentered the bathroom, she was no longer in the ill-fitting cheerleader uniform but something more comfortable for her size. And the evil feeling hit her again, and she looked down at little Michael and started laughing so hard she nearly cried.

"Look at you! My big nasty brother’s gonna need a pacifier! Bet you wish you had a few years back now, don’t ya? So you could humiliate me again and scrub me down, huh? Well, I happen to very well endowed now and you’re just a toddler. And that’s the way you’re going to stay, Michael. You hear me? I’m never going back to being a kindergartener. No way. But I’m sure you’ll like it... in about 4 years." Courtney was practically diabolical at this point.

Mother, Do You Think They’ll Drop The Bomb?

----------------------------------------------

A thump could be heard downstairs, and the two boys (or infants rather) felt a welling up of hope, hoping their mother would remedy the situation, forcing Courtney to return them to normal. But the situation was still volatile, and they both knew it. Michael started wishing Court had reduced their intelligence along with their age; at least they wouldn’t have to realize how humiliated they were.

"Oh, looks like Mommy is home," Courtney said, picked little Patrick up on her arm. "C’mon, Mikey," she said, holding her hand down to help him up. Somehow standing up made the blushing factor even higher... now nothing was covered up. He complied, knowing he had no choice, and maybe, just maybe, Mom would straighten this out.

The stairs were a much more daunting task now that Michael was merely a toddler; he had to grab a hold of the railings just to make it down each step. Everyone was wondering how Shannon would take the news; she certainly wouldn’t believe it at first. The trip down the stairs nearly drained Michael of all his energy, but he managed to balance precariously on each step. His soft little feet and hands didn’t afford much traction.

Shannon was in a daze. The entire day had been too much for one nervous system; she had spent the day trying to track down the mysterious laboratory that Vincent spoke of before he became too young to speak. Shannon had carted baby Vincent around all day, doing her investigation, and she was virtually zapped of life. Shannon had indeed found the laboratory, and she had brought with her a sample, some piece of technology that resembles a hard drive, but read "CHRON-DRIVE" on the outside of the casing. She set both it and baby Vincent (whom she felt such sympathy for) down on the living room couch.

"Whew," Shannon sighed, starting to brew some coffee, "this day couldn’t get any weirder."

At that point, her 3 children rounded the corner and Shannon spilled Sanka all over the floor.

"WHO ARE YOU? WHAT ARE DOING IN MY HOUSE?" she backed away from the counter, picking up a nearby knife.

"Mom," Courtney said quite calmly, "don’t you know who I am?"

"Mom? Where do you get off calling me ’Mom’? I’m going to call the police if you don’t explain what this is," Shannon desperately tried to think.

"I’M Courtney! I’m your daughter! Can’t you see it?" Courtney thought it would be more obvious to her poor mother.

"No, you’re not! My daughter is only 6 years old! What have you done with them?"

"Shhhh, Mom, it’s ok," Courtney nonchalantly motioned, "I am your daughter. But I’ve used a device, all right? I’ve used a device to make myself older. Michael brought it home in his backpack... don’t know where from, but the point is... it can change people’s ages, isn’t that great?"

At that moment, little Michael broke free of Courtney’s grip and ran to his mother, who now towered over him. And right then, Shannon ultimately realized what had happened to her children. There were her children! This kid looks exactly like Michael did when he was a baby! she thought it couldn’t be anyone else... I know that face! The revelation was staggering, especially in light of her experience with Vincent, whom was lying on the couch, asleep, a newborn. Thought, feeling, emotions, and everything imaginatble went through Shannon’s already overworked head. But somehow it made sense. Somehow, she was able to believe that this beautiful young lady was in fact telling the truth. This was Courtney! And that meant that she was holding none other than her eldest son Patrick in her arms. And the naked 2-year-old clawing at her pants was her adventurous son, Michael.

Shannon headed immediately for the medicine cabinet in the kitchen and popped a couple Lortabs in her mouth. Sweat ran down her forehead and she tried to calm her own nerves. The severe shock of having her children switch ages had sent her into a kind of panic. Heart racing, she found the nearest chair and sat down.

Courtney stood in the doorway, gently rocking Patrick up and down. She waited for the right moment and began her speech to Shannon:

"Mom... um... Mom, I know this is all fairly fantastic, but I want you to know that you can deal with this. You’ve just got to look at it in the right way. I mean, you’ve always told me I was intelligent and to use that. I even heard you say several time how you thought I was more mature than my brothers, even at 6. This could really be a blessing. You know how you said you always wanted to have another child, but you didn’t think the boys could handle it? Well, they can be the ones! You know you can trust me... I’ll help around the house more, and help you take care of Michael and Patrick. See, it’ll work better this way..."

Shannon listened to the argument coming from her much-more-grown-up daughter. She marveled at how pretty her daughter had become, and it made her proud in a way. The truth was she always had trusted Courtney even more than Michael or Patrick. And somehow, the mother/daughter bond was simply stronger than the ones she had with the boys. She had always felt that they never really connected, something hadn’t sparked between them. But Courtney. Courtney had been her pride and joy, being the smart, funny little daughter she had always wanted. And well, look at her now, all grown up, and Shannon was forced to admit, stunning. Certainly more stunning than she’d ever been at any age. In fact, she wondered how the her loins could have ever produced such an Aphrodite. And in a strange, otherworldy way, her argument seemd to make sense. The cherubic toddler still clinging to her pants may not have been the "right" age, but he was definitely more controllable... and adorable. Shannon mused on how much fun it might be for her and her daughter to help re-raise Michael and Patrick together. Lacking a husband, maybe Courtney really could be her saving grace.

Michael’s eyes started to well up, as he noticed his mom was actually considering Courtney’s argument! Oh my God, what if I end up like this permanently? I can’t be stuck like this! I’m 15, not 2! Michael frantically tried to muster a way to distract his mother before Courtney had truly convinced her.

"... So, Mom, you see? It would be better this way," Courtney finally concluded her statement.

Michael could see in his mother’s eyes that it was too late. She glanced down at him with a motherly expression, and he knew she wasn’t going to force Courtney to give him his years back. She liked him this way! This was cemented by the next words out of Shannon’s mouth...

"Courtney?" Shannon asked.

"Yes, Mom?"

"Today has been too much. I really can’t think straight right now, and the fact that you’re 19 years old isn’t helping. But your point is well taken... and... and... I still don’t know what to do. But I’m going to ask you to help me. There is a laboratory a few miles away. I need to go back there to try to find a Dr. Bateman. I had a client today... who was turned into a baby just like Michael and Patrick have been. So, I can believe you about this... and as strange as it may seem, something about seeing the boys this way... it just makes me want to have them be that way again," Shannon gave a motherly smile.

I can’t believe it! Michael thought She’s siding with COURTNEY! She’s going to keep me like this! Or even younger! No, no, no, no... Michael’s brain overloaded, as he fell to his butt, crying.

Shannon looked down at her little sweetness, with a look of pure motherly compassion.

"Awwww, C’mere..." she lifted Michael up to her lap. Almost that instant, she felt the overwhelming desire to have Michael be even younger. She looked at Courtney:

"Courtney?"

"Yes, Mom?"

"This may sound weird, but could you make Michael a little younger? Something makes me want to--"

"Yes."

Courtney entered into the gun a few digits, and set the gun for INTEL-ON and fired the ray at Michael. Unafraid of the strangeness anymore, Shannon’s eyes lit up as she watched her son go from 2 years old to a babe of only 6 months. His transformation excited her, in some odd way, and she felt the sudden urge to breastfeed baby Michael, just the way things used to be. She lifted her shirt off, and removed her bra. Michael was now completely an infant, in mind and body. He happily sucked away, as Shannon somehow produced milk from her rush of motherly love.

Courtney smiled a brilliant smile.

Dr. Strangeage

----------------------------

It had been the fear Bateman had most tried to avoid, the malfunction of his own creation... on himself no less. The shock sent through him from the board had affected him, whether he wanted to admit it or not. At the first sign of de-aging, he tried every possible combination of keystrokes to somehow reverse the effects of the electrical current that sparked from the board. His gray hairs had long since disappeared and he dreaded looking in the mirror, for he knew how the regression process would most likely speed up over time.

At one point, he had planned to use the device for such an end, to extend his own lifetime and see his creations to fruition...but not this early. And to add to the panic, not only had his AgeFlux Gun disappeared, but also a CHRON-DRIVE, which also controlled age but was not yet fully operational. He couldn’t decide why someone would take such a thing from his lab... but the fact remained that he was getting younger... and younger... and people would soon be on to him.

The actual Regression Chamber was still unfixable. The purple gas was quickly filling the tube, reaching dangerous levels. God only knew what would happen if the tank were to explode...

Bateman himself was no more than a teenager, and he could feel his mind slipping closer to its origins but by bit, he was forgetting the codes, the passwords...

Michelle, Ma Belle

--------------------------

"OK," said Shannon, speaking to Courtney, "I know what the source of all this is. There is a man named Dr. Bateman who operates a secret laboratory in town. He’s apparently obsessed with aging, and has created a series of machines... one of which I guess Michael found and brought home. Anyway, I’ve found where Bateman hides out, but when I got there, no one was in the lab. He may already know that someone is on to him. Whatever the case, I don’t know what tricks he might have up his sleeve and I don’t want to go back alone, but I need to find out what’s going on here. I want you to come with me, Courtney. I’m going to get someone to babysitt Michael and Patrick, and, well, you know that client I talked about before?"

"Yes."

"He’s asleep on the couch right now... only a newborn. So, will you go with me?"

"Whatever you want me to do," Courtney feigned allegence.

"Good. Now do you know of anyone aho might be available to babysitt? Wait-- what am I talking about? I was having you babysat earlier today!"

Courtney didn’t mind rubbing the salt even fruther in the wound. "I know who would be good," she announced.

"You do? Who?" Shannon asked.

"Michelle Anderson. She just lives right up the block," Courtney winked. She knew it would be the ultimate turn-around to have Michelle Anderson, Michael’s sweetheart, babysit him. The girl who once gave Michael 20 minute stiffies was now going to diaper him! How great was that?

"Well, we have to get anyone who can," Shannon added, setting Michael down on the couch next to Vincent. "I’ll find her in the phone book... Anderson you said, right?"

"Right."

As luck (or Michael’s bad luck) might have it, Michelle was free that night, although she wondered why Michael and Patrick couldn’t just babysit their own little sister.

"Michelle is on her way," Shannon said, rummaging through a closet full of the kids’ old baby clothes. She found a particularly nice little sleeper for Michael, but she figured she’d better diaper Patrick first. He was beginning to look rather strained, and uncomfortable.

"Courtney, honey, here’s a few diapers that must have been left over. Could you please diaper Patrick?" Shannon suggested.

"Sure, Mom, no problem." It was going to be such a nice change having her mature daughter around.

Patrick offered little resistance, but still retained his mental faculties. A massive Courtney loomed over him. She still have that devious smile drawn on her face, and Patrick was still in horror.

"OK, here we go, Patrick," she said, sliding the fresh diaper under his miniature tush. His tiny manhood stuck straight up, not impressive in the least. He tried to detach himself from the circumstances but Courtney’s devil-grin kept him concentrating on how humiliated he was. She was an angel to look at, too good to be true... but this was not the way it should be. She didn’t deserve to be so much older than him.

While Shannon was out of the room, Courtney got an idea and pressed the INTEL-OFF button on the AgeFlux Gun and shot it at Michael. He didn’t change size, of course, but Courtney knew full well what she was doing. She wanted Michael to be fully aware that his dream girl was going to see him as a baby.

When Michelle walked in the door, you could see the infant Michael’s petrified reaction, even on his underdeveloped face. He began to squirm and writh, like something was hurting him repeatedly. The expression on his face was not unlike a man (or shall we say baby) hanging from the edge of a thousand foot drop. No, it can’t be her... Michael regained his 15 year old faculties and stared in horror at his high school crush, the glorious Michelle Anderson. She was wearing a tight top, displaying her ample busom for all to see.

"Hello? Ms. Mosley?" she called, from the front door, wiping her feet at the welcome mat.

"Yes, yes..." Shannon said from the next room. "Be right with you..."

Michael had a good view of Michelle, the buxom biracial beauty that she was. Too bad she was even more impressive from a low angle, or in Michael’s case, a very low angle. He felt his stomach tie itself in knots and Michelle turned her attention to the couch. She hadn’t thought Ms. Mosley had so many kids...

Shannon emerged from the kitchen and greeted Michelle, thanking her for coming on such short notice.

"Are these all yours?" Michelle asked pointing to Vincent, Michael, and Patrick.

"Oh, no, the two on the couch are my sister’s... and the one on the floor is... um... well, he’s my sister’s too," Shannon tried to make up an explanation off the cuff.

Just then, Courtney entered the room, and made eye contact with Michelle.

"Oh, hi Michelle... you probably don’t know me... I’m Michael and Patrick’s cousin... from Boston," Courtney ad-libbed.

"Nice to meet you... I’m afraid Michael and Patrick never mentioned anything about a cousin," Michelle remarked, running her hands through her flowing black hair.

"Oh well, that’s like them. They can be so immature sometimes," Courtney laughed, looking directly at baby Michael, now clad in a nice baby sleeper and looking extremely frustrated.

"Let me tell you where things will be, OK?" Shannon led Michelle to the closet in the hallway off the living room. "There are several clean diapers in here, and also some other outfits in case any of them need changing. Also some wet wipes, I believe. There is some milk prepared in bottles in the kitchen; you’ll find them easily..."

"What’s that?" Michelle asked, pointing to what looked like a space-age computer tower nestled down in the closet. "I’m majoring in computer science at the university, but I’ve never heard of CHRON-DRIVE. Is it new?"

"Well, yes, it is. But you don’t need to worry about--"

"Because it doesn’t look anything like--"

"Nevermind, Michelle. Just take care of the babies, ok?" Shannon nervously tried to divert attention away from her stolen age device.

"All right... well, you guys have agood time doing whatever you’re going to do," Michelle chuckled.

"We will," Shannon replied, putting her coat on, "we should back by 2 or so."

"OK."

Shannon and Courtney closed the door behind them, leaving Michelle with 3 babies to handle. One of them appeared to be asleep. She sat Patrick up on the couch as well, and sat down, picking up Michael.

"Hmm, she didn’t tell me any of your names," Michelle said, bouncing Michael up and down softly. "You know, you look just like your cousin Michael. Same little nose. And you’re little friend looks just like Patrick."

Michael was in the 7th Circle of Hell, as the object of all his lustful desires held him up by the armpits.

"I guess I’ll just call you Michael and Patrick, since that’s who ya look like," Michelle wondered why Ms. Mosley had left in such a hurry. She seemed awfully rushed for just a night out at the movies or something. It must have been some kind of emergency.

Michelle gingerly placed Michael back on the couch and she visited the kitchen, in search of the bottles. They were there, just as Ms. Mosley had said they would be, obviously placed on the counter. She stuck one of them in the microwave and pressed START. Returning to the living room, Michelle picked Michael back up and cradled him in her arms. She held the nipple of the bottle up to Michael’s mouth.

"Here you go, Mikey... din din."

Michael took the bottle, only to not arouse any suspicions in Michelle that he was not really who she thought he was. Though physically incapable of much reaction, Michael couldn’t help btu stare into Michelle’s lucious boobs that were situated right in front of his little face. The agony, the torture... He was so close to them, he could touch them. He reached up with his tiny hand and felt of Michelle’s now incredibly huge-looking breasts, fantasizing in his pubescent 15-year-old mind about what it would be like to be old again and in the same position. The world had become so much larger, so much more intimidating. He was so grateful that Michelle at least did not know who she was rocking and feeding. He wanted so desperately to be back to his real age, and caressing those gorgeous C-Cups with his 15-year-old hands, knowing every inch of Michelle Anderson.

But he was merely a baby now, and a very small one at that, not even as old as his brother patrick anymore. And Michelle was still the picturesque college sophomore she had always been.

"Guess you’re not too hungry," she said, noticing Michael wasn’t particularly enthralled with the bottle.

Doubts

----------------------------

The SUV swerved, making quick lane changes. Shannon was driving ruthlessly to make it to Bateman’s hide-out. She was occasionally distracted though, by the familiar, yet alien 19-year-old in the seat next to her.

"You know, Courtney, I haven’t gotten the chance yet to tell you how... well... I probably don’t have to tell you, but you’ve gotten quite attractive," Shannon uncomfortably brought up the subject of her daughter’s immenent hot-ness.

"Thanks, Mom."

"I just mean that, if it’s going to stay this way... you know, me and you, and the boys staying younger... you’re going to start getting lots of attention. And I’m going to have to figure out a way of chaging our family records, and if your father ever found out..."

"What are you trying to say, Mom?" Courtney thought she knew where this was leading.

"It’s just that this transition is going to cause some problems for us that’s all... we might have to relocate... and that would mean losing my job," Shannon explained, "I just don’t know how we can make this work."

"Look," Courtney cut in, "I’m not going back to being a kindergartener, ok?"

Shannon was silent.

"Just so we’re clear on that," Courtney said, clutching the Ageflux Gun in her hand.

"Oh, yes, we’re clear," Shannon said, fearing her daughter’s reaction.

Courtney put the device back down at her side, fiddling with trigger. She better not try to stab me in the back Courtney fumed silently in the passenger seat.

CHRON-DRIVE

----------------------------

No matter she tried, Michelle couldn’t stop wondering what the computer tower-ish thing in the closet truly was, and why Ms. Mosley had been so quick to get her attention away from it. TV was boring tonight, and the babies certainly weren’t providing much entertainment. She serached Ms. Mosley’s CD collection but couldn’t find anything worth the trouble of taking out of a jewel case and actually playing. So, she dug through closet and found a small sticker on the side that had some kind of list of instructions.

"Oh well, what could it hurt?" Michelle said under her breath.

She dragged the device out of the closet, and sat in the center of the living room, trying to decifer the instructions. It was clear within second that this was not a normal CD-ROM drive or computer tower. In fact, there was no tray for a disc or anything even resembling one. It did, however, have a large circlular lens embedded in one side, that looked as if it would project something, like a film onto a screen.

"Weird," muttered Michelle, examining the machine. Michael and Patrick, and a waking Vincent watched, speechless of course, from the off-white couch.

She put the unit on its side, and examined the directions more closely: "1. Power On Unit, 2. Access digital display, 3. Enter desired age coordinates (Regression/Progression), 4. Press EXE to execute command, 5. Point device with opticals outward." All the directions seemed fairly foreign, except "Power On" and Michelle was perplexed.

When pressing power, the CHRON-DRIVE digital display lit up as it said it would. Immediately, the first question that appeared was "DESIRED AGE?"

"Desired age??" Michelle questioned aloud. She knew what "desires age" sounded like it meant, but figured that couldn’t be what it really was. Just for kicks, she entered the number "26".

Michelle laughed, "OK, make me 26! Haha." She pressed EXE, and sat back.

A blue glowing started in the eye of the lens, a kind of swirling like a lava lamp might look through a fisheye lens. Michelle didn’t know what to make of it, so she was about to stand up and puch the unit back into the closet. But before she did, a blue beam came out of the machine and hit her in the chest, making her entire body glow with an light blue hue. She quickly moved out of the way of the beam, but she could tell something felt wrong inside her. There was a churning and a burning in her stomach, and her body got a massive case of pins and needles.

"Whoa, what was that?"

The boys looked on, knowing Michelle had tampered with some device like the one that had regressed them, but they had no idea what it would do to her.

Michelle leaned over the machine to look at the display again. And with a sudden scare, she realized she hadn’t entered "26" but rather "2.6". The machine would not allow her to re-enter the number though, saying "ERROR: COMAND ALREADY COMPLETE."

Michelle sat back on the carpet and looked at herself. Was her sleeve getting a little long? Something was in the air; she just didn’t know what. Michael observed Michelle trying to decide what she had done to herself. She looked closely at her hands, and didn’t notice anything yet. Why am I worrying myself? Like "desired age" actually meant it could change my age Michelle rationalized. But the world was getting different, and she was being affected somehow. She checked the sleeve again and it was even farther past where it had been. She wiggled her toes around and felt more room in her shoes.

"What the HELL?" Michelle said.

Michael and Patrick struggled to see what was happening to Michelle and whether her age was changing at all. And Michelle did appear different, younger. The two badboys under he shirt didn’t seem to be bulging quite as much as they had been when he was being fed. Her face was starting to look a little younger as well, maybe more like she had looked 2 years ago when the Mosleys had moved into Michelle’s neighborhood. Michelle was periodically growing aware of the changes too. She stood up and her clothes were noticeably large on her body, he bra strap hanging slightly loose on her right shoulder. She looked down at her now baggy pants, and started to panic. She ran to the closest mirror and started appraising herself.

"My God," she said, "it is changing me. But I’m not getting older!"

Michelle screamed, gazing at her younger self in the mirror. Her breasts had now dwindled to half of their original wholesome goodness. She grabbed them, her eyes opening wide, realizing how small they had become. Michael watched the whole transformation, powerless to warn Michelle of what these machines could do. He could only lie on the edge of the couch, a 6-month-old child, witnessing his dream girl gradually lose her maturity. She was now younger and passed the point he had ever been priveleged to know her. She was fast approaching middle school age, and her face reflected the changes rapidly, going from very adult to much more childish in seconds. As the years melted away, Michelle continued screaming, her voice gradually becoming more like that of a little girl’s. At 4 minutes, she was about a 5th grader in appearance, her proud breasts having completely receded into her chest, leaving the sexless frontside of a child.

It was at this point that Michelle rushed over to the CHRON-DRIVE on the floor and started removing the paneling off the side. She could feel her memory slipping, but hoped she might be able to switch some kind of line and reverse the process. Fastly becoming a 3rd grader, little Michelle was working fiendishly to rewire the system. Michael saw his beloved Michelle going back in time, returning to her childhood just as he had, and he cried at the thought of it.

On the floor, a 7-year-old Michelle was close to tears as well...

Enter Bateman

-------------------------

Shannon and Courtney pulled up at Bateman’s barn/laboratory, and hurried inside. They were bathed in the blue light of Bateman’s mad-scientist-like lab, and craned their heads to look up at all the gadgets that inhabited this world in itself. The low hum of computer hardware made the room only more ominous. Screen, blips, tubes, wires, transistors, lights, computers, pipes surrounded them. To the far end of the lab was the Regression Chamber, still glowing bright with an intense purple gaseous substance. The readouts below it were increasing rapidly, but Bateman was nowhere to be found.

"This place is freaky," Courtney noted, staring into the swirling violet gas. It had an almost hypnotic effect.

"C’mon, we need to find Bateman," Shannon said, peeking in and under all the work desks and computer stands.

Courtney followed a trail of what appeared to be clothes back past the Regression Chamber. Behind it was cowering a little boy, no more than 4 years old. The shivering child tried to hide from Courtney, but she grabbed a hold of the only piece of clothing on the boy.

"Hey, who are you?" she asked. "It’s ok, I’m not going to hurt you. Can you tell me where to find Dr. Bateman? Do you know a man named Dr. Bateman?"

Shannon followed close behind and found Courtney talking to a shivering little boy.

"I’M ALAN BATEMAN," the child finally said, yanking his coat away from Courtney’s grip. Shannon and Courtney exchanged glances.

"Please, come back... we won’t hurt you. Just tell us... if you’re Alan Bateman, we just need to talk to you."

The boy spoke, saying: "Just get away. You don’t know what I’ve done."

"What are you talking about? What have you done? Tell us," Shannon said, staring the child down.

"Run. Run away now. It’s Kid A. The gas is volatile," the child said, clutching his coat.

"We don’t know what you’re talking about! What is Kid A??"

"You’ll see," the boy said as he ripped away from Courtney and ran behind the machinery.

"Maybe we can use the AgeFlux Gun to age you again," Courtney suggested, raising the gun and aiming at him.

"It’s no use," the boy said plainly, "I’ve tried that... I’ve been infected with a level of Kid A too high for that simple device. And to stop the machine, you’d have to know the self-destruct code..."

"Well, what is the self-destruct code?!?!?"

"I’m afraid," Bateman said, "I’ve forgotten."

Bateman was fast approaching babyhood, as his little face turned even more innocent. In a matter of minutes, Bateman had passed the point of no return.

No More Babysitter

--------------------

Back at the Mosley house, Michelle’s COMMAND had successfully been completed, leaving the former busty pin-up a 2 and half year old girl. She had managed to wander to the bathroom on the first floor and run a little bath.

"Want bubbles!" Michelle had said triumphantly, running water in the tub. She had searched the bathroom closet and found a nice pink bow for her hair and lots of great toys. Michael, Patrick, and Vincent had long given up and fallen asleep on the couch, not even old enough to get down by themselves.

Michelle’s regression had been full, however, and she was now a happy toddler in the bathtub without a care in the world, which wasn’t as bad as it might seem...

Exit Music (for a film)

--------------------------------

To complete this story, it should be noted that it was Alan Bateman who first realized how much trouble his inventions had caused, even in the hands of one average 15-year-old for one day. It had become obvious somewhere along the line that his ideas were doomed to overwhelm him and take over the world. Oh well, we all know the "best laid plans."

In June of 2001, the Regression Chamber exploded, letting the purple gas diffuse into the surrounding air, and eventually all around the world. The gas had indeed been so potent that it literally grew into epic proportions, engulfing the entire atmosphere of earth. It returned everything, including animals, to some sort of younger state. Of course, mass death occurred due to the lack of regulation of man-made machines, but as evolution often does, it made a way for the new era, and the world eventually grew back to maturity...

But Bateman’s laboratory still exists, and it’s only a matter of time until Kid A returns... someone only need know the initial code...

everything in its right place...

END OF KID A - PART 2

sually, Alan Bateman ended the world on June 15th, 2001. Well, not "ended" as in the fire and explosions we all associate with the chapters of Revelation, but simply the world as we know it. It wasn’t as much a premeditated event as a massive, global experiment, that is, a scientific blunder. After all, didn’t we all assume that a scientific blunder would be our downfall eventually?

[p]Dr. Bateman was above all else, a man of science and reason. And being such, he realized quite early in his life that he desired more than simply a page in some future textbook. Whatever he created he wished to see through to completion, but, as Descartes wrote, there is not enough time in one man’s life to solve the mysteries of the world. This was the impetus behind Dr. Bateman’s doomed experiment, Kid A.

[p]

[p]Where Did Vincent Van Gogh?

[p]----------------------------------

[p]Shannon Mosley was struggling to keep her sanity. Becoming a partner had certainly been a welcome prospect but she never realized how much work the job entailed. Her nervous ticks were becoming so frequent she had to resort to Sonata to fall asleep every night. Today had been especially busy, with several clients attempting to schedule emergency appointments, having broken every law from shoplifting to extortion.

[p]"Make it all end," she mumbled to herself, shuffling through the Kilamanjaro of paperwork that covered her desk. She dreamed of later that night when she had a date planned with her new boyfriend. Of course, the way things were going, her kids would probably call her up during the climax of the film (or possibly other things).

[p]Shannon used to be one of those people who mocked the so-called "stressed out people" at work. She contended that stress is only a figment of one’s imagination, and if you truly distract yourself from any discomfort, you will rise above the pain and worry. This theory, however, had not been working particularly well lately. When she first began this job, she had been fierce and agressive, so much so that her co-workers referred to her as as one of the "Hitler Youth." And although the title was somewhat accurate, she had definitely become more sluggish with her cases. But all that was about to change, as she heard her secretary suddenly speak through the intercom:

[p]"Shannon, there’s a little boy-- I don’t know what-- he says he’s... I can’t stop him..."

[p]Just that moment, a boy no older than 8 came in through the door, with clothing draped on him. A confused look ran across Shannon’s face. What could a little kid want with me? she wondered. Just then, her secretary burst through the door, panting.

[p]"I couldn’t catch him!" she wheezed.

[p]"It’s all right. I’ll take care of it," Shannon motioned for the secretary to exit.

[p]"I have to talk to you," the child sat down in the over-sized swivel chair opposite Shannon.

[p]"I’m afraid you’re not allowed in here, honey," she said. "Maybe you could--"

[p]"No. I need to speak with a lawyer," the child added, his words sounded uncharacteristicly grown-up.

[p]"Now, what would you want with a lawyer? Did someone out there tell you to do this?" Shannon quizzed him.

[p]"No, ma’am, I’m here because I have no where to turn to. I want to bring charges against Dr.Bate--"

[p]"Whoa, slow down there bud, now should you be in school?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

[p]"For the last time, I need to bring charges agai--"

[p]"Honey, I can’t do anything for you. You’re just a little kid, ok?"

[p]The child stopped, and made a massive grimace. He slowly leaned over to the desk. "I am not a child," he said plainly.

[p]"Ohhh well, of course you aren’t. But I need to talk to your parents, ok?" Shannon patronized.

[p]"I... am... not... a... CHILD!"

[p]Shannon stopped talking.

[p]The child continued, "Once again, I am not a child. I am 19 years old. My name is Vincent Cardeau. And I am a victim of a revolutionary new procedure. I know you don’t believe me, but do I sound like an 8 year old to you??"

[p]"No, you don’t," Shannon admitted.

[p]"OK then, hear me out. As I said, I am a victim of a new procedure. I have been infected with some kind of retro-disease invented by a man named Dr. Bateman. He is a professor at the local university. I was one of his students, you see. And as extra credit, I came with him to his lab one day to perform some experiments outside of class. The laboratory is full of odd inventions and what not, and he invited me to sit in a chair next to his main lab table. Before I could react, Bateman injected some sort of blue-ish liquid into me; I don’t know what it was... I didn’t have time to look..."

[p]Shannon noticed something funny about Vincent, as he was talking. It seemed as if she had to look further down to see him than she had when he had first say down. Strange she thought.

[p]"... And I, of course, objected and tried to run away. He lunged at me, but I narrowly made it out of the place. And about 15 minutes after that, I started noticing something different, like a wave of current running through me, like nothing I had ever felt before. It didn’t take long for me to notice that I was, in fact, growing younger! That’s why I look like a little boy to you! An hour ago, I was a college student. You’ve got to believe me! No one else will!"

[p]In mild shock at what she was hearing, Shannon ran her hand through her hair. This was certainly a first. How does one react to such a story? Usually disbelief, which was Shannon’s first thought. But something else had occured to her... Vincent did not look as old as he had when he came in the room. His appearance at first had been around that of a 3rd grader or so... now, his face was rounder, and chubier, like baby fat...

[p]"This sounds like a prank," Shannon said, still watching Vincent intently.

[p]"It is no prank. I am growing progressively younger every minute and I need someone to believe me. Your practice was the closest place I could find! PLEASE!"

[p]Shannon had to agree; Vincent looked younger, more like a first grader now. His hair had faded to a lighter shade than it had been a minute ago. Something was definitely wrong about this.

[p]The Accidental Discovery

[p]--------------------------------

[p]On his way home from baseball practice, Michael Mosley liked to take the short cut down Bourbon Street, and in behind the houses. He was an average young man for his age, going to high school, trying to meet girls, playing baseball. Fairly All-American, much like his brother, Patrick. Michael had shaggy brown hair, and a few manly sproutings on his chin. Not terribly tall or muscular, but certainly anyone would say he was fit.

[p]The coast was clear as usual and Michael made his way behind the houses in the neighborhood. He weaved his usual pattern through the trees and bushes. Glancing off to his right, he saw the old abandoned barn where Mr. Wickerson used to hang tobacco. Something was different today though; one of the doors was hanging wide open. That’s odd Michael thought Nobody’s been in there for years. Departing from his normal pathway, Michael curiously made his way to the crusty barn. The old joke "termites holding hands" came to mind. It certainly was rickety. Slowly crouching down, Michael moved close to the door and peered in.

[p]It was a sight not to be believed. It was like finding a CD changer and leather seats inside a rusted out Yugo. It looked like a scene out of some science fiction film: rows of wires, tubes, mechanisms, syringes, and technical machinery that looked WAY ahead of its time. The entire room had a glossy metallic sheen as blue lights shined down from the ceiling. Holy shitMichael mumbled to himself, walking around the lab. He was in awe of this seemingly space-age set-up in Mr. Wickerson’s old barn. What could anyone possibly want with all this? And in a barn??? he wondered aloud.

[p]On one table sat a device that looked like a ray-gun out of Flash Gordon. Michael picked it up, mentally appraising its authenticity. It didn’t look like anything real, but rather a prop from some B movie set. But something about it seemed more real than real. Michael examined the top of the machine, trying to make sense of the digital displays. Above one LCD screen, it read "SRU: Stored Regression Units" and above another it read, "RUI: Regression Unit Influx." What a trip Michael thought.

[p]Not wanting to leave his discovery unprovable, he tucked the gun down into his backpack and zipped the top. How else would his friends or even his brother for that matter believe him without a little tangible evidence?

[p]

[p]Doctor, My Age

[p]----------------------------

[p]Shannon, still reeling from what was already an unbelieveable experience, sat back in her black leather chair. What could one possibly say to such a thing? The boy sitting in her office was growing younger right before her eyes. With each tick of the clock, this boy’s body was racing backward through time itself.

[p]"Do you believe me?" Vincent asked insistently over and over again.

[p]"I don’t know what to believe, Vincent," a puzzled Shannon admitted. "But I know one thing... you don’t look the same as when you came in here. Just look at your clothes. They’re even bigger on you than before!"

[p]"See!" Vincent said, his voice now completely indistinguishable from a little girl’s.

[p]"Maybe we need to have you examined," Shannon suggested, tapping her pencil nervously on the desk. "I think I know who to take you to."

[p]--->

[p]The car ride to Shannon’s doctor, or rather her kids’ doctor, was a tense one. Vincent appeared to be no more than a tiny kindergartener now, with baby fat appearing on his cheeks. His little eyes stared up at her, making her both frustrated and nervous at the same time.

[p]"Can I get you anything?" she asked, trying to break the silence.

[p]But the silence continued, as did Vincent’s regression into early childhood. It seemed to be moving at a much faster rate now than it had earlier... much like when a VCR is rewinding a tape and gets faster towards the end. Though Vincent had only lost 3 years in the time Shannon had met him, he was starting to look like a completely different person, as growth spurts often, or a lack of them, often do to people. Shannon quietly wondered what substance could possibly do this to a human being, and futhermore, what larger implications did this truly have? If growth can be reversed this rapidly, what would that mean for civilization?

[p]But Shannon’s philosophizing soong came to a halt when she reached her kids’ pediatrician. She turned to Vincent, who was submerged in a wad of oversized clothing in the passenger seat, his innocent baby face just barely poking through.

[p]"C’mon, Vincent. We need to get you in there," Shannon said, as she heaved him out of the seat, losing some heaps of clothing in the process. "I’ll try my best to figure out what went wrong with you, ok?" Vincent was silent.

[p]After nearly yelling at the nurse at the front desk, Shannon proceeded to carry Vincent into the doctor’s office, Dr. Palmer’s office to be exact. Dr. Palmer had been a long time friend of the family, and Shannon knew she could rely on him to keep the sacred doctor/patient relationship confidential, which, in this case, might be more important than usual.

[p]Oh hi, Shannon... who’s this little guy you got with you?" Dr. Palmer cheerfully chuckled.

[p]"Well, this is a bit unorthodox, Dr. Palmer, but this happens to be one of my clients."

[p]"A client? He barely looks 4 years old, Shannon. Now, really, who is this?" the doctor smiled.

[p]"OK, he’s a friend... and I need for you to give him a check-up, err...well, can you just tell me if something is wrong with him?" Shannon gasped.

[p]"Well, that’s a little general, Shannon, can you be more specific?"

[p]"OK, can you tell me if his growth is normal... or, well, if he’s a normal growing child or not?" she asked, frantically.

[p]"Sure, sure... just sit the big guy down right over there," Dr. Palmer pointed to a small covered examining table. After gathering some supplies, DR. Palmer turned to the examining table, and right away noticed something. "Hey, is that the same kid you brought in here? I mean, I just turned my back for 30 seconds and he’s..."

[p]"Exactly," Shannon replied.

[p]Dr. Palmer eyed Vincent as he walked over to examine him. Vincent was now around 2 years old, and nothing more than a babbling toddler, hardly capable of even expressing himself.

[p]"Oh, Vincent! Vincent! Can you talk to me?" Shannon whined, seeing that her client was now back in diaper days. Vincent only gurgled and moaned, kicking his tiny wrinkled feet in the air. Dr. Palmer removed what was left of Vincent’s "clothing" and started to feel his pulse. Just then, a small dribble of pee ran down the side of the table.

[p]"Nurse," Dr. Palmer yelled at the door, "Could you get me a diaper in here?"

[p]Within seconds, a nurse promptly came in and began diapering young Vincent. Shannon had now watched the entire procession, and could only hang her head, speechless. The 8 year old kid who had walked in her office not half an hour ago was now lying on his back in Dr. Palmer’s office, being diapered by some nurse who had no clue what was going on. This was the definition of unreal.

[p]

[p]The Open Backpack

[p]-----------------------

[p]Michael heaved a gigantic sigh as he flung his backpack into the closest chair to the front door. Somehow, thoughts of the extravagant laboratory he had witnessed earlier seemed to be forgotten upon entering the house. The warm smell of familiarity rid him of his excitement, and all he could think of was how much homework he had piled up in the recesses of his room. Michael was a master of procrastination, known the world throughout... well, maybe just around school. First and foremost, he was athletic to the bone, your quintessential 15 year old prototype. Sports occupied his mind like Soma, and the only thing that momentarily took his focus off of that was Michelle Anderson.

[p]"Hey bozo, what’s up?" Patrick blurted out as he rounded the corner of the living room.

[p]"Nothing much, asshole," Michael replied, smiling.

[p]"I’m telling-- You said asshole!"

[p]Both of the boys turned to see their little gap-toothed sister, Courtney, standing in the hallway. Courtney had just turned 6, and she was quite accustomed to getting her way. The flipside of that was that she was incredibly smart for her age, putting her two brothers to chame regularly. And for that, the boys could be rather cruel to their little darling sister.

[p]

[p]"No, you’re not!" Michael laughed, chasing Courtney down the dimly lit hallway. Courtney rounded the corner into her room, but Michael’s longer legs caught up to her before she could slam the door. He picked the little whining girl up, as she beat him with her fists.

[p]"That’s not fair! You’re taller than me!" she complained, endlessly. Michael set Courtney down on the couch.

[p]"Don’t you have some little freinds to play around with?" Patrick asked, crossing his arms in a fatherly way.

[p]"Yes, I have lots of friends. But you said--"

[p]"Ah Ah Ah... you know what happens when Mr. Mouth tells Ms. Mom," Michael warned her. She pulled her legs up indian style and made her best pouting face.

[p]"It’s still not--" she started in.

[p]"Scrub Scrub, Courtney!" Michael made a gesture like washing...

[p]All three of them knew what Michael was talking about. It all boiled down to Courtney’s extreme modesty. Whenever she threatened to reveal the boys to their mom, they would strip her down and give her a good old fashioned bath, which Courtney loathed tremendously. Normally kids that young aren’t so picky about their bodies, but suffice it to say, Courtney was ahead of her time. Blame the Britney Spears videos on Disney.

[p]So, while Courtney continued pouting and scrunching up her lip, Michael and Patrick made their way to the backyard for a little one on one.

[p]Courtney could hear them as they left:

[p]"Guess I’ll have to let you win again, huh?"

[p]"In your dreams, dickhead..."

[p]After the tension stopped and Courtney knew they were gone, she calmed down quickly. Glancing around the room, she noticed Michael’s backpack was lying in the chair across the room... not its usual resting place. So, being the intensely jealous little sister that she was, she hobbled over to the blue sack. The zipper was halway open and Courtney could see something shiny sticking out, that looked kinda like a squirt gun. She carefully opened the bag the rest of the way and removed the shiny object. Entranced, she took all of it in. It was, after all, rather beautiful in a Star Wars kind of way.

[p]Hmmm she thought out loud. She ad no clue what the big words on it meant. Regrresso? Ragressa? Courtney had been an early reader, but not early enough to know what that stuff meant. But she knew she liked squirt guns, especially Super-Soakers. With that thought, she carried the gun upstairs and into one of the bathrooms in the house, and figured she’d try to load it. Hmmm. I wonder what this does...

[p]OUTSIDE

[p]Michael and Patrick were fiercely going at it, trying their best to emulate basketball stars on TV. The game had to be postponed a moment though, seeing as that their mother just pulled up in her Ford Explorer. Looking harried, she hastily slammed the door and addressed the boys:

[p]"Boys?" Shannon said. They paid no attention.

[p]"BOYS?!?" she spoke up, and their heads turned.

[p]"Yeah, Mom? Wazzup?"

[p]"Shannon fiddled with her keys saying, "Boys, you know I was planning to out tonight, but it looks like I’m going to have to work late... so I want you to watch out for Courtney, ok?"

[p]They reluctantly agreed.

[p]"All right then... Now I don’t want any fun stuff, ok? You be careful and take care of her!" Shannon ended, getting back in the Explorer. The two boys looks at each other and shrugged, going immediately back to basketball the second Shannon departed.

[p]

[p]The Squirt Gun w/ Extra Features

[p]-------------------------------

[p]"La ti di la ti di," Courtney hummed as she happily started the water running in the tub.

[p]The gun didn’t seem to have a hole for the water, she thought. Where am I sposed to put the water? she questioned herself. The gun wasn’t your normal Super-Soaker, that was for sure. It had little screens on it and junk. She took a stab at it and pressed a random button; the machine lit up. The screen under "Regression Unit Intake" read "10+" and, of course, Courtney had no idea what that meant, but it fascinated her all the same. Under "Regression SET," it read "Influx" and "Outflow" and it seemed to be asking which one she wanted. The gun wouldn’t do anything unless she punched one of the choices on the touch sensitive screen, so she guessed again and pressed "Outflow." Then, the screen appeared: "Units of Outflow?" followed by "10%, 20%..." all the way up to "100%." This is fun Courtney giggled.

[p]Once again randomly picked a setting, she pressed "100%" and watched to see what happened next. Finally, the question popped up: "INTEL - Yes or No." It was all completely and utterly foreign to her, but Courtney pressed "yes," since that seemed to be affirmative.

[p]"Now start up!" she said at the device. The screens began changing colors, and Courtney was elated... it was actually follwing her orders. First red, then blue, then finally green. Something clicked in Courtney’s mind (green=go?) and she figured the machine was now on and maybe she could shoot something. Of course there wasn’t any water in it, so it wasn’t like she was going to get wet or anything. So, in classic childish bravado, she flipped the gun around and aimed it at herself, giggling. Courtney pulled the trigger.

[p]That second, a sharp blue laser light came out of the gun and struck Courtney square in the chest. "Oh!" she squeaked, feeling a electrical current run up and down, through her body. It was pleasurable, but intense at the same time. Courtney instantly began to feel changes, as she dropped the gun on the floor. Her head was swirling, like that time she had fallen off the swingset at day-care. Sickness started to rise up in her stomach, and she started coughing.

[p]Following that, Courtney stood up, trying to get her bearings. The electricity flowed through every inch of her little body... and along with it the feeling of expansion, and pressing. In a complete fog, Courtney grabbed a hold of the nearby sink. The floor seemed to be going away, or not going away rather, but getting farther away. Courtney held her other hand up in front of her face. It was bigger! And her fingers were getting longer! Her pants now streched mercilessly over her legs. Also, her shirt was starting to get uncomfortably tight. She noticed she could now reach higher on the sink as well! What’s happening? she muttered helplessly in her mind. But she continued to grow, escalating in height and maturity. She spun around to the sink and the mirror... I can see myself in the mirror! she cried. And Courtney wasn’t looking like the 6 year old she had been minutes ago. She was older! Like 10! Her hair had grown longer and thicker, like all those shampoo commercials she saw. It wasn’t stopping either... she soon felt two bumps begin to grow on her chest and she knew exactly what they were! Gaining size second by second, Courtney’s breasts were ripening rapidly, jutting her one more step closer to adulthood all the time. She looked down, cupping them in her hands. This is GREAT! she screamed, surprised by her much deeper voice. It all seemed to make sense though... she was no longer barely 6 years old. She was grown up, and best of all, she understood it perfectly! She was now as old as Patrick!

[p]Confrontation and Consequences

[p]------------------------------------

[p]Courtney’s clothes were ripping, and she knew she needed to find something more suitable to don. She remembered Mom saying something about keeping her cheerleading outfits from high school, and hurriedly rushed to her mother’s bedroom across the hall. Courtney’s old clothes were almost about to split completely and fall totally off her, so she sped through the drawers, in search of Mom’s cheerleading garb (hoping it wouldn’t be too tacky).

[p]"There it is!" Courtney exclaimed, happy to find fitting clothes.

[p]She proceeded to tear off her baby clothes, leaving her in the buff. As she reached down to thread her leg into the first pantleg, she caught a glimpse of herself in Shannon’s full-length mirror. Not too bad for a girl who was flat as a board ten minutes ago she thought. And she definitely wasn’t used to anything hanging off her chest when she leaned over. Thrilling to say the least. It appeared the cheerleader uniform was going to fit nicely, but Courtney was going to need a bra, and there didn’t appear to be one in the drawer, so she had to settle for one of her mom’s bright, flowery-covered ones. God only knew why she liked such things.

[p]After she applied her better-fitting attire, she sat down on the bed for a moment to look at the device again. Courtney had always been smart, and now was no different... only she had the added wisdom of 10 years on her side. The gun’s instructions seemed fairly self-explanatory now. I mean, who DOESN’T know what Regression means?

[p]I know two boys who probably don’t she snickered, as vast, endless streams of ideas started flowing through her brain.

[p]OUTSIDE

[p]The heated basketball rivalry was reaching a climax outside, as Michale and Patrick competed for the title in their imaginary play-off game. Both had worked up a raging sweat at this point, which made sense seeing as the game were perfectly tied up. Heaving and panting, Patrick tossed a lay-up into the goal, and Michael shouted: "Damnit!" The two headed for their water-bottles lying in the grass nearby.

[p]Before they reached them however, the back door started to open... and out came a beautiful sandy-blonde girl who looked to be about sweet sixteen. Michael and Patrick stopped in their tracks.

[p]"Surprise, boys!" she shouted, raising her arms in the air. The dynamic duo shot confused glances at each other, wondering why in the world a sexy cheerleader would suddenly walk out of their back door.

[p]"Don’tcha recognize me, guys?" The question met with no replies. Michael looked at Patrick and Patrick at Michael, both tinking she looked quite a bit like someone they knew, but couldn’t place. "OK, let’s try this," she said, "Scrub Scrub?"

[p]Both of the boys’ faces made the same expression of awe, mouths gaping wide. No, it couldn’t be true Patrick thought to himself No one goes from being 6 years old to 16 in a half hour! Michael’s thought-waves were running about the same frequency. It was, of course, scientifically impossible that their little sister could have grown up in a matter of minutes.

[p]Courtney let out a rather evil laugh, as her "big brothers" stared at her new shapely body. The fact that she knew "scrub, scrub" perplexed them, since it was an incredibly exclusive in-joke between the three of them. They both had to admit, though, that this girl DID in fact look like a grown up Courtney. But it was still impossible for the boys to match this pretty, petite 16-year-old to their former bratty baby sister.

[p]"You might be wondering how I got this way, eh?" she said, pulling the Ageflux gun out from behind her back. Michael immediately recognized it, and pointed.

[p]"That’s mine!" Michael yelled.

[p]"Not anymore, it’s not. I found out exactly what this little baby is capable of," she noted, fingering the trigger.

[p]"And what is that?" Patrick asked.

[p]"It’s an age-changing machine," Courtney explained, "that’s why I’m ... well, shall we say bigger, now?" The boys gulped a massive gulp simultaneously. "It can take years away or add them to anything you point it at. Pretty cool, huh?"

[p]The boys were in shock. Niether of them said a word, as they watched their younger sister strut around on the back porch, wearing a skin tight cheerleader uniform that accentuated her, well, new acquisitions.

[p]"Let me see it," Michael lunged toward Courtney, "I found it first!"

[p]"Ah ah ah ah... I think I better hold on to it," Courtney said, laughing to herself at her two brothers’ faces.

[p]"Wh... what are you going to do?" Patrick muttered, afraid of what Courtney might have in store for them.

[p]"You’ll see, Patrick," Courtney giggled.

[p]"This is ridiuculous! Give me the gun right now! I’m the oldest!" Patrick finally shouted at Courtney, as she started punching button on the gun.

[p]"Oldest?" she asked, pointing the gun at Patrick, who immedtiately felt a thin beam of blue light pass through his chest. "Let’s see what this thing does in reverse!"

[p]Michael watched in clear horror as he witnessed his brother start to shrink in size, his sleeves already becoming too long for him.

[p]"Stop it!" Patrick yelled, furiously.

[p]But Courtney kept the ray directly on Patrick and wacthed as he slowly began to de-age. She saw the number on the "Regression Unit Intake" screen go up by 2. It’s working! The ray was sucking years out of Patrick and into the machine! Hey, if there are more years stored in the gun, the older I can make myself! Courtney realized. Patrick conitnued to grow smaller, and less mature. The beginning of a beard he so proudly donned were all gone now, with the exception of a few lone hairs. His muscle tone was also decreasing, going back to his younger years when basketball hadn’t yet toned them up.

[p]"Quit it!" Michael screamed as he ran at Courtney full speed.

[p]"Hold it! You wanna get younger too, Michael?" she said, acting as if she were going to turn the ray at him. Michael capitulated, and held his position. The thought of himself getting any younger was too much to bear. He returned his gaze to Patrick, who now looked about 10 years old at the most. Michael could gauge this well because he and Patrick had been so close their whole lives, and it was frightening to see his own brother pass backward through puberty. His clothes now hung on his childish frame, with the end of his sleeves hanging far past his hands. Courtney watched, as the screen lit up 3 more years, and it thrilled her. A surge of power ran through Courtney as she exacted revenge on her big brother. Watching him slowly reduced to a child was invigorating, and almost sexual in its overtones. Courtney smiled, realizing she still had Michael to deal with.

[p]Meanwhile, Patrick’s body crept gradually back to early childhood, with his face losing quite a bit of its maturity, and falling gracefully back to his formative years. No more than 5 now, Courtney read the indicator at "11" now. That meant Patrick was now younger than she had been! She, of course, had never seen her brother at this age, and she had to admit he was a cutie. His little cheeks were fattening up and his pudgy appendages made him quite adorable.

[p]"Nooo, please!" Patrick whined, now with a pathetically high voice that had not accompanied him since pre-school.

[p]"I wanna see you in diapers, Patrick!" Courtney sqealed with delight.

[p]When the ray finally let up, Patrick was lying on the ground in a heap of former basketball clothes, no more than 1 year old.

[p]"Scrub, Scrub"

[p]-------------------------

[p]Inside, Courtney sat little Patrick on the couch and instructed Michael to sit down next to him, waving the gun.

[p]"OK, you two, now that you’ve seen the power of this machine, I would think you want to get on my good side," Courtney remarked, matter-of-factly. "So, from now on, you will do as I say and if you stray one inch, I’ll use this thing to even greater effect. Now, Michael, take a good look at your brother. You won’t be playing basketball any time soon, and you certainly won’t be making fun of me. In fact, since I don’t want you guys to contact Mom somehow, I’m gonna do things your way."

[p]"Why, Courtney?" Michael nearly started crying.

[p]"Well, I’m rather fond of my new body, as I’m sure you know why," Courtney gestured at her breasts. "I really like this grown up thing. Yes, yes, this is much better suited to my maturity level, I think."

[p]Courtney lifted up her shirt and exposed her lucious breasts. "Yes, this feels pretty good, guys. In some sick way, I’ll bet you want to feel it too, eh?" Courtney laughed. "But you two seem like you’re better suited for a younger age... something closer to your mentality."

[p]"What are you going to do to us?" Michael softly asked.

[p]"Only what you would do to me."

[p]

[p]IN THE BATHROOM

[p]Courtney herded Michael into the upstairs bathroom, and carried baby Patrick, now incapable of rebellion, in her arms. Michael knew what was coming... the dreaded "scrub, scrub" routine where they used to strip little Courtney down to her birthday suit and give her a coerced bath. Courtney began:

[p]"Well, Michael, I guess you know what comes next." She started the water running, and put the stopper in the drain. "But I can’t very well see make YOU strip down too, seeing as you are nearly my age."

[p]Michael breathed a sigh of relief.

[p]"So, I guess we’ll just have to make you a little younger too, so you won’t be so embarassed," Courtney added.

[p]"No, please don’t make me younger! I’ll do whatever you want! I swear! Just don’t make me any younger, ok??" Michael pleaded, almost getting on his hands and knees.

[p]"I’m afraid there’s no other way," she said as she fired the beam at Michael. He instantaneously felt the shock, and the mildly pleasurable electric tingling. He could already feel his clothes getting big on him, and knew he was getting shorter.

[p]"PLEEAASSEEE!!!!"

[p]Michael’s regression took a year off, then another year... leaving him an 8th grader or so. He was now more awkward, having lost some of puberty’s handiwork. His fingers were retracting, and his whisps of facial hair disappeared into his chin. The hair on his arms also changed back into white-blondeish, then completely went away.

[p]"This isn’t fair!" Michael said in the voice he had had in the 6th grade.

[p]"What is fair, Michael, or should I say Mikey?"

[p]The beam was relentless and it shaved another 2 years off him, leaving him the scrawny 4th grader he had been 5 years ago. When Courtney stopped the ray, Michael was now a 7 year old, with his jacket draped on him like a circus tent. Courtney layed Patrick down next to the tub and walked over to Michael. She now stood significantly higher than her big brother, casting a shadow over him. She could see that his tearducts were beginning to well-up with tears, but that didn’t get in her way...

[p]"Now’s the fun part!" she said, as she pulled the now-huged jacket off of Michael. He finally let loose and Courtney could see a single tear run down his innocent looking cheek. "Aw, don’t worry," she said, squatting down to his level, "bathtime can be fun!" She yanked the remaining clothes off Michael’s body. He stared down in disbelief at his much younger self. He had grown so accustomed to seeing it a certain way that it now seemed totally foreign, almost as if it were someone else’s body. And the embarassment -- the EMBARASSMENT -- of having his sister be a hot 16 year old while he was a naked 2nd grader, with not much to show down below... was terrifying like a bad dream.

[p]Courtney ordered Michael into the tub, and he capitulated once again to her demands, stepping nervously into the tub.

[p]"Now, here’s your bro!" she said, handing baby Patrick to Michael. Michael stared down at his reduced, infant brother in tears. The only thought running through his mind was: if only things would be back to normal...

[p]Courtney glanced at the readout on the gun. Hmmm, might need more than 23 years to play around with.

[p]

[p]The Chamber

[p]---------------------

[p]Across town, a desperate Alan Bateman’s fears were growing that the public would soon be on to his little experiments. His Ageflux gun had been missing all day, and something inside him told him it had to do with that Vincent kid. Damnit, why did he have to get away? Bateman thought.

[p]But there were more important matters at hand. The jewel of Bateman’s collection was a new Youth Chamber or RTC (ReTrogression Chamber) that stored up radiation and could emit youthizing waves at long distances. He intended to use it as a kind of service to the population and anyone who wished to pay for it could get a personal treatment and be made whatever age they wished. Tonight was to be Bateman’s first test of the machine.

[p]It was a large cylindrical tube that would fill with a quasi-violet gas. Of course, Bateman had no one to release the energy upon at the moment, so he simply began the process to make sure the gas properly filled the tank.

[p]He entered a series of complex keystrokes and turned on a few of the digital monitors... all appeared to be nominal. But the board was beginning to smoke and Bateman rushed to the panel and tried to stop the machine, but it wasn’t responding to the password. he enetered it again and again.

[p]"Damn, Damn!" he repeatedly yelled, as a large spark jumped off the controls and hit his hand. It knocked him away from the panel, and on to the floor. Bateman could hardly tell where he was the shock was so sudden. The room seemed to be spinning and he couldn’t tell were he had landed... he could, however, tell that an electrical tingle was moving throughout his body.

[p]

[p]END OF KID A - PART 1

[p]

[p]Continuity

[p]---------------------

[p]Michael, now a puny 8-year-old cradled his older brother in his arms, as Courtney proceeded the parade of humiliation, even going as far as throwing some kid’s toys in the tub for effect.

[p]"We should probably take a picture of this!" Courtney sniveled, becoming quite sarcastic in her old age. "You two are so cute, you know it? Make sure you get yourselves clean and soapy."

[p]Michael could barely hold in his frustration, and he could see the anger mixed with fright in his brother’s face, which had been rendered fairly inexpressive. This is wild, so wild Michael tried to grasp the situation but repeatedly failed. He was still waiting to wake up.

[p]"Hmm... you’re probably upset cuz you’re not so close anymore, aren’t you? What do you say Michael? How’s about we get some more years in this thing?" Courtney whistled.

[p]"Courtney, no, don’t make--"

[p]It was once again too little too late as Courtney aimed the AgeFlux gun at Michael and squeezed the trigger. Courtney watch the RUI count go up.

[p]"I’ve decided that I like being older, so I’ll just shave a few more years off ya, Mikey."

[p]"BUT I’M--" Michael tried to say something, but it was utterly futile. He was heading even closer to his brother’s age, looking rather 1st grade-ish now.

[p]"You see, the more years I have in this thing, the more leway I’ll have in changing my age. I’m thinking I might even have a little bit more growing to do with regard to my you-know-whats," Courtney squeezed her left breast. "Who knows? Maybe I’ll get another cup size out of these things. Of course, you won’t be old enough to appreciate them, but trust me, I think it’s well worth the wait... which should be about 3 minutes," Courtney talked through her plan.

[p]When Courtney finished "intaking regression units," Michael was left a 2-year-old, now sitting in a much larger-seeming bathtub. His cheeks were red as tears poured down them in floods.

[p]"Hmmm, you were kinda chubby as a baby, weren’t you?" she remarked, looking at her former antagonizer. "Still very cute though! We’ll have to show you to Mommy when she gets home."

[p]Michael started praying please, please... let Mom straighten this out and make Courtney give me back my years! Courtney then put her hands under Mikey’s little hairless armpits and lifted both of them out of the water and set them on the towel.

[p]"Better dry you two off."

[p]Michael had thought the humiliation couldn’t get any worse, but having his teenage sister wipe off his little pee-pee was about as bad anything he could think of. She seemed so monstrous, like a giant almost. The angles had been reversed and it was now Courtney giving menacing stares down at him. He could only hope that his mother would get home soon.

[p]As Courtney set Mikey down, she started on baby Patrick, "We’ll probably need to get some Pampers for you two. Maybe Mom has some left-overs from when I was..." Courtney realized she no longer wanted to even think about that, "...we’ll find some. Don’t worry. I think you’ll be OK, Mikey, so you just hang tight in your birthday suit, ok?" Courtney laughed.

[p]

[p]"Another 5 years should do it," Courtney noted, reading the RUI screen. "Hmmm, I don’t want to be too terribly old though... we’ll just see."

[p]Patrick, lying on the floor, covered only by a towel, started to cry. His little legs were kicking up in the air frantically, hoping someone other than Courtney would come to his aid.

[p]"Shhh, shhhh... it’s time for me to do a little make-over," Courtney said, entering in the digits she desired, along with a boost in intelligence, of course. She hadn’t used the INTEL option with her brothers; after all, it wouldn’t be as fun if they didn’t know what was happening to them, would it? After setting the INTEL option to "ON", she flipped the gun around just as she had before, only this time with eager anticipation of more than a squirt in the face.

[p]The beam engulfed her and filled the room with a blue light hue. It seemed that aging often took a little while longer than regressing, but no matter. She could tell she was growing... steadily becoming more mature and adult-faced. She giggled with delight as she felt her shirt get tighter and tighter.

[p]"Yes!" She screamed, with the electric pleasure surging through her. She could hardly wait to look at herself in the mirror; there was nothing like the thrill of getting something so much sooner than you thought you would. Michael and Patrick took in the view as their little sister grew even older before their eyes, and, regrettably, more beautiful with every passing second. Her hips widened, features sharpened, bust enlarged, legs lengthened, lips ripened, and everything was coming into place.

[p]When it was over, Courtney quickly turned to the slightly fogged up mirror and her mouth dropped open.

[p]"Oh my God, OH MY GOD! I look like a model!"

[p]She cupped her impressive mounds and massaged them. Every part of her was so grown up now, and she had only added 3 years! Michael sat, in pure shock, gazing at his radiant sister. The worst part was she really did look like a model, maybe even a supermodel. Everyone had always said she was cute as a child, but no one ever anticipated her blossming into such a piece of perfection.

[p]"I’m a wet dream waiting to happen!" she said, giving her best smile for the mirror. "I’m gonna go see if I can find some of Mom’s clothes!" Courtney rushed out the door, leaving Michael and Patrick to sit and wonder how all this could have happened. Michael didn’t know what to be more surprised about: the fact that he was now 2 years old and sitting bare butt on the floor of the upstairs bathroom or that his bratty kid sister was now rivaling Claudia Schiffer in the sex department.

[p]When Courtney reentered the bathroom, she was no longer in the ill-fitting cheerleader uniform but something more comfortable for her size. And the evil feeling hit her again, and she looked down at little Michael and started laughing so hard she nearly cried.

[p]"Look at you! My big nasty brother’s gonna need a pacifier! Bet you wish you had a few years back now, don’t ya? So you could humiliate me again and scrub me down, huh? Well, I happen to very well endowed now and you’re just a toddler. And that’s the way you’re going to stay, Michael. You hear me? I’m never going back to being a kindergartener. No way. But I’m sure you’ll like it... in about 4 years." Courtney was practically diabolical at this point.

[p]

[p]Mother, Do You Think They’ll Drop The Bomb?

[p]----------------------------------------------

[p]A thump could be heard downstairs, and the two boys (or infants rather) felt a welling up of hope, hoping their mother would remedy the situation, forcing Courtney to return them to normal. But the situation was still volatile, and they both knew it. Michael started wishing Court had reduced their intelligence along with their age; at least they wouldn’t have to realize how humiliated they were.

[p]"Oh, looks like Mommy is home," Courtney said, picked little Patrick up on her arm. "C’mon, Mikey," she said, holding her hand down to help him up. Somehow standing up made the blushing factor even higher... now nothing was covered up. He complied, knowing he had no choice, and maybe, just maybe, Mom would straighten this out.

[p]The stairs were a much more daunting task now that Michael was merely a toddler; he had to grab a hold of the railings just to make it down each step. Everyone was wondering how Shannon would take the news; she certainly wouldn’t believe it at first. The trip down the stairs nearly drained Michael of all his energy, but he managed to balance precariously on each step. His soft little feet and hands didn’t afford much traction.

[p]Shannon was in a daze. The entire day had been too much for one nervous system; she had spent the day trying to track down the mysterious laboratory that Vincent spoke of before he became too young to speak. Shannon had carted baby Vincent around all day, doing her investigation, and she was virtually zapped of life. Shannon had indeed found the laboratory, and she had brought with her a sample, some piece of technology that resembles a hard drive, but read "CHRON-DRIVE" on the outside of the casing. She set both it and baby Vincent (whom she felt such sympathy for) down on the living room couch.

[p]"Whew," Shannon sighed, starting to brew some coffee, "this day couldn’t get any weirder."

[p]At that point, her 3 children rounded the corner and Shannon spilled Sanka all over the floor.

[p]"WHO ARE YOU? WHAT ARE DOING IN MY HOUSE?" she backed away from the counter, picking up a nearby knife.

[p]"Mom," Courtney said quite calmly, "don’t you know who I am?"

[p]"Mom? Where do you get off calling me ’Mom’? I’m going to call the police if you don’t explain what this is," Shannon desperately tried to think.

[p]"I’M Courtney! I’m your daughter! Can’t you see it?" Courtney thought it would be more obvious to her poor mother.

[p]"No, you’re not! My daughter is only 6 years old! What have you done with them?"

[p]"Shhhh, Mom, it’s ok," Courtney nonchalantly motioned, "I am your daughter. But I’ve used a device, all right? I’ve used a device to make myself older. Michael brought it home in his backpack... don’t know where from, but the point is... it can change people’s ages, isn’t that great?"

[p]At that moment, little Michael broke free of Courtney’s grip and ran to his mother, who now towered over him. And right then, Shannon ultimately realized what had happened to her children. There were her children! This kid looks exactly like Michael did when he was a baby! she thought it couldn’t be anyone else... I know that face! The revelation was staggering, especially in light of her experience with Vincent, whom was lying on the couch, asleep, a newborn. Thought, feeling, emotions, and everything imaginatble went through Shannon’s already overworked head. But somehow it made sense. Somehow, she was able to believe that this beautiful young lady was in fact telling the truth. This was Courtney! And that meant that she was holding none other than her eldest son Patrick in her arms. And the naked 2-year-old clawing at her pants was her adventurous son, Michael.

[p]

[p]Shannon headed immediately for the medicine cabinet in the kitchen and popped a couple Lortabs in her mouth. Sweat ran down her forehead and she tried to calm her own nerves. The severe shock of having her children switch ages had sent her into a kind of panic. Heart racing, she found the nearest chair and sat down.

[p]Courtney stood in the doorway, gently rocking Patrick up and down. She waited for the right moment and began her speech to Shannon:

[p]"Mom... um... Mom, I know this is all fairly fantastic, but I want you to know that you can deal with this. You’ve just got to look at it in the right way. I mean, you’ve always told me I was intelligent and to use that. I even heard you say several time how you thought I was more mature than my brothers, even at 6. This could really be a blessing. You know how you said you always wanted to have another child, but you didn’t think the boys could handle it? Well, they can be the ones! You know you can trust me... I’ll help around the house more, and help you take care of Michael and Patrick. See, it’ll work better this way..."

[p]Shannon listened to the argument coming from her much-more-grown-up daughter. She marveled at how pretty her daughter had become, and it made her proud in a way. The truth was she always had trusted Courtney even more than Michael or Patrick. And somehow, the mother/daughter bond was simply stronger than the ones she had with the boys. She had always felt that they never really connected, something hadn’t sparked between them. But Courtney. Courtney had been her pride and joy, being the smart, funny little daughter she had always wanted. And well, look at her now, all grown up, and Shannon was forced to admit, stunning. Certainly more stunning than she’d ever been at any age. In fact, she wondered how the her loins could have ever produced such an Aphrodite. And in a strange, otherworldy way, her argument seemd to make sense. The cherubic toddler still clinging to her pants may not have been the "right" age, but he was definitely more controllable... and adorable. Shannon mused on how much fun it might be for her and her daughter to help re-raise Michael and Patrick together. Lacking a husband, maybe Courtney really could be her saving grace.

[p]Michael’s eyes started to well up, as he noticed his mom was actually considering Courtney’s argument! Oh my God, what if I end up like this permanently? I can’t be stuck like this! I’m 15, not 2! Michael frantically tried to muster a way to distract his mother before Courtney had truly convinced her.

[p]"... So, Mom, you see? It would be better this way," Courtney finally concluded her statement.

[p]Michael could see in his mother’s eyes that it was too late. She glanced down at him with a motherly expression, and he knew she wasn’t going to force Courtney to give him his years back. She liked him this way! This was cemented by the next words out of Shannon’s mouth...

[p]"Courtney?" Shannon asked.

[p]"Yes, Mom?"

[p]"Today has been too much. I really can’t think straight right now, and the fact that you’re 19 years old isn’t helping. But your point is well taken... and... and... I still don’t know what to do. But I’m going to ask you to help me. There is a laboratory a few miles away. I need to go back there to try to find a Dr. Bateman. I had a client today... who was turned into a baby just like Michael and Patrick have been. So, I can believe you about this... and as strange as it may seem, something about seeing the boys this way... it just makes me want to have them be that way again," Shannon gave a motherly smile.

[p]I can’t believe it! Michael thought She’s siding with COURTNEY! She’s going to keep me like this! Or even younger! No, no, no, no... Michael’s brain overloaded, as he fell to his butt, crying.

[p]Shannon looked down at her little sweetness, with a look of pure motherly compassion.

[p]"Awwww, C’mere..." she lifted Michael up to her lap. Almost that instant, she felt the overwhelming desire to have Michael be even younger. She looked at Courtney:

[p]"Courtney?"

[p]"Yes, Mom?"

[p]"This may sound weird, but could you make Michael a little younger? Something makes me want to--"

[p]"Yes."

[p]Courtney entered into the gun a few digits, and set the gun for INTEL-ON and fired the ray at Michael. Unafraid of the strangeness anymore, Shannon’s eyes lit up as she watched her son go from 2 years old to a babe of only 6 months. His transformation excited her, in some odd way, and she felt the sudden urge to breastfeed baby Michael, just the way things used to be. She lifted her shirt off, and removed her bra. Michael was now completely an infant, in mind and body. He happily sucked away, as Shannon somehow produced milk from her rush of motherly love.

[p]Courtney smiled a brilliant smile.

[p]

[p]Dr. Strangeage

[p]----------------------------

[p]It had been the fear Bateman had most tried to avoid, the malfunction of his own creation... on himself no less. The shock sent through him from the board had affected him, whether he wanted to admit it or not. At the first sign of de-aging, he tried every possible combination of keystrokes to somehow reverse the effects of the electrical current that sparked from the board. His gray hairs had long since disappeared and he dreaded looking in the mirror, for he knew how the regression process would most likely speed up over time.

[p]At one point, he had planned to use the device for such an end, to extend his own lifetime and see his creations to fruition...but not this early. And to add to the panic, not only had his AgeFlux Gun disappeared, but also a CHRON-DRIVE, which also controlled age but was not yet fully operational. He couldn’t decide why someone would take such a thing from his lab... but the fact remained that he was getting younger... and younger... and people would soon be on to him.

[p]The actual Regression Chamber was still unfixable. The purple gas was quickly filling the tube, reaching dangerous levels. God only knew what would happen if the tank were to explode...

[p]Bateman himself was no more than a teenager, and he could feel his mind slipping closer to its origins but by bit, he was forgetting the codes, the passwords...

[p]

[p]Michelle, Ma Belle

[p]--------------------------

[p]"OK," said Shannon, speaking to Courtney, "I know what the source of all this is. There is a man named Dr. Bateman who operates a secret laboratory in town. He’s apparently obsessed with aging, and has created a series of machines... one of which I guess Michael found and brought home. Anyway, I’ve found where Bateman hides out, but when I got there, no one was in the lab. He may already know that someone is on to him. Whatever the case, I don’t know what tricks he might have up his sleeve and I don’t want to go back alone, but I need to find out what’s going on here. I want you to come with me, Courtney. I’m going to get someone to babysitt Michael and Patrick, and, well, you know that client I talked about before?"

[p]"Yes."

[p]"He’s asleep on the couch right now... only a newborn. So, will you go with me?"

[p]"Whatever you want me to do," Courtney feigned allegence.

[p]"Good. Now do you know of anyone aho might be available to babysitt? Wait-- what am I talking about? I was having you babysat earlier today!"

[p]Courtney didn’t mind rubbing the salt even fruther in the wound. "I know who would be good," she announced.

[p]"You do? Who?" Shannon asked.

[p]"Michelle Anderson. She just lives right up the block," Courtney winked. She knew it would be the ultimate turn-around to have Michelle Anderson, Michael’s sweetheart, babysit him. The girl who once gave Michael 20 minute stiffies was now going to diaper him! How great was that?

[p]"Well, we have to get anyone who can," Shannon added, setting Michael down on the couch next to Vincent. "I’ll find her in the phone book... Anderson you said, right?"

[p]"Right."

[p]As luck (or Michael’s bad luck) might have it, Michelle was free that night, although she wondered why Michael and Patrick couldn’t just babysit their own little sister.

[p]"Michelle is on her way," Shannon said, rummaging through a closet full of the kids’ old baby clothes. She found a particularly nice little sleeper for Michael, but she figured she’d better diaper Patrick first. He was beginning to look rather strained, and uncomfortable.

[p]"Courtney, honey, here’s a few diapers that must have been left over. Could you please diaper Patrick?" Shannon suggested.

[p]"Sure, Mom, no problem." It was going to be such a nice change having her mature daughter around.

[p]Patrick offered little resistance, but still retained his mental faculties. A massive Courtney loomed over him. She still have that devious smile drawn on her face, and Patrick was still in horror.

[p]"OK, here we go, Patrick," she said, sliding the fresh diaper under his miniature tush. His tiny manhood stuck straight up, not impressive in the least. He tried to detach himself from the circumstances but Courtney’s devil-grin kept him concentrating on how humiliated he was. She was an angel to look at, too good to be true... but this was not the way it should be. She didn’t deserve to be so much older than him.

[p]While Shannon was out of the room, Courtney got an idea and pressed the INTEL-OFF button on the AgeFlux Gun and shot it at Michael. He didn’t change size, of course, but Courtney knew full well what she was doing. She wanted Michael to be fully aware that his dream girl was going to see him as a baby.

[p]

[p]When Michelle walked in the door, you could see the infant Michael’s petrified reaction, even on his underdeveloped face. He began to squirm and writh, like something was hurting him repeatedly. The expression on his face was not unlike a man (or shall we say baby) hanging from the edge of a thousand foot drop. No, it can’t be her... Michael regained his 15 year old faculties and stared in horror at his high school crush, the glorious Michelle Anderson. She was wearing a tight top, displaying her ample busom for all to see.

[p]

[p]"Hello? Ms. Mosley?" she called, from the front door, wiping her feet at the welcome mat.

[p]"Yes, yes..." Shannon said from the next room. "Be right with you..."

[p]Michael had a good view of Michelle, the buxom biracial beauty that she was. Too bad she was even more impressive from a low angle, or in Michael’s case, a very low angle. He felt his stomach tie itself in knots and Michelle turned her attention to the couch. She hadn’t thought Ms. Mosley had so many kids...

[p]Shannon emerged from the kitchen and greeted Michelle, thanking her for coming on such short notice.

[p]"Are these all yours?" Michelle asked pointing to Vincent, Michael, and Patrick.

[p]"Oh, no, the two on the couch are my sister’s... and the one on the floor is... um... well, he’s my sister’s too," Shannon tried to make up an explanation off the cuff.

[p]Just then, Courtney entered the room, and made eye contact with Michelle.

[p]"Oh, hi Michelle... you probably don’t know me... I’m Michael and Patrick’s cousin... from Boston," Courtney ad-libbed.

[p]"Nice to meet you... I’m afraid Michael and Patrick never mentioned anything about a cousin," Michelle remarked, running her hands through her flowing black hair.

[p]"Oh well, that’s like them. They can be so immature sometimes," Courtney laughed, looking directly at baby Michael, now clad in a nice baby sleeper and looking extremely frustrated.

[p]"Let me tell you where things will be, OK?" Shannon led Michelle to the closet in the hallway off the living room. "There are several clean diapers in here, and also some other outfits in case any of them need changing. Also some wet wipes, I believe. There is some milk prepared in bottles in the kitchen; you’ll find them easily..."

[p]"What’s that?" Michelle asked, pointing to what looked like a space-age computer tower nestled down in the closet. "I’m majoring in computer science at the university, but I’ve never heard of CHRON-DRIVE. Is it new?"

[p]"Well, yes, it is. But you don’t need to worry about--"

[p]"Because it doesn’t look anything like--"

[p]"Nevermind, Michelle. Just take care of the babies, ok?" Shannon nervously tried to divert attention away from her stolen age device.

[p]"All right... well, you guys have agood time doing whatever you’re going to do," Michelle chuckled.

[p]"We will," Shannon replied, putting her coat on, "we should back by 2 or so."

[p]"OK."

[p]Shannon and Courtney closed the door behind them, leaving Michelle with 3 babies to handle. One of them appeared to be asleep. She sat Patrick up on the couch as well, and sat down, picking up Michael.

[p]"Hmm, she didn’t tell me any of your names," Michelle said, bouncing Michael up and down softly. "You know, you look just like your cousin Michael. Same little nose. And you’re little friend looks just like Patrick."

[p]Michael was in the 7th Circle of Hell, as the object of all his lustful desires held him up by the armpits.

[p]"I guess I’ll just call you Michael and Patrick, since that’s who ya look like," Michelle wondered why Ms. Mosley had left in such a hurry. She seemed awfully rushed for just a night out at the movies or something. It must have been some kind of emergency.

[p]Michelle gingerly placed Michael back on the couch and she visited the kitchen, in search of the bottles. They were there, just as Ms. Mosley had said they would be, obviously placed on the counter. She stuck one of them in the microwave and pressed START. Returning to the living room, Michelle picked Michael back up and cradled him in her arms. She held the nipple of the bottle up to Michael’s mouth.

[p]"Here you go, Mikey... din din."

[p]Michael took the bottle, only to not arouse any suspicions in Michelle that he was not really who she thought he was. Though physically incapable of much reaction, Michael couldn’t help btu stare into Michelle’s lucious boobs that were situated right in front of his little face. The agony, the torture... He was so close to them, he could touch them. He reached up with his tiny hand and felt of Michelle’s now incredibly huge-looking breasts, fantasizing in his pubescent 15-year-old mind about what it would be like to be old again and in the same position. The world had become so much larger, so much more intimidating. He was so grateful that Michelle at least did not know who she was rocking and feeding. He wanted so desperately to be back to his real age, and caressing those gorgeous C-Cups with his 15-year-old hands, knowing every inch of Michelle Anderson.

[p]But he was merely a baby now, and a very small one at that, not even as old as his brother patrick anymore. And Michelle was still the picturesque college sophomore she had always been.

[p]"Guess you’re not too hungry," she said, noticing Michael wasn’t particularly enthralled with the bottle.

[p]

[p]Doubts

[p]----------------------------

[p]The SUV swerved, making quick lane changes. Shannon was driving ruthlessly to make it to Bateman’s hide-out. She was occasionally distracted though, by the familiar, yet alien 19-year-old in the seat next to her.

[p]"You know, Courtney, I haven’t gotten the chance yet to tell you how... well... I probably don’t have to tell you, but you’ve gotten quite attractive," Shannon uncomfortably brought up the subject of her daughter’s immenent hot-ness.

[p]"Thanks, Mom."

[p]"I just mean that, if it’s going to stay this way... you know, me and you, and the boys staying younger... you’re going to start getting lots of attention. And I’m going to have to figure out a way of chaging our family records, and if your father ever found out..."

[p]"What are you trying to say, Mom?" Courtney thought she knew where this was leading.

[p]"It’s just that this transition is going to cause some problems for us that’s all... we might have to relocate... and that would mean losing my job," Shannon explained, "I just don’t know how we can make this work."

[p]"Look," Courtney cut in, "I’m not going back to being a kindergartener, ok?"

[p]Shannon was silent.

[p]"Just so we’re clear on that," Courtney said, clutching the Ageflux Gun in her hand.

[p]"Oh, yes, we’re clear," Shannon said, fearing her daughter’s reaction.

[p]Courtney put the device back down at her side, fiddling with trigger. She better not try to stab me in the back Courtney fumed silently in the passenger seat.

[p]CHRON-DRIVE

[p]----------------------------

[p]No matter she tried, Michelle couldn’t stop wondering what the computer tower-ish thing in the closet truly was, and why Ms. Mosley had been so quick to get her attention away from it. TV was boring tonight, and the babies certainly weren’t providing much entertainment. She serached Ms. Mosley’s CD collection but couldn’t find anything worth the trouble of taking out of a jewel case and actually playing. So, she dug through closet and found a small sticker on the side that had some kind of list of instructions.

[p]"Oh well, what could it hurt?" Michelle said under her breath.

[p]She dragged the device out of the closet, and sat in the center of the living room, trying to decifer the instructions. It was clear within second that this was not a normal CD-ROM drive or computer tower. In fact, there was no tray for a disc or anything even resembling one. It did, however, have a large circlular lens embedded in one side, that looked as if it would project something, like a film onto a screen.

[p]"Weird," muttered Michelle, examining the machine. Michael and Patrick, and a waking Vincent watched, speechless of course, from the off-white couch.

[p]She put the unit on its side, and examined the directions more closely: "1. Power On Unit, 2. Access digital display, 3. Enter desired age coordinates (Regression/Progression), 4. Press EXE to execute command, 5. Point device with opticals outward." All the directions seemed fairly foreign, except "Power On" and Michelle was perplexed.

[p]When pressing power, the CHRON-DRIVE digital display lit up as it said it would. Immediately, the first question that appeared was "DESIRED AGE?"

[p]"Desired age??" Michelle questioned aloud. She knew what "desires age" sounded like it meant, but figured that couldn’t be what it really was. Just for kicks, she entered the number "26".

[p]Michelle laughed, "OK, make me 26! Haha." She pressed EXE, and sat back.

[p]A blue glowing started in the eye of the lens, a kind of swirling like a lava lamp might look through a fisheye lens. Michelle didn’t know what to make of it, so she was about to stand up and puch the unit back into the closet. But before she did, a blue beam came out of the machine and hit her in the chest, making her entire body glow with an light blue hue. She quickly moved out of the way of the beam, but she could tell something felt wrong inside her. There was a churning and a burning in her stomach, and her body got a massive case of pins and needles.

[p]"Whoa, what was that?"

[p]The boys looked on, knowing Michelle had tampered with some device like the one that had regressed them, but they had no idea what it would do to her.

[p]Michelle leaned over the machine to look at the display again. And with a sudden scare, she realized she hadn’t entered "26" but rather "2.6". The machine would not allow her to re-enter the number though, saying "ERROR: COMAND ALREADY COMPLETE."

[p]Michelle sat back on the carpet and looked at herself. Was her sleeve getting a little long? Something was in the air; she just didn’t know what. Michael observed Michelle trying to decide what she had done to herself. She looked closely at her hands, and didn’t notice anything yet. Why am I worrying myself? Like "desired age" actually meant it could change my age Michelle rationalized. But the world was getting different, and she was being affected somehow. She checked the sleeve again and it was even farther past where it had been. She wiggled her toes around and felt more room in her shoes.

[p]"What the HELL?" Michelle said.

[p]Michael and Patrick struggled to see what was happening to Michelle and whether her age was changing at all. And Michelle did appear different, younger. The two badboys under he shirt didn’t seem to be bulging quite as much as they had been when he was being fed. Her face was starting to look a little younger as well, maybe more like she had looked 2 years ago when the Mosleys had moved into Michelle’s neighborhood. Michelle was periodically growing aware of the changes too. She stood up and her clothes were noticeably large on her body, he bra strap hanging slightly loose on her right shoulder. She looked down at her now baggy pants, and started to panic. She ran to the closest mirror and started appraising herself.

[p]"My God," she said, "it is changing me. But I’m not getting older!"

[p]Michelle screamed, gazing at her younger self in the mirror. Her breasts had now dwindled to half of their original wholesome goodness. She grabbed them, her eyes opening wide, realizing how small they had become. Michael watched the whole transformation, powerless to warn Michelle of what these machines could do. He could only lie on the edge of the couch, a 6-month-old child, witnessing his dream girl gradually lose her maturity. She was now younger and passed the point he had ever been priveleged to know her. She was fast approaching middle school age, and her face reflected the changes rapidly, going from very adult to much more childish in seconds. As the years melted away, Michelle continued screaming, her voice gradually becoming more like that of a little girl’s. At 4 minutes, she was about a 5th grader in appearance, her proud breasts having completely receded into her chest, leaving the sexless frontside of a child.

[p]It was at this point that Michelle rushed over to the CHRON-DRIVE on the floor and started removing the paneling off the side. She could feel her memory slipping, but hoped she might be able to switch some kind of line and reverse the process. Fastly becoming a 3rd grader, little Michelle was working fiendishly to rewire the system. Michael saw his beloved Michelle going back in time, returning to her childhood just as he had, and he cried at the thought of it.

[p]On the floor, a 7-year-old Michelle was close to tears as well...

[p]

[p]Enter Bateman

[p]-------------------------

[p]Shannon and Courtney pulled up at Bateman’s barn/laboratory, and hurried inside. They were bathed in the blue light of Bateman’s mad-scientist-like lab, and craned their heads to look up at all the gadgets that inhabited this world in itself. The low hum of computer hardware made the room only more ominous. Screen, blips, tubes, wires, transistors, lights, computers, pipes surrounded them. To the far end of the lab was the Regression Chamber, still glowing bright with an intense purple gaseous substance. The readouts below it were increasing rapidly, but Bateman was nowhere to be found.

[p]"This place is freaky," Courtney noted, staring into the swirling violet gas. It had an almost hypnotic effect.

[p]"C’mon, we need to find Bateman," Shannon said, peeking in and under all the work desks and computer stands.

[p]Courtney followed a trail of what appeared to be clothes back past the Regression Chamber. Behind it was cowering a little boy, no more than 4 years old. The shivering child tried to hide from Courtney, but she grabbed a hold of the only piece of clothing on the boy.

[p]"Hey, who are you?" she asked. "It’s ok, I’m not going to hurt you. Can you tell me where to find Dr. Bateman? Do you know a man named Dr. Bateman?"

[p]Shannon followed close behind and found Courtney talking to a shivering little boy.

[p]"I’M ALAN BATEMAN," the child finally said, yanking his coat away from Courtney’s grip. Shannon and Courtney exchanged glances.

[p]"Please, come back... we won’t hurt you. Just tell us... if you’re Alan Bateman, we just need to talk to you."

[p]The boy spoke, saying: "Just get away. You don’t know what I’ve done."

[p]"What are you talking about? What have you done? Tell us," Shannon said, staring the child down.

[p]"Run. Run away now. It’s Kid A. The gas is volatile," the child said, clutching his coat.

[p]"We don’t know what you’re talking about! What is Kid A??"

[p]"You’ll see," the boy said as he ripped away from Courtney and ran behind the machinery.

[p]"Maybe we can use the AgeFlux Gun to age you again," Courtney suggested, raising the gun and aiming at him.

[p]"It’s no use," the boy said plainly, "I’ve tried that... I’ve been infected with a level of Kid A too high for that simple device. And to stop the machine, you’d have to know the self-destruct code..."

[p]"Well, what is the self-destruct code?!?!?"

[p]"I’m afraid," Bateman said, "I’ve forgotten."

[p]Bateman was fast approaching babyhood, as his little face turned even more innocent. In a matter of minutes, Bateman had passed the point of no return.

[p]

[p]No More Babysitter

[p]--------------------

[p]Back at the Mosley house, Michelle’s COMMAND had successfully been completed, leaving the former busty pin-up a 2 and half year old girl. She had managed to wander to the bathroom on the first floor and run a little bath.

[p]"Want bubbles!" Michelle had said triumphantly, running water in the tub. She had searched the bathroom closet and found a nice pink bow for her hair and lots of great toys. Michael, Patrick, and Vincent had long given up and fallen asleep on the couch, not even old enough to get down by themselves.

[p]Michelle’s regression had been full, however, and she was now a happy toddler in the bathtub without a care in the world, which wasn’t as bad as it might seem...

[p]

[p]Exit Music (for a film)

[p]--------------------------------

[p]To complete this story, it should be noted that it was Alan Bateman who first realized how much trouble his inventions had caused, even in the hands of one average 15-year-old for one day. It had become obvious somewhere along the line that his ideas were doomed to overwhelm him and take over the world. Oh well, we all know the "best laid plans."

[p]In June of 2001, the Regression Chamber exploded, letting the purple gas diffuse into the surrounding air, and eventually all around the world. The gas had indeed been so potent that it literally grew into epic proportions, engulfing the entire atmosphere of earth. It returned everything, including animals, to some sort of younger state. Of course, mass death occurred due to the lack of regulation of man-made machines, but as evolution often does, it made a way for the new era, and the world eventually grew back to maturity...

[p]But Bateman’s laboratory still exists, and it’s only a matter of time until Kid A returns... someone only need know the initial code...

[p]everything in its right place...

[p]END OF KID A - PART 2

[p]

AR Central Stories

Chapter 3
Kid A

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AR Central Stories

Chapter 3Kid A

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Chapter 3
Kid A