Phade to Dark

 

Walking along the edges of the steps, doing her best to avoid any groaning floorboards, Phade slowly ascended the staircase.  She knew that her target was not far away, but she did not want to rouse any suspicion.  Even if Agent Wynessa Phade was almost as heavily armed as the newly founded Fourth Empire, she had to still be mindful.  Her training within the Agency taught that complex machines like plasma rifles were prone to breakage, which would leave one vulnerable to even the lowly kitchen knife.  So, she kept her weapon actions running clean, and she kept her movements quiet.

            An old, treacherous floorboard creaked beneath her weight, in spite of her efforts, but hopefully her target would take it for a rat or something – if he even heard it at all.  Another landing, and another flight to go.  Although she had observed an elevator on the ground floor, Phade wasn't stupid enough to risk taking a ride in it.  The apartment complex looked as though it hadn't been maintained since the turn of the millennium.  This was not an exaggeration in her mind; the weight of sixty years was bearing down on the structure.  To hell with just worrying about the elevator, I'm lucky I don't crash through the floor.  And that was the other reason for sticking to the edges of each step.

            Upon reaching the top landing, Phade rejoiced in a long, quiet sigh.  She was almost convinced that she was going to accomplish her mission after all.  Her prey was wise to pick such a rickety structure, and being in the old penthouse of the building gave him an excellent view.  She was certain that she had made it undetected, but the part that worried her was that he expected her to show up.  Maybe he'll be sleeping right now.

            Not likely.

            She pulled out her Field Sensor and began to rotate its view around.  After turning roughly 48 degrees, she paused.  The instrument was picking up a form, man-shaped and slumped over, behind the wall in front of its sensor array.  Whoever it was, he was either dead or sleeping in an uncomfortable spot.  That didn't startle her, what did was the fact that the body was the only one in the building – aside from herself.

Phade knelt down and turned up the force-resonance of her boots and raised her plasma rifle.  Seeing that it was at ninety-eight percent charge, she moved to the door nearest the body and turned opposite to its frame.  She lifted her leg up in the air while simultaneously spinning around – connecting with the door.  With or without the artificial weight of her boot, it would have burst open, but their energy field could seriously cause a person harm, especially if he were standing directly on the other side.  The door broke from its lock and swung back, hitting the wall – its knob punching through the plaster.

She rushed in with her rifle at the ready, sweeping the area for movement . . . not so much as a cockroach.  She brought out her Field Sensor and swept it across the room also, when her eyes revealed no trace of her target.  On her sensory device, nothing but the body-shape was detected.  Her breath froze up inside her when she realized that there was no such shape in the room with her.  She tapped a small button under her rifle's barrel and a light came on, illuminating the area.  She could see just fine without the light, but she needed to be damn sure.

            Nothing . . . just a small dome-shaped object, smaller than a dinner plate, but about as thick as a third of a soccer ball.  She rapidly pressed a button combination on her Field Sensor to see what it "thought" of the mystery object.  It was not an explosive, nor was it comprised of any known chemicals or moving parts.  And impressively, it gave off a false electromagnetic signature that made it look like a human to sensor arrays.  What surprised her most was that it consisted of no moving parts!  Something so complex was working so simplistically. 

She carefully knelt down and picked the object up in her hand, being surprisingly light.  Its outer casing was translucent, revealing a strange gelatinous movement of colors from within it; quite bizarre if you believed that it was composed of no moving parts or chemicals.  Then again, it also led machines to believe that it was really a man.  She was contemplating over whether or not to abort the mission and get the object back to HQ when she felt a strange pulse through her body from the device.  She looked at her Field Sensor first, and saw that the screen was full of static.  She looked back at the object just in enough time to see the colors from within it dancing about.

Then the blast hit her.  At first she thought it had been a bomb, and that she had paid for her curiousity, but that wasn't right.  I'm still here!  My mind wouldn't be here contemplating any of this, it would be smeared across the ceiling!  The sound of the peculiar object striking and clattering on the floor cemented Phade's hope that she was still among the living, not to mention in one piece; but she didn't feel right . . . far from it.  She wasn't precisely dizzy, nor did she feel tingly, yet at the same time -- the feeling wasn't unlike any of those, either.  She felt acutely aware of her surroundings, that was about the best way to describe it . . . aware.  Like her senses had been turned up a notch.  Her clothes felt sensitive on her body, almost uncomfortable.  Amidst her strange bodily feelings, she did the one thing that soothed her a little – she hiccupped.

Again.

And Again.

She raised a hand up to her mouth to conceal the noise she was making when her eye caught something – her hand looked strange.  At first, she thought it was glowing, but it was not casting any light . . . it just looked brighter; sort of refreshed looking.  She examined her palm and saw that her calluses were gone!  She looked at her other hand that was still holding the heavy rifle and saw the same strange force at work.  My skin tissue's revivifying . . . how in the world?!   She brought her hand up to her face and touched it; which also felt smoother.  Her nerves were screaming out with pleasure from her own touch.  She felt so soft and silken.  Her ministrations caused her nipples to harden and her hidden flower to moisten.  She wanted to touch every part of her new self; then she hesitated.

The thing was, Phade had been touching a lot of herself, and that's when she noticed something strange about her breasts.  They weren't pushing out the fabric of her blouse as much as they had been.  She pulled her free hand away from them in shock, when another thing happened – her wristband slid down to her elbow.  She looked down at her gun, which had become way too fucking heavy, then back to her breasts – even smaller than a moment ago, then to her shoulder, which was protruding more and more from the neck hole of her blouse.  She looked up and around the room, which had mysteriously enlarged about her.  I'm shrinking . . . it's a shrinking device!  Her thoughts raced as she glanced back down at herself.  She brought both of her hands up to her breasts, well, where they had once been.  Put two and two together, Phade!!  OH SHIT!  I'm getting younger!!!  By the time she realized that, her little feet had shrunken out of her boots and were now receding deeper within her loosening pants, which had fallen around her knees.  She was going to get up and run, when out of the shadows stepped the one man, the only one who could do such a thing.

Leonard.

            Phade attempted to stand, but she still tangled in her now humongous clothes! "Thinking of running somewhere?"  A wry chuckle rumbled forth from him as he knelt down in front of little Phade.  "I suppose you won't be needing this anymore."  He knelt down and picked up the little discus and pulled from his belt a remote of some sort.  He turned it to where its little screen read in green letters 1.O YRS.  She could only gawp at the gravity of the situation.  She had been changed into an infant.

            And she only had herself to blame for being foolish enough to pick up the damned thing!  It could have been any number of lethal things, and there were enough reasons not to fuck with it.  She should have aborted the mission the moment she saw it, she should have . . .

            . . . not wet herself.

            "I would reprimand you for making such a stupid choice, but the effect of the device speaks for itself.  And you've gone and wet yourself already!  Bad girl!"  Leonard was scolding her all right, for leaving a puddle – which also soaked her clothes; not that she needed them anymore.  They were meant for grownup spies who didn't screw up a mission.  If her mission had been a real one, and that had been an explosive, well, she wouldn't have had enough time to pee herself. 

However.

Leonard pulled out a napkin with some sort of cleaning solution on it – a baby wipe, more than likely – and wiped the little girl's privates and then scooped her up into his arms.  He was huge, and the effect of being hoisted several feet into the air was dizzying.  She was utterly helpless now, and he was going to relish in this.  "I can't wait to show you to your classmates . . . I'm sure they would just love to see you now."  Phade for a moment wished it had been a real mission with a real bomb.  At least she wouldn't be around to see her classmates with their condescending tones; oh and they would love her!  How many humiliating diaper changes would she endure by Leonard and them before she could be restored.  I can be restored . . . right?  Yeah, a bomb would have been much less cruel.

"Well, let's get you diapered and reunited with your comrades for debriefing . . . Sylvia?"  He called for his assistant's name, and soon she appeared from the shadows.  How in the hell did they cloak themselves from my sensors?  Leonard handed the baby to the grinning young blonde.  Sylvia tickled the chubby little Wynessa Phade, causing her to giggle a little.  Being betrayed by her own reflexes, she turned her head away from the nurse and began pouting.

"Awe!  She's such de wittle pumkin baby . . . yes she is!"  God, kill me now. Wynessa silently pled.

***

            Wynessa was taken into another room, and was shocked to see that it resembled nothing of the one she had entered to find the strange device.  It was not dark, dusty, molded, or run-down.  Hell, it was a nursery!  It had cute little designs all over the walls of happy monkeys pelting the crap out of clowns with pies.  In the center of the room was a playpen, and within it were several other babies.  Phade should have been relieved to see this, but she wasn't.  The babies were the other trainees.

            Phade was taken over to a changing table, where the trappings of infant hygene awaited.  She was laid on her back, rubbed with petroleum jelly between her tushie cheeks, and then fluffed with baby powder.  After that came the diaper.  Wynessa found herself sucking her thumb through the entire process.  In very short order, she was then dressed in a small pink outfit.  During all of this, she could not help but feel astounded at how quick Sylvia was it this.  She handled babies like a pro; either she had a long background of childcare, or she had acquired the skills from within the Agency.

            Being all taken care of, Sylvia placed a pacifier in Phade's mouth and took her to the playpen with the other babies.  Once that was done, Leonard stepped forward and began the most bizarre briefing of Phade's career.

            "Boys and girls, in some way or another, all of you failed the test with the Biochron device.  You can see for yourselves what we do to those who have failed, but there is an up side.  The regression effect is temporary, but during this time, you are going to learn that there are certain advantages to being a pint-sized spy."

            And so, Wynessa's training continued, interrupted only by bottles, changes, and naptime . . .

 

Máire Flynn

October 2nd, 2001

maireflynn@cs.com