'True heroes are those who die for causes they cannot quite take seriously'
- Murry Kempton

'This is going to cost you. Our fees are ridiculously high.'
- Doctor Peter Venkman

Morning - or evening in this case, came on schedule. I rolled over and stretched, yawning. Cassie's belly had provided a firm, warm surface perfect for my nap. I was the best rested I've been in months. I put my head right against her skin - quite clearly I could hear the low steady thrum of her heartbeat, only a few hundred feet away. So that was what I had to get used to during my sleep. Strangely, peculiarly comforting - perhaps it was the phenomena that young dogs experience when they are removed from their mothers. Place a ticking clock in the bed with them and they quite right down.

I reached out and patted my friend. "Thanks, Cassie."

I climbed out of her navel and started the long, long walk to her ear. . .

Exiting her belly button was easy, considering that Cassie was sleeping on her back. A brief climb and a large cream-colored horizon was spread before me. A look around the room indicated that she had fallen asleep with her reading light on - so for a while I had illumination to work with. I gazed at the field of flesh before me. I had never noticed before, but Cassandra kept herself in great shape - even for a Ghostbuster. The vast acreage of skin beneath my feet was taught and firm, with slight ripples appearing where her abdominal muscles were more defined. I jumped up and down lightly on my toes, with not even an ounce of give beneath me.

Hmmm, I wonder if she's ticklish.

As I casually strolled towards Cassie's head, I could feel the slow rise and fall of her chest as her lungs filled with air, I could feel the regular undulation of her mammoth heart beneath my feet, pumping thousands of times my current volume with each mighty pulsation. It was like walking on a giant living waterbed.

I approached her neck carefully. Standing on her shoulder, just as the slope of the breast tapered off, I looked for my avenue of approach. I could either brave crossing her face and sliding down to the ear, or I could slide down her shoulder, and approach from the bottom. Either way presented all kinds of hazards - crossing her face, I might get noticed as an wayward itch and brushed off, or I could fall if she moved, or any number of things. Climbing off her, however - well if she moved and rolled away, I could get left behind - putting me back to square one. Even worse - if she rolled over onto me - crunch. Bye-bye Ghostbuster.

I slid down to her neck. If Cassie moved and I got left behind - well, I've been lucky in the trip so far, but I wouldn't want to push it any further than I had to. The only way to increase the odds of surviving was staying with my unwitting host.

Walking along her neck, I noticed her pulse directly under my feet. It was much stronger now, the source being much closer to the surface. Combined with the occasional swallow from Cassie, standing on her neck felt more like being in one of those carnival moon jump rides than a waterbed.

I approached the underside of her jaw. I reached out, laying my hand flat against her. Her skin was warm and soft to the touch, like silk. I quickly pulled off my boots and socks - it's rude to walk on someone's face with your shoes on, my mother always told me.

The next hundred feet or so were easy going. Cassandra's soft tissue under her jaw provided plenty of opportunity for handholds and other gripping surfaces. I have to admit also, that by this point I was becoming an expert at climbing a moving mountain. I wouldn't want to do it full time, but as a sport it could be fun - at the very least challenging.

I pulled myself over the jaw line rather quickly. I rolled for few feet before I came to a stop. Pulling myself upright, I gasped. Before me, the size of a larger battleship, was a lower lip. Presumably on the other side, was another lip - this one the upper one. The human body was wonderfully symmetrical that way. It (they) was dark pinkish/redish color, slightly parted. At my scale, I could easily see the wrinkles and folds in the lips before me.

Feeling brave, I ran my fingers along the length of the nearby lower lip, feeling the tiny imperfections in between the wrinkles. It looked like a Martian landscape, with interlacing valleys and canyons covering the surface. Some as thin as my finger, some almost as big as I am - and much larger.

I looked to the side, the long way I would have to walk. Even though it would add an half hour to my journey, I had no intention of climbing and crossing those same lips. I would be so much not a meal for this gargantuan lady it's not even funny. I don't think she would even notice me as I slid into the darkness screaming. Yeah, right - not going to happen. The long way it is, then.

After what seemed forever, I reached the halfway point, just coming around the end of her lip and starting towards her nose. One close call with a near brush of her hand later (did she actually notice this tickle on her cheek?), I approached her nose.

It was a mighty cavern, several hundred times bigger than I was. I advanced from the side, holding onto her as I drew near - it wouldn't do for me to get sucked in like some errant dust particle at this point. I crept around the corner, looking directly up her nose at the darkness beyond. A steady wind was blowing in and out, very hot and vaguely moist. I was blinded as the regular blast of air finally sent my normally behaved hair everywhere.

Feeling mischievous, I dug through my pockets, coming up with a rumpled napkin. Sticking my hand out on the next breath in, I let it go. For the briefest of moments, I could see the dot of white sail into the distance before fading from view. Time to go before I accidentally followed it.

I crossed to her right eye, the next vast expanse of flesh on the list that I had to traverse. I worked my way through her eyelashes, carefully making sure not to - I suddenly stopped. "Be careful not to WHAT? There's not a damn thing I can do to you, missie!" I shouted, kicking the eye as hard as I could.

Nope - not a flicker. Didn't think so.

I brazenly walked the gentle slope of the eye, to the middle and began jumping up and down as hard as I could. I tried kicking, stomping, shouting - all with the same predictable result. Worn out, I flopped down hard.

Sitting in the middle of her eyelid, I could feel the rapid shifting of her eye below me. I put my hand flat against her eye, feeling the ripples move beneath my palm. It was - well, as much as I hate to use vernacular like this, 'freaky' - actual Physical evidence that Cassandra was dreaming. Enough of this - time to arrive at her ear.

Reaching the rapidly descending slope of the side of her face, I looked down at the side of her head. The left ear was still several hundred feet away. I selected a strand of hair, one of many draped across her face near to where I was, and pulled hard. After several seconds of tugging, I was satisfied that the hair was still firmly attached and more than suitable for my needs.

Pulling on the hair, I set into the final long climb ahead of me. I was at it for nearly half an hour. My arms were burning with effort, my bare feet constantly slipped on Cassandra's smooth skin - but I had almost reached my goal. The tips of my toes had finally brushed the edge of her ear - when disaster struck. The headquarters alarm suddenly went off.

The ringing piercing the air harshly, shattering the silence that enveloped the building. Abruptly Cassie shot up in bed, swinging her legs over the edge. As she rose and her head turned, me and the hair I was on swung out in a wide arc, eventually smacking square into her lips. The tremendous force of the blow loosened my already tenuous grip on the mammoth follicle, and I dropped into space.

I tumbled to a stop, bouncing along a hard, flat firm surface. It was hot, humid - dark. I suddenly had a bad feeling about this. I looked around to catch my bearings, trying to figure out where I wound up. Of course, thanks to my luck - well, there I was, face down on my stomach, in the very middle of Cassie's tongue. Then the world went dark.

I am so screwed.

I fumbled around for my work light, finding it on my belt. Flicking it on, I was surprised by the amount of light that it gave off - enough to see the inside of Cassie's mouth in all it's cavernous glory. Her teeth seemed to stretch well over what seemed to be three stories tall each, while the entire mouth could easily hold a football stadium with room to spare. Her throat - well, that was well over six or seven stories tall.

Saliva secreted from her tongue, as I scrambled to my feet and began to sprint. If I can just make it to the edge of her tongue and get underneath it - well, I'd have a definitely have a very slim chance of survival, at least for a few seconds more. Cassie was unknowingly fighting me every step of the way - and winning. The shaking, rolling and undulating of the tongue made forward progress difficult if not impossible.

It was a few moments of this, when suddenly I was surrounded by noise - a dull rumbling coming up from the depths of my accidental captor's throat. Within seconds the rumble turned into a deafening "uhgn", promptly followed by a swallow. The mighty muscle beneath my feet rose briefly, undulated twice before a powerful suction overcame me. Thanks to all the liquid surrounding me, I had absolutely no viscosity - I slid the length of the tongue.

Digging my heels into the fleshy surface to slow my travel did no good. Flailing wildly, I tried to grab Cassie's uvula as I sailed past. There were a couple of tactical problems - the appendage I was attempting to hang on was as big around as a redwood tree, twitching like an electric eel, and slippery as a uh, as a - something really slippery. (It's kind of tough to think in adjectives when you're being swallowed alive).

I looked down - bad idea. Cassie's throat stretched off into the distance below me. I quickly glanced around for somewhere else to cling. Of course there wasn't anything even closely resembling safety. All around me was hot, pink slippery wet flesh.

"Cassie! Hey - CASSIE! Hello? DONT EAT ME, DAMNIT!" I craned my neck around to watch the front of her mouth. "Hello? Anyone out there? Yoo hoo!" No response. "HEY!" She didn't, couldn't hear me.

I hung there in the darkness for who knows how long. I had a grip of steel, as I clung desperately to the flesh before me. I felt motion - all kinds of motion, in addition to the occasional swallow. Then light poured into the mouth, and I went nearly deaf. She was talking to Louis Bond, the company's Ghostbuster on loan from the England franchise.

"Louis!" I shouted, my fingers giving out by this point - but clearly neither of them heard me. Also, neither of them heard my pathetic scream as the next wave of suction plucked me from my perch and sent me tumbling into her darkness.

It was a short, swift ride down a long dark meaty tube - not too dissimilar to a water slide. Although most water slides I've ever been on don't try to crush you with a deceptively gentle rolling squeezing motion.

Within seconds, I landed with a plop in Cassie's stomach.

Quickly, I looked around the large organic chamber. It stretched into the distance far above my head, and tapered out to a small hole just behind me. Fortunately the stomach was largely empty - thank whatever being was jumping me through these hoops for these small favors. From out of the corners of the darkness, sensing that there was a meal to be had, even one as small as me, she began secreting hydrochloric acid.

No time for sightseeing - I only had seconds to work. I ripped off the back of the proton pack, revealing the guts of the accelerator (and voiding the warrantee in the process). If I could expand the proton stream's containment field setting, and charged the field's ionization rate with the positron collider's, and reverse the polarity of the neutron flow - perhaps, just perhaps I could create a negative caustic field. In essence, neutralize the acid before it contacted my skin, equipment or other vital components. It was either that or become nutrients in my friend's bloodstream.

I stripped the PKE meter of several circuit boards, quickly snapping them into place on the pack. I yanked out the safety interlocks and tossed the now useless components aside. I didn't even spare a glance while the wiring were quickly dissolved into pasty silicon goo and promptly swept away into Cassie's lower intestine. Holding two loose wires in place, I quickly snapped power back on.

A tingle of electricity shot through my fingers and up my arm as energy returned to the vital systems - and the prickling in my legs stopped. I breathed a sigh of relief - the immediate crisis was over. Now however, a much larger, more insurmountable problem faced me - how to get out of my friend.

I should have stayed with her toes.

* * * *

Cassandra Stanford was in the midst of a lovely dream when she was jarred back to reality with all the subtly of a drunken Frenchman living in her head. Shooting up out of bed, she glanced at the clock radio by her bed - 4:23 in the morning. With a moan, she swung her legs out from under her covers, her bare feet hitting the cold wood floor.

"Ungh. . ." she paraphrased eloquently as she shuffled to the nearby closet. She flicked through the assorted jumpsuits there, discarding several before reaching a pristine, freshly washed regulation Ghostbusters International uniform. Quickly slipping on the jumpsuit and grabbing her boots from near the door, she exited the room and crossed to the fire pole.

"Hello Cassandra - you look ravishing this morning." Quipped the all too chipper Louis. Very polite, very proper - how the hell he got a job with Ghostbusters International in the first place was anybody's guess.

"Yeah, I'm sure." She mumbled, pulling on a proton pack from the equipment locker. "What's the call?"

"The Adler Planetarium - it's a couple of class six full spectrum apparitions. Some sort of giant penguins, or so the administrator claimed."

"Penguins at the planetarium? Sounds like we're in for some fun tonight. Everyone set?" Cassie asked, as she climbed into the back of the company's Ecto-1. Instead of a large hearse like most other franchises; GBI, Chicago had an old army surplus canvas truck from WWII. Large, noisy, prone to break down - but loaded with style.

"Everyone but Miss Winterborne. She still hasn't turned up from last night." Louis responded, helping Cassie into the back of the truck.

"You know Talia - she probably had a experiment go horribly wrong and wound up blasting herself into the fourth dimension or getting shrunk to microscopic proportions again."

"I hope not, I do so hate having to rescue her."

"I'm sure she's fine wherever she's at."

* * * *

I looked up at the sagging, meaty sack of Cassandra's stomach. All around me, the folds of Cassie's pink stomach lining reached up far above my head, arching toward the pucker of its entrance.

"The big problem facing me now was where to go from here." I said to myself, daintily reaching out a hand to touch the stomach lining before me. The wall felt squishy beneath my touch, firm yet yielding - more pliable than I thought. The wall itself was dark pink, secreting a film.

There was the obvious way out - my proton pack, her stomach. Aside, however from being messy, it would likely be detrimental to my friend's health. Leaving a pin-sized hole all the way through someone's abdomen couldn't be good for them. On the other hand, I could wait and let her body take its natural course - I could slip out with the waste. However, that would be even messier - at least on a personal scale. That and I have no idea how long the jury-rigged proton pack will hold out. (That and there was this little matter of air - I have no idea how much I had access to).

Either way you slice it, I had to get out of here and fast. The proton pack would only supply so much power - I was draining the reactor core at a fantastic rate. Eventually the pack would not have enough power to operate the nuclear containment grid - the resulting boom would be bad for me, and bad for my inadvertent captor.

Boom, eventually everything ends in boom.

But that could be dealt with soon enough - I had a front row seat for the something nobody else will ever see - at least from the inside. The stomach muscles began to contract around me. I turned to watch the closer sphincter relax slightly. Suddenly, without warning - there was a churning, and I was abruptly swept through the opening - as if I was a morsel of partially digested food.

After the tumbling and rolling came to a stop, I staggered to my feet. The pitiful work light strapped to my belt was sadly inadequate to illuminate the long tunnel of sagging flesh. Upper intestine? Lower intestine? I could never remember which came first. But - wherever I was, I was getting further and further away from the way out. (I guess on the other hand I was getting also closer to the way out all the time - but I really didn't want to use that exit.)

As I was standing there, I noticed a flicker of motion in the distance. Crap a white blood cell - the body's natural defense system, designed to circulate and destroy foreign invaders, of which I qualified for. Wait a sec - what the hell were they doing in the digestive system? Am I thinking of something else? Perhaps I'm mistaking these for well-dressed stomach enzymes. Whatever it was, it was heading right for me. This was getting out of hand.

Reaching behind me, I pulled my Nutrona thrower, and powered up. As much as I hated to start blasting, I could at least try and minimize the damage - I twisted the power output to a much lower intensity. At the touch of the trigger, surrounding tube was illuminated with the flickering orange and blue neon light. As the squiggling, undulating tendril of energy touched the antibody, it shriveled and collapsed.

It was only a few seconds before two more responded to the chemical burst that the first one produced when it was attacked. And that was the flaw with the plan - the more I blasted, the more arrived. I only had seconds before Cassandra's intestine turned into a scene directly out of Aliens.

Then I hit on an idea. Sorry, Cassie - but it's you or me. Swinging the thrower away from the advancing hordes, I started blasting the flesh surrounding me. The tissue blackened and scorched as the energy beam played across the wall. It worked, the organic mass diverted from me, and attached itself to the scar. Playing it safe, I spun around, and left a 20 foot long scorch mark on the other wall.

Enough playing around. Time to get out of here. . .

****

The trap lay in the center of the room, quietly beeping to itself. A trickle of smoke emanating from the crack between the closed doors of the trap was overshadowed by the smoke hanging thick in the room. Small fires were scattered around the main lobby of the museum, set where extraneous proton streams had struck.

Gustav lay on the floor, covered in mucus from the giant spectral penguin. He rolled around on his back, trying desperately to get up. Out from under cover came the other three Ghostbusters. Over in the corner of room, behind the information booth (or what was left of it), crouched the administrator of the facility - slack jawed and in shock over the millions of dollars in damage.

Louis walked to the center of the room and collected the trap, while Carmen crossed to the stunned administrator. Reaching him, she casually pulled off the top sheet from a receipt book and thrust it into his hands. "It's been lovely doing business with you. Call us anytime."

Suddenly a moan cut through the room. Everyone turned just in time to see Cassie double over and drop to all fours in pain. After a few seconds, she slowly unfolded, not quite steady enough to rise to her feet. She slumped back on her heels.

Louis was the first to her side. "What? What's wrong?"

She managed to unclench her jaw enough to respond. "It. . . it feels like I just got kicked in the gut by -- something." She started to climb to her feet, only to double over again. "Ungh - there it is again!"

Gustav, who had managed to get to his feet , pointed a beeping PKE meter at the moaning girl. "It's probably some sort of class 7 possession." He took one arm, helping her to her feet. "We'd better take you back to the lab for study."

Carmen stopped helping Cassie up, a confused look on her face. "Your kidding right? Don't you think there be something physically wrong with her? Wouldn't a hospital be better equipped for this?"

Gustav waved a hand in dismissal. "Nonsense - this is clearly some sort of paranormal force at work!"

The other Ghostbuster simply rolled her eyes in defeat. "Sheesh - whatever."

* * * *

Later, back at headquarters . . .

Gustav swung the scanner apparatus back into place and snapped it home. "Well, there's nothing on the spectral analysis scope. The full spectrum wave form generator comes up negative, and the PKE meter came up dry."

Cassandra propped herself up on her elbows, and made for swinging her legs off the table. "Well - pain stopped, you can't find anything. I guess it's back to work."

Gustav reached out and pushed her back down. "No, give me a chance. I'm not quite done yet." He grabbed a meter off the table and adjusted the controls. After a few seconds, he pointed it at her. "Hmm, there's higher than normal radiation readings. Not bad - just unusual." He ran the device the length of her body, starting at her toes and working his way to her head. "Hmph - it might just be a leak from a proton pack. Or perhaps . . ."

Lost in thought, he adjusted the controls some more - a blip showed up on the screen. A twist to the gain knob, a slide of the power level, and the blip focused in intensity.

"Oh, my - that's a person."

"Huh?" Cassie sat up.

Gustav turned the meter in her direction. "Look! Lets see if I can refine it more. Defiantly a person, with a proton pack heat signature."

Cassandra flopped back on the table, hand against her forehead. "Great - so what the hell is Talia doing inside of me?"

The room was disrupted by the squeak of loudspeaker feedback as Louis brought a portable loudspeaker/microphone set up over - basically a tricked out Mr Microphone, Ghostbusters style. He put it right next to Cassandra's stomach. "Um, Talia? Can you hear me?"

Gustav rolled his eyes. "Oh, yeah - how are we going to hear her response back?"

Louis thought for a moment. "Ah - sign language? Smoke signals?"

"Get real. Here, give me that!" Cassandra snatched the mike away from the two. "Hello Talia - Ok, look, we've figure out where you are. Everything's going to be fine."

"Ask her if she's ok?" Louis interjected.

"Are you - would you quit being stupid!" She shoved Louis back. "Ok, Talia, just stay put. We're going to figure out how to get you out of there before too long! Stand by." She flicked the power to the mike and sat up. "So, how do we get her out of me?"

"Operate?"

"There's always the possibility of an extraction through a Dimensional rift?"

"Send someone in after her!"

Cassandra held up a hand. "It's bad enough that I've got Curly inside of me, I don't need Larry and Moe joining her. And that's final!"

"Ex-lax?"

"Oh yuck!" went most of the occupants of the room.

During this whole exchange, Carmin remained silent, leaning against the wall, arms folded across her chest, head heavy as she looked at the floor. Finally, as the stupidity level in the room began to rise significantly, she spoke. "Just have her come out the same way she went in? Have her climb out."

Cassandra looked up. "That's so simple, it's crazy! It might just work." She grabbed the mike again. "Ok, Talia - I'm going to lie down and hold still. Just climb out if you can." Gustav grabbed the tri spectrum analyzer off the table and pointed it at Cassie's mid section. "Tell her we'll be monitoring everything from out here."

"You just did. I haven't turned the mike off yet."

"Ah. Oh. Well. Ah - ok, then. Lets get underway."

****

I sat up like a shot, at the booming voices from above. Finally - contact with the outside world!

Climb out? Duh - why didn't I think of that? I held on as the world around me shifted and rolled - Cassie lying down. The curve of the stomach made reaching the opening much easier that I would have imagined.

Forcing my way through that tight ring of muscle was much harder than I figured. The tissue was inflexible and unyielding, and much, much stronger than I was. However, I was persistent - it was not. I worked my fingers through a fold, eventually getting my whole right hand inside. The ring tightened up briefly, reacting to my presence, but let go a second later.

Before it could tighten again, I forced my whole arm through, up the shoulder. From there, I could apply enough leverage to wiggle and pop though. I rolled through to the other side.

I sat up, shining my meager flashlight down the tube of flesh. I shook my head, a strange thought passing through it. As I began walking, I was astounded to realize how much a human esophagus looks just like that long spinning tunnel from the episode of the Six Million Dollar Man - the one with the cybernetic bigfoot monsters, where Steve Austin had to navigate a length of rotating tunnel that was the entrance to the Cybernetic Bigfoot Monster's lair. Of course the spinning messed up his bionics, and eventually he did have to fight one of the bigfoots in the passageway, at the climax of the episode. Except my surroundings were pink, not ice blue.

Where that came from, I'll never know.

As I walked, I eventually heard the sound the rush of air in and out of Cassandra's lungs. It sounded like a subway train fully loaded with live chickens racing past at a hundred miles an hour.

Eventually I reached the top, the moment of truth. The world shifted around me again, and I felt an increase in pressure as Cassandra sat up. Moments later, a strong light hit my eyes as Cassandra opened her mouth. Beyond a double row of teeth, lips and gums, I could see the outside world. Safety was just a few hundred feet away.

A glint of humor overcame me. I ran for a few seconds, picking up a head of speed. I jumped, landed and skidded along her tongue like a mammoth slip-n-slide. I skidded for a few seconds before my feet hit a bump on the tongue, sending me tumbling head over heels. I landed, coming to a stop, another bump directly in front of me. I realized what it was - I had tripped over a taste bud! I rolled onto my back and began laughing uncontrollably.

Walked between Cassie's two lower front teeth, climbing her lip. I waved at Carmen, who moved her finger next to the lip.

I stepped on. Safe at last.

***

Cassandra looked at the finger closely. "What is she doing?"

Carmen adjusted the ecto-visor, increasing the magnification. "It looks like she's pointing at you, and then at her own ear. I think she's trying to communicate."

"Well, no duh - wouldn't you?" She said, looking at her funny. "So, what are you waiting for?"

***

I watched, intrigued, as the two titans discussed with fascination their miniscule friend lurking on a finger before them both. I could easily hear them both, but the conversation had a very abstract and disjointed feel about it.

The communication came to an abrupt end. I quickly flipped over onto my stomach and clung to Carmen's finger for dear life. My fingernails digging into the print ridges below me. Within seconds, my stomach felt like it was about to shoot out my mouth as the finger rose into the air. Almost as quickly as it had begun it was over. I had finally reached my goal.

Walking to the edge of the fingertip, I looked at the soft skin directly below me. Tired, sore - wanting to get this done and over with - "Ah screw it." I leapt from the finger perch into the soft fleshy folds of her outer ear.

Standing up, I was dwarfed by the size of the acoustical organ that lay before me. It was slightly warmer here than on other spots on Cassie - probably because of the proximity to her head. The skin was much softer here than elsewhere on her. I could smell a faint trace of peaches in the air.

Taking a few brave steps forward, I spoke firmly into the ear. "Hey! Cassie!"

No response.

Gathering up my courage, I shouted. "HEY"

Still nothing.

Turning around to Carmin, who was still watching me, and shrugged. No way I was about to come this far, only to be stopped by a little thing like my size. Boldly, I walked into the depths of her ear. It was a tighter fit than I would have imagined. I still had no problem slipping further into the depths of Cassie's head.

A few dozen feet into the ear, I began encountering a fine field of hairs, much smaller than the ones I encountered on her toe. These were soft and gentle, like a field of tall grass. I grabbed one, running my fingers down its length. It had a vaguely plastic feeling (from the wax all about me, no doubt), and very firm - obviously designed to keep dirt and other funk out. Well, after coming this far, I was not about to be kept out by some defense system. I brushed them aside with ease and continued inward.

After the hairs began to thin out, and the buildup was left behind, Cassie's ear canal narrowed around me. Running my fingertips along the wall as I walked, I could feel ripples in the flesh. Subtle in construction, smooth in form - and very, very soft. I stopped for a second, looking at the ceiling above me. I wonder what this feels like - to have someone walking around inside your head. Knowing that it was a human being, causing nothing more than a faint tickle in your year - understanding that nobody in human history could go there - a near microscopic person inside your head.

That must be weird.

Of course, the Warner Brothers Cartoon portion of my brain hoped that I'd find a door leading into her head somewhere in here.

Eventually the narrow tunnel of flesh opened up dramatically and abruptly. Before me was Cassie's eardrum - and no door. The membrane was huge, about the surface area of a small house. Her eardrum was thin enough to be almost translucent - when I put my work light against it, I could see shapes and shadows beyond, moving ever so slightly. It was her inner ear's mechanics, moving in response to the noises all around her. Here's hoping that I could become part of that noise.

***

Cassandra closed her eyes, focusing on the tiny almost imperceptible movements within her ear. A slight prickling kicked up wherever Talia touched her, or took a step. It was almost enough to be ticklish - but not quite. Still, she wished that either Talia would be more careful, stop occasionally to scratch, or would get the heck out of the way so she could scratch herself. Still, she just lay there and took the torture.

It was hard to believe that it was a mirco-sized version of her friend causing it.

Suddenly a small voice broke the silence, coming from the right. Cassandra resisted the urge to turn in that direction. "Testing, testing - one, two, three."

"Yeah, I hear you." she said, very quietly. "I'd ask how's it going, but that seems kind of silly considering where you are at."

Inside the ear, the voice boomed from everywhere - not at a painfully loud volume, but more in a 'THX - the audience is listening . . .' sort of way. James Earl Jones with the bass turned way up. "Yup, Cassie's amp goes all the way up to eleven . . ." I almost said. Instead, I shucked the proton pack, settled into a cross-legged position and flopping onto my back.

"You'll never guess what I've done and where I've been." She stopped and raised her head. "Oh, by the way - yesterday you crushed about 25 thousand dollars worth of equipment in one shot. Good going."

"Well, if you didn't leave microscopic equipment lying about the lab, then perhaps this sort of thing wouldn't happen."

I shot up to my feet, coming within inches of her eardrum. "Well if you watched where you put those battleship sized feet of yours, this sort of thing wouldn't happen."

"You know, if you were five and a half feet taller I'd. . ."

"Yeah, yeah - I love you too." I said, patting her drum, turning away. "As much as I'd love to continue this fascinating banter, I'd like to get out of your head - and you'd probably like for me to not be inside you anymore, right? So - I need someone to call Ghostbuster Headquarters in New York. Get another Unified Micro-dimensional Hyper-synthetic Psychomagnatheric Interface unit - and while we're at it, see if Doctor Spengler can also come out. Not that I don't trust you, but this is a bit more scientific that what you're used to."

"Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence." She crossed her arms and looked half annoyed - not that the intended target could see what she was doing. "Anything else you need?"

"Yeah - an eight hour nap." I stripped off my jumpsuit, folded it neatly, and lay back down with it under my head. "Since I'm reasonably safe in here - you wouldn't mind, would you?" I didn't even wait for an answer - I was out like a light within seconds.

"Talia, I swear - if you start snoring, I'm coming in there after you . . ."

***

"Ghostbusters - you scream, we cream. How may I help you?" the young lady with the red hair and angular eyeglasses said. Her New York accent was strong enough to cut through battleship hull plating. "Uh, huh. . . I see." She murmured as she took notes.

A small dog sized translucent green spud of a ghost slowly drifted into view behind the secretary, looking curiously at the phone. Whether he was trying to make up his mind to listen to the phone or eat the phone was unclear. "EGON" she shouted, scaring the green ghost away. "Line seven - it's for you!"

***

Doctor Spengler was busily comparing notes on a clipboard. In the corner, a dashing young man with a hairdo that looked like a crazed hedgehog had died on his head was smoothly hitting on Cassandra. A moderate sized black man was manhandling a large piece of equipment up a flight of stairs to the lab, assisted by Carmen. Spot, not in the mood to put up with any funny business, was in the middle of a stare down contest with the green translucent ghost - and winning.

Otherwise known as business as usual in the Ghostbusters office.

"According to my calculations, a reversed polarity on the nutron flow should counteract the compression field. In theory this should restore miss Winterborne to her normal height and mass. That or implode the space-time continuum in the immediate area."

"How immediate?" Gustav asked.

Egon briefly tapped out some figures on his palmtop computer. "Only three or four states." He checked his notes again. "Perhaps only most of the East Coast - but not much more past that . . . probably."

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Casandra inquired, crossing to the machine.

"Why start now?" Doctor Venkman quickly added.

Without much warning, Dr Spengler gently placed the slide containing Tallia under the focal point of the non-sequential laser infindibulator, and quickly flicked the power switch.

And the whole room went white . . .

***

As the white light faded from my eyes, vision slowly returned. I quickly glanced around, confused at my surroundings. First thing I noticed right away was that I was floating, as if weightless. The sky was dark, dotted by . . . what appeared to be distant points of light? Was I in space? Then it hit me.

No, really - I was hit in the back of the head by a hard object. I reached around and plucked it from where it had become entangled in my hair. It was a small, round black object, about the size of a softball. Its surface was cool to the touch, smooth and very, very hard. Swirling around the round object was several smaller ball-like objects, in a constant, regular orbit. It only took me a moment to figure out what it was and where I am.

"Oh crap. This is a molecule."

I am going to have a long, long talk with Doctor Spengler when I get back . . . .