While Zeck crouched down in his hovercar in terror, Wes looked up and shook his head.  “Marigold must have grown again,” he said.  “She doesn’t know her own strength.”

Wes turned to Zeck.  “If you’re ready, Zeck, I’ll take you out to meet your tour guide for today.”

Zeck nodded, still somewhat stunned by what had happened.  Gingerly, Wes picked up the hovercar with Zeck in it and walked out the door.

Sarah was already outside, grinning up at the most enormous giantess Zeck had ever seen.  The towering figure was well over 200 meters tall.  She was also even more zaftig than any of the giantesses he had seen, and by far the most beautiful.  There was a similarity in appearance to Sarah, but Zeck thought it to be no contest; this new giantess, apparently named Marigold, was easily the most lovely woman he had ever seen in his life.

“Eight-Mama!” Marigold said, stretching her arms toward Sarah, who was less than half her height.

“Marigold!  Give your eight-mama a hug!” Sarah said.  Marigold scooped the smaller giantess up and hugged her tightly.

After Sarah was again on her feet, she looked at Zeck.  “I’m so glad people are big enough to give me a proper hug,” she said.  “Of course, the best was the first, when Wesley grew, but the hugs from the descendants are … really special.”

Zeck realized that Sarah was speaking in her full voice.  It hit him that she was at a slightly greater distance from him, and that there was no reverberation of sound off the interior walls.  She had taken that into account, something that probably came from centuries of practice in dealing with standards.

But then Zeck looked back up at Marigold.  He felt his heart pounding in his chest as he watched breasts as big as hills moving with her chest as she breathed.  The cascade of golden hair that flowed over her shoulders was more than 100 feet long.  He felt his knees growing weak.  He found he couldn’t look away.

“Eight-Papa!” said Marigold.  “And I know you from your web casts, Mr. Runyan.  Pleased to meet you.”

Zeck tried to form words, but found he couldn’t.

Marigold giggled.  “Oh, dear,” she said.  “I’m sorry.  I seem to be … overwhelming you.”

Zeck tried again to form words, but still couldn’t.

Wes smiled.  “Sorry, Zeck,” he said.  “You’re experiencing a phenomena standards sometimes have around our people -- especially standard men around giantesses.  If the giant finds the standard person in any way attractive, they may unconsciously send out pheromone signals, and those signals can be quite … overwhelming to standards.”

Zeck was starting to pull himself together.  He looked up at Marigold. “So, this is because you find me … attractive?  Cute?  Handsome?”

Marigold giggled again.  “Yes,” she said.  “All of the above.  Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Zeck said.  “The feeling is mutual.”

Marigold blushed.

An alarmed glance passed between Sarah and Wes.  “Wes, with her condition --” Marigold said.

Wes raised his free hand.  “I know,” he said.  He looked up at Marigold, “Sunny, are you sure this is a good idea, for you to give Mr. Runyan a tour today?  I mean, the surges --”

“I know the risks, Eight-Papa,” Marigold said.  “It won’t hurt if I have a surge or two.  And, besides, I didn’t recommend Mr. Runyan to you just because he was cute.  I really think he’s a good reporter and will do well with covering this.  You watched and read his work and agreed.”

“True enough,” Wes said.  “Well, Zeck, if it’s all right with you, Marigold will give you a tour of the community, then we’ll continue the interview here.  Sarah and I are going to prepare some of our food for you -- Don’t worry, it won’t make you grow into a giant or anything, and we don’t eat standards.  We’re still human, so that would be cannibalism.”

Marigold leaned down over Wes, her hair surrounding the two men, her face blocking the sky.  She smiled an irresistible smile.  “So, what do you say, Mr. Runyan?”

“Zeck,” he said.  “And, yes, I’ll go with you.”

Marigold smiled.  “Call me Marigold,” she said.  “Would you mind riding on my shoulder without your car?   My shoulders are big enough you’ll be in no danger, and it’ll be easier for me.”

“Sounds fine,” said Zeck.  Sarah looked worried momentarily, then consciously relaxed her face as much as she could.

Gingerly, Marigold held out a finger to Wesley, who wasn’t as tall as Marigold’s knees.  Wes had Zeck climb over to Marigold’s fingertip.

The 200-meter-plus woman stood up slowly.  “I don’t want the force of my movement to hurt you,” she said.  Then she held her fingertip to her shoulder, allowing Zeck to climb onto it.   He grabbed hold of a flap of the linen jumpsuit she wore, noticing that there seemed to be far more buttons and snaps on it than he had seen on those of other giants in the community.

“Well, we’ll be off,” Marigold said.

“See you in a couple of hours,” Wes said.   “Have fun!”

“But not too much fun,” added Sarah, the worried look back on her face.

As Marigold walked away, Zeck said, “So, you can hear me?  Most giantesses are too big to hear standards.”

“A few of us have been given the gift of sensitivity,” Marigold said.  “We can hear things and have levels of senses of touch and movement that allow us to interact with standards.  I happen to be one of those.”

“Standards?”

Marigold nodded as she walked.  “We have to call the people in the outside world something.  Calling you ‘normals’ would imply that we’re abnormal, but this is normal to us.  To call you ‘tinies’ or ‘little people’ or anything like that implies that you’re somehow less than us, but we believe that all humans are equal in the sight of God, no matter their size.  Even calling you ‘outsiders’ implies that either you or we are somehow alien to each other.  So, we went with ‘standards’ for a name that has no negative connotations either way.”

“That makes sense,” Zeck said.   “Is everything in your culture so reasoned out?”

“At our scale, we have to plan ahead and think things through carefully,” Marigold said.  “If we don’t look out for each other and think things through, it becomes harder to operate, to simply function.”

“Ok, I have some questions of a more personal nature,” Zeck said.  “You called Wes and Sarah “eight-papa” and “eight-mama.”  I’ve never heard those terms among standards.”

“Simple,” Marigold said.  “They’re my great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great- grandparents -- eight greats.  As long as we live and as many children as we can bear, we just condensed it to save time.  My ancestor, Faith Hope Bell Myers, is my seven-mama.  My children will call Wes and Sarah nine-papa and nine-mama.”

“Simple and practical,” Zeck said.  And your eight-papa called you ‘Sunny.’  Why Sunny?”

“Oh, that,” Marigold said. She smiled coyly, an enormous finger flipping her golden hair off her colossal ear.  “It’s his nickname for me.  When I started getting really tall, he would joke that I was named for the wrong flower.  With my blond ‘crown’ rising for the sky, he said I was more like a sunflower, so he called me Sunflower.  Later, that got shortened to ‘Sunny.’”

“Sunny.  I like it,” Zeck said.

“Marigold giggled.  “He’s the only one who calls me that,” she said.  “But from you it sounds good.”  Her cheeks blushed slightly, something her scale made obvious to Zeck.

“But I’m surprised at the analogy,” Zeck said.  “To your people, sunflowers would be about my size.  They hardly reach for the sky.”

“Oh, don’t they?”  Marigold said.  She turned off the path she’d been on and strode past two buildings to a patch of sunflowers that were nearly as tall as she was.  Zeck’s jaw dropped at the sight as she said, “We grow them for the seeds as a food source.”

“But how do they get so big?” Zeck asked.


“Well, it’s a little embarrassing in your culture,” Marigold said.  “Our bodily waste turns out to be a super-fertilizer for some plants, so we use it to grow the food we need -- including sunflower seeds.”

“Well, it’s eminently practical,” Zeck said.  “So, how many of you are taller than the sunflowers?”

Marigold stopped smiling,” Just me,” she said.

Sensing something important, Zeck asked, “Marigold, how tall are you?”

Marigold sighed.  “Today, 681 feet,” she said, “and I’m still growing.”

“How tall is the next tallest person?”

“That’s my cousin, Kimberly,” Marigold said.  “She’s 624 feet tall.”

Zeck looked up at the titanic beauty.  “That’s quite a difference,” he said.

“Believe me, I know,” Marigold said.  “See, I have this … medical condition that few of us have had in the last two generations that’s making me keep growing.  All the others have stopped.  Me, well …”

“Do you not want to talk about it?”

Marigold smiled a sad smile.  “Actually, I think people worry about it too much.  And that includes Eight-Mama Sarah.  After all the growing she did, she worries about me growing so much.  That was how God made her.  This is how God made me.  And I don’t believe God made me wrongly.”

Zeck smiled, looking down from Marigold’s shoulder at the massive sunflowers below him.  “Well, from what little I’ve seen, I think you’re a pretty special woman,” he said.  “And, by the way, the ‘Sunflower’ nickname?  It doesn’t do you justice.  If you’ll forgive me saying so, I think you’re far more beautiful than this whole patch of sunflowers, or any other flowers I’ve ever seen.”

“Really?” Marigold said, looking at the reporter on her shoulder with wide eyes.

Zeck smiled up at her.  “Absolutely,” he said.  “In fact, it’s probably unprofessional of me to say this, but I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

Smiling, Marigold swallowed hard.  “Thanks,” she said.  “You … You’re even more handsome in person than on your webcasts.”

“That’s good to hear from anyone, and better from you,” Zeck said.

Suddenly Zeck heard a noise like a dozen trains highballing by at once, and what seemed to be an earthquake beneath him.  He dropped to lie flat on Marigold’s shoulder, fearing an temblor.

Once the surge stopped, Zeck stood up.  He looked up at Marigold, who looked distraught.  “Marigold, are you all right?”

Marigold looked down at Zeck and tried, with only partial success, to recompose her facial expression.  “Yes,” she said.  “It’s just that I’ve never had two growth surges so close together, and these are the two biggest surges I’ve ever had.  This last one was the biggest.  I think I’ve picked up another 25 feet in height, and my bust is looking even bigger to me than before.”

“Should we call off the tour?” Zeck asked.

Marigold set her expression resolutely.  “Absolutely not,” she said.  “I want to do this, it needs to be done, and you’re the one chosen to do it.  Besides, being taller, it’ll make the walk a little bit quicker.”

“Then let’s go,” Zeck said.

After a couple of minutes, Zeck said, “Marigold, what do you do when one of you dies?”

Marigold sighed.  “Not many have yet, because our life spans are so long,” she said.  “But we have lost a few of us.  We have funeral services, of course.  But, unlike most western practices for standards’ deaths, we cremate the bodies.  Since cremation is incomplete, and bones don’t burn to ash, we  bury the bones.”

“Do you keep the ashes?” Zeck asked.

Marigold gently shook her head, making sure her hair didn’t knock Zeck off her shoulder.  “The reality is, our ashes are another good fertilizer, and we need all the resources we have,” she said.

“You really try not to waste anything,” Zeck said.  “But why not bury your dead?”

“Think how big the graveyard would need to be,” Marigold said.  ‘We can’t afford to take that kind of space.”

Zeck nodded.  There was a pause as he processed what he had heard.

“Actually, our bones were central in developing artificial stone, the type we use for our housing,” Marigold said.  “Before our first death, we used either what you call pole barns or Quonset huts made of corrugated sheet metal.  They were our only real options.”

“Right,” said Zeck.  “That’s one of the benefits to the world from your culture.  It’s like the use of some of your antibodies, which were modified and have basically wiped out cancer and several other illnesses among standards.”

“Well, illness is basically nonexistent among us,” Marigold said.

“You were talking about services earlier,” Zeck said.  “To standards, Bellism is something of a mystery.  Can you explain it?”

Marfigold was watching the ground as she walked, trying to be careful of where she stepped.  “Um, well, it’s got the basics of Christianity.  We apply the Amish principals of living as people apart from the world, which is also just practical.  We also follow elements of Protestantism brought in by Eight-Papa Wes.  But we also honor the Two Miracles of our people.”

“The two miracles?”

Marigold gently nodded.  “If you’ve read Eight-Papa’s memoir, you know about them,” she said.  “The first was Eight-Mama’s growing, a gift some thought was a curse.  We tend to view all things as gifts of God, when we take time to reflect.  Being human, we don’t always do that part perfectly.

“The second miracle, the Great Miracle, was when Eight-Papa and Eight-Mama were able to conceive Seven-Mama Faith.  That led to all the blessings that followed -- Eight-Papa’s growth and the start of our community as others were able to become giants.”

“It sounds like the circumstances around the miracles are used as lessons in how to live,” Zeck said.

“Much like the Protestant church’s preaching style,” Marigold said.

There was another few minutes’ pause before Zeck asked, ‘Marigold, what about crime and criminals?’”

“What about it?” she asked.  “We don’t have any.”

Zeck pulled bac k his head with a confused expression.  “I don’t understand,” he said.  “How can you not have crime?”

“Crime tends to come from two sources: greed and agression,” Marigold said.  “We share so much, and have to rely on each other for everything, and, of necessity, live so simply that there’s nothing much to be greedy about, and agression tends to be a male thing.  Our men are smaller than our women, and cooler heads prevail more often than not.

“That’s not to say we don’t have disputes.  Each community’s elders help settle them.  Giants who are unsatisfied with that can appeal to Eight-Papa Wes and Eight-Mama Sarah, but I don’t think I’ve ever heard of them overturning a decision.”

“There have been a couple of cases of giants acting aggressively toward standards,” Zeck said.

“Two cases in 250 years,” Marigold said.  “and, in both cases, the biggest of our giantesses went out, corralled the men and took them back to the community.  We dealt with them there.”

Zeck nodded.  “Have there been any other incidents you know of?”

Marigold chuckled.  “You’re going to think this is just P.R., but, no, none.”

“P.R.?” Zeck said.

“Public relations,” Marigold said.  “Isn’t that what you call it?”

“You must have gotten that term from your Eight-Papa,” Zeck said.  “These days, we call it ‘P.I.’ for public information, although I think sometimes it’s more like disinformation.”

Marigold looked at Zeck out of the corner of her eye.  “I feel like we’re not talking the same language,” she said.  “Eight-Papa said P.I. was short for private investigator, and I’ve never heard of ‘disinformation.’”

“I hope I get the chance to explain it to you sometime,” Zeck said.

Marigold blushed, then pointed ahead of them.  “There’s Myersville, and the Standard Sexual Center is on this side of town.  Let’s go there, if that’s all right.”

Zeck actually got flustered for a second.  “Standard Sexual Center?”

Marigold giggled.  “Not for us, silly,” she said.  “At least … Anyway, when a giant and a standard fall in love, they have two choices if they want a relationship.  The standard can grow to giant size, using some of the growth hormone from our women’s milk, or they can come to a sexual center so the standard can remain standard-size.  Sometimes that’s what they choose to do.”

Zeck shook his head.  “This wasn’t what I expected here at all, with all the inherent Amishness,” Zeck said.

“It’s Amish in its practicality,” Marigold said.  “And, if God is calling these two people both to love and to different lives, we can still work to help them connect.”

Zeck was now the one blushing.  “So, how does this work?” he asked.

Marigold ducked into the building.  “Couples sign up for a room and a special sensor suit for the standard.  Depending on which one’s the standard, the suits are very different.  Women’s suits are designed mostly to protect them from the sheer force of a giant man’s ejaculation.  Men’s suits are like your diving suits: pressurized and with an air supply.  Each suit increases the stimulation the giant feels from the standard’s contact with … key areas of the body, and help the standard feel pleasure as well.”

Suddenly Zeck felt a strong, and now familiar, sensation.  “Marigold, are you sending out pheromones again?’

Marigold’s eyes got wide as she blushed.

“Thinking about using this place with me?” Zeck asked.

Marigold’s eyes widened further.  “How did you know?” she asked.

Zeck looked embarrassed.  “I was thinking the same thing,” he said.

Suddenly Marigold’s expression took on a familiar look -- familiar from two prior situations.  “I need to get outside now,” she said.

“Oh, no,” Zeck said.

Marigold smiled down at him as she ducked out the door.  “Oh, yes,” she said.

As soon as Marigold got outside, the sound of 50 freight trains struck Zeck’s ears.  He realized that Marigold was growing more and faster than ever.

When it stopped, Zeck looked down from Marigold’s shoulder  It was obvious her outfit was nearing its limit, and that her bosom was growing faster than the rest of her with each surge.  He believed her breasts were big enough now for him to climb down them safely, and he was tempted to do so.

Then he realized how much lower the building he had just been in seemed.  Marigold could no longer enter the building, and wouldn’t have been able to stand up or exit it if she had been inside.

Zeck looked up at Marigold.  How could she be getting more beautiful? he wondered.  Yet clearly, she was.

“Well, that’s your biggest yet,” Zeck said.  “I think you picked up about 20 more meters.”

Marigold laughed nervously.  “Yeah,” she said.  “I’ve picked up about 100 feet today.  Um, well, that’s everything I wanted to show you, and I think I’d better get you home before I …” her voice trailed off.

“Before you outgrow your clothes,” Zeck said.

Marigold looked at him and nodded gently.

She walked back to Yoder.  “I’m a little afraid to see Eight-Mama,” Marigold said.  “She worries about my surges, and today isn’t going to help that.”

“Marigold, can I admit something?” Zeck asked.

“Surely,” Marigold said.

“Maybe I should be worried about your growth surges, but I’m not,” Zeck said.  “In fact, I’m flattered.  All this growing you did today is because of how you feel about me, and I like it.  All I need to do is look at you and I know just how you feel about me.”

Zeck could see gallons of tears -- a tiny amount to Marigold -- forming in her eyes.  “Really?” she said.

“Really,” he said.  “And I wish I could show you how I feel.  I mean, I’m a believer in love at first sight, and … Maybe I’ve said too much.”

Marigold’s expression screamed what was about to happen.  “Tell me if that’s how you feel in a few minutes,” she said.

Now it was the sound of 100 freight trains Zeck heard as Marigold shot even higher into the air.  In minutes she had grown more than 100 feet.  Her outfit ripped, but maintained basic levels of coverage -- barely.

Zeck was crying and smiling as he stared up athe face of the 900-foot-plus beauty.  “You, too?” he said.

Marigold nodded.  “What do we do now?”

“Um, if I want to date you, don’t I have to clear it with somebody?” Zeck asked.

“An elder in my family,” Marigold said.  “And we’re going to the eldest elders’ house now.”

“Let’s go,” Zeck said.

Marigold simply tapped on the house roof, which no longer came up to her hips, when they arrived.  Sarah freaked out, as Wes would have put it, until Zeck spoke, his voice feeding into a huge screen Sarah could read.

“Mrs. Bell, I understand your concerns,” Zeck said,  “But Marigold and I both think her condition is a gift of God -- not a gift without its burdens, but a gift nevertheless,” Zeck said.  “and we think our meeting is a gift, too, one that could lead to something more.  We know there are consequences, but we believe we’re being led to take those chances.  Please, give us that chance.”

Sarah looked up at Marigold.  “What he said,” Marigold said.

Sarah looked at Wes.  “Remind you of anybody?” he asked.

Sarah smiled.  “How could it not remind me of us?” she said.  “But, Wes, the cost to Marigold --”

“--  Is her choice to bear,” Wes said.

Sarah nodded.  “You’d best get out some spare sheets and blankets,” the first giantess said.  “I think we’re going to need them for Sunny when we tell her the news.”

Sarah had forgotten how keen Marigold’s ears were.  “You’re saying yes?” the tallest giantess said ecstatically.

Sarah gave Zeck a smiling glance as she turned to marigold and said, “yes, we’re saying yes.”

Zeck heard the loudest rumble yet and realized that this surge was more than 200 feet.  Marigold was now somewhere around 1,150 feet tall.  She was literally so tall as to be a human mountain now.

Marigold knelt down to what she saw as her increasingly tiny beau.  “I’ve never even been allowed to think much about boys for fear of the surges,” she said.

“I can see why,” Zeck said.  “But I love it.”

Marigold carried Zeck and his hover car off on her fingertip, wearing a makeshift bikini and waving back to her ancestors as she left.

Sarah stared after her.  What have we done? she thought.

It was a few days later when the big screen vid unit Wes used as a cell phone rang.  He answered to find it was Zeck.  “What brings you to call?” Wes asked.

“Well, sir --”

“Wes.”

“Wes, I have something I’ll need to ask Marigold, and I think it will need the approval of an elder in her family.  I know you, so I thought I could ask you.”

“So, what’s on your mind?”

Wes heard out Zeck’s plan.  “And why do you want to do this?”

“It’ll pay enough money for me to implement the plans I’m hoping to act on with Marigold,” Zeck answered.  "Actually, I kind of got the idea from rereading your memoir from when Sarah grew.”

Wes smiled.  “I can see that,” he said.  “But is that all?”

Zeck took a deep breath.  “No sir -- Wes,” he said.  “But it seems a little fast for the other part of my idea.”

“From what I’ve seen in Marigold -- and I don’t just mean her size -- I’m not sure I agree,” he said.  “But that’s your decision.  In any event, I approve of your plan -- and, if part two is what I think it is, I approve of that, too.  I could use another reporter in … well, you know.”

“Thank you, Wes,” Zeck said.  “Now I just need to ask Marigold.”

Zeck was out to see Marigold the next day.  He was astonished to see that she was still the same size -- until she saw him.  Suddenly his colossal love added another hundred meters to her height.

“Are you all right?” Zeck asked.  “Where are you living?”

“I’ve made a tent,” Marigold answered.  “It’s really mostly for changing clothes.  I’m so big I’m pretty much immune to the elements.  The only weather phenomenon that worries me is lightning, and there’s just not much I can do about that.”

“Marigold, I need to discuss something with you,” Zeck said.  “It’s a professional thing.”

“OK,” Marigold said.  “Go ahead.”

“See, I had to tell my editor about us because it could influence how I wrote the story.  He had no problem with running it, but he’s also hoping I’ll do a blog … about us.  And, specifically, about you, the biggest woman in the world.”

Marigold’s brow furrowed.

“Look, if you don’t want to, I won’t,” Zeck said.  “In fact, my first instinct was to tell him no right away, but they’re offering me an insane amount of money for just a few write-ups -- enough to buy us some land where we’d be able to set up what you’d need to live, even if you get a lot bigger.  A LOT bigger.”

Marigold pulled her head back slightly in surprise.  “Is there that much money?”

Zeck laughed.  “Oh, yes,” he said.

“Zeck, we’ve got to have a place for me to live,” Marigold said. "I’m outgrowing even the giant community’s ability to cope with my condition.  If this will provide a means to do it, I think we’ve got to pursue it.”

“All right,” said Zeck.  “I promise, I won’t submit anything without your prior approval.”

“Speaking of approval, we need to ask an elder,” Marigold said.

Zeck smiled.  “Will your eight-papa do?  He’s already given his permission.”

Marigold laid down with her face toward her love.  “Zeck, you do think of everything,” she said.

It was two visits later before Zeck worked up the nerve to broach the second part of what he wanted to talk with Marigold about.  By this time she was a full 600 meters tall when he arrived.  To his astonishment, on seeing him and hearing his voice, she skyrocketed up another 200 meters.  There was no question about it, the surges were increasing rapidly.  On the one hand, he was afraid for what this might mean for both him and the woman he loved -- but he had never seen anyone more incredibly beautiful than Marigold, and every millimeter of size said how much she loved him.

Zeck rode his hover car up to Marigold’s shoulder.  It was now so vast that he could easily leave it there, and it was the safest way to be near his love.

Up close, Zeck could see the pores in Marigold’s skin.  He was beginning to be able to see what he thought were individual skin cells.

“How are you, Sunshine?” Zeck asked.

“Sunshine?” Marigold said.

“Sure,” said Zeck.  “My days are brighter with you than without you.  To me, you’re not just ‘sunny.’  It’s like a couple of songs from the 20th century my grandma loved -- “You Are the Sunshine of My Life,” and “You Are My Sunshine.”

Marigold’ eyes widened.  “I know those songs!” she said.

“How do you know them, Sunshine?” Zeck asked.

“They’re from Eight-Papa’s days as a standard, or close to them,” Marigold said.  “He plays that Stevie Wonderful stuff all the time.”

Zeck chuckled again.  “Well, as big as you are now, you’re my Sunshine Over the Mountains,” Zeck said.

As a tear started to run down Marigold’s cheek, Zeck heard a familiar rumbling.  “It’s about to be even further over them,” she said as she grew even larger.

Marigold took a moment to get her bearings.  “Oh, Zeck,” she said, “I’m over half a mile tall now.”

Zeck nodded.  “Well, I won’t promise things won’t get worse,” he said.  “Marigold, I want to talk to you about something.”

“Go ahead, Zeck,” she said.

“See, I as much as I love your growing, we’re starting to run the risk that your scale will reach a place where even someone with your abilities can’t survive.  I hate to say it, but we’ve got to stop your growth.”

“I agree,” Marigold said, “But not just because of that.  Zeck, I’m getting so big I’m afraid I might accidentally hurt you -- or worse, become so big that even my sensitivity will make me lose touch with you.  Without my sensitivity, you’d already be no more than a speck to me now.  I can’t bear the thought of losing you that way.”

“I think I know a way for us to stop it,” Zeck said.  “The same way your eight-papa and eight-mama did.”

“But that took a miracle,” Marigold said.

“Actually, it may with us,” Zeck said.  “But you’re so big I think we can actually make it work more easily than they could.”

“Zeck, you know how Eight-Mama’s growth was stopped,” Marigold said.

“Yes, I do,” Zeck said.

“You know I couldn’t agree to that without --”

Suddenly she realized that Zeck was down on one knee.  “Let’s save some time,” he said.  “Sunshine, will you marry me?”

Marigold managed to get out “Yes! Yes! Yes!” before she began to skyrocket up.  Zeck had to cover his ears because of the sound.

After she stopped growing, Marigold looked around to get her bearings.  “Oh, heavens,” she said.  “Zeck, I think I grew a quarter of a mile!”

“I’d say that’s pretty close,” Zeck said.

“Oh!  We’re going to need the permission of an el- --” Marigold said.  “Wait.  You’ve already asked Eight-Papa about this, haven’t you?”

Zeck nodded.  “We have his blessing.”

Marigold’s smile beamed.  “Oh, Zeck, I love you.”

“I love you, too, Mrs. Runyan,” he said.

“Mrs. … Runyan …” Marigold said, adding another 1,000-plus feet to her height.  “I love the thought, Mr. Runyan.”

“So I see,” said Zeck.

Of necessity, the wedding arrangements were made quickly.  Sarah and Wes were asked in their roles as elders and Marigold’s ancestors to officiate.  Sarah agreed to speak at the ceremony, but left the handling of the vows to Wes, since she still couldn’t hear Zeck.

Marigold’s burgeoning size made most traditional details of a wedding an impossibility.  The notion of a gown on a woman who was, by the time of the ceremony, a mile and a half tall and virtually guaranteed of growing even more enormous during the ceremony, was absurd on the face of it.  It took acres of fabric to simply cover her private parts in a way that gave her a chance of remaining covered throughout the ceremony.

The ceremony itself took place against a backdrop of the Rocky Mountains, the only way Marigold could make an entrance into the scene.  It was a worldwide news event, with members of the public from the standard population and virtually the entire giant community.

On laying eyes on Zeck, dressed up for the ceremony, the bride added a full half-mile to her height.  The vows brought another ¾ of a mile, and the pronouncement a full mile.  Each surge brought gasps from the crowd.  The bride’s impossible height had more than doubled during the ceremony.

Zeck had planned as far ahead as possible.  He had warned state and federal air travel officials and the military about Sarah’s unique problem, since he knew she would likely grow into air space lanes during the wedding, as she did.  He had used the blog income to make a land purchase in what would be, for him, an extremely inhospitable area, but one where Marigold could have some peace and room for what they both hoped would be her final round of growth.  He had even worked to provide a footpath for Marigold to reach their destination.  The site was one that was unlikely to result in spy satellites or aircraft flying overhead and taking pictures, but it wasn’t guaranteed they’d have privacy.  On Marigold’s scale, true privacy was virtually impossible.

Zeck finally met Marigold’s parents and grandparents. He was relieved to learn that they accepted him gladly.  Marigold’s mother, Erin Bloomberg, told him she had always believed, since Marigold started surging, that this might well happen; she just wanted her daughter to be happy, since this might be the heart of a third miracle in the giant faith.  She was pleased Marigold was happy, and commented on how much similarity she saw between Zeck and Seven-Papa Wes.

Once Marigold gave her love to family and friends, and Zeck did the same, he flew up to land his hovercar on Marigold’s shoulder.  He had an oxygen supply with him in case her growth took him high enough he would need it, and he had a Standard Sexual Center sensor suit with him.  He had cold weather gear, too, but hoped he wouldn’t need it.

Marigold was able now to span more than a mile with a single step.  While her proportional movement was slow, she was still able to cover miles in a minute, and nearly a thousand miles an hour.

Marigold walked north along Zeck’s path, following his guidance using a GPS device.  Soon they had reached the straits between Alaska and Russia, which Marigold was astonished to learn she could cross easily due to her sheer size.  In a couple of minutes, she had moved into the Eastern Hemisphere.

Zeck’s land was a massive tract in Siberia.  The setting would have been inhospitable at best to most other humans, and unreachable for any smaller giants, but it was a wonderland for Marigold.  On laying sight on her new home, sparkling with a blanket of snow lit by the sun, Marigold said, “Oh, Zeck!  It’s so beautiful!  This is our home?”

Zeck nodded.  “This is it,” he said.

Marigold was so happy it triggered yet another surge.  When she was done growing, she was a full five miles tall.

The wedding night was more chaste than either Marigold or Zeck really wanted, but each knew they had to be careful or Marigold might climb out of Earth’s atmosphere.  Still, Zeck needed to stay warm, and they wanted to do something.

Marigold lay on her back, her breast now each the size of mountains in their own right.  She directed Zeck to land the hover car on the tip of her left nipple, where her sensitivity would allow him to pleasure both himself and her.

From Zeck’s perspective, his up-close view of his bride now clearly encompassed pores and skin cells, but it didn’t matter.  Where he was to spend the night was warm with both his Sunshine’s love and body heat, and he reveled in the sheer softness of her breast and the firmness of her nipple as he felt it erect.  He realized at one point Marigold was growing, but he also knew that had probably been coming.  He knew vaginal sex might have produced even more growth.  At least this way her height was still in the single digits of miles.

It was only two days until the date Zeck and Marigold had calculated, the day Marigold was due to ovulate.  With Marigold lying on her back, Zeck landed the hover car and put on the sensor suit.  Wearing the suit was a risk, given Marigold’s sensitivity, but it was the only way Zeck could survive inside her for as long as he would need to be there.

The plan was simple enough.  It was pregnancy that stopped Sarah’s growth.  The hope was that pregnancy would stop Marigold’s too.  But, without the aid of the kind of miracle Wes and Sarah had experienced, Zeck and Marigold would have to accomplish the goal this way.

Knowing the hover car wouldn’t be able to function inside Marigold, Zeck climbed inside.  Once she felt him in her, she grew yet again. Based on the distances Zeck now saw, he guesstimated she was now about 10 miles tall.  That meant one more surge and the air Marigold would be breathing would be much thinner if she stood up.  Zeck hoped her body, which kept adapting as it grew, would be able to make that change if need be.  If it happened, she would literally be stratospheric.

The hope had been that the ovum would be in Marigold’s womb when Zeck arrived there, but there was no sign of it.  Still, he knew that was a possibility.  He had brought a device some scientists had rigged to track which of Marigold’s fallopian tubes the egg cell would come from; they were happy to put it together, given the notoriety and income its success would bring their lab.

From Zeck’s perspective, the egg was traveling down the tube on his right; it would actually be on Marigold’s left.  He made his way to it, traveling about a mile between swimming and hiking. 

Soon Zeck was at the entrance to the tube.  He went inside only a short distance.  Going too far in would be useless; the egg had to be fertilized while it was inside Marigold’s womb, or at least very close to it, so it would embed in a viable place.

After a wait of an hour, Zeck saw it; a sphere a meter across moving down the tube.  He positioned himself to be ready when it passed, then jumped on the ovum.  In the meantime, his member had been released from the suit; at the very thought of where he was and what he was doing, and what it would mean for his Sunshine’s future, it quickly swelled.

As he landed atop the egg, he realized that it and his surroundings were enlarging yet again.  The ovum was now a meter and a half across; that meant Marigold was now about 15 miles tall, with her height extending about four miles in to the stratosphere when she stood up.  Zeck realized her sensitivity had let her know where in the process he was; she knew he was about to father their child, they hoped the first of many.  That had filled her colossal heart with even more pleasure, and triggered the latest -- and Zeck hoped last -- surge.

Holding the warm ovum, Zeck felt his own love for Marigold and for the child he hoped this egg would become swelling, and felt it translate into another kind of growth.  The pressure of the situation could have been counterproductive, but Zeck hoped and prayed he would (the writer in him chuckled at his own pun) be able to come through.

Zeck felt a surge of a more traditional kind through his entire body.  He hoped he was right, that his sperm would be able to get through into the super-sized egg and fertilize it.  He knew it might not work, that the egg cell wall might be too tough, but it was all he had.

Then, as his body relaxed, Zeck gasped.  He could see sperm getting through the cell wall.  It was working!  Despite everything that said it shouldn’t, couldn’t work, it was working!

Then Zeck realized the cell -- and his surroundings -- were growing again.  Marigold had felt him come!  It had triggered yet another surge!

Panic-stricken, Zeck looked at the egg.  The sperm was still making its way through the now-even-thicker cell wall.  It hadn’t fertilized the egg yet.  That was why Marigold was still growing … or, at least, he hoped that was why.

Zeck watched in wonder as the sperm continued their journey.  He saw them get inside the cell wall, saw them combine … and realized the egg itself was starting to divide.  The egg had divided.  It appeared two sperm had gotten through, and somehow the egg had divided, maybe due to its sheer size.  Marigold might have more than one child -- if this ended as he hoped.

First, though, Zeck had to make sure at least one of the eggs implanted.  Without that, all of this was for nothing.

As best he could, Zeck worked to put some spin on one of the eggs.  It made its way to the uterine wall.  He had to dive off to keep from being pinned between the egg and the wall, but it landed and attached.

Zeck started the hours-long journey back out of Marigold’s now much-bigger body.  He turned as he prepared to exit her uterus. The other egg also had embedded.  Zeck smiled, and tears ran down his cheeks.  He had gotten to see his first two children conceived.

Once he was finally out, Zeck got out of the sensor suit, now coated in a heavy layer of Marigold’s natural lubricants.  He clambered into the hover car.  After a moment to pull himself together, Zeck piloted the hover car up to Marigold, floating it above her face.

“Sunshine!” Zeck shouted.  “Sunshine!  We did it!”

Marigold looked at him and began to sob.  “Darling, I … I can’t hear you,” his wife said.  “You’re too small.  Try getting by my ear.  I can still see you.  Maybe I can hear you there.”

Zeck knew his expression reflected the shock he felt, but he couldn’t help it.  He landed it just inside her left ear.  “Can you hear me here?” he shouted.

“Yes,” Marigold whispered.  He realized why she was whispering when he felt her voice carry through her body by bone conduction.  Her skull was close enough to let the noise travel that way.

“We did it, Sunshine,” Zeck said.  “You’re pregnant.  And not just with one baby.  I saw them implant.  We’re having twins!”

Zeck felt the massive sobs from Marigold.  “Oh, Zeck!” she said.  “I’m going to be the mama of your children!”

“Yes, my love,” he said.

Then he felt Marigold’s whole upper body move as she gasped.  “Zeck!” she said.  “I’m … I’m so happy -- but I’m not growing!  It worked!  It worked!”

Both of them began to sob.  “Yes,” Zeck said.  "It worked.  Marigold, would you mind if I sleep here?  I’m pretty exhausted, and I want you to be able to hear me.”

Zeck felt Marigold’s jaw muscles move; she was smiling.  “You’re fine there, Dearest,” she said.  “Besides, it’s no wonder you’re tired.  You gave your all in there; and I love that I could tell.  And Zeck, it worked!”

Yeah, thought Zeck.  Now I just hope the next phase works as well.

The next morning, Zeck used his hover car ro measure Marigold’s length.  She was so big he had to use the onboard GPS device to calculate her distance while she lay on the ground.  He whistled when he saw the number, then flew his hover car into Marigold’s ear.

“Twenty-two-point-two miles,” Zeck said.  “Marigold, you’re 22.2 miles tall.”

Marigold took a deep breath, sending the mountains that were her breasts a full mile higher into the air momentarily.  “Well, at least I’ve stopped growing,” she said.  “And I can still see you and still hear you; just not at the same time.”

“Hang in there, m’love,” Zeck said.  “It’ll get better.”

Being newlyweds, and with the threat of more growth surges now removed, Zeck used the sensor suit several times a day.  He loved giving Marigold the pleasure, and loved that she could tell when he had come inside her, even with their scal difference.

Zeck also frequently checked on the progress of the children.  He saw them grow first from balls of cells into tubes, and then into beings the shape of babies, already many times bigger than him, inside their amniotic sacs.

But the most troubling issue in the early days of the Runyans’ marriage was when Marigold said eve3ry day she was full and never needed to eat, drink or excrete.  Zeck knew it might be years or even decades between when she would need to eat a meal, but he still felt it should be checked out.  With renowned biologists and medical doctors the world over wanting to examine her, that made finding someone to check her out easy.

Then came the news.  Marigold’s body had changed how it processed food as one of its last adaptations to her size.  She was so massive her body now absorbed solar energy, kinetic energy from wind and precipitation, and even lightning to feed her.  After a lightning strike, Marigold felt stuffed, as if she’d eaten a feast.  She no longer needed to eat.

What concerned Zeck was whether Marigold would produce milk.  If the children fed the way she did, she wouldn’t produce the high-growth milk of her people, and that was needed for the last phase of his plan to succeed.  Without it, the best he could hope was far less than what he had planned.

With little to do, and Marigold basking in whatever the elements provided as she fed during the day, Zeck spent his time between her internal sex organs and her breasts.  She reveled in the fact that she could still feel her husband, and enjoyed every moment.

Then, one day, as Zeck was crossing Marigold’s left nipple, he realized his foot was wet.  He looked down and saw a pale white liquid was around his foot.  He reached down and dipped a finger in it.  Bringing his finger to his lips, he tasted it.  It was sweet.  Suddenly he realized what it was from the descriptions he’d read.

Zeck dashed to his hover car and flew into Marigold’s ear.  “Sunshine!” he shouted.  “You’re producing colustrum!  You’re lactating!  You’re lactating!”

“You sound surprised,” Marigold whispered.  It was the first time Zeck realized that it hadn’t occurred to his bride that she wouldn’t be nursing her babies.

“Marigold,” he said, “I want to follow in Wes’ footsteps.  I want to use your milk to help me grow.”

“What? “

“Marigold, with the relatively tiny size of giant babies, you need help when they’re born.  But our children will be bigger than their grandparents on your side when they’re born, and you’re having twins.  You’re going to need help.”

“But, Zeck, you’ll be giving up --”

“Nothing,” Zeck said.  “I’ll be giving up nothing to claim the life I want to live.  I’ll be getting everything, not giving up anything.”

He could feel Marigold’s jaw muscles shift into a smile.  “But giant men get these hugely muscled bodies,” she said.  “You’re so cute like you are.  Still, I can’t wait for you to be bigger, I have to admit.  Go for it darling.”

“Looks like I’m going to be closer to my Sunshine,” Zeck said as he got in his hover car for what would turn out to be his last ride.

Zeck got out of the hover car and got down on his knees  He began to drink deeply from the sweet colustrum.  He did so until he was full and almost immediately passed out.

Zeck didn’t know how much longer it was when he came too.  He heard Marigold’s voice.  “Zeck, I see you stirring.  Are you all right love?”

Not fully awake, Zeck answered without thinking, “I’m fine,”

He felt Marigold’s mighty breasts heave.  “Zeck, I can  hear you again!” she said.  “You’re big enough now that I can hear you!”

Zeck looked around him, seeking to get his bearings.  Marigold’s erect nipple was still massive to him, but seemed much smaller than it had earlier.  Then he found his hover car, and picked it up in one of his hands.

“Wow!” Zeck said.  “It’s really working, isn’t it?”

Marigold nodded.  “But not quite like other giantess’ milk,” she said.  “You still have that leanly muscled, sexy body I fell in love with.  Although I do see one other benefit.”

“What’s that?” Zeck asked.

Marigold giggled as she pointed to what Zeck took to be his crotch.  “Your shtucka seems to be growing faster than the rest of you -- which could prove to be very interesting.”

Zeck looked down and realized that his manhood was definitely larger at rest than before.  “Oh, my,” he said.

Marigold giggled.  “You know, Zeck, it’s important to drink from both breasts to keep the milk flowing.”

“It’ll take me a little while to get over there, since the hover car’s too small now and you’re still so much bigger than me,” Zeck said.  “But we can’t have things getting out of balance, can we?”  He started the climb down Marigold’s left breast in order to move to her right.

“Twenty-Mama Marigold!” came the familiar voice.

Marigold turned from the snow sculpture she had been making.  “Sunflower!” Marigold shouted.  “How are you, Twenty-Daughter?”

“Fine,” Sunflower said.  “Guess what, Twenty-Mama.  I’m off food now!”

“Well, that is a rite of passage,” Marigold said.

The eldest of the Eastern giantesses looked over her twenty-daughter.  Sunflower had reached about 11 miles tall, which was likely nearly her full height.  She was naked, as all the Eastern giants were; clothing simply wasn’t practical on this scale, and they had no need for it.  In fact, clothing blocked feeding, since it intercepted solar rays and kinetic energy from wind and rain.

But Marigold also saw the Sunflower had clearly developed both pubic hair and the curves of feminine maturity.  Those usually coincided with being able to move off of mother’s milk among Eastern giantesses, with puberty also signaling the end of nursing for their males.

“Where’s Twenty-Papa Zeck?” Sunflower asked.

“He’s taken a walk to western Europe,” Marigold said.  “He said he wanted to see some family history.”

“That would have been hard when more people still lived there,” Sunflower said.

Marigold nodded.  She knew that the energy and atmospheric science from studying her and Zeck, combined with the food science from the Western giants, had led to most standards leaving Earth for colonies as their populations kept increasing.  By now, humans lived on Mercury, Venus and Mars, all in colonies that had Earth-like conditions.  While there were still large populations of standards in Australia and the southern parts of South America and Africa, few lived on the rest of the planet.

Now the northern hemisphere of the Earth was populated almost entirely by giants, as were the northern parts of the southern hemisphere.  It was impractical for giants to make space trips, and it also just didn’t seem to be needed.  They lived so imply, and were, in some sense, so terrestrial that it made sense for them to stay put.

Marigold chuckled as she watched Sunflower blowing low clouds around.  It was a fun pastime, especially for the younger giants.  “Remember, Flower, we don’t want to put too much moisture into them,” she said.  “The Western giants don’t need flooding.

“And, speaking of the Western giants, your Twenty-Eight-Mama and Papa, Sarah and Wes, are coming over today.  Your Five-Mama Martha is picking them up for the trip.”

“Oh! That’s right!” said Sunflower.  She ran over and hugged Marigold.  “Happy 500th birthday, Twenty-Mama!”

Marigold smiled down.  “Thank you, Sweetie,” she said.  Marigold expected no gifts except for hugs and visits.  On their scale, the Eastern giants had almost no use at all for possessions, and simply enjoyed living and feeding off what God provided in nature.

Sunflower eventually broke the hug.  “Twenty-Mama, Twenty-Eight-Papa Wes looks so old, but he’s only 750,” she said.

Marigold nodded.  “Physically, he’s what standards call middle-aged,” she said.  “The smaller giants in the west age much faster than we do.  In the last 500 years, even Twenty-Eight-Mama Sarah has aged about five years for standards, where we haven’t even aged six months.”

“How long will we live?” Sunflower asked.

Marigold smiled.  “Maybe to the end of the Earth,” she said.

“But why aren’t I as big as my Mama, and her not as tall as hers?” Sunflower asked.

“I don’t really know,” Marigold said.  “Just as each generation of Western giants is getting taller, each of Eastern giants is getting shorter.  Your Nineteen-Mama Erin, my firstborn, was a little bit shorter than me, and her twin sister, Sarah, was the same height.  And the tallest Eastern giants are up to about 1,500 feet now, about 2 1/2 times what they were when I lived among them.  But now there are enough men here who are unrelated or distantly related for you to find a husband here, if you want, instead of going to the West and searching there.”

Sunflower blushed.  “Yeah,” she said.  “A couple of boys have already started flirting with me.”

“I’m not surprised,” Marigold said.

“Oh, look!” said Sunflower.  “Here comes Twenty-Papa Zeck!”

Marigold ran over to her husband as he stepped over a few hills.  Zeck’s growth about 480 years ago had brought him up to breast high on her, a situation both of them relished.

Zeck held out a hand to Marigold.  “Happy birthday, Sunshine,” he said.

Marigold looked down.  In his hand was a castle, carefully dug up and carried, intact, to this site.

“It’s one of the castles the Clan Bell had in the Scotland-England border areas,” he said.  I had to dig out the ruins, and then brought it here.  That’s your bloodline through your Eight-Papa.”

Tears welled in Marigold’s eyes.  “It’s beautiful,” she said.  “Thank you!  And he’ll love seeing it while he’s here, too.”

“I love you, Sunshine,” Zeck said.

“I love you, too,” Marigold said, as she leaned down to kiss him.

Seeing Zeck’s reaction to the kiss, Sunflower giggled.  “I think I’ll check back later,” she said.  “You two need some time alone.”  She left her twenty-parents to their eternal love.

THE END