Page 43 of My Tiny Giant
They were talking about him, Agan realized. Had the experiment to shrink him been planned? The thought made him momentarily forget about the bitter cold that snuck under his short fur, chilling his skin.
His well-respected general appeared to not only know about the illegal work of the corrupt professor, he'd funded it. With Ravil money.
Afraid to miss a single word, Agan snuck a little closer to the two men. The professor had obviously chosen this outdoor space for this meeting for a reason. There were no flowerpots anywhere on the winter patio, no furniture of any sort to hide behind. Agan could only count on the darkness of the night and his puny size to remain undetected.
“I hired you to create an efficient weapon against our enemies!” the general snarled. “Something that would annihilate fescods and yirzi on sight. Instead, you shrank one of my best soldiers.”
“The initial idea was to shrink your enemies to an infinitely small size which would practically eliminate them from existence.” The professor kept his voice even. However, he menacingly tilted his horns the general’s way, and his arrow-tipped tail twitched with irritation. “The rays I’ve discovered, however, reflect off the fescod skin. Sadly, they didn’t work well on yirzi , either. The effects didn’t last long—the subjects returned to their initial size within seconds.” He shrugged. “I needed to test them on a different species.”
“Or maybe you needed to create an entirely different weapon, then?” the general growled with menace. “You never asked for my permission to conduct experiments on Ravils.”
“Would you have given it to me if I asked?”
“Of course not! I pay you to find a way to help Ravils, not to shrink them.”
“Scientific greatness often comes with sacrifices.” The professor dismissively waved his hand in the air. “Ravils turned out to be the perfect candidates. That experiment proved I’m on the right track with my research. The process still needs a little tweaking, of course. I’m confident I can figure out what adjustments are necessary to make the rays work on yirzi and maybe even on fescods . Unfortunately, my subject escaped before I had the chance to properly evaluate the results. I need him back.”
“By the Abyss of Krokkan!” the general roared. “You have to return my warrior to his regular size.”
Hope warred with concern in Agan. The last thing he wanted was to have the crooked professor experimenting on him again. Yet the Voranian was probably the one most capable of reversing this. If it was at all possible...
“I’m afraid I don’t know how to do that,” the professor declared, crushing Agan’s budding hope before it even had the chance to take root. “The focus of my research has been shrinking a living organism. I have no reverse process.”
The general fisted his hands at his sides.
“Our agreement was that you would experiment on fescods —our direct enemies. You took it upon yourself to switch the subjects. I’ve also heard you’ve hired a bunch of yirzi behind my back.”
“I needed some help around the lab.” The professor shrugged. “Besides, I’ve never asked for your input on how to run my research. I promised results, and I’ve delivered.”
“This was not what we agreed on!” The general moved on the professor, who took a wide stance, firmly planting his hooves into the ground. “You were never supposed to touch my people. You need to figure out how to turn my warrior back to the way he was. Now!” the general roared at the top of his lungs.
The professor nervously jerked his head back, glancing over his shoulder into the corridor behind the glass. “Demanding I increase someone’s size is a significant alteration of our contract terms, General.”
The Ravil grabbed the Voranian by the throat, making him choke on whatever he was going to say next. “I said you’ll have to bring my lieutenant back to his normal size!”
Gasping for air, the professor reached back and swiped aside the long tails of his dress coat. The handle of the laser gun stuffed under his belt came into view.
“To reverse the experiment,” he croaked against the general’s grip on his throat, “I would still need your warrior back, wouldn’t I?”
The general frowned, considering his words.
“Fine.” He released his hold, and the professor quickly moved the coat back over the gun under his belt, concealing the weapon. “You will have to come back to Tragul with us to continue your work. I’ve paid you way too much money for you to abandon your research half-way through.”
“Sure,” the professor agreed way too quickly. “I’m so close now, I’d hate leaving things unfinished.”
“We’re leaving for Tragul tomorrow morning,” General Trulgadi gritted through his teeth. “Get ready.”
“Absolutely, General,” the professor muttered in a much more agreeable tone of voice than before. “Now if you’ll excuse me,” he slid the glass door open for the general to leave, “I have a couple of very important guests to greet. The AI will show you the best way to get out of here undetected.”
“Tomorrow morning.” General Trulgadi stomped out of the patio, the ends of his cloak whipping against the door frame.
“Tragul? As if!” the professor muttered the moment the door closed behind the general. “I’ve had enough of that run-down planet with its dirt-poor population.”
Professor Voltuds paced the patio as Agan quietly creeped along the wall toward the door. The entire conversation between the professor and the general had been recorded. His report as eyewitness would provide added evidence. His job here was done. Now, he needed to find a way to sneak back inside and find Emma.
“There are some much better-paying buyers for my work in this Galaxy,” the professor continued mumbling. He stopped in his tracks abruptly, as if remembering something. “The Governor must be here by now—”
His gaze suddenly fell on Agan, making him freeze in his advancement to the door.