“I HATE WAR, SIR,” she said, “but I hate the Nazis even more.”
“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” the doctor replied, “I think we’ll get on like jelly and jam.”
He was leading her through the dimly lit passageways of an underground laboratory, and she went through what had become her near-automatic process of committing everything she saw to memory while simultaneously locking it away in a mental vault.
They didn’t call her “Lock-Away” Libby for nothing.
As she took in the sights, rooms with strange-looking chambers, buzzing equipment, and the usual Bela Lugosi blend of test tubes and strangely-colored chemicals, she barely registered the figure standing in their way until she nearly barreled right into him. Not that she’d have done much damage; she was a slight 5’4, and the man who had just rounded the corner up ahead was around 6’5, by her guess, and looked like he could give Charles Atlas a run for his money.
“Excuse me, miss,” he said, using those big, to-die-for arms of his to stop her before she could careen right into that barrel chest (not that she’d have minded!).
“Roger, this is our liaison from DC,” said Doctor Fleming. “Private Roger Stevenson, meet Miss Libby Lane.”
The man put out a hand and she felt like her heart was going to somersault as it covered hers.
“That’s an interesting name, Miss Lane,” his voice was smooth as silk and deep as the deep blue sea.
“I know, it sounds like a character from the funny papers,” she babbled, “my folks have always had interesting taste, I guess.”
“Good taste. It suits you.”
Be still my beating heart.
“Roger is actually why you’re here. But let’s get on to the lab, and I’ll brief you; time is of the essence. Roger, go get prepped with Doctor Crowley, and meet Miss Lane and I there in twenty minutes.”
“Sure thing, Doc,” the man’s smile put Clark Gable to shame, “and nice meeting you, Miss Lane.”
She nodded, too gaga to think of anything suitably charming to add and certain she’d only make more of a fool of herself if she tried.
A moment later her reputation as “Lock-Away” Libby was truly put to the test for the first time since the war began: how could she keep a sight like this all to herself?
“The lab” looked less like any lab she’d ever seen and next to it those mad scientists’ outfits she’d passed on the way here looked like somebody’s kid brother’s chemistry set. This place was straight out of a movie. One in particular came to mind, and her usual skill for being tight-lipped outright slipped.
“Doc, whaddya got planned here, anyhow? King Kong?!”
Behind a pane of very thick glass was a chamber bigger than a football field, more like a hangar, and in the center was a huge slab with what appeared to be four manacles. It was either fit for the King of Skull Island or ol’ bolt-neck-Boris Karloff after he’d eaten a can of extra-strong spinach.
“This is not Hollywood magic, Miss Lane,” the Doctor assured her in that genteel British accent, “this is how we end the conflict in Europe.”
“This ain’t exactly professional to say, but...I’ve gotta know the story here!”
“You and the rest of the world, I’m afraid. That’s why we’ve taken such extreme precautions, even by our usual standards. You’re the last link in the chain. The actual papers containing the processes needed to perform this operation are in a secure location; even we don’t know it, and it’s got a Dead Man’s Switch; if not found by a certain date, the papers will be destroyed by a timed explosive.”
Libby whistled.
“Doctor Crowley and I, and our other associate, Doctor Dahl, only know single parts of the process, building on the work of a Japanese scientist, Doctor Sekizawa who defected. Between the three of us, we only have the knowledge to complete the final phase.”
“So...what’s the chamber for?”
“Project Colossus is exactly what it sounds like,” he said, “we’re going to increase Stevenson’s height to 30 feet, fortify his resistance to pain and injury, and amplify his strength to...well, let’s put it this way: it’d make your King Kong blush.”
Kong won’t be the only one blushing!
“No one person has been privy to each stage of the process since it was put into practice, to ensure no one has gathered information on how to replicate it. This is the final test, and it is not a moment too soon. We have information the Nazis may be advancing on this area, arriving in one to two days. It’s now or never. But if this goes right, those Panzers are about to get crushed like tinker-toys under the heel of the biggest damn soldier since Goliath. If we fail, we blow up the whole lab; God help us if those bastards try to make their own ubermensch using this technology, and God knows how berserk they’ll go realizing it might be used on someone who doesn’t fit their precious idea of perfection.”
The doctor made his way over to the console just below the glass barrier.
“Injections are given inside the chamber which are then supplemented by rays emitted from a device built into the ceiling panels,” he indicated the corresponding dials and buttons, “the resulting reaction causes the change. We can also open the ceiling to let our subject out of the base, like so. The red switch here sets off a two minute timed explosive which will send this whole place to Kingdom Come. Got all that?”
Libby nodded.
“Am I to assume I’m on the kill switch,” she said, “if Adolph’s goons arrive before showtime?”
“Exactly. You’re also in charge of this,” he indicated a briefcase kept behind a locked cabinet. “It’s our one spare vial of the serum. The ceiling panel devices affect inanimate objects without issue, but a chemical injection is needed to safely change the size of a living creature. Now, just wait here and keep an eye on things; if there’s trouble, an alarm will sound in this room; throw the kill switch and run.”
“Oh,” he added, moving back to the console, “before I forget.” He adjusted a dial on the machine, which began to whirr. Before her eyes, Libby watched as the Frankenstein-slab in the chamber shrank to accommodate a man of Stevenson’s height.
This is some kettle of fish…
Libby’s mind did what it did best: it locked away most of the details of what she’d just heard, compartmentalizing it to make it easier to process later. But one thought did stay at the forefront of her mind: imagining that soldier, Stevenson, as a 30 foot tall giant.
What a humdinger of an image! What a sight! What a dish! If this goes off as planned...I’ll get to see Nazis clobbered by a fella bigger and more kingly than King Kong and more gorgeous than Gary Cooper! And wait’ll Harry and the boys back home get my report, they’re gonna flip!
The sound of a low-pitched wail derailed her train of thought before it had barely left the station.
Crimeny! The alarm!
She rushed to the hallway, hoping the Doc and Stevenson were on their way, but instead saw a bunch of goose-stepping, heil-happy hooligans making their way right for her!
Not wasting a moment, she got the heavy-duty door shut and locked tight, but chances were that if they’d busted in here already, they had the firepower to take down this door, too.
Libby took a deep breath and let her eyes rest on the kill switch.
“It’s the only way to keep this out of their hands...” she whispered to herself. Knowing there wasn’t any time to lose, she flipped up the plastic guard over the red button, took a deep breath, and...
Wait! You nincompoop! Did you get to where you are by just giving up? Don’t throw in the towel like some palooka until you’ve thrown the last punch ya got!
Her eyes moved to the briefcase. This was no time for “Lock-Away” Libby. The vault in her mind opened wide.
Outside the door, charges were being set, and storm troopers had backed away, waiting for it to blow.
Inside, Libby had already done her work. She only had to wait for two things, the first of which had already begun as a strange, warm, tingling feeling overcame her.
The second, of course, was for the kill switch to do its job.
* * *
“You were supposed to be watching the door! Don’t tell me you were off sneaking chocolate again!” Crowley squalled.
Doctor Dahl groaned.
“Can we have this discussion another time?” asked Crowley, as the SS officers forced them outside the above-ground entrance to the base.
“And you! You and your strange 'magic' rituals! What a waste of time!”
“You’re the one always moaning about how you should’ve gone into espionage, Fleming!” Dahl cut in. “Never paying any damn attention!”
“Sei ruhig!” the officer barked. “Nothing you say makes any difference. We know you’re working on a secret weapon, and soon, it shall be ours, for the glory of the Reich!”
The other soldiers surrounding them joined him in the heil. Stevenson spit on him, and was knocked to the ground for it.
“You aren’t going to learn any more about what’s in that base!” Stevenson growled through gritted teeth.
“Soon, we will know everything.”
An explosion rocked the field, and the four prisoners hung their heads in mourning, knowing that Libby Lane had just given her life to protect the free world.
At least, that’s what they thought, until her voice boomed out across the field, echoing over the approaching Panzer division like she was speaking through the world’s biggest bullhorn.
“ADOLPH FORGOT TO PICK UP HIS TOYS.”
The officer froze.
“Ich weiß...nichts.”
“I’LL MAKE SURE TO CLEAN UP HIS MESS!”
Those once tiny, manicured hands were picking up tanks and tearing them apart like they were made of tin. Well-heeled boots ground military vehicles into scrap, their swastikas bent permanently out of shape. The few foot soldiers fool enough to face down the giantess in the blue, standard issue uniform got flicked away like the fleas they were, and not a fired shot even registered off the steel of her skin.
The four prisoners of war suddenly found themselves freed, as their captors threw down their guns and surrendered to the towering titan in Allied colors.
“Quick thinking, Lane!” Fleming piped up.
“I’ll bet Hitler will hide in a hole in the ground when he hears you coming!” added Crowley.
“SORRY I STOLE YOUR THUNDER, ROGER,” she said louder than she’d meant.
Jeez, this guy’s cute even at doll-sized, she thought.
“Don’t mention it,” said Private Stevenson, “it suits you.”
Why be a shrinking violet now? Might as well go for it.
She picked him up, planted a kiss on him, and saluted the “toy” soldier.
“First we take Berlin, and then back to Manhattan,” she said, lowering her voice for Roger’s sake, “and on to DC. Because the fight doesn’t end here. We’ve got to fight this war at home, too, and anywhere else where this kind of poison is choking the life out of a community. Whether it’s a crooked cop hassling somebody because of the color of their skin, or some rich pencil-pusher who punishes the weakest folks’ through their wallets while hiding behind a desk and a mask of decency, it’s up to every one of us to root out bigotry and fascism everywhere it rears its ugly head. And that fight takes all of us; even a giant gal can’t do it alone!”
“You said it, Libby!” said Doctor Fleming.
“Libby doesn’t seem to suit a gal who’s 30 feet tall,” Roger mused. “How about “Lady Liberty?”
“I like the sound of that, Rog,” the giantess replied, “and I think this is the beginning of something beautiful.”
THE END…?