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I was waiting at the bar when Dover came in. As before, I had drinks waiting. He downed his and signaled for another.

"That good?" I asked.

"Verne, you have no idea. None. Not even for fun." He downed the second drink as quickly as the first. I sipped at mine.

"So," I said, pushing the popcorn over towards my friend, "the CDC has no information on the Island of Skull Mountain?"

"Oh, we have it. You just don't want it. Seriously." He leaned over the table and tapped his stubby fingers on my shirt. "Do. Not. Go. To. Skull Island." He leaned back and signaled the waitress again. "Whoever is hiring you to outfit an expedition, tell them to stuff it."

"Wish I could," I said, sincerely. "But she's my sister. Can't really say no to Julie."

"Well, what does the State Department say?" I watched my friend eye the waitress as she replaced his drink and the snack bowl. He usually was more subtle. She didn't seem to care, just smiled and walked off.

"They won't say who the US recognizes as owning the place. And they don't have recommended inoculations for travel. No one will grant a VISA to visit, or deny permission. It's like a cousin you run into at a porn store: everyone knows he's there, but no one waves or makes eye contact."

He snorted at the image. Dover had worked his way through grad school at an adult bookstore and had some fantastic tales to tell. He shared a few, most of them ones I'd heard before. But it passed the time.

A couple hours later, my friend was nearly paralytic. It was always easy to drink Dover under the table. And the chemicals I'd added to his first drink didn't hurt. So I stretched him across the table, checked his pulse, and started the tape player.

"So, Dover, you looked into the Island of Skull Mountain for me?"

"Yeah, Verne" he slurred. "Downwanna go theer."

"Oh, I don't," I assured him. "You talked me out of it. But, just for the sake of argument, if YOU were going, what shots would you take before you left the US of A?"

"Well, any vaccination with 'pan' in the name. Then cholera; hepatitis A, B and C; malaria; measles C; meningococcal disease; rabies, tetanus, diphtheria, dysentery...."

Twenty minutes later, I poured him into a taxi, paid the driver and called my sister. "Hey, Jules!"

"Julie," she insisted. She hated our father and the name he'd given her.

"Whoops. I'm drunk. You know I never call you that unless-"

"You called, Duke?" she pointed out.

"My CDC guy came through. I got a list. Hows bout you?"

"My merchant marine came through, too. We have a ship."

----

A hundred years after a giant primate proved that the Empire State Building was poisonous (Seriously. One drop'll kill you!), people were largely convinced it was a hoax.

Sure, his skull was at the Smithsonian, biological samples were in every major biomedical facility, and pictures were all over the world. But the public was kind of soured on the whole 'giant animal' thing.

Professor Challenger had found a plateau of dinosaurs up the Amazon, driving the public to a frenzy of anticipation...until he revealed that Eoraptor. For a media circus built around a T-Rex in the ads, a dachshund-sized lizard was quite the let-down.

No one wanted to hear that MOST dinosaurs, and all the ones on the Plateau, were smaller than a bear. It was a great find scientifically, but not popularly.

I really didn't care. Public opinion impacted my career in biochemistry little if at all. But my sister felt that our futures could be made if we found another giant ape.

Second best, figure out how he got so big. "We find the royal jelly," she would mutter, "and the world's our oyster."

"Unless the metaphor police find you and beat you to within a cliché of your life."

"Shut up." So she had equipped an expedition with the proceeds from her patents in force fields. I was hired as the biochemist, naturally enough. She was in charge, and her mercenary friend, Roland Tembo, selected the rest of the crew.

We had an old Navy amphibious attack craft for our use. It had plenty of room for...anything we might bring back.

----

Tembo was on the weatherdeck with me when we came into view of the Island of Skull Mountain.

"Russian," he said.

"Are you sharing personal information with me, Roland?" He pointed off to one side of the ship. There's probably a way to describe the exact direction, ghast abeam of the forward yaw-sail or something. I don't know and you probably don't care. I saw a flash, sunlight off of a wet piece of metal.

"You identified a submarine by the periscope?" I asked. He nodded. "Are there more?"

"Probably," he spat. "Every nation in the world's afraid someone's going to bring another Kong off of the Island."

"Are they going to stop us?" Then, for the first time since I'd met him, Tembo looked me right in the eye.

"Not on the way in," he said.

----

The decrepit dock had seen better days. The captain decided to anchor in the middle of the harbor and use the amphibs. Julie didn't argue. She hired experts, then listened to them.

No one greeted us when we landed. Guards spread out while we offloaded the Hummers, then returned to board either the cars or the launches. The boats left while we drove off inland.

The 'Skull Experience' had gone downhill since Carl Denham organized the famous tours. Litter was visible in every direction, but none of the monstrous animals or the natives was in sight.

The central village where all tours started was nearly abandoned.

Roland Tembo barked some orders as we pulled up in the central plaza. People peeled off in all directions. Then some of the staggered back. From the bodies.

-----

"I think it was a plague," I said as I entered the tent. Everyone's eyes widened. I held up my hands, palm out. "Don't worry, not contagious, not now. From what I can tell, something was released that spread through the living, and died with them."

"Released," Tembo said.

"Yes." I waved my analyzer. "I found some evidence of genetic tampering. This was a biological attack, keyed to the gene pool of the natives."

"We're leaving," Roland said, shooting to his feet. Julie looked back and forth. I was nodding.

"No, wait," she cried. "We just got here! We haven't even-"

"Someone," Temno said, his voice low, "committed genocide here, probably to get control of the Island. They're not going to play nice if they find us fucking with their schedule." I wasn't surprised that Roland knew or used the word, just that he'd finally used it where Julie could hear.

The profanity acted as a mallet to drive home his message. We started packing.

Just before driving off, one of the perimeter guards shouted, "Medic." As one of the closest things we had to a doctor, I tagged along behind the EMT.

One villager lived. He wheezed and teetered, his body was covered with boils and everyone was keeping their distance. "He just came outta nowhere," one man was saying.

I rushed to his side and took his elbow as gently as possible. I wasn't afraid of the disease, I wasn't in the target range. The EMT flinched, but didn't run. He passed me some antibiotics and painkillers and we got the man as comfortable as possible.

When he could breathe evenly, he looked up at the circle of faces. "Cabooza," he said. I gazed at the faces myself, but no one seemed to understand. He repeated it, then a rush of words in his only tongue.

"Most of the villagers spoke English," Roland explained. Apologized. "Didn't think we'd need a translator, or we could hire one here." Jules waved away his statement.

"Can we help him?" she asked.

"I... We can ease his passage," I said. "But he's dead." People ran up with inflatable cushions from the camp. We stretched him out. Well, I did, I was the only one touching him. And though I knew in my heart that I was safe, no one else was quite convinced of the DNA evidence.

When he was laid out, he grabbed my hand. I looked into his eyes, trying to make one last human contact with the poor soul before his end.

He smiled at me...and barfed in my face. Great huge slog of purplish mass and fluid covered me. People rushed back as I tried hard to breathe. Then the bastard shuddered and died.

"Yeah, you'd better run," I whispered, wiping my eyes.

-----

The trip back to the ship was interesting. Roland got more and more upset as time went on and sunset approached. He started interrupting packing efforts to say, "Leave it behind. Get in the boat."

Finally we were practically racing down the track. I was alone in the back of one car, despite having stripped to the skin to wash with our entire store of disinfectant. No one wanted to be near me. Hell, I didn't want to be near me.

Julie smiled back from the front seat every so often. I gave her a thumbs up when she did. When she wasn't looking, I checked my temperature, respiration, pulse. I seemed okay. So far.

Helicopters of three different makes crossed over the boats as we made the crossing. They didn't seem to see anything of interest, and left us alone.

The captain already had the engines turning when we floated into the wet-deck. Before the water gate was fully lifted, we were underway. Roland nodded and started directing a rapid stow-for-sea in the boat bay.

I had no skills there, or any intention of doing anything but sleep off a major case of nerves. My roommate, though, was at the top of the ladder.

Karsen, the navigator, had a duffel and a pillow. "We heard of your difficulties," he said. "And it was decided that you might be more comfortable someplace-"

"Out of your cabin?" I finished. "Not a problem, Karsen. I could sleep in a cargo bay right now."

"That was about the best choice," he answered, smiling when it was clear I wasn't going to pitch a fit.

They'd made up a pretty comfortable nest for me in the forward weapons bay. An inflatable raft was lashed into place, with several blankets. It was comfortably cool, with plenty of layers to burrow into. Karsen handed me a large flashlight and walked out. I barely heard the door close behind him before I was asleep.

A strange popping sound woke me. I sat up, feeling around in the darkness for the flashlight. I didn't find it right away. It took a while for me to figure out where I was.

The life raft I'd been sleeping in had been replaced with a much smaller craft. That was what had popped, it was about the size of my rib cage. How had they gotten me off of the ten-man raft and onto a kiddie toy?

And why?

Before I could do anything, though, I was overcome by a throbbing headache. I sank back down to the deck and slept for several hours more.

I don't blame anyone for not checking up on me. Things were getting pretty exciting out there. Once the ship was stowed and underway, the captain started to tell someone about the natives, the plague, the bodies and so on.

In the middle of trying to explain exactly what they'd seen, the results of my scans, a nuclear explosion ripped the sky. Someone had nuked the Island of Skull Mountain.

The communication bands were filled with national authorities trying to contact their island surveillance units. Then accusations flew, and counter accusations, and so on.

In the middle of that, someone remembered that there was a group that had announced that they'd been the last people on the island.

So, what with one thing and another, it was hours before anyone thought to check up on me. Julie snapped on the overhead lights and walked into the space designed to stage up to twenty tanks.

"Duke, there's a guy from World Health Organization that wants to know if you saved any of that... that..." The space was crowded.

I couldn't sit up. I was curled up in the corner, with walls to my back and butt. I think I was about 50 feet tall right then. Jules stood in the doorway and stared across at me. Laying on my forearm, we were eye to eye.

"Duke... What's happened to you?"

"I'm a giant," I replied with a shrug. That drove my shoulder into a light fixture, so I didn’t do it again.

In the next couple of hours, I dictated some statements for WHO, squeezed through the handling passage to the boat deck, grew about five more feet and cursed Cabooza Vomit Elder to every hell I could recall from a course in comparative religion.

In the boat bay I could stretch out. The landing craft were shifted into other bays and I had room. Providing I didn't grow too much more.

At one point, Tembo was discussing some more WHO questions, and some CDC concerns. Julie sat on a bench near my shoulder. Some of the mercenaries had bashed together some shorts out of tents. They'd left it loose. Optimists.

When Tembo left, Jules rubbed my shoulder. "What are you gonna do, Duke?"

"I was thinking of a hi-wire act in the circus," I said. "Place women in tights on the wire, catch them when they jump, maybe juggle." She stared. Well, sometimes it took her a minute to see the humor.

"Or a TV show. Like Mr. Science, you know? Use my biochemistry background. Get a big set, so it looks like I have a lab. Then have people in cages. So I can explain science as if I was experimenting on human individuals. Or would that be too creepy?"

"Do you think this is funny?!" she shouted.

"Yeah...."

"Seven or twelve nations are in a feeding frenzy about the last two days of Skull Island!"

"The Island of Skull Mountain," I corrected her.

"IT'S A FUCKING ATOLL!!" she overcorrected. "Remember the nuke? Right now, whatever they were after, to control or destroy or...or..."

"Or sell on eBay?" I suggested.

"AAAARGH!" She stomped a foot. "Whatever's left of Skull Glowing Crater....Is in you."

"Oh." They were going to want a piece of me. Sure, there's lots to go around, right now, but still... I picked up my sister and held her close to my face. I stroked her back, a sure way to calm her down. "It'll be okay. I promise."

Just then, I noticed that I was growing erect. The feel of her, of holding a grown woman in one hand, was amazing. I'd never felt anything like it.

Her ass was perfectly cupped in my palm. My thumb was wrapped around her waist, holding her safely in my grip, and I noticed her breasts rubbing the back of my thumb. I turned her around, looking at her ass.

Well, it was still my sister. I wasn't looking at her as much as the idea of her. Imagining a few old girlfriends in the same place. Jules was looking over her shoulder at me.

"Duke? What the hell are you doing?" she asked.

"I have got to GET me one of these," I muttered.

"Duke. Duke Verne. Put me down, now," Julie ordered.

"Not just yet," I said. "Where are we at?"

"Huh?"

"Ship's position? Where are we?"

"We're going past the Lesser Antilles. We'll be to Florida by..."

"The Caribbean. Cool. Have them open the boat bay." I did some traveling in the islands. Usually holding a clipboard for someone researching local wildlife, so I'd seen plenty of isolated islands. Not big enough to support a permanent population, but maybe a hiding place for a giant...

"Duke? What are you doing?" Roland was at the door.

"Leaving. You guys don't want any of the shitstorm aimed at me right now. So, let me out." He pretended to consider it.

"Look," I pressed, "I keep growing. Eventually, I'm going to get too big for this space. I may be a risk to everyone on board." That got a reaction from him. He pulled a gun out. A big damned gun.

"I'm sure you could hit something vital," I said carefully. "But I might squeeze Julie as I go down. I don't want her hurt, you don't want her hurt... Open the water door over there, I'll swim out, you'll be clear." I turned my attention to Julie.

"We took a billion samples of my blood, fluids, skin. Offer those to the WHO, the CDC, the Pentagon, anyone that wants them. Maybe that'll keep you guys clear. Just let me go, Jules."

"Julie," she said reflexively. It got a smile out of her, though, that childhood reflex. She nodded, gestured to Roland. He spoke over his shoulder. A minute later, the door started to lift. Water rushed in and started to swirl over and around me.

I kissed my sister on the top of her head and slid down the bay. Lifted her to a catwalk, and launched out into the ocean. I glanced up at the stars. I wasn't great shakes with navigation, but I found the North Star and headed west.

-----

Near sunset, two days later, I found an island. I'd always been a natural swimmer, now I seemed to have miracle buoyancy. I felt like I could swim forever. But I was getting tired of raw shark sushi.

The stupid things were no threat to me, but unafraid, so they'd get close enough to stun, rip, and gnaw. Bleah.

Now, I was looking for a place to hide. I followed the coastline from a distance and found a river. I was going to swim upstream and find a grotto or someplace to hide from the sun, satellites and tourists.

Just as I turned inland, though, I saw a boat. A small motor craft, it had a floating deck off the back and a flag that I thought was a diver's flag.

Curious, I swam a little closer, then dove, looking for the divers. Figured to give someone a whopping great vacation story.

I didn't see anyone at first. I turned to continue towards the river I'd chosen when I saw the bubbles. Someone was on the bottom. I crept closer.

A woman stood on the ocean floor, blonde hair waving in the water, a slow trickle of bubbles rising from her position. I closed on her, waiting for her to see me and react.

Up close, I realized she wasn't standing on the bottom, she was trapped. A giant clam had one foot firmly held. I looked around for her diving partner, but we were alone.

She saw me and gave a slow, gentle wave. I reached past her leg, noticing how long and trim it was, and tried to open the clam's mouth. It was hopelessly strong.

I shot up to the surface for a breath, and looked into her boat. A pry bar and a spare bottle were in the back. I grabbed them both.

She waved again when I came back down, and slowly shifted to the backup tank. At least, I hoped it was backup. I couldn't read the tiny dials. While she was doing that, I pried the clam open just enough to slip her foot out.

Then I lifted her to the surface. I wasn't sure if she needed to decompress, but I also wasn't sure if she had enough air to do anything. And it didn't seem all that deep, here...

Anyway, I took her up to the top, slipped off the tanks, and laid her gently on the floating deck. She lay there for a while, taking great gasps of air. I floated beside her, watching for any other sign of life.

Finally, she rose up on her elbows and looked at me. "So, this is dying?" she asked.

"Dying? I saved you. You owe me," I replied.

"Yeah," she said with a giggle. "In the midst of drowning, King Neptune swims up, with a spare tank of air, and saves my dumb ass. I'm really here and I'm not suffering an oxygen deprivation delusion." She lay back down.

"Are you alright?" I asked.

"Yeah, sure, fine, why wouldn't I be perfectly fine in my current mental state." She didn't sound fine, but at least the foot was whole. Bruised and swelling up, but whole. I watched a wave knock it against the hull, and she winced, but didn't scream as if it was broken.

I started staring a lot at that leg, then the other one.

"Are you alone? Is there anyone else I need to save?" That got a laugh.

"Yes, ten years of diving, the one time I decide to go alone, I died. That sucks, you know? Oh, of course you know. You're either the god of the sea, the angel of death, or my own mind." I wasn't thrilled to be her hallucination, but it might make things go easier.

"So, you ready for the trip?" I asked. "Ready to go on?"

"Sure, why not?" She swung her feet into the water and sat there, staring across at me. "What do we do next?"

"You have to leave your earthly things behind," I said. I raised a finger and brushed the shoulder of her swimsuit aside. "All earthly things."

"Sure," she agreed, stripping naked. I had to help her stand to get the thing off, feeling the flow of her muscles under my touch.

----

I carried her one-handed to the beach. I lay carefully down on the sand and stretched her across my chest.

"It's a metaphor," I explained. Life comes 'from the sea,' and in death, we retrace that path. The afterlife is further inland. Ankle still hurt?"

"Yeah," she said, extending her other limbs and arching her back. I watched her breasts wobble around.

"Well, that means you're still connected to this life."

"That means I've still got a clam clamped on my foot."

"Same thing. So, we can't go on until you let go."

"Fine," she said, running her hands through my chest hair. "You're warm. This is nice. Besides, I'm not going until I feel the rapture of the deep. I'm drowning, I deserve that last delusional fling." She was driving me insane. I skinned the shorts down to my knees.

My penis was rock hard and pointed at the Big Dipper. The little woman sat up and saw the shadow against the darkening sky. "Oh. Why did I think that up?" she asked.

"Rapture?" I suggested. She wriggled a bit.

"Well, the way your chest vibrates when you talk is cool..." She ground her pussy against my sternum while I replied.

"Yes. Go on. Grrrrrrrrrrrravel."

"Oooh, thank you."

"My pleasure. Are you going to do anything about that?" I gestured to my cock.

"Is there a Mrs. Neptune I could talk to?" She turned to look over her shoulder to my face. One perfect breast was in outline and I could just make out the nipple. "Because, no offense, oh lord of the fishies, but I'm a lesbian."

Crap, I thought. But I kept the smile on my face.

"Um," she asked, "you do know what a lesbian is, right?"

"I'm a Greek deity," I replied. "Of course I know, we all know. All aspects of human sexuality are our basic bailiwick." I reached out to stroke her hair, her back. Then I grabbed her around the upper arms and torso. "Now, speaking of Greek culture...do you know what a 'tragedy' is?"

She screamed briefly as I lifted her up and down to my face. I stroked her breasts, parted her legs and probed at her pussy. She was, quite literally, mine to toy with.

I was as gentle as possible and tried to leave her leg alone. Actually, she wound up hurting herself more, kicking at my hand with the wrong foot.

I paused while she panted, waiting for the pain to fade. "That wasn't smart. And it changed nothing, except to make you more hurt." She nodded and slumped in my grip.

Her breasts were marvelous to the touch and fantastic to the taste. I could feel the nipples harden under my attention, even if the woman herself wasn't exactly aroused.

Then I stretched her across my face and licked her pussy. I'd always enjoyed going down on girlfriends, mostly because I really enjoyed being able to do something for them. And being afforded access was usually significant, in all but the most shallow relationships.

This was different. I was under no illusion that she'd turn straight from my raping her. And I was clear on the fact that it was rape. But the thrill, the power, the complete mastery over another human being, however puny, that was a charge unlike any other I'd ever experienced.

When I finally lifted her down to my crotch, and rubbed her against my cock, it was almost, emotionally, an anti-climax. We'd crossed some threshold; she was just a toy to me. And that was the orgasm I thought I could become addicted to.

I came, lifting her up and to the side so she didn't get covered with come. She hung limply in my hand by then. I crawled down to the water, then changed my mind.

A few steps and we were in the river. The tide was going out, so it was fresher water than the sea would have been. I used that to bathe her gently, getting the remains of the salty sea and my sweat off of her.

The sand I'd been laying on was still warm when I dug out a pit and lay her gently down. Blanketed with sand, she fell asleep as I watched. Then I brushed away my outline in the sand, backed into the surf and walked to the river.

A few miles (I think) upstream, I found a nice little isolated grotto. Rapids up and downstream protected it from casual boaters, there were no paths and no waterfalls to draw tourists. I got as far under the canopy as I could and nestled down to sleep.

My first conquest would wake in the morning, with _A_ story about how she'd made it to the beach while her swimsuit and tanks and fins were anchored some distance out. I just wondered what story she'd tell the hotel, the boat rental, the tourists... And what she'd tell herself.

The questions buzzed around for a while as I drifted off to sleep.

In the evening, I paid some attention to hygiene. A branch ripped off a tree was my toothbrush. Handfuls of sand scraped away layers of dirt and grime. Then I slipped down the river to the sea.

I spent two nights exploring. There were quite a few rivers and streams on the island, several leading to isolated spots where I might pass the day. I was lucky that the islands in the gulf were so underpopulated these days.

During the flooding of the 10's, the populations had evacuated. Then, when the Heat Exchanger was built in orbit, cooling the planet back down, the islands had been preserved, but the people hadn't all moved back.

The resort industry claimed to be conscious of the 'environmental footprint' and limited the number of permanent residents. The fact that this made for that much more unspoiled island realty made the environmentalists happy and the resort owners rich.

And if I was careful, I could move about freely. I paid attention to daylight and moonlight, tides and fishing craft, beach parties and dirigible safaris. I found that sound carries much farther across water than I'd ever suspected, and that people at a luau can't see sea monsters to save their lives.

The third night, I had to get another fix. I floated in the surf and watched a pig roast on the beach near one of my hides. Soon enough, couples started to walk out of the firelight and out of sight.

More and more wandered into the darkness and the beach grass. Finally, a single woman turned from the fire and walked to the water. She finished off a bottle of beer, threw it as far out to sea as possible, then turned to walk along the edge of the surf.

When she was as alone as I thought she was going to be, I crawled up the sand and grabbed her. She started to shriek as I lifted her up.

"Quiet," I said, "and you won't get hurt." I held her up out of the water as I walked back out to where it was deep enough for me to swim. She curled up in my hand as much as my grip would let her.

On the other side of the mouth of the river, the beach was totally cut off from the tourists. We could just see the nearest fire in the distance. The moon rose as I crawled ashore and I sat down to take a look at my latest prize in the pale light.

She was short, I think, pleasantly rounded and kind of dark-skinned. It was the work of a moment to peel off the t-shirt and shorts, athletic bra and thong, to see more of that skin. She lay still in my palm, legs and arms dangling over the side of my hand.

I stroked a fingertip slowly across her body, top to bottom. I prodded at a boob, pinched a foot between finger and thumb, moved her arms. It was fantastic. She did nothing to stop me doing whatever I wanted. There was nothing she could do.

I rolled her over and stroked her ass, thighs, calves. Then back again, to pay attention to her belly, hair, throat.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"I'm not sure," I admitted. "I just...feel this wonderful thrill, just holding you like this."

"Are you going to...eat me?"

"I promised not to hurt you," I said. I felt her relax in my hand, and heard a deep sigh. I laughed and slipped two fingers between her knees. They spread easily and I glimpsed her shaven pussy. "Of course," I said slowly, "I still may...eat you."

"Well, if those are my choices," she said, "I choose the one that doesn't involve ketchup." I laughed and rolled backwards to the ground.

Holding her around the waist, I lowered her feet to my face. She obligingly spread them and straddled my lips. Her hands moved to grab my nose and I felt her wriggle to get to a comfortable position.

I released my grip and let her balance on top of my face. Her legs tightened against my cheeks. "No one'll believe this," she muttered.

My lips squeezed at her pussy, then parted them to slip out my tongue. She shrieked when it touched her, lifting up by pushing down on my nose. It folded and she rolled off my face.

I caught her before she hit the ground, then held her beside my face. "Sorry," I said.

"I was just surprised," she apologized back. "This is so weird. But I love a challenge." I noticed then just how drunk she was. That was probably in my favor...

I tried again, donning her like an air mask. Fingers on either hip kept her in place while I licked at her. She wriggled and giggled, then leaned back and screamed. Her legs kicked and she bucked on my mouth.

"Oh, this dream is so going into my blog," she moaned as I lifted her off.

"Dream?" I asked. "Last time I was King Neptune."

"Yeah," she murmured. "I heard."

I sat up and rolled the sleepy girl onto my cock. It was steel hard. She grabbed ahold and hummed. I watched as she buried her face in the knob and nuzzled against me. That was nearly enough right there.

Pinching her hips again, I moved her back and forth across my penis. She licked and nibbled, then shouted 'thar she blows' as I came.

I washed up in the river, placed her back on her side of the beach and slipped back into the water. Let her figure out how she 'dreamed' her clothes across to the far beach.

---

Two months later, I was surprised to still be at large. I'd have thought they'd have hunted me down by now. But as long as I wasn't being brought to justice, I'd continue on.

I doubted the prison, laboratory or wherever I was destined to end up would give me a weekly ration of ass.

The girls had changed a bit by then. They weren't quite as scared as I thought they should be. The night I found Tammy, I got educated.

I was drifting along beyond the surf, smelling the pig roasting over another fire on the beach. Couples hadn't started to form yet, for the most part. I knelt in the shallows and wondered if there was a way to get the pork alone in the dark.

"Hey!" a voice shouted. "It's King Neptune!" I sank down in the water, trying to see where the shouter was, how they'd seen me. She hadn't.

On the beach beyond the fire, a woman danced on the sand and screamed. Couples dashed out to see the excitement, then swore at her and walked back to the fire.

I heard 'slut who cried wolf' more than a few times. I eased over to her location, still out in the water. She did something in the sand, dragging her foot. Then she screamed again.

"Neptune's footprint!" Only half as many people showed up, saw the outline in the beach, and stormed away. One guy lingered.

"Tammy, give it up. Neptune only kidnaps the PRETTY girls." Then he was gone. Tammy sat down on the beach, shoulders slumped as near as I could tell. I got an idea.

I crawled up to the shore, slow and patient. Just as my face reached the little woman's spot, she looked up.

"Shush," I said. "Do exactly what I say, and you won't get hurt." She didn't freak, or scream. She smiled.

"You're real," she said quietly. "I told them you were real." Then the smile turned to a pout. "I've been trying to find you for three nights! Where have you been?"

"Busy leading the great tiger shark migration, sorry. Now, you want them to believe you?" She nodded. "Okay. Do exactly, I mean exactly what I say. Take off your clothes, first. It's a rule, I can't help it."

A few minutes later, she started screaming. Not the 'come see what I found' scream, but absolute terror. Those partiers that heard her made rude gestures and went on.

Then I lifted her up into the air. The source of the scream rose, 70, 80 feet up. The razzers started to look confused.

I stomped into the water, kicking up spray. The crowd started to come out onto the beach, following the screaming and splashing.

Someone tripped into my footprint. I'd stepped down on her foot outline, pressing her clothing into the beach.

Then I turned and ran towards the massed coeds. As my dark shape started to become noticeable, they turned and ran. I scooped up the entire roast pig and took off.

----

Tammy sat on my knee, with a few ribs, while I picked the rest of the beast clean. I listened while she enthused about the evening.

I was becoming something of a legend, between the Loch Ness monster and some highway bandit. People lined the beaches at sunset and sunrise, trying to glimpse me. A few pics had shown up on the internet, quickly identified as hoaxes.

They'd realized I only grabbed tourist girls, and only when they were alone at night. So some girls, who found the idea, I dunno, romantic? They separated on the beaches and vied to be the one that was attractive enough to get grabbed.

I'd only gone for the loners because I figured that people would be more skeptical of stories only one witness could provide. But it gave the tourists a sense of security, if they felt that as long as they doubled up, they were safe.

That they could take precautions and pretend they were at risk of being taken off by King Neptune, but feel that they were safe enough.

Odd. I had fans. Tammy said that the 'I rode the big one' t-shirts were almost an entire industry in themselves, now.

Of course, many tourists avoided the island completely, she told me. Most of her sorority went someplace else. She wanted to meet me.

"And here I am," she giggled, drumming her heels into my leg.

"Here you are," I agreed, flicking the last bone into the darkness. "Well, Tammy, you did me a favor, so what can I do for you?"

It was hard to tell in the dark, but I didn't think she was looking at my face. "It's a little weird," she said softly, "but...."

Well, I thought, once she explained. What a weird fetish. But who was I to judge? I discovered, by a freak accident, that I was a fan of pocket sized lovers. And that cooked pig beat the hell out of raw shark.

----

Tammy squealed like a dolphin in the tuna tank at the aquarium. I held her at arm's length, in the way I'd used to hold my army men jets, and buzzed the beach.

Up and down, she flew like a bird, her arms wide and feet pointed. And she came. Twice, she assured me, as I carried her back to the party.

Searchlights flooded the beach, but not too much of the surf. Yellow tape outlined the footprint, her clothing still crushed into the sand. I carried her as close as I dared, kissed the top of her head and placed her on the sand.

She waved, and waited until I was a ways into the surf before turning to call for help. Hotel staff rushed across to her.

I had wondered if the searchlights were going to spear out to find me, but they never moved. Huh.

---

Two days later, I woke up to the smell of pork. Not a memory, another roasted pig was staked out on the shore of the river, near my hiding place. I guess I wasn't as hidden as I'd imagined.

But why was the pig there? I figured there were two chances. It was a trap, drugged or containing a position transmitter or something. Or, it was a gift.

As far as I understood the islands these days, the corporations that ran the hotels and casinos kept a tight rein on the support population. Service at the resorts was nearly indentured servitude. If I was picking off the tourists, causing any consternation for the hotels, the maids and cooks and launderers and so on might be cheering me on.

Well, either way, I couldn't see a reason to skip the pig. If it was a gift, it'd be rude. If it wasn't, well, anyone arresting me would have to feed me.

It was a lovely pig. I said so, with a belch that rustled the trees. Then I slipped into the water and away.

That night, I swam along the shore and heard giggling. A cabin cruiser was farther out to sea than I was. Curious, I slipped closer.

Four women sat around a lantern on the deck, passing a bottle and playing some game. When I was close enough to make out the words, one pointed to another and said, "Okay, your challenge.... Is to seduce King Neptune!"

Raucous laughter followed that. The girl pointed out stepped up to the rail, though, climbed up and shouted my name. Well, my nickname. Then she took off her halter and threw it into the water.

"C'mere, Neppy. Come see the fine boobies." Her friends cheered her on. The boat rocked a bit and she nearly fell into the water. I tread water and watched the show.

"He's not coming," one of the friends said after a while. "Yours are not powerful enough boobs."

"Sure they are," the challenger insisted. "She just doesn't know how to use them."

"Actually," I said, "I can't see them. You've got your back to the light." Everyone froze. Boob chick stepped carefully down into the well of the deck. I waited.

"Is...is that you, King Neptune?" one asked.

"Could be," I admitted.

"Are you... are you gonna... ?"

"I never take women out of groups," I said. "For one thing, it's rude, for another, I'm horrible at making choices." The one girl covered herself with a towel, the others closed together.

"Come closer, where we can see you," another one yelled.

"Can't. I don't like multiple witnesses. If your stories confirm each other, I'm not as mysterious." One knelt down and snuck into the cabin of the boat. Probably thought I couldn't see her. Well, if she radioed for the Coast Guard, I'd hear them coming. I was about to leave, anyway.

"Well, uh, we all hear you," one said.

"Good point. But all you hear is a voice." The sneaky one crept back onto deck and moved to the stern. "I could be a drunk student with a loudspeaker." Sneak popped to the top of the rail and fired a flare gun at my voice. The flaming line shot across the water, skipped off of a wave, blew past my ear, and exploded somewhere behind me.

I ducked, but probably not before they all saw my head outlined by the light. As I swam up under the boat, I could hear some muted screaming. They were probably afraid of my revenge.

Then I realized... I could do anything. Even more than the kidnapping and molesting. The boat was a fragile cup of safety on a hostile ocean. I could stave in the hull and watch it sink under them. Or shake them into the water one at a time.

The thought was enough, though. Teens and twenty-somethings with monster stories were one thing. If Nessie had started killing people at Inverness, it wouldn't have been a quaint tradition, but a deadly hunt.

So I thought about destruction, thought about it a lot, but in the end just lifted the hull enough that the jets were out of the water. Then I swam towards the river.

The screaming went on and on. Then they did a Jonah. They threw one girl over the side. I assume it was the one with the flare gun, an attempt to appease me and prevent their doom.

I appreciated it, really. I mean, over the years, people have given me things, or given things up for me. This was a sacrifice to me. Big difference. Big thrill.

I didn't kill her, though. I needed a breath about then, so I lowered the boat and picked up little Jonahina. She was naked, just the way I like my sacrifices. I contented myself with a brief grope, then dropped her back on the boat.

A deep breath, a grab, and we went on. I knew a sand-spit in the mouth of one of my hiding rivers. I pointed the cruiser to it and shoved.

The four girls had been drinking, and in the morning someone was going to have to rescue them from the sandbar they'd grounded the boat on. It'd look like they'd been drunk enough to nearly sink themselves, hamstringing any credibility their story might otherwise have had.

I tapped the hull twice in a goodbye, and listened to the pleasant sound of their screams. I didn't get any that night, but damn, it was as good as.

I learned to avoid fishing boats. I got a hook snagged in my shorts and yanked a fellow clean off his boat. I dragged the poor guy about half a mile before noticing. He was so out of it by then that he thought I was the Archangel Michael.

I placed him on a beach near a hula-dance contest and shouted: "Hey! Is that the Archangel Michael?" before slipping off into the surf. I really wonder what story he told.

The shorts were undamaged. The WonderCanvas tents Roland had bought lived up to the advertising.

One night I felt, I dunno, constrained. I headed east and just swam. Out in the greater Atlantic, I felt free. It was deep enough that even I couldn’t dive down to the bottom. And there were no boaters, surfers, parasails... I could float on the surface and take in the sun, play with fish in the sunlit water, and just splash around.

It was such fun, I started taking to the Deeps on a regular basis. It was great fun, until the afternoon I came up for air and nearly hit a sailboat.

The wave dropped like an upside down stage curtain and there she was. One masted, white with blue trim, shining in the sun. Couldn't have missed it if you were blind. Or, face down and watching a manta ray the size of my forearm swimming along.

The only person visible was a woman, in a fashionable little version of a sailor suit, working the tiller.

She wasn't surprised to see me. For that matter, she looked familiar.

"Hey, Duke," she said with a wave.

"Debbie!" I said. One of Jules' friends. Not a sailor, as far as I knew, but a close friend. We'd spent more than a little time together. "What does my sister want?" Well, it couldn't have been an accident.

For an answer, she pointed to the cabin. Jules climbed out. I peeked in the windows, looking for Roland.

"I'm alone," she promised. She hefted a large satchel from her shoulder to the deck. "We need to talk, but first things first." I watched her try to wrestle what looked like a wheel of cheese out of the bag. I took it from her.

"Vitamins," she said. "What you haven't been getting from the fish and pork and whatever else you've been eating."

"You've been watching me," I said. I took it, gagging just a little bit.

"The world's been watching," she replied.

It was getting difficult to keep up with the sailboat. Debbie was trying to keep it slow, but had to tack back and forth.

Finally, I just plucked Jules off the deck, rolled onto my back and floated. She stood in the center of my chest and looked down at me.

"Nice to see you again, Julie," I said.

She smiled back. "Before I forget," she said, "you can't leave until you do a favor for Debbie."

"Anything, of course."

"She wants to touch your penis." That didn't sound right.

"Debbie's gay, Julie."

"Yeah. And she's tired of people who still, in this day and age, say that if she ever had a real man, she'd go straight." I stared.

"And..."

"Well, she wants to be able to say 'I've touched on THIS BIG and it wasn't a turn on. So unless you're more manly than that....'" That sounded like Debbie. She didn't want sex as much as to count coup. Fine by me. We laughed for a bit, then Jules got serious.

"You were right," she said. "Everyone wanted a piece of you. To keep everything civil, the UN distributed your medical samples everywhere."

"Ah. Any cures?"

"No.... To be frank, everyone wanted their own giant commando. That's where research went."

"Oh. Yeah, that would follow. Any luck?"

"Yes," she said. "Every industrialized nation has their version of the Kong Virus."

"So every nation has giant soldiers?" I tried to decide if I was happier when I was the only one or if I wanted to share my condition.

"No," Jules said, breaking into my thoughts. "They have trained units, with enough serum to blow them up, if they become necessary. But only as a counter to someone else using giants to invade."

"Ah. The new arms race. Mutually Assured Giant Destruction." Sounded like something my species would come up with. Of course, I wasn't exactly in the position of moral superiority. I'd used my growth to haunt a resort.

We watched Debbie bring the sailboat around again, passing by with a wave.

Julie sat down on my chest, patting me in a comforting manner. "They're keeping this arm's race quiet. No activists or demonstrations if they can help it. So no one's been blown up big, yet. No one wants to pay for their food until they're needed, and it keeps the whole thing secret." That made sense. But...

"Where does that leave me?"

"You're okay," she promised. And I believed her. I always have. But how? "Current thinking," she went on to explain, "is that you're the hottest thing since sliced bread. If you'd gone to New York, then you'd be all over the media. Instead of Kong being a freak, it'd show that giantization could be replicated. Everyone would be demanding that the government make THEM giant."

I nodded. I had thought about that a bit.

"As it is, you're more of a mystery. The government has no official stance on you because they don't have to have one. So, it seems that you're breaking people to the idea that humans can be giants. If they ever have to admit to having the tech, you've done a lot of the advance PR work."

I floated for a bit, thinking that one over.

"I brokered you a deal," my sister said. "To help you stay as mysterious as possible, they're going to find you a real good hiding place and make it comfortable. The Sea-Bees or the Army Corps of Engineers, whoever. And dietary supplements to keep you healthy. And an annual physical."

"Turn your head and cough? They'll need a five man team to -"

"No, more to check and see the long term effects of your size. Everyone wants a piece, so there will be an international team of doctors that'll check you out once in a while. Everyone gets the same data, no one gets scared that the others are ahead."

"Can that work? What if the press finds out?" My sister raised her eyebrow.

"Mr. President, is it true that the US is supporting a giant serial rapist named King Neptune out of the Virgin Islands? Can you comment on the expenditure to build a giant single's pad on the edge of the Cayman Trench? Is it true that..."

We both broke out laughing at the thought. He wouldn't even have to lie, just stare at the reporter until the rest of the press corps laughed them out of the room.

"Thanks, Jules," I said. "For everything."

"Julie," she corrected. I shook my head.

"I may not ever go dancing again, but at least I got one thing I've always wanted out of this. A little sister."

"I'm your big sister," she pointed out.

"Remember the day you pinned me to the ground, and I had to sing to all your friends? All twenty verses of the 'Sisters Are Great' song?"

"No..."

"Well, I do." I blew out a great deal of air from my lungs. Buoyancy decreased and I started to slip beneath the waves. Water flowed over my chest to splash Jules. "Yeah, a little sister. A real little sister. Jules."

"Julie!" she shouted, then "Don't you DARE!" A wave washed her to her ass. "DEBBIE!"

I grabbed her by an ankle and dangled her in the air while the sailboat circled back.

"Jules," I said again.

"Jules," she finally agreed.

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