Teslite: Setting the Scene

Welcome to the future, dear reader. There are a few things that make this world tick.

After the end of the Third World War, the surface of Earth was contaminated by the use of toxins, chemical weapons, and nuclear weaponry. The surface is no longer habitable so mankind has created giant floating nations to survive. These nations are held aloft by anti gravity generators, reverse engineered from the Martian wrecks after their failed invasion attempt. Each of these nations is named after notable rivers across the globe, including influences from their respective areas.

Since the war’s end, Nikolette Markova discovers an unknown element forming on the Earth’s surface absorbing the radiation and other toxins on the surface, fittingly named Absorbium. This element is mined from the surface and used to generate more power to their anti gravity generators, power plants, and even the weaponry aboard their aerial warships.

Though shipments go missing. Strange things happen. Mysteries to be unravelled.

 _._._

“Nicole, look at the size of that thing!” Amisi gasped.

I glanced up from the newspaper at the massive warship breaking through the clouds. It was bristling with guns and clad in heavy armor, large plumes of acrid black smoke rose from the four stacks atop the deck. Along its hull painted in black gothic text was its name, S.M.S. Siegfried, the flagship of the Rhine Navy. Even from such a distance, the tea cups on our table clattered incessantly as it floated by with a loud mechanical hymn. A few sparrows flew off in terror in the shadow of the monstrosity above.

“So this is what the Rhine Navy meant by their superiority.” I grumbled, staring back into the pages of the paper.

It was not particularly interesting to see a warship. The United Kingdom of Thames was a naval hotspot for nations across the world.

Amisi turned in her seat to face me and gave me an odd look. Feeling her stare I looked at my roommate. She was, for a lack of better words, a goddess in comparison to me.

Amisi was an exceptionally skilled archer in her home country of Nile. She was skilled, witty, and not surprisingly very attractive. Her olive skin glowed whenever it met sunlight, which she displays to great advantage with a thin loose fitting white sheath dress, cut short to reveal a daringly amount of her long slender legs. She frequently wore lace up sandals and a thin belt around her trim waist. Revealing as it all may be, she was still very modest about her appearance and carefully made sure that it was not beyond the borders of “soft-core”.

Though what I always notice first about her appearance is her eyes. They might as well have been supernatural. They always glow a light shade of violet. I had asked her about it before but she always shrugs and replies it’s just a family thing, she’s modest like that. She’s my roommate, but more of a friend than anyone else I’ve ever met.

But then there is me…

I’m not particularly pretty, nor beautiful. Since I was a child I’ve been a bit of the ugly duckling in the family. It’s as my mother used to say, “You grow tall like a weed but you’re as thin as a leaf”. Behind these old reading glasses, I have dark green eyes from my Father, whom I have yet to meet.

Luckily, since meeting Amisi, she introduced me to a few things. She helped me gain some weight, apparently a sort of strategy she wanted to try. Perhaps it was more of luck than strategy, but the 28 pounds I had gained went in those places that men (maybe even a woman) find particularly “special”. I had turned my curly mess of auburn hair into a wavy and organized set up that cascaded down my back. Just a little bit of makeup and excersize with Amisi, I had blossomed into a fine young woman. Nothing about me was particularly unique… Does this make me vain?

“Hey, are you alive in there?” She asked, waving a hand over my face.

I blinked a few times in surprise then felt my cheeks redden, realizing I had been staring at her the whole time.

She graciously ignored my incompetence and gestured towards a young Constable approaching. I quickly closed the paper and set my hands in my lap. He stood over the table for a moment, eyes lingering on the newspaper headline. I was mentally sighing; perhaps I should have chosen a better option than ‘Woman Balloons Found! Strikes Seven.’

“Is there a problem Constable?” I managed to ask, trying to keep my voice from cracking. It can be a bit intimidating speaking to a Thamesman, especially when you’ve got the drawling accent from the Hudson States.

He cleared his throat and adjusted his stance, either to look more professional or to appear confident, it was difficult to tell. He must have been a novice.

“Good evening madam, I am Constable Ichabod. W-would you mind if I ask you two a question? It’s a survey for the other Constables.”

He was clearly nervous, the poor thing. Amisi and I exchanged glances and I nodded.

“Go right ahead.” She answered, glancing at me sideways.

His face lit up almost immediately, a small smile broke his lips and he reached into the breast pocket of his blue uniform. Flipping open a paper pad he shifted his stance.

“On a scale of one to ten, how safe would say that these streets are?”

“One.” I replied without pause.

He paused and frowned.

“Y-you are joking, yes?”

“No.”

He was silent for several heartbeats before asking why.

“For one,” I began, “we’re living on a giant floating nation that at any second could break apart and fall to the wasteland below. Two, there are still murderers that have yet to be caught and thieves stalking in every shadow. Three, warships frequently pass by that could easily just blow us apart… Am I correct thus far?”

The Constable was stumped. He opened and closed his mouth like a fish, unsure what to say.

Amisi gave him a friendly grin.

“She’s afraid of heights sir.”

He practically deflated with a silent sigh and his shoulders sank.

Sadly enough, she was right. I cannot stand heights, and the idea of floating thousands of feet in the air over solid ground, contaminated land no less, makes me uneasy. Goodness, I hate heights!

“M-might I ask why you said one?”

I shrugged and replied, “There’s always a Constable nearby.”

The Constable thanked us and went on his merry way, awkwardly stopping to ask others the same question. Amisi gave me a goofy grin.

“What?”

“I’m just imagining the two of you as a couple.”

“The Constable? No. He’s a bit… weird.”

She pouted and crossed her arms as if in defiance.

“You need to be more open with these possibilities. You could be missing out on a top notch guy.”

I glanced sideways at the Constable. I could not help but sigh when he dropped his pencil and scrambled for it, awkwardly apologizing to the couple he was questioning.

“He’s bound to find someone,” I propped the paper back up and cracked it open, “but that’s a bet I would be willing to take.”

_._._

Work as a secretary is very boring work, especially when the company gets very little business. The Duster Dirigible Company has been around for nearly forty years, but since the invention of anti-gravity reactors, the dirigible business has soured. At least it paid well; the hours were flexible, lots of time for reading.

I nearly jumped from my seat when the golden bell on the front of my desk rang. I quickly set aside the book and apologized to the visitor. I felt my gaze stop at the stunning creature standing over me.

She was a fiery red head with a very voluptuous figure straining the Thames military uniform. Her red tunic was stretched tight across her chest. Her thin waist was accentuated by a white belt strapped tightly around her midsection, a bayonet hanging along her waist. You didn’t have to imagine how her lower half was shaped against the skintight dark grey trousers; the seams were likely prone to bursting if she was any larger. Her short curly fire red hair hung over her shoulders. Her eyes were both a brilliant turquoise. Red plump lips and soft cheeks gave her a very cute appearance, tempting any man to give them a kiss. The soldier was practically glowing with a warm aura. Surely she must have been a hoot at the base.

“Hello, how may I be of service?” I asked, I hate to say that line.

“I am here to speak with Mr. Duster, is he in at the moment?” She asked with a strong Thames accent.

“He’s currently unavailable at the moment. May I take a message?”

“That won’t be necessary. When will Mr. Duster be available?”

I quickly checked the clock loudly clicking overhead the entrance doors. Four minutes to six.

“He will be available in four minutes, give or take,” I felt my heart beginning to race just looking at her, “w-would you care to wait until then?”

“If it’s no trouble.”

“No trouble at all.” I replied with a smile.

The soldier nodded and slowly strode around the room, examining the many paintings and old brown photographs of the early Duster dirigibles. With each movement there was a quiet creak of her tight trousers and the click of her boot heels on the tile floors. She was also gifted with a well padded rear that slightly bounced with each step. It was hard not to peek, which is odd considering I don’t have any attraction towards women…

“Amazing,” The soldier remarked, admiring a painting of a dirigible caught in a storm.

I fought hard not to say anything; it would be embarrassing to say something foolish in front of a potential client, a soldier no less. Wait. Why would the military take an interest in these old things? Aerial warships have a better life expectancy and were much safer. There has not been a military dirigible in over ten years.

As I was trying to wrack my brain for reasoning, the soldier had reached alongside my desk. The soldier turned and glanced at me over her shoulder.

She laughed nervously when I caught her gaze.

“I don’t mean to be rude; Where are you from? I don’t recognize your accent.”

Well, this isn’t the first time I’ve heard this question from a client. It’s strange to think that the Hudson States and the United Kingdom of Thames are close allies, yet some of us don’t recognize each other’s accents.

“The Hudson States madam.”

The soldier’s already bright face brightened more and her eyes twinkled with delight.

“I’ve always wanted to see Hudson!”

“It’s not as beautiful as the Thames, madam.”

The soldier simply waved a hand.

“You don’t need to be so formal,” She sat on the edge of the desk with a slight creak, “Are there any cowboy shows over there?”

I couldn’t help myself, I laughed. Loudly. It was a rather odd question. Of course there are cowboy shoots; there are cowboys all over the western Hudson.

“Yes, except ours are not shows.” I added a wink for emphasis.

The soldier did something I didn’t expect. Her cheeks turned a bright red and she quickly averted her eyes.

“Ah! I’m so sorry, I’m being rude.”

She quickly stood up and stepped a pace away from the desk.

“It’s alright, I don’t mind.”

The girl closed her eyes and was trying to control her breathing.

“Are you alright?”

“Y-yes. It’s just… something of a curse.”

“A curse?”

The soldier nodded and nervously fiddled with the lowest button of her tunic. The soldier quietly spoke under her breath. Was she praying or something? Did I do something? To end the now awkward silence, Mr. Duster had arrived.

Clad in an agonizingly bright yellow suit and an obnoxious red polka dot bow tie, he opened the doors with arms wide and a toothy grin flashing against the overhead lights. He sported the kind of mustache that only a villain would wear, like those in the silent films at night.

Mr. Duster was a short and squat man with a round face and a pudgy nose. He walked with long gait and nearly hopped with each step. His cheerful rosy cheeks gave him the appearance of a happy expression at all times (odd though, I have never seen him angry before) and his brown eyes locked in on the soldier.

“Welcome, welcome to Duster’s Dirigible Company. If you’re here to talk business, look no further than the master himself!” He quickly bowed, his nose nearly touching his knees, an amazing feat considering his girth.

“The Home Guard requests your presence at the Eastside Harbor tomorrow evening. Can it be arranged?”

“Of course! Anything the customer wants, they get! I shall be present.”

“You must understand that everything will be explained on base. We look forward to your presence Mr. Duster.”

The soldier smiled once more and bid him farewell. She paused in the doorway and glanced at me once more. She gave me a warm smile and waved before stepping out.

What an odd girl. Mr. Duster must have been in a good mood, considering the arrangement, letting me off an hour early. I thanked him and went on my way home. Throwing on my jacket, I stepped out into the streets. A cold breeze tried to whip my long skirt into my face. Luckily no one was around as far as I could tell.

“It helps to add weights.”

I quickly looked down at the sidewalk to my right. The soldier was there with a satchel slung under her arm. I blinked a few times surprised, had she waited for me?

She stifled a laugh and answered my unasked question. As we walked into the city she explained that she was just passing by from another arrangement when I was stepping out. Her name was Vanessa Eastgrove, a corporal in the Home guard. She was really nice to be around, even though there were many awkward staring men and sometimes women as we passed by. I wonder if Vanessa ever realized this, though I doubt she would care.

“What happened earlier in the lobby?” I asked.

“What do you mean?”

“You were hyperventilating or something and said it was a curse.”

The soldier’s smile wavered for a moment before she grabbed my arm and we stopped. She took a deep breath and glanced around first.

“Since I was a wee lass I’ve had this… power.”

“Power? Like a hero?”

“In a different world perhaps, but I’m not a hero… Every time I’m aroused I sort of…” She trailed off and fidgeted with the button once again.

I calmly placed a hand on her shoulder.

“If you don’t want to talk about it, I won’t ask.”

“No, no. I need to do this sometime,” she took a quick deep breath and exhaled, “anytime I kiss a woman they blow up.”

I just stared at her dumbly and tossed the words around my head. What? They explode?

“B-blow up?”

She nodded shamefully and averted her eyes.

“So… they explode?”

She shook her head, her red curls shaking across her face.

“No. They expand, like a balloon.”

“So what does that have to do with what happened in the lobby?”

She turned back and forth on her heals. She looked me over and kept avoiding looking at my eyes. Then it hit me.

“You… wanted to kiss me?”

She nodded.

“Oh.”

_._._

I quietly entered my apartment and hung up my coat. With an exhausted sigh I slowly drug myself into the living room and collapsed on the couch. Walking three miles to work and back in heels can be pretty exhausting. I looked around our apartment. It wasn’t much, just a few necessities and comfortable additions. There was the old worn out couch, a roll top desk against the wall, a television, two large book shelves, and a coffee table. It wasn’t much, but it got the job done.

I slowly rolled over onto my back and laced my fingers over my middle. The headline flashed through my mind, could Vanessa have been the unknown culprit? Surely she would not have told me if she was…

My brain was scrambling to understand everything and I simply resorted to staring at the ceiling.

I must have fallen asleep. Opening my eyes, I was staring at Amisi’s chin overhead. Amisi was sitting on the couch, nestling my head in her lap as she stroked my hair. She does that on occasion, I do the same to her. We’ve had a mutual agreement of sorts about this. That doesn’t make us strange does it?

“Hey, you’re finally awake.” She teased flicking my nose.

I grumbled and rose from the couch stretching my stiff limbs. Amisi stared at me for some reason.

“Something wrong?”

“No… you just look. Different.”

I looked down at myself. Everything looked normal to me.

“I don’t see anything new.”

“I can’t quite place it… Must be my imagination.” Amisi shrugged and leaned back in the couch resting her feet on the coffee table. She knows it bugs me when she does that.

“I’m going to get changed… and get your feet off the coffee table.”

“Yes mom.” She rolled her eyes.

I slipped into my bedroom and opened the drawer pulling out my bedtime attire. An old t shirt and shorts suffice. I unbuttoned my blouse and let it fall to the floor in a heap. I stared at the mirror for a short time.

Something was different… What was it? Moving a hand along my torso I found out quickly.

My breasts were fuller. I stared at them for a short time before feeling them to be sure I was not hallucinating or still asleep. They felt real… Sure enough they were larger, bulging out of my white lacy bra.

I slid off my skirt and noticed it was not just my breasts; my butt had grown as well. My previously form fitting panties were tighter. Trying not to panic, I quickly slid on my t shirt and squeezed my rear into my shorts. I turned around to examine myself. The shirt could hide the growth without a problem, then there is my shorts. I regret not choosing a larger size.

How will I be able to explain this to Amisi? This isn’t something normal, is it? I considered the possibility I might just be gaining some weight, or it could be the “Happy Time”. It sounds reasonable. I’ll just exercise a bit more starting tomorrow and maybe this will all pass over.

I rejoined my companion on the couch and watched the television. The news anchor was going on about the story about the seven balloon women. So far the culprit managed to slink away every time the authorities arrive; none the women had seen the man.

If none of them had seen the culprit, surely that crosses out Vanessa. If it wasn’t her, could there be others like her? Maybe they all have their own kind of-

“Hey!” I yelped as I felt Amisi pinch my leg.

“You were staring into space again…”

_._._

Groggily I awoke from my deathly slumber, rolling off the bed and landing on the floor with a loud thud. Wide awake now I stumbled in the dark to the light switch, banging my knee on the dresser in the process. Cursing I felt around for the switch and flicked it on. The electric lights zapped to life and illuminated the room.

In the mirror I noticed a considerable change. It was impossible, there’s no way anything like this is possible!

My breasts had grown another inch or so and so had my rear, giving me a more voluptuous figure. I rubbed my hands along my curves and discovered that my once flat stomach was now bloated. My heart began to race. The beating of my heart became deafening as I panicked, what was I supposed to do?! Maybe I should see a doctor. I could just get dressed and head out as soon as I can.

I froze remembering a little problem. Amisi’s alarm clock rang. Crap, how can I get past her?

Without second thoughts I quickly tried to throw on clothes that would fit. Everything fit so tight against my body it was like a second skin. Using a bra was out of the question, panties became an inadvertent thong. I managed a loose white blouse and a loose skirt. I spied an old dusty poncho from home and bit my lip.

Amisi knocked on my door. I quickly threw it over myself just as she opened the door.

“Hey it’s time to-…wha?” she just frowned at my choice of attire, “what is that?”

“O-oh this… it’s just a poncho!” I heard my voice crack, it always cracks when I’m nervous.

“Ah huh… Isn’t it a bit warm for that?”

“What? No, no, no, no! It’s perfect for spring!”

I was talking before my brain could react, albeit this was not a good explanation for wearing a dusty wool poncho in the middle of summer. Amisi knew I was hiding something; my voice always gets like this when I’m hiding something.

“Nicole.”

“Y-yes?”

“Why are you wearing layers?”

“Huh?”

She pointed at my front. I placed a hand on the bulges of my stomach and breasts. Amisi’s frown morphed into a look of concern.

“Is everything alright? You look pale.” She stepped closer and I quickly backed away.

“I-I… I have a cold! I don’t want you to catch it!”

Amisi rolled her eyes and stepped closer placing a hand on my forehead. She frowned again.

“You feel fine. But-“

Her front was pressing into mine and she slowly took a step back looking the expanse of my torso. Her violet eyes flicked from my nervous expression to my torso.

I was beat. She must know by now. She tossed the poncho onto the bed. Amisi slowly stretched a hand forward. Tentatively she touched my belly. She experimented and pushed. She drew her hand back quickly and stared in shock.

“How-?”

“I don’t know.”

Amisi walked around me and looked me over, her gaze penetrating any bit of modesty she once held. She was dumbstruck and stopped to stand in front of me.

“You… you’re bigger.” She whispered, afraid to say it aloud.

I unbuttoned my blouse and slid off my skirt, revealing my new curves to my friend. Amisi was concerned for my well being as well as curious in this sudden change. She slowly rubbed a hand along my bloated belly and drew back shaking her head.

“We need to call a doctor.”

I was agreeing with her, but perhaps there was a more discreet option.

“No.”

She blinked in surprised and asked why.

“This is nothing they can understand. Get a hold of the Home Guard; tell them I need to speak with Vanessa Eastgrove.”

She didn’t question my suggestion and hurried off to make the call.

I plopped down on the side of the bed and stared at my body. It felt funny being larger than normal. I tried to push my bloated stomach back in and watched it bounce back into shape. It was pleasurable in one way, but repulsive in another.

What kind of equilibrium could come of this? I heard Amisi’s voice in the other room and wondered what she thought of this change. How would Mr. Duster react?

This is the beginning of something else. There would be Hell to pay if I don’t get to the bottom of this.

First things first... Time to find some suitable clothes.

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