The Princess of the Atom by Ray Cummings

Drake and I were transfixed; amazed, doubting the evidence of our senses. Yet there was Dianne at our feet. She stood with a hand holding a fern stalk. Her little face was smiling. I heard a voice, of microscopic smallness, but clear. Dianne's voice; her familiar accents.

"You came, Frank. I -- we've been waiting."

I became aware that Drake had taken a step or two forward. The little figures in the grass scattered. Dianne called up sharply, "Careful, Drake! Don't step on us! Stand quiet! In a moment I'll be larger."

She turned and ran into the grass. Its blades were no higher than the length of my hand, but as though they were a jungle of huge green stalks they sheltered the small human figures. Half a dozen men, and one other girl, like Dianne, but with a robe of pale silvery white.

The figures clustered together. We could hear their faint voices. Words in a language unintelligible. Then the two girls drew apart. The men moved away. Hiding, watching from the concealing grass.

Amazing sight! Inconceivable shock to our normal senses! Before our eyes, Dianne and this other girl were becoming larger. A visible change. In a moment they were above the grass. They moved away from it. They bent the ferns aside. Dianne trampled one now. They came out into the little open patch of rock and pebbles where Drake and I were standing by the embers of the camp fire. Already they were as tall as our knees.

Dianne's voice, now more familiar than ever, said, "Don't look like that! Move back. Don't stand so close to us!"

For a moment neither Drake nor I spoke. A new realization of this thing swept me. The menacing giants along the coast had disappeared because they had become small. I had already contemplated that. But I had envisaged them only as small as myself. Like the midnight visitor who had called upon Drake and father. Yet here were humans still smaller.

And I realized then that what we had called a giant could be lurking here upon this island now. Any of these little patches of grass would shelter him, and a thousand like him.

Dianne had been furtive with her smoke signal to us. She had made it; and then had grown small with her companions, to hide in the grass and await our coming. She was so obviously furtive! As tall as my waist now, she gazed around anxiously as though, with her greater height than before, she might now discern some near-by enemy.

The girl with her seemed equally apprehensive. An air of haste enveloped them both.

And I saw now that the tiny figures of the men in the grass were spreading out and vanishing. Or searching? Or guarding? Their smallness making it possible for them to seek out any lurking tiny enemies which to us in our gigantic size could never be found.

A minute or two only while my thoughts roved and I clung to Drake and stared at Dianne and this strange girl growing large before us; Dianne, every minute as she neared what to me was her normal size, becoming more familiar of aspect.

The same Dianne -- our little sister! Yet how different! The long golden robe was of that same strange fabric as the infant dress father had shown us in which she had been found. Her pale-gold hair flowed free to her waist. But it did not come down into a peak on her forehead now. It was drawn back; and there on her forehead was the silver crescent patch. It seemed to glow. Unnatural. Uncanny. Yet it was a thing beautiful. It blended with her beauty. And it made her seem queerly regal.

She said abruptly, "Ahlma -- enough!"

The hand of each of the girls went suddenly to their mouths. They reeled, clutching at each other; and Drake and I, with recovered wits, moved to aid them. But they steadied. They smiled. And they had stopped growing. Dianne, about as tall as I had always remembered her; this other girl, whom she had called Ahlma, a trifle taller; and it seemed, perhaps, a year or two older. A girl singularly beautiful in Dianne's own fashion. Golden hair like Dianne's. And a crescent on her forehead. But it seemed a paler crescent than Dianne's.

Drake stammered, "Why, Dianne!"

I think he had said that and nothing else half a dozen times before.

The girls were still furtive, apprehensive. Dianne said hurriedly, "Don't question now, Drake. Frank, dear -- stop looking at me like that! Your boat is here?"

I said, "Yes, Dianne."