Demolition Man

"There are some critics who say that this, well, unorthodox, method of

demolition is too dangerous, that the traditional explosives should be

used instead."

"Our simulations show this structure can't be dropped safely the

traditional way.  Buildings that are tall and narrow like this one

have a tendency to fall to one side or another.  When there's a

suitable open space on one side, we can direct the fall appropriately,

but in this neighborhood there's simply not room for a 500-foot

structure to tip over."

"We've learned that there was a last-minute decision to increase the

ceiling from 750 feet to 900 feet.  Would you care to comment?"

"The ceiling will be 900 feet, but I wouldn't call it a last-minute

decision.  It happened that some of our concrete samples came back

from the lab a couple days ago showing a higher strength than we'd

expected for a building of this age.  We wanted to make sure Jason

would have enough power to handle it safely."  Mark smiled.  He was

lying through his teeth, and hoping that the reporter couldn't tell.

She seemed satisfied, though.

"Thank you, Mark, and I'll let you go; I know you have a lot to do."

She turned back to the camera to make her closing remarks.  Mark

turned away, picking up a clipboard at random in order to look busy.

It was true, at least, that explosives wouldn't work for this

building.  It was too tall to be collapsed in on itself, and there

really was nowhere for it to fall.  Ten years ago there would have

been nothing to do but take it apart, beam by beam, an enormously

expensive and time-consuming proposition.  But now there was an

alternative.  Suppose a man could grow to a height of several hundred

feet.  He'd be big enough and strong enough to crush the structure

into itself with his bare hands, keeping it under control as it fell.

It was a ludicrous idea, something no one would have imagined outside

a science fiction story.  Mark's father had bought up the basic

patents five years ago.

His grandfather, who had started the family business, had not

approved.  It was a waste of money, he'd said, the damn thing would

never work.  He'd been wrong about that, at any rate.  The growth ray

worked -- first on inanimate objects, then later on mice and rabbits

and monkeys.  In about a half an hour it was going to be used for the

first time on a human -- Mark's younger brother Jason.

Jason was part of the family business, too.  Like Mark, his childhood

had been spent travelling from job to job, all over the world.  Moving

from school to school all the time made him a target for bullies, and

he'd taken up weight lifting in defense.  Once he was old enough he'd

started working alongside his father and brother.  Now 28 years old,

he'd spent the past 14 or 15 years on the job, except for an intense

three-year stretch at university to get a degree in structural

engineering.  Climbing around in old buildings, lugging equipment, and

wielding a sledgehammer to smash out holes for explosives in concrete

had all toughened his body -- he was a 250-pound bruiser, a tower of

hardened muscle.  His handsome chiseled features conveyed power and

confidence in a way that made him seem even bigger than his

six-foot-four stature.

Mark felt vaguely jealous of Jason.  He had wanted to be the first to

try the new technique.  But practical concerns had intervened.

Actually dropping the building was just one piece of the overall

puzzle -- and Mark was more experienced at running the show on the

ground.  Also, though Mark concealed it well, he'd never been wild

about heights.  Inside buildings was fine, but the prospect of looking

straight down at the ground from that high up was unsettling -- he

wasn't sure he'd be able to perform.

There was another reason, perhaps the most important reason, though

Mark didn't like to think of it that way.  Like it or not, this job

was as much a publicity exercise as a demolition contract -- and while

Mark was big and strong like his younger brother, and not bad-looking

at all, he didn't come close to matching Jason's stunning good looks.

A handsome young man, a billboard-sized company logo emblazoned on his

mighty chest, was just the image they wanted to project.  That,

incidentally, was the real reason they raised his height ceiling from

750 to 900 feet.  At 750 feet he'd be strong enough to do the job, but

neighboring buildings might obscure the spectators' view.  The air was

thick with news choppers from every corner of the country and the

world, and the PR guys wanted to make sure every camera got a good

shot of that enormous logo.  That extra 20% in height, though, meant

an extra 70% in weight, and extra 150,000 tons bearing down through

his two huge feet.  Mark had been opposed at first, but they'd run the

numbers, determined that the soil could take it, so he'd given in,

just as he had when they were selecting who would go up.

He knew that if this first shot went well, he'd get his chance.  There

would be other opportunities.  Actually, it was more than that.  If it

came off successfully, it would revolutionize the industry.  Just

setting it up had been a nightmare -- bribing city officials to get

the necessary permits, taking out an insurance policy that was

probably paying for a new wing of headquarters at Lloyd's of London.

But if it worked, *everyone* would want it done this way -- and while

anyone could buy a case of explosives, only Mark and Jason's family

company had the patented growth ray.

Their grandfather wasn't around.  Mark couldn't remember him ever

missing a job before.  But it was hardly unexpected.  He and Mark's

father, who ran the company now, had argued for weeks about the

technique.  "We don't know what'll happen to a man when he's that

big," Mark remembered his grandfather saying, "least of all you two,"

-- referring to Jason and Mark.  "Destruction's in your blood, boys.

You've been knocking down buildings since you were kids.  I shudder to

think what'll happen when you're able to do it by yourself,

single-handed.  You ever think about that?  If you go through with

this, I won't be anywhere near the place when it happens."

And so he wasn't.  He'd probably gone to their summer home up in

Minnesota.  Mark and Jason had shrugged off the warning.  Mark knew

Jason was a good guy.  He'd been in his share of fights, of course,

but he'd never been especially violent.  He had big fists, though, and

knew how to use them, so you wanted him on your side if he was mad.

But he wouldn't do anything crazy.

With just a few minutes to go, Jason walked into the control room,

situated in a storefront a couple blocks away, with a clear view of

the whole job site.  He was wearing a white t-shirt tucked into his

faded blue jeans.  The shirt was far from skin-tight, but fit well

enough to show his powerfully built upper body.  Massive bulging arms

swung casually at his side.  He wore a pair of steel-toed work boots,

the leather stained and scuffed from hard use.

"Hey, Mark," he said, grabbing a donut from a box on the table.

"Nice of you to join us," remarked his brother, glancing at his watch.

Jason shrugged and laughed.  "Nothin' for me to do, yet!"

Mark chuckled.  "You know the plan, right?"

"Almost.  Just one question -- what are the big 'X's for?"

Mark sighed, looking at his watch again.  "All right, fuck you too.

You know what you're doing.  It's time for you to get to the site,

man.  Good luck."

Jason stuffed the remainder of the donut in his mouth.  "All right,

man, you too."  He left, walking down the street.

Jason positioned himself in front of the emitter as Mark ran through

his final checks.  "Good to go, Jason?"

"Affirmative, control.  I'm taking off my headset now."  Electronics

didn't do too well when grown or shrunk.  For talking to Jason they'd

use a PA system mounted on the neighboring buildings.

Mark did final checks:  electrical systems, communications, crowd

control, underground operations.  There was a countdown.  At the end

of it, Mark pressed the glowing button that activated the growth ray.

The beam's effects were immediate.  The people in the control room

watched as Jason grew rapidly.  His eyes were closed, his handsome

features scrunched up.  From the animal tests they'd done, they knew

the process was painful, though probably not excruciatingly so.  Mark

knew his brother well; he knew Jason wouldn't cry out, would take it

like a man.

Mark felt his own heart pounding in his chest as he watched his

brother grow into a giant.  He glanced down at the console -- 300 feet

and increasing.  He hadn't even reached the top of the target building

yet, and already Jason's size was frightening.  An awed hush had

descended over the crowds watching as the enormity of what was

happening finally settled in.  They'd all known what was going to

happen, they'd all seen the statistics and the artist's depictions of

what it would look like, but all that was a mere shadow of what it was

like to be there, to look up and see his massive form towering over

them.

He'd reached 600 feet now.  Two-thirds of the way there.  His head had

passed the top of the target building.  Mark looked down at the

monitor showing the camera they'd mounted on the roof, watching the

enormous logo on the front of Jason's t-shirt slide past, moving

upward, the bulges of his broad chest hinting at the colossal pectoral

muscles hidden underneath.  Mark moved a control that panned the

remote camera, getting a view of his brother's bulging bare bicep.  As

Jason continued to grow, the bicep on the screen was replaced by the

base of his massive left forearm.  Jason's fists were clenched, the

feeling of fingernails digging into his palm probably distracting a

little from the pain of the growth ray.  His forearm was a rippling

bundle of cables, each as hard and strong as steel.  Mark turned from

the black-and-white monitor to look up at the real thing, hundreds of

feet above them.  Sunlight glinted off the golden hairs of his tanned

arm.

At 800 feet, the growth began to slow as the beam reduced power.  The

numbers on the display still clicked upward, but slower and slower.

850... 875... 890... 900.  Mark heard clicks from the generator as the

whine of the relays began to die down.  After a few seconds there was

total silence in the control room -- everyone was simply staring up at

the gargantuan Jason.

When the beam cut off, Jason relaxed visibly.  His great hands

unclenched.  His massive chest heaved majestically as he took deep,

steadying breaths.  Finally he opened his eyes.  His white teeth

showed in a huge grin as he looked out over the diminutive city.

"I GUESS IT WORKED."  His huge, booming voice echoed through the

canyons of glass and steel.  "YOU THINK I'M BIG ENOUGH?"  He lifted

his colossal arms, showing off pumped biceps the size of mountains,

more than 80 yards around.  As the hulking giant flexed his mighty

guns, he heard the tiny crowd below erupting with cheers.

Mark chuckled -- same old Jason, always ready to show off.  He

switched on the PA.  "Hey there, *little* brother."  He heard -- and

felt -- the thunder of Jason's laughter.  "If you're about done

entertaining the crowd, there's a bit of business we've got to attend

to.  And don't forget to watch where you step."  Jason dropped his

arms, grinning and nodding.

"YEAH, I KNOW."  He had to be careful not to step off the property

where the building was located.  He weighed more than 350,000 tons now

-- just setting one foot down in a city street would pulverize the

asphalt, snap water and gas lines, cave in the sewer or the subway

tunnels.  They were insured, but it would still cost the company a ton

of money.  Each of Jason's tough work boots was now 175 feet long, and

six or seven stories tall, so that meant paying a lot of attention to

where he put his feet.

They'd grown him in a position facing the building, so he shouldn't

have to move much at all.  Mark worried that he'd turn around to face

the spectators, but Jason hadn't moved.  Now, it seemed, he was ready

to get to work.  He squatted a little, hunkering down in front of the

stomach-high tower. 

Jason clenched one house-sized fist and drew it back.  "YOU SURE YOU

DON'T WANT THIS BUILDING, RIGHT?"  Mark glanced around the control

room, looking for go signals from every station.  He spoke into the

mic.  "Affirmative, Jason.  Take 'er down."

This was a family business.  Mark and Jason were third generation.

He'd grown up seeing all manner of buildings demolished with

explosives.  But usually the roar of the exploding charges drowned out

the sound of the structure itself breaking.  So Mark was totally

unprepared for the ripping, tearing crunch of concrete and steel as

Jason smashed his massive fist into the building, squarely in the

middle of the large 'X' they'd painted about ten stories from the top.

It was unimaginably loud.  Jason blasted through the facade easily,

burying his arm in the structure almost up to the elbow.  Mark watched

his gigantic granite-hard triceps rippling and flexing as he worked

his arm around, breaking up the interior of the building.  The young

giant worked on weakening the core of the building, pulverizing dozens

of steel and concrete columns.  When he pulled his arm out, it was

white with the dust of broken concrete.  He clamped his powerful hands

down on opposite edges of the structure's roof and began to crush the

hollowed-out shell in on itself.  After he'd smashed in about the top

quarter of the building, collapsing it inwards, he stopped, pulled his

other fist back, and drove it in, punching it right though the next

'X' down.  The crowd was going wild, roaring their approval with each

devastating destructive blow.

Mark watched his brother tearing down the forty-story building with

his bare hands.  "Watch that panel on the north side," he called,

seeing a piece of one wall start to lean outward.  Jason caught it

easily with one massive hand, crushing it to rubble as he smashed it

back into the rest of the building.  Things were moving fast now.  The

lower columns were starting to buckle under the wildly fluctuating

stresses, but Jason was keeping it under control.  The building was

little more than a knee-high mound of rubble to the giant now, as the

destroyed upper floors came crashing down into the levels below.  Dust

was obscuring the onlookers' views of the action.  He raised one fist

and smashed it down on top, snapping most of the remaining structural

beams and crushing the pile down further.  A few more blows and the

pile was ankle-high.  The operation was a success -- very little of

the debris had gotten outside the fence surrounding the site.  Jason

got back to his feet, towering over the newly emptied city block.  He

lifted one foot and stomped his boot down into the rubble, grinding it

under the massive treads, making sure everything was good and

pulverized so the trucks could haul it away.

A slight breeze carried the cloud of dust off rapidly, leaving Jason

just standing there, grinning.  He dusted off his hands, then reached

down to brush off his boots and the calves of his blue jeans as best

he could.  Now that the building was gone, there was room for him to

turn around and face the spectators.  He lapped up their adulation as

he flexed his massive biceps again, giving them the front view this

time.

Congratulations were being exchanged in the control room.  Mark

pressed the PA button.  "Great job, Jason, that was incredible.

Outstanding work."  He saw his brother nod in his direction.  "So, you

ready to come down now?"

Jason stroked his chin.  "NAH, THIS IS PRETTY COOL.  I THINK I'LL JUST

STAY LIKE THIS."

Mark chuckled.  "Yeah, I bet.  Okay Jason, hang on a second while we

refocus the beam and we'll have you home in a jiffy."

Jason's laughter shook the control room.  "I DON'T THINK SO, MARK --

YOU SEE, I'M SERIOUS ABOUT STAYING THIS WAY."  Mark started to say

something into the mic, but before he could get it out Jason had

stepped forward, raised one gigantic foot over the beam generator,

and--

KA-BOOM!  The projector, about the size of a small truck, disappeared

beneath the enormous mass of one steel-toed boot.  The crowd cheered

again, thinking this was part of the plan.  Laughing, Jason ground his

boot down into the ground, the thick treads gouging out a huge crater

in the earth.  When he lifted his foot to look underneath, the

intricate machine had been reduced to a wafer-thin metal snowflake in

the dirt.

Mark couldn't believe what Jason had just done.  "Jason!  Stop!!  What

are you doing?"

Jason snorted.  "PRETTY MUCH WHATEVER I WANT."  He turned to look down

one of the broad streets leading away from the demolition site.  The

area had been cordoned off; hundreds of spectators were behind a row

of sawhorses about four blocks away.  Grinning down at them, Jason

reached down and pulled his company t-shirt out of his waistband.  The

people cheered as Jason slowly stripped off the shirt, tossing it

casually aside.  It landed in the ruins of the building, acres of

fabric covering the mound of broken steel and concrete.

Jason's naked torso was stunning.  The women of the crowd (plus quite

a few men) went wild as they watched him.  His stomach was a solid

six-pack surrounded by bridge-cable obliques.  His pecs were broad,

square, and massive, covered lightly in dark hair that ran down to his

waistline.  Muscular arms, still pumped from the workout of

pulverizing a whole building, hung from enormous rounded deltoids.

His upper body tapered beautifully down from broad shoulders and wide,

thick lats to his well-proportioned waist.

He looked down at the crowd.  "WE'VE GOT A SPECIAL TODAY," he boomed.

"PAY FOR ONE BUILDING, GET THE WHOLE CITY DONE FOR FREE."  As he said

this, he took a step towards the crowd.  His foot came down in the

deserted street, crushing traffic lights and streetlamps down like

blades of grass and sinking a huge crater in the asphalt surface.  A

few spectators cheered, but most started to glance nervously at one

another, wondering what he meant by that.  The confusion turned to

panic as Jason turned to another nearby building and drove his fist

into it.

The second building was glass and steel affair, very modern, just a

few years old.  Jason's blow to its midsection shattered almost every

window in the structure, showering the streets below with shards of

glass.  Even the densest people watching knew that something was going

terribly wrong.  People started to run as Jason demolished the second

building, laughing maniacally.

The building shuddered and rocked as Jason's blows tore into it,

slicing the steel frame to ribbons.  Finally the structure could take

no more.  With an agonizing shriek of tortured steel, the top half of

the building bent over, snapping off about halfway and crashing into

the street below.  Rubbing his fist with satisfaction, Jason turned

and started laying into the next handy building.

The control room had gone crazy when Jason attacked the second

building.  His back was turned to them now, they could see his massive

bulging shoulder blades pumping as he pummeled one building after

another.  Mark was screaming into the mic, begging his brother to stop

his rampage, but his words had no effect.  Jason either couldn't hear

him or was ignoring him, because he was still moving down the street,

leaving a trail of damaged and destroyed buildings in his wake.

He reached the now-abandoned spectator cordon, not even noticing as a

few parked cars were crushed flat under his boots.  He was more

interested in the buildings.  Those near the original site had been

evacuated, but these hadn't been.  Through hundreds of windows, he

could see people running for their lives.  He smashed up the buildings

anyway, simply not caring about the dozens or hundreds he massacred

with each punch.

With a swipe of one hand, Jason's massive fingers clawed out a big

section of the front of one building.  He could see furniture and

bodies falling where he'd ripped the floor deck away.  One tiny man,

maybe half an inch long, landed on the back of Jason's hand.  He might

still have been alive, but Jason didn't wait to find out before

pressing one finger down on him, crushing him instantly into a mere

spot of blood.  They were all so weak and inconsequential.

Jason had been moving away from the center of town.  Out here the

buildings were already too small to bother with -- he smashed them to

bits against his shins, hardly even noticing.  He decided to turn and

head back, to where the bigger skyscrapers were.

Half the company staff had abandoned the control room.  Mark had

stayed behind, though there was little he could do about the

situation.  Nothing could stop Jason.  It would take months to build

another growth ray to shrink him back down.  He didn't know if even

the military had the firepower to take him out.  He watched numbly as

his gargantuan brother wrecked building after building, killing untold

thousands.  At one point Jason stepped right in front of the building

where the control room was located.  There was a sickening crunch as

the vehicles parked in front were crushed beyond recognition.  Through

the large windows they could see nothing but a wall of boot leather.

The building shook as if Jason had struck it, but if he did it was a

light blow.  Maybe he remembered his family and friends in the ground

floor room.  For whatever reason, though, he chose not to level the

building.  The boot moved on, and they felt the ground shake as it

impacted heavily a few hundred yards farther on.

There were only two buildings taller than Jason to begin with, and he

decided that that was two too many.  He made his way back, towards the

nearest one, smashing up everything in his path.  Once he reached a

point where two chest-high buildings faced each other across a narrow

street.  Rather than simply turning sideways to squeeze through, Jason

destroyed them.  He put one hand on each, pushing outwards with his

muscled chest and arms, toppling both of the unfortunate structures

out onto their neighbors.

Mark ran out of the control room and started chasing his brother,

trying vainly to catch up with Jason's 500-foot strides.  He was

yelling as loud as he could, trying to get his gigantic brother to

notice him, but his voice was drowned out by the crunching and

grinding of concrete and steel as Jason ransacked downtown.  The

streets here were deserted, littered by the huge chunks of rubble that

had rained down from above.  Mark looked up.  No building was left

untouched.  Some had been leveled completely, while others escaped

with merely having their facades smashed open by a massive fist or

two.  Mark had to dodge the gaping craters left by Jason's boots as he

ran after the giant.

Jason reached the nearest of the city's two tallest buildings.  It was

a thin, almost delicate-looking spire of steel and glass.  Though it

edged him out in height, the building looked puny and fragile compared

to his massive muscular bulk.  He threw a punch, striking the building

at about chest-height.  Shards of glass rained down from the windows

as the building cracked in two, the upper section spinning back,

smashing itself harmlessly to bits against Jason's massive forearm.

Harmlessly for him, that is, but fatal to those caught underneath as

tons of twisted steel girders crashed down to the ground.

He thundered over to the other building.  Ramming one fist in about

midway up it, he caught the top in his other huge paw.  His muscles

flexed as he ripped the top half free, raising it high above his head.

Bits and pieces broke off as he pressed it upwards, bouncing

harmlessly off Jason's shoulders and chest.  Turning, he reared back,

and with a mighty roar hurled the forty-story section into the

distance.  It sailed for almost half a mile before slamming into the

ground, obliterating a block of homes as it gouged out a huge trench

in the earth.

As he started to turn back to the remaining stump, he spotted a

solitary little man running through the deserted streets.  He was

coming *towards* the giant -- probably so terrified he couldn't think

straight, thought Jason.  Forgetting the building for a moment, he

took a step in the man's direction, planting one massive boot right in

his path.  With his hands on his hips, Jason laughed as he raised his

other boot high in the air, preparing to stomp the little guy into

oblivion.

Mark abandoned the control room and ran down the bombed-out street,

trying to reach his rampaging brother, hoping to talk some sense into

him.  As he got closer he saw his brother tear off half of a

skyscraper, his powerful upper body twisting as he tossed it away.

Mark covered his head as the ground all around him was pelted with a

hail of small pieces of debris, probably no more significant than dust

to Jason.  Mark couldn't see where the huge piece of building came

down, but he heard the terrific crunch as it crash-landed.

Mark's throat constricted as he realized he'd been spotted.  Jason was

looking straight down at him, but didn't seem to have recognized his

own brother.  Mark stopped cold and started to wave and shout as Jason

took one earth-shattering step towards him.  He raised his foot to

crush his tiny sibling underfoot.  Mark looked around, but there was

nowhere to go to escape that 50-yard long boot.  He raised his hands

futilely, closed his eyes, and...

CRUNCH.

Mark was thrown to the ground.  The air around him was choked with

dust.  He rolled over onto his back, and as the dust slowly settled,

he could see the side of Jason's massive boot towering over him.

"HEY THERE, MARK," rumbled an impossibly deep voice from the sky.

"ALMOST DIDN'T RECOGNIZE YA THERE, MAN -- YOU GOTTA BE MORE CAREFUL!"

Jason's chuckle shook the rubble scattered around Mark.  The air

became clearer, and Mark could make out the impossibly huge muscled

torso of his brother as he squatted down.

"CLIMB UP."  Jason's hand slammed into the pavement, knuckles down,

shattering the concrete and pushing down into the ground far enough so

that Mark could scramble onto the top.  Mark quickly looked around,

but it was hopeless.  Jason's tone of voice brooked no disagreement --

he didn't have much of a choice.  Limping a little, he climbed onto

Jason's pinky and made his way down to the expansive palm.

"FUCKIN' AWESOME, ISN'T IT?" boomed Jason.  His other hand appeared

out of nowhere, holding a slightly battered city bus.  It was empty,

but Mark still winced as Jason crushed it like a scrap of paper and

tossed it away.  From what he'd seen today, it wouldn't have mattered

to Jason if there had been people on it -- he might even have

preferred it that way.

But Mark seemed to get special treatment.  Instead of crushing him

with one finger, like he could have, Jason slowly got to his feet.  He

had to move slowly to avoid injuring the fragile little man in his

hand.  Even so, the upwards ride was unpleasantly nauseating.  Mark

watched his brother's massive quads flexing as he stood, the huge

bulges easily visible easily through the jeans.  Then he was lifted

past Jason's colossal abs, each muscled brick bigger than a house, and

past the broad, hairy pecs.  For a second Mark thought his brother was

going to stuff him into a cavernous hairy armpit, but then Jason

tipped his hand slightly, dumping his miniscule brother out on the

narrow ledge where his right deltoid bulged out from the base of his

towering trapezius.  There was nothing to grab onto, but Mark was tiny

enough relative to his brother that this spot was relatively safe, as

long as Jason didn't lean over too far.  He stayed back from the edge,

trying to press himself into Jason's rock-hard flesh.  The skin felt

like warm granite.  He could feel the distant thudding of Jason's

pumping heart through his chest.

Mark looked up, but could only see the underside of Jason's big square

jaw jutting out from his thick corded neck.  Then Jason turned to look

down at him, and the gigantic voice battered him like a sledgehammer.

"GRANDPA WAS RIGHT, MARK.  IT IS IN OUR BLOOD."  With that his fist

shot out, striking the building he'd decapitated a minute ago.  The

remainder of the facade exploded into a million pieces as Jason

punched into it.  He worked his fist around inside, pulverizing it

from within.  When he wrenched his dust-covered hand out, the weakened

building toppled, collapsing onto its smaller neighbors.

Jason began to move again.  Mark could feel the shock of each massive

stride striking the ground.  He left the downtown area, now little

more than heaps of rubble.  His boots crunched their way through

residential neighborhoods, crushing half a dozen homes flat with each

step, but Jason hardly seemed to notice.  Mere houses, like the tiny

people that lived in them, were too insignificant to be concerned

with.  He looked back up, towards the horizon.

They had reached the edge of town, leaving a wide path of destruction

behind them, before Mark spoke up.  "What are you doing, Jason?  Where

are we going?"

Jason looked down and grinned as he moved into a forested area, mowing

down trees like blades of grass.  "WE'RE GOING HOME, MARK -- BACK TO

WHERE THERE ARE PLANS AND TOOLS FOR BUILDING THE GROWTH RAY."

"Why?"  Had his brother finally come to his senses?  Or maybe -- Mark

feared -- he wanted to grow even larger.

"WHY, MARK?  JESUS, MAN, DON'T YOU WANNA JOIN ME?  IT IS A FAMILY

BUSINESS, AFTER ALL!"

                           the end