Fantastic Voyage: Microcosm
little…
    A miracle cure, indeed.
    Quiet now, Devlin led the UFO expert to a lift cage. He tried to focus his thoughts, get back to business. “You'll see everything with your own eyes soon enough, Mr. Freeth.”
    Freeth gripped the metal bars as the caged elevator dropped into the deepest levels. Devlin ushered him into well-lit tunnels that smelled of paint, lubricants, and recycled air. “Are you ready?”
    Freeth nodded vigorously, still out of his depth, but refusing to admit it.
    The last set of smooth-bore tunnels looked like an underground hospital corridor. Ahead was a Class IV isolation chamber large enough to be an operating theater, complete with an observation deck at the ceiling level. Thick bullet-proof glass windows and armor-reinforced access doors surrounded the chamber. Armed Marines nodded to Devlin as he approached.
    “There you go, Mr. Freeth. I hope your expertise serves us well. The team is going inside this afternoon.”
    Freeth stepped gingerly forward, cautious but curious. He placed his palms against the large windows, like a child staring into a closed toy store.
    In the middle of the isolation chamber, surrounded by sophisticated analytical and medical apparatus, sat a sealed cylindrical case like a coffin, or a lifesupport capsule. Its angles and curves seemed entirely wrong, and the side walls were marked with stylized hieroglyphics. It did not belong among the chrome and polished surfaces prevalent inside the Proteus Facility.
    Visible through the capsule's transparent side and top walls lay a motionless humanoid form, fragile-looking and gray-skinned. It had an enlarged head, similar to those of the alien visitors that had become so popular in the tabloids. The enormous eyes were gently closed in sleep, or death.
    “Holy shit! Is this for real?”
    “It's very real, Mr. Freeth.” Devlin saw that the UFO expert was gibbering with excitement and pale with shock. “I—uh, hope you brought along a clean pair of undershorts.”
    “I can't believe it. Holy shit !”
    “And we need you to help us figure it out. You'll be part of the team.”
    Devlin looked up as redheaded Dr. Trish Wylde, the Proteus chief pathologist, came running down the hall. Trish was also trained in miniaturized missions, though she hadn't been chosen for the upcoming exploration. Her narrow face bore a look of alarm. “Major Devlin, you've got to go see Director Hunter. There's been an emergency.”
    He was instantly alert, ready to respond. Perhaps Felix wasn't just being frazzled after all. “What kind of emergency?”
    “It's Captain Wilcox. The doctors don't think he'll lose his leg, but he's definitely not flying the mission this afternoon.”
    Devlin's heart turned to lead. “Roger that. I'm on my way. Trish, please see to Mr. Freeth. He needs a jumpsuit in his size. Try to run him through a simulation or two before it's time.” He stopped and spun halfway around. “Whoa, I didn't even tell him about the miniaturization yet. He needs a briefing before we go inside the alien.” Devlin raced off to where he could find the Director.
    “Miniaturization?” Freeth said. “Going inside the alien? What is he talking about?”
    Trish Wylde smiled at the UFO expert, taking him by the arm. “You're going to be reduced to the size of a cell so you can join a microscopic exploration team that's going to be inserted directly into the alien's bloodstream. The rest of us envy you the opportunity.”
    Freeth's mouth opened, closed, and opened again. “But that's… ridiculous. Shrinking a person down to a dust speck—”
    “Smaller, actually.”
    “But that's preposterous! It can't be done.”
    Trish Wylde arched her thin eyebrows. “Says the man who believes in alien abductions?” Freeth reddened, but couldn't counter her argument. She nudged him down the corridor. “Aren't you glad you agreed to come along?”
    Chapter 8
    Thursday, noon
    The main miniaturization lab was the crown jewel of Project Proteus,

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