Title: Terror-Go-Round, the alternative universe ending
Chapter: Five
Author: Squeezynz
Rating: PG

.......everyone wanted to run away to circus, didn't they ?...

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Betty flexed her the cramped muscles in her leg, her toes curling in the thick cushioning that surrounded her. The novelty of resting on satin cushions was fast wearing thin, her normally active lifestyle making her ill-equipped to deal with enforced idleness. Aisha had followed Hach's instructions to the letter and allowed Betty out when she requested, but the giantess permitted her charge no more than the bare minimum of time outside the glass jar. The only exercise being the short walk to and from the bathroom. Now the morning was stretching towards midday and Betty felt almost catatonic with boredom. Her eyes where half closed in a semi-doze when a noise drew her attention to the room beyond the glass, her eyes lighting up at the sight of Hach's huge bulk entering the caravan. Hach dropped the sack he'd been carrying and came over to the table with flattering alacrity.

"So how is my beautiful Bashrina ?" he asked, leaning on his folded arms to bring his face close to Betty's genie bottle.

"I'm stiff and bored," said Betty, getting to her feet and approaching the glass wall closest to the giants face.

"I'm sorry that I was away so long, I had to have a meeting with the Ringmaster to discuss your future," said Hach, his eyes apologetic.

"Do I have a future?" muttered Betty, her sarcasm not lost on her captor.

"Indeed, you could have the brightest of futures, but not with a long face like that. Your audience will expect a creature of beauty and grace, not ill temper and scowls."

"I'm not a toy you can wind up and show off, I'm a person, a human being," cried Betty, her clenched fist hitting the glass wall in a gesture of frustration and fear. Hach only looked on impassively, his dark features sympathetic but unwavering.

"You are what you make of your opportunities. Forget your past life, make the most of what you could have here, with me. You will be rich, cared for, never lacking for anything,"

"Just my freedom, my friends," shouted Betty in defiance before losing her composure completely and bursting into tears. With her face buried in her hands she didn't see the look of compassion cross her keepers face, nor did she notice when he lifted the top half of the glass bottle away, leaving Betty exposed. With infinite care, Hach reached out and picked Betty up, cradling her in his hands. His skin was warm and after the initial shock, Betty calmed, the fact that Hach did nothing more than hold her in his open palm and watched while she mopped her face and sniffed loudly helping her settle. Hach cupped his two hands together so that the palms faced him and then propped his elbows on the table to brace them. Betty now sat in the curve of his hands, looking up at the dark face above her. It struck her anew that, if he shaved off the dense black beard, Hach would be a very handsome man....for a giant.

"How old are you ?" Betty blurted out, her question taking them both by surprise.

"I am old enough to know the world, and young enough to still be reckless," said Hach, his lips stretching into a smile.

"That's not an answer," said Betty, " I asked, because if you shaved off that awful beard, I'm sure you'd look alot younger,"

Hach threw back his head and laughed in delight.

"You don't like my beard ?"

"I think you'd look better without it,"

"Women....whatever the size, they always try to manage a man. You'd get on very well with my mother."

"I'm sorry if I've offended you," said Betty stiffly, embarrassed now and not at all sure why she asked the question in the first place.

"Oh no, beautiful one, you didn't offend me, and you are right, I'm sure I would be a very handsome fellow if I got rid of my itchy beard, but then no-one would take me seriously, and my fierce reputation would be in tatters."

"Fierce reputation ?" Betty echoed, her mouth going dry.

Hach only chuckled at her expression, his hands shaking slightly with his laughter.

"Didn't I mention that before ?" Seeing Betty shake her head, Hach continued. "Why yes.....I have a reputation for being a wild man, untameable and therefore not the right material for a husband."

"Oh...don't you want a wife....a family ?"

"I have my work, I have Aisha...and the circus is all the family I need,"

"What about Aisha ?" asked Betty, her boldness at her line of questioning surprising her again.

"She has me to care for..what more could she want. Plus she also has the excitement of being the contortionist's assistant when the circus performs, as well as having her own stall, to keep her busy."

For a moment Betty had to remind herself that this wasn't an earth male talking, but a giant who was a product of his planets society and social mores. She had grown use to the level of independence that women on Earth took for granted. Here, it would appear, some of the views on women's roles hadn't advanced past the stone-age.

"But what if Aisha finds someone she want for a husband ?"

"What if she does, I would be happy for her...and take care of myself."

"Sound's pretty lonely to me."

"In a circus ? Here, you are never lonely, there are always people around you, people to talk to, work with, play with, it is the only life."

"But it's not my life," cried Betty, her eyes welling up again in renewed frustration.

"Oh come Bashrina, it is not worth spilling tears over. I know what the problem is, you are scared because you have seen nothing but my gloomy caravan, let me take you on a tour of the circus, I'm sure that will brighten your eyes and enthral your senses."

"Will you take me to see my friends?" Betty asked eagerly, swiping at her cheeks to dry them.

"I told you....they are lost to you now, you have only me and Aisha, be content."

Not waiting for a reply, Hach placed Betty on the table top and ducked down, rummaging inside a large chest out of Betty's sight. Within seconds he's pulled out a black hat, heavily decorated with large white ostrich-like feathers and with a wide up-swept brim. It reminded Betty of a hat she'd seen worn by an actor playing Captain Hook at a pantomime she'd taken one of her nieces to. Hach shook it out and batted at it to shake loose any dust before presenting it to Betty with a flourish.

"Your carriage awaits," he intoned, holding the hat level with the table edge so that Betty could easily step onto the brim. She hesitated and Hach cocked a dark eyebrow.

"You don't like it ?"

"Oh...no...its fine, its just..." Betty indicated her flimsy costume before looking back up at the giant. Hack instantly jammed the hat on his head and spun around, lifting a box down from a shelf and setting it on the table beside the genie bottle.

"These should be roughly your size, take what you want,"

Curious, Betty approached the box and peered, on tip-toe, over the edge. Inside was a huge pile of clothes of all types, from coats to dresses, shoes and other accessories.

"Where did this all come from ?" Betty asked, her hand reaching out to touch the fur trim on one of the coats.

"Aisha used to play with dolls," Hach explained, reaching in to pull out several items of clothing, the fur collared coat included.

"Won't she mind ?"

"I think Aisha has long since grown out of playing with dolls," laughed Hach, using one finger to push the coat closer to Betty.

Biting her lip, but unable to stop herself, Betty reached for the coat, her hand smoothing the silky fur that draped luxuriously around the collar and down the front lapel. The coat was long, reaching below her ankles with cuffs trimmed in the same fur. After pulling the front edges together, she twirled around, the hem swinging out like a cloak.

"It suits you, and should keep you warm enough for our trip outside,"

"Thank you Hach, I love the colour," said Betty, the blue suede-like fabric and blond fur exactly echoing her own colouring of eyes and hair. A simple tie belt kept the garment closed and Betty instantly felt her body start to glow with warmth, the glossy fur tickling her cheeks.

Once more Hach flourished the hat and this time Betty climbed aboard, settling into the space behind the brim, the coat covering her legs as she sat down. Above her head the huge feathers nodded as Hach carefully put on the cavalier hat, adjusting it over his thick black curls. Betty hung on to a thin cord that ran around the inside edge of the brim.

"Hang on well Bashrina, and keep out of sight for the most part, not everyone knows of your existence and the Ringmaster would like to keep it that way until he makes the announcement this evening,"

"Okay Hach....just don't forget I'm up here and take this hat off in a hurry," retorted Betty, her fingers clutching the cord tightly. She felt Hach start to nod his head and then stop.

"Sorry Little One, I will remember, don't worry. Now enjoy the ride, I'm sure that you'll find that it will more than adequately chase away your....boredom,"

Ducking his head, Hach exited the caravan into the bright sunlight, pausing to let his eyes adjust after the dim interior. Betty did the same, using one hand to shield her gaze. Then Hach started walking, carrying his precious cargo on a grand tour of his family and her new world.

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Steve and Dan ducked behind another abandoned box of popcorn, the ground beneath them trembling as a huge, black bearded giant stepped down from the caravan they were hiding under. They watched as the bear of a man sauntered across the small clearing between the trailer, the jaunty feathers in his cavalier hat nodding as he turned to greet other circus dwellers.

"What do you think he does, lion taming ?"

"If they have lions, he'd be the man or maybe he's the sword swallower,"

All through the morning the two men had been tossing suggestions of what each giant might do in the circus, back and forth as they jogged underneath the caravans and trailers. Every time a giant appeared they stopped and watched, hoping that someone would stop to talk about anything to do with Little People, or with luck be seen carrying a capture box or cage. So far they had drawn a blank, the giants only carrying out their normal morning chores with nothing to indicate that Little People were anywhere within the circus grounds.

They were under their third massive caravan, the morning largely gone and their search unrewarded.

"Let's stop here, the giants are too active, we risk being seen."

"But Steve, we haven't seen or heard anything to help us," said Dan, slumping down, his hand automatically reaching up to massage his sore shoulder.

"And getting ourselves caught won't help the situation," replied Steve, a small smile softening his rebuke. They had seen a poster advertising the times of the shows and they still had about three hours before the first afternoon matinee. As Dan had said, their morning's trek had proved fruitless so far, their search of the looming caravans limited at best. Whenever voices were heard above their heads they stopped and listened, but the thick wooden floors made their eavesdropping futile. So far they had avoided any more contact with the native wildlife, picking up discarded provisions as they traversed the vast tract's of shadowed ground. Even now, as they rested, Dan munched on a small kernel of popcorn, bigger than a portable television, that Steve had found only metres away. Steve hoped that they would get a break soon, his worry for their friends eclipsed by his worry for themselves and surviving a night outside without adequate shelter from the elements and the night scavengers sure to roam the circus grounds.

A commotion drew their attention to a more ornate caravan parked across the clearing from their own. A tall, thin man was stepping out of the doorway backwards, his feet finding the metal stairs without a stumble. His arms were flapping as he punctuated his conversation with the caravan's occupant, currently out of view. With a final gesture the man turned and jumped the last step, his tattooed face set in a ferocious scowl. Steve and Dan watched as the man stomped back to another trailer and flung open the door which banged loudly against the metal wall, bouncing back and barely missing the irate giants as he leap up the steps and inside. They had hardly had time to exchange a perplexed glance before the tattooed man reappeared, this time carrying a box in one hand which he swung around as he turned to shut the door behind him. Both men watching realised that at last they had their lucky break. They watched as the thin man marched back to the ornate caravan, his face still scowling, the arm holding the box cage swinging dangerously, and wrenched open the door, thrusting the box into the hands of whoever was standing in the doorway, still hidden from Steve and Dan's watchful gaze. Dusting his hands off and now sporting a satisfied smirk, the tattooed man spun on his heels and walked off, disappearing around the corner of the caravan and out of sight.

"Let's get ourselves over there, if we run to that rubbish bin, then high-tail it past that stack of crates, we'll be hidden in the shadow and safe."

Not waiting to hear Dan's opinion, Steve readied himself for the first run, trusting his co-pilot to keep close behind him. They waited for a female giant to pass before setting off, sprinting across the flattened grass to a large, ugly metal rubbish bin painted with the garish face of a clown. Flattening themselves against the rusty wall, they edged their way around the base, lining up for their next run. Another giant approached and the two men crouched down, making themselves as small as possible. With the motley paintwork behind them they were well camouflaged, the giant passing them by without a glance. Edging to the limit of the bins shadow, Steve looked back only once to check on Dan before setting off on the long run to the pile of crates beckoning a safe haven. Half way there he heard a cry and, looking back, he saw Dan sprawled on the ground, his face contorted in pain, one hand clutching his injured shoulder. Cursing, Steve dug in his toes and raced back to his friend, skidding to his knees beside Dan and grabbing his jacket, ready to haul him to his feet.

"Sorry Steve," Dan gasped, his teeth bared in a grimace of agony. "I tripped, stupid....sorry,"

"Never mind the explanations, get up and get moving," Steve hissed, dragging Dan to his feet and pulling his arm over Steve's shoulders before setting off again, once more heading for the crates and safety. They just reached the deep shadow when ground tremors told them another giant was approaching. Sprawled in the dust they could only lay as still as possible and wait for the danger to pass. To their horror the giant stopped right beside the stack of crates, his shoes scarcely ten feet from where Steve and Dan lay panting under the slight overhang of the unevenly stacked boxes.

Steve started to drag himself along the wall of the crates, his hand clenched on Dan's jacket, pulling him along as well. The two men inched their way to the end of the wooden wall, all the time expecting the giant to look down and see them. When they reached the corner they both let go a huge sigh of relief, their dusty faces still upturned to see what the giant was going to do. To their relief the man merely picked up the topmost crate and carried it away, never realising how close he came to discovering the hideaways.

"That was too close," panted Dan, his dark skin streaked with sweat and dust, his eyes redrimmed. Steve didn't look much better, his red uniform dull with dirt, his face lined with dust and sweat.

"We're almost there, just a dash across to that patch of weeds and we're out of sight again....ready ?"

Receiving a tired nod from his companion, Steve clambered to his feet, reaching out a hand to help Dan up before jogging across the small open space and reaching the dark shadow of the ornately carved caravan that they knew held, in all likelihood, at least some of their missing friends.

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