Sensus Supra: The New Girl: Sensus Supra, #1

By R.B. Ashton

In a college where students change size, it's survival of the biggest…

 

Alicia has been exiled to St Fiacre's College for Women of Unreliable Size, a place for students with a unique affliction – they shrink or grow without warning. She just wants to complete her studies and get back home, but her exams are the least of her problems.

 

At St Fiacre's, there are rumours of students going missing, possibly even dying. Vicious popular girls take full advantage of the size-warping affliction, and the teachers aren't much better. Navigating social cliques is hard enough at the best of times, but in St Fiacre's the weak are prey.

 

If Alicia is going to last the semester – or even a week – she needs to make friends fast. But her roommate takes an instant dislike to her and her classmates have enemies of their own.

 

Can she avoid the mad clutches of her fellow students and the corrupt teachers – or is she going to end her studies as someone's lunch?

 

This thrilling first book in the Sensus Supra series is perfect for fans of shrinking and kaiju horror mixed with college drama and women with fierce attitudes! It comes complete with two bonus short stories, The Opportunist and A Night At the Pub. Read it today!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Neringa Press
• Release date: Mar 7, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201054984

Book preview

A Brief History of Xm-96

IN 1996, A GROUP OF asteroids broke up in the atmosphere over Mexico and brought a big change. Scientists detected alien spores, dubbed Particle Xm-96, but could say nothing about their properties – except that they quickly spread, and could soon be found in the air all over the world. For four years, studies produced no useful results on the nature of Xm-96, but at the turn of the millennium something remarkable happened. People started to change size, and it was quickly noticed that those who were afflicted (dubbed changers, in the English-speaking world) had a high concentration of the alien spore in their system.

The changes were unpredictable both in effect and in duration. It affected more women than men, mostly across adult ranges between 18 and 50, with some variance, and was linked to both hormonal and emotional triggers. During the year 2000, it is estimated that between 15 and 20 people grew, with heights varying between 9ft and 100ft. Over 20 people shrank, to between 1ft and a microscopic level. The shrinking number might be much higher, as it is likely many changers fell victim to the much smaller size and disappeared.

These size changes have been known to last days, weeks, or even longer. The shortest recorded change was Agatha Brundi, who grew 20ft tall for only 8 minutes. On the other hand, some changers have never returned to normal. This was not a huge problem, with the small number of giants and tiny people taken care of as they were studied or otherwise put on show, but in 2016 the number suddenly started increasing. From a few dozen annual cases, globally, we suddenly saw dozens each month. The explanation was evident in their ages: the bulk of new changers were 17 or 18 years old. This has remained true for the last two years.

The conclusion is simple: children conceived around the time of the spores’ arrival, or since, have started to reach adult maturity, and something is activating to hit them with a greater incidence of this affliction. Yet there is no telling who will succumb to these changes. Young adults are growing or shrinking without warning, all over the world.

The international response has been fairly uniform: even in the most progressive countries, it is considered best to segregate size-changers. In the worst cases, they are confined, even imprisoned (which the UN and various activist charities have vigorously protested). Many are afraid of these changers – and with good reason. A high percentage of changers develop strong personality shifts and many become aggressive. Most famously, waitress Bell Sanchez stormed through Mexico City in March, 2018, on what could only be described as a rampage.

For the most part, however, the international community strives to deal with the changers in a calm and responsible manner. They have been grouped together in colleges where they are trained to control themselves (alongside their regular studies). These colleges are rare and highly secretive, for the students’ own protection: as far as is publicly known, there are two in Europe, three in America, two in Africa and at least three in Asia. So far, no students have graduated from these schools, as it were, and many lose contact with friends and family back home (some go in with such expectations), but in the three years since their establishment there have been many positive reports from them.

The public, of course, is enthralled by the prospect and the colleges have to be fiercely defended from tourists and anti-changer activists alike. For the most part, however, the students and teachers only wish to be left alone, with the promise that the success of their isolated communities will one day help wider integration. Of course, only those on the inside know exactly how successful these communities currently are – or how dangerous.

I am particularly interested, myself, in St Fiacre’s College for Women of Unreliable Size, which is the most local institution to me, said to be secluded in the Scottish Highlands. Reportedly, the women there live in an idyllically situated chateaux, but there are rumours that the college also has an incredible structure specifically for those of size. It is, however, an anomaly that has not been photographed (or the photographs have been classified), and we are yet to see any so-called students return to wider society. There may be as many as 300 young women living there, perhaps more, with a small and quiet faculty of teachers and custodians. What are they doing? What has become of them?

It is nice to think, of course, of all these afflicted women getting the help they need, and preparing to lead more robust lives once they are ready to return to society. But they are isolated, shrinking and growing all together relatively unchecked by the outside world. Wouldn’t you like to take a look behind St Fiacre’s doors? I certainly would.

— Prof M. Lindsey, 2019

1

ALICIA VINCENT HAD no idea what to expect from St Fiacre’s College, but if the grim-faced antique Bentley driver and the twisting approach through the mountains was anything to go by, it was going to be a colossal bore. The narrow roads wound between spiky trees and sheer rock faces, occasionally skirting the side of a mountain, and gave an impression of about as remote a place as one could get. Maybe there wasn’t even a college up here, and this was just a ruse to get her to a secluded spot to dump her body.

Some people were concerned that Changer Colleges hid such dark secrets. There was no telling, as most changers never came back – but then, most people considered that a good thing. When girls started succumbing to the Xm-96 Hiccups, as they were commonly called, society considered them better off out of sight. Alicia’s own parents hadn’t been able to hide that look in their eye when they’d left her at the airport. Relief. Their unstable daughter was going far, far away. Even though she hadn’t actually done anything except break a few plates and give everyone a small surprise.

Or a big surprise, she supposed. Big was the word . . .

It didn’t matter. Girls who caught the Hiccups had to be taken somewhere that could properly accommodate them; that was the line they were all fed. St Fiacre’s was ideally suited for such a task, one of the only facilities of its kind in the world. Nestled deep in the Scottish Highlands, it took in the vast majority of women who succumbed to the ailment across Europe, and had an excellent program for rehabilitating them. So they said.

In fact most of our residents, the lady on the phone had cheerily assured Alicia’s family, "choose to stay on at the college. They’re just more comfortable here."

Alicia could not imagine comfort lying at the end of this road.

Brenton, the driver, had been waiting at Inverness Airport in a stiff burgundy suit, gaunt and sallow-faced. He most likely belonged to a long line of humourless man-servants. Even his Bentley, an extravagant old car, looked like it had long past the need for retirement. The transport, combined with the long, wild approach to the college, warned Alicia that the college was most likely a windowless hermit’s cabin with no heating, no electricity and cobwebs in every corner.

They turned a final corner, though, and Alicia was drawn to the window with a gasp. The college was revealed in one extravagant sweep, as they drove along a ridge above it, before the road descended towards it. Three large buildings, sitting between a creek on one side and cliffs on the other, with woodland to the rear. A great stone fountain sat in the large courtyard before it, and a turning circle separated the buildings in a horseshoe. There was an old stone hall with an arched tile roof which sat between a large, complex castle structure to the right, with turrets on two corners and tall windows, and a contrastingly simple box of a building on the left, flanking the mountains. The boxy building stood out most: it dwarfed everything.

It was an unimaginative cuboid, brick with sparse, high up windows, and was possibly the largest single building Alicia had ever seen. She shifted in her seat to keep staring as the car turned down the approaching road. It was like an enormous warehouse, but it stretched further back than any building had a right to. Maybe two hundred feet tall, possibly more, and who knew how long. A mile, Alicia jokingly suggested to herself. But it might be. It continued back into the rocks, possibly into the mountain itself, and it made the rest of the college look like a dollhouse. As Brenton drove closer, the building’s scale only got more daunting, looming taller and taller, until Alicia felt toy-like herself, looking up at it. The building had one enormous metal door, big enough for a person of absolutely giant proportions.

Which was, of course, the whole point.

Brenton parked on the other side of the fountain, before the old school hall, and grunted to say they had arrived. Alicia clambered out of the car to move towards the huge building, mouth open as she gaped. She was only dimly aware of Brenton huffing about at the back of the car, carting out her bags, as footsteps approached.

Magnificent, isn’t it? a lady’s voice said, with a slight Scottish accent.

It’s massive, Alicia replied, rather the least intelligent or insightful response she could muster. She shook herself out of the awe and turned to the speaker. The woman was a good six inches shorter than Alicia, who stood a healthy 5’7 herself, and she wore thin round glasses and a fine brown suit, well-fitted to her trim figure. Her sleek black shoes pointed out from flared trouser-legs, and she had long, straight brown hair that hung shiny and neat across her shoulders. She was in her 30s or possibly early 40s.

A pleasure to meet you Alicia, the woman said, holding out a hand. I’m Principal Muir. She had a friendly smile, with bright eyes and good skin, definitely young-looking for a principal. Alicia shook her hand; Muir had a strong, confident grip. I trust the journey was smooth?

Very, I think so, Alicia said. She looked past Muir, to see Brenton carrying her bags inside, and noticed they were not alone. The old hall building had a pair of glass doors that entered onto a reception area, where the shapes of other girls were gathered inside, watching. Outside the door stood a young lady with her hands in her pockets, wearing smart trousers and a white blouse with suspenders, and a top hat that barely contained her frizzy black hair. She could almost be a magician. Alicia gave her a small wave and she smirked back, amused rather than friendly.

That, Muir said, is Topper. She’ll be your guide, mentor and Buddy, as it were.

Alicia could hear the capital B and asked, As in, Buddy System?

Quite so, Muir said, maintaining her smile. It wasn’t so friendly either, Alicia realised now, and with