by P. S. Power
It was impressive, but probably meant he wasn't right in the head. That could be used to turn him, if he got a chance. The problem there was that they weren't really in the same places very often. The morning meditations, where talking wasn't allowed, and at meals.
"Hey. You're Ben, right? I worked that out, since I don't really recognize you."
For a moment he didn't know what to say, since the man was a creepy spy, but it occurred to him that when people said hello, the normal thing to do was say it back.
"Hi! That's right. Pleased to meet you..." He waited, getting a surprise when the man spoke.
"Kent. Kent Hardess. I've seen you at meditations. I... Look this is a bit forward, but, do you... Want to get together sometime? We could talk, or whatever." The promise of sex filled his eyes, which didn't do much for Ben. He was the wrong sex for him to be interested in, as the testing had shown him, painfully.
That seemed close to correct too, since he felt a bit icky inside, just seeing that kind of thing directed at him in the moment. Part of that was probably the man's intent. The issue was that there was almost no way for him to just shut the guy down and not be in the wrong, or give away that he knew as much about him as he did.
It was enough that he took way too long to respond, the man hardening around the eyes. Finally, Ben, not knowing what he was supposed to do, shrugged.
"That sounds fun? I don't get a lot of free time, I hear. I've had some, but I'm learning the contraction exercises in a bit? Also how to run away, in case I ever get attacked. It doesn't sound all that thrilling, but hey, it isn't shoveling snow either, so I'll live. What do they have you doing?"
The words got the man to pat the red band, as if it made any sense to do that with the new guy.
"Patrol. Which is mainly just me walking around and picking up litter, since nothing ever happens out here. I guess if the zombie hordes ever descend on us, we'll be set! No one ever mentions why we practice all that fighting, and shooting. Head shots all the time, too. I used to be in the military, and I swear they didn't work us as hard that way. It's like a group of special forces personnel around here, but they never do anything. Weird, don't you think?"
The man that had claimed the wrong name, since it really wasn't Kent, knew he was trying to move too fast. That was down to the fear that his time was running out. Sabotage, or lying, might work, but if there was no real smoke, he'd end up with a black mark on his record for trying to blow the whistle. Worse, the idiot in front of him was acting like he was on drugs. Not the good ones that the Cymeds gave them either. Stupid pills, or something.
To cover for that, Ben yawned.
"Sorry, I've been tired since I got out of the dark room. I didn't eat the whole time, and it's left me a little run down. Anyway, if I get any time we could hang out? I should probably get out of here and to my first meeting, or I'll end up kicked out. I kind of quit my job to come here, so that wouldn't work well for me, you know?"
"I hear that. I left everything behind, too. I kind of wish I would have done something else now, but... Well, I'm invested. Five years, or it will be in just a few weeks." Which meant that he had a real time schedule to keep, if he wanted to take these people down.
Even if they were just wack-jobs, at least some of them would need to be tossed into prison for something. On the good side he wouldn't even have to feel too bad about that, since they could all fight well enough to keep themselves from being shived or raped. It would give them time to meditate and all that. They all seemed to love that kind of shit. Rich mainly just sat there and followed along with the stretching and muscle crap because it was needed for his cover. A waste of time, as far as he was concerned, but they all did it, every single freaking day.
His tone was almost sweet, as he reached out and put his fingers on Ben's forearm.
"Let's get together? In a few days, if you can get away? We could go into town?"
That there was a town was known to him, having ridden a bus to get there. It was about four or five miles to the paved road however, and about fifteen to that place, unless there was another one in a different direction.
"I haven't left here for a while. I... Don't really know if I'm allowed. No one has ever told me I couldn't, but I should probably ask. Glenda, do you know her?"
The man nodded, the energy coming off of him shifting a little. It was a bit intimidated by the the woman, since she was a lot stronger than most of the others. Three or four times more than he was, and Richard had been given a pretty high end upgrade that way. He looked fit thanks to that, and the constant exercise, but Glenda could rip his head off, if she wanted. Possibly in a literal sense. That meant he was afraid of her, on a deep level.
On the surface however, she seemed nice enough. Friendly and polite.
"She can come too, if she can? No need not to make friends, right?"
Then, thankfully, the man walked away, humming a bit, as if the conversation had left him feeling happy. It hadn't, but Ben was cautiously amused by it. As long as the feds didn't raid them before they were ready, things might actually not be that horrible. If nothing else, Kent there would probably be willing to blow him for information.
Too bad for the spy that Ben wasn't into that kind of thing, he reflected, as he walked over to meet Ali for his meeting. It sounded like a solid plan, corrupting the innocent new guy, after all.
Chapter six
The woman in brown seven had seemed kind before, compared to her current expression. Now she didn't even seem angry, just annoyed that Ben wasn't doing what she wanted. That wasn't for lack of trying on his part. He really was. It just didn't seem to be working.
"Focus on your right bicep and pulse, like I showed you. You're not even recruiting fifty percent of your muscle fibers here." She glared at him, as if it were his fault that his muscles were those of a ten-year-old fat girl.
Trying again Ben bent his arm and really worked hard to make the muscle not only tense as much as it would, but to hold the move and keep increasing the pressure he felt. As he did it the red light laser array hit his moving arm through his shirt, testing him in some way that he didn't understand. Tattling on him, and letting his new potential buddy really understand what a wimp he was. He would have glared at the machine for lying, but it was just doing its job. The failure here was all his. Still, the small box with its dual lenses watched him, focusing on his arm as he tried to do what he was told.
Giving it another try, flexing as hard as he could manage and then making the movement go to even greater heights, Ben grunted.
That one got a sound in return that, while not pleased, was a bit less upset sounding.
"Better. At least in that you're actually improving. I'm going to set the display now. One by one I want you to tense each muscle group as I call them out. The bar in the air will grow, and glow red. The brighter it gets, the harder you're working. The idea is to make it turn solid and get to your own size. Ready?"
He doubted that he was, but nodded anyway. The woman was actually annoyed with him, and it was distracting. Not that his performance was really predicated on her approval. Focusing, he listened to her words, calling out that he needed to flex the back of his right forearm. Then he tried his best, causing the holographic display in front of him to turn a bit of air a very light shade of see through rose color.
It was about three feet high when it happened, which clearly wasn't the goal. Doing what he'd been told, he tried harder, and changed muscle groups on command. By the end of the hour he had it up to nearly four feet high and a good bit brighter, which got a slow, and not all that heartfelt, smile from the scarred woman.
Brushing at her face, almost rubbing at the scar, she nodded.
"Well. That's... A day's work done. You have successfully managed to learn to use your muscles as well as most people do coming in the door. Sixty percent muscle fiber recruitment. At least when you do it well. It's a start, and does show you can learn. By the end of the week I want you to a hundred percent, and the
n we'll start speeding up how fast you can do it. Report here after lunch each day. You won't need me to hold your hand now that the machine is calibrated for you, so if you want to come in for extra practice, do so. It won't hurt to try." Then, as if she were bored with him, or a little frustrated, which honestly seemed to be the case, she waved him away.
The whole thing didn't really leave Ben feeling good about himself. Not that anyone had promised him that in life. Especially these people. They'd said they could teach him, not that he'd learn everything instantly, or be the best at it without effort. It really would have been nicer to make the woman smile, since they were supposed to be working on other projects together soon. Even apathy would have been better. Part of her problem with him was that, he knew.
She was getting one chance to show off her new program idea, and to make it pay off. If she got lame old him as her only test subject and Ben couldn't make it happen, the whole running away thing, then it would probably be scrapped and set aside as unworkable.
He walked out, not feeling great about himself, but knew that all he could do was the best he was able. He had a starting point, and while his joints ached a bit from the effort he'd just put in, going back later in the day when no one was there became the new working plan. If he got the time for it.
The rest of the day was, it seemed, his own to do what he liked with, not having a full schedule yet, so he tried to work out what the best plan would be for that. Really, having had his run in with Kent, there was information to be delivered to someone in charge that could protect them. The whole thing had left him feeling uneasy and a bit shaken, if he were going to be honest. Not that he couldn't write the whole thing off to imagination. That wasn't really the case though, and Ben knew it. Early days or not, he was picking up way stronger signals from people. Things that were more powerful than his imagination ever was.
The thing there was that he didn't know who to get the info to. Glenda came to mind, but she was off in a special section, working on weapons, and while he hadn't been forbidden access to the best of his knowledge, there was a small chance of him being seen going there. If he was being targeted by one spy, there was a small chance that others there might do the same thing. In that case, it would look strange for him to meet up with Kent and almost instantly run off to talk to Glenda. Anyone else too, for that matter. The last few evenings had been spent more or less alone.
Reviewing the people he knew at the compound, he decided that the most likely person for him to try and find really was Glenda. The second most likely would be Micha. She was like him, being all psychic apparently, even if that sounded insane to say still, and was cute. Even if they weren't going to have sex, which was the most likely outcome of any relationship they had, him trying for that would look pretty normal. The trick there was that she, unlike a certain new person, actually had things to do during the day. Work of some kind.
Almost everyone there did something, other than him.
So he tried to think about what would be needed to find her. Then, being careful, he could get her to take him someplace where there were no cameras or spies, so they could brainstorm about how to pass the data he'd picked up along. Trying to cast his mind out, to get a sense of the woman in question did nothing however. She was either out of whatever his range was, or making herself invisible to him that way. He'd barely seen her for days, he realized. That could mean a lot of things, including her not wanting to see him, but that didn't really make sense. After all, she'd have to know that he wasn't going to push her for sex for real. Not with her powers and his low self-esteem.
Smiling, he shook his head, and decided to go for a jog. The very idea was nearly insane, given the rest of his life, but there was nothing else for him to really do, unless he wanted to try locking himself in the deprivation room again. Which was probably an idea, if he couldn't find something better to do. If you could just walk out, Ben was willing to bet his brain would come up with a great reason to do that, rather than stay inside for any length of time.
Even thinking about the place made him want to go and do something else. In this case, jog.
It was mid-afternoon, and at first, for nearly an hour he didn't see anyone else on the running path. That meant the only thing he had for company was the sound of his soft soled running slippers on the packed dirt. He kept to the left hand side, and pushed a bit harder than he had been. That wasn't too hard to manage, and it was still just a slow pace that meant the footfalls behind him came up pretty quickly.
Glancing back he smiled, expecting it to either be Micha, Kent the spy, or someone he didn't know at all. The answer was, to his surprise, different than that. At first he didn't get it, but he recognized the fellow that moved toward him. Rapidly. A lot faster than he would have been able to manage even in a sprint.
Kyle.
Ben smiled a little larger and waved, expecting the man to fly on past, given that he was clearly there to get some exercise and not just kill time. The man stopped though, barely breathing hard at all. No more than a soft panting sound, which was annoying.
It was like everyone there was lining up to point out how physically inferior he was suddenly.
"Ben! I was just reading a report about you earlier. From Glenda? She mentioned that you're progressing faster than expected, at least in telepathic and possibly empathic abilities." The man was very still inside, showing that he was, in some fashion, trying to keep Ben from knowing what he was thinking.
It was working too, which was better than Glenda had managed really. Much so.
"That seems to be the case. I'm also apparently the biggest wimp in the world as far as getting my muscles to work right. Ali was about to toss me out earlier, I think. I did manage to work up to average though, so there is at least that." He grinned, trying not to show how he really felt on the matter, which clearly didn't work. The other man gave him a sympathetic expression that seemed real, even if he couldn't read him clearly at the moment.
"Everyone has strengths and weaknesses. You'll get that one however. Everyone does, we have a good training protocol for that. Are you fitting in here all right? No one is picking on you about anything. Other than your lack of muscle fiber recruitment, I mean? You like the food all right? I know that Glenda has been nearly starving you for a bit. She seems to think that doing that for long enough will help fix your old eating patterns. Who knows, it might work. It isn't what I'd have you doing, but I assigned you to her for a reason. She's good at getting the most from new people."
It flashed in his brain that this man had given him a lot of information, even if he was working to hide what he was thinking pretty well. For instance, he assigned people to things, meaning he might be the one to go to as far as getting a good job there, eventually.
Also, he was old.
If Glenda was ninety, and this man had gray hair and a slightly wrinkled face, while being in charge...
Actually that part meant nearly nothing, since they clearly had the ability to erase the signs and possibly the reality, of getting older there. So he could be the sixty or so he looked like. There was no way for Ben to know that, unless he asked.
"Are you in charge here?" Ben really tried to make himself sound casual, but it didn't work. It came out as suspicious, which, he had to admit, was fair enough. It set the right mood anyway.
The man next to him nodded slightly. It was so little motion that it probably would have been missed by most people. Certainly by him, at least a week before.
"More or less. As much as we have anyone in charge here. Why? Are you looking for a better cabin?" The smile that went with the words was nearly happy seeming, and again, felt real for some reason. Like that would be the actual point of him asking about the man's place in things.
"No. Is there... Someplace we can talk where we won't be monitored?" This came out softly, as a near whisper. Ben didn't know who might be listening or how, so even doing that much was a risk. For his entire life the one thing that he, and everyone had always kno
wn was that everything was seen and heard. All of it. There was almost no escape. The sky above was overcast, which could be enough to keep the satellites from seeing them. Not that anyone could easily listen from space. It was supposed to be doable, using laser systems, but no one would bother doing that with him.
That left about a dozen things that he didn't even know about Ben bet. People with microphones, or some kind of special gear that could pick up thoughts all the time. That might be why the man next to him was shielding so hard. It had seemed to be related to him, but might not be. That had coincided with the man slowing in his run, for instance, which...
That kind of made some sense. When he was moving it would be very hard for anyone to pick up anything in particular. Holding still, or nearly so, then that kind of thing might be able to pick up what was going on in his head. All the secrets of the organization. So the head person would need to be able to do things like that pretty well. They all should learn, if they could.
There was a soft nod again and the smallest flick of a finger.
"Up ahead, under the trees. This way." The words were conversational, and other than as simple instructions devoid of meaning.
It was smart really. If he were, say, going to complain that Ali was being mean to him, or that he needed more food, he might get the man alone like that. Not whining in public made sense to him anyway. For all he knew that was what Kyle figured was going on here. Ben wanting to vent, or bitch about something. Possible wanting to leave, or even just go off into town and get drunk. He'd never asked about that, since drinking had been a thing that he'd always avoided doing for some reason. Not that he didn't know why that was. His father had trouble with that kind of thing, or had when he was younger, so had let him know from an early age that the best plan for him, being genetically identical, was to simply never start the habit.
They jogged along in silence, the grass at the edge of the trail being a golden color. There wasn't a lot of rain, or hadn't been before that point, and it was fall. The breeze was cool as it picked up. They were, he thought, about to get rained on. It felt like they had about ten minutes however.