by P. S. Power
The big problem there was that he felt like he was starving all the time now. It was probably due to his body trying to change so fast, but he felt nearly helpless in front of the desire to eat. Plus, his head hurt. Constantly, and it wasn't blinding pain, but it was annoying, and didn't go away except as he slept each night.
Everything else ached too. Muscle wise. No one pushed at him to do anything however, even as he built back up after his long fast and isolation. Finally, bored enough to want to do pretty much anything, Ben waited until after morning meditations, that being what everyone called the exercises they all did, and waved at Glenda as she tried to find the main door.
They didn't talk during the thing, unless they were the ones giving the instructions. That seemed to change every day. So far no two people had led them twice. They'd been people he didn't know so far, but Ben hadn't exactly introduced himself to everyone. That seemed to be the common thread there. The idea being that, if they were ever caught and tortured for information they couldn't give away what they didn't know.
He smiled, which caused his head to hurt more than a little, as the large woman flowed across the floor toward him. She pasted a smile on her face, but was worried about him. That was due to the fact that no one really knew if the treatment he'd been given would kill him, or drive him insane instantly or not.
"You know, setting up more people with lower level skills makes sense. I get the drive to be the best and go big with all of this, but a thousand people with a ten percent edge due to empathy or precognition is still an edge." Then he shook his head, the woman staring at him.
"Sorry, Glenda. I meant to say, hey, how have you been? Long time no... Talk. I've seen you every morning. When do I start the training? I know that I'm not up to superhuman physical effort, but there should be some things that don't require that?"
She was uneasy, since she understood that he'd picked up what she was thinking, which started a loop in her brain. Then, thankfully, it eased, with her focusing on a brick wall. It didn't really hide all that was going on inside of her, but the data didn't slap at his head either, which was good.
Far nicer for him, anyway.
Finally, she nodded, her smile still concerned.
"We can start as soon as you feel up to it? I didn't know if you'd want people around. Some of the other psychics had issues with being near people for a while. Micha still does, sometimes. So does Clark. He's... Well, not sane, even though he mainly seems all right to talk to. Our best telekinetic so far, but he pretty much lives alone, back in the woods. I should take you out there to meet him, eventually. For now... Well, if you can handle it, we need contractile training first, then to start in on combat oriented stuff. Ali said she wanted to work with you, since you don't seem to be an idiot like the rest of us." She grinned, knowing that the woman was far more concerned with teaching people to run away than fight.
Glenda knew that one, first hand. Running away meant you lived. Fighting machines or armored troops, even the police, meant you didn't. They had a program that trained people to fight, so they did, but the ones that ran did better, when things came up. It was a weakness in their people that she wanted to get rid of, even though she knew that no one else, other than Ali, would be able to get behind it. They were, in the main, too tough for their own damn good.
All of the data was simply there for him, even as her wall was still being built, brick by brick, as she considered the whole thing.
It would have been weird, but it really wasn't for him. It just felt like he was thinking the things himself, and had the needed memories. Which, given that his full powers that way probably wouldn't kick in for over a year, was daunting. If he had it right, then he was probably operating at a level that was about five times what he would have before. It felt different though, like he was getting almost everything from the person he was focused on.
Just to test the idea, he looked away from her, and tried not to think. It didn't make the world go away, but it was gentler. A softer wave of things hitting him all the time.
Waving her hand got Ali to move over, her face bland. The scar on her right cheek was still there, and her hair was pulled back, as if she wanted to show the world it was there. That kind of came off of her too, but she wasn't thinking of as much as Glenda had. Not as emotionally either.
"What's up?" Her eyes locked with the larger woman, and her brain ran through tens of different combat situations that could suddenly develop there. Her having to fight the other Cymed, or possibly both her and her new trainee. She also knew that wasn't likely at all.
His mentor wrinkled her nose, which was kind of cute, in a weird way. Girlish, which didn't fit her looks, but did work with her spirit.
"Ben decided that we're going too slowly, and suggested he start training. I was thinking to start with contractile, then set up combat related. You said you wanted to try a different program for that?" She was being evasive, trying not to let Ben know that the whole idea was to be as cowardly as possible in a fight. Running and hiding being taught first, so that, in a pinch, those would be the fall back position in an emergency, instead of trying to take on an armored squad alone.
He nodded, which got both of the ladies to watch him carefully.
"Um... Yeah. Running and hiding sounds great. I'm nearly positive that we can't win this with boxing matches or by wrestling real good." He let his voice slip into a yokel accent and actually said wrastlin, even though that made no sense to him. The two women both grinned at it however, and Ali gave him a genuine smile suddenly.
"Finally. One of us that doesn't think failing to fight everyone in the world will make his dick smaller. I agree though, contractile first. I want to use the same protocols for the running and hiding parts. I think I have that worked out. It's a test, so you might lose a few months of time, if it doesn't work right. Probably not though. If nothing else, you'll be in as good of shape at the end as you would with the regular set. I can... Actually start that in about an hour? Call it an hour and a half. In brown seven?"
Ben actually knew where that was, the image coming off of her so clearly that he saw a picture of the number and the small berry bush along side of the door. The brown part was just the color of the place. It made sense to him, suddenly.
"I can be there then. Thanks. I appreciate the help." That got him slapped on the shoulder by the scarred lady, who also winked.
"Don't thank me yet. Save that for when you see how incredible I am, later in the day. You'll be awestruck." The words didn't match the feelings, but she was just a bit blank, emotionally. It was that she just thought of him as being part of her job, and while working up a new system for fighting was interesting, it wasn't some vast adventure for her.
Given that he really was just part of her work for the day, he had to appreciate the banter.
"Neat. I'll see you then. After lunch?" It made sense to him, and Ali nodded, but Glenda winced and stared at him.
She didn't speak until the other woman walked off however and no one was in the area to listen to them.
"I've been a bit busy over the last few days." Which was true. In the afternoon she'd been helping to work on new weapons systems. What they had barely worked against armored people, and the new mech units that there had been whispers about sounded totally impervious to most of what they could do. Their simulations said that large explosions might work, but that was about it. They, unfortunately, didn't have that kind of thing. They could make some, but not in a highly portable, man carried device.
She actually thought those words, Ben noticed. Man carried. It was probably due to how old she really was. She didn't look her age at all, seeming closer to being in her thirties at most. Even that was hard to tell, since her lean face made her seem older than she would have with a bit of fat on her cheeks. Anyone else would have thought about the things being personnel devices however.
It showed just how different people could be inside.
Her concern turned to him then, as she sucked in
a fairly large breath. After all, if he'd gone back to eating normally, that didn't exactly ruin the world. It didn't fit her plan of having him break free of his eating disorder, but he hadn't regained a lot of weight yet, either, which was a good sign. People could after not eating for a long time.
Ben waited, since it would be annoying to have people talking over you all the time.
"I... What have you been eating?"
"Uh... mainly tacos. About fifteen pounds of meatloaf a day too, when I can't get those. Oh, and cake. Just like, all of it. That's why there hasn't been any in the dining hall all week. You know, pretty much the exact opposite of what you told me to do?" He rubbed his stomach, which growled a bit, embarrassing him for a moment. Glenda looked resigned instead of getting that he was joking, and was busily trying to figure out how to repair the bad habits again. So he grinned, trying to seem charming. From her reaction it didn't really work. "I'm joking. Starving, but not eating that kind of thing. I've held to fruit so far, small portions, but I have moved to having two kinds a day. Not at the same meal however. I had grapefruit earlier. I was hoping to get a few bananas for lunch?"
There was rapid blinking as she worked out that he'd actually moved slower than she would have, and probably could start eating a bit more now as his exercise picked up.
"That's better. I nearly bought the cake thing. That kind of thing is more common than you might think. People go without for a while and most of them break and start in on eating anything they can get a hold on. It sounds like you're doing it about right."
She moved past him, and kept going, glancing at him so he'd know to follow. She really needed to get off to the range, so that she could test out some new ideas against armor. Not that she had anything that seemed like it was going to work yet. There were ways to make the rounds powerful enough, but firearms would have triggered the system, so they were using air powered things. They'd gotten the power levels way up, and could nearly match most regular munitions with them, but close wasn't a sure kill with each hit. Right now it took about ten direct strikes to kill a person inside their armor. Ten head shots, without missing or taking too long between them.
There was a lot of technical information inside of what she was thinking, that Ben didn't really understand. Thankfully. Otherwise it would have been far too much. Glenda had stopped trying to protect her thoughts, forgetting that he could read her mind. The problem there wasn't him, as much as the brain reading machines that could be used against them. They were supposed to all try to protect their thoughts if they could, all the time.
"Um, that wall? The brick one?" Ben was trying for a gentle reminder, and got glared at for his effort. She started back into doing the mental exercise however.
"Right. So, starting tomorrow, go ahead and eat a different fruit at each meal. Up the calories, to about fifteen hundred. You'll need more than that, but I want to go up slowly on that. Go up a hundred and hold there for a week, then up by the same amount and so on. Until we find the right spot for you. We'll work in some cooked veggies in a few days." They were moving, but not headed toward food, even if he was hungry. Instead she walked him toward Brown seven and waved at it. "Come back here in an hour and twenty minutes. I have to get back to some things. Secrets, so I can't talk about it. Not that there's much to really say yet..." She trailed off and looked at him blankly, slowly trying to stop him from reading her. It didn't work totally, but it was nearly enough to be worth trying.
"I can do that. Sorry about being a pain, but, you know, I'm too new to know where my behind is, so it has to be pointed out." Ben tried to twist to see it, but his shoulder really was in the way. It got a chuckle, which was about what he'd been going for.
"I'll be around in the evening. Most of your real training will be done by specialists. I'll be working projectile weapons with you, but that will be in a week or two. Mainly because you're about to get pretty busy. Other than the training parts, how have you been? Homesick? Making friends here?"
Ben had to think about it and decided that going with the truth was the best bet.
"I... I miss some things, but not my home. I mean, I lived alone, so that part isn't so bad. I didn't really have anyone, other than the occasional customer. I could use a few cheeseburgers, some fries and a milkshake, but I get that I don't really need that kind of thing. Food is addicting though. So, yeah, there are cravings. As for other things... I really, really miss VR. Like I can feel it all the time."
That got a concerned look, but also a sense of acknowledgement.
"Almost everyone has that at first. On the good side you'll get to do some of that soon, which will take the edge off. It's all about training though, at first. Later on we'll run more complex simulations, which are pretty much what the better games are. We don't water ours down however. Technically they'd be illegal, except that we have our own people doing the programming on them. You'll see. It's pretty interesting really."
Then, knowing she was acting strange, she walked away. It was a quick thing that Ben still probably couldn't match without jogging. Not that the goal of the moment was to follow her, since she kind of didn't want to bother with him at the moment. That he'd picked up on her wall had shaken her, and probably meant something was very wrong. Micha hadn't done anything like that for nearly a year, after having her genetics tweaked.
That Ben was might mean anything, from him just being better suited to that kind of thing, to the idea that some of the other changes that had been made to him were simply a lot more effective. If that was the case, well, Ben hadn't been wrong in his assessment earlier, and she knew it. The idea of moving forward with lower level psychic abilities for everyone had been put forth. Many times. The real truth was that the low level skills weren't that useful, and if they boosted them enough to be solid for everyone, they might well lose half their people, or more, to insanity.
It wasn't a good thing to pick up, but Ben had known the risks before going forward. They were his to take, and no one had forced him to do it. Not that it would help him to know that if he lost control of himself, and had to find a nice corner to jibber in. Possibly in his nice dark room. The idea of going back didn't thrill him, not at the moment. His middle was far too growly for that place.
Which meant a trip to get lunch was in order, and as luck would have it there were some cute little red bananas set out for him. At least he took ten of them, which was about half. They were really small however, and not as sweet as the yellow kind normally were. Good though. He ended up leaving two of them, since the worst of the hunger was gone, and he didn't want to stuff himself, if he were going to be lifting heavy weights, or running a lot later.
That meant he had about half an hour to kill before he could go and meet up with Ali. Then wait for her to be ready, since that would still make him early. Just to see what would happen, he focused on the rim of his white ceramic plate, the one that still had the red, half bruised with black spots, banana peels. Trying to use his mind to push it away from himself. Over the course of twenty minutes nothing happened that he could tell. Well, other than a lot of people looking at him funny.
It could be that getting strange looks was his secret power however, since that part went really well. Most of them were wondering if he were depressed though, or if something had gone wrong. That was because he was sitting there frowning at a plate, however, not anything else.
For a moment he wondered if he should try to claim that it was an evil plate that had earned his scorn, but knew that even as a joke, most wouldn't get the idea. It was just too bizarre. Instead he got up and took it to the pass through window in the back, dumping the food off of it first.
A man, dressed in gray like the rest of them, but wearing a nifty red stripe around one of his arms, the left one, pushed in behind him at the window. For a second it seemed like Ben might have been taking too long, but it wasn't that. The man wasn't trying to cop a feel either, finding Ben more than a little boring that way, even if he did enjoy the occasional cock.
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br /> No, he was trying to get Ben to notice him, so that he could groom him as a spy. It was rather complex, as far as planning went, but for some reason the man thought that he might be gay, and was willing to take one for the team, if it meant getting one of the so-called psychics on his side. It wasn't so much that the man, Richard, didn't think that they were real, as that he didn't care.
The entire program was about finding out if the Cymeds were against them, and while Rich didn't have any real evidence of that, he certainly knew he could make some up. The bosses were starting to think that this whole group was nothing more than a somewhat wealthy cult, who wanted nothing more than to become better than human. As long as they did it quietly, and without trying to take over, that was fine. With the higher ups. Richard however had been there through five years of hard work, sweat and pain, and had nothing to show for it. Yet.
Desperation was setting in however, since he was about to be pulled, and a half decade of nothing wasn't going to look good on his record.
There was real dirt there. He could feel it. The VR stuff that the others did, which he'd never rated for some reason. It looked different when they did it. When it was his turn, he got fairly standard and publically sourced games to play. When the others went, they came out drenched in sweat and troubled. That wasn't normal.
That meant getting the newest recruit in with him was a brilliant plan. He wouldn't have the physical abilities yet, which they all got when they came in. After ten minutes of sitting in a dark room, screaming. Rich had lasted nearly two hours, himself, before he lost it and had started yelling for them to let him out. This weirdo, the kid, Ben, had gone so long that he nearly didn't believe it. Forty-two days. Locked in that hell hole.
