Freedom

As the whitewashed walls came into focus, I felt a crazy sense of vertigo. In my mind, Grant intoned, “Please relax Petros, this won’t take long.”

“What are you doing to me, Grant?” I enquired, trying to keep calm. I had had way too many bad experiences in this position to feel comfortable with any new sensations.

“You will be glad to know that you can come off the table and walk around free of constraints in a few minutes” I sensed Grant's enthusiasm and also noticed that the pipe that usually fed me directly into my stomach was no longer present. Additional tubes that must have dealt with my waste were also no longer attached. After a while, I felt movement and then gravity as I was swung from a horizontal position to a vertical one.

“Please step off the platform, be aware that you may feel dizzy, but it will pass.” instructed Grant.

I craned my neck and found I could move. My neck and body were responding to me. It was the newly enhanced body and nothing like the elder middle-aged man I had been when they first abducted me. Excited at my unexpected freedom I stumbled off the platform and found the gravity to be lighter than expected. That didn’t stop me stumbling to my knees and intuitively I summoned my staff to support me. Exactly as in the Sim, it appeared.

I hadn’t believed that magic could work in the real until now. I clothed myself in a t-shirt and camo pants with a thought. Boots and cloak followed, and I turned around to look at the environment that had enslaved me since I left Earth. Grant was standing at a doorway. He was taller than me, lanky, skinny, and buck-naked. His grey moist-looking skin seemed to glisten in the stark laboratory light. His torso appeared to be extra long, with the ribs showing through as if he had spent time in Ethiopia. Stringy arms and legs lead to four digits, the four digits seemed to form two pairs that acted together, giving the hands and feet the appearance of pincers. His genitalia seemed to be absent as if he never had any, which immediately made me consider his gender or if it was even applicable.

The large upside-down pear shaped head with compound eyes, nose slits, and purple lips were the typical looks expected of aliens. One I was familiar with. I guess some of those UFO stories must have been true. The door was open leading to a corridor behind him. Within the room were all the tools you would expect in a dentist or plastic surgeon's office, except that the platform I had been lying on was made of a force field and was translucent.

Grant beckoned to me to walk out the door. Every fiber in my being wanted to conjure my sword and chop him to bits. It was with considerable effort I resisted the urge and fought my repulsion of Grant's appearance. He had been good to me but I owed him at least a punch to the face. The electric pulses he had used to gain my compliance, in the beginning, were not easily forgotten. I had to behave myself. I still had a lot to learn and discover.

I adjusted my walk to compensate for the low gravity, making small steps and trying not to use too much force as I stepped. I noticed as I passed Grant that he had a silver ring on his one finger that had a glowing red setting that was facing inwards to his palm, making it easy for him to press by closing his fingers should he have a need. He was poised to press it.

I smiled at him and using thought speak said, “Is that the kill switch?”

“Not a kill switch, but an immobilizer should you be unstable.” His honest reply caught me off guard. I was expecting him to make an excuse, but he was being consistently honest with me. I kept walking into the corridor.

“Where to?”

“Walk to the end of the passage and at the fork go left, although I suggest you clothe yourself in something more formal.” Grant followed me, his gait like a spider, each step careful and strange.

With a thought and a gentle tug on my mana I clothed myself in denim and a polo shirt. I then followed the directions and passed several doorways, all closed. Eventually coming to a doorway at the end of the left passage.

“Place your palm on the interface and it will give you access” I did as Grant's mental prompt suggested and with a swish, the door like an iris opened and I entered a spacious room with a large group of humans and Absinthe sitting and lounging around in various places.

“This is the relaxation room where your people gather to socialize and relax. You may mingle freely and refreshments and various food items are available along the wall at the back. I will be here for a short while before I attend my duties. When you are ready to go back to your training, reach out to me with your mind.” I felt his mind recede from our connection and he left me on my own at the threshold. I was feeling like the new kid on the block again and had no idea where to turn. Hardly anyone took notice of me as I moved tentatively into the room, so I made straight for the back wall. When in doubt, hit the buffet I thought to myself.

One of the first things I made for was the coffee machine. The smell of coffee was strong and proved irresistible. They even had cream and little sugar cubes. It was 5-star service, and those snacks looked so good. I grabbed some pastries and a couple of sausage rolls.

“There he is!” said a voice I recognized, and I turned to see Raúl Sánchez pushing his way through the crowd towards me. “Come on Colonel. Come sit with us.”

I followed him while stuffing one of the pastries into my salivating maw and found the team all gathered around a table. Different bottles of alcohol were in various states of depletion, including a bottle of Absinthe, a bottle of Scotch and the merriest of them all, Tequila. The slices of lime, shot glasses, and a salt dispenser spoke of some hard drinking. I looked at my coffee and felt conflicted. The situation demanded something stronger, but the smell and taste of something familiar and comforting had the strongest pull.

After swallowing the pastry with relish and pushing the flakes that had gathered on my unshaven stubbly face I exclaimed, “Hugo!” The huge Norwegian was slumped in a comfortable lounge chair. He looked at me with a somewhat inebriated grin. His rosy face beaming in happiness.

“Armpit Colonel!” he greeted back. Stone, Sánchez, John and Charlie all tipped their glasses to me and threw back another shot.

“Welcome Colonel to our Officers deck,” said Stone.

I slurped my coffee noisily and with relish. It was the first time I had imbibed something in reality since my capture. Let me tell you that first sip was heavenly, washing down those last flakes of the crispy pastry. The earthy dark aromas of the coffee, enhanced by the fat from the cream, gave me a small shudder of appreciation. My eyes might have even closed for a second, transported down memory lane of moments past where coffee usually meant the end of a difficult mission or a quiet solitary moment of luxury.

The slam of several shot glasses on the table brought me back to the moment. Sánchez was leaning towards me and I caught the last part of what he said “….level are you now?”

“I’m up to level 14 at the moment. When did you guys get back?” John was busy pouring himself another dram of Scotch whiskey while he answered me.

“The mission went well. Although at the end there it nearly went to hell. All thanks to Major Stone, we made it out with the objective complete. Sánchez you cocky bastard, you nearly killed me with that stunt you pulled.”

Charlie rose to Sánchez defense, putting his arm around the diminutive Latino. “You limeys always got some beef with the details. We made it, stop complaining.”

John laughed. “I’m not a limey Charlie. You know I’m from New York. I’m as American as you are.”

“Americans only come from Texas bud and ONLY drink Tequila.” was Charlie's profound reply, “Now drink up man, drink up and let’s sing the best song known to man…” He cleared his throat and in his deep southern accent broke out into said song:

“Silver wings upon their chest.

These are men, America’s best.

One hundred men we’ll test today,

but only three win the Green Beret!…”

Some other soldiers in the room, perhaps also Green Beret’s joined in and the slow cadence and catchy rhythm got me tapping my feet to the classic song, a big smile stretched across my face.

A group of Russian soldiers, probably Spetznaz judging by the style of uniform they wore were sitting across from us and started singing one of their songs and it soon became a contest of who could shout loudest rather than who could sing what.

Major Stone caught my eye and beckoned me to go with him. I grabbed my mug and moved off. The songs resounding louder as more people joined in with their respective preference. With the power of the songs building around me, I felt a sense of what pride these men and women held onto and fought for. It may not be their original country; It definitely wasn’t their original life but instead, it was as part of something much bigger. Defense of Earth. Pre-emptive and surreal, these were the guys who had made it and lived to tell the tale. Major Stone and I found a corner where it was relatively less noisy and private. Putting an arm around my shoulder, he huddled me close for a conspiratorial chat.

“Armpit, we need you brother, I put in a good word with my controller and he said we could have you in our team for the next mission. It also means we will join in your next few Sims to build a bit of momentum.”

I stopped him and asked my own question, “What mission did you just get back from? Does it have anything to do with an Alfred Malabourne?”

Stone’s surprised eyes were answer enough. “You seem well informed for a trainee Colonel. How could you possibly know that?”

“Never mind that. I’m just curious if you recovered him?”

“Recovered him? No! no, our mission was to scout for him.”

“What? isn’t he a captive of the Reapers?”

“Yes, we were doing a reconnaissance of the facility. John Stiles was right. It was a near thing, but we got out without being detected. We had to dispose of a few sentries but Lt. Sánchez managed to make it look like local animals had done it. So we are pretty confident that they don’t know we were there.”

“I see, so you want me to be part of the rescue?”

“That's it exactly Colonel, our team doesn’t have a heavy duty magical user and since we have been there already, we are the ideal team to go back”

“Did you see him? or anyone else held prisoner at the facility?”

“Someone else? He was alone when he was captured. Who else could be there? The facility is far from the Reapers core power. It is quite remote. I doubt there are many prisoners although the place is plenty big enough. But with the way the Reapers are, he probably doesn’t have much time before they move him or kill him. The Reapers are not known for keeping prisoners longer than the time it takes to extract knowledge and then drain their life “

“Do you know he is a Prodigy?”

“Deary me, you really are well informed. Yes, he is the prodigy that Hugo mentioned before. A very experienced one at that”

“So how will we make a difference if, with all his power, he can’t make a difference and save himself?“

“Aah, well Colonel, I don’t like to blow my own whistle much but we are the most effective team the Absinthe have at the moment. We have more successes than failures, and we haven’t failed a mission for the last 121 outings. The next most successful team is that group of Russians. Ex-Spetnaz chaps. Their tally is only half of ours. Truth be told, Hugo is our ace in the hole. I’ve yet to see someone or something match his strength and resolve.”

“Okay, so what you’re saying is I should be honored to join your team?” My eyes twinkled mischievously

“Aye, ye be right in that, and similarly we are lucky to have the first pick of the new recruits.”

“Okay, now that we have finished stroking each other's egos, I have one more request. Can we include Sarah in the team? That woman has bigger balls than me. She literally carried me to the island on Nico Sim.”

Stone chuckled. “Aye, she does at that, okay Colonel, I will see if I can arrange it, but in the meantime, I have to help you get into shape. Your body has not had a proper exercise for at least a week, and we have to get the in-Sim stamina across to the real you. Follow me.”

Major Gladstone appeared to have sobered up quite a lot and he led me towards an alcove in the room that had a few pool and snooker tables, some table tennis tables and half a basketball court with a hoop all set up. We moved past them and the few people using them and into an adjoining room. As I walked in, I heard the clank of metal on metal and the sour smell of sweat that every gym ever made reeks of. It was a familiar smell, like a homecoming.

I beamed from ear-to-ear. Arrayed before me was one of the most unusual and advanced gyms I had ever seen. Several people were going at it, some on treadmills, some doing reps with floating bars and several machines seemed to open like clamshells where you placed your arm or leg in. All those who were training had fierce and determined expressions. I had yet to see someone not in shape. This whole ship was a thriving community and I was beginning to feel a part of it.

“We need you to train in here for the next week, at least five hours a day.” At my raised questioning eyebrows, he continued, “Your body will be able to cope. The machines are programmed with your details and will guide your regime but if you have any problems, just ask Grant to fix it. The nanobot stims literally put steroids to shame. It also brings me to another point. You will be training with us every day in Simscape too. Grant says that you have mastered all the survival sims so far, and that putting you into more would be a waste of time.”

“Now hold on there Stone, I don’t want to be streamlined through. If there is training to be done, I should do it.” This time it was Major Stone who raised his eyebrows in surprise. Then he chuckled. “Aye, the leveling up system is quite addictive.”

Reverting to my first name he said “Petros, five hours of gym and an additional six hours in the sims training with us is not the easy road. Believe you me!” he stated in finality. “The real question is, can you handle it?”

When he put it like that I suddenly realized what I was getting myself into. Eleven solid hours a day of any type of intensive training for a week would be borderline insane. On the other hand, I had been doing training for the best part of my life, so essentially it would be more like refreshment training. Bringing muscle memory to the fore. Besides, what other choice did I have? I wanted in on this rescue mission. The worst that could happen is I would not be ready and they would go without me.

I had learned long ago that the best way to do a thing was to Nike it, rather than ponder and reflect about it. “Okay, so when can I start?”