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Descent into growth : Part 3


Hialmar

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The story began: here.

Part 2 is found: here.

Descent into growth

Part 3

When the day came, everything seemed so normal, and so matter-of-fact.

The four of you were sitting at the breakfast table, the kitchen-staff and the cleaners suitably preoccupied somewhere else. You, little Rob and Mr. Vanderwesthuisen were eating the usual high-protein breakfasts you had all become familiar with in the last few weeks. Nate wasn't eating anything.

"How do you feel after a night on nutrition-IV?", you asked Nate.

The sinewy little fighter beamed of restless energy, and the scent of shower gel and anti-perspirant steamed from his tight and hard little body.

"Feels weird to not eat breakfast with you, but I feel ok. I'm not hungry. Actually, I'm full."

"And how did this morning's workout go?", Mr. Vanderwesthuisen asked, with an eager voice. In the last days building up for the main experiment, Mr. Vanderwesthuisen had become restless. Restless and eager. His, sometimes arrogant, eyes now burned with curiosity.

Nate smiled, unknowingly allowing his smile to hit you all like a flash. His golden brown eyes glittered in mischief and cockyness:

"Feel pumped and sore, in a good way. Loved the full-body workout Doc prescribed before the experiment. Wasn't sure if I would follow through till I reached the last exercise, but I did, prolly 'cause Doc's super-nutrition. Lifted more heavy, than I thought possible without a pre-workout." 

Nate returned to addressing you:

"Now. What's next?"

You swallowed your scrambled eggs, and cleared your throat.

"As I told you before. I had to assess, that you had recovered from the virus, that spread your new improved DNA. It seems like you have. Then, you had to spend one night with the nutrition-IV and follow that up with a full-body-workout schedule, in order to ensure, that all your muscles will be in a state receptive for ultra-enhanced recovery and hypertrophy, which they now are. Next step is to inject you with a formula, which will increase your production of beneficial hormones and decrease your myostatin. It will also ..."

"What's myostatin?"

It was Rob who answered:

"It's a chemical in your body, setting a limit to how big your muscles become. We are removing that limit."

Then he fell silent and blushed, because he might have had spoken out of bounds. Your protective instincts rose again. During the months together, the short and portly lab-assistant had gradually revealed a bright intellect and a witty sense of humour under the surface of shyness. He had once described himself as "belonging to the repressed middle-class" and Nate "belonging to the oppressed working-class". He had also confided in you, that he felt of two minds about working for Mr. Vanderwesthuisen:

"Am I a hypocrite, because I now work for Mr. Vanderwesthuisen, when I protested against the 1% as a student? This income. That insurance. Free accommodation. The beach. The gym. This job is too good to be true. Thanks for coaching me, by the way."

The enthusiastic voice of Nate brought you back to the present:

"No limits. Exploding testo. Ultra-enhanced recovery. I love this."

You took up the thread where you had lost it:

"The formula will also contain an analgesic, specially designed to remove any pain from growing bone tissue and muscle tissue. You will remain awake, and you will retain your sense of touch and temperature."

"Analgesic?", Nate asked.

"Painkiller.", Rob prompted.

When you left the dining room for the laboratory, Nate gave Rob an encouraging thump in the back, in a gesture you had seen jocks use at your gym. Rob returned the gesture with a few awkward pats on Nate's back. You had seen the relation between the two young men improve. In the first weeks, Nate had avoided the fancy-talking lab assistant, and Rob had shyly avoided working out in the gym when Nate was exercising. More recently, they had warmed up to each other, and found some shared ground in films and computer games. Nate had even, unexpectedly, taken over your role as Rob's coach at the gym.

Three of you had the access code to the Lab. There were emergency doors made of armour-plating and lead-plates connected to detectors, in case any dangerous substance or radiation would begin to leak. When you entered the Lab, several different scents greeted you: Shavings and the scent of rodents from the guineapig cages, cleaning solution, methylated spirits and the indescribable dry sort of smell present in areas where high-voltage equipment is running.

You switched on the computer, on which you stored and ran the morphogenetic fields, and you switched on the computer, that controlled the levels of anabolic radiation and hypertrophic power. Little Rob checked the gas canisters and the hose connecting the cannister and the Test Chamber.

"Will you write the present stats down, Rob, will you?"

Rob did:

"Height: 5'6''.

"Weight: 145 lbs

"Chest: 36 inches

"Waist: 27 inches

You were too preoccupied with the preparations to notice the size of Nate's firm, but apple-sized, bicepses. The Test Chamber was warming up, and you were fetching the serum in the refrigerator. Mr. Vanderwesthuisen was watching the procedure with great interest. You had tried to advice him, not to attend something, that was purely a scientific pursuit, but he had insisted. Your scientific instincts disagreed: A medical experiment isn't some sort of entertainment.

The tacky green interior lighting lit up the Test Chamber, and you remembered Mr. Vanderwesthuisen's flippant comment:

"You have to cheer the test-subjects up. They will feel more Hulk-like, in that illumination."

You dabbed the crook of Nate's right arm with alcohol, and then gave him the injection. This was the point of no return. The chemical compounds and the altered DNA had now begun to interact inside the wiry little fighter. No-one knew for sure, what the added effect of the gas, the anabolic radiation and the hypertrophic power would lead to, but if the guineapigs were giving you any clues, the result would be rather sensational. You and Nate watched each other in silence, and you fell short of words, because of the gravity of the situation. Nate gave little Rob a hug, and entered the sluice. The interior atmosphere was pumped into the sluice, and Nate was able to enter. You were ready to begin the experiment.

It was Mr. Vanderwesthuisen who broke the silence:

"And so it begins."

* * *

Part 4 is found: here.

Edited by Hialmar
added link to part 4
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