Story #134 - Rick Trolled

Rick Trolled

“Keep your leg straight.” Rick's voice was curt, but he always got like this when I was working out. He had a good grasp of anatomy and a broad enough knowledge of workout techniques that I'd learned a lot from him, but that didn't mean I liked him getting in my face during my warm-up.

“I know,” I said tersely. “Thank you.”

The dark look on his face told me that he was not amused by my answer, but I just kept stretching and gave him no chance to keep the conversation going. If I'd been feeling a bit braver, I might have compared his physique to my own; Rick was a thinker, far more than a doer, and it showed in his body.

I didn't want the hassle of dealing with is hurt feelings, though, so I kept my mouth shut and my body moving. I had a full forty-five minutes to go before my workout would be over, and the quicker I got to it the quicker it would be over and I could move on to something more interesting.

Rick kept the glower on his face but finally stumped out of the small room, leaving me in relative silence. Slipping my earbuds in, I focused on the task at hand. I had a long way to go before I was ready.

***

“Enjoy your time alone?” Rick's voice was annoyed as I came into the kitchen.

“Yes,” I said politely, “thank you for giving me that time. I appreciate it.”

“Well,” he hesitated. I hadn't given him much room to maneuver. “You're welcome, I guess. Just – don't be so rude about it next time, OK? You know I'm only doing this to help you. To help the cause.”

“I know,” I said, nodding. It was still hard for me to understand exactly what I'd been recruited for, but Rick had enough double-secret clearances and top access protocols from the government that it was clear he knew what he was doing. He'd accosted me in broad daylight on my way to an afternoon lecture on campus and told me that he had orders to ensure my safety and fitness, and I'd laughed in his face.

With a pot-belly, large eyes and a receding hair line, Rick looked just like one of those guys who drove around in vans abducting young and naïve junior high and high school students. It wasn't until he started talking about me, about my life and about things there was no possible way he could know that I began to wonder if he might be telling the truth.

I was sure I could take him down if necessary, so I agreed to have coffee with him and see exactly what he wanted.

I shook my head – that had been over a year ago, and that entire period seemed lost in a haze of hard training in hand-to-hand combat, weapons use and diplomacy. Whatever the government wanted me for, it appeared to be high-level, and I was being outfitted with all of the tools I needed.

Of course, I also hadn't seen the sun in about six months, thanks to our move to a warehouse in the downtown core. The first house we'd trained at was hardly luxurious, but at least the bathrooms hadn't been something we had to cobble together from old pipes and a bucket.

“You should rest,” Rick said, and I nodded. Exhaustion always hit me hard half an hour after a workout, and though my body was changing significantly, I could ruin all of my gains if I didn't eat or sleep right.

“Goodnight, Rick.”

“Goodnight, P.” I wasn't supposed to mention my old name – too much potential for bugs and wires, Rick said, and I'd been given the handle “P” for a placeholder. I didn't care for it, but chalked it up to one of those things that an international man of mystery would simply have to endure.

Despite the poor condition of my surroundings and the lumpiness of my cot on the floor, I felt myself drifting off as soon as my head hit the pillow.

***

Rick seemed odd the next day.

Typically, he was cool and calm, and would only show irritation at back talk I gave him. Today, he seemed agitated and restless, two qualities I had never assigned him.

I reached for the radio as I came into the “kitchen” we'd devised, but Rick slapped my hand away.

“Don't!” He said quickly. “There's some bullshit story on, something you don't need to hear anything about. We've got a big day ahead of us. A big day.”

Something in his attitude got to me, and I reached out my hand again for the knob. He refused to allow a television in any of our training facilities, but I had insisted on a radio. I wasn't the smartest kid in the city, but I still wanted to know what was going on around me.

“...the search continues,” a male announcer was saying as I clicked on the power “for twenty-one year old Danny McMaster. McMaster was last seen a month ago on his college campus, but no leads on his whereabouts were found.”

I almost laughed out loud. It was no wonder they were looking for me – kids didn't disappear every day, but I wasn't as though I could tell them where I had gone. But they had their dates wrong – probably the morning guy wasn't too bright – it had been over a year.

“Yesterday,” the announcer continued, “a hair sample found near the scene was returned, and showed evidence of the powerful mind-drug, Timesplice. McMaster may not be aware that he is missing, or may be unaware of the current date, so use caution if he is seen.”

My gaze turned quickly to Rick, and I felt my hands tighten into fists.

“What have you done?” I asked quietly.

“It's not like it looks! It's not like it looks! Here!” Rick pulled a small device from his pocket and thumbed a button. Concentric energy waves ran over his body, and in moments the man I knew was gone, replaced by a being forged seemingly from pure light.

“Look, we need to talk.”

I pulled up a plastic lawn chair at our makeshift table.

“I'm listening.”

- D