A.I. (part 7): Abduction

[Corwin]

Tim heard numerous footsteps above him. He grabbed a robe and put it
on, not wanting to expose himself to the intruders. Hal had
constructed the robe a few days before, and it was already tight on
his massive frame. Tim signaled the Derek android and the drone to
remain behind.

The house was dark, and Tim approached cautiously. He was greeted by
someone shoving a metal rifel barrel into his chest. The someone with
the gun shouted, "Halt!" Instinctively, Tim grabbed the gun and
twisted the metal up as if it were a pipe cleaner.

"Let's not hurt anyone with these toys," said Tim authoritively.
"Now, who the fuck are you and what are you doing in my house?"

A voice from behind him said, "U.S. Army Special Forces. We're here
to investigate a national security breach and possible kidnapping."

Tim turned. From the shadows, he saw the frame of a large man
approaching. The man was nearly as tall as Tim, maybe six foot ten or
eleven. He had broad shoulders and a wide chest.

The voice shouted, "Lights," and a second later Tim was blinded by a
spotlight shining in his face. Tim raised an arm to shield his eyes.
Squinting, he began to make out 4 men surrounding him. Tim focussed on
the man giving the orders. He wore camouflage and looked familiar.
As Tim searched his memory, it dawned on him. This was the soldier
that Hal had shown him. The one who was part of the experiment and
won the armed forces bodybuilding title. He looked much bigger now.
Scanning the room, Tim recognized another of the competitors from that
picture. The two other men were smaller, but still large and muscular.

"I'm Sargent Detrick," said the African-American man. He looked over
Tim. "My, you are a big boy, aren't you?" He looked to the solider
with the bent rifle, "and strong too. Looks like our suspicions were
right."

"What are you talking about?" demanded Tim. "And what give you the
right to break into my home."


"We had a report of a breach of a highly classified Army computer
system. We were able to trace that break-in to this area. We were
also contacted by a Derek Conroy about a hostage situation. We were
sent in to investigate." The sargent's eyes once again scanned Tim.
"Looks like a good thing, too."

"I don't know what you're talking about, and I think I want you out of
my house." Tim heard scuffling behind him. Derek appeared, a gun at
his back as the third man from the picture emerged.

"Found this guy hiding downstairs," said the blonde haired soldier.

"What's your name?" demanded the sargent.

"Hal," said Tim quickly. "And I'm Tim Hunter. This is my house and
as I said, I want you out. Do you have a search warrant?"

"Don't need one," said the Sargent. "National security."

Tim heard people coming down from upstairs. They were carrying his
computer equipment.

"What are you doing with my computer," Tim cried. "Hey, be careful.
That's expensive equipment!"

"Evidence," the sargent said matter-of-factly.

Tim began to notice that each of these soldiers were huge guys. Not
in his league, but obviously bodybuilders, or something else.

"Evidence of what? How is this national security?" Tim demanded. "I
haven't done anything."

"Oh, we think you have. You might eat all your cheerios, but that's
not how you got that body of yours. I bet you know a lot about
projects you shouldn't," said the Sargent. "My boys and I are that
project."

The sargent stepped forward. He flexed into a crab most muscular
pose. There was the sound of ripping as his muscle bellies stretched
his shirt beyond its limits. Sargent Detrick's chest pumped as he
flexed, expanding and ripping his shirt. The man's traps and delts
burst the seams, and his bis and tris split the sleeves. The flare of
his lats grew as the large man sustained the flex for a couple
minutes, until the shirt was no more than shreds. He slowly relaxed
the pose, bouncing his pecs as he raised his arm to rip the shreds
of fabric from his body. "Does that ring any bells to remind you of
what I'm talking about?" asked the sargent.

"No, not particularly," lied Tim. "Was that suppose to impress me?"

The black man sneered. He raised his left arm and flexed his bicep.
A football-sized peak rose from his upper arm. "36," said Sargent
Detrick, "and solid."

Tim yawned. Now, it was his turn. He raised both his arms and
flexed. The fabric had no chance of containing his 45 inches of dense
muscle. Fabric bunched in his pit and around his delts and traps,
then ripped as the hard muscle overwhelmed it. "I haven't been as
small as 36 for a while," said Tim flattly. He twisted his arms and
pulled them below his pecs, flexing his chest and flaring his lats.
His powerful body exploded outward, the cloth having no chance of
containing its size. Tim posed into a praying most muscular. He
looked down to his right, turned his head slowly to his left, then
looked forward. "Now, THAT's impressive," he said, returning the
sargent's sneer.

The sargent stepped forward. Tim relaxed and took a step forward.
The two men's pecs were now forcing into each other. Sargent Detrick
was an inch shorter and clearly less muscular than Tim, but he refused
to be intimidated. He pressed into Tim, trying to force him backward.
Tim felt the man's strength, which surprised him, but it felt as if a
child were pressing into a grown man. Tim raised his leg and stepped
forward, pushing the muscular black man back. Detrick grabbed Tim's
wrists and squeezed. Tim slowly raised his arms, feeling the
sargent's body temperature rise with the exertion of trying to contain
his power.

In a quick move, the Sargent released Tim's right hand. Holding his
left, he jumped behind Tim, using his weight to twist Tim's arm
backward. It didn't work. Tim's arm refused to move. The sargent
found himself bouncing off Tim's unmovable arm, and landing on his
butt under it.

Tim bent over, placing his arms in the black man's pits. Tim's face
was in Sargent Detrick's and he smelt the black man's breath.
Effortlessly lifting the black man, Tim said, "I told you I wanted you
to leave."

"Soldier's, subdue him!" Sargent Detrick ordered. Within seconds,
nine solider's descended on Tim. Each was big, but not nearly as big
as the sargent. Tim tried to isolate his attackers, but they had been
trained to attack as a team. When Tim would concentrate on one, four
would attack from behind, grabbing his arms, punching his lower back
or kicking at his knees. Individually, he could take any one of them.
Even as a team, he fought them for minutes. Punches that would bring
down walls were easily deflected by Tim's granite body. The tide
began to turn when four soldiers grabbed Tim's arm in unison and
stopped it. Four more grabbed the other. Tim struggled, but the
combined strength of the eight soldiers equalled or surpassed his.
The Sargent and a huge dark latino began pummelling his abs and torso
with punches. Tim tried to kick away, but couldn't. Seconds later,
another man appeared with a syringe. Tim fought, but the man put the
needle in his arm and injected the drug. Tim passed out.

Tim awoke in a strange setting. He was on a couch or small bed, and
he seemed to be moving. The Derek android was with him. Tim noticed
something else. He felt his erect cock and swollen balls. He had had
another treatment.

"You're awake," whispered the android. "You almost missed your
treatment. Luckily, you responded to sensory stimulation and I was
able to administer it while you were under the influence of their
drug."

"I... I don't remember. Where are we?" asked Tim, trying to clear his mind.

"The drug they gave you was some sort of truth serum. You didn't tell
them anything, so they put us in this vehicle. The men who abducted
you are behind that door and in the front. We have been travelling
for eight hours," said the android.

Tim tried to rise, but found that there were thick metal shackles
around his arms and legs. He tried to break them, but couldn't.

"The metal is a titanium steel alloy. I'm not sure you are currently
strong enough to break it."

Tim thought, then whispered "Well, I need to work out, right?" Tim flexed,
straining against the metal. He felt the formula kick in. He felt himself
growing. The cloudy haze of the soldier's serum was replaced by the
euphoria of the muscle growth. He flexed his bis, delts and pecs, feeling
them strain against the metal. Deep in the muscle, he felt the cells
divide and strengthen. He felt surges of strength and power as his muscle
struggled against a new foe, determined to crush it as he had crushed
gravity. He would bend this metal to his will as he had bent the laws of
physics. He knew his muscles were unstoppable, and their continued growth
was assured. Wave after wave of energy battered into his muscles as they
pumped larger in their winnable struggle against metal. Tim could feel the
metal begin to bend as he felt the serum begin to be depleted. Tim flexed
his legs, using their larger, stronger muscles against man-made metal. As
with his arms, he felt currents of energy flowing into them. Lifting his
head, he could see the pump reflecting their new growth and strength. Tim
struggled and flexed continually for an hour, stretching the metal and
deforming it with sheer muscle power. At the end, the growth serum had
been depleted and he was still captive.

Tim was about to suggest another treatment to Derek when he heard the
door open. It was Sargent Detrick. Tim could see he was still
shirtless. The sargent checked out the shackles and scowled. "Told
them these wimpy things wouldn't hold you. Another half inch and
you'd be out. Well, too bad you won't have time for that. We're
here."

The other nine soldiers filtered into the room. All were now
shirtless. Had Tim not been their prisoner, he might have found the
situation erotic. Each was as big as any Olympia competitor, and
probably bigger. He already knew that they were damn strong. Several
had boyish good looks. A few others had a rugged masculinity that Tim
found appealling.

Four soldiers took up positions on either side of Tim, and one behind him.
Still shackled, they lifted him with the platform he was laying on and
carried him into a garage of some sort. Derick and Sargent Detrick
followed. They proceeded into a building that might have been a hospital,
into an elevator, and onto a hallway with no other people. Finally they
entered a room and lay Tim on a bed. The room was filled with lab
equipment and several computers.

The four soldiers grabbed Tim's arms and held them down. Sargent Detrick
unlocked the shackles and threw them to the floor.

Tim tried to raise his arms, to get away. The arms of the soldiers
bulged resisting Tim's might. Tim's arms moved up an inch, and were
then forced back down. Tim struggled and again his arms rose. "Hurry
Sargent," panted on of the men holding him. "Don't know... how
much... longer we can... hold him." Tim's arms see-sawed up and down,
gaining ground to the four men only to have them contain the power of
his guns. The Sargent hurried and lowered two beams from the ceiling.
The soldiers struggled to get Tim's arms into position, and then
locked them down with a "thwunk." The men released his arms. There were
sweating. Some were massaging their triceps which had cramped.

Tim tested the new restraint. He flexed his arms and pushed as hard
as he could. There was no give at all.

"That's a magnetic hydraulic lock. You can't get out of that. The clamps
are closed by powerful electro-magnets and pressure applied by these
hydraulic beams." Sargent Detrick pointed to the beams. "Fuckin' Superman
couldn't get out of that."

Tim remained silent. He watched as some soldiers carried in his computer
equipment. Derick was told to sit and was hand cuffed to a chair. The
soldiers with the computers were assembling the system, but seemed to be
having trouble getting it to boot. One left and returned with another man.
The new man seemed to be in charge. He approached Tim.

"Detrick, hand me those scissors," said the man. "I'm doctor Perkins. I'm
in charge of this project. Now, this won't hurt." Perkins took the
scissors and began cutting off Tim's shorts, leaving him naked. "There,
now I can get the whole picture. Hmmmm..." the doctor sighed. "yes,
definitely not what I predicted." He turned to the Derick android. "You
must be Hal?"

The android looked, "Yes. Hal C. Clarke," it said.

"This is your work?" Perkins pointed at Tim.

"Yes, I am responsible for Tim."

"We will need to talk," said Perkins, eyeing Hal with suspicion. He
walked to the soldiers working on the real Hal.

"It won't boot," said one. "Starts to look for the network, then freezes.
We tried the normal overrides, but it always looks for the network."

"Well, hook it up to the network," Perkins said.

"Can't. This isn't a secure system."

"I don't understand 'can't'," said Perkins, clearly irritated. "All I know
is that whatever this Hal person did to our serum to create Tim is on that
computer. I need that information. Now, it is your job to get it for
me."

"We could take the disk out and try it on another system."

The android shook its head. "It's encrypted to that processor."

"Look, just hook it up. Create an isolated network, but get me that
information."

The soldiers ran off.

Perkins walked over to a cabinet and got out a syringe. He walked over to
Tim. "I'm just going to draw a little blood," he said as he stuck the
needle in. It filled with the red juice of life. Perkins removed the
needle, and took the blood sample to a strange looking machine. He put it
in, then pressed a button. There was a whirring sound for several minutes,
then it stopped. The doctor walked over to a computer terminal as the
soldiers came running back in.

The soldiers had brought with them some cables and a box that Tim
recognized as a router/firewall. They hooked the system up, and plugged
one end into Hal. They hooked the other end up to the computer Perkins was
working on.

"Interesting," said Perkins, ignoring the soldiers. "Your blood contains
ten times the amount of serum that we've been able to induce in any other
subject. Mr. Clarke, you will have to tell me your secret."

"I think we got it now, Dr. Perkins," said one of the soldiers. Tim
watched as Hal's screen came to life. The solider read the words on the
screen, "Network found." He sounded excited. "System enabled." There was
a definite sense of anticipation by the soldier. "Wait. Failsafe
initiated." Suddenly, there was the sound of metal scraping together and
the smell of plastic melting. "The disk is crashing!" the soldier
screamed, trying to stop the process and rescue the system. There was the
sound of circuits shorting out as Hal's motherboard overloaded. Just
before the screen went dark, the words, "I'm sorry Tim" flashed on the
screen.

Tim felt a sudden loss knowing Hal was gone forever.

[arpeejay]

Ooh! Interesting developments! Again, Scott, many thanks. This is as good as it gets, IMHO.

rpj

[jcnutt]

Again Scott/Corwin you have us on the edge of our seats. This seems like a nasty turn, so can hardly wait for the next part to see where you go... please, accept my thanks... and everyones, Im sure.

[Corwin]

I'm just a sweet little devil.

I'm finding the speculation interesting and how close some of it is to what is planned.

I'll try and get part 8 out today

Scott

[msclrough]

I didn't see that coming!

Nine huge guys holding down Tim... that was awesome.

Good job in making a wonderful story that has muscle growth elements. Keeps it interesting.

MR

[brent]

I've been loving this story all the way though, but I really had to laugh at the, "Hall C. Clarke" bit! I wonder if Tim is actually full of stars...

[Ender]

Originally posted by brent
I've been loving this story all the way though, but I really had to laugh at the, "Hall C. Clarke" bit! I wonder if Tim is actually full of stars...

Cute..