Caveman - Part 3

[tekuno]

I'm a day ahead of my suggested schedule, because I didn't write another part of my other current story. The wasted time is entirely because of cleaning up water in my basement and not at all because I found another Flash tower defense game and spent hours playing it. Yeah. That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.

...seriously, I need to find a way to block the Armor Games website for myself.

Next part should be up by, oh, let's say Wednesday. There's lots more to come.

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Caveman
Part Three

This story has been completed. Content warnings and general description are included with part one, general commentary will be after part twenty.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine | Part Ten | Part Eleven | Part Twelve | Part Thirteen | Part Fourteen | Part Fifteen | Part Sixteen | Part Seventeen | Part Eighteen | Part Nineteen | Part Twenty

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"And supposing I ate ten--twenty of your little tablets, what then?"
"I should not advise you to attempt it," he replied dryly.

-- Agatha Christie, The Chocolate Box

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"Why don't you sit down, and I'll explain in a little more detail." Gary waved, and a dais rose from the floor to approximately chair height; another mechanical arm came out of the ceiling and dropped a cushion on top. "I'm afraid this place was designed for my species, and we find it more comfortable to sit cross-legged on the floor, so I don't have any chairs, but I'm sure you can make yourself reasonably comfortable."

I sat, and Gary frowned to himself. "Where to begin... well, now, as you can see, I'm not a genuine, paid-up member of Homo sapiens. But you were a bit off when you said 'half a million years ago'. Technically, the designation for me would be approximately Homo heidelbergensis, although you have to understand that precise differentiation isn't quite as simple as the neat classifications make it sound. The whole point of evolution is gradual change -- if you took my skeleton to a museum, they might very well tell you that I'm a new species entirely because their representative samples come from times which were far enough removed to be significantly different from me. In a sense, that's not really important, though, because my consciousness is not the one which came, so to speak, preinstalled in this body.

"Originally, I was a disembodied intelligence. My earliest memories are several billion years old. For billions and billions of years, I just..." Gary waved his hands in the air. "...drifted around, looking at things. I don't remember it all, of course. Naturally, without glands or a circulation system or a brain, I didn't have emotions, so I didn't get bored even though I spent most of the time out in space doing nothing at all. Looking back at it now, of course, it's horrifying.

"Anyway, after all that time, by lucky coincidence I happened to find this planet, and much to my surprise, as far as I could be surprised, there was intelligent life here. I had never seen anything like that before -- I ran across things like bacteria here and there, but nothing complex. Just as an experiment, I tried to see if I could communicate. Nothing seemed to work -- I had a certain amount of influence on electrical impulses, but I couldn't see any way to even send a message. And so I decided to try to manipulate a brain.

"Well, I learned pretty quickly that a brain is a complicated thing -- to complex for me to manipulate productively. I gave a few cavemen epileptic fits trying to make them talk, and then it dawned on me that maybe I could train a brain to accept my commands if I started off with a fetus. So I went and found a pregnant cavewoman and, uh, I guess 'possessed' is the closest word to what I did to it. I spent the last two months of the pregnancy figuring out which nerve endings did what. Even so, it took me a long time to learn how to make this body do things like walk.

"But by the time I was 'born', I discovered I could no longer get out of this body. Somehow, I'm bonded to it now. I'm not even sure if I will survive its' death any more.

"In the end, I was stuck as a caveman, but at least I was a genius caveman. I built a civilization around myself -- there was no competition for resources, so it was pretty easy. I modeled the computers here on what I had observed of how brains work, so they're much more flexible and intelligent than anything your people have come up with, and of course they acted as force multipliers for my own intelligence. I even used my knowledge of how genetics and biology work on the molecular level to regain and then perpetually extend my youth. I may not look like it, but even ignoring the time I spent trapped down there, I'm hundreds of years old.

"But..." Gary sighed. "I ended up getting bored. The rest of the cavemen weren't smart enough to hold my interest. I would build a flying machine right in front of their noses, and they insisted it was some kind of bird. Even though they had seen me put it together from synthetic pieces. So I decided to put myself into suspended animation for a while and see if I could skip some of the age of dullards. I built a machine for it, and set up my, er, base to monitor things.

"I had intended to sleep for 5000 years. The main computer says that after about two thirds of the way through that, there was a huge earthquake and the whole place was buried. If I had been awake, that would have been no problem -- this place could have dug itself out. But in order to maintain my life support systems, it didn't have much energy to spare, and it didn't have permission to wake me unless someone with signs of being from an independent civilization showed up in the cave. So it sat there and tried everything it could think of to work around the restrictions.

"Moving as slowly as possible, and acting against geology, it managed to rise somewhere around 400 feet in about 250,000 years. That may not sound like much, but it was operating on almost no power whatsoever. The approximate equivalent would be having a car which got one million miles per gallon of gasoline, but took a decade to pull out of the garage. Still, even with all that careful rationing, the base was just about to lose power when you showed up and fulfilled the conditions to let it wake me back up. For which I am extremely thankful, by the way. As I say, another few decades, and the machine would have had to shut off life support -- I didn't think the conditions for release through very well."

I ought to have been confused, or skeptical, I suppose, but there was really no excuse for that. I mean, Gary was right in front of me, and since he had the right anatomy for a caveman and strength which seemed to be far beyond that of an ordinary human, any other explanation would have been even weirder. I mean, he could have been a robot, for example, to explain the strength -- but that would mean somebody had built a robot which moved with perfect fluidity and could be made to look exactly like a caveman, and then put it in a fake base buried in the ground behind my house, which then erupted out of the ground, just to play a prank on me. It actually seemed more plausible that I had actually stumbled across a genuine prehistoric superman than that someone would go to huge expense just to mess with my mind.

"So, uh, what are you going to do now?"

"I'm not sure yet. The computer has been looking at the news, and it seems to think it might be dangerous to just walk into a TV studio or a newspaper office and announce myself, and it might be even worse to try to contact your government."

I thought about my mother. "You may be right about that last one."

"I'm going to take it easy for a little while, let the base recharge its batteries and so on. Nobody has noticed me so far, and this spot is pretty isolated, so I ought to be okay -- as long as you don't plan on telling anyone."

"No, as far as I'm concerned you can stay here. My parents might not like it, but they're away for next few weeks, so you have at least that long."

"Great."

Suddenly my stomach rumbled.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't really have anything for dinner."

Gary gave a laugh. "I'm afraid it's nothing that simple. Have you forgotten that I had the computer inject you a little while ago?"

"Now that you mention it, yes. I was too interested in your story."

"Ah, well, your body is reacting to it. It will be trying to catch up with your adult size, basically, which means your body is going to demand nutrients in order to grow."

"Huh? How quickly will that happen?"

"Oh, not with undue speed. I'd estimate that you probably won't gain more than ten pounds a day."

"What?!"

"Is that not enough?"

"I don't think I've ever eaten ten pounds of food in a day. Eating that much is going to be hard!"

Gary was amused. "Oh, I'm afraid you don't understand biology very well. In order to gain ten pounds, you need to eat a great deal more than ten pounds of food. After all, your metabolism has to use energy to change the raw materials into a part of you, so in order to gain ten pounds you need ten pounds of building material, plus enough food to give you the energy needed to turn those ten pounds into part of yourself. Thirty or forty pounds of food ought to do it, I think."

"Jesus! I don't know how much I eat, but I'm pretty sure I've never even come close to that."

"Oh, dear. Sorry. Well, it's too late for me to adjust the dosage or composition of the shot, so how about if I help you with the food intake."

My stomach rumbled again, louder and longer this time.

"Gary, anything you can do will be greatly appreciated."

Gary chuckled. Then he stood still for a moment. "I just gave an order to the computer. It will begin preparing an optimized nutritional compound for you. The first batch should be ready in about ten minutes."

"Oh. Good."

I was starting to feel really woozy -- dizzy and tired, and it felt like there was some kind of pressure on my head. I sat and tried to breathe deeply.

"Hmmm. Maybe that isn't fast enough. Hang on."

Another gesture, and another arm brought out a hunk of... stuff.

"That's a block of processed concentrated texturized vegetable protein from the kitchen. The metaphor isn't precise, but you can think of it as being along the lines of high-density tofu. It will taste terrible, but if you're as uncomfortable as you look, maybe you ought to eat it anyway."

I snatched it and started to eat. The lump had the approximate density and texture of very cold butter, but without the greasiness. Actually, it didn't taste bad so much as it lacked any significant flavor at all, which was unnerving. I munched away and felt slightly better.

As I finished a second hunk, Gary stood up. A sturdy-looking machine rolled out from a hatch with a huge pile of cylinders on top, a little bigger than curling stones. They were held together by a bag of some sort of netting. Gary grabbed the bag with one hand and slung it over his shoulder. Then, without warning, he picked me up with the other hand and carried me out of the cave.

"Sorry, Mitchell, but this will be much faster than having you walk home. There should be enough compound in this bag for the next week."

"Thank you."

Gary carried me through the woods. The sky was just beginning to lighten, and I was reminded that Gary had taken me out in the middle of the night.

"If you need more, you can just stop by the cave. It's not like I'm going anywhere, yet."

"Thanks again."

Gary smiled. "It's the least I can do."

When we reached the house, Gary set me down. I led the way into the house, where he unceremoniously dropped the bag on the kitchen floor, and left.

A few minutes after he left, my stomach started to rumble again. I fiddled with the bag opening and grabbed a cylinder. Then I grabbed it again with both hands, and managed to get it to my mouth. It was heavy -- the material, whatever it was, was extremely dense, with a uniform texture. I bit into it, and found that the flavor was not unlike white meat from a chicken, but with a hint of sweetness to it. Not unpleasant, but not something I would recommend to a gourmet.

As I ate, I wandered to the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. I looked, as far as I could tell, pretty much like I usually did.

I polished off the entire cylinder -- it took some time, because it was so dense. In fact, it dawned on me that the bag was much, much heavier than I was, which led to some speculation about just how strong Gary must be to manage both of us at once without apparently noticing the weight at all. Then I sat; I wasn't hungry any more, but I was tired. I didn't want to watch TV or read a book or play video games or even sleep. I just wanted to sit.

After about half an hour, I started feeling hungry again. I was shocked, but when I looked down, my stomach was just as flat as it had been before; there was no sign that I had gobbled down a huge, dense lump of food less than an hour ago, let alone the earlier two lumps of vegetable protein.

I sighed and took another cylinder. I ate a little faster this time, and just sat at the table. After I finished, I wandered into the bathroom again.

Much to my astonishment, I already looked different. My face looked leaner, and I was apparently filling out a bit. I held up my left arm and flexed, and for the first time, ever, there was something visible. I wasn't sure, but it was even possible that I had gotten a bit taller. I grinned at my reflection. If the price of all this was eating a lot of scientific super-spam, I could live with it.

The phone rang, and I answered it. It was the latest of my parents' "housekeepers" (i.e. the person who was supposed to be keeping a discreet eye on me while they were off travelling).

"Mitch, I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I'm quitting."

"Huh?"

"Oh, it's not your fault. I just received a call from a lawyer, and it turns out a distant relative died and left me a huge fortune. But I have to go to Switzerland and claim it immediately."

"Really?"

"Oh, yes. They gave me the name of a bank and an account number and all sorts of other things, and I verified them all, and apparently there's more than ten million dollars waiting for me."

"Wow, that's... nice." Improbable would be a better word.

"So I won't be coming over again. Will you be okay by yourself?"

"Oh, sure. I can get my own breakfasts, no problem."

"Will you apologize to your parents for me?"

"Will do. You enjoy yourself."

"I certainly plan to! Have a good day, Mitch. Be careful."

"I will."

We hung up. Well, that was convenient -- nobody would be coming over to comment on the changes to my body, or the bizarre pile of stuff I was eating. In fact, it was a little too convenient; Gary had said he was tapping into my Internet connection, I had no doubt that his computers were more than capable of hacking into bank systems and government databases to create a convenient fake relative with real money.

On the other hand, it was basically harmless -- he could have planted evidence in police computers and had her arrested, instead, to get approximately the same result.

And, of course, it was always technically possible that this really was just an amazing coincidence, although I was skeptical.

I headed upstairs and turned on the computer, meaning to send an e-mail to her, but before I could even start the program, I started to feel hunger pangs again. After seeing myself in the mirror, I was actually kind of turned on by the idea that the hunger was going to translate directly into size, but out loud I said "already?" and headed for the kitchen.

To make a long story short, I spent the entire morning eating and eating and eating. After my third cylinder, though, I started having to... well, I was alternating between the dining room and the bathroom, basically. The super-spam was going through my body at an incredible speed. I was no judge, but I think only about a third of it was leaving my body.

Certainly my reflection showed that a lot of it was sticking. By the end of the morning, I was definitely taller -- at least four inches taller. There was a powerful ache in my arms and legs, which I supposed were concentrated growing pains. All the baby fat on my body seemed to have dried up, and my body had definitely filled out. Actually, I don't mind admitting that if the whole process had stopped right there, I would have been satisfied. I was apparently gaining muscle much more quickly than I was gaining height; I looked like the world's shortest lightweight bodybuilder.

And then, abruptly, the hunger stopped. I had gotten through six cylinders, which I supposed was my ration for the day.

I went to my bedroom and took off my shirt. I was getting pretty impressively beefy, and this was just the first day's worth. Who knows what I would look like by the time I was done?

My reflection looked really great. My stocky frame made me look powerful. Without all the fat, my face looked vastly better than ever before. My sunken eyes actually looked kind of sexy, and the shape of my face no longer made me look vacant and stupid. I even had a six-pack, although I could tell it had more to do with the way my body had suddenly sucked away all the fat under my skin than with the actual muscles underneath. Still, in a couple of days it would probably be fantastic, given how much progress I had already made. After I hit a few poses, I was so turned on that I decided to jack off, and discovered that I had been... augmented down there, too. I had gained at least an inch. It was all incredibly erotic.

Just as I was about to begin, my phone chirped, signaling a text from one of my friends. I decided to check on it before proceeding. It was from Norris, and said:

"Stuck n traffic here. Mom says we're staying another night. Back tomorrow afternoon."

I smiled. By the time Norris got home, I'd be so different he'd hardly recognize me. I texted back:

"Big surprise for you here. See you later."

Then I lay down on the bed and had the longest, most erotic session of masturbation I had ever had. I admit that I felt just a little creepy to be doing it because of my own body, but the idea that I was suddenly going to be able to actually pursue a sex life -- any sex life at all beyond my own right hand -- was pretty intoxicating. And apparently I wasn't just going to be competing, I was going to start at the top. By the time school started, I was going to be tall and muscular and sexy, probably one of the biggest guys in the school given Gary's technological skill.

With a yell -- there was nobody else in the house to hear me, so why not? -- I came hard and long. Then I lay back, panting and enjoying the afterglow.

And then my stomach rumbled again...

Next Part

[Rarity]

Interesting development so far. I kind of feel bad for Gary, but maybe things are looking up in terms of easing his (what I assume is) loneliness. I wonder if the fact Mitch is growing more muscle than he is height more is a precursor to something. . . Along with the constant grumbling. Welp, let's see where part 4 takes us.

GUUUUUURL, I SWEAR IF IT TAKES US RIGHT INTO A RANDOM VOLCANO I WILL BE VERY HOT AND BOTHERED ABOUT IT. butnotreally

[rododoro3]

Your writing makes me jealous.
Stahp it.
(Don't stop!)
Stahp!
(Now seriously, do keep writing, since this story makes me hot and bothered without being thrown into a volcano. Dumb looking smart people make me happy. Very happy.)

[tekuno]

I have another part about halfway done, but I'm too sleepy to finish it (and I have some stuff to do before bed, too) so it will have to wait until tomorrow. (This is basically to forestall anyone saying "but you said 'by Wednesday' and it's Thursday". Sorry, guys. For what it's worth, I really WAS cleaning up in the basement tonight, at least part of the time.)