Once again, Ryan wore himself out before Peter. At least this time he’d been there first. Still, he felt defeated and sulked back toward his room. Approaching the mess hall, he saw Tyler emerge, moving slowly after a large meal. Tyler had been in decent shape when they first met, but he seemed to get fatter every day. Ryan gawked at a gut that was particularly noticeable in this old high school shirt. As they passed, he couldn’t help himself. He slapped the side of Tyler’s paunch and was thrilled by the resulting, resonant sound. Tyler winced.
“Dude! I just ate!”
“Sorry bro, that gut is an easy target. Maybe you oughta try cutting back to two dinners a day.”
Tyler walked away, rubbing his sore skin. Ryan felt a little better. Most people here were like Tyler -- undisciplined. Peter couldn’t keep this show up like Ryan could.
The next day, Ryan reported to a different building’s gym for a special meeting. It was an unusual venue, but he hoped that at least if it was boring he could get a little extra workout time in. As he entered, he saw a new guy standing at the front of the room, looking scrawny and uncomfortable. No doubt a lame guest speaker from HR command, probably here for yet another sensitivity training triggered by an innocent joke. As Ryan joined a crowd of men from various units, he couldn’t help noticing that, aside from that guy, everyone in the room was in excellent shape. Were these guys all in trouble for making the fatties feel bad too? And why were there so many pussies who can’t take a joke in the Army?
“Okay, looks like everyone’s here, so we can get started,” the man began nervously. As Ryan stretched his arms over his head, he observed the speaker’s eyes linger on his flexing bicep.
“Yep, another HR fag,” thought Ryan.
“My name’s Alex Jessup and I’m with Medical Research at Fort Detrick. You were all asked to come here because I’m looking for volunteers for a new research project, and you’re some of our fittest guys.”
Ryan couldn’t argue that he didn’t meet that standard. And while there was no one else quite as big as him (aside from Peter‘s biceps), he could see that he had some potentially stiff competition.
“You may have seen some recent headlines about our men being too out of shape. We’re working on a few programs to address this, and this one is Project GAINS, or ‘Growth from Anabolic Implanted Nanotech Supplements,’ which is focused on building more muscle. We want to try it out on a group that’s already more muscular than average, which is where all of you come in. If you sign up for the program, you will be relieved of your regular duties for the next twelve weeks as we observe your results.”
The men seemed excited about this opportunity, but Ryan felt a little threatened. He already pushed himself to the limit most days. If this program gave everyone else a leg up by making them work out more, it might not be able to do anything for him. This might be just the unfair advantage Peter needed.
“This is very new technology, but we have every reason to believe that it is perfectly safe. We will be giving you a pre-workout supplement that targets your muscles as you work out using custom-built nanotechnology. The idea is to get this supplement into your muscles and then activate it using an ultrasonic frequency that is only played in the gym. This gym is already isolated, so during the next twelve weeks, it will be just for you guys.”
Alex turned on a high-tech speaker, which made no apparent sound but flashed red.
“This machine was developed for Project GAINS. You can turn it on whenever you’re in here and just turn it off if you’re the last one out.”
Ryan tuned Alex out for a moment as he looked around. Maybe he should be coming here anyway: although this gym was kind of a hike from his room, it had a much better selection of equipment than his own. Both gyms had two rows of equipment, but this one was very long. It definitely catered more to the serious athletes like him. Ryan turned back to Alex.
Project GAINS
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