Jacked, chapter 4. (Patreon)

Here we are. Hope your holiday season went wonderfully, and continues to do so. I also hope any resolutions you make you keep with ease. This will likely be the last chapter of anything from me for the year, I hope you enjoy it, and we will be right back at it for January. Please enjoy.

The warehouse was large, located in the slums, and had been used for a variety of purposes in its long life. The roof was partially collapsed and all four walls sported holes both large and small. Still, the structure would give us some modicum of privacy while I attempted my first steps again, as a babe.

I had done the same many times before of course; it was with a feeling of heavy nostalgia which I did so again now. A simple mental command removed the limitations I had placed myself under, and a simple step launched me toward the ceiling.

I was able to grab a beam and swing around it twice, bleeding momentum and only slightly bending the steel frame. Just a bit more damage to an already ruined structure no one cared for anymore.

The amount of effort required had been little; almost none at all, and the speed had almost been too much for my enhanced brain to follow. Another hole in the ceiling would not have been a tragedy, but the blow to my pride would have been great.

I finished the second revolution and slipped down, adding some momentum. I cracked the floor next to Jackal, yet all was well' such growth pains were to be expected.

This body did not appear to mass great weight, yet cracking the reinforced floor of the old warehouse did lend to that appearance being a lie. My old body could have done far more damage, yet that alone meant little.

I would test some more - by profiling to the left even as Jackal moved to keep me in view.

It was painfully apparent within two steps that he could not. Not much of a test, as he was mostly human, but a test nonetheless.

Jackal of course, tired of the game quickly. "Okay, you can stop now. I'm getting dizzy."

Ah, that would not do. Should he vomit, I might slip in it. I stopped. "This body seems somewhat more heavy than I expected."

Jackal nodded. "It is dense, due to the new forging method for both the muscle and plates. Still lighter than most bodies made for the arena, however. Unless I've been lied to."

I jumped again, using even less force this time, and still found myself brushing the ceiling with a hand before falling back down. This time the floor did not crack upon my hasty arrival. This body seemed in part designed for battering, despite its flimsy appearance. Surely this could not be so?

There were no weapon systems loaded, the only means of defense or attack were speed and strength. Even such an admitted purist as myself found those defenses far too light for such a body. There wasn't even a taser.

There did seem to be some small clips embedded into this body in order to hold... something. They simply retracted at a thought, the 'skin' pulling away and leaving a slight indentation.

Jackal had wasted his time on things such as this. What other secrets did this body hold that he had wasted such time on?

"You found the mounts, I see. Those are designed to take the stress of wearing armor off the body when worn. The armor itself is unfinished; I'll finish it as soon as possible now, since you are inhabiting the thing."

I raised an eyebrow, finding the motion easy and smooth.

Jackal raised his hands in surrender: "I know, I know. But the weight of the armor won't slow you down much, and it has some mounted weapons. I didn't want to make a body without any way of... de-stressing. That body is as close to human as I can make while still having its improvements."

That was concerning. Even more concerning the more I pondered it. I could not escape the image of this form propped into a chair while its creator danced around it, discussing matters of the day and attempting to feed it, as some grown men had done in days past. I would not be his doll, no matter what history this form boasted.

"No need to look at me like that. I swear its not what you think. Whatever you could be thinking."

"It is likely worse," I informed him quietly. Then proceeded with my speed test.

"And here I thought you didn't know how to joke!" Jackal yelled out as I reached the far wall."

The joke was on him, of course. I did not make jokes. Well, not often at any rate. I was back next to the man before he could say whatever else he wanted. This body housed more than the standard speed, despite its size. Which I knew, of course, but more laps would reveal just how much speed and agility I now possessed, in measured terms.

I could bounce from floor to wall and even beyond while keeping the majority of my momentum. Much like cannonball, that luminary of arenas past. He never did rise too high, yet his matches were always entertaining.

I would not be doing such a thing. I was myself, and no derivative combatant. The agility was welcome however, for unless my memory betrayed me, this body had more performance in that area than my previous.

I stopped. "Jackal, I need you to do something."

Jackal stopped dead center in the otherwise empty building. His face was wary. "What?"

He knew what I was about to ask, I knew. "I need you to attack me. Shoot me, use a melee weapon, whatever you prefer. Just attack, and with intent to harm."

If he did not give it his all, any data gained from the test would be worthless.

"That isn't a good idea. I'm barely a match for anyone. My own enhancements aren't combat related."

Yes, he was a stranger to combat, clearly. "It would be best to establish a baseline before my contact arrives. Such a thing will only help me."

Jackal sighed and hung his head. "Alright. I'll try a gun. I've always wanted to see if my work could dodge bullets."

Such a thing was impossible. One could not react quickly enough. It was possible to cheat, however, and dodge where a person aimed their weapon.

Jackal pulled out his personal weapon, a flavor of one of those fifty caliber revolver. It would certainly penetrate most armor, depending on the ammunition used. The man made a show of pulling the bullets from the chamber, and loading another type - showing that he had been ready for such a desire of mine, subconsciously or no.

The bullets he replaced the originals with were brightly colored... so paint rounds. Paint rounds were somewhat rare in that caliber, gelled paint formed into a bullet and backed by a low grain charge of powder. They had a tendency to simply puff into nothing, as getting the proper powder charge for that caliber was irksome. Where had Jackal gotten such rounds?

Not for the first time, I was confronted with evidence that the man was supplied by more than simply scavenging. I would continue to ignore such evidence. For now.

Jackal spun the cylinder and clicked it shut with the standard flourish, and took aim without fanfare. For my part I remained steady, upright and not at all 'at the ready', as one might classify my stance. After all, if I acted as if I were ready, the test would be invalidated.

The test went as I expected, regardless. Jackal was good, for one so unmodified; every single time he aimed at me, he was on target. He was also attempting body shots, rather than the more difficult head shots. Nevertheless, my old teachings held true, and not so much as a single speck of paint marred my borrowed clothing as his revolver clicked empty.

Jackal held his hands up again as I closed, the revolver dropping loosely by a finger. Why was he surrendering? He'd only done as I'd asked. "Well, hope you're happy. That was unpleasant."

I mimed that he should reload. "Yes, you did well. Causing potential harm to your doll could not be an easy decision, yet you aimed correctly."

Jackal sighed. "look, that body is not... never mind. For all the good my aim did. You clearly know that trick that all arena warriors seem born with; I doubt any projectile I fire your direction has a chance of hitting you."

"I do know the trick of course, yet even so, I need some measure of speed to perform it, and this body does deliver on that front. I will need to perform the test more of course, with those who are more suited to combat than you, and with whatever armor you have meant for this form."

Should I have time, at least. Jackal may take his sweet time in completing it, and my revenge could only wait so long.

"Yeah, that's fair. I'll work on the armor. After all, the one drawback of that body is the expense and time required to repair it, so making sure you don't get too scuffed up by small stuff would be a good idea. Are you at least sure now? You can likely match most threats out on the street, even without weapons."

I was not satisfied on that point yet, but the odds clearly looked better to me than this morning.

"Time to call my compatriot," I informed Jackal. Like most of the converted, I had a communications suite inside my head, something that previous generations had to carry around with them as a separate item like savages. Some still did to this day, of course, those foolish people that called themselves purists. Even Jackal was not such a person.

"You didn't call them before?"

"I did not know if I would be wasting her time, before. I now know. She will come, and her time will not be wasted for doing so."

"Her, huh?" Jackal asked, the words pointed. Pointing in a direction I did not like.

"She is the most competent female warrior I know. If anyone is able to judge the worth of the body you have created, it is she." A warrior was different than a soldier of course, and there were many female soldiers, of armies public and private. It was a matter of honor and ethics.

Jackal knew her: "Freya, huh? She certainly has those qualifications."

Something in his tone sent a minor thrill of warning through me. "You know her?"

Jackal shook his head. "We met. I tried to get her to check my work before, but she refused. She claimed she was busy, despite wanting to fund my art for this very purpose."

Freya had long been vocal about the advancement of cybernetics, and the cybernetics of women in particular. All for the sole stated reason of facing me as an equal. Such ironies dictated all life, and it seemed ours would be no different.

There was little I could do, save what was needed. That and brace for the inevitable.

I dialed the number from memory; there was nothing wrong with that part of my memory, it seemed.

Freya engaged the connection on the second ring of the bell. "Who is this? How did you get this number?"

"Good morning Freya. I hope this day finds you more well than I. It is I, Jormungandr. I would like to request your presence at your earliest convenience at one of our old stomping grounds; testing area four."

A beat passed, and then another, before Freya answered. "Well you've got the manner of speech down, but there is no way Jorm would be caught dead sounding like you do. Have you even hit puberty?"

So it was to be like that? "An interesting choice of words, and more accurate than you know, if slightly distant of the mark."

Freya sighed in my ear. "Right, right. Look kid, you know some things, I'll admit. So I'm going to give you a chance. Forget this number entirely, and don't be there. If you are, you'll have to answer some questions."

"For some of the answers, one needs simply check the local news for happenstances. You can do as much while on your way to me."

"Right, on my way," Freya responded, then ended the connection.

There was little to do but wait. Unfortunately my options for wasting time were limited; I had little of my old hobby technology to fall back upon. Even so, I could not fault the man before me for his lack of foresight, even if he should have known humans prefer some form of pastime.

"So, is she coming?" The man focused on asked. He seemed pensive, how quaint.

"She is. Should she find nothing of suspicion outside, we may even get her to stay long enough to listen to us."

His features morphed into clear relief; so he had been pensive after all. I suppose Freya had a fan. One of many, of course. Countless multitudes, no doubt.

There were tests I could perform, yet. Such as simple strength tests; even without precisely measured weights, I could glean surprisingly accurate estimates on what this body's tolerances were in that field of human endeavor as well.

The large chunk off concrete of long forgotten origin placed quietly in the corner was no match. Neither was the wrapped lengths of steel that was placed next to it. I did not expect much, as those were the lightest weights present here. The the third weight was a reinforced compact car, somewhat further compacted to allow for easy gripping. I managed it with only minor distress, mainly caused by my own lack of mass and heft. There was simply too much bulk to lift far.

With more weight added to this slim form, I might fare better, yet as I was, this was where my test ended. A pity, as it was clear that even so, I could no longer rely on simple strength to win the day, as I would simply be outmatched by physics alone.

A common problem among bodies of this type.

"Don't worry, I know what you're thinking." Jackal informed me.

I'd not let such a challenge go unanswered. "That is a neat trick, if so. Tell me then, by all means."

Jackal grinned. "You're thinking that you will not win in a contest of strength, if you need to. I have a plan for that, and it involves your armor. Imagine boots that can plant a spike into the surface you're one... dirt, concrete, steel, whatever it is. Then you can't be pulled off your feet and can use all the strength that body has to offer."

I could think of several ways such a system would get me killed. Even so.... "The thought has some promise."

The only difference between an idea that killed, and an idea you killed with, was use.

I heard the screech of tires outside. In this neighborhood, in this area, such an obvious display of wealth could only mean one thing. Freya was early - because of course she was.

It was still a matter of some few minutes of course, as Freya never traveled alone. She had some few for security, much as I had. They were no doubt investigating, in order to make sure there was no trap.

One could never be too careful - a wisdom I had learned once again to my sorrow.

No, it did not matter, I would deal with those who thought they could steal from me.

The door opened, and Freya strode in, looking as unconcerned as only an arena champion might. The proper door, not the large pull up door that no one used for fear of the alarm placed upon it.

Then she stopped suddenly, looking between myself and Jackal, her incredulity clear for all to see.

The first guffaws shook her, then grew louder and more violent until she was nearly shaking herself apart.

I approached, and the movement drew her eye. She quieted for a moment before starting again, even louder than before. She even went so far as to wipe a non-existent tear from an eye before grabbing her sides.

At last, she began settling down. "Ah, sorry... just the thought of Jormungandr being beaten and then trapped in something like that, it's... well, it is so very fitting. He's such a smug bastard...."

Really. She thought so little of me? I never knew. "Are you finished?"

Freya straightened, trying to use her full height to intimidate. It worked as well as the last time she tried such. "Yes, I'm finished. So tell me, little girl, what can you possibly use to prove to me that you are the mighty Jormungandr, who I saw no more than twenty minutes ago."

Interesting. "Did you talk to him, then?"

"No, I didn't. I called to him, but the bastard ignored me and ducked into his private room."

He was at the arena then. "Call him now, then. Bid him come and answer you."

"Is that all you got?" Freya asked.

"It is not, of course, yet it is one of the better ways to prove my identity. Beyond my speech, and the way I fight of course. Both of which you know very well, having been watching me for years."

Freya waited a moment, then shook her head, stepping away. "Well I've got to admit, you've got the speech down. Fine, give me a moment. You stay right there with your hands out and pointed away from me."

I approved; one could never be too careful.

I waited, as did Jackal, ignored off to the side as if he were furniture. At least to all appearances. I would not lay coin upon that chance.

Freya stepped up again. "He is not answering. After ten rings. He has never ignored me. Told me to leave him alone or that he was busy, but never just ignored me."

I knew that, and she could see that I knew. "The number will not connect. The device that number is connected to has been destroyed. Now ask why I, someone you think you do not know, would have your unlisted number? The number you give no one unless you consider them worthy of your time?"

Freya chanced a look at Jackal. "Him I know."

Hah, she jests. She mocks me. "You did not give that man your private number. If you had been impressed by his work it would be you in this body now, and not I."

"I am right here, you know." Jackal objected.

"I'm kind of glad about that right now, you know," Freya admitted, her face softening. "I get to see the big bad Jorm humbled, if all this is true. I get to see you still alive, if you're telling me the truth, you big idiot."

She whispered the last, in a voice so faint even Jackal had no chance of hearing it with enhanced hearing.

"But no," Freya continued. "That man had no finished product when he contacted me, just a half hollow puppet he could make dance through use of some control circuitry. There wasn't much in that set up I could judge. It looked promising, and I told him to contact me again once it was finished... but here we are."

Jackal scratched the back of his head again as he answered the unspoken question. "Truth told, that body isn't quite finished. There are still a few systems that aren't fully installed or improved to my satisfaction. But I was in a bit of a hurry, and so here we are."

"Did you know who it was you were saving? Did you see the fight?" Freya asked, turning to the saw bones.

"No," Jackal replied. "I heard it, and had some suspicion that I was saving someone rich and powerful because of the area, but there wasn't really enough left to show who it was. All I had was a leaking brain case, failing fast, and no body to place for it. As clear a case of body theft I'd never seen; even the face was... removed."

Freya winced, even with the man's politic choice of words. How unexpectedly squeamish of her. "I can of course prove who I am easily. No one else fights as I do."

Freya sighed, then smiled. "Not how I wanted this to happen... but I'll take it. Come then, and show me who you are!"

A strange thing indeed, the twists and turns of life. I was looking forward to this, oddly enough.