“Teeen more repsss. Your quooota is not commmpleeete.”

  Easier said then done Sagaci. I’ve spent more time in this gym over the last three weeks than I did the previous year. We live in a high tech society with wonders that more primitive man would find indistinguishable from magic. Yet here I am still getting healthy the old fashion way. Lifting a heavy metal bar above my head over and over again until I can't do it any more.

  “Ssseven. Eighhht. Two moreee.”

  You know, I thought I was supposed to be getting stronger as I worked out. I’ve lost most of my binge weight. About ready to give up on losing the last two or three kilos. I haven’t increased the weight for a while yet it feels heavier.

  “Annnd ten. You caaan stop.”

  Finally, arms feel like jelly over here. Pretty sure there’s a liter and a half of sweat mugging up my crotch.

  “You havvve made exxxcellennnt progggress.”

  “I haven't made any progress. I’ve been doing the same amount of reps with the same amount of weight.”

  “And doiiing a greaaat job of it.”

  Sagaci hands me my daily gruel. A protein rich slurry that I’ve been barely surviving on. Tastes like chalk and artificial berries. Something they whipped up to help me lose weight, worked at first but lately, I don’t know.

  “This feels a little greasy. You sure it only has 200 calories?”

  “Of couuurse. Woullld we liiie?”

  Don’t answer that Tom. It’s a trap. This really does feel fattier, though. Like someone poured in bacon grease.

  “I think that’s enough for one day. I’m headed to the wash room.”

  “Arrre you suuure? Do you nooot havvve the desire to connntinue?”

  “Not really. In fact, I’m probably just going to nap. I’ve been feeling like utter crap for the last couple days.”

  “Iiinterestiiing.”

  Sagaci has been taking notes on my progress. I thought they were trying to help me. Starting to think otherwise.

  “Hooold for a mommment. We mussst readjjjust your graaav band.”

  Right, another thing I’m still not used to. In my old ship the gravity of the whole vessel had one setting. Human. With over a hundred races on board at any given moment, that’s just not an option. As standard the whole ship has around 80% what it is back home so as to not crush our more frail members. It’s a lot easier to increase gravity than decrease it. So the rest of us have to wear these special bands to keep us suffering Space Adaptation Syndrome. I only have to wear this one. Races from planets with stronger gravity than Earth usually wear multiple. They ain’t so bad. Just kind of a heavy belt. Fits the uniform well enough.. I prefer not to be in charge of the adjustments, though. One wrong button press and suddenly my head weighs as much as a shuttlecraft.

  “Right. I think I'll just power the thing down. So lower gravity might be good for me.”

  “Looowered graviiity is not advvvisable for prrrolonnnged periooods.”

  “Oh come on. At least an hour or two.”

  “No Caaaptaaain. It would ruin our…”

  “Your what?”

  “Our, uh, prooogress. Yes. Us annnd you. Caaan’t slack off juuust yet.”

  Yeah, Sagaci is definitely using me for some kind of experiment. Question is what kind.

  “I’m just going to get someone else to handle this. You should go rest. Been watching my flabby butt run all day.”

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  “Cappptian. We are-”

  “That was an order.”

  Sagaci doesn’t look too happy about me pulling the Order card. If they would just take no for an answer we wouldn’t be here right now. Yeah, slink away all mad at me. I need to find someone who understands this science mumbo jumbo better than I do.

  Let’s see. Plenty of options but I don’t know most well enough to ask. It’s a big ship with a ton of crew. Impossible to know every line man and deck swabber no matter how hard you try. I already hate pulling rank against my command staff. Not going up to some grunt and demanding they tell me what drugs I’ve been taking. Wait a tick, is that Deed? What does he need to exercise for? Actually, he’s not even exercising. Just sitting there at the edge of the gym. Well, now I have two things to ask him.

  Walk through an advanced space gym, you would think there would be all manner of strange and complex machines. Really, most of them look little different from the kind we use back home. Turns out no amount of computer ships and electrical engineering beats lifting heavy objects. There is some small difference. Free weights come in a greater variety of shapes and sizes, particularly the grips. And there are over a dozen models of treadmill most of which I couldn’t even attempt to use properly. Still, at the end of the day it’s all the same concept. Most species need to do it whether we like it or not. Mechanicals are one of those few who don’t.

  “Didn’t expect to see you on this part of the ship. What you up to Deed?”

  “Acknowledgment: Medical Officer Sagaci has tasked me to record Communication Officer Joan’s progress.”

  “Joan’s here? Where?”

  “Directions: Red section deadlift weight device.”

  Red Sector is all on the other side of the Gym. Dedicated to the heaviest weights available. It goes Red, Orange, Yellow, Blue and Green. I never go farther than Blue. Squinting as hard as I can, I can just barely make out her brown silhouette.

  “You getting a good view of that?”

  “Acknowledgment: This distance is of no consequence to my photoreceptors. It is better for all parties that I maintain this distance.”

  Those two still aren’t on the best of terms. Willing to bet Deed didn’t agree to this for entirely charitable reasons. Gathering intel perhaps?

  “Say, you wouldn’t be able to check this drink for me, would you?”

  Deed takes my half finished sludge without looking at me. A mechanical finger dips in followed by a flashing blue light.

  “Analysis: This liquid contains level of low grade steroids, saturated fats and glandular extracts which border on dangerous for your species. I would recommend you speak to Medical Officer Sagaci before ingesting any more.”

  “Sagaci is the one who was giving this to me.”

  “Correction: I suggest you no longer take suggestions on nutritional intake from Medical Officer Sagaci.”

  “Noted. I’m guessing this was one of their little tests. Any guesses on what they were trying to accomplish?”

  “Speculation: Based on the chemical make up of this beverage, the context in which you were to take it and the heightened gravy on your belt, I am 72% certain this was an attempt to increase your physical strength beyond normal human measure.”

  Good luck with that one. Mankind has been trying to do that for centuries. Never turns out well. Success is rare and never lasts the one generation. No amount of steroids or vitamin shots will last in the long term.

  “I am going to have a very long talk with Sagaci about this. And whatever they have been giving Joan. We do not need an intergalactic incident. My negotiation skills aren’t that great.”

  “Correction: There are no experiments currently being operated on Officer Joan at this moment which involve any form of additional chemical stimuli.”

  “Then what is she testing?”

  “Explanation: The Harvest race had no concept of “Working Out” prior to contact with the Union. Sagaci has taken it upon themselves to bribe Joan with rare snacks in exchange for testing her physical limits.”

  Looking out to the other side of the gym, it’s hard to see exactly what Joan is lifting. Though it becomes far more clear when she decides to just lift the entire machine.

  “You’re telling me she’s still not at her limit?”

  “Acknowledgment: Correct. The modifications to Joan’s form mean theoretically her upper limit is lower than in the previous body. However, that form was not at its physical peak. Neither is Joan currently.”

  “Well, that's not great. But hey, you’re a lot stronger than you were back then too, right?”

  “Rejection: Negative. Even her previous form is more physically capable than I am now?”

  “How?”

  “Explanation: My current physical body is 187% more massive than my previous model. However, only a small fraction of that is dedicated to physical augmentation. Much more was dedicated to increased armor, internal weaponry and tools and enhanced servos for more fluid motion. In a direct physical bout, I would still be inferior.”

  “Wow. And Raze, you still lose to him?”

  “Correction: I never stated I would lose to Joan in a battle. Merely that she was still a physical superior. The power suit utilized by Security Officer Raze would also hold a strength advantage. However, I now know of numerous tactical weak points that I could exploit and possess several weapons capable of penetrating the armor. The Ion Centralized beam I utilized in our previous battle could have easily ended either of their lives. The long charging time and my slower reaction phase meant landing a direct strike was virtually impossible. Next time, that will not be the case.”

  Next time huh? Better not tell him if there is a next time he’d be facing at least a dozen guys like Raze. I’ve got a hundred suits now and two hundred to pilot them with response teams ready in shifts. Hard to say who’d win now. Let’s hope it never comes to that.