Neville inhaled deeply. With each stride across the ice, he felt his
body swell with strength, as the fabric of his speed suit tightened
around his growing muscles. He felt steadier on the ice. His short
red hair had grown out into a shock of brown hair with red highlighted
tips. He grabbed the red and white pole and spun around increasing his
speed as he completed the turn and shot toward his two South Korean
benefactors.
Ho Suk looked at Jung-Su and they both smiled. They smiled in unison
at Neville. The work wasn't even half done. They would begin
intensive training both physically and mentally, so that when the last
day of the resort stay came, JR Celski would have no idea that it
wasn't the real Apolo Ohno leaving with him. He doubted the TF Park
people would catch on either. The whole park was automated. TF's
automatically reverted at their scheduled time - as long as the
subject remained in the TF Park boundaries. The main entries were well
regulated, but Ho-Suk had already determined their exit strategy. They
would exit cross-country over one of the unmonitored borders. Their
two friends would meet them there, and enter the TF Park. They would
be the ones to exit as Ho-Suk and Jung-Su, and no one would know that
the real US Olympians had been smuggled out in the jockstraps of two
South Korean athletes. The plan was perfect.
"Oh, no," moaned Apolo sitting down hard on the bench in the work out
room. His muscles had just given way. He sat up in his sweat drenched
clothes and stared at the 35 lb weight on the machine.
"Not any more, Apolo, I guess your transformation is complete. Shaun
told me it was only for two weeks, so I guess we might as well make
the best of it," said Nate as he climbed on to the exercise bike. It
creaked ominously under his new girth.
"I look kind of like a goth?" muttered Apolo as he looked into the
mirror. He hadn't noticed until now how pale his skin had gotten. His
dark hair looked weird with its red roots. He hadn't been super tall
before, but now he was at least 4 or 5 inches shorter. He walked
awkwardly over to the medical scale in the corner of the room.
"Ninety-seven pounds," he read. "I'm a 97 pound weakling. Well, not
for much longer."
He climbed on to the exercise bicycle next to Nate, and started
pedaling like mad.
"Message for Nate Holden & Apolo Ohno?" asked a delivery man standing
in the doorway of the practically empty gym.
"Over here!" shouted Apolo in his now extremely high pitched voice.
Everything about this body irritated him more and more.
The delivery man frowned, but said they looked like the photos on his
electronic pad. They signed receipt and each got a crisp envelope,
which they promptly tore open.
Inside were letters detailing their special training regimen if they
wanted to become all that they could be. There were some oddly
derogatory comments about them both being dicks and bringing it on the
themselves. But they ignored this focusing on the promise for "hanging
out with jocks again." Some of the wording seemed wrong, like it
wasn't written by an English speaker. One passage really disturbed
Apolo, it read, "do as you are told and in know time you'll be back in
my jockstrap all snug and strong."
"It means, you'll be back in your jockstrap, Apolo, obviously these
guys used some sort of translator program. You think they're Chinese
or Russian or -" Nate blathered on.
"Korean," said Ohno softly. Fear tinged his voice. He suspected, but
did not know yet. He looked at the letter. What choice did they really
have. He folded up the letter and started back on the bicycle. He
thought best when he was in motion.