You Don't Know Jack

Jack felt the burn as he got to eighty but pushedit until the pain started to distract him from his count. He got to one hundredand then stopped and laid in a low plank position, breathing through the pain.

Getting soft, Jack, hethought to himself in annoyance as he climbed to his feet.

He grabbed a towel and wiped his face andshoulders of sweat. The good thing about being in the Fed brig was that theFeds had better facilities.

He rolled his shoulders. His pecks were burning.He got a drink of water and then looked around. Half of the people in thecompartment were either asleep or pretending to be asleep.

He looked at the room’s ceiling. There was no goodplace to do pull-ups. Damn. His eyes wandered over to the rack. Heflexed his hands. He’d need to find a way to get a good grip, probably with theminimum amount of padding. And tucking his long legs up would be a hassle.

“Don’t even think of it,” Earl growled from hisseated position. “Why don’t you call it a day, Jack?” he demanded. “Geesh.”

“I’m out of shape,” Jack grumbled. “Besides, canyou think of anything better to do? It isn’t like we can go for a stroll orplay cards or watch a movie,” he pointed out.

They were in orange jump suits. They had beengiven the jump suits when they’d come on board. They had gone through athorough cleaning and deep scan. He’d wondered about that but hadn’t saidanything to the medical personnel. They had been in full decontamination gear.The robots had handled direct contact initially.

It had seemed a bit thorough for an investigation,but Jack hadn’t complained like the rest. After all, they’d been in Xenocontested space, and the Feds were probably wary of changelings. And rightlyso, he estimated with a mental nod.

One point for them in their favor, hethought in amusement.

Earl grunted, bringing him back to the here andnow.

Jack rolled his shoulders again. That set made forhis third of the day. He couldn’t lift anything; he was stuck doing basicexercises in the confines of the brig. His left hand drifted to his abdomen. Hewasn’t certain he wanted to do any more abdominal exercises. He’d done them theday before. Too many and he got the shits. As much as he liked losing weight,getting stuck on the crapper in the brig was not fun. He didn’t want to getdehydrated either.

He shook his head in annoyance and leaned againstthe bunks. He should be use to confinement. He’d been stuck in the brig manytimes and that damn prison el Institution up until two years ago.

That hadn’t been his only escape of course. But ithad been … challenging. Once he’d determined that he’d need support, he’drecruited Wire, Cyrus, Earl, and Casey. Together they’d managed to build a 3Dprinter, build suits and tech they needed, and then escape the supposedlyescape-proof space station and get on board the Sweet Boni Blackheart, aCleveland class light cruiser that had been in the star system to do abit of trade.

He had sweet talked the skipper and more or lessseduced her. He’d kept on her good side and in her bed and helped guide herinto accepting them.

They’d probably would have made a good team if notfor the Xeno invasion, he thought. They’d been lucky to escape to Tausector when so many other ships hadn’t survived the journey.

He broke off the wool gathering again with somedifficulty. The space really forced you into self-reflection. He glanced overto Wire. He couldn’t tell if the guy was asleep or not. He looked up andaround. He spotted the cameras and glowered at one. You’d think someone wouldhave done something by now.

~~~@~~~

Jack felt time melt away, and he was back as ascrawny adolescent working out in junior high school. He’d skipped a few gradesso he was behind the physical curve in PE and it showed. He was big for his agebut the testosterone of puberty hadn’t kicked in yet.

The class mocked him as he struggled to dopull-ups. He kicked and tried to pull himself up until the coach told him tohang and do it right. “Reach for it, Jack!” Reacher, creecher, creeper …,” Owenmocked.

“No it’s creeeacher,” another voice mocked.Jack turned his head and saw Bill making a snarling face and curling his handslike a ghoul as he kept saying creeacher over and over.

“Congratulations, Jack, you managed two pull-ups.That is better than last week when you could only do one I suppose,” CoachCarter said dryly.

“You aren’t going to be on the team with that sortof body,” Jillian, one of the popular girls, mocked dismissively.

Jack flushed. He had a crush on the girl.

When he got home that evening, he found a bar andtried to practice pull-ups. He managed to do one but was exhausted. He alsomanaged three pushups. His ears burned from the strain as much as hisdispleasure in his ability to exercise.

The following day his body burned with aches hehadn’t felt since Robert had kicked his ass on the playground two years prior.They didn’t have PE but he still tried to do a pull-up at lunch in the gym. Andhe managed four pushups.

When he got home from school that evening, hemanaged another pull-up and five pushups. His body burned under his armpits andhis arms but he felt good.

~~~@~~~

He’d hated the creecher nickname growing up. He’dhated the Reacher nickname almost as badly, but it had stuck when he had bulkedup and the old name faded. But what didn’t kill you made you stronger hereminded himself firmly. He’d turned that negative energy into incentive toimprove his body.

The bullying had worked. He’d eventually bulked upto the point where he could go toe to toe as a tight end on his high schoolfootball team. And this was when most of the teams had Neo players on them. Youdidn’t want to wrestle a bruin or a Gashg if you were sane.

He’d done it on a regular basis and come outrelatively intact. No one in their right mind called him creecher when he hitthe eighth grade.

When the meals came, the others complained, butJack ignored the gripe session and just ate quickly and mechanically. He wasfamished from the exercise. His body wanted to replace the calories he had beenburning.

“Be glad we’re in the Fed brig. Remember the crapwe got in prison?” Earl finally reminded them.

That shut them up.

Jack kept his observations to himself. The foodwas okay. It wasn’t replicated, which was something. Most likely it was beingpulled up from the planet. No doubt that once they were underway the squidswould switch them to replicated rations and keep the good fresh food forthemselves for as long as possible.

Then the griping would really begin, hethought with a mental grunt.

“Beer would be nice. Better than water,” Caseygrumbled.

Earl glowered at him.

“I’ll stick to water,” Cyrus said. The othersglanced at him. He was usually a lightweight with the sauce. “I’d hate to seesome of you drunk and throwing punches,” he said.

Jack snorted softly as he licked his spork cleanthoughtfully. He then policed his dishes quietly with the others, sticking themback through the slot in the cell door for the guards to recover.

“What do you think they’ll do with us?” HammedLeguin, the chief engineer, asked.

“No clue,” Earl said with a shake of his head.They’d all asked that question every day.

“Just stay frosty. We’ve been through worse,” Jackreminded them.

Earl glanced at him and then away.

~~~@~~~