Too High a Price

Chapter 1

General Walker scowled at me in silence, apparently trying to make me squirm as I stood at attention in front of his desk. He was one of those guys who's crusty command persona was no act and that was one reason he was in charge of this obscure military base in the middle of the Alaskan wilderness. He just wasn't welcome among the polite social climbers who currently infested the Pentagon.

I wasn't either for that matter. We were two of a kind; tough, battered and scarred though as a newly promoted Ranger Captain, I was half his age. I had been here for two weeks now, resting up for whatever new mission that the brain trust would come up with next and were too chicken shit to do themselves.

Finally the General was satisfied with his theatrics, and with the fact that I was not impressed. He leaned back in the fifty year old government issued chair and opened his desk drawer. He reached in and pulled out a pair of fat cigars.

"Stogie?" He growled.

"Don't mind if I do, Sir." So that's how it was going to be. He was dispensing with the commanding officer persona and going with the neighborly routine. I reached out for the cigar after he clipped the end and leaned in for the offered light. The pungent smoke swirled around my tongue and I looked up, blowing the cloud up into the ceiling fan.

"Have a seat John. Take a load off."

So we were past neighborly and all the way to hunting buddies. Interesting. I made myself comfortable in one of his guest chairs and watched him light his own cigar, waiting patiently for him to get around to telling me what he wanted from me.

"So how's your old man these days, John?"

"Not good. He's in a nursing home though honestly, he doesn't know it. It's just as well since the stroke put him in a wheelchair and he can't feed himself anymore. Hell of a way to go."

"Have you seen him lately?"

"Yeah, just three weeks ago. More than likely for the last time."

"Sorry to hear that, especially since your Mom passed last year."

This was turning into a disturbing trip down memory lane. Not because I didn't want to talk about it, not being all that close to them these past few years, but because the General was clearly sneaking up on the possibility that my next mission had a low probability of survival. Somehow I didn't think he was looking for a response so I just waited for him to get to the point.

The General started to speak, then hesitated, seemingly tongue tied. His brows furrowed in thought and he sighed in apparent frustration before starting again. "Captain Furguson, John, we have a mission... a, uh, vital mission that will require you to do something that you really aren't going to like."

John slammed his eighth empty Heineken on the bar and signaled the bartender for another. He was buzzed but at two hundred and thirty pounds of lean, hard muscle he had plenty more to go before he got drunk and he had every intention of getting shit faced drunk.

After another swig John spun his barstool around and surveyed the poorly lit bar. There were a couple of rough looking locals playing pool at the lone pool table and an older couple dancing to a crappy bro-country song. Two decent looking thirty-ish women were drinking at the far end of the bar. All in all it was a typically slow Wednesday night.

The front door opened and a slim brunette walked in, backlit by the eleven PM sun. She looked around the bar until she noticed the other two women and then she smiled as she headed their way. She glanced John's way and made eye contact, holding it for a moment too long.

John turned back to the bar and resumed drinking, glancing occasionally at the TV and the rerun of an ancient "Friends" episode. Around midnight, the brunette slid into the empty barstool next to him.

"Do you mind if I join you?"

Turning to her, his eyes swept from her eyes to her lips, pausing at her probably fake breasts and then continuing down her legs encased in skin tight jeans to her impractical high heeled boots. It was a very forward and ungentlemanly gesture but she didn't seem to mind, she clearly wanted to be noticed. He extended his hand. "I'm glad you came over. My name is John."

"I'm Elizabeth. I've seen you on base a few times. I work in the Admin building."

"I do remember you now. You work for Colonel Haynes, right?"

After her second drink, Elizabeth took John's hand and dragged him from the bar. She was giddy and he was smiling, happy that his plan to get shit faced drunk had been abandoned. The sun was still bright though low in the sky and it was cold outside, too cold to linger.

When they got to her pick-up she turned to him and reached up to kiss him. He kissed her back almost desperately, crushing her against the freezing cold truck. They kissed and their hands wandered to all the places they fantasized about back in the bar until out of breath, she pulled back.

"Do you want to follow me?"

He chuckled at her uncertain tone. "Of course I do. I'm parked right over there. I'll be right behind you."

When they arrived at her modest home in an older heavily treed neighborhood they were all over each other before the front door was even closed. Clothes were strewn throughout the house in a path leading to her bedroom. By the time she found herself on her bed she was naked and staring in awe of his physique. She knew that he was a fine looking man but had no idea that he was so big and ripped. She guessed that he was six two and way over two hundred pounds with broad shoulders and a prominent six pack.

It was the monster rising up before her eyes that had her shaking in apprehension though. She had never seen anything quite like it before. Her eyes were wide with fright as he approached her, crawling slowly over her. Finally he kissed her and she closed her eyes as she felt him touch her. He pressed on and her wetness allowed him to force his way in.

It hurt her at first but John went slowly, letting her stretch and get used to him. He had been through this before and knew that he had to take it easy with her at first. When she began to respond he sped up, faster and deeper until she began to lose control. She clung to him, moaning, coming again and again and finally he took his turn. He grabbed her ankles and placed them on his shoulders, nearly folding her in half and then he pounded into her relentlessly.

Elizabeth was screaming in her ecstasy when he began pumping into her. Finally he stopped, pushed as deeply into her as he dared to go and he emptied himself into her. He let her legs down slowly and she groaned in relief as he slid out of her and lay beside her.

She turned her back to him and snuggled in close. John pulled the covers over them and lay his arm over her, holding her as their heart rates slowed.

"That was intense."

He inhaled her scent, a fresh floral shampoo and he smiled in the dark. "I hope I didn't hurt you."

"Oh no, it was... wonderful. I really needed it. You did too, I think." When he didn't respond, she continued. "Is everything alright? You seemed... frantic; desperate, almost afraid."

He didn't respond at first. Her assessment of him was shockingly accurate and for some reason he felt right admitting it to her. "The Army has asked a lot of me over the last ten years. I've always been happy to do my duty, to risk life and limb for the mission. There's always a risk, a chance that your life will come to an end. But it's usually a small chance and that makes it possible for us to put it out of our minds and get on with the mission. This time though, it's not a small chance. I think it's a sure thing. I won't be coming back, not intact anyway."

"I hope it's important. I hope it's worth it."

"Yeah, it's important. I'll do it but, yeah I'm afraid."

Elizabeth reached behind her and stroked him gently until he became hard again and sighed with contentment when he slid back into her. This time they clung to each other and made love, giving each other the comfort that they craved.

Chapter 2

"It doesn't look like much from the outside but this is one of the most classified labs that the Pentagon owns."

The General stopped and turned to John, looking him square in the eye. "You can never speak of this. Ever. If word of this got out it would change the world and not for the better."

"I understand, General."

John watched as the General typed a code into the keypad and placed his hand on the palm reader. After scanning for a few seconds the door lock clicked and he followed him into a dark foyer. The lights came up and after another minute the next door opened. When they passed through it was apparent that these were heavy blast doors. They took their security seriously here.

In the next room an armed and uniformed guard wanded them thoroughly, including the General and let them pass without a word. The next door was an elevator and after an unknown depth, they exited at the end of a long hallway.

"As you can see, security is tight here. A lot goes on down here and even I'm not privy to most of it."

They stopped at an unmarked door and the General keyed in yet another code, revealing a huge room, probably fifty yards long with very high ceilings. The lighting was dim, dark even towards the walls. There was an eerie glow emanating from dozens of computer monitors but most of the light came from the tank in the center of the room.

As they got closer John could see the details of the huge tank filled with a strange swirling fluid that gave off a sickly green glow. Tiny bubbles floated throughout giving the impression that the fluid was thick and syrupy.

"Well John, this is where you'll be for the next three weeks or so. I know that you have some questions but I'm not the guy to answer them."

The General signaled to an attractive middle aged woman in a long white lab coat, her hair up in a bun, standing on the edge of the gloom among a dozen or so others dressed similarly. As she approached, she looked up at him with the self assurance of someone who is comfortable being in charge and introduced herself.

"I'm Doctor Heisman, lead scientist on this project. You, I'm told, are to be referred to as number eleven."

John didn't respond to her introduction or to the implication that they weren't cleared to know his identity. He smirked at his new name, number eleven.

All business, the doctor resumed her briefing. "This tank is of course where the transformation will occur. It is filled with a synthetic fluid similar to amniotic fluid that will protect your body from any infections or contaminants that might interfere with the process."

"How long will I be in there?"

"Given your size, we estimate a little less than three weeks." She gestured to the other scientists who were paying close attention and continued. " My team will monitor your progress around the clock though the actual process is pre programmed and automated. If any anomalies occur they are fully capable of stepping in and making corrections."

"How many times have you done this?"

"Ten."

"Ah, number eleven."

"Precisely. As to the process, we will inject several billion nanites into the fluid. These nanites will enter your body through your skin and travel throughout, making changes on a subcellular level. Your body, the cells, muscles, bones and nervous system will be the building blocks that the nanites will use to reconstruct you."

"So in a sense I'll still be me, only not."

"If that thought helps you to accept the new body as your own then by all means, hang on to it. The main part of your body that will be relatively undisturbed will be your brain. Your memories and thought processes will not change. You will still be you."

"Will I be awake during the procedure?"

"You will be mildly sedated and only semi conscious. You'll be vaguely aware of your surroundings but unable to move. And you won't care. It will be like a dream."

"Do you know what I'll look like?"

"No, I'm sorry but that aspect of this program was done elsewhere."

John looked at the General who for some time had been quiet, hanging back during the tour. The General scowled and answered the same question.

"No idea. Apparently that bit of info is above my pay grade."

Seeing that the General didn't know anything useful, John returned his attention to the doctor. "Unless you have somewhere else to be, we're ready to start now."

"Well that's my cue. Captain, you're making a hell of a sacrifice here. It's a shame that nobody will ever know about it. I wish you the best of luck." The General stuck his hand out and John shook it. "Thank you, Sir. I'll see you in three weeks."

It was getting late. John was tired and hungry after endless hours of medical tests but unfortunately the Doc wouldn't let him have a last meal. Finally after hours of X-rays, CT Scans and an MRI the Doctor led him out to the tank.

"Well number eleven, we're just about ready. The only anomalies that we've found are a small piece of leftover shrapnel, the screws and plate in your tibia and a ton of scarring. But don't worry, the nanites will take care of it and you'll be good as new."

"It'll be nice to be rid of that limp. At least there's a silver lining here."

"I'm glad you approve. Now remember, make sure that the rectal drain is inserted and seated properly. We don't want any leakage into the tank. The fluid must remain as pure as possible."

John gave her a disapproving scowl that the General would be proud of. The thought of something stuck in his ass for the next three weeks put him in a bad mood. He kept his peace though and dropped his skivvies, briefly enjoying the raised eyebrows on the Doctor's face. As he climbed up onto the platform and stepped into the warm fluid he hoped that whoever designed his new body would let him keep his monster.

From up on the platform the lab took on a sinister air. The cavernous room was mostly dark now, and completely dark out past the surrounding glow of the computer monitors. The sickly green glow that emanated from the tank gave the Doctor an aura of a mad scientist as she studied him so intently and the thought sent a shiver through him.

Not wanting to look weak or afraid in front of the assembled scientists, John forced himself to continue down into the tank. He stood neck deep in the fluid and for a moment it reminded him of liquid soap, thick and slippery with tiny bubbles floating within. The drain floated nearby and he reached out for it, uncoiling the transparent hose. It occurred to him that the shining steel device was shaped like a dildo and a rather large one at that. Someone here was a sick fucker he thought.

Reaching behind, he aimed the device and pushed it in. Despite it's exaggerated size it slipped in easily enough due to the lubricating fluid. It became uncomfortable as he pushed it further but finally, after a few deep breaths the unwelcome invader was in place.

The respirator hung nearby and he unhooked it, placing it between his teeth like the scuba respirator he had used so many times before. Taking a few test breaths, he satisfied himself that he wouldn't drown and then closed his eyes as he dipped below the surface. In moments he began to relax and knew that the mild sedative was taking effect. Suddenly the drain that was embedded so deeply in him began to vibrate and move around. He reached around behind and touched it, trying weakly to pull it out but it had somehow attached itself and wouldn't move. The vibration lessened to a gentle buzzing and to his horror, he began to get an erection. In moments he was hard as stone and at his full impressive eleven inches. His last conscious thought was to wonder if the Doctor could see it.

As the days went by Doctor Heisman and her team monitored number eleven's progress. The nanites were very active and the tiny bubbles in the glowing fluid drifted energetically about, obscuring the patient from view. After the first week it became apparent that something unexpected was happening and the Doctor called General Walker.

The General stood irritated in front of the desk, noting with disapproval the papers strewn haphazardly about. "I'm a busy man, Heisman. Why did you call me down here?"

The Doctor bristled at his purposely leaving off her title. "I called you because something strange is going on with number eleven. His body mass has been shrinking steadily and has gone from two hundred and thirty six pounds to one hundred and forty in ten days. There have been ten of these transformations done. Total. And I've done them all. I've never seen one that was this radical, with this much change in body mass. Are you certain that the design was done correctly?"

"Look Doctor, I've told you before, and it was the truth, I have no idea what the design is. I can only assume that they know what they are doing." He furrowed his brows in thought. "Are there any other anomalies?"

Doctor Heisman picked up a folder and rifled through it before pulling out a printout. She studied it before answering. "His testosterone levels are down and his brainwave activity is way up. I really don't know what to make of it."

"Well Doctor, carry on for now. I'll make some calls and get back to you. It may take some time though because this is so highly classified."

"Thank you General for coming down. I'll let you know if anything changes."

Doctor Heisman went out to the lab floor to get a more detailed status from her team. It was quiet as always with only the faintest hum of pumps and computer cooling fans. At terminal six she pulled up a chair and sat next to Doctor Simmons to have a quiet word.

"Well Gene, how are things progressing today? I don't need any details, just a summary. And your thoughts."

"Are you alright, Cynthia? You seem stressed."

"I'm fine Gene. Just a little concerned about the patient, that's all, and I got no help from the General. It seems that he's completely in the dark."

Doctor Simmons sighed and turned to the monitor, pulling up a new window. "Sounds like we're on our own then. So to answer your question, I'll start with the foreign objects. The plate and screws were made from medical grade titanium, so almost pure. The rate of titanium expulsion peaked two days ago and went to zero last night. The piece of shrapnel was hardened steel and the rate of iron, chromium and vanadium went to zero this morning, except of course for the constant iron loss that coincides with the loss of body mass."

"Where are we, on the body mass?"

"Down to one hundred thirty two as of this morning. No change in the rate. Also, testosterone continues to fall, HGH is up though that is normal at this stage of the process. Bottom line is that this case is so far outside the envelope of our previous cases, I can't make any conclusions on success or failure. We've had seven consecutive successful transformations and I thought we had all of the bugs worked out but who knows. We'll just have to wait and see what comes out in twelve days."

"Thanks Gene, for the uplifting assessment."

The dream was drifting away like the morning fog. Number eleven became aware of his fingers, slowly moving them, curling them into a weak fist and relaxing them again. He curled his toes and took his first voluntary breaths. A strange sensation intruded, a slight vibration deep inside of him that slowly grew in power. His body reacted involuntarily, just a tremor at first, before he was wracked with spasms. He had never felt an orgasm like that but that had to be what it was. The vibrations increased more quickly in power and he suddenly knew that it was that thing embedded in his rectum. Just as the thought coalesced, he was hit hard by a shattering orgasm that left him dizzy and short of breath. Then his bowels spasmed and the thing was expelled, leaving a feeling of emptiness behind. It was time to get out of the tank.