I, Immortal

Chapter Three

The next morning, we took a cab to Protonet HQ for our first day of training. Cy brought along some papers he had received from his meeting with President Lund and the president of Bionix. Brightly colored renditions of cyborgs filled the pages.

"I'll get to choose the final design," Cy explained, "You know, placement of all the visible wires and ports. Don't want to lose my good looks in exchange for a bunch of implants sticking out of my head."

I nodded absentmindedly, my mind wandering. Lulu would arrive on my day off, two days from now; I'd paid for her flight and hotel stay, which left me with more than enough money to experience New York and pay for whatever expensive things Lulu might feast her eyes on.

Two's the limit, I promised myself. Two expensive things or two-thousand dollars, I couldn't promise myself which.

When we arrived at the gargantuan Protonet skyscraper, a dignified-looking gentleman, with stern eyes and a pout that made him look angry at everyone and everything, escorted us into the building, past a welcome desk and dozens of sharply dressed businessmen and women, to a large glass elevator.

"Ninth floor." The man ordered, and I promptly pressed the button marked 9. I looked down at my feet and nearly jumped in shock. Even the floor was glass! I could see straight down into the abyss of the elevator shaft, a very disconcerting, heart-in-my-throat sight. I closed my eyes, which amplified every movement of the ascent, but it was better than the feeling of floating in thin air.

"Will Mr. Lund be there?" I heard Cy ask eagerly.

"Tomorrow." The man replied shortly. Well, isn't he a proper Mr. Huffy?

"Will we meet the other...participants?" I could tell Cy was trying his absolute hardest not to say superhumans.

"Seven of them have already arrived, including yourselves. The others are running late." His voice carried notes of vexation and storm clouds.

Note to self: Don't be late and don't frustrate Mr. Huffy.

The sound of elevator doors sliding opening reached my ears, and I opened my eyes, stared straight ahead until I was out of the elevator. I hoped there were stairs somewhere.

The ninth floor was one spacious room filled with equipment and a small group of participants. Two muscular men were busying themselves doing complex flips on sets of uneven bars. Two girls sat on a pair of tumbling mats, talking between howls of laughter that made them sound like hyenas. In a corner of the room sat a quiet, petite girl staring at the wall across from her as if nothing else existed.

Maybe she's going to be the invisible girl.

"Feel free to talk among yourselves, try out the training equipment," Mr. Huffy stated, "Training will begin when those other three join you."

With that, he returned to the elevator, the doors slid closed, and he descended and disappeared. I wondered what he would have to say to those other three whenever they arrived.

Cy eyed me and shrugged. "Well, what now? Exercise or talk?"

"Talk...I guess." To be honest, I hadn't exercised since I failed PE back in seventh grade. A month into PE, the coach pulled me aside and said my heart just wasn't in it. He was right. I couldn't care less about jogging in place, not to mention lining up on a court to shoot basketballs over and over again. A week later, I quit. No one missed me. Twelve years later, I was tall and thin, but by no means muscular.

"Catch ya in a bit then." Cy gave my shoulder a friendly jab, then we separated. He headed toward the two men, who had left the bars to stretch; I strolled past the twin hyenas to the quiet girl. She's probably just shy.