Savage Genesis, part 20

---

MARCH 17th, 2002

The flight out of Logan airport was luxurous to say the least. Adam flew in first class and was pampered the entire trip. When he landed in Atlanta, a car was waiting for him. His bags were picked up and carried out to the car. The driver asked if he wished to go to the hotel first or if he wanted to head out straight to the SPW Compound. Adam couldn't imagine unpacking or relaxing, he was too nervous. He had the driver take him straight to the Compound.

The Compound, Adam discovered, was an apt name. It was located well outside the city limits of Atlanta and could be seen well before you actually reached it. At the center was a large domed stadium. Adam had seen the inside of it several times on "SPW Raw" and other such events. Peppered around the dome were smaller but still ample sized buildings. There was no exquisite design to speak of. They all seemed functional but little more than that. Around the perimeter were two rows of barbed wire fences, one in front of the other. The only way into the Compound in was past a guard post.

The driver stopped the car at the guard post. The guard walked out, he eyed the driver and Adam. The driver rolled down his window and the guard slid in a small metal box with a wire attached. The box was six inches squared and Adam could see from the back that it had a video screen on it. The driver placed his thumb on it. The box let out a small chirp followed by a beep and then flashed green.

"Hey, Dave," the guard growled. "How's the missus?"

"I ain't married," the driver responded with a smile. He handed the box back to the guard. The guard opened the gate and waved them through.

"What's up with the thumb print?"

"Designed to keep shapeshifters out. Mosy metamorphs can't fake fingerprints and if they could, they ask you a personal question to see if they can trip you up."

"Wow. You guys are really thorough."

"You have no idea," the driver replied. And he was right. Adam was dropped off at a large building. A man in a suit waited by the door for him.

"Mr. Savage?" The man asked.

"Yes."

"My name is Jenkins, Dan Jenkins. Please follow me."

The driver went off as Adam and his guide went inside the building. Adam was ushered down a hall to a room marked 'Psych Room.' Jenkins pointed to it.

"They're waiting for you inside. They'll just ask you some questions. When they're done. I'll take you to the next station." Adam, unsure of what exactly was going on, followed the man's instructions and went into the room.

The room was bright white. It was bare except for a desk and a video camera. A man with a round face sat on the other side of the desk. He motioned for Adam to take a seat.

"Hello, Mr. Savage. I'm just going to ask you a few questions. Please, get comfortable."

A few questions ended up being one hundred and seventy-two and that's not counting the mental puzzles and Rorscach tests. Adam had to explain how he felt about his mother's rape at the hands of an alien as well as his own abduction and torture at the hands of those very same aliens. He had to talk about his extended family, his love and sex life, his jobs (including his attempt at starting a lemonade stand when he was ten that lasted all of one day). He also had to talk about his fears, hopes, dreams and desires.

He left the room feeling violated and exposed. He was glad to be out of there and see Jenkins. Adam was not as pleased as when Jenkins took him to get a physical where he got probed, poked and prodded. To try and ease the tension, Adam pointed out that he at least purchased dinner for the last person he'd been that personal with. The doctor didn't smile, Adam couldn't tell if it was because the joke was that bad or because the doctor had absolutely zero sense of humor (in actuality, both were true).

The only good part of the physical was that the doctor seemed unable to draw blood from Adam. The tip broke off the first hypodermic needle the doctor tried to use on Adam. The doctor kept trying larger and larger sized needles, finally trying something that looked like a spear that once might have been used to harpoon whales. Adam breathed a sigh of relief when that needle broke as well. The doctor decided that extensive MRIs and X-Rays would just have to suffice.

After the doctor's office, Jenkins took him to his third and final stop on his tour of the Compound. It was a large gym full of equipment, all of it cutting edge. Adam wasn't really familiar with most of the equipment. He'd seen commericals for some elipitical exercise equipment but the people on television made it look much less threatening than it looked to him now, sitting there expectantly.

He was ushered from machine to machine, being given only a moment to catch his breath and stretch before starting the next one. Jenkins watched him, making notes on a small notepad that he kept tucked in his pocket. Adam lifted free weights, ran on the treadmill, did push-ups and more. Finally he was taken the last machine in the room he hadn't gotten on.

"What's that?" Adam asked.

"It's a bench press," Jenkins answered simply.

It looked more like a vending machine than a bench press. Unlike a normal press, this one did not have free-standing weights instead there was a bar connected to a large black machine coming out of the ground, a small LCD screen was apparent on the side of the machine that read '0 lbs.'

"That doesn't look like any bench press I've ever seen."

"Lay down and I'll explain it to you."

Adam did as he was instructed. He put his hands on the bar that lay in front of him.

"Now this operates like a normal bench press in terms of what you do. The only difference is that the machine is creating a force equal to much more than any weight we could put on a conventional bench press. I mean, it is not as if we could keep a half ton weight just laying around now, could we?" Jenkins asked with a chuckle.

Adam began pushing up on the bar. It was almost a joke to him, the bar flew up with great ease. He lowered it and lifted again. This time the bar seemed heavier, to resist more. The change was subtle but defintely there. He lifted again and again, each time the bar getting heavier. Minutes passed and Adam began to tire as the bar seemed to be almost too heavy for him to lift.

"Now try and hold it up as long as you can," Jenkins said simply. Adam had almost forgotten the man's presence he had been so quiet during this part of the workout. Adam extended his arms to their fullest and held it. He forced himself to breathe deeply and regularly. Take it slow, he told himself, take it easy.

"Good," Jenkins said. "Why don't you hit the showers and change."

Adam had been waiting to hear those words. He lowered the bar and got out from under the machine. His arms felt numb from the effort and his whole body seemed on edge from the adreline running wildly through his body.

He enjoyed his shower, staying in long after he was clean. He just relished the water running over his body. He was so in the moment that he hadn't noticed the change in his body. It wasn't until he turned the water off and started to towel off that he noticed that his scars were gone, they seemed to have healed themselves. Other than his improved physique there was no longer any evidence of his abduction.

He got dressed and walked out into the hall where he met with Jenkins again. Jenkins ushered Adam into a large boardroom in one of the other buildings. The room was circular with large windows along the walls, letting in copious amounts of light. A large oaken table sat in the middle of the room, men in expensive suits sat all around it. Only one seat was open at the far end, Adam was shown the chair and instructed to sit down. When he got to his chair he could see Power sitting at the end opposite him. Power had a large grin on his face, he began applauding as Adam took his seat. All the other men followed his example.

"Adam, these results are damn impressive," Power said. He held up a file folder and gave it a small shake.

"So what you're saying is I'm a super?"

"Oh there's no doubt about that. You can," and her Power opened the file and gave it a cursory glance, "lift about seventy-five tons. Your skin is practically impentrable, definitely bulletproof. Your sense of hearing and vision are absurdly better than a normal human's. As far as we can tell you don't need to breath, at least not oxygen. Also it appears you have a heightened healing factor."

Here Power leaned forward and lowered his voice a little, Adam couldn't tell if he was going for secretive or personal. "To be honest, you're the best we've ever seen. You even outranked Rockford. You are the first geniune class A super we've ever really had."

"Class A?" Adam asked. He'd loved supers his whole life. He knew all sorts of useless tidbits about supers culture. For instance, he could name every member of the Great Lakes Avengers, he could tell the difference between Captain Marvel and Captain Mar-vell and he even knew that Martian Manhunter had an affinity for Oreos. Despite his encyclopedic knowledge, however, he'd never even heard the phrase 'class A' before.

"Yeah," Power replied. "You see not all supers are the same amount of powerful. I mean, Thor and Booster Gold aren't exactly in the same league, you know what I'm saying?"

"Yeah," Adam responded. It sounded pretty obvious to him.

"Well, you can measure the extent of a super's power. There are four classifications of supers: A, B, C and D with A being the highest and D being almost non-existent. Some D's never even know they have powers."

"And I'm an A?"

"Exactly. Most of the guys we've got are really just flashy C's. Although we do have a couple of B's."

"So I'm more powerful than Major Pain?" Adam asked, amazed. The men in the room just chuckled. "Wow." He knew that the alien experiments had been to try and improve him but he had no idea of the extent of it.

"It's exciting. Well, Adam, here's when I make my offer to you. I want you on my program. I'm willing to offer you a million dollars for one show. Depending on how the ratings go and how you test, we can set up a more concrete contract and pay schedule."

"A million dollars?" Adam asked in disbelief.

"Yes. A signing bonus, if you will."

"You're gonna pay me a million dollars?"

"Yes. As well as twenty-five percent of T-shirts and other merchandise based on you. So, what do you say?"

"Fuck, yeah," Adam responded. The men in the room chuckled again.

"Well, let me give you a copy of the contract we've prepped. You can hire a lawyer and go over it yourself. Then call me up and we'll talk. In the mean time, let me show you your character design."

"Character design?" Adam asked.

"Lights!" Power barked. The lights in the room immeadiately dimmed and the shades were drawn. Panels of the wall behind Power slide open and a screen illuminated. Power picked up a slide remote and pushed a button. A grainy black and white photograph of Adam's crash landing in New York City appeared on the screen. The picture was taken as Adam crawled out of the crater his ship had created (Adam was glad that Power had had Adam's gentials blurred out of focus to preserve some of his dignity).

"This is the look I want," Power said simply. Adam was amazed at how he looked. With his long hair and thick beard, not to mention his scarred naked body, Adam looked like a destructive super. The photo also made it appear that Adam was crawling out of some sort of netherworld, as if Hell itself had rejected him. If Adam hadn't already understood why the police had opened fire on him, he more than understood it now. He was a little scared of himself.

"That's what I want. That power. That scary demeanor," Power added. He turned to look at Adam. "I know you've groomed a little since then but don't worry, we've got great wig people that can set you up. You know the Hangman? Totally bald. You'd never know it though, would you?"

Power turned back to the screen as he clicked on to the next picture. This one was a quite detailed pencil drawing of a wooly-looking Adam dressed in tattered clothes that tastefully covered his nakedness, the words 'artist conception sketch' was stenciled in the bottom right corner. "We'll play you off as primal. You are angry, you are tough but you are also a misunderstood behometh. Sort of like our own Hulk. You'll make a great supervillian."

He clicked to the next picture. It was a publicity shot of Igntion, a new comer to the SPW that Adam had only seen twice before his abduction. He had a red costume that was flame retardant which was a good thing as the rest of his body was engulfed in flames. Despite the fire, you could still see Ignition flashing a winning smile. He looked like the type of guy who would've beat Adam up in high school.

"We'll pair you up against Ignition. He hasn't quite clicked with the fans yet which is a shame because he tests so well with women. He's got this likeable thing that women just can't seem to get enough off and we need as many women watching as we can get." There were several nods and few murmured words of agreement. "His fire won't hurt you so he'd be a good match for you. It means he can get big and flashy with his flame which will look real good on camera. So what do you think?"

"Well, it's good," Adam said. He paused before meekly adding, "but I'm not a supervillian." The men in the room didn't say anything.

"Adam," Power said in a comforting voice as he sat up in his chair, "no one since the days of the Fireman and the Terror has anyone been a real hero or villian. We create motives for people to fight to help keep it interesting. I mean, it would be super-powered boxing if we didn't make up back stories for people."

"So Static and Major Pain don't really hate each other?"

"No. But Static is a spoiled kid from the suburbs so it'd be hard to justify him fighting anybody, see?"

"So you just come up with a story to set up the fight?"

"Exactly. So as I was saying, your pitch is that Ignition will defeat Needle and claim the Gold Belt. Then you'll come in and challenge him saying he's unworthy of the belt. The two of you will fight and you'll win by cheating. That way you look like a winner and Ignition looks honorable and can keep the belt," Power explained.

"What if Ignition doesn't beat Needle?" Adam asked innocently. "Maybe I could come in and tease him then he could challenge me to protect his honor."

"Um, Adam, the fights are rigged. We know who's going to win."

"The fights are rigged?"

"Yeah. It's a part of the story that we're trying to tell."

"I don't get it. So you get people to pretend to be different people and beat each other up until the person you've decided on is going to win?"

Power was quiet for a moment. "That is one way to look at it. But I'd say the better way to look at it is that we are telling modern day myths. Our characters are like gods descended from Mount Olympus. We give our viewers a chance to see the personality of these figures and watch as they struggle with each other. And then just like your classic myths, these stories give us a chance to learn a little something about ourselves. Haven't you learned something about love or hate or obsession from watching the SPW?"

"I guess I have."

"You see? That's what we're going for. And just like with the Greeks or the Norse or what have you, the people who are told the myth need to think it's for real. If they think it's pretend, they won't get any real emotional truth out of it."

"I can see that."

"How about we get the driver to take you back to the hotel. We've hit you with a lot of info. We'll leave you to go over the contract and let you take in everything we've said."

Adam thanked everyone and went out to the catch his ride. He rode on to the hotel in silence, glancing over the contract that had been handed to him. It had words like 'subsidary rights,' 'likeness' and 'intellectual copyright.' He didn't really understand it and as they pulled into the Ritz, he saw the elegant splendor of the lobby and when he came to his room (the penthouse, of course) he signed the contract and called up Power.

"Mr. Power, I'm on board," Adam said with commitment.
---

He came to the arena early on the night of his first match. He went through hair and make-up before heading to costume. He felt silly walking down the hall dressed that way. True it was based on a way that he himself had once looked but in his own defense, he has just escaped after being held hostage for months on end.

He went to the green room to wait for his fight. Since it was his premiere and he was an unknown, they hadn't given him too much to do. When it was time, an assistant would come and get him, lead him to the arena. He'd challenge Ignition to a fight. It was supposed to be a quick fight.

Catch up on past installments of Savage Genesis!

• Savage Genesis, part 1
• Savage Genesis, part 2
• Savage Genesis, part 3
• Savage Genesis, part 4
• Savage Genesis, part 5
• Savage Genesis, part 6
• Savage Genesis, part 7
• Savage Genesis, part 8
• Savage Genesis, part 9
• Savage Genesis, part 10
• Savage Genesis, part 11
• Savage Genesis, part 12
• Savage Genesis, part 13
• Savage Genesis, part 14
• Savage Genesis, part 15
• Savage Genesis, part 16
• Savage Genesis, part 17
• Savage Genesis, part 18
• Savage Genesis, part 19

Or read the whole Savage Genesis saga