Budspy (1987) by David Dvorkin

Author:David Dvorkin [Dvorkin, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Mystery & Detective, General
ISBN: 9781719332200
Google: VmoLBgAAQBAJ
Amazon: 1719332207
Publisher: David Dvorkin
Published: 2010-05-14T21:00:00+00:00

The place Horst-Dieter took him to was huge and magnificent and superbly equipped. There was a large crowd using the equipment and running tracks and swimming pools and handball courts, and everyone Chic saw was well muscled and fit. "All Gesipo, I hope."

"Of course. Doesn't your Commission do something like this for vou?"

"I wish they did. They don't let us meet each other."

"What? That's amazing! Why, if I didn't know other Gesipo people, I wouldn't have any friends at all. Who else can we socialize with? What do you do about that?"

Chic smiled. "Budmen have no friends. Which way to the lockers?"

Horst-Dieter pointed the way. He also took Chic to a small office where towels and even workout clothing could be rented. To the impressively muscled older man there, Horst-Dieter said, "Put it on the agency bill, Mannfred. He's a guest. An American."

"You need an athletic supporter?" Mannfred asked. "Might be a problem. I've heard the Americans are bigger than other men."

"Nicht so gross," Horst-Dieter said. "Not that big."

"What?" Chic said in amazement.

"Was ist los? What's the matter? That's what I said."

"Uh, nothing. Nothing. No," Chic said to Mannfred, "no supporter."

Horst-Dieter said, "I have to leave. I have more work to do. Do you need a workout partner?"

Chic shook his head. "I always work alone."

He threw himself into it. Despite the large crowd in the place, the building was so large and the equipment and facilities so extensive that he never had to wait for what he wanted. There seemed to be endless racks of weights, innumerable benches and machines. The plates were all metric, which Chic found annoying, since he had to translate everything into English units before weighting his bar, and even then he couldn't get it to precisely the correct weight but was off by a pound or two for every exercise. But he was determined to lose himself in his workout and not find reasons to complain.

Chic felt weak and energyless, the result both of his dissipation of the night before and his long neglect of exercise, but he persisted. He was doing this more for his mind than his body, and every lift, every grunt, seemed to help. He persisted until his arms and legs and torso were shaking and would do no more and he was covered with sweat.

He sat on one of the benches and rested his head on his hands, elbows on his knees. After a time, he felt able to move again. He racked the bar he had been using, removed and put away the plates, and then climbed the stairs to the nearest running track, which circled the room he was in at the second-storey level.

He felt drained at first, without hope that he could complete even one lap, but he persisted and seemed to gain strength as he ran. Ahead of him, two women were running side by side at an easy pace. Both had well muscled legs, but only the taller of the two had a muscular upper body as well.

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