Chapter 3

The HQ was a long way away from sector 67, and driving a limo on thin and crowded streets didn't exactly help speed things up. Norm's phone ran out of battery after a while, so he had to stare out of the window for entertainment- a feeling that, much like reading a book- would take some serious getting used to. Even the AI driver got bored and refused to steer the limo anymore, so Iron was forced to drive for the rest of the journey. To pass the time, he decided to lecture Norm on the correct way of getting girls (according to himself, at least.) 

"You see, it's all about body language," Iron rambled on to a disinterested Norm. "If there's a 0.2 second interval between her breathing and her blinking, that means she wants you to play hard to get, meaning you can only say 2.5 sentences every 3 minute interval. You should also be very very careful when texting, and send messages only in accordance with Dr Griftman's guide to talking to girls, which I got for 10,000 shekels using my golem discount." 

"Uh huh," Norm said absentmindedly, hoping that something other than a tall grey building would enter his field of vision anytime soon. 

"You also need to be as normal as possible. So no interests at all. Passion is the enemy in situations like this. You do not like ANYTHING, unless the girl you're after likes something. In that case, you've been a fan of it the whole time and- oh, we're here." Without saying so much as a simple 'bye,' Iron exited the limo and wandered off, leaving Norm up to his own devices. 

"Aren't you going to exit the car too?" the driving AI asked Norm. "We have reached the S3 HQ after all." 

"Huh? Oh. Yeah." Norm opened the door of the limo and stepped out, only to be greeted by the most extraordinary sight. 

He might not have noticed it if he passed it on an ordinary walk. He certainly didn't notice it when he was staring out of the window out of sheer boredom either. Maybe it was the muted grey exterior, or the way the watchtowers had a similar vibe to the skyscrapers around them. But since he knew what he was looking at, he could appreciate the majesty of the S3 headquarters. It was like a modern day castle with how vast it was. And peering past the watchtowers, Norm caught a glimpse of some state-of-the-art sports facilities. A tennis court, a basketball pitch, an open-air swimming pool... it seems the agents of the S3 were having a lot of fun in between their missions. 

"Hang on," a robotic voice cut Norm's trail of thought off. It was the driver AI. A mechanical arm extended from within the limo and handed Norm a wristband. "You'll need this. It's not a golem wristband, so don't expect to be able to work out or anything. But it is a S3 wristband, so our members will recognise you as one of our own."

"I see. Thanks." Norm felt a sinking feeling in his stomach as he realised he'd have to interact with a large amount of strangers very soon. There had to be a lot of secret agents in a building that large... he cursed himself for using all his confidence pills in one go. And then he cursed himself again for getting into this mess. Why, oh why couldn't he have simply said "Yes agent Iron, I never saw a Croat kill my boss with his robot testicles?" But resigning now would be too much effort, so Norm trudged to the HQ's reception while rehearsing awkward greetings in his head. 

"You don't look like a secret agent," the lady at reception said after seeing Norm's pallid, mouth-breather face. "But then again I suppose being undercover is the point. I have to say though, you're really good at this. If I didn't know otherwise, I'd think you're just an ordinary- wait a second..." Her eyes zeroed in on Norm's wristband. "That looks like the S3 symbol, yet there's no golem symbol accompanying it." 

"I-"

"Is that a knockoff from China? ARE YOU A CHINESE SPY?"

Norm wasn't prepared for such an aggressive confrontation and froze up on the spot. His mouth trembled wordlessly, and he felt like he might need another change of clothes any moment. He knew his silence and terrified look didn't exactly scream "no I'm not a Chinese spy," but he couldn't bring himself to utter a syllable. All he could do was watch as she screamed something he was too panicked to hear and started dialing a number on her phone. 

"What are you doing?" a familiar voice sighed. It was Agent Iron. He and a bunch of other S3 agents had answered the receptionist's cry for help and arrived at the scene. Besides Iron, who stood there with a disappointed look on his face, the other agents surrounded Norm and whipped out their pistols. "No weapons!" yelled Iron. "Guys, put those guns away now. You could cause something gross to happen and I don't wanna be around to smell it. And Sharon, you have nothing to worry about." He gave Norm one of those shoves that school bullies do instead of simply pointing at someone. "This guy might be an idiot, but he's not a Chinese spy."

"What is he then?" Sharon the receptionist asked. "A Russian? An Arab? His wristband doesn't have a golem symbol on it-"

"Actually, we started enlisting regular goyim into the S3 recently," Iron lied. 

"Since when?"

"Since... now. The higher ups realised that maybe giant muscle men in black suits aren't always the best option for covert missions, so we started hiring agents that can blend into crowds better."

"Why wasn't I told about this?" 

"Because..." Iron had ran out of ideas. But, like a movie studio with the rights to a popular mainstream IP, he kept going regardless. "...A-ha! You didn't know about this, sooo it's clearly working! Mr Beta here is one very stealthy agent, huh? Ok, conversation over." He started to walk away at a brisk pace. The other agents stood there confused for a moment before going back to their daily lives. 

Norm had no idea what to do. Should he follow Iron? Follow one of the other golems? Talk more to Sharon? After a few more moments of awkward silence he scuttled away from the reception desk and walked straight into a wall. Then he slipped through the automatic door next to it and ran off in embarrassment. 

The sports facilities might have looked cool from the outside, but they were even more impressive up close. Norm had never been able to play any sports, since he wasn't a golem or a golem-in-training, but he always found the whole thing fascinating. Watching others play was better though, he decided. After all, that way you can experience the game without breaking a sweat or having your body ache all over. Yet for some reason, not a single agent was out here playing. Iron did mention the life of an agent was super busy so that checked out though. These sports facilities must be intended for use on a public holiday, like Government 3 Days, or the "summer holiday" people were theorised to have celebrated in the distant past. The pool in particular caught Norm's attention though, mainly because it was a scorching hot day. If he took a swim it would be fatphobic, but what if he just entered the pool and didn't make any demanding movements...? Nah. It wasn't worth the risk. Norm left the sports facilities and continued on his awkward journey to nowhere in particular. 

Most of HQ was comprised of offices, where agents were briefed on their next meetings and discussed strategies to help ensure the safety of the country. There were also several ginormous training facilities, where agents honed their skills against a horde of robotic opponents. Norm kept on walking, taking in the bizarre sights all around him. In fact, he was so enthralled by his surroundings, that he didn't realise where he was going and walked straight into a room that sent shivers down his spine.

It was a gym. 

Norm sprang back out of the room in shock. It was his first time seeing such an institution, and it was not a welcome sight. He'd seen so many videos explaining about how fitness was a pipeline to all manner of far-right ideologies, and he did not want to be a part of any of that extremist bullshit. More importantly, it was illegal. Up until now, he'd been a model citizen, and he wasn't exactly in a hurry to shatter his reputation. He decided he'd pretend he didn't see anything and continue wandering the halls of HQ. 

"Hey!" a nasal, obnoxious voice called out to him. Norm span around to see a secret agent with a rather peculiar physique glaring at him. This man's upper body was a colossal mass of muscle and veins that would put even agent Iron to shame, yet his legs were like a pair of toothpicks in comparison. His hair was a curly perm, and his facial features were scrunched up in a permanent scowl. "You look small! You should hop on the juice!"

"I haven't had juice since I was a child," Norm said. "Most of the time I drink almond milk lattes, or water if I need to take my pills-"

"You know what I mean!" the agent gave Norm a shove that sent him sprawling on the floor. 

"Government-dammit agent Clay, not again!" another agent snapped as he exited the gym. This man had a more balanced upper and lower half than Clay, and although he was less vascular he still had an extremely impressive build. "I've told you a thousand times already. You save that attitude for the prisoners in our illegal detainment centres and no one else-" 

"Oh please," scoffed Clay. "Look at this guy! The fuck's he doing here looking like that? How'd he even qualify for golem status?" 

"Actually, I'm not a golem," said Norm, getting to his feet. "I'm, uhhh, part of a new initiative to allow goyim into the S3. It's to look more crowds in stealthy- I mean look more stealthy in crowds. Sorry."

"Hmmm." Clay narrowed his eyes. "Lemme guess. Agent Iron?" 

"Y-yeah, he's my... m-my... p-partner in crime." Norm clenched his fists so hard his fingernails began digging into his skin. "Wait, that was probably a bad way to word it, given what this job's all about but-"

"I-I d-d-don't f-f-fucking believe you," leered Clay, purposefully mocking Norm's nervous stutter. Flecks of spit flew from his mouth with each mock stutter, landing right on Norm's face thanks to Clay getting up close to look more menacing. "Whatcha bribe him with? A porn link? A subscription to one of those online whores?" 

"... Huh?" was all Norm can muster. 

"I never thought I'd say this, but I'm siding with Clay here," the other agent said with a weary grin. "There's no point in acting dumb- Iron's pulled this gig time and time again. He's given away government secrets and experimental laser guns to civilians in exchange for a few pics of naked ladies, even though he knows damn well from experience you can get that stuff online for free. If he wasn't so good on the field he'd probably be rotting away in some secret underground prison." The other agent let out a chuckle before continuing. "But anyways, this is the first time a briber's asked to straight up join the S3. Forget what pornos you gave Iron... I wanna know what the hell you're after, goy."

"...B-balls," was all Norm could say in response. The other agent was probably going to say something like a sarcastic "ha haa," but no sooner had he said the first "h" agent Clay interrupted him in a fit of rage. 

"Very fucking funny, you piece of shit!" Clay shoved Norm to the floor once more. "Agent Snow here asked you a question! If you're not gonna give a straight answer, then what's stopping me from-"

"Oh my government Clay, give it a rest!" sighed Snow, burying his face in his hands. "Leave the poor guy alone. He's not some brown kid in a children's hospital, he's one of our own civilians. The people, mind you, we are supposed to be protecting."

"N-uh," retorted Clay. "According to him, he's a secret agent of the Sector Surveillance Squadron. We take on national threats every other day. Surely a tiny shove won't mean much to someone like that." 

"C-clay's right," Norm said through gritted teeth. He slowly but surely got to his feet. "I am one of you guys. And I'll prove it right here."

"Damn. You have more resolve than I thought," remarked Snow. "But just a heads up, simply having a S3 wristband doesn't prove you're one of us." Norm collapsed to the floor again. "Aw really?" Snow complained. "I was gonna give a motivating speech about how it's the agent's actions that prove his worth, instead of his uniform or whatever... aaargh, government-dammit, Agent Iron." He then remembered they were right by the gym and got an idea. "Say, goy. How about you get a quick workout in, just to show that you're willing to put your body through something physically demanding?"

"Um, hello-o?" Clay waved his hands around in an exaggerated manner. "Fatphobia laws???" Snow took of his wristband and tossed it at Norm, who failed to catch it. 

"There we go," said Snow. "Now let's see what Iron's latest buddy has to offer." 

After Norm picked up the wristband and put it on, it was time for gym. Every muscle in Norm's body was telling him to turn back. After all, this was something he was so used to viewing as the highest taboo. But as with the vast majority of cases, the more restrictive laws only applied to the bottom castes of society. Regardless of how stupid the reason was, Norm had climbed up a few rungs on the ladder. And it was time for him to see the view from higher up. 

"Just a quick tip," smirked Clay as they reached the bench press. "If you don't bench 225lbs, you're GAY." 

"Stop discouraging the newbies, Clay!" Snow snapped, giving the broccoli-haired agent a slap across the face. "We all have to start from somewhere, and we all progress at different rates. Don't spread that crap around." Upon turning his head, Snow realised that Norm had asked some friendly gymbros to load up the bench with 225. "Don't do it goy, you've never benched in your life before and-"

Before he could finish his sentence the bar had already fallen on Norm's chest. 

***

Norm kicked a tennis ball in rage. He didn't care that his chest hurt like hell. All he could feel was a mixture of anger and disappointment. He picked up a racket and threw it, causing it to land a short distance away from him with a clatter. 

"Why?" Norm grumbled. "Why couldn't I do that? It's not fair!" He turned over a bucket full of tennis balls and kicked a bunch before getting on his knees to punch the rest. Norm's hissy fit at the tennis court had been going on for a while now. He just couldn't wrap his head around how he failed to prove himself to Clay and Snow. He, Norm Beta, the model citizen who always turned up to work an hour early- had failed to prove himself. And with that, his dreams of avenging his dead boss drifted further and further away. 

"LIFE SUCKS AND I HATE IT!!!" he bellowed, picking up another racket and hurling it into the distance. But there was no clatter this time. Had he somehow flung the racket so hard it landed outside the HQ? A quick look in front of him confirmed this was not the case. A familiar man stood on the other side of the court. A familiar man with short brown hair and an oval-shaped head, bouncing a tennis ball on the ground with one hand and holding the racket Norm threw in the other. 

"I'm sorry to hear that," the cyborg said. "Would a quick game cheer you up?"