FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Eight years later...

BOOOM!

A crater bloomed on the barren landscape, showering me with dirt and rock. Shaking the

detritus out of my fur, I heard the distinctive "foomp-fwissshhh" of another missile launch.

There just HAD to be a missile launcher there... I groaned.

Eight years of hard training had turned me from an innocent pup into a true predator. My lean body was pure muscle and sinew; not a trace of fat anywhere on my body. I could lift up to five times my weight, yet run faster than any human. My stubby claws had become curved razors, capable of slicing through most body armor. In short, you didn't want to get on my bad side.

I fingered the lucky credit chip hanging around me neck, rubbing a claw over the ragged hole in its center. It'd taken me two years of intense small arms training to nail that coin. Good times. These days, my daily exercises were not nearly as easy; I wasn't simply learning the art of war, I was mastering it. New Instructor (for some reason, I couldn't shake that old moniker) assigned me a mission everyday. If I accomplished the mission in a way that satisfied him, I would get a gold chit and a few bonus privileges.

Today's mission had been simple: take out the fortress. Embedded in the side of a mountain, this fortress was covered with thick armor plate that could shrug off the blast of a small A-bomb. I hadn't been given any intel on its defenses, but I was pretty sure it could repel all but the heaviest assault. Normally, taking out a fortress such as this would require a combined space/land/air assault, using the heaviest and most advanced weapons available. The only weapon I was issued was a silenced rifle.

Like I said, simple.

At first, the mission had been going smoothly. My fur had shifted to a mottled brown, blending in perfectly with the desolate terrain. A few well placed shots with my silenced rile had shattered the lenses of the perimeter laser emitters without even waking the sentries (whom I also shot). Everything was just peachy, until a missile launcher popped out of the foot of the mountain and got a lock on me...

_______________________________________________________________________

BOOM!

Another missile slammed into the ground about ten meters from my head. Whatever that launcher was using to track me didn't appear to be fooled by my camouflage. Thankfully, the missiles were anti-armor; designed for destroying armored vehicles, not soldiers. An anti-personnel missile would have burst a few feet above the ground, shredding me like synthetic cheese. Still, it was only a matter of time before whoever was controlling the launcher decided to switch missile types. If I was going to accomplish this mission without losing one or more limbs, that launcher had to be destroyed...and I already had an idea how to do it. "First, I'm gonna need a rock"

I grabbed a fist-sized rock lodged in the side of the crater and wrenched it out of the dirt, hoping that it would be enough. I slowly stood up.

"Foomp-Fwishhhh!"

Another missile shot out of the launcher

Wait for it...

It arched towards me

Wait for it...

It aligned itself perfectly with my body

NOW!

I wound up my throwing arm and hurled my rock as far as I could.

For a second, the missile was still heading towards me.

Crap...

Then...

BOOM!

The missile twisted in midair and exploded about 30 feet away, right where I'd thrown the rock. As I suspected, the launcher used a motion-detector targeting system, guiding its missiles towards any moving object that met its targeting parameters. It was the only way I could have been detected, and I was kicking myself mentally for not considering it. Fortunately, once it had locked on, the launcher didn't differentiate between the mass of two moving objects; it thought that the rock I'd thrown was me trying to jump out of the way.

Satisfied that my tactic had worked, I stuffed several large rocks into my equipment belt and ran towards the launcher as fast as my furry legs would carry me. As soon as I heard a "foomp-fwisshh" I hurled a rock. Missiles smashed into the ground like the lightning bolts of an angry god; none of them even came close to me. I kept this "throw-and-run" technique up until I was about 15 feet from the launcher, directly in its blind spot. Unable to detect me, the launcher deactivated itself and retracted into the ground.

A small door opened in what looked like an ordinary rockslide. "Must be the launcher's control bunker". I thought. A squad of enemy infantry rushed out of the launcher's control bunker, probably to investigate whatever had set off the motion detector. I unslung my rifle and...

Chuff!

Chuff!

Chuff!

Chuff!

Four dead soldiers dropped to the ground. "Not bad" I thought. "Third kill could have been a little cleaner, but not bad." I turned my attention to the retracted launcher; if the strategists who built this fortress had any brains (which they most definitely did), he would have installed dozens of launchers like the one that had nearly pasted me around the fortress's inner perimeter. I had a hunch: there couldn't possibly be a control bunker for each individual launcher; it'd be more efficient to simply slave them all to one master bunker. Most likely, the one right in front of me...

"Only one way to find out."

I walked through the conveniently opened door into a bare rock room about the size of a good-sized closet. Thinscreen displays attached to the rock walls displayed tactical data from what appeared to be thirty missile launchers, each arranged into batteries of three spaced about 300 meters. I thanked my lucky stars that I'd only been detected by one of the launchers. Otherwise, there'd be nothing left of me but a few scraps of fur and a crater.

I noticed a small figure cowering in a corner of the bunker. Probably the launcher's human controller; I could tell from the wet spot on the crotch of his pants that he wasn't exactly a battle-hardened veteran. Ignoring him, I sat down on the command chair, my tail bunching up uncomfortably against the back. I tapped a command icon on the paper-thin display and dragged the yellow cursor across the missile batteries. Another tap brought up a list of options:

Barrage

Concentrate Fire

Sentry Mode (enabled)

Shutdown

It seemed pretty obvious at first; just select Shutdown and the entire missile battery would go offline. But I had a better idea. I tapped the Concentrate Fire option; a red cursor appeared on the screen, along with a red circle representing the range of each battery. I dragged the cursor along the touch-sensitive thinscreen, and placed it smack in the middle of the Fortress icon. Another tap brought up a red text box.

Retinal Ident required.

A small lens popped out of the console and started flashing red.

Retinal Identification huh? No problem; I grabbed the quivering controller by the scruff of his neck, and jammed his eye up to the lens.

Beep

Beep

Beep

BING!

The lens flashed green, and another text box appeared on the screen.

Retinal Ident accepted. Repositioning all available launchers. Firing in Three, Two, One...

What followed was perhaps the loudest thing I'd ever heard in my 12 years of life. To my highly sensitive ears, it was like hearing an avalanche through an amplifier. I hurled the operator to the side, and clapped my paws over my ears, all the while looking at what my little command had done. Thirty missile launchers, each capable of lobbing a missile every five seconds, were emptying their magazines on the structure they were designed to protect. The base was partially buried in the mountain, and armored with six inches of titanium armor, but not even that could withstand about 360 armor piercing missiles per minute. Huge chunks of rock and metal were gouged out of the rock face; the mountainside began to crack. Then...

BOOOOOMM!!!

The fortress exploded in a shower of metal and rock.

The control bunker went pitch black

END SIMULATION

I pulled off a paper-thin interface helmet and the blackness turned into the inside of a Sim Capsule. With a grunt, I pushed the egg-like Capsule's cover open and climbed out, my tissue-like sensor suit soaked through with sweat.

CLAP!

CLAP!

CLAP!

I looked behind me and saw New Instructor slowly clapping his hands...and he was smiling! Usually, whenever I completed a mission successfully, he'd just give me my chit and send me off. The 100th chit must be pretty important for him to show any emotion aside from hostility and indifference

"Well done, Doggie, well done" he said.

As soon as he spoke, I quickly put on my "unquestioning loyalty" face. I gave an abrupt salute, wagging my tail in a way that suggested barely contained pride.

"At ease"

My hand returned to my side, wagging my tail like I was trying to fling it from my rear.

"You have every right to be happy. That sim was one of the toughest we've ever designed. The techies who programmed it bet me 100 credits each that you wouldn't even make it past the laser turrets"

"Looks like I'm a couple hundred credits richer".

"Thank-Thank you sir!"

New Instructor's face returned to normal.

"Anyway, for successfully completing tactical exercise 5102, you have earned a one day-shift break from studies, two extra dessert rations, and..." He paused, obviously trying to build up dramatic effect, "your 100th gold chit."

He walked up to my and pressed the shimmering chit into the palm of my paw.

As I kept up the "excited" act, I studied the chit. It looked just like the 99 others I'd received so far; a gold-colored metal disk the size of an old-style dime. What made the 100th chit so important? Was it some kind of milestone? Was it meant to be a trophy of some sort?

Still, I did my best to look excited.

"Sir, I...I'm at a loss for words"

"No need to say anything, doggie. You earned it"

"DISMISSED!"

With that, I turned around and padded out the sim room hatch.

"Oh, doggie..."

I turned my head

"Yes sir?"

"I almost forgot; because you've earned 100 chits, you'll also be receiving a "promotion" of sorts tomorrow at 4:00 day shift.

"Carry on"

As I padded towards an inter-Station mag-train terminal, I wondered what this "promotion" could be. Could it be a round of even more intense training? Could I be sent dirt-side to train on Earth itself? Or (dare I say it) could the Conglomerate be sending me on my first mission?

The mag-train glided in to the terminal.

Guess I'll just have to wait and find out tomorrow I thought as I stepped aboard.

The hatch to my quarters closed behind me like an old-fashioned camera shutter; I let out a huge sigh of relief. Keeping up this whole "blindly obedient supersoldier" act was murder on my nerves (on the plus side, it'd make for a promising career as an actor). Hanging my lucky coin on an unused clothes rack, I dropped my sweat-soaked equipment belt in the cleanser and plodded over to my small refresher. Splashing a little tepid water on my face, I looked in the refresher's small mirror; four hours of lying down in a sim pod had left me sweaty and bedraggled.

I could use a shower.

I stepped into the tiny shower cubicle and activated the emitters; the usual pleasant tingling spread all over my body, removing about a days worth of accumulated dust, sweat, and grime. A few shots of waterless, soap gave my fur a hint of lavender (I was seriously getting sick of the lavender. Why couldn't the maintenance techies stay with the pine scented stuff? I loved that smell...)

Feeling much better, I dialed a dessert ration from the dispenser. A small cake tumbled out with the usual "DING!"

I took a bite. Not bad; kind of like strawberry-flavored bread. Munching on the little cake, I padded over to my cot and plopped my furry rear down.

I felt a familiar lump under the memory-foam mattress. Strange I thought, Teacher already sent me a package. Teacher's packages arrived about once a week, usually consisting of a book or trinket of some kind. This week's had been a drawing easel and five color styluses. Hours of secretly accessing the Station's Net had given me access to various art portals. As a result, I'd taken up an interest in art. I didn't know how Teacher had known about my new found interest, but did I look like I cared?

Must be a mistake I thought, lifting up the mattress. Musta left a book under there and forgot about it.

To my surprise, there was in fact another brown package under the feather-light mattress. Astounded, I picked up the little parcel and took a closer look at it. It looked just like any other package: a roughly rectangular object wrapped in a brown, papery material, with a red square set right in the middle.

Shrugging, I pressed the red square. Usually, the brown wrapping would disintegrate, revealing whatever Teacher had somehow managed to smuggle on board Station. This time, it turned eggshell white. A single line of text scrolled across it: "Consider this a ‘graduation present'.

With that, the wrapping disintegrated into dust, revealing a pack of 40 color styluses.

All right! I rejoiced silently. The basic color styluses that came with just weren't enough to really bring my drawings to life. Excited, I pulled out the drawing easel from its hiding place. These new styluses would be perfect for that meadow drawing I'd been working on...

________________________________________________________________________

BZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!

The wake-up alarm jolted me from a perfectly good sleep. I glanced at the chrono:

Time: DU37

Dang, I had to get moving!

I hurried through my morning ritual. I straightened up the cot with an efficiency born of endless inspections, pulling the thin cover so tight I could bounce a credit chip off it. I hid Teacher's gifts under a loose flap of floor material, straightening up the edges till only someone with very keen eyesight (such as me) could spot it. I rushed over to the refresher and groomed my fur as fast as possible, then grabbed a breakfast brick from the ration dispenser and wolfed it down as fast as possible.

No sooner had the ration brick slid down my throat then my quarter's hatch dilated open. Two guards stood by the entrance, mag-rifles in hand

"Please come with us"

Not one to argue with authority figures holding weapons, I followed the black-suited guards. As they guided me through the Station's gently curved hallways, the fox part of my DNA started nagging me. RUNFASTDANGERDANGERDANGER!!! I tried focusing on something else, like the meadow scene I was drawing, or the Jules Verne fanfiction I was secretly composing (spoilers, it involved Captain Nemo fighting off aquatic aliens) but my vulpine instincts wouldn't shut up.

The guards finally halted in front of hatch; its blue stripes identified it as a lab of some sort. One of the guards tapped an icon on the hatch's control panel. A small lens popped out.

Retinal Identification please the panel asked in its bland, monotone voice.

I closed my left eye and stared into the lens. A thin beam of light shone into my retina

Beep

Beep

Beep

BING!

The hatch dilated open.

Identity confirmed. Access granted, Doggie.

Normally, I would wondered how and why New Instructor reprogrammed this specific console to call me that name, but right now I was too jumpy to care.

The lab was a veritable hive of white-coverall clad technicians. Some of them were prepping a large "X" shaped rack, while others were fussing around a man-size tank of blue liquid. What does this have to do with a promotion? I thought as I observed this cacophony of activity.

One of the techies walked up to me, and snatched my lucky coin off my neck

"Sorry, but I'll have to take this"

He handed me a jar of some clear jelly.

"Here, smear this all over your body"

I stared at him blankly.

"Okaaaaaay... this is weird." I commented to myself

The techie sighed

"It's just a protective gel for your fur. The liquid you'll be submerged during the procedure in is pretty hard on fur.

Wait a minute....liquid? Submerged? PROCEDURE?!!!

It all made sense now. My "promotion" was a full-out body enhancement operation!

For a brief second, my fur turned jet black. Memories of my birthing tube flooded my mind. Wired up...helpless...Fear...Pain.

I didn't want to go in that tank. I wouldn't!

I gave myself a mental slap to the head. I had to be strong. I had to be obedient. If this operation would lead me one step closer to my first mission and escape, then I'd better suck it up and take it like a man!

"Hey doggie, you ok?"

I looked at the techie, doing my best to suppress my emotions.

"I'm fine"

"Great, now will you please just smear this crap all over you? We don't have all day".

There's no need to be surly I thought as I smeared the cold jelly over my fur.

"Hurry up!" "the procedure will take long enough without you dawdling!

I smeared jelly over myself until the techie finally stopped whining.

"Good, now step over here and climb onto this rack"

Swallowing my fear, I walked up to the "X"-shaped rack and laid down on it; arms above my head, legs spread apart.

One of the techies, walked over to me, his breath smelling of coffee and various other stimulants. No wonder these techies were so surly. I realized. They've probably been working all night on this thing.

As if to prove my point, the stim-ridden techie rudely shoved something like a .50 caliber bullet into my ears.

TESTING, ONE TWO THREE!

I winced in pain. The sleep-deprived techie had forgotten just how sensitive my ears were.

"Sorry" he said, taking out the bullet and twisting its head a little. He reinserted it into my ear

"This better?"

I nodded.

"Good"

He nodded at a Techie looking at something on a thinscreen

"CHOCKCHOCKCHOCKCHOCKCHOCK!"

Five clamps popped out of the rack and neatly encircled my wrists, ankles, and neck.

One of the techies remarked how restraining me like this was kinda kinky. I didn't know what "kinky" was, but it probably wasn't good.

The stimulant-ridden Tech checked each one of the straps. Satisfied, he flashed another thumbs up to the rack operator. A tangle of metallic tentacles descended from an overhead manipulator and wrapped themselves tightly against the rack. The operator tapped another icon and I was gently maneuvered into position. I felt a gentle lurch as the rack was slowly lowered into the tank caught a whiff of something like cleaning fluid and anti-septic. The device in my ear crackled

"The tank is filled with an oxygen-saturated antiseptic. When the liquid reaches your head, take a deep breath. You may experience some discomfort at first, but you'll adapt quickly. Just stay calm"

Easier said than done; I wasn't a coward, but even eight years of training couldn't override a couple million years of evolution. My heart raced as the fizzing liquid rose above my knees. Only sheer willpower kept me from trying to wrench myself loose. The fluid enveloped the base of my neck; I instinctively tried to crane my head upward, but the neck restraint kept me in place. Only three inches were left before the liquid reached my nostrils. I shut my eyes.

Two inches

One inch.

Ice cold liquid invaded my sinuses. My body instinctively tried to force the liquid out, but there was simply too much of it. Air, I needed air! If I just breathed in some of the liquid, I'd be fine, but my body wouldn't let me!

C'mon dammit BREATHE!

BREATHE!

I opened my mouth and sucked a about a quart of liquid into my lungs.

It was as though someone had injected liquid helium into my veins. The pain was all but unbearable.

I clenched my fist and forced the liquid out, then back in.

Out

In

Out

In

Out

In

After a few "breaths", I started to get the hang of breathing liquid. It was kinda like trying to breathe antiseptic-flavored soda, but it was bearable. The worst was my eyes. It was like pouring a capsule of ice-cold water into each eye socket. I gritted my teeth and forced my body to bear the pain.

Through the anti-septic liquid, the Lab became a surrealist landscape of blue shades and blurs. I wondered how on earth the techies would be able to operate on me through this ice-cold soup.

One of the blurs approached the tank. Like the others, his/her features were mixed together in a bluish blur, but this one had a greenish blob stuck to his/her chest.

New Instructor

The New Instructor/blob raised one of his blurred hands to the side of his featureless head.

"Doggie, are you there?"

"Yes sir" I vocalized-trying to talk in this stuff would be impossible. My right arm twitched instinctively, trying its best to salute.

"Good, now listen up"

"If I know you, you've already figured out what your "promotion" is, and frankly, I think you should be proud."

Proud?

"The procedures we're about to use on you have only recently been developed. We're not even sure if some of them will even work"

That was never a good sign.

"Don't worry; we'll be monitoring your vital signs through that device in your ear. If something goes wrong, we'll pull you out as soon as you can"

I could have sworn that New Instructor sounded...concerned. Maybe he wasn't nearly as stony as I'd thought

"After all, you are the Conglomerate's biggest investment"

Well, scratch that idea.

New Instructor nodded; an array of robotic arms emerged from panels in the bottom of the tank, each one equipped with a different surgical tool. Some of them I recognized from my field surgery training; laser scalpel, hypo needles, and bone cement injector; others, looked like a lunatic's idea of what a medical instrument should be: an oversized toilet plunger, something like a miniature iron maiden, and a device that, quite frankly, looked like it'd come out of a 1950's B-movie.

The arm carrying the hypo pressed itself against my arm; I felt a sharp prick, then a slight tugging as the hypo pumped its contents into my bloodstream. My head seemed to grow 15 pounds lighter. My entire body began to grow numb. Just before my brain completely shut down, New Instructors words echoed through my head

"You are the Conglomerate's biggest investment investment investment investment...

_______________________________________________________________________

I was adrift in a sea of black. Not a black-colored liquid or the like; this stuff I was stuck in was the very essence of Black: cold, clinging, all consuming.

The sky of this strange place stood in stark contrast to the Black. It was the very essence of White: warm, soft, and embracing. Off in the horizon, where the two essences met, there was a patch of soft gold. For some reason, I felt that the Gold was safe; I should go to the Gold.

I tried swimming towards the patch of Gold on the horizon, but swimming through Black was like trying to swim through wet cement. Despite Herculean efforts to swim, it was no use. All I could do was tread Black and try to stay afloat.

Something like a sticky tentacle wrapped itself around my leg and started pulling me under. My canine instincts kicked in ,and I thrashed and kicked like a madman, trying to drive the horrid thing off.

The tentacle didn't even flinch.

The creature had pulled down to my shoulders in Black. Exhausted, I just gave up. The irony of the situation hit me like a brick.

I'd overcome challenges that were designed to be all but unsolvable. I could take out a squad of men with both arms tied behind my back...and here I was; food for some loathsome creature in an unearthly sea. What a way to go.

The creature had pulled me in up to my head. Already, tar-like Black started pouring into my mouth; droplets of it were invaded my nostrils. I closed my eyes and made my peace with the universe.

Something was engulfing my legs, working its way up to my torso.

Next thing I knew, I found myself floating in a formless expanse of White. Below me, the Black churned angrily, as if it was angry that one of its denizens had been deprived of a meal. Heck, for all I knew, that creature might have been the Black.

I looked around for my savior. Had some god plucked me from the Black dues ex machine style? Had the Black just spit me out? What was going on?!

Something yanked me towards a shimmering circle of Gold. I felt strange. Not frightened or grateful for whatever had saved me, but...tranquil. I felt as though I were being embraced by the mother I'd never had.

The Gold enveloped me like a warm blanket, then...

CLEAR!!!

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

POW!

Something hit me in the chest like a battering ram, and I found myself lying down on the rubberized floor of the lab. A medic wearing two defibrillator gloves stood over me.

"He's stable"

Every techie in the lab gave out a huge sigh of relief. I could tell by their smell that they'd been extremely tense while I'd been out.

"Wuh-What happened?" I croaked, coughing up a cup of anti-septic fluid.

The medic wiped off the coughed-up fluid off my muzzle. "We'd just finished the operation when your heart stopped.

My heart stopped? "Why'd it stop? What went wrong?"

"We don't know" "Could've been a side effect of the anesthetic, could've been a mistake by one of the surgeons..."

A group of green-clad techs glared at the medic

He continued "It could've been a lot of things. That's not important right now"

I heard the clop clop of regulation boots against the rubberized floor as New Instructor walked over to me, giving a very, VERY, faint scent of relief.

"Well, how is he" he asked the medic

"He's stable; heart rate s back to normal-well, normal for him, anyway-but there's no guarantee that he'll stay that way. I'm taking him back to Infirmary deck to...

"There will be no need for that. He will be just fine"

The medic stood up and looked New Instructor right in the face, the first time I'd ever seen someone try to stand up to him"

"Sir, with all due respect, this creature almost died!"

I could have sworn that New Instructor almost flinched when the medic shouted at him like that. Maybe he wasn't use to having subordinates standing up to him.

"We need to make sure..."

Before he could finish, whatever had unnerved New Instructor so much disappeared/

"No we won't!" New Instructor shouted, staring the medic down.

"THE CONGLOMERATE WANTS OUR CANINE FRIEND IN ADVANCED TRAINING AT EXACTLY 1000 DAYSHIFT, AND I INTEND TO KEEP THAT TIMETABLE!

UNDERSTAND?!!!

He looked at the technicians

"Get him cleaned up and ready for advanced training on the Rim. You have one hour."

With that, New Instructor turned around and walked out the open hatch. The medic followed, muttering about wouldn't be his fault if the ‘Conglomerate's ‘greatest investment' dropped dead during training.

As the techies hurried around, sponging the congealing liquid off me and checking me with diagnostic tools, I suddenly felt a great deal of respect for that medic. He'd stood up to a man who I'd obeyed without question for years, without any concern for the consequences. For a moment, he was far braver than I was.

About an hour later, I was on a magtrain heading to the Station's Rim, feeling more than a little nervous.

What did the Conglomerate do to me?

Did they install robotic servos in my limbs to make them stronger? I certainly didn't feel any stronger.

Maybe they'd installed some kind of tactical computer in my brain, allowing me to access tactical data at a thought. I stared at my hand

Analyze

Nothing happened.

Perhaps, just perhaps, the Conglomerate went way overboard and installed physical weapons inside my body cavity. Who knew what might be concealed within my body:

It might be standard weapons like Flame projectors, laser emitters, and magnetic accelerators, or it might be more unconventional weapons like sonic screamers, acid nozzles, and dart shooters.

Whatever they put inside me, it made no difference. They might have stuck god-knows-what in my body, but my mind was still very much the same.

The Mag-train came to a stop in front of a cavernous loading bay.

"Now stopping, Special Training. Please step off the train, Doggie."

Ok seriously, how was he doing that?

I stepped out into the loading bay. The gigantic compartment was almost completely empty; instead of the usual swarm of loader bots and cargo pods were New Instructor, a techie, and a man-sized container.

Upon seeing New Instructor, my paw instantly went to my forehead

"At ease, doggie"

My paw returned to my side

"I know what you're thinking: ‘what on earth did the Conglomerate do to me?'"

This man was psychic.

"I've never been much for explanation, so I'll just show you instead"

"Indigo Cyan Violet Umber"

Two dinner plate-sized disks popped out of my wrists, each with the look and feel of stiff clay.

"What is this?' I asked

The techie spoke up

"Those are Programmable Matter panels. They're powered by two experimental quantum tap generators installed in your arms. They utilize quantum wells to arrange electrons into...'

"Skip the tektalk and tell him what they do."

The techie shot New Instructor a mean look

"Basically, those panels can turn into anything you wish: Gold, Silver, Titanium, steal, Lead, whatever. The only limit is your imagination!"

It sounded like pretty neat stuff, but...

"How useful would it be in combat?" I asked the techie.

"I'm getting to that."

The techie continued "Because Programmable Matter uses quantum well-formed "pseudo atoms" instead of real atoms, it's not limited by the constraints of ordinary matter. It can shift into materials that couldn't possibly exist in nature" " For example, say ‘Impervium'"

"Impervium"

Before I could blink, the clay-like panels turned mirror-like. I ran a claw over one of the panels. It's formerly rough, clayey surface had become smooth as glass.

"Behold Impervium!" Said the techie with more than a touch of pride in his voice. "Twenty times stronger than diamond, with only a quarter the weight of aluminum!"

"Best of all, the panels can also become any shape or size you want. Most of the material is concealed within your arms, so you can make shapes up to about ten meters in length before it starts to lose structural integrity. Go ahead, think of something"

"Ok" I said. I concentrated on the form I felt would be most useful in close combat. The panels quivered for a second, then instantly reformed themselves into two curved blades.

"Impressive" Commented New Instructor in his typical, emotionless manner. "But will they actually function as blades?"

The Techie looked more than a little indignant. "Sir, those blades could slice through the hull of this station like soft butter. I think that they'd function quite well."

"Let's see if you're right"

New Instructor reached into the case beside him and pulled out a section of 4-inch armor plate.

"Slice that plate in half. Let's see if this techie isn't just boasting about this substance"

I examined the plate. It was standard Conglomerate armor plate; six inches of solid titanium alloy capable of resisting everything up to a heavy railgun slug.

A raised one of the mirror-like blades and...

SCHWING!

The blade passed through the armor plate as if it wasn't even there. For a moment, the plate appeared undamaged; the only visible change was a fine groove neatly bisecting the plate's surface. Just as I was raising my arm for another slice, the plate split neatly in two, both halves clanging loudly to the floor.

My fur turned purple with astonishment. Even the techie looked a little surprised.

"As...As you can see, Impervium has excellent combat potential."

New Instructor looked unimpressed.

"I see, but how would it hold up against enemy fire?"

"I'll show you" said the techie, pulling a mag-rifle out of the case.

I quickly willed the Pem (the name rolled off the tongue a lot easier than "Programmable Matter") panels into two rhomboid shields about the size of my body.

The techie pressed the firing stud

KACHINK KACHINK!

BB-sized rounds slammed into the shields at hypersonic speeds, knocking me over. I looked down, half-expecting to see two gaping holes where my chest should be.

To my astonishment, I was completely unharmed.

"Impressive" I commented, "But how does it rate against energy weapons?"

The techie lifted a bulky las-rifle out of the case.

"Say ‘Krellium'"

I obeyed. The mirror-bright panels turned black. Not your run-of-the-mill midnight black, or even "dark room" black. No, this was pure, unadulterated black.

"Behold Krellium" Said the techie with even more pride in his voice. " a material capable of absorbing heat and light energy without even growing warm."

He lifted a bulky las-gun from the case

"Ready?" He asked, pointing the gun's lens right at me

I crouched behind the shields. "Ready!"

The techie pressed the firing stud. There was no "Zap", no beam of red light from the lens, only a faint "buzz" as the las-gun focused a beam of coherent light on me. I expected the shields to start glowing, then melt under the torrent of energy, but, just like the techie said, they didn't even grow warm. The las-gun started to overheat as it poured light onto me, but I didn't feel a thing. Finally, the techie released the firing stud before the weapon started to melt.

"Well?" He asked

I was astounded. This material could revolutionize warfare as we knew it! Armor made from this stuff could protect a soldier from anything up to a heavy railgun slug. Hell, a tank covered in this stuff could probably shrug off everything up to a small fusion bomb!

"It definitely has potential." I replied, trying to keep my tail from wagging.

"Good" said the techie. His voice took on a more somber tone. "However, Programmable Matter is still a relatively new development. It can only stay in altered form for about ten minutes at a time before it returns to its default state. After that, it requires another ten minutes to recharge.

Ten minutes, I'd have to remember that

"Now, why don't I show you what else the Conglomerate put in you?"

________________________________________________________________________

It turned out that the Conglomerate had put much more in me than Pem. During the operation, my bones had somehow been impregnated with diamond, making them all but unbreakable. My knuckles had been reinforced with titanium plates, allowing me to punch through thin armor plate. Organic resin springs had been grafted into my legs, allowing me to jump up to five times my height. Finally, every nerve in my body had been connected to a sort of limbic control system. If I was in unbearable pain, I could pump endorphins into my system on command, taking the edge off the pain.

"So, Doggie, what do you think of your promotion?"

What did I think? I thought the Conglomerate was going more than a little overboard with their projects! I'd hacked into some classified documents lately, and some of the projects they were working on were mind bogglingly impractical: a warship 500 meters long, an armored combat suit the size of a small house that required a small fusion reactor, and of course, me. All together, these and other projects added up to almost two trillion credits. All for conflicts that would, in all likelihood, never come.

Still, I put on my happy face. I was going for a look of barely concealed excitement, while still trying to maintain an air of professional interest."

"I think it's going to make me unstoppable in combat" I replied, wagging my tail for effect.

"That's good, because you're going to get a chance to use your new abilities very soon"

Guess I was wrong.

New Instructor explained: It appeared that several mining colonies in the Asteroid Belt had united. Calling themselves the "United Colonies of the Asteroid Belt" (UCAB for short), they'd rebelled against the Conglomerate's "fair and reasonable laws", and declared themselves independent of the Conglomerate.

I already knew much of what he'd just told me. I'd learned about the UCAB from a sympathizer I'd met on a Net art forum. He'd given me a far less "biased" introduction to the "Cabbies". From what he'd told me, the miners had had good reason to rebel: the Conglomerate (or "Connies" as he called them) had been taxing them to death. Taxes on food, taxes on water, even a tax on air! By the time the miners were through paying all those taxes, they'd barely have any credits left over for necessities such as medicine, and entertainment (out in the Belt, entertainment of any kind was almost as important as air). Rebellion was really the only option they'd had

New Instructor continued. Three weeks ago, the Conglomerate had dispatched three warships to the UCAB headquarters on Ceres to "convince" the miners to reconsider their decision. When the warships finally reached Ceres after their three-week trek, they'd found that the UCAB had turned the Asteroid Belt into a virtual fortress. Modified cutting lasers and retrofitted mass-drivers had been installed on a series of 48 asteroids surrounding Ceres. Two of the warships had been completely destroyed. The other managed to limp its way back to Earth in flames.

"...so, the Conglomerate is going to launch a massive retaliatory raid against the UCAB, but there's something they want you to do first."

New Instructor unrolled a thinscreen; something resembling a burnt potato appeared on it.

"Do you know what this is?"

Of course I did!

"That is a carbonaceous chondrite asteroid, made of carbon compounds."

"Exactly; the asteroid is nothing more than a chunk of cosmic charcoal. Useless for mining, but the UCAB has found another use for it"

"Before it retreated, the surviving ship managed to snap this"

New Instructor tapped an icon. A digital pic of the asteroid popped up.

"Sir, I don't see anything significant about this"

"Look closer"

New Instructor tapped the pic. An outline of a cylindrical object superimposed itself on the asteroid.

A telescope!

"Apparently, the UCAB has mounted an array of high power telescopes onto this asteroid. Because of its dark color and apparent uselessness, it makes for an excellent lookout post, capable of detecting a vessel up to 10 light minutes away."

Ten light minutes! In combat, detecting a craft from that distance would give a defender plenty of time to ready his defenses!

"Now, the Conglomerate could just hurl every ship it has against the Ceres base and swamp their defenses through sheer numbers, but that would result in massive casualties on both sides. The Conglomerate doesn't want to shed any more blood then it has to."

"Doesn't want to shed any more blood then it has to" my furry arse! I thought. The Conglomerate taxed these people for air and water! More likely they just wanted to insure that the mining facilities were taken intact.

"The first part of your mission will require you to stow away aboard a local freighter. It's captain is a confirmed UCAB sympathizer who is somehow managing to smuggle weapons and supplies to the Belt. We don't know how he's managing it, but he's your ticket in!"

I tried my best to keep a straight face. At last, after 8 years of waiting, my escape opportunity had finally come! Already I had the bare bones of an escape plan worked out in my head. I would stow away aboard the freighter, but once it had departed, I would reveal myself to the captain and crew. This part was probably the easiest; I'd met the captain online in one of the Station's online chatrooms. (In fact, he was the one who'd told me about the UCAB). From his online conversations, he seemed like a pretty nice guy; I'm sure he wouldn't mind another passenger.

Once we reached the Asteroid Belt, I'd defect to the UCAB. I had several reasons to join their little rebellion.

One was for revenge: I'd suffered a lot at the hands of the Conglomerate. They were due for a little punishment

Another was liberty: all the UCAB wanted, along with independence, was fair treatment. They didn't want to make their own little isolationist kingdom out there in the Belt; they'd be more than happy to supply the Conglomerate with metal as long as it didn't charge them an arm and a leg for what they needed. The Conglomerate was just being greedy, and I wouldn't tolerate it!

My last reason was logic: the escape of such a valuable weapon would certainly get the Conglomerate's attention, and since virtually every planet in the inner Solar System was owned by the Conglomerate, no place would be safe. The Asteroid Belt was the only refuge available.

"...once the asteroid has been destroyed, the fleet will move in and catch the rebels by surprise. Your spacecraft will be picked up once the battle has concluded"

"Any questions, doggie?"

"No sir!" I said with a big smile.

"Good." "Return to your quarters and access your Net profile. The techies have some things they need to go over with you."

"DISMISSED!"

Authors note:

The "Programmable Matter" introduced here is actually a scientifically feasible concept, though making the stuff is currently far beyond our current technological capabilities.

The concept of "Impervium" is the brainchild of the very talented SF author Will McCarthy.

Everything else is all me.