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That night, I had a dream.

I was walking through an abandoned sector of the Station.: The walls were grimy and dented; the rubberized floor panels were frayed to stretchy ribbons; the circulator vents gave off an audible rattle as they sucked in my waste gasses. A dying glowstrip cast a dim orange glow over the corridor, accentuating the sense of neglect that permeated the place.

I stopped in front of a dingy hatch; its identity stripes, faded and smudged as they were, marked it as the entrance to a lab of some sort. For some reason, I felt that there was something behind that hatch that I had to see!

I extended a Pem panel from my right arm and willed it into Impervium. A few mental suggestions shaped the disk-shaped panel into a thin, almost two-dimensional blade. I jabbed it into the hatch.

Schlict!

The atom-thick blade passed through the steel hatch as if it wasn't there. Within a few seconds, I'd literally cut the hatch out of its frame.

I gave the severed hatch a solid roundhouse kick.

BOOOM.

My ears stung from the racket; how could a falling hatch make so much noise? Most hatches were only about a few inches thick at the most, hardly enough to generate such a racket!

I took a closer look at the fallen hatch; its triangular panels, designed to operate like the shutter of an old-fashioned camera, were unusually thick; at least five inches thicker than a standard hatch; that didn't any sense...unless the Conglomerate REALLY didn't want people to see what was behind it.,

I peered into the lab. Usually these areas were pretty well lit; the better for the scientists to see what they were doing; this one was pitch black. I wasn't surprised: The Conglomerate always disconnected sections from the main power grid once they were abandoned; no sense wasting energy on something one used anymore.

But wait; there was that single remaining glowstrip in the corridor. If the power had been cut out, the entire place would've been dark, and what about the air circulators? If the power was cut off, why were they still running? This place was obviously receiving power.

But if that was the case, why was this lab so dark?

Only one way to find out.

I took a tentative step into the darkened lab. With the dim light coming in from the corridor, I made out six cylindrical objects, each mounted on some kind of pedestal.

I walked up to one of the eight-foot tall cylinders. I'd seen these before, from the inside; They were growth tubes: specialized chambers used for growing biological material at an accelerated rate.

I peered into one of the tanks; a churning, roiling cloud of ill-defined particles obscured my view: cleaner nanos breaking down the specimen's waste products

An icon on the tank's thinscreen flashed blue. A line of text appeared:

"CLEANING CYCLE COMPLETE. FLUSHING NANOS. "

The fluid in the tube began to swirl. Thin pipes sucked up the clouds of nanos, filtered them out, and expelled clean solution. As the nanos were removed, I could make out a shape in the tube . It was an animal of some sort, with two legs, two arms, fox-like tail, and a canine muzzle

IT WAS ME...

I looked again; No it wasn't me; too chubby, too puppy-like. It was a clone, an almost

fully developed clone!

I looked around: the entire lab was taken up by two rows of twenty-two growth tubes; each containing a developing clone. The first row's tanks were filled with embryos; little blobs of flesh wriggling helplessly in their plastic wombs. The second row's tanks were even more disturbing; each one contained an almost fully developed clones, resembling nothing so much as humanoid wolf pups.

I fell to the floor, my body quivering like jelly.

THIS ISN'T REALTHISISN'TREALTHISISN'TREAL!

My fur turned elmer's glue white. I was terrified beyond rational thought; there's something about seeing a copy of you in a tank that makes bravery impossible. I stood up on wobbly knees; my legs begged me to run. I couldn't have agreed with them more.

I ran like no human could ever hope to. My legs pumping like hydraulic pistons.

It was no use; the rubberized floor had become like greasy ice, providing almost no traction. I

t was as if the entire floor had become a giant treadmill.

Everything started to grow; growth tubes that were only

three feet taller than me became towering skyscrapers;

a ball of dust at my feet became a fuzzy boulder.

By now my animal instincts had completely taken over.

I was running on all fours, howling and growling like satan himself was after me. I

t was no use.

THUMP!

I stopped.

KRSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHH!!!

One of the tanks cracked open.

BOOM!

Something big started walking my way

BOOM!

My body went into overdrive;

every drop of adrenalin I had left was dumped into my bloodstream.

BOOOM!

A giant footpaw pinned my tail to the ground. I looked up: there, towering above me like a twenty story building, was a giant-sized me!

It was a hideous thing: its fur was slimy with tube-fluid, with tubes the size of fire hoses trailing from its body. One of its arms seemed underdeveloped; instead of fur, the immature appendage was covered in translucent skin with stubby, webbed fingers. like monsters. Hell itself could not have conceived a more horrifying creature!

The monstrosity looked down at me. Its face was almost innocent in its appearance, like that of a child or puppy. There was nothing innocent about its eyes. In fact, it had no eyes; just two empty sockets!

The creature grabbed me by the scruff of the neck. I wriggled and squirmed like a bug being picked up by a child, but the giant hand-paw wouldn't let go. The thing dropped me onto its webbed hand-paw. As I laid helpless on the squishy paw, the creature brought me up to eye level, smiling in a cute/disturbing way. It opened its mouth; a slimy, purplish tongue wrapped around me...

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

GASP!

I woke up in a cold sweat, claws unsheathed and teeth bared.

"It was just a bad dream, It was just a bad dream" I repeated to myself, trying to convince myself that I'd just had a nightmare.

I didn't believe a word of it.

What I'd seen was no dream. Somewhere in the Station, the Conglomerate was growing more creatures like me. Was I crazy? Was it irrational for a fox/wolf/human/octopus hybrid to believe that his dream might not have been a dream? Maybe, but it made sense; Teacher had said I was the first in a line of genetically engineered supersoldiers, but I'd thought the Conglomerate would wait until I'd proven myself in combat-you wouldn't want to grow supersoldiers if you weren't sure if they'd work- and even then it'd would them months, maybe years to grow and train them.

If what I had seen in that dream was accurate, the Conglomerate had perfected the growing process; it had taken six months for the Conglomerate to grow me from a mass of tissue. Those duplicates could become fully developed in a matter of weeks.

I guess I underestimated the Conglomerate.

My fur turned white. This was bad; if the powers above decided to let the project continue, those duplicates would soon become near-perfect copies of me: strong, agile, and smart. The only difference: their loyalty wouldn't be an act. Without Teacher to disrupt the Conglomerate's conditioning, they'd obey without question. The UCAB was already outnumbered 3-1; a division of supersoldiers would reduce their already low odds to almost nil. I couldn't allow that to happen. I had to stop the program before the duplicates reached maturity, but how? The problem wasn't with getting into the lab-the dream had shown that its hatch would be no match for my pem blades- the problem was with security. If I knew the Conglomerate, they'd wired that lab with more alarms than any other place on the Station. Breaking in would send every security officer in the Station after me. While I could easily fight them off, my "unquestioning loyalty" act would be blown, and I could kiss any chances of escape goodbye. I had to create a distraction; something small enough to not damage the Station seriously, but large enough to attract attention, but what could I do?

An explosion?

That could work. In a sealed habitat such as Station, an explosion would certainly

attract attention. Unfortunately the only explosives on the Station were in the armory.

Breaking into there would blow my cover just as easily as breaking into the lab. I'd

have to improvise something, but how?

Click!

Something in the room clicked. I instantly snapped into my combat stance, claws unsheathed and teeth bared...to see a spider-like cleanerbot enter the room. I chided myself for being so high strung. The Conglomerate could do a lot of things, but they couldn't read minds (at least, not yet).

The dinner plate sized bot ambled over to a small stain on the floor;

a nozzle appeared in its belly, and a thin spray of Kleen-All cleaning solution

squirted onto the stain.

THAT'S IT!

I scooped up the little bot.

The terrified automaton wriggled like an insect;its proximity alarm screaming BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP!

Oh shut up!

I yanked out the spider-like machine's battery pack, stopping it in mid-beep. I carried the inert machine over to my work table and, using a claw as a makeshift screwdriver, opened it up.

The cleaner bot's interior was a jumbled mess of wires, cables, motors, and microprocessors. Nestled between two drive motors, and a fluid pump was a half-empty-or was it half-full?- tank of Kleen-All. A colorless liquid that turned to a gel in air, Kleen-All was capable of breaking up any kind of stain, from simple food stains to stubborn industrial lubricants. In the wrong hands, it could be a pretty potent explosive...

A plan formed in my head: using whatever I could find lying around my quarters, I would convert this innocent cleaning bot into an improvised bomb, which I would plant somewhere in the Station. Once it was a safe distance away, I'd detonate the bomb. The explosion should create enough chaos for me to break into the cloning lab unnoticed. I'd destroy the clones, then escape on the sympathetic freighter captain's ship.

First: the bomb.

"Now, what to use as a detonator?"

I searched through the hapless bot's innards, looking for anything that I could use as an improvised detonator. I noticed that the Kleen-All tank had a small pump attatched to its side; a thick power cord ran from it to the bot's Using a single claw, I snipped the cable in two, then carefully shaved a little insulation off both strands. Using a little pilfered electrical tape, I bound the two strands of cable at the middle, keeping the exposed ends a few millimeters apart.

A little crude, but it'll do.

Now I needed a small explosive charge to set off the Kleen-All, and I knew exactly where to find one.

I got up from my work table and pulled out my battered rifle case. Opening it, I found my best friend lying peacefully in his foam padding, along with his ammo clips and accessories. I picked up one of his clips and, after 15 minutes of laborious fishing and wiggling, managed to work one of the rounds loose.

Sitting back down at my work table, I gripped the chrome-plated cartridge tightly in one hand, while pinching the titanium-plated bullet in the other. A few hard twists and turns, and the bullet popped out like the cork on a champagne bottle. Throwing the now-useless bullet aside, I took the exposed ends of my makeshift detonator and gently inserted them into the cartridge, sealing the two together with electrical tape. A little more tape to stick the whole thing to the Kleen-All tank, and I'd made myself a cleanerbot bomb. I was actually kinda proud of the little thing; it wasn't easy turning a common cleaning robot into an improvised explosive. It was a shame that I'd have to blow it up.

I slipped the cleanerbot bomb under my equipment belt. Now I'd have to decide what to take with me. My rifle (of course), as much ammo as possible, and...Oh, I almost forgot!

I logged on to my private terminal and tapped the "send E-mail" icon. I tapped out a quick message to my "getaway driver":

The Conglomerate is up to something big. I plan to sabotage it, but I'll need a getaway vehicle. When you hear the alarms, gather your crew and prepare for departure. If I don't show up in about 20 minutes, leave immediately.

-A friend.

I tapped the "send" icon. The captain was somewhat of a light sleeper; the terminal's "new message" beep should be enough to wake him up.

Exiting my E-mail, I accessed my private documents: I'd downloaded dozens of classified documents into my terminals hard drive; Weapons development, logistics, defenses, tactics, etc. I had no use for it, but the Cabs sure would.

I slipped a few stolen data chips into the terminal's memory slot. I traced a circle around the classified documents and tapped the screen. A list of options appeared:

Erase

Download

Copy

Move

I tapped Download. Thousands of megabytes of data etched itself into the chips. Within a few seconds, 48 highly classified documents were packed into three thumb-sized chips.

I slipped the chips into an equipment pouch.

I packed an empty weapons case with a few books, my drawing easel, and my writing tablet (it'd take at least two weeks for the freighter to reach the Belt, so I'd need something to pass the time) I stashed my luggage underneath my cot; I'd retrieve it as soon as I was done. I tapped "open" on my quarters' hatch; as it dilated open, my eye fell on the bottle of synthetic cleaning oil, resting comfortably in the foam padding of the rifle case. On a whim, I took the little bottle from its niche and stuffed it into my equipment belt. Who knows? It might come in handy...

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

I silently padded down the gently curved hallways. Not that stealth was necessary; this late into NightShift, the hallways were virtually deserted. The only signs of activity were the ubiquitous cleaner bots, and the occasional sleepy-eyed techie too tired to ask what I was doing up. Still, it didn't hurt to be a little too cautious now did it?

As I crept towards the nearest magtrain, my plan hit a little snag: Where would I plant the bomb?

It had to be in a place that where it could inflict enough damage to attract a lot of attention, but not enough to severely damage the Station.

The hallway?

No, that wouldn't do enough damage to trigger the distraction I wanted.

The main reactor?

Was I joking? That was the most sensitive part of the Station. Even if I managed to get past the air-tight security and plant the bomb, the blast might damage the reactor's containment coils and trigger a meltdown.

Water purifier?

That place was sealed tight; I'd need special clearance to get in there, and by the time I managed to steal the proper ID chit, the freighter would be long gone.

How about a Cleanerbot maintenance closet?

Hmmm....

An explosion in there would set off all the other cleanerbots in the room, creating a very noticeable-and attention getting-blast, and, because cleanerbot maintenance wasn't exactly a high priority department, nothing vital would be damaged. Best part of all; there was one only 50 meters away. If I hurried, I could get there in only a few minutes.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

I underestimated just how low priority cleanerbot maintenance was; I just tapped "open" on the closet's control panel and it dilated open. Knowing the Conglomerate, I would've at least expected an access code or at least an alarm.

The tiny closet was barely large enough for me to squeeze my lean frame into. Most of it was taken up rows of deactivated cleanerbots being recharged and refilled for their next patrols. It was kind of unnerving having all those bug-like photoreceptors staring at me; it was like being watched by an army of giant spiders.

I could barely breathe in the cramped closet; the air was so full of Kleen- All fumes that it was like walking into an old-fashioned gas chamber, only without the last meal or the priest.

Now is definitely not a good place to have a super-strong sense of smell.

Holding my breath, I took out the little bottle of cleaning oil. In order detonate the Klean-All tank, the bot would have to activate its fluid pump. It would only do that if it was in spraying range of a stain. Since stains were never where you wanted them to be, I'd have to make my one of my own.

I gently squeezed a few drops of synthetic oil onto the rubberized floor, then smeared it with a claw to spread it out a little. I took a look at my handiwork; right there, smack dab in the middle of the closet was a stain to be proud of: black, ugly, and greasy. The kind of stain that toddlers wished they could make. It'd certainly get the bot's attention.

I slowly backed out of the closet, making sure to tap the "stay open" icon on its control panel on my way. I took the plate-sized cleanerbot from out from under my belt and snapped its battery pack back in.

BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP!

I hated that proximity alarm.

I gently placed the squirming bot on the floor, gave it a gentle pat on the head...then ran like hell!

Wheee-whirrrr-wheee-whirrr...

As I ran, I could hear the faint whine of the bot's servoes.

"Good, it's working."

The whining stopped; the bot must have stopped in front of the stain. I heard a faint click...

BOOOOOOM!

The next thing I knew, I was lying against a wall, my ears ringing. My only obvious injuries were a bloody nose, and a pounding headache. As I consciously pumped endorphins into my bloodstream I was actually thankful that the Conglomerate had screwed around with my body. If it hadn't been for the diamond in my bones, I probably wouldn't be able to move.

As the ringing in my ears died down, I became aware of a computerized voice on the Station's intercom.

"EMERGENCY, EMERGENCY!" "EXPLOSION IN CLEANERBOT MAINTAINANCE ROOM 5! DAMAGE CONTROL TEAMS REPORT TO LEVEL 9 SECTOR 4 IMMEDIETELY!"

The hallway glowstrips turned red; an alarm claxon went off like a possessed foghorn.

I gave myself a mental scratch behind the ears. Part 1 was successful: the blast had probably set off alarms across half the Station; Security would be too busy handling those to notice a little break-in an abandoned sector.

I checked the chrono:

NS 0101

I had ‘til NS 0121 before my getaway vehicle departed. I hurried towards the nearest magtrain station. After a few minutes, a train docked at the station, disgorging pressure-suited damage control personnel and blue-armored security troops. A few of the security troops stared at me for a few seconds- not surprising; The Conglomerate tried to limit my contact with anyone who wasn't in on the project-then shook their heads and hurried after the damage control team.

I dashed into the empty magtrain car; the doors sealed themselves behind me.

"LEVEL AND SECTOR?" The magtrain's computer asked.

My plan just hit another snag: Where was the lab?!

I sifted through my memories of the dream, looking for any clue to the lab's location. I visualized myself walking through the decrepit hallways, scanning the grimy walls for clues. I remembered seeing a vague outline obscured by god-knows how many years of grime. I concentrated harder; what was the outline?

Harder...

Harder...

I made out two numbers through the grime:

19-5

Could that be Level 19 Sector 5? It was worth a shot.

"LEVEL AND SECTOR?" The computer repeated.

I took a deep breath:

"Nineteen...Five.

"LEVEL 19 SECTOR 5 CONFIRMED. TRAVEL TIME TWO MINUTES FORTY-ONE SECONDS."

I hoped that those were the right coordinates...

I was taking a short micro-nap when the computerized train stopped.

"DESTINATION REACHED: LEVEL 19 SECTOR 5" the computer announced.

The doors hissed open; I got up from my seat and stepped out.

HSSSSS!

The magtrain doors sealed behind me, and the train glided along to its next stop.

Guess there was no turning back now. I thought grimly

The Level was exactly as I'd seen it in the dream: frayed floor panels, grimy walls, and clunking circulators; even the single glowstrip was identical to its dream counterpart. I wondered just how long this place had been abandoned. From the outdated hatch control s, I would guess around 70 to 80 years; probably abandoned when the Conglomerate first expanded the Station.

A little voice popped into my head

"Are you crazy?!"

I stopped for a second

"What do you mean?"

"There IS no hidden lab! Look around you; this place has been abandoned for years. Who'd put a lab here?"

"The Conglomerate would" I answered "You know how paranoid they are; they wouldn't keep this kind of project out in the open. They'd hide it in the last place no one would expect"

"The only reason you came here is because of that dream; a dream that was probably just a manifestation of your insecurities. That lab you saw could be your mind, and the clones could be your hidden insecurities"

"Since when did you become a psychiatrist?" I shot back "I know my insecurities, and they do NOT involve hidden labs or clones!"

"Maybe, but that doesn't change the fact that you're acting on a dream."

"I'll act on what I want to act, now shut up!"

I gave myself a good whack on the side of the head; now was NOT the time to argue with my own conscious! I only had 19 minutes left before the freighter departed. I had to find that blue-striped hatch, fast.

I scanned the rows of hatches;

red,

yellow,

green,

green,

green,

BLUE!

I unsheathed a Pem panel

"Impervium, blade"

The panel quivered, then shaped itself into an atom-thin Impervium blade. Just like the one I'd used in my dream. I thrust the blade into the hatch,

"SECURITY BREACH IN LEVEL 19-5! SECURITY BREACH IN LEVEL 19-5!"

Ignoring the alarm, I cut the hatch from its frame and gave it a swift kick, just like I had in the dream.

CLANG!

I stepped over the fallen hatch into the lab.

There they were: twenty-four developing clones. Thanks to my dream, the lab wasn't the chamber of horrors it'd been in the dream. However, it was unnerving to see two dozen copies of yourself being grown like algae in a food tank.

I walked up to one of the growth tubes; an almost fully formed clone floated peacefully in its depths.

I tapped a "status"icon on the tube's thinscreen:

SUBJECT:

DESIGNATION: 124C41: "RALPH"

HEARTRATE: 3 BPS

NUERO ACTIVITY: OPTIMAL

TOTAL GROWTH TIME: 3 WEEKS TWO DAYS

NOTES: SUBJECT IS ALMOST FULLY DEVELOPED. RECOMMEND REMOVING FROM TANK IN APPROX. TWO DAYS 15 HOURS

Three weeks old

Every three weeks, another cub would be ready for training. Combine that with accelerated training techniques and improved augmentation techniques, and the Conglomerate would have a new supersoldier every six months!

If I wanted to derail this project, I'd have to destroy a lot more than just these duplicates. I'd have to destroy everything: every bit of data; every cell sample; every computer model; anything that could be used to grow a duplicate.

"First, the genetic source material:"

I walked over to the lab's sample trays. Inside were countless fur, serum, and blood samples; enough genetic material to grow an army of duplicates. I tore the trays out of their storage racks, spilling pill-sized specimen capsules all over the floor like a clumsy pharmacist.

I scooped up handfuls of the little capsules and tossed them into the lab's incinerator. Within seconds, each sample was turned from a potential supersoldier into a wisp of ash and plastic.

The source material was destroyed; now for the data.

I walked over to the lab's mainframe: a paint can-size cylinder covered with function lights and thinscreens. The Conglomerate wouldn't want to store the results of their work on the Station's main computer; it'd be much too vulnerable out there. Instead, all computers were connected to this small mainframe, their contents preserved here for safe-keeping.

I tapped a "display saved contents" icon.

SAVED FILES

CATEGORIES:

WEAPONS INTEGRATION (231)

GROWING TECHNIQUES (102)

ACCELERATED TRAINING (90)

...

The list went on ; the Conglomerate had learned a lot since they'd first grown me eight years ago. There was enough data stored in here to fill a 1,800 page book. Shame I'd have to erase it all.

I extended a Pem panel, willing it into a softer, stickier form of its default state. I took the gluey panel and stuck it against the mainframe

Up to now, I'd been using Pem's harder-than-diamond Impervium form, but that was only a fraction of what the substance was capable of. Last night, I'd been doing a little experimenting with my new panels, thinking up new materials I could use in the field. Turns out, a little imagination and a lot of concentration could turn the clay-like solid into literally any substance I could think of! For example:

Electrite

The putty-like Pem turned into a royal blue plastoid (plastic-like substance), shimmering like diamond. Electrite was a substance of my own design: a superb conductor of electricity capable of adhering to any substance. I'd intended to use it as a way of powering electronic devices using my internal generators. Unfortunately, the substance worked too well; it delivered so much power that any device I tried to use with it was literally cooked, draining my panel's capacitors in the process. Needless to say, I gave Electrite up as a source of power, but that didn't mean it didn't have other uses...

At a mental command, the Electrite fluoresced blue. Six million volts of electricity ravaged the little mainframe. The device's thinscreens flicked and died; function lights flashed bright red, then flicked out. Smoke started spewing from the mainframe's cooling vents.

After about 30 seconds, the panel's capacitor gave out. The Electrite reverted back into putty-like Default Pem. That was all that was needed; the mainframe was thoroughly toasted. The Conglomerate's secrets were just electronic ghosts on burnt circuitry now.

As my Pem panels recharged, I turned my attention to the last remaining part of the project:

The clones.

I walked up to one of the growth tubes; like all Conglomerate-made machines, these tubes had a hidden "terminate" function built into them; a precaution in case the tube's contents were in danger of being stolen by "competitors. In the case of the tube's it was a small vial of eater nanos hidden in the device's base. Activating the "Terminate" function would open the vial, releasing a swarm of hungry nanos into the tube's innards. As the machines feasted, they gave off a potent toxin, killing the any organic material inside quickly and painlessly.

I tapped a red, "X"- shaped icon. A flashing "WARNING" sign popped up.

WARNING!

UNDER CONGLOMERATE REGULATION 15A SUBSECTION 3-17, ONLY USE IF TUBE OR CONTENTS ARE IN DANGER OF CAPTURE.

ACTIVATING THE TERMINATE FUNCTION WILL PERMANANTLY NUETRALIZE BOTH THIS UNIT AND ANY BIOLOGICAL MATERIAL INSIDE.

DO YOU WISH TO CONTINUE?

YES

NO

I raised a claw to tap "YES"...

Thump!

Something thumped against the tube's walls.

I looked up from the thinscreen:

The clone inside the tube had woken up!

The clone looked a lot like I had at its age: chubby body, fluffy tail, and a stubby, pup-like muzzle. Unlike me, it actually looked...happy. Its paws pressed against the thick plastic of its womb; an innocent smile was on its face. But what was most striking about this creature was its eyes. They showed none of the primal emotions I'd felt during my awakening. I'd been downright terrified when I'd first attained consciousness; like a beast that had found itself in a cage. This creature's eyes shone with what I could only describe as...love.

I slapped myself upside the head; it didn't matter how cute and innocent these clones looked, I still had to destroy them. I couldn't let the Conglomerate complete their first batch of supersoldiers. If it helped, the Termination process would be quick and painless; the clones wouldn't feel a thing.

I lowered a claw to the "Terminate" icon; the slightest bit of pressure would activate it.

I can do this, I can do this. I repeated to myself.

I can do this, I can do this, I can do this...

I removed my claw from the icon

I CAN'T DO THIS!!!

I was a soldier; born and raised to do whatever it would take to maintain the safety of others, but even I had my limits. So what if these creatures were going to become weapons; what gave me the right to destroy an innocent being? It hadn't done anything wrong, not yet. Surely it deserved a chance a life!

Maybe I could take this one with me

Yeah, that might work. Once I'd dealt with the rest of the clones, I could break him out of his tank and smuggle him aboard the freighter. The Station's personnel would be far too busy dealing with the alarms to stop me, and even if they tried, I could easily take them out.

This time, it was reality that slapped me upside the head; there was no way my plan would work. Even if I did manage to smuggle this clone on the freighter, what would I do after that? Raising this clone would require resources the UCAB didn't have. Right now, the Belt was barely self-sufficient. Sure the miners could synthesize the bare necessities; water, air, and a minimum of food, but this was no ordinary infant. It'd require large amounts of highly nutritious food to stay healthy. Food the miners could hardly spare. Besides, even if I could find the resources to keep this infant fed, I couldn't take care of a baby. Child-rearing hadn't been part of my training; I was a soldier, not a mother.

The infant clone pressed its muzzle against its plastic womb, its paws reaching out towards me. It was like an infant reaching out towards its mother, longing to be held.

I pressed my muzzle against the plastic, giving it the canine equivalent of a kiss.

"Forgive me..." I said as I placed a claw against the "Terminate" icon.

The clone mouthed something through the plastic.

That little sign of affection made this task ten times more painful.

I laid a claw against the "Terminate" icon; a tear soaked into my fur.

*tap*

A small crack came from the tank as the vial of nanos ruptured. I could hear a faint sizzle as the voracious machines devoured the tanks innards.

The clone's eyes started to drop. Its movements became sluggish, as though it were tired from a day's play. As more toxins were released by the feasting nanos, the clone's vitals became increasingly erratic and weak. Then...

"BEEP,BEEP, BEEEEEEEEE..."

The bouncing line of the life support monitor went completely flat, then disappeared as the nanos ate away the life support systems.

The clone and its womb were dead.

I repeated the Termination process for each of the remaining growth tubes; the developing embryos vitals flatlined almost instantly, while the more developed clones took at least at least ten seconds.

By the last clone had finally given up the ghost, my stomach felt like a pot of boiling water. I padded into a corner...

BLAAAURGH!

...and emptied my entire digestive tract all over the rubberized floor. I knew that what I'd done was necessary, but that didn't help the fact that I'd just killed twenty-four helpless beings. I felt like the Shakespeare's Lady Macbeth; there was blood on my hands, and nothing was going to completely wash it off.

I wiped the bitter fluid from my muzzle; I could contemplate the moral implications of my actions later. I only had another ten left before the freighter captain left without me. If I hurried, I might make it in time to pick up my stuff.

Before I dashed out the sliced-open hatch, I took one last look at the clones.

"At least they'll never know pain..."

I ran down the gently curving corridor as fast as my drained body would let me. The emotional strain I'd felt had really done a number on my body. I felt like I'd been awake for at least 50 night shifts.

The fact that I was lugging about 20 pounds of belongings as well didn't help.

I accessed a yellow striped hatch and ran down a loading corridor. Normally, this corridor was reserved for freighter crew and loader bots; strictly off-limits for genetically engineered freaks like myself. Thankfully, most of the Station was too preoccupied with the alarms to care about a minor infraction.

So far, aside from my exhaustion and perhaps permanent mental scarring, my escape plan had gone off smoothly. At my current speed, I would reach the Station's docking ring in about five minutes.

As I ran, I worried about the freighter captain; how would he and his crew would react towards me? The captain had said he'd always had a thing for humanoid animals; his profile on the Station's Net was filled with Anthro art and stories. Still, there was no telling how he'd react to the real thing.

I guessed that I'd just have to hope for the best.

I noticed a symbol emblazoned on the wall: a curved line with a ship attached to it.

Below it was an inscription:

"50 FEET straight"

That had to be the docking bay. I was almost there; just had to keep running.

My legs wobbled. I could barely manage to keep moving. Maybe I could just sit down for a little bit, just to catch my breath.

NO!

I had to keep running! I don't know why, but I felt that if I stopped for even a minute, I'd be left behind.

"C'mon foxy boy. Just a little further, just a little fur...

WHAM!

I found myself laying face-first on the floor.

"Watch where you're going, Dammit!"

"Sorry about that. In kind of a hurry!"

It took me a few seconds to realize that I'd just hurridly apologized to the last person I needed to see.

I picked myself off the loading corridor's hard floor. I looked up: there, looking more than a little pissed, was the stone-cold face of New Instructor.

For a few seconds, we just stared at eachother, too stunned to talk. Finally, New Instructor broke the silence.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING HERE!?" "YOU KNOW THAT THESE CORRIDORS ARE OFF LIMITS!"

I'd would have asked him what he was doing here, but that wouldn't be wise.

I racked my brain for an excuse

"I'm um, I was on my way to investigate the alarm when I saw someone dash down this corridor."

New Instructor raised an eyebrow "Really...?"

"Yes" I said, feeling a little more confident." No shipments were expected for another two units, and he wasn't wearing a crewman's uniform."

It didn't look like New Instructor was buying it. "Tell me, doggie, if that's the case, why are you carrying so much equipment?"

" Sir, from the size and unexpectedness of the blast, this man is obviously both very clever and very dangerous. I'll need every weapon I can get to apprehend him."

I pointed to the ammo case"These are additional weapons from the armory, sir."

"25 microgrenades, a pound of C-45 plastic explosive, and a canister of AlphaQ sleeping gas."

New Instructor's expression softened ever so slightly.

"How come we never spotted him?

"I suspect it was an inside job, sir."

"Really? How so?"

" The individual planted a bomb in the last place noone would expect. Someplace he knew would have low security. "

New Instructor stared at me, his eyes boring into my soul.

Did he buy it?...

"Alright, I believe you, doggy."

He bought it.

"I'll radio security; you track that guy down." "Understand?"

"Yes sir!"

I took a few deep sniffs, trying my best to look like I was searching for a scent."

Now what? I pondered.

I couldn't leave with New Instructor hanging around; that would blow my fragile alibi. I needed a way to get rid of him, fast.

I spotted a maintainance closet along the side of the corridor. A plan hatched in my head.

"Sir!" I shouted "I think I've found something!"

New Instructor rushed over to me

"What is it?"

I took a few sniffs "Before I lost sight of the intruder, I managed to get a whiff of his scent. I've been tracking him here".

"How could you track him in...Oh I don't care how you manage to do it, where did he go?"

"The scent trail leads to that maintenance closet sir, I think he might have locked himself in".

"Well what are you waiting for, Doggy?" "Get over there and open that hatch with one of your blades. I'll cover you."

I pressed myself against the wall, sidling over to the hatch. New Instructor stood behind me, ready to provide me with covering fire.

"Ready? Three, Two...OOMPH!"

I delivered a solid punch to New Instructors stomach. New Instructor was at the peak of physical fitness, but even he couldn't stand up to such a blow.

Before New Instructor could recover I snatched the hated shockstick from his belt. I changed its settings a little, then...

ZZZZZZAPP!

...I sent 10,000 volts through the man who had been my master for the past eight years.

New Instructor crumpled to the floor in pain, his uniform smoking where the shockstick had zapped him. His body began to spasm uncontrollably; nuerons firing with reckless abandon.

I grabbed his quivering body and dragged it into the maintainance closet. I selected the "Shut" icon on the hatch's control panel, then smashed it with my reinforced fist. Through the hole, I could make out the outline of New Instructor, tangled up in a spool of fiber-optic cable.

Before I could leave, he managed to control himself long enough for one last command.

"O-OPPPENN THE-THE-THE HATCH-CH-CH, D-D-D-OGGIE!"

Incredible; even when he was at the mercy of his own body he used that old insult.

This guy was dedicated

I took a few seconds to think of a witty comeback; who knows when I'd get another chance like this.

I got it!

A few days ago, I'd hacked into the Station's personnel files out of boredom. It turns out New Instructors real name could, under the right circumstances, make for a witty cultural reference.

"O-P-P-P-EN THE HAT-CH-CH-CH!" New Instructor repeated angrily

I just smiled.

"I'm sorry Dave, I can't do that."

That little "2001" reference must have pushed him over the brink. As soon as he heard it, New Instructor's eyes rolled up into his skull. He made a few unintelligible gurgles, then passed out cold.

"Love to stay and chat, but I've got a freighter to catch."

20 minutes later...

"Really nice of you to let me on board Captain Heywood"

"The pleasure was all mine, and please, call me Floyd. We aren't nearly as formal here"

"I know, it's just, when you've been calling someone ‘Sir' for most of your life, you can't

help but use their formal title"

"I guess I can understand. My old man used to make me clean up the house every day ‘till I was sixteen." "Thanks to him, I always get the feeling that I should be cleaning something."

"I can certainly see that" I remarked. The captain's quarters, tiny as they were, were sparkling clean. Coveralls neatly velcroed on the wall, bed nicely made, and personal effects arranged neatly in their cubbyholes. Not at all what I'd expected from a freighter crew.

"So...how long ‘till we reach the Belt" I asked, taking a sip of fruit juice from my drink bulb.

"We should arrive at an outpost in about two to three weeks. Hope you brought some reading material with you."

"Trust me, I did."

"Good to hear; that's a common rookie mistake. I can't tell you how many crew members have arrived on ship without something to do. The boredom nearly drove them nuts."

A thinscreen on the wall beeped twice.

"Looks like I'm needed on the bridge. I'll have a crewmember escort you to your quarters"

"That's ok, I can find it myself. See you later Floyd!"

I grabbed my belongings and padded out of the captain's quarters. The freighter was a cramped vessel; most of its available space was for used for cargo. As a result, crew accommodations left something to be desired. Not that it mattered. Having grown up in a utilitarian Station, I had no understanding of "luxury".

I found my quarters in a most convenient spot; next to one of the freighter's main viewports. I folded down the small cot and laid my furry head on it.

It would take me at least three weeks to reach the nearest UCAB outpost.

Plenty of time to work on my fanfiction

I got my writing tablet from the ammo case.

Nemo's adventures:

Chapter 5.....