FSE

Furry search engine

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In a lab millions of miles from Earth, an infant sleeps. His face is that of a wolf: cunning and predatory. His hands and feet are elongated paws, surprisingly dainty for such a ferocious-looking being. The infant's body is covered in soft, color-shifting fur, At the base of his spine is a large, fluffy tail. Like the rest of his body, it also shifts, changing color every second. The infant sleeps not in a womb, but in a man-size plastic tube. Hoses and sensors are attached to almost every part of his body. A computer watches over him, monitoring his heart rate. Every once in a while, it pumps the creature with little nutrient/protein solution into him. Building materials for the developing body A console attatched to the tube lights up. A green diagram appeared on its paper-thin screen. The infant has awoken.

• * * For some reason, I expected a natural womb. I don't know how I could have expected one. I'd just achieved consciousness. I couldn't possibly have expectations of something I couldn't understand. Maybe every infant knows what an ideal womb is like; we just don't remember it past a certain age. I don't know... This womb was nothing like natural one. It's walls were not of flesh, but of some strange, transparant material. Like water, but somehow solid. Instead of an umbilical cord, hair-like strands stuck to my entire body. Beyond this Non-womb was a crowd of strange creatures covered with some kind of white and pink skin. They were all looking at me closely. Almost as if they were admiring me. One of them bent over something glowing on the Non-Womb's side. He mouthed something, and the rest of the figures started jumping up and down and mouthing things to each other. What were they doing? Were they fighting? Arguing? Screaming? How could I tell? I'd only been alive for about a minute! As I watched the figures doing whatever it was that they were doing, I noticed that the Non-Womb was slowly being drained. I panicked. For all I knew, that fluid might be the only thing keeping me alive! I thrashed around in the confines of the Non-womb. Pipes and tubes broke off, leaving faint trails of blood and other liquids behind. I thrashed around harder and harder until... CRRRRRSSHHHHHHH!!! The strange womb cracked apart, spilling liquid everywhere. No longer supported, I fell face-first onto the plastic floor. Coughing up clear jelly, I tried to stand up, but the fluid soaked floor was as slippery as melting ice. As I fought to steady myself, a searing pain bloomed in my chest. My heart began to beat like a malfunctioning jackhammer. I didn't know anything about anatomy or medicine (or anything else for that matter), but I knew that something was definitely wrong with me! Instincts I didn't know I had took over. Snarling, I lunged myself at the creatures. It had to have been them! Whatever they did to me, they were going to pay in blood! One of the creatures took out a shiny can of some sort. PSSSHHH!!! A fine mist squirted out of the little can. As soon as it touched my fur, the mist turned into a sticky slime, adhering to any surface it touched. I struggled to wipe the goo from my fur, but that only spread it around. I tried wiping the horrid stuff off on the plastic floor. Big mistake. Within seconds, I was completely glued to the floor. Helpless, I howled as another lance of pain speared my chest. The creatures stood back, as though they were waiting for something, except for one. It slowly approached me, unfazed by my bestial rage Clearly alarmed, it turned me over and pressed something over my mouth. I got a quick whiff of something sweet, then everything went black... I woke up on a thin cot in a strange, off-white room, filled with enigmatic screens and apparatus. Something was talking to me. Something soft and lovely...and understandable! I knew what it meant! I turned my muzzle towards the sound...right into the most beautiful face I've ever seen. Physically, it wasn't much to look at. It was oval, plain, and simple. But it was so caring, so loving. I literally could not take my eyes off of it. I tried to talk to the face. Let it know how lovely it was. All that came out was a weak bark. The face smiled and told me to be calm. I'd just suffered something called a "heart attack", so I shouldn't stress myself. I didn't understand half of what it was saying, but I didn't care. All I cared about was the face. As I recovered, I learned a little more about the Face. Turns out it was the creature that had pressed the sweet-smelling thing over my face. As it attended to me, I wondered why it was different from the other creatures I'd seen. While the other creatures were large and bulky, this one was slim and graceful, with strange protrusions on its chest. It somehow understood my confusion. It tried its best to explain. It was a "female". The other creatures were "male". I learned that in its language, females were referred to as "she", while males were referred to as "he". Both "genders" made up a race called "humans". I didn't understand it. How could two different creatures be of the same race? It didn't make sense. The Face sensed my confusion. She told me not to worry about it now. Just try and get some rest she said. She'd tell me later. A few days later BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!! I leaped out of bed, fangs and claws bared and unsheathed. It took me about three seconds to remember that it was just the wake up tone. I was improving (the first time I'd heard that infernal buzz, I'd tried to slash open a cleanerbot that was just trying to clean the floor). Feeling a little silly, I sheathed my claws and plodded over to my small sink. My new living quarters were spartan to say the least. Aside from a bed and sink, the only furniture I was allowed was a small plastic table and a small nightstand. Not that it mattered. I hadn't learned about luxury yet, so I didn't really care. I tried my best to straighten up my color-shifting fur. The humans had had a dickens of a time trying to teach me how to clean myself properly. I hadn't seen the point in keeping my fur neat. Did it really matter if it was flat against my skin or tangled up? Sure seemed to be a big deal to them, considering how many times they'd shocked me until I got it right. After a few attempts, I finally managed to work my fur into something I hoped would be presentable. A small panel slid open behind me. Inside was a plastic tray positioned below a brick-sized slot. Meal time. Plop DING! Clonk DING! I took the tray out, and looked at its unappetizing contents. A dull-red brick and a capsule of some green liquid Breakfast. I sighed as I took a bite out of the brick. It was chewy, with a taste that sorta resembled meat. Not exactly unpleasant, but not very tasty either. The green liquid was no better. It was like a mix between a something bland, and something sweet. Not bad, but not particularly refreshing. Still, I ate hurriedly. I only had 5 minutes left to eat. Today was to be my first day of "training", and my instructors didn't approve of tardiness... ZZZZZAPPP!! My instructor whacked me with his shockstick for the third time today. He then shouted something about how much of a waste of good genetic material I was. I didn't know what "genetic material" was, but it was supposedly pretty important to him. The Athletic Instructor was almost comical in appearance. With his large bulbous nose, large red lips, and disturbingly white skin, he looked like he'd just graduated from school for clowns. His personality, on the other hand, was anything but funny. He was brutal, forcing me to preform strenuous tasks I couldn't understand. (Why should I grab a hold of that bar and lift myself over it? What would it accomplish?) Even if I obeyed, he still whacked me with his shockstick. I don't think it mattered what I did. Even if I did preform these so-called "exercises" correctly,he'd still whack me. I had to endure this "lesson" for about 5 units (roughly 3 hours). By the time it was finally over, my muscles were sore, my fur was scorched where he'd whacked me, and I'd learned my first lesson : Always obey the Instructor After that little torture session, I limped over to my "basic academics" lesson. I punched the "open" option on the door's control panel, expecting another sadistic instructor. To my surprise (and delight), I saw the Face. I rushed over to her, wrapping my arms around her legs as hard as I could. The Face smiled and patted my head. When she noticed my training-inflicted wounds, she gasped and grabbed a first aid kit from the wall. She smeared a brown goo of some sort over the wounds, all the while saying how sorry she was and how she wished she could have done something about it. I tried to tell her it wasn't her fault, but all that came out were a series of barks and growls. The Face smiled. Somehow, she knew what I was trying to say. To my surprise, she told me not to think of me as "The Face" any more. From know on, she was to become "Teacher"From then on, "basic academics" became my most favorite time of the day. Every day, after enduring another torture session at the hands of Instructor, Teacher would soothe my wounds and teach me the ways of Humans. Of course, before I could learn human concepts I'd have to learn how to speak Human. Let me tell you, it was far from easy. Oh sure, Learning human words was easy enough, but PRONOUNCING them was another story. My canine muzzle was designed for barks and growls, not the complex sounds humans make so easily. I had to learn to force my larynx to produce human-like sounds. My early attempts at talking were a sort of pidgin human mixed in with wolf-like growls and barks. Kinta (bark) vlike this (growl ). Only Teacher, in her strange, undefinable way, managed to understand me. Still, we kept at it. Teacher and I would go over every phoneme, every vowel, every syllable. Every time I got a word right, she'd give me a treat out of her white uniform. Soon I was speaking perfect human, with only a slight lisp from time to time. After speaking came reading. At first, Teacher used regulation skillbooks her superiors had issued her. They were bland, unentertaining things that practically forced me to learn. After a few attempts to understand them, I shredded the hateful things into regulation confetti. Thankfully, Teacher had foreseen that the skillbooks might prove frustrating, so she'd smuggled a few ancient children's books with her. They were wonderful, mystical books about talking "cats" with "hats", curious "monkeys" (who I later learned were close relatives of my creators), and other creatures almost as weird as myself. Within a few weeks, I had read all of Teacher's books at least a hundred times over and was hungry for more. Sensing my hunger, Teacher brought a small collection of old novels. These, she explained, were written by her people's greatest authors. I tore through them like a buzz saw through a sheet of plywood. All of them were wonderful, but one of them in particular really stood out: 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea. It had action, suspense, intrigue, and giant octopus fights (in my opinion, all books should have giant octopus fights!) After reading it for the third time in a row, I asked Teacher who had made this wonderful story. She told me that it was written by "Jules Verne", a favorite author of hers. I begged her,literally begged her for more of this Jules Verne's work. She sighed. She said she'd love to, but her superiors were cutting her timetable short. She had only one week left before she was "dismissed". She'd have to make the most of it. Teacher's lessons became more intense. She doubled the length of her lessons, trying to cram as much knowledge into my head as possible. Math. Writing. Science. History. An elementary school education compacted into six lessons. As I worked, I wondered what would happen when Teacher was gone. Who would teach me new things? Who would show me actual kindness? No one, that's who! Despite all my secret pleas to the gods of time, Teacher's last day had come. I walked into the classroom, trying my best not to cry. As always, Teacher was there with the first aid kit (a good thing too. Instructor had been in an even more sadistic mood than usual.), but her familiar books were nowhere to be seen. As she dressed my wounds, Teacher pulled out a paper-thin thinscreen from her lab coat. I asked what we were going to do today. Teacher sighed, and activated the thinscreen. It's time you should know what you really are. A picture of something resembling a giant spoked wheel appeared on the thinscreen. What's that? I asked. Your home. Turns out, that "wheel" was a massive research facility stationed above the far side of Earth's moon (Teacher had taught me some basic astronomy, so I knew what space stations, planets, and moons were, but I still had trouble comprehending them.). It was home to over 10,000 scientists, all in the employ of the Conglomerate. The Conglomerate? I asked. Teacher explained; The Conglomerate was a union of all space-bound industries; mining, manufacturing, power generating, telecommunications, and countless others. It was unbelievably wealthy. So wealthy in fact that it practically owned Earth and all her colonies. What does any of this have to do with me? I asked. Teacher told me to wait. She was getting to that. As well as being extremely rich, the Conglomerate was also extremely paranoid. They lived in constant fear of competition or worse, rebellion. So they invested considerable (even by their standards) sums of money in new weapons technology. Their latest projects included: antimatter and plasma cannons, quantum entanglement comm systems, and, she said with a slight pause, genetic engineering. I was to be the first in a line of genetically engineered supersoldiers. The Conglomerate had taken a mixture of Fox, Wolf, Human, Cat, and (believe it or not) Octopus DNA and spliced it together. The result would be a creature with the cunning of a fox. The loyalty of a wolf. The agility of a cat. The camouflage abilities of an octopus. And the intelligence of a human. I didn't get it. What was a soldier? Why were all these qualities so important? Teacher sensed my confusion and apologized. She forgot that I wasn't exactly an ordinary child, so I'd have no idea what a soldier is. She did her best to explain: "Imagine that there are two groups of people. The first group wants something from the second group. Sometimes it's land. Sometimes it's resources. Sometimes it's something as simple as freedom. Now imagine that the second group doesn't want to comply. They want to keep their land/resources/other group's freedom. Since a peaceful resolution cannot be found, both groups start fighting. These fights are called "Wars". The group's send out people called "soldiers" to fight for them. These soldiers are people who have been trained and equipped to fight for their specific group. They are willing to kill and, if necessary, die for their group. " "So..." I asked, "That's what I was designed to be. A soldier?" "Not just any soldier. THE soldier. Able blend into your surroundings so enemy soldiers won't be able to see you. Able to think faster than any human soldier. Able take on a foe three times your size and number. You are to become all but unstoppable. "It doesn't sound so bad." Teacher took my hand "Really?" "Yeah, I mean, sure "war" doesn't sound very pleasant, but it sounds like something I could learn to live with. Besides, It's what I was designed for" Teacher sighed and placed a hand against my forehead. "What are you doing?" I asked "Let's see what you think of war after this." "After wha..!" A flood of images exploded into my brain. I'll never forget what I saw. Lush valleys turned to quagmires of mud and dead bodies. Peaceful towns reduced to ashes. Whole populations slaughtered. I tried to scream, but nothing came out. It was if my body didn't exist. I saw innocents brainwashed into doing the will of madmen. I saw civilians and prisoners slaughtered in the name of something called "honor". I saw whole nations destroyed for the most trivial of reasons. I couldn't take it anymore. I found my mouth and screamed "PLEASEMAKEITSTOPMAKEITSTOPMAKEITSTOP!!!" The images vanished. I found myself buried in Teacher's lap, crying harder than I ever thought possible. Teacher stroked my head, "it's ok...it's ok...it's ok..." I calmed down a bit "Is Is that wuh...wuh...what war is-is-is lik-k-k-ke?" I choked out Teacher just nodded her head. A floodgate burst inside me. Tears flowed from my cat-like eyes like a burst water tank. I was a genetic patchwork quilt, destined to become a weapon. I was going to kill, destroy, and injure without mercy... and there was nothing I could do about it. Teacher scratched me right behind the ears. My tears slowly dried up. "Listen, you don't have to be a weapon." My ears perked up. "I-I don't have to fight?" "No, you'll still have to fight" My ears drooped again " I'm sorry but you have to fight. That's what the Conglomerate expects you to do. But you don't have to enjoy it. I was confused "I don't understand." "You don't have to be a mindless tool of the Conglomerate. You can stay the way you are." "How?" "It's simple; you only have to pretend that you're becoming a mindless weapon. When you're alone, you can shed the disguise and be yourself." "Won't they notice eventually?" "I won't be able to fool them forever" Teacher smiled "Don't worry. The Conglomerate doesn't know you're capable of tricking them. They think you're as loyal and obedient as a trained dog (pardon the comparison). "Sounds great!" "Oh that isn't the half of it. I've been doing a little 'research'. Apparently, once your training is finished, you'll be released from the facility and sent on your first mission. No one will be accompanying or even tracking you." I was way ahead of her. BING, BING, BING! Teacher looked sadly at the chronometer. "Well, my little pupil, I'm afraid this is goodbye" "Wait!" I shouted "What about that thing you were gonna tell me?" "What thing?" asked Teacher "You know; how humans can be two different creatures and yet still be the same species?" "And, now that I think of it, how were able to show me those images? How were you always able to understand me even when I neverGLOMP!" Teacher grabbed my muzzle and slowly closed my mouth. "I'm afraid that there are simply too many questions, and too little minutes left for me to answer." "You'll just have to find out by yourself. I'm sure you'll find a way." With that, Teacher gently picked me up and carried me out of the room. Before she closed the hatch behind her, she kissed me on the forehead and said: "Goodbye my little fox" She closed the hatch, and the first chapter of my life ended. ******* ************* ************** ************ The next day... I stood outside the physical training arena, feeling like a convict facing ejection into space. I tapped the door's control panel and selected "Open". I pulled the hatch open, expecting to see Physical Instructor waiting for me with his shockstick. To my surprise (and delight), Physical Instructor was nowhere to be seen. In fact, no one was anywhere to be seen; the baseball-field-sized compartment was pitch black. Even my cat-like eyes couldn't make out anything. I pressed the "Lights On" command on the room's control panel. The icon changed from "off" to "on", but the room stayed dark weird. I was about to go find someone when I caught a whiff of something strange. Curious, I crept into the darkened training arena. This was a new scent. It wasn't the greasy smell of Physical Instructor, nor the sweet, honey-and-milk scent of Teacher. It was more....military. Something moved behind me. I whirled around, claws and fangs bared. Something coarse wrapped around my neck. "Wha..." WHAM! Before I could react, I was hurled face-first onto the rubberized floor. A deep voice shouted " If this were a combat zone, you've been dead within ten seconds!" I was flipped over and a hard fist bloodied my already-bruised muzzle. "So far, you've cost the Conglomerate 50 million credits to train and feed!" Another fist connected with my muzzle "And what do they have to show for it?" A vice-like hand grabbed me by the neck "A PUPPY DOG, THAT'S WHAT!! Something hard and bony connected with my head. "The Conglomerate wants a soldier, not a house pet!" Stars flashed. Next thing I knew, I was back on the ground, nursing a bloody nose. "You should be glad they haven't asked for a refund." My attacker tapped something and every light in the arena flashed to life, revealing a six-foot tall male human in a gray uniform. Unlike Physical Instructor's comical figure, or Teacher's lovely features, everything about this man meant business. His thin lips and piercing eyes gave him an almost hawk-like appearance. I could make out the lines of heavily corded muscle through his thin uniform. Not quite that of a body-builder, but still enough to be more than a little intimidating. His only decoration was an elaborate (and strangely beautiful) medal pinned to his chest, standing out like a flower against a concrete wall. "Who...Who are you?" I asked, as I held my paws against my nose. "I'm your new instructor. I'll be taking over the jobs of both your Athletic and Academic Instructors" "But why..." ZZZWHACK! The new Instructor slapped my left shoulder with a shockstick. When you address me, you say "Sir!". Whenever I address you, you say "Yes Sir?". Whenever you see me, you'll stand at attention until I say 'at ease'. "Understood?" I would've ask why he wanted to be addressed as "Sir" (He was an Instructor, not a "sir") But I didn't want to invite any more blows. "Yes, Sir!" "Good. Now I'll answer your question. Your Physical and Academic Instructors were meant to instruct you for the first year of your walking life. After that, the Conglomerate were to replace them both with a dedicated tactical Instructor." I said nothing. He continued. "From now on it'll be my job to turn you from a mad scientist's creation into an effective weapon of war. Understood?" "Yes Sir!" I responded. "Good, we'd best get started. First, physical training." New Instructor snapped his fingers. The training room molded itself into a half-mile long running track. "NOW RUN FIVE LAPS AROUND THE TRACK! GO!" be bellowed in a voice like that of an angry dog. Startled I got off my feet and ran around the half-mile track. Even with my injuries it wasn't that strenous of an exercise; Physical Instructor's "teaching" had hardened my body. I barely broke a sweat during the 2.5 mile run. When I returned to New Instructor, I was surprised to see him pleased. "Good work" My fur turned light blue with content. "...but you're not done yet. My blue tint faded. "FIFTY MORE LAPS! RIGHT NOW! I obeyed without question. As I ran, New Instructor shouted "FROM NOW ON , YOU WILL RUN A MINIMUM OF FIFTY LAPS EACH DAY. FAILURE TO DO SO WILL RESULT IN DISCIPLINARY ACTIONS AND A REDUCTION IN RATIONS!" "DO YOU UNDERSTAND? "YES SIR!" I shouted. Physical Instructor was starting to look a whole lot friendlier... one hour later.. "EXERCISE COMPLETED" I flopped onto the ground. The effort of running fifty half-mile laps had almost completely drained me. My fur felt like a wet washcloth. My heart was beating like a scared kettledrum. My legs felt like cooked noodles. I just wanted to lie down and rest for the next couple of days, maybe even a week, but I doubted I'd get anytime to rest. I half-expected New Instructor to slap me with his shockstick and tell me to get up. To my surprise, when I looked at him, his granite-like features had softened a little. "You now have two units to rest and recuperate" Once you're back to full efficiency, report to the firing range. Ask the main computer for directions. Dismissed!" With that, my new Instructor walked out of the training arena, his synth-leather boots making a series of soft "clomps" on the rubberized floor. I tried to get up, but my body seemed to be made of solid lead. "Guess I'll rest here" I slowly curled into my sleeping position. The floor wasn't exactly comfy, but I was too tired to care. Two hours later, I limped into the station's shooting range. While my two hours of rest had restored my strength, it hadn't eased my aching limbs. Every step I took sent little shots of pain through my nervous system. I'd never been to the Station's shooting range before. In fact, for the past six months of my life, I'd never really been anywhere outside my quarters, the training arena, and Teacher's classroom. It was much larger than most rooms on the Station; about half the size of the training room On one end was a row of transparent plastic partitions. On the other end was a neat row of cylinders, each about the size of a standard waste basket. Standing right in front of the entrance was New Instructor. I instantly saluted "SIR!" "At ease, doggy" This guy was good. It'd taken Physical Instructor two weeks to come up with a good insult. This guy had found one in only a few hours. "Are you absolutely certain that you're at full efficiency?" He said, looking a little closer at me. Was he trying to show me kindness? No...it had to be some kind of trick. " Yes sir!" I lied. My reason for lying was two-fold: if I told him the truth-that I ached all over-he'd most likely use it as an excuse to use his shockstick. And, by making it look like I was willing to obey regardless of my condition, I'd further reinforce my illusion of unquestionable loyalty. "Good." New Instructor snapped his fingers. A cart-like robo-porter whirred to his side, carrying a long silver case. "Come over here." I darted to his side, trying my best not to show any pain. New Instructor undid the case's magnetic clasps and lifted out a jet-black tube attached to a black plastic stock. Had I seen this thing before? I know I had...somewhere. Just then, I remembered: During the vision Teacher had shown me, I had seen soldiers carrying tubes just like this one. When a J-shaped piece of metal near its back was pulled, the tube would spit fire and a small hole would appear in the target. "This is 'rifle'." "From now on, you are to clean and maintain it every day for the rest of your life" "Failure to do so will result in a reduction in rations" I looked at this "gun" like one might look at a particularly disgusting insect. I didn't want to have anything to do with this thing, but I didn't really have a choice. I grabbed the weapon by it's tube, open end facing me. ZWWWHACK! A fresh scorch mark appeared on my shoulder "ALWAYS POINT THE BARREL AWAY FROM YOURSELF!" I grabbed the gun by its stock and turned it around. I guessed that if he didn't want this thing pointing at me, he didn't want it pointing at himself either, so I pointed the "barrel"(why did he call it that anyway?)towards the floor. New Instructor continued: "After your morning exercises, you will spend at least an hour in here each day. You will practice using your rifle until you are ready for more advanced weaponry. " "any questions?" Now that he mentioned it... "Sir..." "Yes doggy, what is it?" "How will you know if I'm ready?" New Instructor fished a small disk out of his breast pocket "You see this ten-credit chip?" "Yes, sir" "When you can put a round dead center in this chip at fifty yards, I will consider you ready." I looked at the chip. It was a tiny thing about the size of my middle clawnail. At fifty yards it would be almost too small to see. It would probably take me years to become that good of a shot. "Do you understand, doggy?" "Yes sir!" "Good, let's get started with the basics." He took a small black case from the robo-porter. "This is a clip" "It holds ten bulletS" "These are what the rifle shoots" He pointed to the flat end of the rifle "This is the butt of the rifle" "you place this against your shoulder when you shoot" "It lets your body absorb the weapon's recoil a lot better." He went on for about 20 minutes, explaining every little thing about the rifle like he would to a child. Once he was done, he slapped the black case into the rifle, pulled back a small lever, and handed the rifle back to me. "All right enough explaining. Lets see how good of a shot you are." He snapped his fingers again. One of the cylinders started glowing, and three concentric circles popped into existence. A large red circle, a smaller green circle, and an even smaller blue circle. "You have thirty seconds to hit the blue circle two times starting...NOW!" I placed the stock against my shoulder, centered the blue circle in the rifle's rudimentary sights, and squeezed the trigger. BLAM! I reeled back, nearly deafened by the weapon's incredible report. My ears ringing, I lined up the sights shot and squeezed the hell out of the little trigger BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! Click. "TIMES UP!" New Instructor yelled. The floor was covered with ejected cartridges and heavy with the scent of propellant. "Let's see how you did" "Computer, show results of target practice" Black dots broke out on the holographic target. None of them even came close to the blue circle. How could I have missed? I'd had the blue circle perfectly aligned. I should have nailed it at least once! "Looks like your rifle shoots a bit high" It tricked me! That dirty rifle tricked me! Why I oughta... "You'll have to aim a little lower next time" "You can work on that tommorow" " Now it's time to move onto advanced mathematics. Later you'll be taking an unarmed combat class as well as..." He went on, describing all the classes I would be taking from now on. This was going to be a long day... Six hours later, I was walking back to my quarters, tired and sore from a hard day's work. It didn't help that I was trying to balance a stack of five 2-pound textbooks in my arms. New Instructor had assigned me a ridiculous amount of textbooks, covering everything from psychology to unarmed combat. Along with that, I had a twenty-pound weapons case strapped to my back, containing my new rifle and everything I'd need to keep it in working order. So as you can guess, I gave out a little sigh of relief when I finally made it to my quarters. As soon as the hatch recognized my retinal patterns and irised open, the first thing I did was make a beeline for the plastic table at the end of the small room. THUMP! Went the textbooks as I dropped them on the table Aaaahhhh... went my arms as they were finally relieved of their burden. Hungry, I walked over to the dispenser for my night-shift rations. Plop! DING! Clunk! DING! What was it going to be this time? I looked at the tray. A bowl of some unidentifiable mush and another capsule of green liquid. Dinner. * ********************************************************************************* SLURP! I licked the last of the mush out of my bowl. It wasn't that bad really. Kinda like a mixture of oatmeal and cottage cheese. The drink was the same sweet/bland mixture I'd had that morning. Not exactly exciting, but at least it quenched my thirst. Throwing my tray down the garbage chute, I turned my attention to the pile of textbooks on my table. I had three hours to study one chapter from each book. That, and I had to clean and maintain my rifle. "Guess I'd better get started" I unsnapped the clasps on the weapons case and lifted my rifle out of its protective padding, along with a bore cleaner, a cleaning patch, and a bottle of synthetic cleaning oil, and placed them on the table. Turning the rifle around, I opened a small panel on its stock and pressed the concealed button. CHIK! The rifle split into it's component parts: bore, action, and stock. I put a little oil on the cleaning patch, wrapped it around the bore cleaner, and rammed it down the barrel. As I scrubbed the inside of the gun, I selected a textbook from the stack. "Beginning Psychology" "Good place to start" I opened the textbook and propped it against the stack. Oiling the action, I flipped to the first page. "Chapter One: What is Psychology?"... *********************************************************************************** One hour later... "And...Done!" I closed the final textbook. An hour of studying and cleaning had left my eyes raw and my hands sore. I checked the chrono-a sort of digital clock-. 97:100 I had an hour left before my sleep shift. Guess I'd better get ready. I snapped my rifle back together and placed it lovingly back in its case, stacked the textbooks in a near-perfect column, and took the biggest stretch I'd ever taken in my life. Pushing aside my plastic chair, I walked towards the small refresher installed in my quarters My fur was matted with dried sweat and pungent cleaning oil, with a few scorch marks here and there. "Time for a shower." I thought. I walked into the tiny shower cublicle and my body was bombarded with pulsed sound waves. Water was a precious commodity here in space. There was no need to waste it for cleaning when sonics could remove dirt just as easily. The pleasant tingle it made was an added bonus. Once I was done showering, I crunched a cleaning tablet in my mouth and went straight to my small cot. As I laid down, I felt something poking me in the back. Annoyed, I lifted the memory-foam mattress and probed for the offending object. I pulled out a small rectangular parcel wrapped in something resembling brown paper. Odd. How did this get in here? The door was coded to me and New Instructor only. Could he have left this here? I sniffed the package, trying to get a whiff of whoever had left the package. All I could smell was the papery scent of the wrapping. Not even a whiff of human. Curious, I took a closer look at the package. On it's side a a red square about the size of my thumb. Below it were two words: "PRESS ME" I pressed it. The package instantly changed from dull brown to eggshell white. A message started scrolling up its face. " There'll be plenty more where this came from" With that, the wrapping disintegrated, revealing an old, leather-bound book. I looked at the title: "The Mysterious Island" Jules Verne! My favorite author! But how... I caught a whiff of something like honey and milk, and I knew at once who sent me this. Teacher Questions flooded my mind. How did she smuggle this thing in? How did she get a hold of a copy like this? This thing had to be worth a small fortune. I mean, the leather cover alone boosted its value into mid-orbit! I pushed my questions aside and cracked the book open. For the next 45 units, it was just going to be me and Jules Verne...