Not to Be Outdone

She awoke to the sound of alarms and quickly receding footsteps. Her mind, still sluggish from heavily fortified food, struggled to make sense. This was sleeping time; experiments should be over. They had gone to wherever they went; things should be quiet. Something was going on outside of parameters.


The word, long forgotten, stole suddenly into her mind, lighting it on fire. How many times had it been drilled into that could not happen? Which procedure finally flushed even the thought of it into the dark gutters of memory? Who would have believed that she, of all people, could stop fighting back?


That’s what had happened. Someone was escaping, someone other than her. That old competitive drive spun into gear. If that other subject was escaping, she would too. On top of that, she’d get out first! The hand-holds were easy, and any impediment to exiting her sleeping pod nonexistent.

They had become complacent, the fools. Now she would make them pay.

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