As the gilded door swung shut behind the young vixen of its own accord with a heavy clank, pressurizing with a hollow hiss and locking, she knew instinctually that she had made a mistake. The corridor outside the feast hall looked perfectly normal, the metallic plating polished to a shine and long window banks overlooking cold dead space, yet something was missing.

Then it came to her. All was silence, ominously oppressive and complete, her breathing and the beat of her heart its only rival. In the distance, about twenty feet ahead of her, the hallway seemed to terminate into absolute darkness.

Her neck fur standing on end and the gun heavy in her paw, she took a cautious step forward.

It appeared in front of her, a hologram of the tiger she had just killed flashing into existence in a flare of ghostly blue light. He was whole once more, dressed in a three piece suit of tailored silk.

She didn’t think. She reacted. The muzzle of her gun rose with the speed of a striking viper. The corridor flared a grim red as the gun’s blast impaled the tiger for a second time. The hologram flickered, regained solidarity without so much as a whisper.

His laughter crashed over her, thunderous and cruel. “That won’t work again, my dear. It was only the beginning, a test of sorts. I was impressed by your ruthlessness, I confess, even though at the start of this little project I had great doubts in your actual ability.”

She fought her fear and her hatred, forced herself to stare into his eyes. “Why are you doing this to me?”

The tiger’s eyebrow arched quizzically, his smile condescending. One long, yellow fang gleamed in the bone-white fluorescent light. “It’s always about the individual isn’t it?” he replied. “The ones they love of course, as well. I could tell you that what I’m doing to you is all in service to a greater purpose than you could imagine, even explain why, yet that would be a waste of time. Suffice it to say that this is really about the coming war. Sacrifices must be made.” His smile became a frown. “I should know. I’ve died for this experiment more than once.”

The vixen took a step back. Her heart was pounding. “You’re not making any sense. If this is just some fucked up game to make me accept you as my father it won’t work.”

He waved a mighty paw casually, imperiously, as if dismissing something ludicrous. “No you little fool, this is hardly a game and I could care less what you think I am to you. It’s what you can do for my project that concerns me. All of what came before simply served to naturally trigger your aggression, so that my team could measure your reflex times and hand-eye acuity. Thus far the results are beyond our expectations. The real data, though, will be collected now that you’ve ‘escaped’”.

She stood there, hearing his words but not understanding, not really. She felt as if she were dreaming. The corridor suddenly seemed very cold, its chill wrapping her slender body in a grip of ice.

The tiger chuckled. “No more questions? Good. We can begin shortly, though I suppose I should let you know why you’re going to die here.”

Sarah snarled, spun around. The door remained shut. Spinning again, she scanned the ceiling, the walls, the floor, the gun’s sight following her gaze as if they were one and the same. All was as before, quiet and empty.

“Don’t worry,” said the tiger, his tone mockingly soothing. “It hasn’t begun…yet. You see, you’re the original. The one we plan to copy. Your father defied odds considered astronomical, a soldier whose reflexes and cunning saw him through the worst years of the worst war this galaxy has ever known. Your mother, though she never spoke of it to you, was a government agent who specialized in liquidation, the politically correct term for assassination. She could murder someone from miles away with the right weapon. Combined, their genetics created the perfect killer. You.”

She pressed her back against the locked door, panting, her thoughts racing. It can’t be true. It can’t!

“In any case,” he continued, brushing his long, wicked claws against the brilliant grey silk of his suit as if to clean them, “You’ve failed to ‘escape’ twice, though you’ve managed to kill me both times. Once with a spoon, to my amazement. Don’t ever think you don’t have a murderer’s instincts, because you do. The only reason you’re still alive is because we can’t rely on cloning without a perfect original, so we wiped your memories until you acquired the necessary skills. Now, however, you’ve shown enough of your potential to conclude the experiment…”

“Experiment…” she echoed, fighting and succeeding to keep her voice steady, though she had never been more frightened in her life.

“Yes,” said the tiger, his yellow eyes gleaming with malice. “This area of the station has been sealed off. It’s a maze, a labyrinth you could say. The final data will be compiled by your progress, or your lack of it. Make no mistake, you won’t get out. How long you survive, however, is another matter. Your performance should be invaluable to our geneticists, and though your death is inevitable it won’t be for nothing. Just think. You’ll have immortality of a sort, entire armies of clone soldiers made in your image, armed with your abilities and intelligence.”

Her searching eyes finally found the projector of the hologram. Without hesitation she fired. It promptly exploded, liquefied metal and stinking smoke blossoming. The tiger’s harsh laughter rang around her as a burst of sparks showered down and his image began to fade.

“You’re going to die, you bitch,” he whispered, mechanical distortion warping his voice into something monstrous. Then he was gone.

Seventeen.

The number of shots left in her gun, the number of years she had lived. Shuddering she sunk down to the floor, tears burning in her eyes. Then she heard it, a wet slithering, rasping against titanium in the ducts above her. Sobbing, her teeth bared, she closed her eyes and listened hard. It was still far but it was coming closer.

I can’t give up. I have to get out!