Once upon a time, I’d been good at running. Good on my feet, fast and agile. Not good enough to do anything like compete on a team, mind. I’d left track and field to the jocks, floating along without much of a purpose at all. But I’d enjoyed the feeling of the breeze through my hair as I jogged, following the trails dotting my hometown as they wound their way through forests and between lakes. I might not have been anything to write home about, but I liked it.

Oh, how I missed those days.

My feet were already beginning to ache, my legs howling in complaint at the sudden, unexpected return of actual exercise. I flew down the hallways right back the way we’d come. The device in my pocket bounced along with me, a constant reminder that I didn’t have long. They were expecting me in Harvest, the guard had said. They’d no doubt come looking when I wasn’t delivered there on time - assuming that no one had heard me kill the guard and knock Gaelinin out. If they had, well, they’d already be looking.

Praying that they hadn’t heard was probably too much to hope for, I knew, considering the way it had been screaming. The shot that had killed my captor wasn’t exactly subtle, either. I was on a deadline.

The little sign announcing that Aid waited down an offshoot whipped past me as I kept running. All of my instincts were screaming that I had to run, to vanish somewhere inside the compound, that I had to find a way out. And here I was, running straight back to the test wing. It seemed wrong, and every fiber of my being was protesting against what I was doing.

I knew that it was stupid. It wasn’t like I wanted to be back there. But everything that I needed, everything that I could use, was waiting right in the same stifling hallway I’d lived in for the last few years. And they wouldn’t expect it, right? I clung to the thought like a life raft, even as my heels began to blister. The plain white-and-blue uniform they’d had me in for the duration included a pair of thin, utilitarian slippers - which were no use at all as running shoes. I ignored the pain as best I could, gritting my teeth.

Careening around one final turn, I saw it - the test chambers. My now-locked room waited, just a few doors down in the other direction. I didn’t give it a second look. The door to the test chamber flicked open at my approach. It wasn’t locked, but that didn’t surprise me. I wasn’t sure it even could lock.

I pushed through the gap as soon as it was wide enough, hearing my breath echo through the little room. The familiar desk waited in the center of the lab, chairs right where they belonged. I ducked past it, half-sliding with one hand braced off its steel surface for balance.

The door on the other side of the room was locked. It blended in with the walls around it, without so much as a stripe or different shade of paint to set it off. They’d probably hoped I wouldn’t notice it at all. It certainly wasn’t somewhere I was supposed to go.

But Gaelinin had grown comfortable with my presence as time wore on, and it had let me see things that I shouldn’t - like their office, waiting on the far side.

I slammed my palm into the wall next to the door, wincing in pain as the momentum I’d built up left my skin more scraped and sore than it already was. The featureless wall chirped gently in response - and the screen lit up, hovering just over the paint in lines of barely-visible light.

It wanted something - a code, a password, an entry key. My mind raced, filling me with doubts. But I’d seen that too. Gaelinin had forgotten something in their desk, and had treated the whole thing as some sort of adventure, a tour of its domain. It had trusted me. And I’d memorized every scrap of information I could collect from the afternoon. Sitting quietly and waiting for them to get rid of me had never been part of the plan.

Of course, I could have always misremembered.

With the sudden, horrifying self-doubt fresh in my mind, I faltered, then raised a trembling hand. If I screwed up and entered the wrong code, it could hardly land me in more trouble, after all. I’d already killed. They would already know that something was wrong.

Slowly, but gaining confidence, I punched in Gaelinin’s code, the number I’d secreted away in the depths of my mind. Without giving myself time to stop and doubt, I jabbed my thumb through the faintly glowing enter key.

The door hissed open, revealing the neat, orderly office beyond.

I grinned, relief overtaking even fear as I threw myself through the portal.

The rest of the wing, my room and test chamber, had been designed and decorated with at least something of my needs in mind. But this was a Nalitokk’s office, and that made it a different matter entirely. I tried to still my unease, to move past the way the table was too tall and narrow, the ceilings too high.

The list of what I needed to do ran through my mind. I needed to get my collar off. If it wasn’t tied into the collar, then I needed to disable whatever sensors or systems inside the compound were allowing them to track me. I needed to find a way out of the compound - not to mention the need to figure out exactly where I was in the first place. I’d never heard rain on the ceiling, or thunder. There were no windows in any of the rooms I was allowed in. Wherever we were, it was isolated. Deep underground, then, or....

I squashed the thoughts that followed. Given that they’d swooped down from the black sky and taken me straight from my bed that night so long ago, it certainly seemed likely that we were still in space. That would make escape harder. There was no getting around that. I swallowed hard, looking around.

Even having found an escape route, I needed to make a distraction big enough to get me there. A distraction bigger than a prisoner killing their guard and running loose in the compound.

I’d gone and set quite a high bar for myself, hadn’t I?

My eyes settled on the screen set into the surface of Gaelinin’s desk. The Nalitokk was important, weren’t they? Even more important than I’d thought. A project leader, they’d said. The guard had called them ‘Advisor’, and treated them with nothing but respect.

A console logged in for a person like that would be just what I needed.

I stretched up to my tiptoes, swearing under my breath as I reached for the screen before finally giving up and dragging a box over from alongside the wall to stand on. I was sweating profusely, already sure that I could hear more of the Nalitokk swarming the hallway outside, already certain that I could hear them keying in the door code.

My fingers danced across the screen, bringing the console to life. It paused, flickering, before spitting up the same screen that the door had outside.

Another password. My heart leapt into my throat.

I hadn’t seen it ask Gaelinin for a password before. I had no idea. What did it want?

I stared down at the screen, trying not to panic. Ok. Ok. It needed another password. I only knew one. There was no way I was going to be able to crack it. I’d been barely managing to work my way along in general studies at college - I was by no means a programmer. And even the guys I knew who had been good at that kind of thing would never be able to crack an alien computer system on the run.

That didn’t leave me any options. I would just have to hope my caretaker was as casual about network security as the people of Earth had always been.

Keying in the same password that had gotten me through the door, I paused, hand shaking. Squeezing my eyes shut, I hit the submit button.

The console chirped happily. My eyes flew open again.

The whole desk was laid out with information, details and metrics and files lit up in brightly colored lines across its surface. I grinned broadly, my fear momentarily forgotten. I was in. Good. Thank god that laziness held constant across species. The fact that the system had to recognize that Gaelinin’s controller was standing in front of the desk probably helped, too.

First things first. It was fortunate that the system was clearly laid out for laymen, with clearly-labeled directories - that gave me a fighting chance of finding a damn thing. I needed to turn my collar off before they just zapped me where I stood.

My eyes flicked from side to side, reading furiously. Employee Archives. Duty Rosters. Disciplinary Records.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Subject Security. I fixated on the words, my hand snapping out to tap at it. Additional categories popped up at the top. A grin spread across my face. Two words stood out from all the rest like beacons to my eyes - Subject Transponders, and Room Locks.

There it was. I punched Transponders.

A wall of text scrolled across the desk. I faltered, drawing back. There were...so many categories. So many numbers. Where was I supposed to begin?

I scrolled through them desperately. 10177. That was me, the number that most of the Nalitokk in the compound had referred to me as since day one. I had to be in there somewhere. But there were too damn many numbers, too many subjects. “Shit,” I muttered, feeling my face drain of color again as I scrolled through page after page.

Maybe I was trying to be too complicated about things. I was on an Advisor’s account, after all. There had to be an easier way.

Settings. Everything had a settings window. Kicking my box over to the other side of the desk, I reached for the little symbol that waited into the corner. A smaller window popped up obediently, listing off options.

I grinned, despite the adrenaline pumping through my veins. There it was - a solution.

I couldn’t hit the button labeled Delete All fast enough.

The console froze, exploding into light as a dozen different dialogue windows sprang into being. Each of them seemed to be wanting to make sure that I knew full well what I was doing, that I actually intended to delete everything.

It wouldn’t be forever, I knew. They’d have backups, copies of the data they could restore. But it only had to last me long enough to get out of the compound. I tagged Yes on windows as fast as I could, beginning to chuckle.

The screen shuddered, processing. When it settled, it was blissfully, wonderfully blank.

No time to waste patting myself on the back. I backtracked furiously, heading straight for my next target.

I needed a distraction if I was going to make a getaway - and I knew just how I could get one.

> Room Locks

My grin widened as the window snapped up, listing off countless doors by numbers that meant nothing to me. They didn’t have to - I was already spinning through the lists, selecting wing after wing after wing of rooms.

The satisfaction of hitting Lock Open was nearly tangible.

But even as I hit the button, I heard the klaxon from outside begin. The game was up - the alarm had been sounded. Swallowing another curse, I flicked back into the settings window.

I’d been hoping to get more, to find a way out or even milk their system for a bit of data on where exactly we were. But if the choices I had were “escape” or “Stick around and get jammed back into a cell”, I was going to escape. There was just one more thing I had to do.

I’d seen it when I had delved into the settings window before. It was probably the fact that Gaelinin seemed to have the equivalent of administrator account - whatever it was, I’d make use of it.

> System debug

>

> Begin sensor calibration

The whole system seemed to slow as I keyed in the final command, struggling in vain to take the load I’d just introduced before finally grinding to a halt. A tiny symbol ticking off the seconds was the only indication left that anything was happening at all.

I pushed myself back, jumping down with a thump. I’d done all I could. The Nalitokk seemed to have a perverse fondness for labels, which wasn’t all that odd considering it was a research station. I knew now that the only thing waiting down the wing ahead was Harvest. With that in mind, I felt entirely safe in deciding that heading in the opposite direction was probably best.

The siren was still screaming overhead. I’d probably waited long enough. The guards should have their hands full dealing with the prisoners I’d just unleashed on them. Taking one last second to steady myself as I entered the test chambers again, I shook my head. The door to the hallway beyond slid open.

It was worse, running on feet that were already blistered and sore. I fled down the first hallway I could, passing room after room of-

I skidded to a halt.

Room after room of cowering, quivering subjects. The halls were quiet and empty, without any of the angry, suddenly-freed aliens I’d been counting on. What the hell?

The truth revealed itself at a glance, though. The few prisoners in the rooms around me were thin and ragged, crumpled up into balls in the corner. Most were covered in wounds or bruises. Some were looking up at their suddenly-open door, inspecting it with varying levels of interest, but none had done any more than curl up tighter or begin struggling to push themselves upright.

“Get up,” I hissed, stalking over to the nearest doorway, but the creature inside only shuddered, turning away. I pressed a hand to my face, shaking my head. All right. Not quite what I had hoped for. The Nalitokk were nothing if not effective, apparently.

Under the eerie sound of the alarm, though, I could hear a different noise building - feet, clattering against the floor. I had seen Gaelinin charge up the hallway earlier. The aliens were fast, with more legs to work with and longer strides than I could hope to achieve. They probably didn’t know where I was, but if they saw me, I’d be hard-pressed to outrun them.

They might even have security partitions, doors to lock me in with. I pushed the thought away with a grimace. The system was still melting down under its own diagnostics, with any luck. There were plenty of ways for this to go badly.

There was also the ever-present chance for success, though. I slowed, feet flying underneath me, as the sign came into sight. The hallway ahead was larger, like it was a central route, and there were countless names listed on the placard against the wall.

Including one marked as Dock - with an arrow. God bless the scientists of the universe and their penchant for neat and orderly facilities. I accelerated towards the main hall, hearing my breath loud and ragged in my ears.

The sound of gunfire brought me skidding to a halt again. I threw myself flat against the wall before I could dash out into the main intersection, heart thundering.

From where I stood, I could see another uniformed subject down the hallway. Their skin was thick and black, layered like slate, but even across the distance between us I could see the scars covering every inch of them.

The white lines coating their skin were nothing compared to the wound in their chest. It oozed greenish fluid. They raised a hand to it slowly, as though they were trying to stem the flow. The thud echoed across the facility as they hit the floor.

“Return to your rooms!” a voice bellowed, from somewhere up the hallway behind me. “There will be no further warning!”

The Nalitokk guards, then. Wonderful. I’d run straight into them. At least it sounded like they couldn’t just knock everyone out and be done with it. My plot with the computers was holding up for the time being.

I had no idea how many of them there were, though. And they had guns. There wasn’t all that much I could do against that with my bare hands. Slowly, I glanced back the way I’d come. There had to be something - a side passage, a nook I could hide in - but only smooth, cold grey walls and subject rooms glared back at me. The few of my fellows who’d managed to stumble to their feet and come to their doors had scattered at the sound of weapons fire, taking refuge in their cells.

I could hide with one of them, possibly - but then I’d be risking being locked in with them, once the system reactivated. The guards weren’t going to just go away. Maybe I could-

“Hey!” At the sound of the guard bellowing, its voice eerily discordant, my heart froze. I’d waited too long, I’d lingered when I should have just run. I really was an idiot. My eyes snapped back towards where they stood, widening.

There was no one there. I blinked, staring dumbly, but no angry alien appeared in front of me.

“Return at once!” the guard repeated. I could hear it moving - them moving. There was more than one. And they weren’t talking to me, I realized. Slowly, carefully, I craned my head around the corner.

The two guards were nervous - their eyes flitted here and there nearly faster than I could follow, and their skin quivered disconcertingly. They were advancing down the hallway towards another subject. My heart sank. Whatever race of alien it was, it looked like a child. It hardly came up to the Nalitokks' waists, for christ’s sake. It shrank back, steps faltering.

My mind screamed for me to run. This was the chance I’d been waiting for, a stroke of the good luck I’d gotten precious little of lately. While they were dealing with the alien kid, I could run the other way and be gone.

Logically, I could have made the argument that the guards were simply too close - they’d hear me running. They had guns, and the second they heard footsteps, they could just turn around and shoot me. I could claim that it made tactical sense to attack while they were distracted, seizing their weapons as my own. I’d no doubt need them, if I was going to get to the dock.

Those arguments would have made sense. But there was no room for logic in the pent-up frustration and anger that had been building over the years of being trapped in a cage, made into some alien’s pet project. There was a canister of something left outside one of the subject’s rooms, chemicals for their care or gas for their breathing or whatever. I didn't know, and I didn’t care. It fit nicely into my palm as I seized it, and that was what mattered. Like hell I was going to let them shoot a child right in front of me.

The kid’s eyes snapped to mine as I lunged out from around the corner. They were white-on-white, nearly invisible against his smooth, alabaster skin. The guards were turning, drawn to the sound of running. I grinned at the sight, a small bit of comfort that I’d made the right choice. My arms ached as I heaved the canister up, hoisting it over my head.

The first Nalitokk hissed in pain as the canister hit them in the head. They staggered back, droplets of blue blood flying as they hit the wall. I was hot on the improvised weapon’s heels, though, hands outstretched.

We tumbled together, a mass of grey skin and white cloth as my fingers latched around its throat.

It was struggling - harder than I had expected. The bastards were big, and I was already tired from running. But there was no way in hell I was going to roll over and die, either. I squeezed for all I was worth, eyes wide with terror, and tried not to let it buck me off.

Its friend was turning, though. The barrel of its gun swung up, taking aim. I was on top of its colleague, damn it! It should be a little more cautious about shooting another guard. What if it shot both of us?

It seemed to have no such fears, as it glared at me. Its arms steadied. I gritted my teeth, mind a blur. There was- there was nowhere left to go. There was no way I could get to the other guard’s weapon in time.

I blinked, confused, as a set of thick, heavyset fingers gripped the Nalitokk’s arm, pulling the gun back down. Two sets of fingers.

The alien kid had to stand all the way on his toes as he reached up, barely tall enough to grab the guard’s arm, but he was managing. His skin writhed, the smooth, colorless white erupting in coils and veins as he cocked his head, tugging the guard closer. The guard struggled, raising its other hand to punch the subject.

It never had the chance. I gaped, aghast, as the hallway erupted into high-pitched, nearly inaudible screams of agony.

Blue droplets of blood scattered across the floor as the kid tore the guard’s arm in half without hesitation.