[Y158 - KZINTI HOMEWORLD]

"Hey you! You with the red hair!" The pudgy grey and white striped shopkeeper hollers at Firemane, now a fully grown eight year old Kzinti, who turns and points a questioning nail at himself. 

"Yes you. Come back here! I believe you have something of mine you did not pay for." 

Firemane casually walks over to the shopkeeper and empties his pockets onto the store's counter. Twenty-five separate items fill the counter before he is finished. With the only emotion in his voice being sincerity, Firemane looks the shopkeeper in the eye and asks, "Is it one of these?" 

The shopkeeper, whose eyes have grown to almost unbelievable size by the time Firemane finishes placing the items on his counter, nearly keels over at the question. 

"Every one of these is stolen. I'm going to have you arrested!" 

"No, no, no. These aren't stolen. They can't be," Firemane replies. 

"What do you mean?" the shopkeeper asks, a little less angry, and a bit confused. 

"They are in your store still, aren't they?" 

"Yes, but you were already out the door . . . " 

"How could that be? You have an alarm, don't you?" 

"Yes." 

"And if I were to walk out with something I had not paid for the alarm would go off, wouldn't it?" 

"Well yes, it's supposed to." 

"Then I obviously couldn't have been on the other side of the door now, could I?" 

The shopkeeper just now notices the small crowd of cats listening to the exchange, and realizes he's beginning to look the fool. "I saw what I saw, and I'm turning you in, you young brat." 

"Ah, but that would be a terrible mistake." 

"And why is that?" the shopkeeper snarls. 

"Because you wouldn't recover the other 865 kilos of missing merchandise." 

This statement brings a large murmuring from the crowd, and a wide stare from the shopkeeper. 

"Did you say 865 kilos?" 

"Yes. I believe the monetary value is quite substantial." 

"And you took all this from my store?" 

"Why of course not! That would be stealing." 

The shopkeeper is by now thoroughly flabbergasted, and wishes he had not stopped the thief just to avoid this scene. He glances down at the items on the counter and does some quick calculations. He realizes almost instantly that the value of goods is the maximum monetary worth one can steal and still be charged with petty thievery. This, however, means arresting this cat will hardly be worth the trouble. He speaks finally in a much calmer tone, "So why don't you just tell me where this 865 kilos of merchandise is, you troublesome scamp?" 

"That wasn't what I had in mind." 

"Well, what did you have in mind?" he responds impatiently. 

"I thought you might hire me." 

"You what?!?" 

"As Chief of Security." 

"Chief of . . . ? You're crazy as a Lyran. I don't need a Chief of Security. And I can't afford to hire anyone -- much less a thief!!" 

"You can't afford not to. Why, just what's here on the counter could pay my salary for about two weeks." 

"That would be a pretty healthy salary," the shopkeeper snorts.

"You'd come out ahead anyway with the reduction in your insurance premiums a full-time security guard allows." 

"What do you know from insurance premiums?" 

"I know you're insured up to your ears against theft -- that you've been broken into five times in the last two years -- that you know of. I know if your next inventory comes up 865 kilos short you'll be uninsurable, and out of business." 

"How do you know all this?" 

"Unimportant. I do." 

"And you can fix all this?" 

"Precisely." 

"I think I'm getting a headache." 

"I can make a mild sedative if you want." 

The shopkeeper eyes Firemane closely, and sarcastically asks, "Is there anything you can't do?" 

"Speak Federation Standard." 

This remark brings a chuckle from the crowd. At the back of the crowd a tall, dark brown, and powerfully built Kzinti perks his ears at the reply, and moves forward to get a better look at the red-haired cat. The cats in the crowd recognize him and move out of his way, allowing him to move quickly to the front to hear the rest of the conversation. 

"I'll take care of security -- balance the books -- do inventory -- watch the store so you can take a break occasionally," Firemane continues. 

"And what do I get out of this deal?" 

"A 15% increase in revenues, and a 31% increase in profits." 

The shopkeeper really stares at the strange red cat now, as the crowd murmurs over that boast. "You can't guarantee such an increase." 

"Yes I can. If in six months the numbers aren't what I've promised, I'll pay you the difference from my salary. You can keep it in a special account for those six months, so I can't spend it, or run off with it. Of course, you'll have to take care of my room and board separately, but I'll be glad to sleep in the storeroom, and food's not that expensive these days." 

"I'll consider it on a condition." 

"Which is?" 

"How did you manage to bypass the best alarm system sold on the entire planet?" 

"If I tell you, do I have a job?" 

"Yes, yes, just tell me." 

At this response the crowd applauds and begins to disperse, though some remain to try and hear Firemane's answer. The red cat pulls a small black box from his pocket. As the black box appears a large claw lands on Firemane's shoulder. He turns to see the tall, powerfully built Kzinti staring him in the eyes. Firemane thinks, There's something familiar about him, while probing the large Kzinti's eyes for some clue. 

The tall Kzinti speaks, "What's your name?" 

"Firemane." 

The large, dark brown cat smiles, making Firemane nervous. "Where are you from?" 

"Who wants to know?" 

Professor Rushwind-Ffaesarrr looks at the young cat and his left ear flicks in amusement. Firemane suppresses a moment of fear at the 'smile'. Recognition slowly plays across his face as he remembers his brief encounter with the starship Captain almost four years past. 

"Do you always answer a question with a question?" Rushwind asks. 

"Do you?" 

Rushwind laughs at the reply and throws a large currency note on the shop counter. "I'll take care of Firemane and his black box shopkeeper." He takes Firemane firmly by the shoulder and escorts him out of the shop. 

Outside, Firemane shrugs Rushwind's grip off of him and asks, "Are you taking me to the cops?" 

"Hardly," Rushwind replies, directing Firemane to walk with him. Firemane suppresses the urge to run, wondering why a legend would take any interest in him. His curiosity finally wins, and he walks with the large Kzinti, though he keeps a wary eye out for the best escape routes available, should the authorities arrive. 

"What do you want with . . . " Firemane starts to say. 

"Where are you from, Firemane?" 

Stony silence greets his question. 

"O.k., where are your parents?" 

"I'm old enough to take care of myself." 

"I don't doubt it." 

Firemane senses the older cat is leading somewhere and his curiosity prevents him from bolting. 

"Where are we going?" Firemane asks. 

"To my apartment." 

"But this is . . . " Firemane's statement trails off as he realizes they are entering the grounds of The Institute. 

The pair of cats walk into a tall building, as Rushwind flashes his credentials at a security scanner. The pair get into the express elevator, and are quickly deposited onto the upper floor of the apartment complex. 

Once inside his apartment, Rushwind speaks. "What happened to your father, Firemane?" 

"I don't know." 

"I was his friend. Your father is Longclaw isn't he?" 

Firemane pauses, waiting for his instincts to tell him whether the truth is his best course of action. 

"Yes," the young feline sighs. "Yes, my father was Longclaw. But he's dead now." The last words are said with no emotion evident in his tone or bearing, though he cannot hide the moistness of his eyes. 

"Damn," Rushwind hisses. As he thinks of his long lost friend, his eyes, too, get moist. "I would have liked to have saved him." He pauses, grinning wistfully at memories of their earliest days together at The Institute. 

Firemane breaks the silence. "I saw you that day at Hell's Marble. You're Captain Rushwind." 

"Yes, but it's Professor and Vice Admiral-Retired now. Since the war, very few don't recognize me right off. When you didn't, I figured you must have been well insulated from all the war propaganda not to know me." 

"I did see some reports, but since I spent most of the last three years working on freighters, I didn't get much video news. Just text. How? How did you know I was Longclaw's . . . " 

"I saw you as well that day at Hell's Marble. Moody told me you were Longclaw's son. You do tend to stand out in a crowd, though when I saw you in the shop, I wasn't sure why you seemed familiar until you used the Federation Standard line. It was a phrase your father used on me back when we roomed together here at The Institute. Your inflection was more perfect than my memory." 

"Yeah. He used to say it back home. He never did learn Standard. Someone offered to teach him. He told them it would take away one of his favorite lines." 

"Sounds like him," Rushwind purrs. "So what brought you here, Firemane?" 

"Freighters," Firemane quips, elliciting a glare of impatience from his host. "After you left us all at the mining facility, we waited for the first transport to come by and purchased transport to the nearest inhabited world." 

"Purchased transport? With what?" 

"Some of the . . . refugees were bright enough to grab some Marconite Crystals when we left Hell's Marble. We also confiscated some Tarteleum from the mining planet you left us on. Anyway, after we got to civilization we went our separate ways.  I stayed with VioletEyes for a while. He was a great engineer.  After we split up, I worked for transport fare as an Engineer's Mate until I could get here." 

"Why here?" 

"The Institute." 

Rushwind's pauses. "Planning to follow in your father's tracks?" 

"He told me to follow in yours." 

Rushwind purrs, "He would. It doesn't pay for soldiers to get caught up in political affairs, whether intentional or not." 

"My father taught me about political intrigue back home," Firemane says with an edge of anger on his words. 

"I'm sure he did," the Professor nods, but then says with utter sincerety and sadness. "But as for The Institute -- you can't get in." 

"What? Why?" Firemane demands, not even attempting to disguise his anger or surprise. 

"It's a closed society. To even be considered, you must come from good stock. Your father's unfortunate circumstance ends any way in for you. Every applicant is thoroughly researched. Once your father is identified, not only would you not get into The Institute, you'd have trouble getting a job as a shopkeeper's assistant. They might even consider shipping you back to Hell's Marble, just to insure you don't try to dredge up any of the details of . . . Well, just to keep you from causing any trouble." Rushwind reads the complete shock and frustration in Firemane's bearing, as the red-furred kitten is for once struck dumb in disbelief. "I'm sure I could help land you a spot in the Traders Guild. A competent engineer is . . . " 

"I don't want to join the Trader's Guild! I came to enter the Institute! There's got to be some alternative way in!" 

"Not unless you can find a politically acceptable father," Rushwind says somberly. 

Firemane looks at Rushwind intensely, his eyes pleading for help his pride won't let him ask for. Rushwind looks at the young cat, and senses the drive and determination that live within the youth. He remembers his days at The Institute, and how he and Longclaw used to compete so heavily at everything. 

Firemane speaks, "My father never got a chance to earn his glory. Are you telling me that I won't get a chance either? That I too am going to be punished for a crime he didn't even commit?" 

The words drive into Rushwind like white-hot spikes. He recalls with anguish the day so long ago when he let Longclaw take the blame for what had been a 'mistake' by both. They had agreed that it would serve no purpose for both to suffer, and 'Claw had been the one chosen by The Fates to take the fall. Rushwind looks at the fire in the eyes of the youth before him and knows it is time for him to repay the debt. "No. Not this time. I'll see to it that you get your chance," he says with a tone of certainty. Then his tone changes as he mentally pulls the details together to help the youth beside him. "It will take awhile to set up. In the meantime I want you to research the planet Ffaesarrr. That's where you're from now. Understand?" 

"I think so." 

"Good. We will both begin work tomorrow." Rushwind has made his decision and knows that worrying about the possible consequences now will only be counter-productive. He also knows what he must do and the chance that he is taking, but he believes with utter certainty that what he is doing is right. With a great burden from the past taken from his shoulders, he relaxes and warms to the amiable young Kzinti before him. 

"Tell me, did your father ever teach you a Terran strategy game called chess?" 

"Yes, but I haven't played since . . . in quite awhile." 

"Neither have I. Let's see how good you are at strategy." 

The two cats play deep into the night, with Firemane winning the first two games, before Rushwind makes adjustments. Each game is longer and more involved than the previous, and more enjoyable to the two parties. By the time they retire for the night Rushwind is sure that Firemane will be quite a tactician some day -- given the chance.   

As the two cats stumble about on too little sleep the next morning, Firemane begins the questioning, "When did you become a professor?" 

"After the war I stayed on the White Dwarf for about two years.  When it was clear the Lyrans weren't going to be returning anytime soon, I requested a transfer to the Institute. I've been here a little over a year." 

"But you're still a Vice Admiral?" 

"Affirmative. Most of the staff of the Institute have seen combat and are in the reserves. Now fix me some breakfast. It's time you start earning your keep." 

"Aye-Aye, Captain, I mean Admiral." 

Rushwind takes his morning sonic while Firemane programs the food-synth. The conversation continues when the two sit to eat. 

"What do you teach?" 

"Basic ship tactics -- intermediate fleet and ship tactics -- advanced ship tactics -- tactical theory . . . " 

"Enough, enough. I get the idea. It was a tacky question." 

"That pun was almost as bad as this breakfast. What is this garbage?" 

"Garbage? This is gourmet cooking on Hell's Marble." 

"It tastes like the dirt from Hell's Marble. From now on if somebody asks what you can't do, tell them you can't cook." Rushwind reaches behind him, and grabs two booklets off a shelf. "Here, take this. It's a normal curriculum for preparation to take the Institute entrance exam. You'll have to pass that on your own." 

Examining the subject list from the first page of the smaller booklet, Firemane yawns and places it on the table. "I guess I'll have to brush up on a couple, but it shouldn't be too tough." 

Rushwind chokes on his milk momentarily, and asks rather skeptically, "You've studied all those subjects?" 

"Sure. It's just I haven't really done much with a couple since I was four or five." 

"How old are you now, anyway?" 

"Almost nine." 

"Nine? You're pretty small for a full grown Kzinti, aren't you?" 

Firemane only glares at his host. 

Rushwind does the math in his head quickly, realizing the brash young cat before him must have been only five years old when delivered from his prison birth place. "You're not eight anymore. You just turned twelve. How, by God, did Longclaw teach all of this to you in five years?" 

"It wasn't just father. I had a teacher/student ratio of thirty to one. There weren't many other kittens around, and all of the adults seemed more than happy to teach me anything and everything they knew. I didn't realize how different the situation was from normal until I had been away from home for almost two years." 

"What about your brothers and sisters?" 

"I didn't have any." 

Rushwind's heart goes out to the orphan cub and he silently remakes his vow to see Firemane gets his chance. "It may take a few weeks to arrange everything. Why don't you go get that job you lined up? It would be awkward to have you stay here. And if you don't pass the exam you'll need it." 

"I'll pass. But the job will occupy my time." 

"Good. You can work there during the day, and study at night. I can help tutor you during weekends. Despite what you say, you still have a lot to cover between now and the exam. Until then, try to be inconspicuous."  Rushwind looks at the bright fur of his new ward and realizes the impossibility of his last request -- shrugs -- finishes his milk, and escorts the youth off campus before going to class. 

Arriving at his Tactical Theory class, Rushwind begins his lecture a little differently. "Class, something new for you to ponder. It's a strategic simulation developed by the Terrans to teach the complexities of maneuvering in battle. It's called Chess." 

***

The next month passes quickly as Rushwind creates a past for Firemane. By setting his fictitious past on Rushwind's home planet, the Professor spares himself a great deal of research. Firemane's chosen town of origin was destroyed by an earthquake three years ago, shortly after the Fourth Lyran-Kzinti war ended, and from there his history is traceable enough to be believed. The fact that the second inhabited planet Firemane traveled to was in fact Ffaesarrr helps immensely. Rushwind's experience in the intelligence community also allows him access to certain materials that help support Firemane's story. 

Rushwind retrieves Firemane from the shop to find the shopkeeper has developed a fondness for the youngster, and is disappointed at Firemane's departure. After reviewing Firemane's new life extensively, Rushwind takes his new found nephew to the administrative building and registers him for the entrance exam to be given in two weeks. Rushwind's presence greases the cogs of bureaucracy that would normally require six months for his entrance request to be processed. 

During the weeks leading up to the exam much studying is done by Firemane, and quite a bit of instruction by Rushwind, filling in the gaps of knowledge caused by Firemane's isolation on Hell's Marble.  Rushwind finds he has a very quick study, who actually has more knowledge on some subjects than Rushwind himself. The Vice Admiral is soon convinced that Firemane will do quite well on his entrance exams. He is correct. 

***

Professor Rushwind enters the office of the Superintendent of the Military Institute of Astral Exploration. The office is spartan as are most of the offices within the military establishment. Other than the desk, two chairs and bookcase that are standard for a Director's office, the sole adornment for the room are three models of starships suspended from the ceiling by thin wires. Rushwind notes that the Command Cruiser model has the markings of the White Dwarf and suppresses the urge to flick his ears. 

Rushwind's current superior waves him to a seat, and takes a file from his desk. "Professor, you have quite a prospect here." 

"I thought so, sir. Otherwise I would not have recommended him." 

"Of course. His scores on the entrance exams were remarkable in several ways. Second highest total score -- no worse than fifth on any one section -- but he missed some of the strangest questions, so I have a few questions for you." 

"Which are?" 

"How well do you know your nephew?" 

"Not very. I just met him a few weeks ago." 

"Did you consider the possibility he might be a Lyran spy?" 

"Yes sir. My own research suppressed those fears." 

"Your own research?" 

"Yes sir. My sister had mentioned him to me, but I'd never met him. So naturally I was a little suspicious. I grilled him on what my sister was like quite thoroughly until I was satisfied that he was indeed her son. Then I contacted my sister and confirmed that Firemane left Ffaesarrr when he said, and he was headed here. I also spent some time at Internal Investigations. I did not want to risk embarrassing myself by recommending an imposter until I had checked into it to my own satisfaction." 

"I see," the Director replies, as the information the Entrance Investigators have given him concerning Rushwind's recent activities now makes sense. 

"I realize his records were destroyed in the earthquake, sir, but I would like to point out that a Lyran plant would have a much better cover. One without such a glaring gap." 

"I agree. But even at that, with no birth record, it will bend the rules quite a bit . . . " 

"May I make a suggestion?" 

"Certainly." 

"If he is indeed a Lyran spy, and assuming he makes it through The Institute, placing him on the Federation or Klingon border would mute his usefulness to the Lyrans greatly.  He wouldn't have access to any information they could use, or at least very little. On the other claw, assuming he is not a Lyran spy, I believe wasting his talents would be a great detriment to our own military." 

"Logical. Okay, you can inform your nephew he's been accepted into The Institute. His timing couldn't be better.  It's a good life during peacetime. With the Klingons having problems with the LDR, while the Hydrans give the Lyrans headaches we may have enough time to build up our military enough to insure our sovereignty forever." 

"Let us hope so. I'll inform my nephew he's been accepted. Thank you, sir." 

"You're welcome, Professor. Dismissed."

Rushwind passes the news on to Firemane, and the two cats celebrate long into the night. When the news comes on the video monitor the next morning both cats sober up quickly." 

" . . . received reports stating the Klingon Empire has launched a sneak attack on several border worlds, followed by a declaration of war received hours after the attacks took place. So far, no formal statement has been issued by the War Department, and details of exactly what has happened are sketchy. Our sources have confirmed, however, that Klingon ships have definitely been seen within our borders, and that some type of encoded message has been received by the War Department from Klingon space. We will give further details as they become available. We repeat, it is . . . " 

Rushwind flicks off the video monitor angrily. Staring at the blank screen he says quietly, "War." 

Firemane examines the dark brown cat, and sees anguish within his new mentor's eyes. He wonders at the unexpected response by the great warrior. How can he be so good at it, and hate it so much? Is it because he won't be a part of it? Yes, that must be it. His own feelings are mixed -- excitement, anxiety, frustration and surprise all rolled together. He ponders his role in the coming war, and silently curses the fact it will be at least three years before he can become a part of it. A very small, unheard voice in the back of his mind tries to remind him that the last war took the lives of both of his parents. The brash young cat is too excited at the prospects the future holds to listen to the voice. 

***

Firemane enters the massive auditorium, marveling at the size and layout of the arena. The push of the other cadets propels him forward allowing little chance to take in the scenery. Firemane makes his way to the front of the room and takes a seat left vacant in the third row. He does a quick calculation and estimates twenty-five thousand Kzinti cadets are present. 

Firemane soaks in the atmosphere, though he avoids getting caught up in the conversation around him. The room is larger than any he has been in and he analyzes the architecture and craftsmanship while trying to come to grips with his feeling that he is both inside and outdoors at the same time. While the young cat absorbs the sights and sounds, the school's director appears on the stage at the focal point of the hemisphere.

The room quiets as the Director speaks, "Congratulations young cats. By being here today you have accomplished what is beyond the abilities of most Kzinti. You have been accepted by The Institute." 

The Director continues for some time, informing the cadets of what will be expected of them during the next three years and what they can expect. Though being selected to attend the Institute is a one-in-a-billion chance, only half will graduate. Most of those that do graduate will hold support positions at star bases or on military planets scattered throughout Kzinti space. Only a precious few will ever serve on anything larger than a freighter. Becoming an officer on a starship is practically speaking, impossible. 

Firemane listens with waning interest as the speaker drones on. Firemane senses the same growing disinterest in the cats around him. As the students become more impatient they begin whispering and shifting restlessly. 

Suddenly, a laser blast is fired at the stage from somewhere in the rafters, and the speaker is replaced by a cloud of white smoke. Firemane is close enough to the stage to see the cat drop through a trap door. Several Kzinti around Firemane assume defensive positions, using their seats for cover, trying to locate the source of the blast. 

A voice booms out over the P/A, "Please remain seated. Do not leave the auditorium." 

Despite the warning, several cats near exits scramble out of the arena. Others, not near the exits, climb over rows of cats trying to reach the doors. 

A second blast is fired and the speaker reappears, unscathed. Most of the cadets are totally confused and continue to crouch between rows. The speaker continues his monologue as though nothing has occurred. 

"Cadets, you have just had your first test at the Institute. Those who left the auditorium failed and will not be returning." 

As this notification sinks in, the cadets retake their seats. 

"What we just did was give you a small demonstration of what life in the military is like. Hours, days, sometimes months of total boredom, punctuated by moments of sheer terror. You are here today because you already know more than most Kzinti will learn in a lifetime, and I'm here to tell you, you know nothing.  Our job is to prepare you for every possible situation that can ever occur. This can only be accomplished by teaching you to think. You will find that many tests will not be announced and will not be in the classroom, just as many things encountered by a starship cannot be covered here. So if you think you are here just to learn how to fight the Klingons and Lyrans, you are badly mistaken. There are a myriad of hazards in space we have yet to discover. Dismissed."

Firemane, being near the front of the auditorium, is one of the last cadets to leave the amphitheater. After consulting his schedule, he goes to the elevator queue and heads to his first class, high in the Tower of Learning. After making his way through the maze of hallways he reaches the room and finds six other students waiting impatiently outside the door. 

"Hey red," the nearest one says, "have you seen any instructors? Ours seems to be late." 

"No, I haven't seen anyone but other cadets since the convocation. I was one of the last out of the auditorium. I think we're it," Firemane responds.

The amiable, leopard-spotted cat who hailed Firemane raises his right paw, claws retracted in greeting, and introduces himself, "I'm Peppertail. What's your specialty?" 

"I've been assigned the engineering curriculum."

"That's seven for seven. We're all in different specialties." 

"Oh?" 

"I'm in Alien Relations. WideEyes here," he says gesturing to a tiger striped cadet, "is in Medical. Windrider's in navigation. Highclimber's in the science curriculum. WhiteEar's a communication specialist, and 'Biter there is . . . " 

"Let me guess," Firemane interrupts, "Security." 

'Biter, a full head taller than any of the others, growls menacingly in confirmation. Firemane growls back at the jet black giant, which elicits a purr of laughter from the others, Firemane being the smallest of the seven by far. 

"By the way, what's your name?" Peppertail asks. 

"Firemane." 

"Well, Firemane, can you construct an instructor for us?" Peppertail asks. 

"That would be bio-engineering. I'm concentrating on the astral sciences."

"You don't really think they'll put you on a starship, runt?" 'Biter sneers.

Firemane develops an instant dislike for the massive cat. Though he glares at 'Biter, he does not respond verbally. 

Peppertail speaks, which breaks the building tension, "Anyone have any suggestions? Do we wait or go look for him?"

Everyone but Firemane and WideEyes voices his opinion. They do this simultaneously, which only results in a clamor of conflicting opinions that no one can hear. 'Biter raises his voice and tells the others to shut up. Once order is restored, he calmly states, "It's obvious there's been a mixup. There's no way the seven of us could be in the same class. Some computer snafu gave us a bogus classroom number. Let's go down to the Admin office and see where we're supposed to be. Come on." 

He turns and begins walking down the corridor, not waiting for the others. The group follows. Firemane falls in step with WideEyes at the tail of the group.

"You're WideEyes, right?" Firemane asks. 

The tiger striped cat nods. 

"You didn't say what you think." 

"You are very perceptive."

Firemane senses the cat's reluctance to elaborate and lapses into silence. As they walk, Firemane begins wondering if maybe their situation has been staged intentionally. The group reaches the elevator queue to find a crowd of roughly two hundred students milling about restlessly. 

"Oh, great!" 'Biter snarls irritably, "Only one mover is working. We'll be here all day. Can't the computer jocks do anything right?"

Highclimber, his tan fur bristling on his lean, wiry frame defends his chosen profession, saying, "At the Institute, even data clerks have higher clearance ratings than security grunts."

'Biter takes a menacing step toward the tan cat, but Peppertail interjects, "Are you two going to fight or try to figure out what we do now?" 

'Biter, irritated by the intrusion turns his attention to Peppertail. "There are a couple of hundred cats in front of us. What do you suggest?"

Peppertail responds softly. "I don't know. But we ought to be able to find a better way to kill the time than killing each other."

'Biter snorts his disdain.

Windrider interrupts, "Maybe we can use the rampwells or transporters."

The other six students stare at the stocky, yellow cat questioningly.

"What transporters?" 'Biter asks.

"This is only the central core mover queue. There are rampwells at all five corners of the tower and transporter platforms every twenty floors." 

"How do you know all this?" spits 'Biter. "This is the first time we've ever been in the tower."

"I just read the map that came with my acceptance notification, which you obviously skipped," Windrider responds arrogantly.

A chorus of 'I-didn't-get-any-map's greets the yellow navigator in response to his announcement. 

"Let me see it," barks 'Biter. 

"I don't have it." 

"What good is it, if you leave it home, idiot?" 'Biter says in disgust. 

"I memorized it." 

"You what?" Several of the cadets ask in unison.

"I memorized it. I know the layout of the entire building down to the number of recycle bins at waste reclamation. Would you like me to tell you where to go?" Windrider directs his question toward 'Biter, his whiskers pulled back sarcastically.

This comment elicits a few purrs of laughter from the others. 'Biter growls in answer.

Firemane has remained silent, though this new revelation convinces him that all is not as it appears. As he is about to speak, Peppertail says, "Does everyone want to hang around here or go check out the rampwells and transporters?"

The others express a desire to explore. though 'Biter mumbles something about getting lost under his breath. Windrider begins leading the group through a maze of corridors, seemingly designed with the express purpose of making navigation difficult.

In step with WideEyes once again, Firemane asks, "Did your acceptance packet say to bring anything special?"

"A standard mobile medical pack. Nothing that would be of interest to you," the tiger-striped cadet answers coolly.

"I was told to bring a magneto-sealer." 

"Interesting."

"What do you mean?"

"I observed WhiteEar tinkering with a transceiver before you arrived."

"So we all brought something related to our major study. Do you think it's important?"

"Possibly. It is conceivable that we are expected to use them in our classes, or conversely, we are supposed to use them to locate our classes."

"You mean, you think this is some kind of test?"

"It is within the realm of possibility. They did state they would do that during the convocation."

"Why don't you say something to the others?" Firemane queries.

WideEyes pauses, choosing his words carefully. "At the moment it is only speculation. I do not wish to say anything until I have more data with which to support my hypothesis."

Firemane feels very small, very young, and a bit put back by WideEyes' tone -- that of a parent to a child, as if trying to explain something obviously beyond a kitten's grasp.

"I think we'd have a better chance of figuring things out if we share our information. Someone else may have noticed something you missed."

"Unlikely," WideEyes replies smugly. 

Firemane abandons his conversation with WideEyes and picks up his pace to parallel Highclimber. Firemane notices Highclimber's intense stare at the back of 'Biter's neck.  Firemane can tell the tan cat is still agitated with 'Biter. 

"Were you told to bring something?"

Highclimber looks down at Firemane and responds irritably, "Yeah, I brought my access module. So?"

"Access to what?"

"To the computer, shorty. What do you think?"

"I think we could use that module to find out what's going on," Firemane snaps, beginning to feel persecuted about his height.

"Nice idea, but I haven't seen any terminals. Have you?"

"No. But I bet Windrider can find 'em."

Highclimber raises his voice, "Hey Windrider, where do they keep the computers around here?"

Windrider stops and turns, bringing the party to a halt. "Sub-basement three is the main computer room. Why?"

Pulling a small octagonal disc from his tunic, Highclimber says, "Because I can find out what's going on with this, if you can get me to a terminal."

"That's a great idea!" Peppertail exclaims as the others gather around the computer specialist, all asking questions except Firemane and WideEyes.

"Give me that," 'Biter demands, reaching greedily for the module.

Highclimber snatches it back and repockets it quickly, stating, "No way. This stays with me, and me only."

"Don't push me, cub. I'll wipe you out of existence," growls 'Biter.

"Yeah, like the Fates did to your brain," mumbles Firemane just a bit too loudly.

'Biter turns immediately toward Firemane and says, "So the little kitten has a big mouth. Why don't I shut it for you?"

Peppertail tries to intervene, but is shoved aside by 'Biter with almost casual ease.

"I'm going to enjoy tearing you apart, runt," 'Biter sneers, lunging at Firemane.

Firemane dives for the floor, doing a roll block on the massive black cat. He gets up instantly, turning to jump on 'Biter's back, knowing his only prayer is to rely on his quickness to overcome 'Biter's superior size and strength. He is surprised when he finds 'Biter already on his feet, grinning menacingly. Firemane takes a deep breath, thinking, This is going to be hard.

'Biter feints a lunge toward Firemane, watches Firemane dodge to his left and then pounces on his smaller adversary.  Firemane cannot avoid his powerful opponent and finds himself rolling on the floor with 'Biter.

The other five cats spread out to let the two fight.  WhiteEar and Highclimber root openly for Firemane. The others voice no preference, but inwardly all hope that their red companion can survive. They all know Firemane has no chance to win.

Firemane twists, turns, claws, bites, hacks and slashes at 'Biter. He moves like lightning, never in the same position for more than an instant, but 'Biter meets him bite for bite, though with more power and effect. Firemane winces as a claw digs deep into his side, but returns the favor, getting a mouthful of 'Biter's left ear. Firemane finds himself on top and takes the opportunity to disentangle himself from 'Biter.

Leaping backwards, Firemane regains his feet, but slams into the corridor wall. 'Biter leaps after his small red prey, laughing viciously at his overmatched opponent. Firemane manages to elude 'Biter's grappling attempt, but realizes in this moment that 'Biter is toying with him.

As the two square off again, Firemane starts a dialogue with the massive black cat, hoping he can figure a way to keep 'Biter from killing him. "You're awfully quick for a cat your size."

"Thank you," 'Biter responds slashing a claw across Firemane's left cheek.

"You have a strange way of thanking your admirers."

"Admire this," 'Biter responds, using a leg sweep to slice another gash into Firemane.

Firemane leaps for 'Biter's throat, but instead finds himself being tossed into the far wall by a routine deflection throw. Firemane crashes into the wall hard, but manages to come down on his feet and facing 'Biter.

Firemane thinks as he shakes the cobwebs from his head, I could fight this cat a thousand times and never beat him. Now what do I do?

'Biter pauses, sensing the imminent victory over the small red cat with the big mouth. The two circle warily, waiting for an opening.

Firemane remembers his father teaching him about single combat. He remembers how Longclaw never let him win, always introducing a counter-measure to each attack Firemane mastered.  He also remembers the one time he surprised his father, using a technique one of Longclaw's friends showed him, without his father's knowledge.

Firemane retracts his claws, which triggers 'Biter into action. The large black cat flies at Firemane in a blur. Instead of dodging as before, Firemane stands his ground, stepping into 'Biter and throwing a vicious left jab directly into 'Biter's nose.

'Biter's weight brings Firemane down as both cats hit the deck, but 'Biter is stunned and confused. He gets up quickly out of pure reflex, but Firemane is up also, throwing a combination of punches into 'Biter's face. Dazed by the barrage, 'Biter stumbles backward, trying to block the blows with his claws, while turning his sensitive nose away.

As soon as 'Biter's head turns Firemane lands a blow to the rib cage, knocking the wind out of the big, black cat. 'Biter doubles over slightly and Firemane lands a powerful uppercut square on 'Biter's nose. 'Biter falls over backward as Firemane winces and tries to shake the pain out of his right wrist.

The sudden turn in events has surprised everyone, including Firemane. Unfortunately for Firemane, when 'Biter hits the floor he becomes truly enraged. Rolling over quickly, he evades Firemane's kick and leaps at the red cat's throat with phenomenal quickness.

Firemane is helpless. 'Biter tosses him into the far wall ferociously. Before Firemane can clear his head, 'Biter is clawing and biting, taking huge chunks out of his small adversary.

'Biter gets a firm grip around Firemane's neck with his powerful right claw, raising the red cat nearly a meter off the floor, and pins him against the wall. Firemane struggles to free himself as 'Biter chokes the life out of him. As he is about to black out, Firemane feels the grip released and falls to the floor. As he struggles to suck air back into his lungs, he looks up to see five Kzinti cadets struggling to keep 'Biter at bay.  He sees WideEyes wave something under 'Biter's nose and the black powerhouse calms down considerably. Firemane is pleased to see a small trickle of blood running out of 'Biter's right nostril. He thinks, At least I did a little damage.

Firemane, still gasping for breath, rises slowly, trying to think how he can prevent this from happening again. "'Biter," he wheezes, "let's make a deal."

"I don't deal with pussies like you."

"I'll trade tutoring in any subject you name, if you'll instruct me in personal combat techniques."

'Biter cocks his head in interest. "Why?"

"A couple of reasons," Firemane says, pausing to spit some of the bloody saliva filling his mouth. "First, you're not the only cat who's going to try to take advantage of my size, so I'll need to know how to take care of myself. Secondly, you'd probably enjoy it more than killing me now."

"Huh? What do you mean?" 

"Would you rather beat me up several times a week, or just kill me once?"

The other cadets purr in laughter at the comment. 'Biter responds with an evil grin.

The tension is broken and WideEyes steps forward and begins dabbing some ointment on Firemane's wounds. The sting of the antiseptic causes Firemane to wince.

As WideEyes sees to Firemane's wounds, the other cadets, with the exception of 'Biter, gather in a tight circle to discuss their situation. 'Biter, angry and embarrassed with his performance against Firemane, wanders away, disappearing down the corridor in the general direction of the central elevator queue.

Peppertail leads the conversation. "At least we won't have to put up with 'Biter now."

"Yeah, I was getting tired of his attitude," Highclimber concurs.

"I want to find out what's going on, so let's just hurry up and get moving," Windrider urges.

"WideEyes thinks this might be a test of some sort," says Firemane. "Yeoowww!" he yelps as WideEyes vigorously rubs some ointment into a particularly deep cut.

"Really?" asks Peppertail. "What kind of test do you think it is?"

"I simply reiterated to Firemane that during convocation it was mentioned there would be unannounced tests, not necessarily in a classroom environment. I was simply speculating, and there is only circumstantial evidence to support the concept at present."

"It seems like more than a coincidence that two hundred other cadets were all sent to wrong classes," voices Firemane.

"That's right!" exclaims Peppertail. "That might explain why all the other cadets were waiting for the movers."

WhiteEar, scratching nervously at the one white spot of fur on his left ear, which interrupts his otherwise solid orange mane, enters the conversation pessimistically, "But we have no idea what we're supposed to do or even if this is a test at all. And fooling around with the computer system might get us all in trouble."

Firemane considers the bright orange cadet, whose white left ear twitches nervously. "You may be right. We would need some idea of what type of test it is."

"There must be clues for us to find or none of this makes any sense," Windrider begins. "If it were unintentional, there should have been some kind of announcement on the P/A."

"Windrider is right," Highclimber agrees, "There's been no announcement, so this has got to be a test."

"Which means they are going to need levels of performance to make comparisons. In other words, some type of goal or goals," says Firemane.

WideEyes interrupts, "There is no evidence to support that supposition. It is equally likely that whatever is going on is simply a psychological test, and not necessarily goal oriented."

Firemane assesses the tiger-striped cat's theory for a moment before speaking. "That is possible, but why would they put us in standard exploration groupings, and wouldn't they get as good or better psyche info with a goal oriented test?"

When WideEyes doesn't respond to the question, Peppertail asks, "Anyone else have any thoughts on our situation?"

Highclimber asks, "Where would they put clues?"

"It would have to be somewhere all of us could find," says WhiteEar.

"Maybe we already have a clue, but we don't know it," Peppertail proposes.

"How?" Highclimber asks.

WideEyes pulls his class schedule from his tunic pocket and begins scrutinizing it carefully. The group stops and follows the tiger-striped cat's lead. Comparing the documents, they notice a block of letters and numbers on the lower left corner of each schedule with no readily apparent purpose. The figures are slightly different on each student's schedule, but contain a definite, but unexplained, pattern.

"Score one for WideEyes," Peppertail states, "I think this is a clue, but we need to decode it. Any takers?"

WhiteEar, still comparing several schedules, copies the figures from everyone's schedule onto a small note pad and returns the documents to the others.

"Can you break the code?" asks Windrider.

"Give me a minute, will you?"

"What's our next move?" Peppertail asks.

"I think we need to go find 'Biter," Firemane states begrudgingly.

"For Fates sake, what for?" questions Highclimber.

"He's got a class schedule, too, and we may need all of them to figure out what we need to do," Firemane says.

WhiteEar complains, "Can't we see what we can find without him first?"

WideEyes answers, "At the moment we know which direction he went, and have some hope to locate him. I must agree with Firemane. If we do not ascertain his whereabouts presently, we may not be able to locate him later."

"Come on," Windrider commands. "Follow me."

The group follows the yellow navigator through the maze of corridors back to the elevator queue. Though there is still a moderate sized crowd of students waiting casually by the lift, there is no sign of 'Biter.

"Now what?" groans WhiteEar.

Peppertail answers, "I guess we either hunt for 'Biter or go to the computer room."

Highclimber interjects, "If you get me to a computer terminal I may be able to locate 'Biter with the security surveillance system."

"Then let's go," Windrider says, moving down the corridor motioning for the others to follow. The group begins moving through the maze of corridors again. At Peppertail's urging they stop at all the intersections and yell for 'Biter to rejoin them. They get no response and cease the process when they pass the point Firemane and 'Biter had fought.

After passing this section, the cats hurry through the corridors, quickly reaching the rampwell. Beside the rampwell they find a freight mover Windrider had not mentioned. The door to the elevator is triple the size of a normal mover. However, instead of a simple call button, there is a computer security panel requiring an access card to activate the elevator.

"Why didn't you say anything about the mover, Windrider?" asks Peppertail.

"Because they require security access cards to operate and we don't have one."

"Unfortunate. It is conceivable that 'Biter was issued one," notes WideEyes.

"Great," moans WhiteEar, "so the mover's a dead end."

"Maybe not," Firemane responds, taking his magneto-sealer and removing the panel from the wall. He spends two minutes altering the wiring of the panel, then restores the keypad to its original position.

"No luck, huh?" asks Highclimber.

"Let's see," says Firemane, punching in the number one repeatedly. On the tenth digit the blue light signals the mover is on its way.

The others give a cheer at his success. Moments later they are on their way down to the computer center in the subbasement of the structure. The mover stops at the fourth floor though, and a surprised shipping foreman orders them to exit the mover, gives them a good tongue lashing and tells them to stay off restricted equipment.

As the group is being escorted out of the loading area, WhiteEar notices a holomap of the building. More importantly he notices a group of letters and numbers being displayed at a highlighted area of the hologram.

"That's it! That's the code."

"What have you got, WhiteEar?" asks Firemane.

"The codes on our schedules are locations in the building. See those numbers on the holomap."

Before they get a chance to examine the map, the foreman herds them out of the loading area and locks them out.

"Windrider, did your map have any of these numbers on it?" asks Firemane.

"No. The designations were completely different."

"Blast! We've got to get access to that holomap."

"Get me to a terminal and I'll access anything you need," boasts Highclimber.

"The main computing center is in the third subbasement," advises Windrider, "and that's only seven floors down. Follow me," Windrider says enthusiastically, jogging off quickly with the others trotting close behind. The group takes a rampwell down into the bowels of the complex.

Only a few meters inside the computing center, the group is stopped by a large, ill-tempered security officer. Peppertail steps forward to try and talk their way into the Center, but might as well be talking to a stone wall.

"We just need a couple of minutes and we'll . . . "

"I know exactly what you need, and you're not going to get it. I was a cadet not so long ago and I didn't get as far as you have. So I didn't get a starship commission. I got buried here, guarding computers from the likes of you. Now you're going to spend the rest of the day in a detention cell. You're through getting points on your first exam. Now march!" he orders, waving his phaser in the direction he wishes them to go.

As the group turns and moves as directed, Firemane turns to Windrider, on his left, and says, "I think this is why we needed 'Biter along."

At these words the security officer centers his attention on Windrider, stating menacingly, "Don't get any fancy ideas, 'Biter."

"I'm not 'Biter," Windrider explains. 

"Then who is?" asks the security guard. 

"I am."

The group turns at the sound of the voice to see 'Biter behind them. Before the guard can react, 'Biter springs into action, whirling and knocking the pistol from the surprised security officer's grasp.

Firemane marvels at the speed of the huge cat. When he had been fighting 'Biter, he barely got a feel of how quick the black feline was. Now, in the role of spectator, Firemane wonders how he managed to survive his duel for as long as he did.

'Biter is all over the older cat, allowing no chance for counter-attack. The cats roll over several times, slashing and clawing at each other, 'Biter clearly getting the best of the officer. Just when it appears 'Biter is going to subdue the cat, the guard manages to get 'Biter's left arm in his mouth, biting down hard.

'Biter yelps at the pain and then does something utterly surprising to all those present. He retracts the claws on his right paw and slugs the older cat in the nose, bringing forth a gush of blood and a yelp of pain. When the security officer opens his jaw to yelp, 'Biter removes his injured arm from his opponent's mouth and punches him again. One vicious three punch combination later the security officer is unconscious.

"You picked a good time to show up," notes Peppertail.

"I've been following you for some time. You really ought to be more concerned about covering your backs. Sloppy. Very sloppy."

"I am interested to learn why you chose to follow us," says WideEyes.

"I heard you stamping after me like a herd of Bleeverine, so I evaded and trailed -- standard Security procedure, really. Keeping up with you when you stole that mover was tough, but hey, if you know your stuff no one can elude you," he boasts.

"That's all fine and good," Windrider says, "but we need to do something with this guard before another one comes along. And we need to find a terminal so we can get this test over with."

The others agree, and after stashing the unconscious officer in a supply closet, the group of cadets finds an unoccupied terminal. While Highclimber is using his access module to call up the data they are after, WhiteEar sits down with his back to the wall grumbling quietly to himself.

While the others huddle around Highclimber, Firemane sits beside the orange cat. "What's eating you, WhiteEar?"

"We're dead. They're going to slash us out when they find out what we did to that security officer. We're finished."

"Who's going to tell?"

"That idiot security officer, who do you think?"

"There are two possibilities, WhiteEar. One, they intended for us to run into him, in which case we shouldn't be in any trouble, because we successfully took him out."

"And what if it wasn't intentional?"

"Would you report being beaten up by a group of first day cadets? He'd lose any status he has, and more than likely lose his present post and be demoted for such sloppy work. They'd probably send him to some hell hole of a planet or some mining colony."

WhiteEar sees the logic of Firemane's argument and brightens somewhat. "So maybe we won't be dismissed?" 

"So maybe we'll get a commendation. Looking at the down side of an operation before proceeding is good military strategy, but if that's all you concentrate on you'll do nothing but fall back until you've surrendered. Anyway, WideEyes said you had a transceiver. What kind?"

"Oh, I don't have a transceiver. I just have the components to make one. But I don't have any tools."

"I've got a magneto-sealer. Why don't we assemble your components while Highclimber does his work?"

"Great idea, Firemane," he says, as they immediately go to work.

Ten minutes later the coordinates of all the rooms are known and WhiteEar's equipment is operating adequately. In addition, Highclimber manages to tap into the main processing bank and uncovers some critical information. 

"There's a running surveillance program tracking the progress of each group. Most have returned to the arena and are milling about doing nothing. There's a large contingent swamping the admin offices, several groups are on the move throughout the complex, and one group is listed at level sub-three -- Computing Center."

"That would be us," Peppertail notes.

"It get's better," Highclimber continues, "Each group has a running score. We're in second place."

"Second place?!" WhiteEar asks in disbelief. "We still don't even know what we're supposed to do?"

"Yes we do," WideEyes says matter-of-factly, pausing just long enough to ensure he has everyone's attention. "Our class schedules listed seven locations withing this structure. We speculated aloud that those locations could be important. The security system monitors both audio and video. Discovering the prescence of the codes and subsequently deducing the meaning of those codes is likely to be the primary source of our points. Hence, our course of action is clear -- go to each of those locations and see what awaits us."

"Makes sense," Peppertail nods.

"Since we're in second, if we move quickly we might win," Windrider notes.

"Okay, but where do we start?" asks Peppertail.

"We ought to go to the nearest one. It's on the fifteenth," suggests Windrider, his yellow fur bristling in anticipation.

"How are we going to traverse the distance?" asks WideEyes.

"What do you mean?" queries Highclimber.

"The location highest in the tower is over a hundred floors above us. Do you intend scaling one hundred stories on foot?" WideEyes asks.

"We can still use the freight mover. I'll just program it not to stop at the freight dock and we'll be okay," Firemane suggests.

"Then I suggest we start at the location highest in the tower and work our way down," 'Biter interrupts. Depending on what we find, we may have to split up to check out the others and traveling downward will be easier than upward."

"Let's go then," Windrider urges.

Highclimber interrupts the conversation, "I can do more good here than I can running around the building. I can keep looking for more data in the computer and keep track of the competition at the same time."

"But how will we know what you find?" asks 'Biter.

"With these," announces WhiteEar, displaying two small boxes. "This is a transmitter and this is a receiver. I don't have enough parts to make two transceivers, but Highclimber can send any information he finds to the rest of us as long as we've got the receiver."

"Leaving Highclimber by himself is poor security procedure," 'Biter explains. "I should stay with him."

"I can take care of myself," snaps Highclimber, not particularly pleased with the prospect of spending time alone with 'Biter. 

Peppertail gets between the two before they can start scuffling, saying, "Leaving Highclimber by himself is probably a bad idea, but let's figure out who is the best choice to leave with him."

"I still think I ought to stay," 'Biter says, relishing the idea of another security grunt showing up.

"I'd rather have you with the scouting party. Your speed and strength could be much more valuable upstairs," states Firemane, hoping the compliment will sway the black cat's thinking. The others nod in agreement.

"I've used all my equipment," says WhiteEar, "I can stay."

"What do you think, WideEyes?" asks Firemane.

The tiger-striped medico pauses to think before saying, "We may find additional communication equipment while reconnoitering, which may require Cadet WhiteEar's expertise. I agree that, depending on what we encounter, it may be efficacious to have 'Biter with us. It is unlikely the administration would choose to schedule a change in guard assignments during this test, so I find it dubious that another officer would arrive in the immediate future. However, those in charge of the computer center may notice the guard is missing and may also ascertain the presence of Highclimber. I would suggest the most propitious way to handle this contingency is to have someone who can negotiate free passage rather than resorting to the use of fisticuffs."

The group turns as one to look at Peppertail.

"Peppertail, it looks like you're elected. You keep watch for Highclimber. If anyone comes along do your best to con them into letting you stay," Firemane says.

"I'll do what I can."

"Windrider, freight mover -- double time," 'Biter commands.

Windrider trots off toward the freight elevator with the others behind.

It takes Firemane little time to rewire the elevator controls, allowing them access to the mover. But before they begin their ascent, he opens the destination panel and does some more rewiring.

While he works, 'Biter takes charge. "Windrider, you'll take the point and I'll follow. WhiteEar, you follow me, then WideEyes. Shorty can bring up the rear. Since we're starting high and working our way down, depending on what we find, we may need to split up to check out the others, but I'd rather not, since we don't have enough comm-links to go around. It's also very bad to ever leave any single operative alone."

"I wish I had brought some more parts. Then I could have made some more transceivers," complains WhiteEar.

"I could go shake down some other cadets for parts," 'Biter suggests.

Firemane eyes the cat as he activates the mover and they shoot upward. Rubbing his sore right shoulder Firemane says, "Better them, than me."

"What if we don't find anything?" WhiteEar asks.

"It may simply be a case of going to all the appropriate locations is sufficient to pass the examination, but I seriously doubt that. I expect we will have some other puzzles to solve, possibly a different hurdle to leap at each location," suggests WideEyes.

The mover reaches the one hundred seventh floor and opens to a wide corridor.

"Lead the way, Windrider," 'Biter commands.

The group follows their stocky, yellow guide through a maze of corridors. This floor also seems to have been laid out to make navigation impossible. The walls are curved in some areas, straight in others. The floor angles up or down occasionally, rolling for no obvious reason. Cross-corridors come at irregular intervals and none of the entrances they pass are marked. Windrider abruptly stops at an unmarked door and announces, "This is it."

The door has a security card slot beside it, requiring a special disk to unlock the portal. Firemane removes the magneto-sealer from his pocket to remove the cover. A large claw lands on his right shoulder and a voice says, "I wouldn't do that."

Firemane spins around to find 'Biter smiling at him. "Why?" the red furred cat asks, irritably.

"That's a T'haessian security panel. If you tamper with the controls while the system is engaged you get 50,000 volts for your trouble."

"Then how do we bypass it?"

"We don't. No one has ever successfully broken into a T'haessian IV security system. You're lucky the movers only use a model II."

"They've given us the tools to accomplish everything else.  I can't believe they'd lead us to a dead end," Firemane grumbles, repocketing his tool.

"Maybe . . . " Windrider starts, but is interrupted by the squawk of WhiteEar's receiver.

"This is Peppertail. As you've stopped moving, I thought I would provide an update. Highclimber's tapped into the surveillance net, so we can tell precisely where you are. He's also found a clock running, and it appears there is only one hour left in the testing period. Peppertail out."

"Not much time to cover the other six locations," Windrider notes.

"We could save time if we could ask Highclimber if there are security locks on all seven locations. If some don't have security, we could hit those first. If not, maybe he can deactivate them somehow."

"I could take the lift down and ask," WideEyes offers.

"I still say we can shake down somebody and let WhiteEar build another transceiver," 'Biter interrupts.

"Even if I had the equipment, they don't have a receiver downstairs. Without a speaker I could build a thousand transmitters and they'd never hear a thing," WhiteEar explains.

"Well, regardless of all other considerations, we're killing time by standing here. Let's go back to the lift," Windrider commands, heading off without waiting for a reply.

The group hustles off toward the mover, but while they are running Firemane notices the P/A speakers recessed into the walls at regular intervals. Matching pace with WhiteEar, he asks the pessimistic communication specialist a question.

***

In the bowels of the high rise, Highclimber and Peppertail monitor the group's progress, or rather lack thereof, on the computer display.

"How should I know why they stopped?" Peppertail asks. Maybe they're having trouble activating the freight elevator."

"Could be. But why didn't they go into the engineering lab?" Highclimber asks.

"Maybe they couldn't get in because of a security lock? Can you find out?"

"Maybe," responds Highclimber, immediately going back to work ferreting data out of the computer.

The P/A system comes to life and Highclimber and Peppertail turn and stare at the speaker overhead as if it is a ghost.  Throughout the building many confused cats also listen to the message.

"Attention, great cats. For the next hour we will be performing repairs and maintenance on the Public Address system. Please ignore any extraneous messages you may hear during this time. We regret the inconvenience. Lieutenant Highclimber, please report security status on objectives one through seven in top down format."

Highclimber is flabbergasted and stares silently at the speaker. It is clearly 'Biter's voice asking for the information. Peppertail brings him out of his stupor, snapping, "You heard him. What's the security status of the seven locations?"

Highclimber turns back to the computer screen, shaking his head as he strokes the keyboard, wondering how the others managed to get on the P/A system.

Peppertail says into the transmitter, "He's retrieving the information now."

Ten seconds later Highclimber has the information and Peppertail relays the data, peering over Highclimber's shoulder.  "Security locks on all but one location -- sixty-third floor.  Anything else we can tell you?"

The response comes instantly over the P/A, "Affirmative. Check lead group and report status."

Highclimber accesses the surveillance program. Peppertail gives the information. "Lead group has entered two areas where it received points. They are presently moving, probably to their third objective. Wait, they're entering a transporter station.  They've dematerialized . . . reacquiring . . . they're on the one hundredth floor. They just stepped into an elevator and are going up."

On the one hundred seventh floor Firemane has an inspiration. "Tell them to relay order and status of group one's objectives." 'Biter cocks his head questioningly, but asks the question over the P/A system.

Peppertail looks at the data and immediately sees the reason for the question. "Sixty-three for first -- thirty-seven for second -- and they've just stopped at one hundred seven." Before Peppertail finishes the statement, he sees the computer figures representing the others moving quickly toward the mover that group one has just parked on their floor. He realizes they are going to run into the other group unless they alter course.

"Group one is approaching your area from ahead."

Peppertail and Highclimber grin when the party takes an immediate right turn, avoiding contact with the other cadets. The party continues moving quickly, diverting several corridors over before turning and continuing toward the elevator.

"You've avoided them. However, they've stopped at objective three. It's only a few doors down from ours. They've opened the security lock. They also just tallied some more points."

Firemane hastily dismantles the call plate at the elevator and examines the wiring. "Brilliant," he says, replacing the plate after altering the wiring slightly. "Going down."

The doors close and the mover plunges rapidly to the one hundredth floor. As the group descends, Firemane explains, "It's programmed to return to one hundred. That's why they propped the doors open.

"I bet they have one programmed to stop at every twentieth floor," Windrider says.

"Why every twenty?" asks WideEyes.

"That's where the transporters are," Windrider states as the group exits the mover and walks into the adjacent transporter room.

WideEyes sets the transporter controls while he speaks, "So they transport between the transporter platforms, then utilize the movers to cover any extra floors. With the movers engineered to be waiting, it is an incredibly efficient application of resources."

"Why not just transport direct to the rooms?" asks WhiteEar.

'Biter answers the communication expert's question snidely, "This is a security building. No transport except to platforms. It controls traffic and prevents terrorist attacks, beaming in bombs, etc."

"So I don't know everything about security procedures," the orange cat shrugs. "No need to bite my head off. Especially when you've got Firemane right here."

The group chuckles at WhiteEar's remark as they take their places on the transporter pads. They solidify moments later on the sixtieth floor and step into the waiting elevator. They sprint to their objective, barging into the room without hesitation. The room is a small classroom with an assortment of desks, chairs, computer terminals, instructional display screens and various other teaching paraphernalia. On one wall is a large nylon map of the Kzinti Empire with various colored lines representing border changes caused by previous wars.

The cats spread out and start searching the room, looking specifically for a security disk. Several minutes pass with no success. WhiteEar slams a desk drawer in disgust, stating irritably, "There's nothing here. It's another dead end."

"Maybe you're right. The disk may not be here. But if it's not, there must be some clue to indicate our next move," Firemane answers.

"Come here," Windrider commands. "I've found something odd."

The others gather around their navigator, who is staring at the map shaking his head. "This is wrong. They've got K'tzelli in sector sixty-three. It should be seventy-three. And Ffaesarrr is not even close to where it's supposed to be."

Firemane interrupts, "Ffaesarrr is listed here in sector one-oh-seven. Do the numbers one-oh-seven and sixty-three sound familiar?"

"Those are the floor numbers of two of our objectives, I believe," deduces WideEyes.

"But we already know the room numbers of all our objectives. This doesn't tell us anything we don't know, moans WhiteEar.

"Maybe it tells us the proper order to proceed. We know the first already and we may know two and three already from the other group's pattern -- sixty-three -- thirty-seven -- one-oh-seven." WideEyes draws a line from sector to sector on the map with his claw as he speaks. As his claw glides across the map he notices a bump in the fabric. "'Biter, take this down," he commands.

'Biter complies and when the map is pulled away from the wall a security code disk is revealed, taped to the wall.  Windrider grabs it, says, "Come on," and sprints out the door, heading for the mover. While they are running, Peppertail comes over the receiver with a report.

"We just grabbed some more points, cats. Your theft of group one's ride slowed them for a bit. Believe it or not, they're using our freight mover now, and have proceeded to floor fifteen. We also had a run-in with a computer tech down here.  He was going to throw us out, but couldn't locate the security guard who was supposed to be on duty," Peppertail purrs. "Highclimber finally offered to give him the latest version of Galactic Conquest, so he let us stay."

The group enters a workout room containing various athletic equipment. They begin their search and 'Biter finds the disk when he notices an improperly assembled mechanical sparring robot. On a hunch, he removes the incorrectly affixed part and discovers the disk.

Moments later, with their second objective in paw, the team is on the way to their third goal. Transporting from the fortieth to the one hundredth floor saves considerable time, and while they ride the mover the remaining seven floors they listen to Peppertail's continuing updates.

"Group one is now on the thirty-first floor moving toward their fifth objective. There are also technicians at work on every mover in the building. Don't know how much longer anyone's going to have a ride."

As they are searching for the next security card in an engineering lab on floor one-oh-seven Firemane asks, "Maybe by splitting up we can speed our progress?"

"We've got to go to each room in sequence. The access cards we've been getting are specific to one lock, so splitting up wouldn't gain us much anyway," 'Biter explains. Besides splitting up is bad security procedure."

Firemane notices an engineering text on a shelf with a long, but misspelled, engineering term in the title. He grabs the book, holds it upside down by its binding and the third security card drops to the floor.

"Blast," he mutters, retrieving the disk.

"What's wrong?" asks Windrider, his yellow ears twitching in consternation. "You found the next disk."

"Yeah, but this confirms my hunch. Disk one we found because of your navigational background. You noticed the map was wrong. Number two we got because 'Biter was familiar with the simuloid and noticed it was messed up. I found this one because the title on that manual was misspelled."

"Which presumably means we will be needing the expertise of Cadets Highclimber and Peppertail, presently," WideEyes finishes.

"Well, we're on one-oh-seven. The tap into the P/A is still here," offers WhiteEar.

"O.k. Fifteen and thirty-one are next. All of you go to fifteen and start looking. I'll go tell the others to meet you there. Give me the receiver. When they meet you, they'll have the transmitter and I can meet you at thirty-one or fifteen if you have any problems," Firemane commands.

'Biter shakes his head, saying, "It's a bad idea to go by yourself."

"We've already used my expertise. You can't find the next room without Windrider, and if you run into some more security guards you're going to be needed. You'll need WhiteEar and WideEyes to find stuff if I don't get back in time. And I've already wired the mover so you can use it. I'm expendable."

'Biter reluctantly agrees, so the four cats head for the main elevators while Firemane goes the other way. He locates the tap into the P/A system. "Attention, Lieutenant Highclimber and Commander Peppertail, please report on group one progress."

"Stand by," comes the response on the receiver. "Group one is heading up again. They didn't stop at forty-four so ninety-five is sixth and forty-four last."

"Lieutenant Highclimber and Commander Peppertail, please report to the fifteenth floor."

The receiver comes to life, "Now? The both of us?" Peppertail asks.

"Repeat. Lieutenant Highclimber and Commander Peppertail, report to the fifteenth floor immediately," Firemane answers over the P/A.

He realizes as he finishes his command that with the lead group one has, his team will probably not catch up. He then leaps to the freight mover control panel only ten meters away and tears into the control circuits. A moment later he hears the soothing hum of the elevator cease and the emergency alarm go off. He is about to head for the rampwell when he notices a box labelled 'mail.'

Opening the box, he sees two slots -- one marked 'out', the other 'in.' There is a small computer screen with a menu of options displayed. He presses <SEND>. A message appears on the screen asking him to enter a destination for the object. He types fifteen. A list of several mail collection chutes on the floor appears with a note to select a specific one. He types in the number of the one closest to the west wing mover queue and transporter station.  He is prompted to insert his post.

He hastily scrawls a message on his class schedule and sends his letter. He then goes and activates the P/A once more. "Commander Peppertail, you have important mail awaiting you at the fifteenth floor transporter room mail reception area."

"Excuse me?" Peppertail responds on the communicator.

"Please report to the fifteenth floor transporter room mail reception area to pick up important message."

"Understood," comes the response on the receiver.

Firemane heads for the ninety-fifth floor, this time using the rampwell. He hurriedly makes his way down the incline, dropping twelve floors in phenomenal time.

Peppertail and Highclimber reach the fifteenth floor and quickly locate the mail chute. The note they discover reads, "On 95. Send Disk from 31 to mail chute 95-R, then follow. Send 'Biter and Windrider direct to mail drop 44-T. FM."

After reading the note, the two set off to consolidate with the others. They use a map Highclimber had the foresight to print out to find their destination. The group is ransacking an administrative office with no success. It takes Peppertail only moments to locate the disk, however, and the six cats are on the move again.

As they ride the mover to the thirty-first floor Peppertail gives a report of their success over the communicator. "We have number four, Firemane. Windrider says the last stop is a med-lab so he took WideEyes and 'Biter to forty-four.

As the update finishes, Firemane hears voices moving down the corridor in his general direction. Turning, he sees a long-haired, grey cat leading six panting cats toward him. "Hi.  Where you headed?" Firemane asks in his most nonchalant voice.

The grey cat stops directly in front of Firemane, looking down slightly at the red-furred student before him. "Why do you want to know?" The unkempt cat asks.

"Do you always answer a question with a question?" Firemane responds. 

"Do you?"  

"Who wants to know?" 

The grey cat ignores the question and starts to wave the group forward, but the pauses and asks, "How did you get here?"

Wanting to delay the group as long as possible, Firemane responds, "I was born on Ffaesarrr. I scored well on my intel and psyche tests, so my ..."

The grey cat suddenly grabs Firemane by the throat, cutting off his speech. "You're the dog who turned off our mover, aren't you?"

Firemane is unable to respond, the grip around his throat cutting off his wind.

"I recognize your voice. You're one of the cats who's been using the P/A to send messages," the grey cat snarls.

As if in response to this statement, Firemane's receiver comes to life. Peppertail's voice announces, "We just got to number five. It's a communication hut, so Highclimber is on his way to meet you. We'll send the key when we find it."

The grey cat whirls, pushing Firemane into the midst of his teammates, saying, "Tie him up."

Firemane struggles momentarily, but six on one is too great an obstacle to overcome. He finds himself bound and gagged, lying face down on the floor in moments.

"Quickly. They're right on our tails now," the grey cat points out as the group runs down the corridor toward their sixth prize.

As the group leaves, Firemane's receiver comes to life again announcing, "We've got it! Headed to forty-four."

A pair of claws grab Firemane and roll him over. Firemane is relieved to see Highclimber. The puzzled computer expert removes the gag.

"Slash the bonds! Quickly!" orders Firemane. "Did you pass another group?" he asks while Highclimber works.

"No, I didn't pass anyone," Highclimber responds.

"Good. There may still be time." Firemane gets up, removing the remnants of his bonds. "Check the mail chute there," he orders.

Highclimber finds a security disk.

"Take it to the room and start looking."

"Which way?"

"Down that corridor and to your right. Third door on the left."

Firemane does not wait for a response. Instead he races toward the mover he knows Highclimber has just used to get here.  He is in full stride when he narrowly avoids running headlong into the grey cat, who is just emerging from a room on Firemane's right.

The grey cat is startled as Firemane flashes by, but only for an instant. Somehow he knows this red cat is off to cause him more grief. "After him!" he shouts, and his team pursues quickly.

Firemane sees the open doors of the mover at the end of the long hallway. Never breaking stride, he focuses his attention on the small metal object keeping the doors propped open. With perfect timing, he leaps toward the waiting car, grabbing the door stop and doing a shoulder roll, which slams him into the back of the mover. He gasps as pain shoots down his right arm to his wrist and he drops the door stop.

Sitting with his back to the wall, Firemane looks up to see seven angry cats racing toward him. Firemane picks the door jamb up with his good left paw and flicks it at the control panel. The projectile hits the button marked one hundred, activating the car. The last thing Firemane sees is the form of the grey cat flying through the air in a desperate leap at the car just as the doors close. He hears a dull thud against the doors.

Rising and rubbing his shoulder gingerly, he says aloud, "I bet that hurt. Actually, I hope that hurt." 

***

"Are you all right, Bristlewind?" a short, brown cat asks the grey one on the floor.

The grey cat rolls over moaning. "I'll live. But that red cat is going to die. He's obviously the one who stole our movers originally!"

"He's going up, sir. Should we follow?"

Bristlewind glances up at the floor designation display.  The number stops at one hundred, only five floors up. "No. We go down. We're still ahead and they're playing catch up. We'll use the transporter on eighty to take us to forty. Then it's only four flights up to victory."

The cats rush to the rampwell and begin a rapid descent. 

***

Upon arrival at floor one hundred, Firemane jambs the mover doors open, then races to the transporter control panel. He gets the cover off quickly and is about to disable the unit when he realizes the grey cat's squad should be here already. "If they didn't come up, then where?" he asks himself. "Down! They're going for the transporter on eighty. How can I stop them now?"

Knowing he cannot rewire a panel twenty floors below, Firemane tries to think of some way to disable their transporter remotely. His ears flick mirthfully as he gets an idea and begins quickly pressing buttons on the transporter console.

"That should slow them down," he says aloud. He gets up and heads for the mover, though he detours long enough to open the rampwell door. He hears the receding voices and footsteps of several cats below, and flicks his ears triumphantly.

***

"Blast!" screams Bristlewind. "That red cat has done it again. We cannot beam out while something is beaming in, and he's sending from one hundred."

"But nothing's materializing."

"He's not sending anything, Tailtwister. He's just sending. Probably disabled the interlocks, so it will keep going until he turns it off or the unit burns out. The transporter is useless to us."

"Let me go take him out," the largest cat in the group offers.

"You'll get your chance 'Stomper, but for now we finish our mission. We'll take the ramps down to forty-four."

"Why not use another mover?" asks one of the cats.

"He was probably the one who cut off our freight mover. If we get back into another one, he might program it to go to sub-basement forty or floor one-ten. I don't want to take that chance. Tailtwister, you stop and sabotage the transporters on sixty and forty, then come back to forty-four. I'll match him ambush for ambush if that's the way he wants it. If we can't benefit from it then neither can they. We've got a long way to go, so let's move."

Bristlewind's team moves quickly through the rampwell door and begin their rapid descent toward their final goal. 

***

On ninety-five, Firemane gets to the computer lab just as Highclimber is exiting the room. Highclimber cheerfully displays the final security disk when he sees Firemane.

Firemane rips it from his claws, turns and dashes to the nearest mail chute. He quickly enters the destination on the console and sends the card to his waiting comrades on forty-four.

"Come on, Highclimber, let's go join our team."

"Right with you, Firemane."

As he and Highclimber make their way to the main movers, the receiver comes to life. "We've got the disk, proceeding to final objective."

When Highclimber and Firemane reach the mover, Firemane explains, "I'm going to make this an express to forty-four. It should only take a minute."

While Firemane works on the controls they receive a much more urgent and disturbing message on the communicator.  "Firemane, Highclimber, come immediately! The last objective requires the physical presence of all team members! Hurry! Time is running out!"

"Hold on," Firemane tells Highclimber as he activates the mover. Highclimber holds on tightly, realizing the mover is plummeting at three times its normal rate. Moments later the car comes to a screeching halt at the forty-fourth floor.

The doors open, revealing a long corridor. To the left of the mover is a reception area, to the right several other movers. A short cat emerges from the rampwell door just at the end of the line of movers, twisting his long blue tail in his claws. Firemane recognizes him as one of the cats who tied him up. "We've got to run for it, 'Climber. Let's go," he commands.

Tailtwister looks up to see two cats sprinting right by him. He notices one is the red cat who has caused them so much trouble. He takes off after them. He cannot catch them, but when he sees them run by the entrance to the room Bristlewind and the rest of his partners are in, he thinks his team has won.

Just as Tailtwister reaches his door, Firemane and Highclimber stop two doors down. Tailtwister walks into his room, but before he can say anything 'Stomper grabs him, carries him twenty meters to a large console and places his right claw on a glow plate.

The lights start flashing and a siren goes off. Bristlewind roars in victory with his teammates.

Two doors down the scene is identical as Firemane and his team roar in celebration. 

***

"A tie?!" Firemane and Bristlewind say in unison.

"Yes, a tie," the Dean of the Institute answers, motioning for the two to retake their seats. He marvels at the appearance of the pair, trying to imagine the fight that left the cats in such poor shape. Both have large patches of hair missing, revealing long, presumably painful, scars on their limbs.  Bristlewind's face is in horrible shape, one eye swollen half shut and his bottom lip obviously swollen. Firemane's face is in better shape, though the Dean notices a chipped tooth when the red cat speaks.

"It is the first time in the history of The Institute we've had a tie," the Dean continues. "Frankly, we did not believe it possible. However, the fact remains your two groups activated the claw sensors at precisely the same instant. However, the total points scored were not even. Bristlewind, your team has been declared the official winner."

Bristlewind flicks his tail in triumph, though he moans at the effort, while Firemane rises, wincing, in protest. "Why them? Did we not obtain an objective, sir?"

"Calm down, cadet. You both collected all the objectives. However, points are deducted for destruction of Institute property. Between your two teams, more havoc was raised with the standard operation of this building than in any previous two years combined. Let's see, here's the list," the Dean says picking up a sheet of paper on his cluttered desk.

"1) Rewiring of main elevators to local status, homing to  transporter stations.

2) Rewiring of freight mover to avoid loading area, and  the subsequent disabling of said mover altogether. 

3) Illegal entry into computer system. Cadet . . . Highclimber, I believe, managed to hack so far into the security subsystem, he disrupted the surveliience net for most of the Institute. It will be weeks to get the net back to one hundred percent.

4) Attacking a security guard. (Firemane purrs quietly at  this statement. The Dean glares him into silence.) 

5) Disruption of the building Public Address system. 

6) Disruption of transporter service and the subsequent overload of transporter equipment."

"In addition, there is the miscellaneous equipment damaged during the brawl you had after the test was over."

Firemane's tail sags in defeat.

"However, because your team did successfully complete the assignment your names will appear alongside Bristlewind's team on the status chart."

Firemane brightens while Bristlewind growls softly in disgust. 

"Now, for the news I'm sure you've been waiting for -- your rewards. Because of your outstanding performance in today's test, both of your teams will not be required to attend classes for the next two days. Instead, you will spend your time repairing every damaged system in this building, including any damage done by the other teams that did not finish the test. You will be expected to make up any work missed in your classes during this assignment."

"But, sir . . . "

"You will be personally monitored by the building's maintenance crew, since the survellience net is down, and will report to room 7-M-14, tomorrow at 0700. Oh, one last thing. Your room assignments have been changed. You can pick up all the information regarding the changes in your schedules and room assignments at the Information Office on the seventeenth floor. Dismissed."

The Dean nods at the door and the two cadets rise and leave. Each goes to meet with his team to inform them of the outcome of the meeting with the Dean.

***

Firemane begins by asking, once again, why the others elected him to represent the group. Peppertail responds, "Actually, they elected me initially, but I declined.  Highclimber and I weren't involved in a lot of the action. Also, it was your discovery of the mail system that let us catch up."

"Besides," interrupts WideEyes, "after the fight with Bristlewind's team you were in the worst shape. We thought we might get some sympathy from the Dean."

Firemane chuckles at this and then gives a condensed version of the meeting to his team.

"Our 'reward' for winning is we have to fix all the damage in the building AND make up work in the classes we miss?!?" 'Biter roars in disbelief.

Firemane shrugs. "I don't understand it either. But it does give us all a jump up on most of the competition for top cadet."

The rest of the group nod in agreement.

"I'll meet you all for last meal," Firemane promises before heading to the Information Office.

After getting his revised schedule and picking up his few personal effects from the baggage depository on the ground floor, he finds the quarters he will be assigned to for the upcoming year. He is surprised to find the room empty. He had expected his roommate to have arrived already, figuring himself to be among the last to move in due to the meeting with the Dean. He quickly stows his gear on the left side of the room and claims the loft and the left side of the room for himself. Moments later the door opens and a familiar figure enters.

The two cats stare at each other in disbelief.

"This has got to be a mistake," says Bristlewind.

"With that I must agree," Firemane responds.

"There is no mistake," a third voice announces from the corridor.

Firemane and Bristlewind turn to find the Dean standing just outside the door, smiling. "You will be rooming together for the coming year. Assuming, of course, that you both continue to perform at acceptable levels. You both have a remarkable desire to win. It is my hope that by placing you together, your competitive juices will make you push each other to new highs in achievement. It has been our experience that direct competition brings out the best in our cadets. I expect great things from the two of you. That is, if you don't kill each other first.  Carry on."

The two dumbfounded cadets turn to gaze at each other in disbelief as the Dean departs, purring merrily. The Dean hears the voices of the young cats rise in argument as he walks calmly down the hall toward the nearest mover. The decibel level continues to rise as he waits for the only still functioning mover to arrive. When the doors open and he steps in, he can hear the distinct sounds of a knock down, drag out fight. "Security to forty-three. Fight in progress," the Dean says over his wrist com-link. He purrs in laughter as the doors to the mover close. 

***