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doors, past the receptionist, past the pair of company marines, then up to the security door. I put my hands on the scan plates and after the blast door opened I walked into the man trap.
    After the door closed behind me I put my eyes up to the retinal scanner. A brief 'confirmed' from the computer and the second blast door opened. Anyone getting this far who didn't belong would have heard 'Good Luck' and the door would have waited twenty seconds before opening. During those twenty seconds those who were inside would have heard an announcement about the unauthorized visitor. It didn't happen often, but it did break up the monotony.
    I looked at the 'Welcome Home!' sign that some joker had put up years ago. Brand I think, he was dead now anyway. Got caught trying to hit some corporate V.P. somewhere, still managed to get his target, but vaporized himself in the process. The resulting explosion took out three large buildings and a church however. Brand had always been a showoff.
    As I walked down the hall towards my quarters I ignored those I passed in the halls. They were all newbs and I refused to acknowledge anybody here less than two years. Half would probably be dead by then so why bother? I hated losing friends anyway.
    I opened the door to my rooms and went in. A careful search didn't turn up anything. I could tell a lot of people had been through in my absence, boredom makes everyone nosey. I didn't own anything anyway, everything in my room was standard issue, right down to the pictures on the walls. Possessions are both a key to your personality and a burden to carry. I couldn't afford either of those liabilities.
    After satisfying myself that it was safe, I shut off the lights and went to sleep.
    The Palace, ('Caesar's Palace' they originally called it because we all 'lived like emperors' there), isn't that really. It's more of a jail to those of us inside, a fortress to those outside, and a very well hidden company secret deep underground on the Earth's moon. It's where the Corporation keeps all of its most dangerous eggs, so it's a strong basket. As for those of us inside, well would you want thirty some-odd trained and ruthless assassins running around loose?
    I didn't think so.
    They supplied us with everything we wanted, more or less. But we never left, except to kill somebody. So volunteers for missions were never in short supply. We all hated it here and lived for the opportunity to get out.
    I didn't leave my room for the next three days, not until I was totally healed. We had our own rules here, and as I was the oldest one alive, I now set them. Weakness was not a good sign.
    I went down to the mess and ordered some food. I was pretty starved after my isolation, so I ate ravenously.
    "I hear you got skinned!" Snickered one of the new guys sitting down across from me. He was a Leopard like myself. He had black fur, with a slightly squared head and a good build.
    "I got bored," I growled. "Have you read the rules on my door?" I asked conversationally.
    "Yes, why?" He asked curiously.
    "Good, then you can't plead ignorance."
    I threw my coffee in his face and jumped him. He was stronger than me, and almost as quick. But I had a lot more experience. I broke both his arms and a leg and left him lying on the floor. The medics would get to him soon enough.
    "Why did you do that?" He growled in pain.
    I just finished my food and left without answering.
    "Rule one," I heard someone else say as I left the room.
    Rule one wasn't originally mine, I inherited it with the position. Rule one was simple: 'If you haven't been here two years, don't talk to me. You don't exist.' When I had first come here years ago I had found it stupid. Now I enforced it. Hell, I even agreed with it. Strange how we change as we age. Maybe it was just this place?
    I went down to the gym then and exercised. Next I read a book, ate dinner, exercised some more, then slept. The next day repeat, and the next, ad infinitum. There were only three