Badges...retinal scans...finger prints...key codes...they're all just a dynamic ploy devised by the government to strip us of our privacy, or worse yet, our very humanity. With one scan of the iris, a person's fate may be transferred into the hands of complete strangers--people who will stop at nothing to make sure that their best interests are met. With the press of a computer key, the future, and in fact, even the past and present are at their fingertips. They can erase birth information, create false records, and completely delete all evidence that you ever even existed. And they can find out anything. They know about that candy bar you shoplifted when you were ten. They know about the embarrassing job you had as a topless waitress back in your college days. About how you once tried smoking pot in high school. Suddenly, your entire life is an open book, and you will find that you are completely helpless to prevent it.

Do I sound paranoid? Well, perhaps I am. If you were in my shoes, maybe then you'd understand. I was safe once, like you, but now my life has been completely turned upside down. I know things I'd rather not--things that would doubtless shock and appall you. I had no idea what I was getting myself into when I first found out their secret. You may think that someone in my line of work would get used to the tyranny and unspeakable acts of cruelty and torture that I witnessed, eventually. I however, could never become desensitized to all that went on within those secured walls. And I am sure that I will never forget my experience as long as I live. Even now, I'm on the run, fearful for my life. But, I can see I've gotten way ahead of myself.

My name is Holly Grant. I'm a research assistant (at least I used to be) at a local animal testing laboratory, which shall remain nameless for now, seeing as my life is already in great danger. How someone like me came into a job like that is really quite ironic. I'm an animal lover, and I've dedicated my entire life to their happiness. I hope to someday make the world a better place for them. So why then did I choose a career in a testing laboratory of all places? Well, you see, this was just a stepping stone for me. My ultimate plan was to gradually rise higher and higher on the corporate ladder until I could see to it that changes were made. I was sure that with a little determination, I could stop the useless mauling of innocent animals, and find better and more productive ways in which to incorporate research technology. Besides, I'd always been taught that the government was for, not against the protection of animal rights, so I figured the situation at a federally funded lab couldn't get too out of hand. It seemed like a perfect opportunity to study the animals, to get to know their habitats, and their customs and ways of life. Add to that my secret promise that if I ever came across an animal that was being abused, I'd do my darndest to set them free, and if need be, I would expose such a laboratory to get it shut down for good. That's where all of my troubles began.

Monday morning, three months ago (and incidentally, four days after my thirty-sixth birthday) began as any other. I made it to work just in the nick of time after oversleeping for twenty minutes (I am not a morning person), said hello to the security guard at the front desk, swiped my ID card to gain access, pushed through the turnstile, and headed to my office. I knew my boss, Jim Wong, would already be waiting for me. We'd been working on a secret project for weeks, and it was now nearing its completion. He said he wanted to get as much of the paperwork completed in the next couple of days as possible.

I hadn't quite been able to figure out the exact scope of the experiments. I'd heard that the testing was important and that a new breakthrough had been made that could change the course of science forever, whatever that meant. The rest of it was just numbers and acronyms that seemed to spell out some sort of secret code. I couldn't decipher most of the symbols. And at the speed in which the paperwork was moving, I didn't get much chance for deliberation. That's the drawback to being an assistant. The higher-ups have all the fun while you're left to do their dirty work.

Still, I was in a good mood that morning as I settled into my chair and got started. Finally, after all the long hours of reading and typing, the project was nearing its completion, and I had played a major role in its success. My hopes were high that they'd let me join their efforts, seeing as I put so much work into it already.

The stack of papers on my desk was thick, but I was rejoicing because I knew it was the last document I would have to type. In just a few more hours, all of the paper pushing would be behind me. Then I would hopefully be introduced to the magnificent specimen everyone seemed so eager about. I flipped casually through the pages. They were just like all of the others I'd seen. I had spent many an hour contemplating the meaning of all of the numbers and letters. Even now, as I gazed over them one last time, my eyes kept reverting back to the same two acronyms--HAHTF and CHIM-9. For some reason I still can't quite explain, I felt as though I should know what these abbreviations meant. It was a very strange sensation of deja vu. The far right column held something I hadn't previously discovered. There were percentages there, ranging from 22 to 95%, and they reflected results from tests that I had never heard of before. Strength: 52%...Intelligence: 94%. What did those numbers mean? And what was this business about an abnormally high I.Q? What kind of animal was this anyway?

Caught up in curiosity, I ignored my typing duties for the moment, and flipped through the rest of the pages. My interest continued to grow with each turn of the page. The very last sheet of paper is what really grabbed my attention. It was titled Nezumi--a simple word, but I had no idea what it meant. Below that were several more columns with acronyms and numbers. They appeared to be vital signs, varying from very poor to extremely good. I was flooded with ideas about what type of animal this might be, and where it had come from. As my mind was carried away with images of aliens and prehistoric monsters, a voice suddenly jarred me back to reality.

"Have you finished that report already?"

I jumped. I couldn't help it. I'd been caught in the act of intrusive meddling. I hate when that happens.

"Uhhh..." I stammered. "Almost. I was just--"

"Well, get to work then. I'll need that by ten o'clock." His face wasn't unkind, but there was a hint of agitation in his voice.

I glanced up at the clock. Almost nine-thirty. Great. I'd wasted a whole hour and a half.

Time flies when you're doing something you're not supposed to--if you're having fun with it at least. I can honestly say, that in the moments that followed, I was wallowing in excitement. I had been working in the lab for close to six months. I had monitored many animals, done feedings and the like, but I hadn't gotten a chance to really participate in something major. I felt that this might be my big break. So many questions filled my head all at once, I could hardly contain them. I'd asked Mr. Wong when the experiments were scheduled to begin. He'd answered me rather shortly that they were already underway and had been for a couple of weeks. It seemed odd to me that they would be able to proceed without processing all of the paperwork. Had they received permission in advance? I asked what the experiments pertained to, and exactly what they would be doing to the animal. That big blue vein popped out in his forehead like it always did when he was angry, and he basically told me that it was privileged information and none of my concern. Great. Some scientist you are, Jim Wong. Can't even let your colleagues in on the interesting stuff. In any case, I decided that it would be best to keep my mouth shut for now. But as I thought about those symbols some more, and the aloofness I was met with whenever I showed an interest, a weird feeling crept into me. Maybe they didn't have permission for this. But what could be so horrible that their request wouldn't be granted? Maybe they were conducting cruel tests or mutilating the poor animal. Whatever they were up to, it was the first time since I'd joined the lab that I started to feel nervous.

He refused to tell me what Nezumi meant, or what any of the acronyms stood for, which didn't boost my confidence any. I took all of it as a bad sign. If I was never to learn about these things, how could I hope to advance? And worse yet was the nagging feeling of impending doom that continued to crawl up my spine.

After my intense questioning, Jim sent me away on an errand. I think he wanted to get rid of me in hopes that I would forget about the whole matter. Little did he realize that this is one determined redhead. I rarely give up without a fight.

My destination was the second floor. My mission was to deliver a sealed envelope to the person at the desk in room 124 and retrieve a document in exchange. I had never been upstairs, or even very far from my own sector, so I decided to make it an adventure and seize the opportunity to explore a little. Who knew? Maybe I'd even learn something.

I took the elevator to the second floor. An eerie feeling passed over me as I stepped out into the hallway. It was darker up there. A giant shadow hung over the entire area, giving it a feeling of seriousness and dread. I couldn't help but feel self-conscious as I made my way down the hall. I tried to divert my attention from the uneasiness around me, by dwelling on the unfamiliar symbols and letters from the experiments. What was a HAHTF anyway? And what did SAM stand for? Did CHIM-9 refer to a chimpanzee? It seemed unlikely. I hadn't seen anything remotely resembling a monkey anywhere in the building. Of course, like I said, I hadn't seen much of the building itself yet. And if not a chimp, then what could it be?

There were so many unanswered questions, and I was so intent on finding the answers, that before I knew it, I discovered that I had meandered completely off course. It isn't hard to lose your way in a building like the one I worked in. Many of my fellow employees joked that we were in fact the ones being experimented on--that we'd been placed in a giant twisting maze of hallways and rooms, and someone was watching us to see if we'd find our way out. From where I stood at that moment, their musings seemed quite accurate. I found myself in a strange corridor, dimly lit. Numerous hallways branched off in several directions. The lack of proper lighting caused the walls to take on a filmy gray appearance, matching the carpet so perfectly, the two almost blended together, making it difficult to tell where the walls ended and the floor began. It seemed like something right out of a science fiction movie. It was an eerie sensation, standing there alone and directionless. I shook myself, trying to focus on my errand. One of these halls had to lead to Sector A, but which one? I surveyed my surroundings, but I couldn't tell which passage I'd come from. Each of the paths looked exactly the same.

Sighing, I began a feeble attempt at eenie-meenie-minee-mo, and was about to choose the hallway that continued on directly in front of me, when I caught a brief flash of something in the corner of my eye. I turned my head and stared down the hallway to my right. The darkened walls were glowing with a faint red light. It added some color to the otherwise drab interior. A moment later, the illumination vanished, bathing me in darkness once again. My confusion quickly disappeared though when the glow returned only a few seconds later.

I knew now which path I would take. There was no question. My instincts had already told me which course would be most interesting. And for all I knew, Sector A might have been right down that corridor. Of course, it wasn't. And if I hadn't let the call of curiosity rule, my life would be much simpler now. Of course, I would have passed up an opportunity that only comes once, if even that, in a lifetime. I know that what I did was right. I just wish that some things hadn't turned out the way they did.

In case you haven't yet realized from my jumbled ramblings, I think I should inform you that I'm not one who gives up easily. I am way too curious for my own good, very determined, adventurous, and, at times, pig-headed. I will not accept defeat. In fact, that word isn't even in my vocabulary. I like to blame my stubbornness on the fiery red hair, but in all honesty, I think I owe my personality traits to my upbringing. My mother has always encouraged me to speak my mind. She said that when a woman knows what she wants, it makes her strong. I tend to agree with her. Even my father who had a strict upbringing, and was very set in the old ways of thinking, seemed to enjoy a good debate. Of course, I won more of our arguments than I lost, and I relished every minute of it. That's what I liked most about my dad--he was always a good sport. He knew when he was defeated, and on those glorious occasions, he always took me out for ice cream as my 'reward' for being such a smartass. It's been two years since his death, and I really miss him. Thankfully my mother is still alive, though I don't get to see her often. She lives in Michigan with my Aunt Rose and her fifteen cats.

If I had been raised with anything less than the courage and boldness of a lion, I might have turned back when I saw what was waiting at the end of that hall. Instead, I embraced my newfound discovery with an eagerness even I didn't know I had. I discovered the source of the flashing easily. It came from a red lightbulb that was mounted high on the wall beneath a glass casing. I knew what flashing red lights indicated, even though, up until now, I hadn't had the chance to witness it. This area was restricted. It was quite a coincidence that I'd just so happened to stumble upon it. Or perhaps, as a very good friend of mine keeps trying to convince me, it was destiny.

Directly below the light was a set of enormous double-doors. It looked like your average foreboding entrance, except for the rather large red TOP SECRET that was painted across it. A push bar, that spanned the width of the left door, blocked all entrance. A panel on the wall to the left of the doors contained a number pad and a slot that was designed for sliding an identification badge. I briefly considered experimenting with my own, but thought the better of it.

My site traveled from the left door to the right. There were no windows and no doorknobs. There was no way that an outsider could even begin to fathom what was on the other side. To the right of the entrance, a plaque hung on the wall. I glanced behind me to make sure no one was around. The halls were still eerily empty, and for the first time since I found this place, I was glad for that. I knew that just being in the area could cost me my job. Still, something inexplicable held me there.

I hurried past the doors to stare at the sign. It was roughly eleven by fourteen inches, and made of a thin metal. Numbers and acronyms, much like those on the paperwork I'd processed, where etched into the surface, but what really grabbed my attention were the large letters that spelled out Human-Animal Hybrid Testing Facility across the top.

"H-A-H-T-F..." It only took a matter of seconds to make the connection.

The little hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. Something inexplicable happened to me in that instant. I had no idea what was going on behind those doors, but I had no doubt that it was directly involved with the project I had been working so diligently on for the past few weeks. I made a decision right then and there, and I knew it was one I couldn't back out of.

If I had been smart, I would have left that place and never looked back. You can call me 'Stupid'. I wasn't sure yet exactly how, but some way, I would gain entrance to that room and find out what was really going on around there. Of that, I was certain.

I took one long glance back, and hurried down the hallway. My boss would start wondering where I was soon, and I still hadn't delivered that envelope. I focused on the route back, making careful mental notes of each step I took. I had a pretty good memory, and could only hope that it wouldn't fail me when I needed it most. Walk down to the maze of halls, and make a...left. That other hallway on the right must lead back to the elevator. I can regroup from there... I felt it before I saw it--a massive object hit me like a freight train. Caught off guard, there was no chance of retaining my balance. I fell flat on my butt.

"Oh--Holly. Sorry, I...what are you doing here?"

I gazed up at the figure and was met with shaggy brown hair, the beginnings of a well-earned beer gut, and a contemptible grin. Curtis. He offered me his hand, but I refused it begrudgingly. Instead, I glared up at him as evilly and menacingly as possible, and helped myself to my feet.

Ever since that day we first met in the cafeteria, he'd been pestering me to go out with him. I accepted once, but I'm not one to make the same mistake twice. Curtis had proved himself to be a complete and utter idiot. He was rude, and obnoxious, and he'd tried to force his tongue down my throat for pete's sake! At least I'd had the smarts to excuse myself to the bathroom and call for a cab. Rather to my dismay though, he didn't seem to be able to take a hint. He was constantly oogling at me whenever we passed in the halls, and at times, he'd even cast a lewd comment in my direction.

A wave of terror washed over me, and I nervously cleared my throat. I wasn't quite sure why this meeting made me so wary. It wasn't like he would force himself on me at work. Even he wasn't that stupid. Besides, everyone that knew me well had bestowed upon me the honored title of 'Best Crotch Kicker In the Entire State of New York', so if he thought he could get away with it again, he had another thing coming. No, this uneasiness stemmed much deeper. It was the fear of being caught. And it didn't help matters that his badge was stamped with an all too familiar acronym. If you guessed HAHTF, give yourself a pat on the back.

"Coming to see me?" He grinned hopefully. I rolled my eyes. God, what a sleaze!

"No." My voice was stern. "I'm on my way to pick up a document for my boss. Now if you would please--"

"How about dinner? My place. Saturday night." He appeared totally oblivious to two major facts before him. Fact number one--I was in a restricted area that I wasn't cleared to be in, and number two--I had absolutely no interest in being near him. Even seeing his face made me want to wretch.

"I don't think--"

"I'll be waiting." The grin widened. How I would have LOVED to slap that stupid smile off his face.

Instead, I restrained my temper and mumbled a non-committal "I gotta go" and pushed past him.

Ahh...freetime at last. I balanced the grocery bags on my knee and kicked the door open with my foot. A waft of warm, delicious air greeted me. It smelled like vanilla and warm peaches from the dessert I'd made the night before. It had been a long day. I can't begin to tell you how good it felt to be home. I sauntered over to the kitchen counter and set down the bags.

"Buster!" I called out. "I'm home!"

The sound of a rattling chain came near, and before I could say 'down', two big Golden Retriever paws hit my stomach, knocking me backwards. I barely managed to escape a repeat of my encounter with Curtis earlier that day. Buster barked and wagged his tail in greeting, totally oblivious to the fact that he'd nearly sent me to the floor. I scratched him lovingly behind the ears.

"I'm happy to see you too, boy. Were you good today? I brought you a treat."

At the word 'treat', the tail shifted from first to fifth gear, and a puddle of drool began to form on his tongue. Interesting how easy it is to please a dog. If only men were so easily impressed. I'd probably be married with three kids by now. It's not that I don't have what it takes to make a man happy, and I'm not unattractive. In fact, there's a certain charm about me that men seem to be drawn to. The problem is, I'm a career woman (or I was up until three months ago). There was little time in my life for real commitment. It isn't as if I didn't try dating. It just seemed that the only eligible bachelors in this city are gay. The others are dirty, demented creeps. Either that, or married. Come to think of it, the married ones fit into the 'creep' category quite nicely.

I surveyed myself in the full-length mirror. I stood there for a long time, studying the features that I consider my attention grabbing attributes. I'm not remarkably tall or short. I am an almost average five-foot seven, thin frame--not wimpy or anorexic looking, but fit and trim. My curly red hair extends just below my ears, and my eyes (perhaps my best feature) are a pale, sparkling blue. I have an interesting smile--one that spells out mischief, no matter how hard I try to look innocent.

I told myself that sometime soon I would find the time for a social life. And I would stay away from sleazy bars and pick-up joints. I wanted a meaningful relationship--one that could possibly last for the rest of my life. Tell me truly--is that too much to ask?

I ate dinner mindlessly, my thoughts on other things. I couldn't help but feel lonely at times. Being thirty-six and single was a bit depressing. My only comfort was in the fact that I had no one around to tell me what to do. I could be my own person, live my own life, enjoy my career. But did it really fulfil me? I liked working with the animals, but the truth was, I'd already seen enough to turn my stomach. Rabbits on respirators, tormenting lizards, forcing rodents to run confusing mazes, and zapping creatures with electronic devices wasn't my idea of making the world a better place for them.

There was so much equipment housed in that building, some of which I couldn't even begin to understand. Whenever I tried, I kept returning to that darkened hallway, the flashing light, those giant sealed doors. I got so anxious thinking about it, I had to set my roast chicken aside. I was unable to eat. What was going on in there? How could I sneak in without anyone knowing? I had a Secret clearance, but that wouldn't allow me access to the Top Secret information contained in that room.

Slowly, an idea came to me--one that I knew would get me into major trouble if I was caught. Still, with a determined grin, and a newfound purpose, I grabbed some paper and mapped out a plan. My career, possibly even my life was riding on this, but I knew that I wouldn't be able to eat or sleep until I found the answers I sought.

The next morning, I drove into work totally exhausted. I'd stayed up half the night conjuring up my devious scheme. I knew I would only get one chance at this, and I wanted to make sure I did everything right.

I didn't ask Mr. Wong any more questions, which he seemed thankful for. Instead, I pretended that I'd already forgotten about the whole situation. That was the advantage to having a strictly business relationship with the boss. We weren't close enough for him to understand that someone like me rarely forgets about anything that easily. He seemed content in the knowledge that I'd decided not to press the issue, and business continued as usual.

The day passed in the normal manner--paperwork in the morning, feeding and rounds at mid-day. The afternoons were my favorite. It gave me a chance to visit with the animals, and it made me feel as thought I was making some kind of difference in their lives. Clad in rubber gloves and sterile coats, Jim and I traveled from room to room supplying the animals with their daily rations. It wasn't all fun and games though. We also had to weigh each one, measure them, and check their vital signs. Despite some rather gruesome experiments I was forced to witness, I enjoyed myself tremendously. Mr. Wong was always telling me I'm too soft. I shouldn't get so attached to them. What does he know anyway?

We made our way to the last lab of our rounds--the Rehabilitation Center. We always spent the longest time there. Those animals were special. All of the occupants were either sick or injured, and it was our job to nurse them back to health, making note of our progress along the way. That is what I really took the job for. It gave me complete and utter satisfaction to know that I made a difference, however small.

Jim took off his coat and laid it over the back of a chair--ritualistic of our last stop of the day. He said the long sleeves only got in his way, and since there were no experiments being performed, we didn't need to worry about shielding ourselves from chemicals or other hazardous materials behind the bulky white coats.

I stared at the jacket longingly. I had been hoping for this opportunity all morning. As I fed and cared for the animals, I kept one eye continually on him. He seemed preoccupied with a group of babies. We called them 'The Three Blind Mice'. They'd been born blind like most rodents, only their sight had not yet developed. We had been monitoring their progress for some time, but as of yet, we'd seen no evidence that they could see anything at all. Tests were currently in the beginning stages to fix their eyes so they would work properly. Until then, they would remain in this care unit where they would be safe from the threat of needle or electric shock. I secretly hoped that they would never receive their sight. Wasn't it better to be blind and well taken care of than to have to undergo torture? 'The Three Blind Mice' were a favorite of mine, as well as of Mr. Wong. He seemed to only have a space so big in his heart for living creatures, and these three filled it completely.

I watched him nervously as he opened a vial and filled it with food. I knew that I must make my move soon or the opportunity would pass me by. He wouldn't be busy for long. Jim was pretty efficient with his time. His back was to me. It was the perfect chance to make my move. Quietly and cautiously, I stepped toward the chair. Just a little further... He began to turn. I froze. He glanced up at the clock, flashed me a quick smile, and then turned his attention back to the mice. I exhaled.

I was almost there. Just a few more steps and then...

I rested my hand on the back of the chair and slowly ran my hand down the length of the coat, feeling for the pocket. My eyes were on him the entire time. My fingers found the ID badge, and I carefully pinched the metal clasp to remove it, and stuffed it in my pants pocket.

Quitting time...I thought the day would never end. Although I was anxious to put my plan in motion, I was purposely stalling. I moved in slow motion, cleaning off my desk and gathering up my jacket and purse. I glanced up at the clock. It was five twelve. I'd managed to procrastinate for twelve whole minutes. I'd heard that most of the upstairs labs close right at five o'clock sharp. I could only hope that the HAHTF staff was anxious to get home. Having no idea when they usually left, I would be taking a great risk. I was practically itching to get out of the office. So far, my boss hadn't seemed to notice that his badge was missing, and I'd be damned if I was going to stick around for that realization. Not wanting to arouse his suspicions, I shouted a goodbye and hurried down the hall toward the entrance. I made a point to say farewell to the security guard, and left the building. But I didn't go home. Instead, I began phase two of my scheme. I was nervous, but I did my best to look inconspicuous as I walked around to the side of the building. There was a door there that was seldom used, but allowed entrance to the west corridor. There was an elevator just down that hallway, and if my memory served correctly, once I was off at the second floor, I needed only make a right, walk down a long hallway, take a quick left at the drinking fountain, and before long I would be in the maze of hallways.