"Friend Computer has a thousand eyes, so Treason...is 
something to despise..."  It was a pleasant nightcycle in MTA 
sector.  Citizen Y-MCA-1 was crowded into an Infrared's Own 
Educational Video Center along with nearly six hundred other 
infrareds (among which were his five clone brothers).  It was 
the size of a small inner city movie theatre, quite cramped 
with a bank of TV screens at the far end.  Each showed a 
different view of tonightcycle's 'The Computer Appreciation 
and Obedience Hour'.  

	Tonight, host Ja-Y-LNO-3 was joined by famed singer Priss-Y-ASA-3.  She was singing her hit song, 'Friend Computer has a Thousand Eyes', a warning against committing treason, for Friend Computer sees everything.  Many citizens glanced over at the cameras in the corner of the room, and some, like Y-MCA-1, waved at the cameras.  Only those who committed treason had reason to fear Friend Computer, who had created Bubblegum Complex to save a portion of humanity from the Great Oops.  It remained unclear as to what had caused the Great Oops.  Everyone knew the Communists were to blame, but since no one in the room was cleared to know anything about Pre-Oops society, they had no idea exactly what the 
Communists had done.  Something Communistic, no doubt, inspired by the writings of their founder, Groucho Marx.

	Communists were the great enemies of Bubblegum 
Complex.  It was Commies who sent the combat bots rampaging 
through the corridors every week.  It was Commies who 
interrupted last week's Teela-O-MLY Show with broadcasts of 
Communist propaganda like "The High Programmers treat you 
like sheep" and "Workers of the world, untie".  Untie what?  
Commies just didn't make sense if you were a good Infrared.  

	And Y-MCAs 1-6 were good Infrareds.  They got up in the 
morning, went to work at Tech Services, moved heavy things, ate their meals on time, and then came home for some nice medication and three hours of solid video entertainment.  First the Teela-O-MLY show, then this.  Sure, Y-MCA was in a treasonous secret society, the Romantics, but they never hurt anyone by just talking about the gold old days.  Sure Y-MCA-1 had a treasonous 'beanie baby' in his pocket which could get him executed on sight, but why had Friend Computer given them all utility belts with nice little compartments if they weren't supposed to be used?  Sure, he was a mutant and hadn't registered his mutation, but since he couldn't rely on his ability to see through things, he didn't really count it as a mutation.  It was so irregular.

	Naturally, it chose now, right as Priss-Y was in the 
middle of another song, 'Vulture Squadron Tonightcycle', to 
suddenly kick in.  Which wasn't a bad thing, since what it 
showed him was a cone rifle-toting Combot.  It was trundling 
through his dormitory, which was on the other side of the wall, 
and raising its arm to make its own door right through the bank 
of vidscreens.  

	He had to do something.  But how could he let people know 
without giving away that he was a commie mutant?  Salvation 
came in the form of Iam-DOA-3, an Infrared who had left 
earlier to go to a vending machine and get a snack.  He walked 
in, crunching on some red wafers from a Crunchityme Algae 
Chips bag.  Iam-DOA was only an Infrared, the lowest of the 
low, so he wasn't qualified to eat anything of red clearance.  
Y-MCA stood up and shouted, "A COMMIE!!!!  He's violating 
his security clearance!"

	The mob turned its collective heads and Iam-DOA began to 
feebly wave his arms.  "The machine was out of Infrared 
clearance chips!"  They didn't care.  Bagging a traitor was the 
best way to rise to Red clearance and finally get out of the 
living hell that was their lives.  As one, they surged to their 
feet and charged.

	Iam-DOA-3 was no fool.  He turned and ran for his life.  
The doorway saved his life.  Infrareds weren't cleared to have 
doors, but their rooms did have doorways, which were quite 
effective at slowing down mobs of 600 people when said 
doorways were only wide enough for one person at a time.  

	*BOOM*  The vidscreens exploded outward, cutting off 
Priss-Y and Ja-Y.  It was a rerun, anyway.  The combot Mark 55-
C stood in the doorway, laughing maniacally.  "I love the 
chemicals released into the atmosphere where my olfactory 
sensors may detect them in the morningcycle!  It has a 
chemical composition similar in nature to that of a 
satisfactory conclusion to combat!"

	A voice spoke from one of the currently unused entrances 
to the Center.  "I find blowing your head off to be a lot more 
satisfactory!"  Three slugthrower shells erupted across the 
Center into the combot's chest, drawing its attention.  A woman 
in a blue battlesuit stood there with dramatic backlighting.  
The right end of her suit ended in a tube that looked vaguely 
like a slug thrower barrel, while the left arm had a mechanical 
hand.  "I HATE BOTS!" she shouted, opening fire with a hail of 
explosive slugs.  What was left of the wall of vidscreens was 
blown to tiny bits.  Too bad none of them actually HIT the 
combot.

	It raised its arm.  "You are in violation of code #456783-XYZ-PDQ-ASP-34.345.  Strip naked and do the Watusi.  You have fifteen seconds to comply."

	It didn't finish its countdown.  A violet and pink suit of armor appeared, carrying a gauss gun.  One zap and the combot 
started reciting the entire Bubblegum Municipal Code, starting 
with #1A.  Then the green and white armored warriors moved 
in.  Twin molofilament whips and an Ultraviolet laser sword 
turned the combot into spare parts.  

	The Ultraviolet (In Bubblegum complex, the color 
'ultraviolet' is symbolized with White, since human eyes can't 
SEE ultraviolet.  Unless of course, you're a Commie Mutant.  
Please report to the Termination Center if that applies), who Y-
MCA-2 guessed was a High Programmer (one of the leaders of 
Bubblegum Complex), said, "Sabre-Blue, you can stop shooting 
now."  The Blue Sabre was still shooting up the walls, which 
were now more holy than a FCCP service.  

	"The damn thing is stuck!"  She turned and opened five new 
door ways into Dorm #324.  

	"It only holds 12 rounds.  You should have run out by now."  Sabre-Ultraviolet said. 

	The gun suddenly stopped.  Sabre-Violet burned something 
into the floor by the deceased combot, then the four blew a hole 
in the ceiling and departed.  Y-MCA-5, the most curious of his 
clone family, went over to take a look.  The message said simply, 'Trouble Sabres'.  He found it reassuring that high clearance people made spelling mistakes sometimes, too.  He took his knife and carefully scratched out 'Sabres', respelling it 'Shooters'.  They had to be Troubleshooters, he thought.  I'm very happy Friend Computer thinks so highly of us to send such high clearance personel to take care of us.  Let's leave him in the heart-warming glow of his delusions and move on.

**************

Bubblegum Complex
The Story of the Trouble Sabres.  
#1

"The Clone Creche #35 Caper"

A Paranoia/BGC fusion.

By John Biles

***********

	In MTA sector of Bubblegum Complex, there is a building 
known as Dorm #633.  Before the great Oops, it would have been 
known as a high-rise apartment building.  The clones who dwelt 
in it simply called it home, although it's nickname was the 
'Ladysm-I-THH' building, after its architect, Ladysm-I-THH-3.  
It was only fifteen stories tall, but when your city is covered 
by a dome and you need room for airplanes to fly over the 
building, fifteen stories is pretty tall.  

	Each floor had six apartments, except for the ground floor, which housed the staff and the dining hall.  Typically, as many of your clones as had survived to the point where you reached 
the Indigo clearance you needed to live there were put on the same floor.  Cel-I-AAA was unique in that she had a floor to herself; for she was the only Indigo in the building who still had all six of her original clones.  They gave her the top floor, and she would have had a beautiful view if MTA sector wasn't so incredibly ugly that even its own mother wouldn't love it, if it had one.  

	She was unique in a few other ways as well.  The concept 
of family was alien to Alpha Complex, except for your clone-
brothers or sisters.  Genetic material was extracted from 
volunteers, mixed in a machine, and grown in a vat.  They made 
six of you, on the principle that having backup copies was a 
good thing.  You didn't know your parents.  Most clones didn't 
even know the concept of parents, unless they belonged to a 
treasonous secret society.  Well, if they belonged to one that 
knew about parents; belonging to a secret society was both 
treasonous and almost as common as breathing.  

	Cel-I-AAA knew her parents.  The reason for this was 
that she was the only person in Bubblegum Complex (that she 
knew of) who hadn't been conceived in a machine.  Her mother, 
Lots-O-FUN-2 and her father, Katsuhit-O-STN-3 had been sent 
on a mission to the Outside for too long and the drugs that 
kept everyone's sexual instincts suppressed had worn off.  She 
had been born sextuplets.  The coincidence of it all would have 
bothered her if she'd actually known that having sextuplets 
wasn't normal for humans.  

	Somehow, her parents had smuggled them back into the 
complex and arranged for her to be raised as a normal 
Bubblegum Complex child.  When she was twelve, her father and 
his entire clone family was framed for treason by Quinc-Y-
GNM-1, the head of the multi-service group task force that her 
father had been assigned to which was developing new Bots.  He 
was terminated, of course.  She swore vengeance, taking the 
information her mother smuggled to her from her father's lab 
work, and training hard to one day be in a position to take 
vengeance on Quinc-Y.  

	He hadn't been sitting around, however.  He was Quinc-U-
GNM-1 now, head of MTA sector PLC (Productions, Logistics and 
Commisary).  He could have people killed just for looking at him 
funny.  He could have people killed for NOT looking at him funny.  
He had total control over the production of everything from 
chapstick caps to warbots (especially warbots) in MTA sector.   
When he talked, people groveled and licked his boots.  If he 
said to jump, you jumped into the reactor and pulled the rest of 
your clone family in after you.

	Cel-I-AAA intended to pull him down.  Sure, due to a 
bureaucratic error, she'd been put in charge of undergarment 
research in R&D instead of armor development.  Sure, every 
other Indigo clearance person in MTA sector was jealous of her 
because she hadn't lost a single clone in her rise to the top.  
Sure she was on the top of the Anti-Mutant society's 'MUST DIE 
NOW IN FLAMING CHUNKS' list.  Sure, one of her clones had to 
keep her clothing in a clone-sister's closet because some 
prankster had painted her closet white, making it Ultraviolet 
clearance, which meant Cel-I-AAA-4 would commit treason if 
she opened her own closet door.  It didn't matter.  She could and 
would overcome anything.  Anything at all.  Nothing would stop 
her quest for vengeance.  In some societies, Cel-I-AAA would 
have been considered insane.  In Bubblegum Complex, she was 
quite normal.

	This fact alone is sufficient to explain most of the 
reasons why Bubblegum Complex is such a mess.

	Todaycycle, she and her closest associates (not counting 
her sisters) were closeted in Cel-I-AAA-1's suite, discussing 
the results of their recent foray.  "Rule 12 now states, 'No 
scrawling our name into the concrete with a laser.'"

	Nene-R-NVA-1, still clad in her violet reflec skinsuit she 
wore under her violet (and quite treasonous for her to possess) 
armor, said, "Hey, how are we supposed to strike fear into the 
hearts of our enemies if they don't know who we are?  I mean, 
okay, I understand why you vetoed my idea of wearing batsuits, 
but..."

	Cel-I-AAA-1, who had changed out of her white reflec 
skinsuit and into her usual indigo uniform, said, "The fact that 
they don't know who we are will let us hide our activities 
among the usual secret society inspired anarchy.  When we hit 
bots, people will assume the Frankenstein Destroyers are to 
blame.  If we blow up a compnode, they will blame PURGE.  If 
we blow up some of Quinc-U's clones, Death Leopard will be 
blamed, and so on.  I'd even considered painting the outfits with 
the holy sign of the First Church of Christ, Computer-
Programmer, but I decided it was better to be enigmatic."

	Linna-Y-AMA-2, a slim athletic clone, who was in the process of changing into her armed forces exercise instructor uniform, said, "Yeah.  Well, I gotta run.  Evening exercise drill in two hourcycles.  If I'm lucky, the transbot won't wreck, this time."

	Priss-Y-ASA-3 grinned.  "It felt good to blow that combot 
to hell.  Damn bots.  I still think we ought to just blast our way 
into Quinc-U's HQ and toast him.  Heck, I could invite him to one 
of my concerts, then we could waste him."  She was changing 
into her HPD&MC uniform.  It was rather...non-standard.  A huge 
blonde wig, tight yellow shorts, and a tight red top that only 
barely covered her chest, leaving stomach and shoulders bare.  
It made some of the higher clearance clones look at her funny, 
though she didn't know why.  Mack-Y-STN-2, Cel-I-AAA's goon from Tech Services tended to look at her funny too, but he was a registered mutant, so maybe it was a mutant thing.  She suspected he used his x-ray vision to look through people's clothing a lot, although she had no idea why anyone would want to see another clone naked.  Like most Bubblegum Complex clones below Indigo clearance, she had been pumped so full of hormone suppressants that she had no idea what sex was, except maybe a treasonous spelling of 'six'.  

 	Cel-I-AAA-1 shook her head.  "He almost always uses bot 
duplicates.  We have to find proof of his treason and get him 
executed.   Then we'll all have our revenge."

 	Cel-I-AAA's squad, the Trouble Sabres, all had reasons to 
hate Quinc-U.  Priss-R-ASA-1 had been slaughtered by rampaging experimental scrubbots produced by Quinc-U's goons.  Priss-O-ASA-2 had been killed by a 'Sullivanbot' (Another fine MTA sector PLC product) on the Bubblegum Complex Variety Hour.  Linna-Y-ASA-1 had been killed by berserk Model BU-12 Combots that had been mislabeled by MTA PLC as Exercisebots.  We've already gone into Cel-I-AAA's motives.  Nene-R-NVA-1 had nearly been killed five times by defective teacherbots provided by MTA sector PLC when NVA sector had a teacherbot shortage caused by the Great Lunchroom Riot of '29.  Also importantly, it was her hacking skills which had diverted all the spare parts used to build their hardsuits.  No one was sure, except Cel-I-AAA, of Mack-Y-STN-2's motivations.  Something had happened to Mack-Y's first clone; cause of death unknown.  He seemed to derive enough pleasure from watching them dress and undress to feel compensated for his many services, 
although none of them but Cel-I-AAA understood why.  Oddly, 
she almost always went off in private to dress.  Clearly an 
Indigo thing.

 	Priss-Y frowned.  "Maybe we can lure him onto 'Alpha 
Annhilators'. I know some of those clones, and they'd jump at 
the chance to beat the snot out of a high programmer."

 	"Too risky."  Cel-I-AAA-1 handed out a set of clear plastic 
lenses to our crew.  "I want you to test these.  Some of my 
friends at R&D developed them.  They block out subliminal 
messages.  I'm curious to see the results."

 	Priss twitched.  Linna tried to calculate how fast she 
could run away if she used her mutant power over her adrenalin 
to speed herself up.  Nene said, "Okay!"  She took the two lenses.  
"Do I eat them?"

 	Cel-I-AAA shook her head.  "You put them in your eyes.  
Let me show you."  No one got to leave until she had finished 
demonstrating them.

*************

 	Ikari-G-NDO-3 looked at the three IntSec troopers and 
frowned.  As usual, his head was resting on immaculate green
gloves folded together in front of his chest, with his elbows 
resting on his desk.  "This is it?"

 Leon-B-NIC-1 grinned.  He was dressed in the casual duty 
clothing of the special division of the MTA sector Troubleshooters that hunted out of control 'bots and cyborgs, the 'ADPolice'.  It had started out as an IntSec department, but MTA sector had so many bad bots, it had been moved to the Troubleshooters and turned into a multi-service group taskforce.  He wore his usual black mirrorshades along with a blue jumpsuit, black undershirt, and a blue reflec jacket.  "Hey, you couldn't find three better troopers in the ADPolice, old clone."

 	Daley-B-WNG-2 smiled at the compliment.  He was a 
handsome clone with curly hair and a snazzy new jumpsuit with 
a casual jacket.  A casual kevlar jacket with a layer of blue 
reflec.  Perfect for off duty.  

 	Nene-R-NVA-1 nearly jumped out of her skin, then smiled 
broadly.  Reds were the second lowest clearance in Bubblegum 
Complex, and she was quite used to having higher clearance 
people treat her like trash.  Leon was pretty easy going as 
Blues went, but she hadn't quite realized he was this easy-
going.  She did her best to stand at attention in her red 
jumpsuit with a grey jacket and black and red formal uniform 
cap.  Her red laser was slung on her waist, shined and polished.  
This was her old school, and she wanted to impress the monkeys 
at Clone Creche 35 that she'd risen above them.  She'd been 
transferred here after the Great Lunchroom Riot of '29 had 
destroyed her original Clone Creche.  The 'class' she had come in 
with were all off being Infrared level goons, but she could still 
stick out her tongue at the clones in the classes under her who 
had known her before she hacked into the Computer and 
promoted herself to Red clearance.

 	"I asked for an entire squadron of troopers. "

 	"Well, you're not the head of MT3 sector Troubleshooters 
anymore, Mr. ex-Indigo clearance."  Leon-B said.  "Now you're 
lower clearance than us.  You want us to give our little speech 
or not?"  Ikari-G was green clearance, the next step below 
Blues like Leon and Daley.  Nene wasn't sure why Ikari-G had 
been demoted, but she had heard rumors.  Once upon a time, 
Ikari-I-NDO-2 had been head of MT3 sector Troubleshooters.  
There had been some sort of Commie Rampage, and then a meteor hit the sector Nuclear Reactor which exploded.  Ikari had been blamed for the disaster, since he hadn't stopped the Commies.  The surviving members of his clone family, who had been suspiciously absent, were demoted to Green clearance and he had been transferred to HPD &MC (Housing Production and Development and Mind Control), who had made him the principal of this Clone Creche, an educational facility for junior citizens.  

 	"You can't speak to..."

 	Daley sat on the desk.  "I think this would make a good 
blue clearance office, don't you, Leon?"  

 	"You wanna phone in the request for us, Nene?"  Leon 
asked.

 	She grinned and got out her communicator.  Ikari-G had 
made her last year of school hell.  "A code 7 rush job?"

 	Daley laughed.  "Naturally."

 	Ikari-G frowned slightly.  "I suppose you'll do."  He punched a button on his desk.  "Attention, students.  Sho, put down the explosives."  He paused, and they heard a distant, 'HEY!'.  "Thank you, Sho.  Now, all students will assemble in Auditorium 33-A.  Three representatives of the ADPolice, including one of our graduates, Nene-NVA..."

 	"That's Nene-R-NVA!"  Nene said.  How dare he leave out 
her security clearance as if she was an Infrared who didn't have 
one? Sure, she was only red clearance, but she was proud of it.  
She'd even dyed her hair bright red to match.  How dare he?  
Well, maybe because he could also order her to crawl to ZZZ 
sector using her tongue to get him a bagel if he felt like it.  
Assuming bagels weren't treasonous again.  

 	"Yes, of course you are."  Only Ikari-G could make a 
statement like that have the subtext of 'You will suffer a 
horrible death slowly over a thousand nightcycles in which you 
will be forced to gargle radioactive Hot Fun through your nose 
while a thousand guardbots strap you to a nuclear reactor to 
use as live shielding and Teela-O-MLY uses you as the 'traitor 
of the week' on the Teela-O-MLY show, followed by you 
becoming the only person in Bubblegum Complex demoted to 
BELOW Infrared status.'  Then again, he also sounded like that 
when he wanted a cup of Cold Fun too.

*************

 	Normally, Cel-I-AAA-3 would not have been caught dead in 
an Orange Level Cafeteria.  Well, maybe if she WAS dead. It 
wasn't the worst way to eat in Bubblegum Complex; Infrareds 
got a tube shoved down their throat and the food pumped 
directly to their stomach.  This was painful, but it actually was 
more pleasant than what passed for 'food' at that clearance.  At 
Orange clearance, you actually got to use a menuselector bot.  
You got to choose between two entrees (Algae steaks and Agent 
Orange burgers, today), two desserts (Hot and Cold Fun), and 
two biochemical supplements (Happy Citizen Pills and Teela-O-
MLY Vitamins).  You also got a generous thirty minutes to eat.  
Assuming that you didn't stand in line for most of that, since 
around 100 people had to be served in those thirty minutes by a 
single bot.  

 	Cel-I-AAA had cheated, come early, and used her clearance 
to force the bot to feed her before the established meal time.  
And to be discreet about it.  She was dressed all in orange, her 
old R&D uniform from her days as a mere lab tech two yearcycles ago.  The nametag had been changed, though, and now read 'Imn-O-FUN-4'.  This was mildly treasonous, but so was the secret society she belonged to.  Secret societies, actually.  Cel-I-AAA-3 was a tenth grade member of the Romantics, which her contact, Farg-O-MTA-3 (fourth grade) belonged to.  However, Cel-I-AAA-1 was a sixth grade Illuminati, Cel-I-AAA-2 was an eighth degree Psion, Cel-I-AAA-4 was a seventh degree Humanist, Cel-I-AAA-5 was a third degree Computer Phreak, and Cel-I-AAA-6 was a thirteenth degree Pro Techer.  Juggling all these responsibilities wasn't easy, even with a full clone family and enough mutant powers for five normal clone families.

 	Farg-O was first in line at the menuselectorbot as usual, 
making people groan. He was dressed in a black and orange 
tuxedo, complete with top hat and cane.  She could hear people 
mutter about how he always got here first.  There was a simple 
reason for that.  His mutation was teleportation.  It wasn't 
registered, but Cel-I-AAA-3 had plucked the info out of his 
mind during a field test of a R&D telepathy device, that oddly, 
worked for no one but her and some infrared named Akira-NTK-
1, who was last seen blowing up NTK sector.  Cel-I-AAA 
suspected that being smarmy was Farg-O's second mutation, 
though.  He sauntered over to her.  "How's the Algae steaks?" he 
asked.

 	"Agent Orange is people," she replied.  Sign and countersign.  Not that they needed them, since they had long known each other by sight.  Watching Farg-O jump in his seat was worth it.  "What news, 003?"  That was Farg-O's codename.  The MTA sector of the Romantics had modelled itself after several old novels they had found about a mythical hero, James-B-OND-007.  How he had gotten a seventh clone was unclear.  Nikita-V-FEM-4, the eighteenth degree head of the Romantics in this sector was now 'M'.  Cel-I-AAA, due to her R&D job, was Q.  The other members had been given numerical code names.  

       "Well, Q, it looks like Quinc-U has hired a new director of 
Bot production.  Asimo-V-JAN-6 was squashed by a Mark III warbot that was going around in circles due to some kind of problem with its Asimov circuits.  Ironic, eh?"  Asimo-V had been named after Asimo-V-ISC-4, who had invented the Asimov circuit, the hardware that kept bots under human control by forcing them to obey the Five laws.  "The new director is a transfer from MSN sector.  Brian-I-MSN, who was just promoted to violet clearance, so now he's Brian-V-MSN-5."

 	"What happened to Brian-V 1-4?"  Cel-I-AAA asked.  
Knowing the ways in which someone had died was important to 
measuring their threat level.

 	Farg-O picked nervously at his Agent Orange, then abandoned it and went straight to his Hot Fun, a nice warm orange pudding.  It would have smelled like applesauce, if anyone in the room had known what an apple was.  Cel-I-AAA preferred Cold Fun herself.  Poking it and watching it wiggle had a strangely hypnotic attraction.  Farg-O said, "Brian-MSN-1 died heroically defending a scrubbot from a group of Frankenstein Destroyers.  He was promoted posthumously and Brian-R-MSN-2 became a clerk in MSN sector Bot Distribution for PLC.  Through hard work, backstabbing, and bootlicking, he rose to Yellow clearance and got to supervise the front desk clerks.  Then he discovered from studying records that a group of Frankenstein Destroyers had infiltrated the Troubleshooters and were arranging the 'accidental' destruction of all the bots on their missions.  They were executed for treason, and he was promoted to Green Clearance.  Then he got in a fight  with   another Green, Grun-G-Guy-3 on his first day as a green, and got killed.  Brian-G-MSN-3 exposed the blue level head of Bot distribution as a traitor and waas rewarded with promotion to blue and his supervisor's job.  Sadly, he died in an elevator 
accident."

 	Cel-I-AAA said, "Someone cut the cord accidentally?  Or 
did they use explosives?"

 	"Apparently Death Leopard put a micro-nuke in it, trying to 
kill a High Programmer.  It malfunctioned and he became a rampaging tentacular monster.  He ate most of a Vulture Squadron.  Brian-B-MSN-4 provided information that helped put down the beast, and was transferred to DOA sector.  He reversed the problems they had and increased Bot Replacement Part production 2000%.  That got him promoted to Indigo, and appointed head of Bot Brain Production.  Unfortunately, he was invited to give a speech at Clone Creche #35, here in MTA sector.  Some Junior Citizen named Sho-MTA blew him up somehow.  For no apparent reason, he was then promoted to Violet clearance, and a few weeks later, Brian-V-MSN-5 got his new appointment.  Like half of PLC, he's in the secret society Free Enterprise, and if he has a mutation, we haven't found it.  Nothing that could prevent all those deaths."

 	"Thank you for that useful report, 003."  They turned their 
conversation to more innocuous matters, as the tables were 
starting to actually fill up now.  

*********

 	The pep talk wasn't going so well.  Leon resolved never to 
have an open question and answer session with junior citizens 
ever again.  

 	"Is your bad haircut a mutation, Mr. Freon?"  one little 
blonde girl asked.

 	"At least I can't be arrested for treason for having your 
hair color," he replied.

 The girl squealed and dove down, hiding.  A nine year old 
boy with short brown hair said, "Do you get to blow things up in 
the ADPolice?"

 	"All the time," Daley-B said.  

 	"Where do I sign up?"

 	All three of the ADPolice officers laughed at that.  
"What's your name?"  Nene asked.

 	"I'm Sho-MTA-2.  I like explosions.  Did you know that if 
you mix Pop Rocks with Bouncy Bubble Beverage and swap it for 
a teacherbot's motor oil, it will explode?"

 	Teacherbot Ann-345 started.  "So that's what happened to 
Ail-345!  You naughty boy!"  She picked up Sho and began to 
spank him with a ruler.  He howled, and suddenly her head 
exploded.  He fell to the ground.

 	"Meanie!"  He kicked the bot in the side.  All the kids 
converged on the bot and started pounding on it.  

 	Nene-R said, "Stop!  You're damaging valuable Computer 
property!"

 	"We hate her!  She bites off our heads while we're asleep!"  Some junior citizen shouted.
  
 	"She stalks the halls and spanks people!"

 	"She feasts on human blood!"

 	"She's a TRAITOR!"

 	Leon fired his slugthrower into the ceiling and the junior 
citizens froze in place.  "Let's talk this out, okay?"

 	They all hit the ground.  "Yes sir!  Don't kill us, sir!"

 	Daley smiled and pulled out a bag of Super Happy Fun 
Sugarballs.  He gave one to each of the Junior Citizens.  "Let's 
all be nice, happy citizens, okay?"

 	"Okay!"  Sho-MTA-2 said.

 	Leon looked around the crowd. "Sho, what happened to 
Sho-MTA-1?  Shouldn't he be here?"

 	"I'm afraid he found out that you shouldn't use a bomb 
with an on/off switch."

 	"Any more questions?" Leon asked the kids

 	"What was the last act of treason you committed?" a 
little black haired lass asked.

 	"I shot a Junior Citizen who asked stupid questions."

 	That did the trick.

*************

 	Linna-Y-2 felt strange.  Maybe it was the lenses.  She'd 
watched Wide Complex of Sports last night with her clone 
sisters and dormmates, but it just..hadn't been the same.  
Neither had been her early morning exercise session with 
Vulture Squadron #44.  Usually the videos were quite inspiring 
that played on the monitors lining the walls, but now they 
seemed insipid, repetitive, and boring.  Maybe it was the strange 
lenses from R&D.  Her clone sisters seemed okay, but she was 
afraid to ask them.  Someone might overhear and get the wrong 
idea.  

 	Right now, she was taking a beverage break with a friend 
from CPU, Irene-Y-CNG-1.  Linna led lunchtime exercises for a 
bunch of MTA secretaries, which was how she met Irene.  Unlike 
most of the secretaries, she actually took the exercise 
seriously, and they had become friends.  Linna got to eat a late 
lunch, so they had headed over to the MTA Armed Forces base's 
Yellow Cafeteria for some food and drink.  

 	They both had some 'nice' Algae Steak Stew with a side 
dish of Hot Fun and some Yellow Stuff on the Edge of the Plate 
Surprise.  The Bouncy Bubble Beverage dispenser had FINALLY 
been fixed after only two monthcycles, so they both had some 
New Formula Diet Bouncy Bubble Beverage with extra NaCl, 
whatever that was.  The more you drank of it, the more you 
wanted, it seemed like.  "How's things in your office?"  Linna 
asked.

 	Irene worked for the Office of Clone Replacement Projection Studies.  Their job was to figure out how many new clones would be needed this year, working from studies compiled by the Office of Clone Death Studies.  Unfortunately, since it took 18 years for clones to grow to maturity, it was often difficult to meet current needs.  These were both departments of CPU, aka Central Processing Unit, the central bureaucracy of Bubblegum Complex.  "We're testing Pats-I-JCK-3's new idea."

 	"Which is?"

 	"It's called the 'Wheel of Mortality'.  You spin it, and the spinner lands on a number which estimates the likely level of 
clone deaths in the year you set it to."

 	Linna blinked.  "It can predict the future?"

 	"We think so.  Unfortunately, none of us are cleared to 
read the instruction manual.  It keeps asking if we want to buy 
a vowel, but there's nowhere to insert plasticreds, and none of 
us are sure what a vowel is, anyway."

 	Linna laughed.  "Did you catch the news last night?  I 
missed it."

 	"Most of it was deleted for security reasons, but there 
was a report on the suppression of a renegade combot in the 
Infrared quarters by a team of troubleshooters."

 	Linna smiled.  "Any footage of them in action?"

 	"The current scuttlebutt is that they're lead by an Ultraviolet and a Violet, with a Blue and a Green as their lowly 
goons."

 	Linna-Y really didn't want to hear herself being thought 
of as Nene's 'goon'.

*************

 	Nene-R thought arming the Junior Citizens with lasers, 
even weak ones that could only fire a targetting beam was a 
BAD idea.  However, Daley-B and Leon-B were highly enthused 
about the final part of the program, a contest of 'Bake the 
Traitor'.  Nene finished hauling the various props into place and 
briefing the incredibly nervous (with good reason) target bots.  
Nene did her best to calm them.  Bots liked her.  "Don't worry, 
the lasers aren't real."

 	"That Sho kid is putting an Indigo barrel on his," Targetbot 
XYUTYRIO-345 said.  

 	She turned and looked.  He was, in fact, unscrewing the 
targetting barrel and putting on an Indigo one.  Lasers were red 
clearance, but the barrels, which contained the batteries and 
filters were usually higher clearance, and the higher clearance 
lasers punched through armor of lower clearance.  Nene's red 
laser was mainly useful for toasting Infrareds.  With an Indigo 
laser barrel, Sho could toast virtually anything.  Only Violets 
and High Programmers (Ultraviolet) would be immune.  

 	"Sho-MTA-2, drop the laser!"  She pulled her laser.

 	Leon-B and Daley-B blinked in surprise.  "Nene, it's just a..."

 	"Indigo barrel,"  Nene finished.  "Sure, junior citizens don't have a clearance level, but we can't let them play with 
dangerous toys."

 	"But the nice Violet man gave it to me!"  Sho said.

 	"Who?"  Daley asked, sidling closer to Sho.

 	"B..."  Sho's speech was cut off when the nearby coachbot 
suddenly pulled out a neurowhip and smacked him around, 
knocking him off his feet.  The laser tumbled through the air, 
seemingly moving in slow motion until it landed in the hands of 
Teacherbot Ann-346, who leveled it at Sho-MTA-2.  "You little 
teacherbot destroying monster!  Now, you're going to pay!"

 	"I order you to put down the laser,"  Daley-B said.  He was 
confident that the five laws of robotics, installed in every bot, 
which forced bots to obey humans above even preserving themselves, would make it put down the laser.

 	"Capitalist IntSec Running Dog!"  She turned and shot him 
in the chest.  He fell over, thump, with a nice charred hole in 
the chest of his suit.  "All hail the People's Revolution!"  It 
seemed clear that some group of Communists had replaced the 
Asimov circuits with Marx circuits on this bot.  Grouch-O Marx 
and his brothers Zepp-O, Chic-O, Karl, and Harp-O were known 
by even the lowliest clone as the founders of Communism.  
 
 	The teacherbot began to open fire everywhere, and Nene 
dived for cover amongst the targetbots.  Leon-B, as usual, put 
on his peril-sensitive mirrorshades (as issued by R&D), which 
went black, rendering him unable to see.  He then began to open 
fire, using one of his two mutations, zen shooting, which only 
worked when he couldn't see.  He would have taken out the 
teacherbot with ease, except that all the other bots rushed him.  
Zen Shooting isn't much good for NAVIGATING in the dark.  He 
tried to run away, anyway.

 	*Clonk!*

*****************

 	Cel-I-AAA-3 sat in her office, poring over reports on 
new experimental underwear that changed color when its owner 
was promoted in security clearance.  Blink-Y-GST-2 was either 
a genius or a madman.  Considering how R&D worked, he was 
likely both.  The underwear changing color actually worked, 
according to preliminary research.  The chip with its radio link 
that determined the user's clearance kept malfunctioning in 
various ways.  Still, this had potential.  

 	The MTA sector news station was on.  Her Indigo radio only 
blanked out short portions of the broadcast, as she was cleared 
for most of what would make it onto the news.  "Riot in Clone 
Creche #35.  Communist infiltration suspected.  Out of control 
bots are leading a riot by the Junior Citizens.  ADPolice have 
been dispatched."

 	Nene is down there, Cel-I-AAA thought.  Time to gather 
the rest of our team before Nene-2 has to be activated.

*****************

 	Nene crouched among the cowering targetbots.  Egged on 
by the teacherbots, the Junior Citizens were rioting.  Many of 
them were slaughtering each other as well.  Also, every bot in 
the place native to the creche was hunting Sho.  Sho-2 and -3 
were now just smoking boots, and #4 was stuck through the 
ceiling.  #5 and #6 were in hiding, although a few bot heads had 
exploded.  She was pretty sure that must be his mutant power.  
Luckily, the IntSec targetbots remained loyal, though mostly 
useless, and they clustered around her.  The junior citizens had 
forgotten her.  
  
 	The ping of laser fire made Nene take a peek.  Lindy-MTA 
and Wendy-MTA had taken Leon and Daley's Blue lasers and were 
playing 'Bake the Traitor' with the targetbots, who were howling in terror.  They looked like three foot high cylinders who had one long arm with a nearly invulnerable metal 'traitor' or 'citizen' mockup that they raised and lowered at intervals.  The more traitors you nailed in a given time, the more points you got.  Since their main bodies were NOT invulnerable, and most people in Bubblegum Complex were lousy shots, targetbots tended to be rather fearful.  

 	This didn't make Nene happy either.  Still, shooting Junior Citizens was treason.  She couldn't just waste them.  As she tried to think of a plan, the ceiling exploded and three 
hardsuited figures burst through it: one White, one Blue, and one 
Green.  A motobot flew behind them, hauling a suit of Violet armor.  The Blue fired an ECM shell and all the cameras went 
dead.  So did the Targetbots.

 	The two kids howled and opened fire on the Green.  The 
lasers punched through her armor, knocking her down.  She 
howled imprecations and the Blue hardsuited figure opened fire 
with her tear gas shell.  Two Junior Citizens were soon crying 
their eyes out and the Blue confiscated the two Blue lasers.

 	With no one looking and the nearest security camera out of 
commission, Nene quickly stripped off her Intsec uniform, 
revealing her violet skinsuit, and hopped into her armor.  A 
quick EMP pulse took out the rest of the rampaging bots...and 
the Blue and Green Sabres.  They both cursed as she said, "Hmm, 
looks like they need better shielding, Sabre White."

 	"Any idea what caused this?"

 	"Some Violet guy gave Sho-MTA-2 an Indigo laser barrel, 
and things got out of hand.  I think Communists reprogrammed 
the teacherbots."

 	"I think I'm going to rip off your head for locking up my 
armor, NENE!"  Sabre Blue shouted over the Com line.

 	"Let's get this Sho and withdraw.  We're not equipped to 
stop Junior Citizens without slaughtering them,"  Sabre 
Ultraviolet said.

 	"Nothing left of him but smoking boots,"  Sabre Violet 
reported.

 	"Any of his clone siblings still alive?"

 	Sabre Violet pointed to the one in the ceiling.  

 	"I'll get our companions, you get him."  Sabre Ultraviolet 
hoisted a Sabre under each arm and zoomed out through the 
ceiling hole.  Sabre Violet pulled Sho-MTA-4 down, then hopped 
out with her power assist and only overshot by two stories, 
ripping a hole in a food vat, which began to drain down into the 
Clone Creche.  She soon rejoined Sabre White.  Sho-MTA-4 only 
nearly drowned.

 	"So, Sho, where did your clone brother get an Indigo laser 
barrel?"  Sabre Ultraviolet asked.

 	"Are you a bot?"  Sho asked.

 	"No."

 	He pouted.  "So I can't order you to do stuff?"

 	"I'm a High Programmer.  I can have you used to pave the 
floor."

 	"Some PLC guy with slicked back hair gave it to him.  A 
Violet."  He thought hard.  "I don't know his name."  He thought a 
moment.  "He gave a speech at our school, and one of his clones 
died, I think, when the hall monitor bot thought he was tardy, 
and opened fire on him with his disciplinary slugthrower.  I 
always thought bashing in the head of slugthrower rounds made 
them explode when fired, but it didn't work."  He sighed.  "All 
my work for nothing."

 	"Do you sabotage every bot you meet?"  The Blue Sabre 
asked, still unable to move.

 	"Pretty much.  I have a knack."

 	"Good kid.  I'll send you some candy, later."

 	"Sho, we're going to take you to a new Clone Creche.  I 
think this one is likely going to be shut down,"  Sabre 
Ultraviolet said.  "Sabre Violet, stash your suit once we drop 
these two off at the van.  I'll take care of the kid and finish 
finding out what he knows.  You'd better call in some of your 
IntSec compatriots to stop the riot."

 	She nodded.  "Will do."

*************

 	Nene-R went to visit Leon-B and Daley-B at the hospital.  
They were both swathed in bandages, and Leon now had the 
phrase 'Death Leopard Rulez' tattooed on his forehead.  A docbot 
was trying to remove it with a large eraser, but not having 
much success.  Daley-B said, "Good work calling in the squad 
and getting us out alive.  I'm going to recommend you for Orange 
Clearance."

 	Leon-B said, "Did you see who tattooed me?"

 	Nene-R shook her head.  "It was total anarchy.  Could have 
been anyone or anybot.  We did recover your blue lasers, though.  
Here you go."  She handed them each their lasers.  

 	Leon grinned and fired off a shot at a nearby wall hanging, vaporizing it.  The barrel began to beep.  

 	"Urk.  I forgot those two kids were using them to play 
Bake the Traitor."

 	Standard Laser Pistol barrels can be fired six times 
safely, then there is an increasing chance of malfunction, 
usually a small but powerful explosion.  The children had each 
fired about twelve shots.

 	*BOOM!*

*****************

 	Cel-I-AAA-5 finished up her mission report form.  No one 
would read these but her, but she wanted complete records.  
She was also hacking into a few records, since she was the 
Cel-I-AAA who was most adept with computers.  A quick check 
revealed that all of the Creche 35 bots had undergone routine 
maintenance and had part 36 replaced due to 'routine damage'.  
Part 36 was the Asimov circuits.  All had been replaced with 
the standard part from MTA sector PLC.  She duly noted all this 
for future reference and possible treason accusations.  This 
Brian-V-MSN-5 would have to be dealt with.  And soon. 

 	She sent Nene, now laid up in the MTA sector Health 
Center, a memo to hack into all available MTA sector bot 
repairs.  That might give her a clue where to strike next.  She 
looked up a few seconds before Cel-I-AAA-2 entered.  "How are 
things coming along?"

 	"Mack-Y and I should be able to get Priss-Y and Linna-Y out of their suits before tomorrowcycle.  Getting better EMP 
shielding may be a little harder."

 	"I think keeping Priss-Y from killing Nene-R will be the 
really hard part."

"Well, Rule 8 does forbid strangling Nene, so that should 
stop her."

 	"You really think so?"

 	"No, but it makes me feel better."