Jerome fell to his hands on the floor then moved over to face the long, thick bars. The captain of the colony stared back down at him with eyes of contempt and disapproval toward him, hands linked behind his back, shaking his head. The expressions that he had seen from others in the colony when fleeing for his life in other occasions and hiding until the danger had passed by. His eyes adjusted to the brightness in the room that was highly unfamiliar. He was used to the colors of yellow, orange, and red contrasting the dark gray theme.

Everything was so out of place.

As though it came from a different time that Jerome was very unused to.

The walls were incredibly clean lacking a scuff or scar behind from the people who had been inside of it previously. The florescent light fixtures installed on the wall from above had long thin black lines that continued outside of the cell. Asides to that, there were no signs of being disturbed since the colony's HQ had been established. Once upon a time, it used to be a colony ship that had housed his parents and relatives looking for a bright new start with hardship. But not the kind of hardship they were expecting. It was exactly how his father had recounted being in a ship telling Jerome as a boy.

The outside of the facility barely looked like a ship these days and lacked windows. The building was wedged in a circular valley. It had seas of greenery, a water fountain set in the center, and trees that were tall as the eye could see. Trees that he had not seen before in his lifetime. He was used to seeing patches of greenery and vines growing in places that were all the most typical: gardens. It was unfamiliar to see officers picking off apples from the trees.

"Your execution is scheduled for friday at eight thirty-seven sharp," Lewis said.

"Do I get to see my parents?" Jerome asked.

"You're a clone," Lewis said. "Clones don't have parents in the eyes of the law."

"So are you," Jerome said. "Like the rest of us, you refer to your parents as your parents not as cloning machines."

"I am a clone who abides the law," Lewis said. "I don't push my limits."

"Neither do I," Jerome said. "You understand the limits of survival out there."

"I do," Lewis said. "A farmer should always be ready to throw down not run away."

"How do you think my family survived the last attacks by the sabertooths?" Jerome asked. "I don't think you really understand what being a farmer is," he got up to his feet. "I think you hardly understand the reality of being smart."

"You are just parroting your family's opinions," Lewis was unsettled. "Do you have opinions of your own?"

"In matter of fact," Jerome nodded with a dry smile. "I do."

Lewis grew puzzled as he walked toward the side of the cell door.

"So why haven't you acted them out?"

Lewis leaned against the bars looking on toward Jerome.

"What I want is just not possible," Jerome leaned against the wall. "Not here, anyway." He looked down. "There is basic fact about how strong and smart those sabertooths are compared to us. They have claws and fangs. . .." Jerome gestured toward himself. "I just have teeth and hands." Jerome shook his head. "I am not the kind who wrestles with animals."

Lewis frowned.

"But you can make it possible," Lewis said. "You're constantly armed with your bone sticks."

"That's what my uncle said then he got killed by a sabertooth protecting my father and my mother," Jerome said. "That's what my best friend said before they got killed by a sabertooth. That is what my sister said before she got killed by a sabertooth! My family has naturally small growing bone blades." he took out a white blade from his forearm then showed it to the man. "So is it worth it fighting back when all I am doing is scratching the animal?" his anger flared in the words snapping the bone blade back where it belonged. "Is it?"

Lewis looked off, if only for a moment, thinking, then his attention returned toward the young man.

"Where do you think meat comes from?"

Jerome raised brows up high then lowered them.

"It comes from domesticated livestock," Jerome then added."not sabertooths."

". . . You're smart,"

Jerome had a smug smirk.

"Being a smart colonist has always helped me,"

Lewis glared long and hard at Jerome.

"Until today,"

Jerome folded his arms.

"It serves me well,"

Lewis shook his head.

"You are blinded by your own self-preservation,"

Jerome nodded with a smile.

"That's who I am and that's who I want to be. It is what has kept me alive including a good handful of my siblings and family members," he locked eyes with the captain. "Now, if you excuse me," he turned around then walked toward the bed and sat down on to it. Jerome faced the captain. "I have a execution to rest for."

"That is four days away," Lewis said.

"Ta, ta," Jerome leaned forward waving Lewis off with both hands.

Lewis walked away from the cell then the door closed behind him so Jerome slid his legs on to the bed and put his hands behind his back then closed his eyes falling asleep.