The Animal Control Force Command Center buzzed with bots chattering intensely. Security video feeds filled the wall monitors, including the view of Rolo walking near the harbor. Text flashed in red: “Target Identified.” Maps plotted Rolo’s trail and positions of the nearby ACF bot forces.

“Colonel, we’ve got a location on the target, on Blocean Avenue heading north.”

“Sir, the 2nd Platoon is delayed in sector C30.”

“What’s the hold-up?” yelled the colonel.

“Their wormhole transport slipped into a Möbius time loop, sir.”

The colonel grumble-yelled, “Those cross-wired clunk-bots couldn’t navigate their way out of a paper bag with a compass! Now where is that drone squadron?”

“They are airborne and en route, sir.”

“Still? We’re going to need more. Lieutenant, get a robo-sub out there in case they try to flee by water.”

“Yes, sir.”

The colonel squinted aggressively at Rolo’s photo on the wall. “Okay, you mangy mutt. Your move!”