Hello, my fellow Zootopians!
Somehow, the stars were aligned against me over the course of the last few days!
First, my back was molesting me quite a lot over the course of the last three weeks. (In case you're interested, I'm suffering from a chronic condition called sacroiliac joint dysfunction. Not dangerous, not serious, but very, very painful!) Then, a few days ago, my computer decided to call it quits. Again, nothing a new memory module wasn't able to fix, but for a few days I was without my trusty computer. Now everything is fixed again, my back as well as my computer. Time to get serious again!
Speaking of serious, this chapter will be, yet again, a complete departure in tone, just a small reminder that there are quite a lot of mammals out for blood …
Thanks to my ever-faithful reviewers, namely PointyHairedJedi, Haradion, RandomNobody37, Galaxyexplorer74, eng050599, Wolfs-Lp, HawkTooth, hpalex13, Dirtkid123, and an anonymous guest. (I'm not exactly sure what you wanted to tell me. Your words were quite cryptic …)
A quick look at the stats: More than 7,200 views, 82 reviews, 76 favorites, and 126 alerts. Some of you obviously like what I'm doing here! I LOVE IT! Thanks a bundle!
This chapter is rather short, at least for me, because I merely need to explain a few things and introduce another new character. Can you guess who it is?
Right, it's Santino Coniglio! Whose species nobody has been able to deduct so far. Surprising, really! All you need is an online dictionary, like the one I'm using. (w.w.w..d.i.c.t..cc, in case you're wondering. Just remove the superfluous dots, keeping just the one behind www and the one before cc.) Well, it's too late now …
Speaking of not being able to deduct, nobody has found the "Spinal Tap" reference so far. Come on! It's such a famous concept!
The disclaimer can be found in the first chapter.
Chapter Nine
The Evil That Mammals Do
You're my enemy. All that we had has gone away. There are times that fade away, but you'll still be my enemy.
Fozzy: "Enemy" (Written by Rich Ward and Rick Beato, from the album "All That Remains," Ash Records, 2005)
"Mr. Kaffer?" The voice of his secretary sounded over the intercom. "Mr. Coniglio is here to see you, sir."
"Send him in, Cynthia. And thank you." Moritz Kaffer took a sip from his glass and straightened on his office chair. As much as he, personally, liked Coniglio, he was never able to shake the feeling of having been given a paw grenade with a pulled pin. When the mood struck him, his guest, however small a mammal he was, could be more terrifying than the most ferocious tiger.
And considering the way he marched into his office, it looked like Coniglio had been struck by the mood.
"Moe," he said without preamble, even before he had reached the desk. "I hope you have a good explanation for Bellwether molesting me over the phone every five minutes. And make it a damn good explanation!"
Kaffer shrugged before pointing at the empty chair in front of his desk. "What are the alternatives, Sonny? You know just as well that if I kill her right now, probability is high that her corpse would lead the ZPD here."
Coniglio had ignored the offered seat. Standing next to the chair, his ears erect, his left hind paw pounding the floor with a furious speed, his posture radiated unrestrained fury. "Bullshit!" he growled. "It's easy to make a corpse disappear! You've done it before!"
"Yes, I have," Kaffer responded matter-of-factly, "but as of now I cannot be certain that their escape from Elkatraz has been seamless. Wallace and his mammals have burned the speedboats, so forensics should come up empty, but you never know. Right now I want to avoid anything that could alert our esteemed ZPD personnel to our existence. Our situation is not that established - it is still possible for us to lose it all. When Ramses has finished his job, things will be different, but until then, keeping everyone involved alive is my preferred choice of proceedings."
"So I'm stuck with the devious sheep."
"I am afraid you are, at least for the time being."
"How long?"
"Half a year at the longest."
Coniglio groaned. "Half a year? What did I do to you to deserve this? You wanna torture me? She's the most annoying piece of trash I've ever met!"
"Yet she may still serve a purpose."
"Which is? Come on, Moe! She's completely and utterly useless! Her connections are stone cold dead, her knowledge of political proceedings is prehistoric, there's absolutely nothing she can help me with!"
"I thought as much. However, I was talking with Ramses previously. He has great plans for our new serum, and when everything works out the way he expects it to, she might still serve a purpose."
"What purpose?"
"She can serve as an example, a test bed, so to speak."
"For the new serum? Moe, she's prey! Last time I checked, we wanted to use the stuff on predators!"
"We will, do not worry. She will merely serve as an example for the effects of the serum on other mammals."
Coniglio paused. "You want her to be mauled by a predator." It was a statement, not a question.
"That is indeed the plan, or at least part of it, because I have a very special predator in mind." He raised his hoof. "And before you ask, I will not tell you. The less you know, the better."
Coniglio hesitated, then he shrugged. "In other words, I can only hope for Ramses to finish his work quickly."
"I could not have put it better myself."
Coniglio gave him a wry smile. "Yeah, speaking of Ramses, I'm surprised you're still rooting for him." Every trace of friendliness left Kaffer in a split-second. Coniglio continued: "You're growing soft, old buddy! If someone had fooled you like that twenty years ago, you would've skinned him alive."
"As for me going soft, I would not count on it."
Coniglio raised an eyebrow. "So why's he still here?"
"Because I need him, simple as that." Kaffer sighed. "Believe me, when he and Bellwether left our project, I tried my utmost to pick up the pieces. Unfortunately, creating the Night Howler serum is tricky business. It consists of about 400 different ingredients, and they all have to be precisely measured to reach the desired effect. If the mixture is incorrect by just the slightest amount, the result is … less than satisfactory. The Midnicampum holicithias plant, while a very important ingredient, is only part of what makes the toxin so potent. Ramses knew the formula, I did not, and when he left, he failed, or even outright refused, to tell me before he did. I must have tried thousands of different combinations, none of which were working. In most cases, the serum was too weak, so the mammals did not properly turn savage and retained at least parts of their mental faculties. Or the flight instinct overpowered everything else, so they started running away instead of attacking other mammals. In some cases, the serum was much too strong, so the targeted predators suffered an immediate heart attack or brain hemorrhage and died. Only Ramses fully understood the intricacies, only he knew the precise formula. I was not even close to finding the needle in the haystack, let alone be able to rid the serum of its color and smell. I spared literally no expenses trying to free him from imprisonment, and you know how much I hate to waste money. This alone should tell you how desperately we need Ramses - at least at this moment."
"And when we do not need him any longer?"
Kaffer shrugged. "As you know, I am not known for carrying dead weight around."
"So he'll have to go as well?"
"Preferably. If the ZPD has him in its grasp, he might tell them his dirty little secrets."
"You think so? He kept his trap shut for almost four years."
"Yes, but he knows that as soon as he is done with his job, he will turn into a liability."
"He doesn't trust you?"
"He trusts me just as much as I trust him. Which is not very much, considering his previous decisions."
"He was misguided."
Kaffer smiled. "I have to admit that I am surprised, Sonny. Are you rooting for the ram?"
Coniglio snorted. "I hate the very sight of him. His stupidity cost us years."
"And millions of dollars. Which, in the long run, is much more important to me."
Coniglio raised an eyebrow. "Still not won over to our cause, I see."
Kaffer shrugged. "You know I have a different agenda. Your cause is just the thing I need to see it fulfilled. So, despite the fact that I can still see a lot of flaws in this cause of yours, you can count on me to do what is necessary to promote it."
"I never doubted it for one second, Moe." Coniglio gave him a smile, showing his buckteeth. "We've gone through so much together, you're literally the only mammal on this planet that I fully trust."
Kaffer bowed his head. "The feeling is mutual, my dear friend."
"And your agenda, it's still the same one?" Coniglio asked in a casual tone.
"You can bet it is. Besides, can you name a cause stronger than good, old-fashioned revenge?"
Coniglio grinned. "I don't know. Money?" Both of them chuckled. Coniglio continued, somewhat more somber: "So, you can target one of 'em with the new Night Howler serum. But what about the other one?"
"I thought of having him taken out by a predator who is close to him."
"Close? He's not the kind of guy who has many friends."
"But there are a few mammals which are more dear to him than others. A bunny and a fox, for example."
"Do you really think a tiny fox can take him out for good?"
Kaffer smiled, a rather humorless affair which did nothing to make his face look more endearing. "Believe me, Sonny, with the new and improved Night Howler serum coursing through his veins, even tiny Nick Wilde will be more than up to the task."
"He's more likely to take out the bunny, seeing how close they are."
"Do not tell me you are worried about Judy Hopps."
Coniglio guffawed. "Because she's a bunny? Come on, she's a disgrace to our species. If Wilde kills Hopps, all the better. But you better make sure she's not his only target."
"Taking her out is a nice side-target, but our main focus lies elsewhere. And as far as that one is concerned, the moment will present itself in due time, do not worry."
"You sure?"
"I am certain of it."
"You put a lot of trust in the new serum."
"Because Ramses will deliver. He knows full well that his life is on the line if he fails to deliver this time."
"Well, then let's hope he's up to the task."
"Do you really think I would have wasted that much money on freeing him if I was not convinced he would be?"
"Certainly not." Coniglio leaned back in his chair. "So, our great plan finally comes together. After all these years."
"It has certainly been a long time. But now, the pieces are finally on their corresponding spots. All we need to do now is wait for Ramses to finish his work."
"And until then, I'm stuck with Bellwether."
Kaffer bowed his head. "Patience, my friend. She will not pose a problem for much longer. We have waited for so long, we can wait for a few more months." He got up from his chair and walked over to a little cupboard, opening it and fetching two glasses and a carafe.
Coniglio sighed. "Well, looks like I have no choice. You better make sure her exit from the stage is as painful as possible. She's such a pain in the ass!"
Kaffer smiled while he poured two glasses. "As far as I know, that is exactly what the public thinks about most politicians."
Coniglio returned the smile. "You know, you can kiss me where my cheeks meet."
"Charming as always. It is good to see that some things never change."
"Other things do." Coniglio pointed at his face. "It's been almost twenty years, and still I can't bear to look at this face of mine."
Kaffer nodded. "Like the famous aviator Otto Lilientapir once said: 'Sacrifices must be made.'"
"You know he said it on his deathbed?"
"Of course." Kaffer handed Coniglio a glass and raised his own. "Still it is true. Some sacrifices must be made."
Coniglio raised his glass, too. "Especially given the ultimate goal."
"To our goal."
"To our goal."
Yup, "coniglio" is the Italian word for rabbit. My wife knows a bit Italian, and she told me about this years ago. Somehow it stuck with me. So yes, Santino Coniglio is a rabbit. Partly because I like the word, and partly because I have yet to find a story with a rabbit being the outright villain. And in case you know the book (or the movie) "The Godfather," you'll remember Santino "Sonny" Corleone, the Don's oldest son and heir apparent to his empire, until his untimely demise through lead poisoning …
Legend has it that "Opfer müssen gebracht werden!" ("Sacrifices must be made!") were the final words aviation pioneer Otto Lilienthal said before succumbing to the injuries he had suffered after his glider crashed on August 9, 1896. Changed his name to Lilientapir because, well, just because. ;-)
There are no hidden references in this chapter, at least none that I'm aware of. Just didn't feel the inclination to think of something. But there will be a lot of them in the upcoming chapters …
Well, the field is open for speculation. What will happen next? Just so you know, it'll be some time before we get to see Kaffer and Coniglio again. Next chapter, we will return to Bunnyburrow, watching our favorite couple …
Thanks for reading, and please, send me your reviews!
Take care!
J.O. aka TheCatweazle
