Conspiracy

Judge Hilo sat up on the slim purple couch in his daughter's home in Tundratown South. His eyes were assaulted by modest but colorful furnishings. Dark brown chairs invaded spaces between other furnishings with mid-tone greens, purples and sometimes orange. He sipped on a brown soup made from crushed beetles and boiled tree bark. Hilo took his time, sighing contently with the mild salty spices as they clung to his taste buds. A small stack of papers and folders were set next to his meal. He sat alone and prepared for the trial of a hacker allegedly trying to break into the ZPD database containing the personal information of registered officers. If convicted, the hacker, a pig, could face at minimum fifteen years jail time.

Outside as promised, he could see a small patrol car stationed in front of the home with two strong large officers keeping watch. The main guard detail had not arrived yet. The driver of the vehicle, a hefty rhinoceros, Officer Mchorn, made his big female wolf partner, Officer Fangmeyer, look small in comparison.

The arrangement was certainly not to his liking, but Hilo had no other options. The attack was still fresh in his mind. Thinking about it only rekindled his anger. He trusted Bogo but knew that the Chief couldn't do everything. But neither could he. He was only one judge. He looked out the window once more with a pen in hand and muttered,

"Thank's for looking out for me."


McHorn yawned dramatically, stretching back his permanently droopy eyes as he squinted. Fangmeyer stared with amusement at the mountain of bulk in the driver's seat and said,

"Aren't you cramped up in here? This car is not friendly to your size at all." His ears flicked about as he slowly turned to face her. His neutral frowny expression slowly stretched into a soft smile,

"I haven't thought about it. But now that you put my attention to this cramped space I'm going to stand up and stretch out." The car rocked and squeaked as the heavy load shifted to open the door. McHorn stepped out one tree trunk of a leg at a time and gratefully stretched. His tight ZPD uniform saved from tearing only due to its slight elasticity. McHorn stared at the sunny Tundratown village. The small houses were coated with thin sheets of reflective ice from fallen snow that had momentarily dissolved to rain before freezing solid. But this was the warmer part of Tundratown.

"Do you think there will be an attack out here?" Fangmeyer asked, still sitting in her seat. She slowly scanned the streets around her. Her ears twisted and perked like radars.

"Uh," McHorn nodded contemplatively at the ground, feeling the bite of the motionless chill air. "I don't know." His breath crystallized as he spoke. "We still don't know the true source of these attacks. Though the judge said that the attackers might have been sent by Big, that doesn't make it true."

"Ever the careful detective eh, McHorn?" McHorn turned and squatted to look at his partner, "I wouldn't be good at my job if I wasn't careful with my words or my hunches, you lazy wolf."

"I deserve that one," Fangmeyer droned. She then countered with, "But anyone who would go to such an extreme as to attack someone and burn their home but not kill them, and instead throw out a name...That's not something someone just does. It has to have been planned. I bet that it really was Big." McHorn snorted a breath and let the suspicion penetrate his thick skin. The chill on his horn crawled up the center of his head. Fangmeyer did have a point. But how would the ZPD catch him?

"In that case, we better make a move soon," he said. "Someone has to push back hard."

"But he keeps eluding us somehow..."

"Big certainly has friends in high places." When the bite of the chilly environment wore down McHorn's tolerance, he retreated back into the vehicle for warmth. The radio in their car blipped and hissed news from several officers patrolling Zootopia.

The main guards arrived in what McHorn considered a much more spacious black van. Fangmeyer reached for the noisy radio to contact headquarters to dismiss herself and Mchorn from the sit-in. The day was still early. McHorn and Fangmeyer would part ways and return to their original posts. He didn't worry. Judge Hilo was safe.


Manchas proudly walked into Assistant Mayor Dawn Bellwether's file room. He adjusted his tan dress pants and smooted his white under-shirt. The tan sleeveless vest he wore was a bit snug. He always struggled with getting the measurements of his shirts and jackets proper to his height. He stood with a straight and dignified posture one might find from a waiter or a butler. Chest out, shoulders proud and eyes forward. In front of him sat a small bloated wooden desk filled with folders and a laptop in the center from which Bellwether, a short female sheep with glasses, quickly worked. The blue light from the screen cloaked the eyes behind her thick black-rimmed glasses. Finally, Bellwether looked up at him and cheerily said,

"Manchas, good to see you punctual as always." Her soft and scratchy voice was oddly pleasant and friendly to his ears. "How have things been progressing, handsome?"

"Thank you for seeing me, Ms. Bellwether. Big has made progress injecting his influence into the ZPD. More officers have turned to him for assistance and support. Thanks to your counterfeit work, Big has managed to shield his fences from conviction and as we speak, is expected to receive a shipment of goods coming in to the Rainforest District. Your support is greatly appreciated."

"Oh!" Bellwether clapped her hands overjoyed by the news. Her curly wool bounced as she swayed in her seat. "Wonderful. Yes, it was hard work but our gullible Mayor is making it easy to keep suspicions to a minimum. We had to allow some small victories for the ZPD and its little group of do-gooders. The funding fronted by Lionheart and Jack Savage being nothing more than a false sense of security. Their time will come. Those two, along with the equally ignorant Chief Bogo won't last." So far, Bellwether thought the pair-up has been paying off. Manchas certainly agreed. The "equality for all" promised by Big's market scheme was all too enticing to pass up. Equality through the rule of one. A center point. Yes, that was the goal. And Manchas was eager to be a part of the revolution.

"And how go your projects, Ms.?" Manchas asked, keeping his posture formal and professional. Bellwether jumped out of her seat and walked around her table. She stood just up to the chest of Manchas, not including the poof of wool on her head, which added another three inches. She had a bit of a tummy behind that curly wool which only served to exaggerate the contrast between her torso and her skinny arms. It was an amusing sight to the panther. She stared at his muscled arms, prompting him to look at himself, wondering what she found so interesting. His black fur had a dull sheen in the faint light. He eyed the sheep as she approached him. A faint smile came across his face, revealing those dangerous fangs from behind his whiskered cheeks. She grabbed a paw and stroked his arm, admiring the danger as she eyed his sharp nails, made for tearing flesh.

"My experiments have been...educational." She winked at the panther. "I am so intrigued by all that power you predators possess. Such ferocity. I would love to wield it. And soon. But it would be best to time my actions with Big. The bigger the strike, the more assured our victory. And that will come if we work together in sync."

"So it shall be, Ms. Bellwether," He smiled confidently, if not obediently.