The koala stood in front of Clive Hoofer, a file in his lap. "Sir, I have to insist we prepare a press release in case of a loss tomorrow evening. Right now the polls are in Miss Gray's favor, we can't ignore the reality of our situation any longer. We need to have something to say."
Clive sat at his desk, his hooved hands resting on its surface one atop another. To their left sat a file folder very neatly squared. To their right sat his smartphone. Behind him the windows showed a bright afternoon. The office had a plain green carpet, wooden walls, and a pair of shelves on either side. Clive nodded slowly as he listened to his publicist. "I appreciate your concern. However, I do not believe that we will need a loss speech of any kind."
"Mr. Hoofer," the koala half-laughed in his disbelief, "surely you can't be so certain that we're going to win. Not when polls—"
"Polls and voting booths are two different things," Clive broke in. "Aren't they?"
"Yes sir, but we should still be prepared."
Clive stared into his eyes for a moment. He watched the koala return his gaze for a couple seconds, then look down. "Tomorrow we will put something together if we must. But I assure you it is not a priority for me or Dawn."
"Yes sir, I understand. Please though, for my own peace of mind..."
"Very well." The goat sighed. "We can talk about this later. I have Mrs. Luppin coming at approximately nine o'clock, I will see you at eight."
"Oh, uh, actually…" the koala winced a little, "my daughter's having her school play tonight, and she's really excited for me to go…she's in the lead role...and I..."
Clive did not react other than glaring.
"I should be able to make it sir, I'll have to leave early and rush over here though, I'd hate—"
"Good." Clive opened his folder and began to look through the papers inside. "Now, if you don't mind I'd like to be productive until our meeting."
As the publicist showed himself out, Clive flipped through the pages before him. He glanced up to check that the door had closed...then he picked up his phone and checked his messages.
Nothing yet.
The goat wordlessly stood and trotted over to his office's window. It looked over Savannah Central, and on the far end he could see the crowd gathered at the rally. He could not make out Tina's words, but he heard her voice carrying over the speakers. Right now he could only wait and hope that his men did the job correctly…
His phone buzzed. He looked at it.
DOUG CAPTURED. HOPPS TOOK HIM DOWN.
Clive raised his eyebrows at the second half, but replied back:
GOOD. KEEP EYE ON RABBIT.
He looked out the window again. It was nearly impossible to make out individual mammals at this distance. Could it have been possible that she escaped her conditioning? Had the process not been as perfect as the doctor had described? These thoughts buzzed around his mind. Clive paused. Captured them. Shoved them into a drawer and locked them inside.
He had more important things to worry about.
Clive spent the next several hours shuffling through papers. A proposed budget for a new line of tests for the savage predators...he ran several lines through the numbers detailing predator accommodations and wrote in red "TRIM BUDGET. FOOD CAN BE CHEAPER. ANY COMFORTS WASTE OF TAX MONEY." Now the latest medical reports, up for his review. After scanning the article he wrote "FIX DRAFT. EMPHASIZE INTERNAL ORIGIN. WHAT WILL MEDIA TAKE AWAY FROM IT?" The daylight died behind him as he worked, and he got up to close the curtains just before eight. Clive had his pen on another report when his phone buzzed again.
GETTING INTO POSITION
Clive replied back.
LET ME KNOW WHEN IT IS TIME
He was just in the middle of typing it out when he got a second message from another sender.
WE HAVE THE PACKAGE READY TO DELIVER
Again the goat responded.
WAIT FOR SIGNAL
He was just finishing this last message when he heard a knock at his door. "Come in."
Candace Luppin opened the door, holding a stack of papers in one paw and wearing a grim, yet satisfied expression on her face.
"Mrs. Luppin, thank you for your punctuality. May I offer you some coffee?"
"If you'd like." Clive stood and walked over to his shelf, where a pot stood empty. "Don't think hospitality will give you any reprieve, though."
He raised his hooves in a gesture of openness. "I simply want to offer you a drink, with it getting late and all."
He received no answer, so he went back to his pot. The filter and grinds went in the top, the water in the reservoir, and the pot under the spout. After he turned it on, he sat back at his desk. "Please Mrs. Luppin, make yourself at home."
The wolf did not sit. Instead she opened the folder in her arms. "I have finished my report. I've already sent a copy to the archive, and I feel it's only proper that I tell you what I found."
"I hope nothing out of the ordinary?"
"Oh," she scoffed, "I found plenty. Seventy-one instances of data tampering, thirteen of outright fabrication. The constant failure to follow ethical guidelines. Your department is one of the most disgusting things I've ever seen."
"Really?" Clive feigned ignorance. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't give me that. Look, right here, I got a testimony that…"
As she continued on her spiel, he looked back down at his papers and kept reading them. An employee review that he had to fill out. They'd been good and loyal, so he began to give them full marks.
The coffee pot hummed as the water heated, and began to pump the liquid over the grounds.
Clive's pen left thin black trails on the paper. Judy slept in her bed. Bellwether stepped into her premium booth at the Zoo Bowl stadium. Gazelle readied herself under the stadium's floor. Two sheep ran through the streets. A bound and gagged bobcat found himself being shoved forward by those two sheep. All over the city, mammals watched predators with vigilant eyes.
"..even listening to me?"
"I'm listening, I just need to multi-task."
Candace reluctantly continued her long list of transgressions, and Clive again checked out. Another review, this one for a giraffe who had to be convinced to find the proper results. Half-marks for her.
The pot began to whine and spit its final product into the pot with a choking gurgle. A rich scent filled the room.
Bellwether walked to her booth's balcony to look down at the bottom of the stadium. Gazelle looked in the mirror to make sure her makeup remained fixed. The bobcat struggled against his captors. He received a blow in his stomach and kept getting forced through the alleys. A dozen hooves checked their phones. Waiting. Watching.
"...production of a substance that doesn't seem helpful at all. Boiling these flowers, spending thousands of dollars doing it…" She paused. "Well don't you have anything to say about it?!"
Clive looked up about to answer, when he heard another knock on his door. "Come in."
The publicist came in panting. "Sorry sir...that I'm late...couldn't leave…" He spotted Candace there already. "Oh, I thought that...she wasn't going to be here 'til—"
"No no, come in." He motioned the koala inside. "We were just discussing a little bit of business. You're just in time for coffee, actually."
"No, Clive," Candace moved around the desk as he stood up. "I want to hear what you have to say for yourself."
"Coffee first. Then I'll tell you everything."
"Um, Mr. Hoofer?" The koala didn't stray far from the door. "I can leave and…" he had to catch his breath again, "...come back later if you'd like privacy?"
"I insist you stay. There's nothing I want to say that you can't hear."
He felt Candace's skeptical eyes on his back as he went to the coffee pot and took three mugs from his shelf. The black steaming beverage swirled in the cups. Clive lifted the sugar lid. Gazelle stepped onto her platform with her backup dancers. A spoonful of sugar disappeared into the coffee. The bobcat tried to cry out despite his gag. Clive opened a small plastic cup of creamer. Bellwether watched the lights dim. The cream clouded and swirled within the mug, staining the black coffee tan. The sheep forced their prisoner to the left. Watching. Waiting. Judy still sleeping.
"Here," he handed a mug to the koala, "and here." He handed the second to Candace. As he stepped back to the machine the glittering lights of Zootopia appeared through the windows, colors cut into black paint. Clive lifted the mug to his lips and took a slow bittersweet sip.
"Now Clive, what did you want to say to us?"
He closed his eyes at Candace's assertion. "Mrs. Luppin, always so focused. Never deviating from your charge." The goat turned around and locked his eyes on hers. "Always looking to get ahead, always looking to climb the ladder. I mean, looking to be counsel for Mayor Tina Gray? I almost admire your ambition."
"I don't believe we were talking about me. We were talking about you."
"Right, right." He took another sip of his coffee. "You aren't drinking?"
Candace glared down at her mug. The audience cheered as Gazelle began to rise onto the stage to a swell of music. The bobcat felt himself dragged across the street. The sheep carried their load up to the fence of Little Rodentia.
"Mrs. Luppin, you don't really suspect me of fouling your drink?"
She looked up again. Gave a short curt taste. Clive sat down again as she spoke again. "I'm getting impatient. What is your answer to my accusations?"
At the same moment his phone buzzed again. It was a single message from Bellwether.
BEGIN
The same message had been sent to a score of other cellphones.
"Stop looking at your phone and talk to me!"
Clive walked around their chairs. The koala and wolf turned their heads to follow. "Mrs. Luppin, you want to know about my work with the Midnicampum holicithias flower?"
No response. The goat turned around and looked at his publicist.
"I appreciate your help."
Before the koala could meekly thank him, Clive pulled a pistol out of his jacket. He raised it and fired at Candace.
Gazelle sang on stage, her dancers by her side. The pyrotechnics flared just as Bellwether fired. Fire flashed in every camera making the pellet invisible as it smacked right on a tiger's neck.
The bobcat found himself unbound and ungagged before getting hurled over the fence of Little Rodentia. The shadows obscured his attackers, and he got to his paws just in time to feel a blow on his forehead.
A jaguar sitting at a cafe felt a sting on his shoulder. A bear sitting with his window open. A weasel sleeping in the park. A cheetah waiting in the middle of an intersection.
Clive calmly stepped outside the door as Candace fell over in her seat. The bitter bite of chemicals overpowered the comely coffee. His publicist jumped onto the floor.
"What-what's going on?!" He knelt over the wolf as she rolled around in pain. "Clive! Clive what are you doing?!"
The goat sipped his coffee without looking back. He could hear Candace's groans turn to snarls, felt the koala's creeping realization build. Clive stepped outside, closed the door, pulled out his key, and locked Candace and his publicist inside.
Gazelle was just hitting a long pitch when she turned and saw her dancer on his knees, his head in his hands. The music kept playing as she stopped singing. She began to approach in concern, putting down her microphone. Before the singer could ask what was wrong, she saw him fall on his side. Saw his eye, devoid of any rational thought, filled with raw instinct.
The bobcat writhed on the outskirts of the borough. Mice and shrews and rats came grumbling out of their apartments to complain about their neighbors' noise, only to see the massive feline struggling against himself. His mind filled with alarms, his vision swam. He felt dissociated from himself. He was in a corner. He smelled the air. Saw moving shapes. Clawed his face. Clawed the ground. Urges that had been hammered out as a cub came bursting back stronger than ever.
"Mr. Hoofer?" The koala shook the door handle. "Mr. Hoofer open the door! Mr. Hoofer, please open the door!" The wolf growled inside as Clive leaned on the wall, staring into his cup. The sugar hadn't quite dissolved all the way. He swirled his dregs around to encourage it more.
Gazelle backed away in horror as the tiger got on all fours and snarled at her. The crowd went from cheering to shrieking. Bellwether leaned on the railing and watched her work with satisfaction.
Rodents frantically dialed 911 as yowls and screams pierced the night. Those caught outside didn't know whether to run and make themselves a target, or freeze and get no closer to escape. They looked up to see a flash of claws or a snap of teeth; for many it was the last they saw. Office buildings were toppled. Cars tossed about like chew toys. Streets gashed by claws.
Tables were overturned as patrons suddenly turned on their waiters. Mammals heard their neighbors at home tear into the walls. Cars swerved as predators dashed into the streets. Another car swerved and crashed into the side of a building, its driver slashing at their upholstery and snarling at anyone who came within fifteen feet.
Clive slowly downed the rest of his coffee, savoring its taste as the koala's pleading devolved into panicked hollering. There was a vicious yowl. Thud. "MR. HOOFER! CLIVE PLEASE! GOOD GOD HAVE MERCY!" Claws scraped down the door and away across the carpet. Now came the tearing of clothes and — Clive didn't let his imagination go further than that.
Gazelle fell back as the tiger leapt on her. The other dancers came to her aid, but not before a paw came down and slashed at her arms. Rodents cowered in their homes and prayed that their neighbor's scent was stronger than their own. Screams and cries erupted throughout Zootopia as the very semblance of civilization seemed to crack and crumble. The police scrambled to action as hundreds of calls flooded their lines.
Clive only heard the heavy husky breathing of the wolf inside. He knelt and slid the key under the door. The mug and saucer he rested in the pot of a plant; they were his favorite and he couldn't have them being broken. Only then did he run off, yelling "Security! Security, help!"
It was about that time that Bogo finally managed to reach Judy.