Tails suppressed the urge to kill.
"So, after that I picked up the flag and kept running. It was all up to me, just like always. I knew I had to make it in less than a minute, so I just focused on my objective! And can you guess what?"
Tails looked at her.
"No," he said, when it became obvious she was waiting for an actual response. "What?"
"The entire obstacle course imploded! Trees were sucked in, and I was devoured by the spatial anomaly! Any second now, I'll vanish in a puff of time space paradox, and you can go without me!"
He blinked. Cursed imagination. That wasn't what she had actually said.
"I made it in only forty seconds!" Jamie said (in reality) and laughed annoyingly. "I had a whole twenty seconds to spare!"
'Obviously,' Tails thought. But said, "Pretty good."
"I know! I was the best in my class!"
Tails nodded, as if caring, and looked up at the dark night's sky. It was clear, without a cloud in sight, and sparkled with stars. It was a nice evening to just… relax. He hadn't been eager about taking this 'Jamie' girl in the first place, and had only done it because he felt sorry for her. They both knew that she was only using him to get into Sonic's exclusive party, even though she still pointlessly denied it. What? Did she think he'd break into tears because she wasn't really attracted to him?
"I was the only one in my class," he joked weakly. They both laughed, clinging to the joke like it was something really great. A wonderful moment of silence settled on them as he walked her from her dormitory to the 'old' part of Knothole. The original part. The part he had grown up in, less than a handful of years earlier. He was only twelve. She was thirteen. And yet she called him 'sir.'
Then the silence ended.
"Isn't that a pretty dress?"
Eyes half lidded, he looked over to where she was pointing. It was a clothing store (closed for the night), one of the numerous tailors that had sent up shop in Knothole during its demographic expansion last year. The only thought that crossed Tails' mind was how much water and power the store used that could have been re-routed into the town's truly important systems and venues. The dress she was pointing to was some silver sparkly thing that looked overly ostentatious. What was it with females and clothes, anyway?
He felt like saying, "How the hell should I know? I don't even wear pants."
But actually said, "Sure. I guess its ok."
"Really?" She said, somehow excited by this supposed revelation. "I like it too!"
'I'm going to throw you into the water.'
"Let's get going." He grunted, and gently pulled her along. She was already wearing a pretty fancy looking dress, or something. Well, it was less a dress and more a miniskirt and tube top. He hoped she had something better to fight in once she actually became one of Sally's little army of Freedom Fighters. The last thing he needed was to go on another mission of mercy to save a bunch of cadets.
Though it might be exciting, at least.
"Miles?"
Oh: so no more 'sir,' huh? He reminded himself that he didn't care.
"Yeah?" He asked, picking up the pace of their walking.
"The Princess will be there, right?"
He rolled his eyes. "I'm sure she will be."
A pause. Then…
"Don't you find that a little weird?"
"What do you mean, weird?"
"She's the Princess." Jamie explained, and Tails took a second to look at her. She looked… a little like Sally. Except the hair was different, and she was a little shorter than the older heiress to the Acorn Throne. And she had an actual bushy tail.
"So?"
"So… why is she going to a party with a bunch of regular people?"
"It's called slumming."
Jamie pondered that.
"What's called slumming?"
"Never mind…" Tails had enough self-control not to sigh. "Look: Sally isn't some divine figure or anything. She's a mobian like you or me."
'Well, not so much me,' he thought acidly. He could see that Jamie wasn't quite convinced.
"If you ask her, she'll tell you exactly what I just said." Tails used his learned and wise Freedom Fighter voice. "Because I learned it from her."
"So I'll be able to meet with her?"
The girl had a real one-track mind. Tails smiled, honestly amused. "I'm sure she'll be happy to meet a future Freedom Fighter. Especially one with so much potential."
"Thanks." She looked at him, blushed just a bit, and turned away.
They were almost there.
"Miles… thanks for taking me, too. To the party."
He blinked his eyes, surprised by the sudden approbations. He nodded his thanks for the thanks, and then they were there. Sonic's hut was more of a small house, as befitted the eventual and future King. It was two stories, twice the size of Tails' own hut, but Sonic never really took advantage of the extra space. He had been offered an even larger house, but had given that one away to a large family that had been reunited after the supposed 'death' of Robotnick, some time ago.
The party seemed to be in full swing. Tails had heard the music from half a block away, because of his more-sensitive-than-the-normal ears. His blue hero favored a techno (or occasionally industrial) beat with a quick pace, played at impressive volumes. Ringing the doorbell, Tails needed only wait a few seconds. Sonic was quick, but not usually quick to answer the door. On seeing his fox friend, Sonic beamed.
"Tails! You made it!" He laughed.
The two tailed fox made a little mock bow. "Yeah, well, who I am to turn down an invite from the King?"
"Issatso?" Sonic leaned in closer. "In that case, you should've shown up on time. You, my friend, are… tardy."
The two instantly broke into a state of laughter, and patted each other on the shoulder. Tails wiped a tear from his eye. "Oh man! It's been a while, but I deserved that! Tardy!"
"Hey," The cobalt hedgehog ribbed his friend, finally paying attention to his other guest waiting at the threshold. "And who is this, Big Guy? I should've known you'd bring along a girl!"
"Sir." Jamie bowed her head.
"Yeahyeahyeah." Sonic motioned them both inside. "None of that crap around me, alright. I'm not King yet. Don't want to be, either. Just call me Sonic."
"Who else is here from the old gang?" Tails asked, and not just for his own enlightenment.
Sonic counted them on his fingers. "Well… Rouge dropped by an hour ago. She's stalking about somewhere. Probably looking for something to steal. Sal's here, of course. She's by the bar."
Tails raised an inquisitive eyebrow at that fact. "Not drinking, I trust."
"Are you kidding?" Sonic shivered. "The last thing we need is her passing out again. No. She's 'socializing.'"
"Riiiight."
"Bunnie and Antoine came in, like… five minutes before you showed up. They're probably making out on the patio."
Tails nodded. Jamie seemed shocked and scandalized. Those were her teachers…!
"Of course…" Sonic smirked. "Amy's here."
Tails' features darkened a shade. He hid it like a pro. "Really?"
"Yep." Sonic seemed to be suggesting something.
Tails pretended not to get it. "Anyone else? What about the ol' Knucklehead?"
"Red couldn't make it." Sonic shook his head sadly. "Real shame."
"Haven't seen him in a while…" Tails started to talk, knowing that he and Sonic were about to take a trip down memory lane. It made him glad he came. Sonic and him and Knuckles, back in the good old days… back when they had ol' Robotnick on the ropes. That was great! Those were the days! Back when they'd tear out of this tiny little hide out called Knothole, and bust some robotic skulls. To an extent, Sonic was still living that wonderful life.
'I still admire you for that,' he wanted to say.
But Tails knew Sonic already knew it.
The two walked off, talking and laughing. Left behind, Jamie huffed angrily for all of a second before running off to enjoy herself. The rest of the night was a whirl of techno music, of laughing animals and cheers and boasts and toasts. Tails remembered holding Antoine up while the canine yowled some terrible song in some foreign tongue. He remembered Rouge and Amy, talking by a strobe light, blinking in and out of existence. He remembered Sonic and Sally dancing, the lights playing off their faces, the emotion spreading to every corner of the room. He remembered watching them move, enmeshed with the simple presence and closeness of each other.
He remembered… that he didn't care.
In the end, he stood apart. Alone, he watched the sky race by, the stars slowly streaking across the naked night. Mirroring life, the stars seemed free… but they, like all things, were confined and dictated to by the strings of physical limitations and laws. At such a distance, stars and planets all seemed the same… but close up they were very different. When one looked more closely, a planet would never appear to be a star.
The sting of alcohol lingered in the back of his throat, but his mind was a clear and sharp as always. Sally had, of course, forbidden him to drink until he was fourteen. Not that she was in any state to reprimand him. A single cup of the spiked punch had laid her out for most of the night, and she had retreated to the upstairs guest room. He and Sonic had walked outside soon after, and looked up at the stars for a few minutes. They hadn't talked. They just sat, and watched the time go by.
And then he, too, was gone.
Tails crushed the paper cup in his hand. In his opinion, it deformed far too easily, so he kept squeezing. Kept crushing. Until it hurt. It was a good feeling, when his claws finally bit into skin. Dropping the mashed remains of the cup, dotted red with bits of blood, he choked back a bittersweet sob. Looking around hastily, he made sure he was alone, and slowly slid down against the wall until he hit the ground. No one would see him.
No one would…
He didn't finish that thought.
He refused to finish that thought.
The stars moved, but he did not. What was the point? What was the purpose? He was only twelve, but he felt… old. Spent. … Lonely. Tomorrow, he would wake up. Tomorrow, he would comb his hair, eat some bland and disgusting breakfast… tomorrow he would work on some menial problem. Maybe a power coil that shorted out. If he was lucky, he'd have some free time to … work. He'd try and scrape together the money and equipment for some additions to the Tornado 2, or any of his other pet projects.
But none of them would really save lives.
None of them would end the war.
He could build a bomb, but Robotnick could build a bigger one. And a lot more of them. He could build a robot. But Robotnick could mass-produce anything he managed to cobble together. He could build a weapon. But… really: what good was one weapon? Or even a dozen? Nothing he could build would be a miracle panacea for the troubles of Mobius.
He could fight, too. Oh yes. While he didn't make the 'run' to Robotropolis as often as he did last year, he knew he could fight. He was fast, he was pretty tough. He was an asset. But he wasn't enough. Maybe if he was another Sonic. And then maybe if there were ten more of him. Yes. That might do it. Twelve Sonics, tearing Robotropolis apart, turning into flaming golden icons, inspiring generations to come… wouldn't that be something? But he wasn't Sonic.
He'd learned that long ago.
He wasn't Sonic. He never would be. He never could be.
"So who am I?" He asked, a whisper. "What am I?"
He heard her approach a second before she spoke. "Hello, Tails."
He didn't answer.
To his chagrin, and despite his rudeness, she sat down next to him. Red and pink moved in the distant corner of his vision, and he closed his eyes. For a while, neither said anything. Then, he broke the silence, for once hating it with every fiber of his being. "What do you want, Amy?"
"I saw you… alone."
He didn't reply.
"Crying."
"I wasn't crying." He still didn't open his eyes. He didn't want to see her. Not this close up. "What would you know, anyway?"
An angry tone: "You don't have to be so mean to me."
"Yeah?" He shot back with one of his own. "And who's gonna make me?"
"I can't believe you're still…" She cut herself short. "Get over it, Miles!"
In that instant, something inside him snapped. Eyes open, he whirled on her and grabbed her by the dress. That damn frilly red thing she always wore. He got up on one knee, and pulled her close. She squeaked, but didn't cry out, and just like that, he was back in control. He saw her then, close up. Amy was afraid, cringing… afraid of him. Did she think…?
Letting go of her, he held his head in his hands and growled. He felt his lips curl over his canines, he felt his claws flex, he felt his blood boil… it wanted release… it wanted it so badly it hurt. Slamming one fist to the ground, he ducked his head, and fought for control. What was this animal inside him that so wanted to be free? That so wanted… to cause pain…? If it wanted a fight, it found one, and Tails fought it tooth and nail, with all the savagery he could muster.
And he won.
For now.
Looking at her, he saw how she was both drawn to comfort him, and afraid to. And not just because of his outburst. He knew she was afraid to give him the wrong idea. Afraid to repeat the mistakes of the past they alone knew. Tails bowed his head.
"I… I'm sorry. I…"
"It's ok," Amy said, quietly. They sat there, for a couple eternal seconds. Tails, now under control, straightened up so that he was facing her properly. He took a deep breath, his chest rising and lowering.
"At least… I didn't break anything." He smiled weakly. "This time."
"Yeah." She seconded.
"I'm sorry about that, you know. I didn't mean…"
Amy quickly nodded.
More silence.
"Tails…?"
He had to face her. Had to get this over with. "Yeah?"
"We used to be friends. I'd… I'd like to be your friend again."
He couldn't help narrowing his eyes.
"I bared…" He took another quick look around. "I bared my heart to you, Amy. Now I'm supposed to go back?"
She used her stern tone again, but made one terrible mistake.
"Miles…"
"Don't call me that!" He yelled, and lowered his voice. "Please don't call me that, Amy. Don't call me Miles."
"I'm sorry." She said, but her tone remained firm. "But you have to get it through your thick head that I love Sonic! Not you."
"Well aren't you the lucky one! You picked the one guy you'll never have!"
That she finally slapped him was not a surprise.
"Make you feel better?" He asked, head still craning away from the path of her blow. "Wanna hit me again?"
"I do," she hissed.
He couldn't bear to look at her anymore, and turned away. Even if it made him look like a coward. He just… couldn't. He instantly regretted everything he had said. Gods, Walkers, he regretted so much of what had passed between them. And it was all his fault. All of it.
"He'll never love you… You'll never love me… " He started to laugh, pitiful sounds gurgling up from the recessed of his soul. "At least Sonic ends up happy. He is the hero. He deserves a happy ending."
"Tails…" She reached for him, and her hand touched his cheek, this time minus the sudden sting. "You used to be so happy. Can't we just go back to being happy again? Both of us? Together?"
"But not … together." He reached up and held her hand in his own. He imagined squeezing, claws digging into flesh… and quickly let go. Both hands fell away and to their respective owners.
"I'm sorry, Tails."
"I used to be sorry." He hated how he was. Hated what he was. Worse, he didn't even know either. "I used to feel sorry."
"You don't anymore?" She asked. "I don't believe that. I don't believe you've stopped caring."
"I have Amy." He slowly stood, and looked down at her. "Forget about me. For what its worth… I never thought this would have happened. For what it's worth, I wish you were happier. But… if you want that… you are going to have to leave. You won't find what you want here. I think we both know that."
Amy closed her eyes, and showing remarkable strength also stood.
"You never told Sonic, did you, Tails?"
He turned his head and 'hmfed'
"Of course not."
"Why?"
"Because… while Sonic loves Sally, I do think he likes you. If he knew… what had happened… he'd have to choose."
Amy frowned. "And you think he'd choose you?"
"I never said that." Tails pivoted until his back was to her. "He still thinks everything is pretty much what it used to be. And… in many respects it is. So he doesn't need to know. And… it is a personal matter. Between us. No one else."
She sniffled and seemed about to say something.
Tails beat her to it. "Goodbye, Amy."
"G… goodbye Tails."
And she left.
He reminded himself that he didn't care.
Sally groaned as the door to her office squeaked open. Whoever spiked the punch at the party last night was going to discover just how big a mistake they'd made. Though, knowing Sonic, it was probably him. At least nothing too embarrassing had happened, beyond it being (more) public knowledge that she couldn't hold her alcohol. At least she'd been able to spend some more time catching up with everyone in the old gang who had sort of drifted apart over the last few months.
Tails closed the door behind him softly and inclined his head in a small bow.
"Sally."
Of course Sonic had spent more time playing video games with Tails than he did talking to her, but that was to be expected. They used to be inseparable, back when Tails was still a junior member of the Freedom Fighter team, and followed Sonic everywhere. Then he started to work on his own pet projects, like the Tornado planes, and when Knothole had to expand… She knew all too well that those two didn't get to spend much time with each other anymore. She had known that would happen, too, back when she had asked Tails to help the cause by devoting his expertise to running the town.
They all had a yearning for those days.
"You can call me Aunt Sally, you know." She willed the cobwebs in her head to clear. It felt like six in the morning, even though she knew it was only twelve or so. First Antoine comes by, feeling sick (she knew how that felt), and now this. On the opposite end of the room, Tails smiled, and she saw the tips of his canines. … Wait: those hadn't been there before, had they? It was hard to remember…
"You're not that much older than I am… Aunt Sally."
She took it as a compliment. "How can I help you, honey?"
"Oh. I was actually supposed to remind you yesterday…" Tails' smile never faded. "Nicole's due to have a little check up, is all. It's been about a year since the last one, so we've got to take a look at her CPU and primary cache, and run her diagnostic program, free up any unneeded space, defrag any damaged clusters…"
The fox started to ramble on, and Sally groaned again.
It was too early for this kind of thing.
"I get the general idea." She pulled open one of her desk drawers, and took out the precious hand held computer. Folded closed, it looked like nothing more than a smooth gunmetal colored case. Very few mobians knew of its existence, and fewer still knew it came from a possible future – a gift from Queen Sally to the younger version of herself.
Tails was one of that select few.
"This won't take long. Aunt Sally." He bowed politely, and was about to leave when the Princess coughed, quickly seizing his attention.
"Have her back by eight, young man."
He chuckled lamely. "Yes, ma'am."
Quickly leaving, and closing the door to the Princess' office behind him again, Tails let out a sigh of relief. Exiting the Town Center, heading east to Rotor's Power Hub, he started to laugh. He'd really almost freaked out for a second there! But now everything was cool. He looked down at Nicole, cradled in his right hand.
"Super cool."
Antoine watched, very carefully.
And at a safe distance.
It wasn't that he was afraid. No: he told himself it wasn't that. He was just being prudent. The Princess hadn't asked questions when he'd told her that he wasn't feeling particularly well, and wanted a day or two off from training the cadets. She was still hung over from Sonic's little 'get together' the night before, and just wanted to sleep and hear as little noise as possible. As a D'Coolette, he took his job at the Academy very seriously. He was proud to teach there.
Even though it kept him from the front.
Partially because it kept him from the front. He'd long ago lost any appetite for carnage or battle. It wasn't because of cowardice, it was … just because the idea of spilling blood no longer appealed to him. Really, it never had. Now he could barely stomach it. So many mobians had died already. Entire races had been wiped off the map. It made him sick just thinking about it… but there was no alternative but to continue to fight and struggle. So he did.
That didn't mean he liked it.
Ostensibly getting some breakfast, he watched his target and tried to look discrete about it. If what he suspected was taking place, this was a serious matter far more important than a few days or even a week of time helping along a handful of recruits. He poured a glass of orange juice extra slowly, but always kept his eyes on Tails. He watched, carefully, as the young two tailed fox sat down gruffly at a wooden table, by himself, looking down at his plate with disgust.
He watched, as the fox, who he still thought of as a boy, spat a bit of bacon out of his mouth, and wiped it with a paper towel, grimacing. He watched, as Tails tried a few more times, and never seemed to keep much of anything down. Finally, just as Antoine was taking his tray to a table (he hadn't decided whether or not to try and join Tails, or sit somewhere else and keep watching), Tails stood up with a snarl, and tightly gripped his plastic tray. It bent slightly in his grip, and for a second, it looked like he was about to throw the whole thing to the side in disgust.
Then…
Tails shook his head, and walked away.
One of the attendants quickly stalked in and took the tray away. Antoine didn't miss the worried look on the little rabbit's face. It mirrored his own. The next day, the two tailed fox skipped breakfast entirely, and Antoine found him in Rotor's new workshop, building something off in a corner. Antoine knew… he knew…
It was obvious when he saw Tails' eyes.
"Yo, Rote!"
The walrus tipped his cap to his fellow engineer. "Tails. How was the party last night?"
Tails' fur bristled. "Good. Pretty good."
"Knux show up?" Rotor went back to his work, fiddling with a power relay. He snapped his fingers, pointed to some cables hanging on a nearby wall, and one of his little helpers ran off to get them.
"Nah." Tails shrugged. "Maybe next time. Rush wasn't there either, so something on Angel Island must be keeping them."
"Haven't seen him in months…"
"Yeah." The vulpine calmly walked by, Nicole still cradled in his right hand. He didn't know if Rotor saw it, but even if he did, Tails was acting confident enough that few questions would be asked. "I'll tell ya who was there, though…"
"Oh?" Rotor asked, wryly. "And who might that be?"
"Rouge the Bat." Tails reached an end of the workshop that Rotor often let him use at his leisure. Tails put Nicole down, and started getting some equipment together. One of Rotor's assistants walked over, in case the fox wanted some help, but Tails waved him off. The Power Hub was alight with the sounds of the mechanical in action. To the outside observer, it no doubt looked like some latter day House of Magic.
"Rouge was there?" Rotor perked up at that news. Still, he kept working, plugging the relay into the cables, and reconfiguring the set up. What he was doing, Tails had no idea. Probably getting ready to run some tests on that power grid problem.
"That she was."
"Did you talk to her?"
Tails barked a dismissive laugh. "Are you kidding? What would Rouge and me, of all people, talk about? We're like oil and water."
"Don't tell me you're shy…"
"Oh please." Tails booted up a diagnostic computer, and swiveled the monitor towards him at a slight angle. "I'm not the one with the hots for her…"
Rotor chuckled, and brushed a trio of long thick whiskers out of the way while he worked. "Whatever, fox boy."
"Besides…" He almost said, 'She was talking to Amy' but stuck to, "She looked busy with other people. I was happy just hanging out with Sonic."
Rotor held off asking what he really wanted to know for all of ten seconds.
"How'd she look?"
"Rouge?" Tails asked, double-checking his set up.
"Who else would I be asking about?"
"I dunno… Bunnie?"
Rotor snorted. "Why you…"
"Chill out, man. I'm just playing with you." Tails started typing at the keyboard, getting the software ready. "She looked good. Her usual color scheme. Pink/white/black catsuit."
Rotor grunted in acknowledgement.
"Hey, Rote. You think her hair's really white? You know: it is her real color, or does she dye it?"
"It's hard to tell… You never see her out of that black catsuit."
"Well, come on." The fox pressed the issue. "Take a guess. True or false?"
"I'd say… true. You?"
"No way. White on apricot? That's not a natural color combo."
"Whatever you say, kid." Rotor winced, and pulled his hand back as the power relay activated. The walrus cursed softly and held his hand. "Damnit! Jacob! … Jacob! You jackass!"
He stormed off.
"Perfect…" Tails quickly loaded up the programs he'd prepared, and went back to Nicole. Flipping her open, he heard the semi-sentient computer activate, and the AI hum to virtual life. The minicomputer's main screen beeped, and scanned him.
"Hello, Tails." It said, in its usual feminine voice. Off hand, Tails wondered if it was programmed to sound like Sally's mother.
"Hello, Nicci." He used his pet name for the little computer. He wasn't sure whether an Artificial Intelligence could be put 'at ease' or not, but it was worth a try. "How are you feeling today?"
"I feel fine, Tails. Accessing System Performance Records..." Nicole's monitor changed to display the CPU usage, memory information, operating programs, and other mundane data. "Is there a problem, Tails? I am not scheduled for a diagnostic until next month."
"I thought it'd be best to get this year's done a little early, while we have the time. Next month looks like it's going to be a hectic one."
"Very well."
He smiled slyly. "I have some new diagnostic equipment and software I'd like to try, too, if that's ok with you."
"It is… ok… with me, Tails."
"Great." He plugged Nicole into the other computer and wondered how she felt about it. It wasn't exactly a serial port, but… she was sentient. Did she like being plugged into other computers? He shook his head. There was no point or purpose to wondering about something like that. What he was going to do was really more of a violation of her personal space than an unwanted plug in her port.
Walkers alive!
That just sounded so … wrong.
"Ok. Here we go. Diagnostic underway. Initiating Sleep Program." He watched as Nicole's CPU usage fluctuated, and her AI 'whole' separated. She'd be back to normal when it was done, but for now… he activated the two modifications he made to the Diagnostic probe. Nicole's fragmented AI quickly separated from the actual database it was normally wound so tightly around. Turning around, he heard Rotor walk back to his workstation, grumbling something under his breath, and go back to work on the Power Relay.
It didn't matter at this point whether he was around or not.
Nicole's voice interface wouldn't be working anyway.
Working quickly, he accessed the data files, and loaded up the dummy operating system. It took a few seconds to establish the read, and displayed the internal architecture of Nicole's data archives. Things were organized in a non-linear, non-consecutive manner… that made normal searching efforts difficult. But it made sense in a way. Nicole was designed to search herself for relevant information, so it was all source and case sensitive. No one was supposed to go nosing around in her guts and sub systems.
He was tempted to play around…
But he had to be mindful of the time limit. Nicole would not know what he had done, but her internal chronometer would be off and she would suspect something was amiss if the diagnostic took longer than expected. He could hack the chronometer, of course… but eventually she'd notice the discrepancy between her time and 'normal' time. No. He didn't have time to try even half the ideas running around in his head. He moved quickly with his primary objective.
Freedom Fighters.
Profiles/Records.
Original FF.
Miles Se'Prower.
"Miles Se'Prower? What the hell?"
A spelling mistake? It seemed unlikely. But there it was. Then again… thinking about it, Tails really wasn't positive how his name was spelled. He just knew his name: Miles Prower. It was the only thing he had from his parents, the only surviving memory from back then. They had taught him to speak, to walk, a few other things, and then they were gone. He didn't clearly remember anything before he was abandoned at the age of three. Not even their faces…
He entered the data folder.
It networked to a bunch of separate, but related, folders.
Among them was his profile. Or profiles. There were three: '32233230,' '32303237' and '3237Present.' That was strange. Why would there be three chronological divisions? He recognized the dates, at least. He was born sometime in 3223 or 3224. He never knew exactly when, and picked a random date as his birthday after Sonic had badgered him to come up with one. The summer of 3230 was when he had gotten involved in that whole Battlebird Armada affair, three years before meeting Sonic on West Island. And 3237 was this year…
This was it!
Soon… soon he'd know…
About to click on the folder for '3237Present' he hesitated. Was this right? He was about to unlock his future, or at least his potential future. Nicole had always made it adamant that they not know their futures. That wasn't her purpose. He had hacked into her and performed this deception because… what? Did he want to know his future or his past? No: he wouldn't know his future. He wouldn't look in that folder.
Even if it was only a 'possible' future.
Even if he was really, really curious what was in there…
"No!" He said it aloud, and forced his attention to turn to the '32233230' folder. That was his past. Some of it he knew, but most of it was a mystery. Surely he deserved that much, right? He had asked Nicole, years ago, if she had any information about his birth and parents. She had denied it then, and he knew now that she had been lying to him. That was the great difference between an AI and a Program.
The AI knew when to make shit up.
He was about to activate the folder, when he wondered what Nicole had been hiding, and more importantly why. It had to have been important. Nicole was inherently helpful, not petty. She wouldn't have not told him unless it was important. Did he really want to do this? Did he really need to know that badly?
"Yes."
Another tense second passed.
"Yes I do." He clicked the folder. "I need to know!"
However, the moment was not his ally. The second his decision was made, the second he clicked the forbidden folder, the system froze. He saw an instant's worth of coded language, and then it was scrambled, and the operating system collapsed. It beeped loudly, and then was silent. Tails gasped, trying in vain to break out of the crash.
"No… No! NO! NO!! Damnit!" Huffing, eyes almost red with rage, he turned to where Nicole still rested, face up next to the frozen computer.
"Please unplug me, Miles."
"So…" He voice was devoid of any warmth or affinity. "Looks like you had a few backups I didn't isolate. You must feel awfully proud."
"I do not feel proud." The little computer said, plainly. Tails took one last long look at her, turned, and slammed his fist into the keyboard with a resounding crash, smashing it into sparking debris. He took a step towards Nicole, ready to repeat the performance, when he remembered where he was. Who he was.
"Tails?" It was Rotor, heading their way. "What happened, man? You ok?"
"…" He took a deep breath, and counted to ten. "The… stupid computer has damaged clusters. Its buggy, that's all. And I kinda lost it."
"I know how you feel…" Rotor put his hand on Tails' shoulder. The fox could almost imagine himself tearing it off, feeling the spray of blood all over his face. Then the terrible thought was gone, back into the recesses of his mind whence it had spawned. Rotor never seemed to notice. "But you can't go smashing stuff like that. This stuff doesn't grow on tress, you know that!"
Tails turned away from him.
"Sorry. I… I need something… I've got one hell of a headache. You think you can give Nicole back to Sally for me?"
"Wha? Nicole?" Rotor only then seemed to notice what was going on. "I thought the diagnostic was next month."
"I… thought I'd get it out of the way today."
Rotor's face showed deep concern.
"Alright. I'll take 'er home. You get some shuteye or something. I think you've been pushing yourself a little too hard. Especially for…"
"Thanks." Tails stopped the walrus before he could finish that sentence. "… Pal."
Running.
She'd almost forgotten just how annoying it actually was to have to run to places. Not that she minded a brief jog or a long walk in the park or anything, but running across miles of desert, miles of volcanic wasteland, and miles of rolling grassland got old. Fast. There weren't even any obstacles to make the trip interesting. Just run run run run run. And she still had sand in her shoes! At least for the time being…
Once she could Chaos Control again, Lara-Su swore that every single granule of sand still clinging to her body or her clothes would be sent on a one way trip to low orbit!
Finally, finally, she had reached Hydropolis. Long ago, it had been a vast waterworks feeding the great settlements of Downunda. It still processed much of the water on Angel Island, though much of it was useless and reclaimed by erosion. Many of the once vast reclaimed lands, the results of careful impoldering, were re-flooded. Only a few years ago, Robotnick had used the territory as a base of operations (like he did much of Angel Island), and in the process he had repaired many of the failing systems and restored much of their functionality. Of course he had done it for his own purposes, in the interest of feeding water and power to the Launch Base Zone by Azure Lake, but now it was in the hands of its native sons and daughters.
Hydropolis was the second largest city on the island, after Echidnapolis, and before Marble Garden City. It was more sprawling than the former, but more urbane than the latter. Hydropolis was a hub for commerce, and had naturally developed something of a cosmopolitan or even bohemian air. The city itself resembled the twisted lovechild of a waterpark and an urban center, with crystal clear canals flanked by growing skyscrapers and corporate offices still under construction.
It also had a state of the art City University.
Walking across the campus, Lara took a moment to stare up at the moon and the star lit sky. Without meaning to, she reached up to touch the chaos emerald embedded in her chest. This wasn't her first visit… or maybe it was her first, depending on how you looked at time, and if this wasn't a parallel dimension. To the point: she remembered being here before, but it had always been with him.
It was funny, in a way, to walk with him and pretend he was someone and something he wasn't. Disguised as a student, and an echidna, he had insisted on personally attending a lecture held by one of his Dark Legion colleagues: a Doctor Finetavius. Or was it "Finitevus?" She'd naturally found it odd that Miles, a being of chaos energy, would want to go to an academic conference about chaos energy… but he was quirky like that, and she'd come along to both keep him company and try and learn a little more about herself.
One night, he'd left to take a walk and clear his mind, and he'd asked if she wanted to join him. That moment, that silent walk together under the stars, was what she remembered most vividly from that entire four day long conference. It helped that she wasn't a scientific savant and hadn't had years of training in obscure super-science. However, that wasn't to suggest that she hadn't learned anything from the little trip.
Slipping into the high security lab had been easy, even without a serious use of her chaos powers. Breaking and entering wasn't too tough, not compared to trying to remember what she had to do next. The University's experimental physics department had machinery and equipment she'd seen many times before in Miles' labs, so it only took a couple minutes to figure out how to turn things on and identify which equipment she actually needed.
Sure that the security systems weren't operational, Lara got to work.
There was no doctor to go to and ask, "Hey, Doc, am I from this dimension?" Well, there WAS, but he was in Robotropolis trying to take over the world and enslave all organic life on the planet. So Lara wasn't confident he'd be able to fit her in for an appointment. There were a few other options too, but none of them convenient, especially given the risk of polluting the timeline. Not that she cared about making changes to parallel worlds, but having been involved in time travel before, she knew not to (ironically) kill her father with, say, a blast of chaos energy.
That was a Bad Idea.
So she had to take care of things herself. She'd determined before breaking into the lab that the inhabitants of this world thought they were in the year 3237. Now she needed to confirm whether it was her 3237 or not. Just checking for historical or cultural details wasn't enough to guarantee an answer either way. The only sure fire way would be to analyze her chaos waveform and compare it to the ambient chaos waveform of the planet.
Lara wasn't exactly sure what that meant, but then again, she wasn't sure how to build a computer, either. But she could use one. She could even beat it at Minesweeper. Needless to say, she had serious skills. Isolating the waveform wasn't as easy as she'd initially hoped, though, mostly due to the fact that the machine they used needed multiple people to operate. She made due by taking staggered readings and compiling them.
The resulting waveform itself was as long and complex as her genetic code.
Or about as complex as a high order Artificial Intelligence.
Luckily, it was well within the computational capabilities of the lab's paired supercomputers and specialized software. It already had the ambient waveform on file, so the first thing she did was run a cross reference. She hadn't slept much beyond a brief catnap back in the Sandopolis ruins (damn ghosts), so while the computer ran the analysis, she caught a few winks of shuteye. She still had a few hours before morning.
Waking up, she confirmed (with no small amount of annoyance) that she was, in fact, in the past AND on her normal world. Something had gone wrong with that last Chaos Control, and it had sent her back a few years. It wasn't altogether unexpected. Some form of Chaos Control accounted for how she ended up with the emerald in her chest, how she ended up in the past (before traveling even further into the past), and a lot of other things in her life. Something that important… it paid to be aware and informed.
So: she was in the past. Again.
There was no point grumbling about it; instead, Lara quickly went to work identifying if it was safe to try and Chaos Control again. Things would be far easier if her full abilities were safe to use, and if they didn't just keep catapulting her back and back until she ended up in the First City hanging out with Mammoth Mogul. First, she used Chaos Control on several objects, and then she ran an analysis on these objects. There was always the possibility of a time dilation that was variable by intensity or mass.
Several hours confirmed that her attempts at Chaos Control had no serious side effects. The lab rat had tried to pee on her, but that was probably only natural. She'd never heard of Chaos Control causing incontinence. Basically, everything seemed to be working perfectly fine. Which brought up the question of what kicked her into the past in the first place? Location? Some external anomaly? That, she couldn't answer.
Cleaning up the data, deleting the records and vaporizing the print outs, Lara finished covering her tracks and snuck back out. Night had turned into early morning, and already she could see students shuffling to classes and the occasional Professor heading off to work. Many came by canal, as was fashionable in Hydrocity, or by some other form of public transport. Lara played the part of a student herself, politely nodding to a Professor, and smiling coyly at a somewhat cute boy with a backpack. She was in her late teens, and she'd been told (by Fiona, to her chagrin) that she was attractive "by echidna standards at least." It wasn't terribly hard to blend in… once she'd hidden the emerald in her chest and the white fur coloration around her collar that was her guardian crest.
"What to do now?" she wondered, stopping and sitting on a bench under a broad oak tree. "Contact the Brotherhood? I could… but knowing my grandfathers and great grandfathers, they'd probably try and pick my brain for information about the future. Plus, it'd be a little too tempting to try and warn them about the fall of Haven. I probably shouldn't mess around with the timeline… though it may not matter too much if I find a way to get back."
Previous experiences had taught her that changes to a timeline didn't instantaneously translate upstream. The only way to change the future for oneself was to go back, make the change, and wait around and see what happened. Or something like that. Certainly none of her previous attempts to change the past ever fixed her future… and didn't the act of just being in the past change it?
Despite being a time traveler herself, it still hurt her head to think about it too much.
"What to do?" she asked again. Logically, there were at least two options to get back to the point in time she left. The first option was to find a way to time travel back. Yeah: it was easier said than done. The second option was actually very easy. Just find a nice spot and wait. Dull, maybe, but doable.
Then there was the third option:
And so Lara-Su followed her instincts.
He watched, nervously, as Tails stormed out of the workshop.
Antoine had been watching the boy on and off for several days, even before the party. His eyes had been getting darker and darker, more and more… feral. Savage looking. Then there were the outbursts of anger, and bouts of depression and sulking, the reclusive and paranoid stalking around, especially at night… And his eating habits. For almost three years Antoine had known him and suspected what he was, but said nothing.
There was no way to be sure.
And so what if he was? The boy would not want to associate with his people. Not Tails. Worse: what if the revelation caused the boy to leave? Antoine knew everyone would justifiably hold him responsible. So he justified not telling the young fox the truth because he was not yet at the age of consent. Only then would he tell, and only then would he be blameless… because leaving would be the boy's decision and not his.
Not his.
A few more days. Just a few more.
Tails had control over the situation. In fact, in an optimal scenario, he would work through the… phase on his own. It would come and go, and he would become one of 'them,' but still also be one of 'us.' A sort of best of both worlds deal. The only alternative would be telling him and driving him mad with the truth, or locking him up in a cell and waiting things out. … Or throwing him out of the city. And Antoine knew that no one who knew the boy since he was little would ever accept that as a viable strategy. Still, very soon the others would begin to suspect something was wrong.
It was best to draw at least some attention to this.
But only as much as necessary.
"A little longer…" Antoine whispered. "Just a little longer, mon ami…"
Miles away, a similar thought echoed the Freedom Fighter's.
"I've wasted too much time…"
From behind the cover of a thick forest oak, a hidden figure surveyed the town of Knothole. It had taken him much longer than expected to locate the place, but slipping through its meager patrols and defenses hadn't been too difficult. In fact, many of the patrols had been outright lax in covering their tracks. One group had even joked that they hadn't seen combat in weeks.
Tempest had little trouble infiltrating the thick woods around the area. He was close, and he knew it. Less than an hour after sneaking past the first patrol, he was all but there. From where he stood, he could easily make out a corner of the town – or maybe a low lying city - built around a ring-like central lake, and divided into quarters. It hugged the forest very closely, especially considering its density and population.
After finding it, he retreated to the highest local point, and mentally mapped out the entire place. He hadn't seen the boy, but the fox could smell his own. He was in there somewhere, mixed in among the other mobians. A swarm of different scents from at least a dozen different breeds assailed his nose. This hidden hamlet was certainly a melting pot, despite its isolation. Tempest had never encountered any place so… diverse. It was off-putting.
Still… once found, its defenses were meager.
There were only about twenty or so guards on patrol at any one time on the outer perimeter of the city proper, and twenty more covering a wide and rolling area around the town for little more than two miles. Not only was their training somewhat suspect, but so was their equipment. None even carried infrared. But this fit in with what he suspected this was: some sort of secret base. Or secret city, anyway. Not only was its best defense stealth, but its only real defense was stealth. And despite accomplishing that feat quite well, it was small by the standards he had come to expect from Southerners.
It was both a surprise and a disappointment that the boy was here.
The stranger resolved himself to his mission, his thoughts bitter at what he saw and smelt. 'To think the poor boy's been here all along… Probably has ties to this place, too. I'll have to try and remedy that problem...'
Keeping to the edge of Knothole, and among the trees, he sniffed the air, and soon found what he was looking for. Around to one side was a small pool, isolated from the rest of the village. The buildings here were older, and of a different style. If he had to guess, it would be that the compound was some sort of imperial retreat or residence. There was a remarkable lack of opulence, though, which made him wonder about his initial assessment. But there was little need to delve into the city planning of Southerners. There! The crouching figure peered closely, making completely sure. It would do no good to reveal himself too quickly.
Yes.
Yes!
It had to be him!
By the Source, life was easier with Chaos Control.
It had never been her style to try and do fancy things with it, like walking out of shadows or through walls or making portals. Lara used it to get around and to fight. Everything else, she tried to keep simple. At the present, she knew exactly where she wanted to be, though less to the point of why she felt the need to be there.
Maybe it was inspiration.
That sounded good: inspiration. It was as good an excuse as any.
Much better than implying she was lonely, scared, or desperate for some way to get back home. The emerald that boosted her natural powers as a child of the Guardian line meant she really had little to fear from most of the world, but at the same time, that power could potentially shine like a beacon and attract the attention of the one or two beings that could cause her trouble. And by trouble, she meant: destroy her and pick their teeth with her soul. Best to avoid those chaps for the time being, even if (in her own time) she called one of them an ally.
Inspiration.
"So… inspire me…" she whispered, sneaking around the side of a building to peek at the scene near the ring pool. She could feel, even before she saw, the two sources of chaos energy nearby. Ideally, one or both would trigger some sort of response in her own chaos emerald. It was a pretty shady plan, but similar things had happened before with other emeralds. She fondly remembered burning a certain evil Chao in her hand, for instance…
Nothing immediately obvious happened.
Lara narrowed her eyes, and focused on her self-camouflage. Fiona was better at it, since she was sneaky by nature (or rather 'design'), but Lara had practice in it, too. The trick was to both conceal your presence and cloud the perceptions of those nearby. Two of which included a young Miles Prower, and a slightly older Princess Sally Acorn. Oddly, the latter seemed to be combing the hair of the former. The scene almost made her giggle.
"Something funny?"
Lara's eyes widened.
"Hmm? I asked if you saw something funny, Lara."
She had a voice in her head.
And it wasn't the normal voice in her head either; Tikal seemed to be AWOL for some reason. This one sounded like Miles. Confusion met relief. He'd found her!
"About time you caught up to me," she thought back. "Pardon the pun."
"… I appreciate the sentiment, but it is you who caught up to me."
"Huh? Whatd'ya mean by that?"
"I have only a theory at the moment. Remain where you are."
Lara did, keeping herself hidden. She trusted Miles, absolutely and unswervingly. He would explain things when he was sure about them, and then he'd find a way to bring her back home.
"Tails… your hair is a complete mess! A total disaster area!" Sally tugged at the comb, but found it was firmly entrenched in one of Tails' tails. "This… won't come out!"
"Pull harder." Tails held the base of his tail tightly. He was glad this was done as far from the general population as was convenient. It was unbelievable! Knots in his tails! That sort of thing had never happened before. The awkwardness of having to comb out his own tails, and the apparent suspicions Sally had developed over his recent behavior (what had Nicole told her?) had led him to the conclusion that the best thing to do was let her help… at least in some way.
Sally strained, but ultimately failed. "Tails… this is impossible…"
"Keep trying!" He urged. "You almost had it out that time!"
"It's just not working… we'll have to cut it…"
Sally reached over for her scissors, lying threateningly on a nearby rock.
"What?" Tails yelped, and started to back away from her, snapping his precious tails out of her grasp. "Sally… Aunt Sally… you can't be serious! You aren't, are you?"
"It's just an inch or two, honey." Sally's words were reassuring, but the scissors in her right hand were not. "They'll look fine in a few days, I promise…"
Tails pointed at her, growing less and less comfortable with this situation.
"Now listen here, they're MY tails, and…"
"Tails!" Sally stomped her foot. "You get back here right now. They need a trim!"
"You'll do no such thing, woman!" The scissors were suddenly out of her hands, and in those of someone behind her.
"Who?" Sally turned, and saw only dark black fur, filling her entire vision.
Standing back, readying herself for a fight (rare was the time when someone dropped in and didn't start trouble) she finally saw him. He was fairly tall, over a full head and a half closer to the heavens; but that wasn't adequate enough description. Like Drago and most other canine Mobians, he was large and muscular. Unlike those other canine mobians, however, his chest and shoulders were colored a shade of tan matched only by his arms and legs… her mind instantly analyzed him as an opponent and as a threat. She'd beaten stronger and larger opponents before. He seemed unarmed, wearing only a studded belt with a few small pouches, but that was her only consolation. He was a hand and a half taller than Drago, and her instincts blared a loud warning.
She was about to reach for her weapon, when she realized…
She had none.
"You…!" Tails cried, and she saw him pointing at something. "You have…!"
She followed it, and saw his tail. It was a fox's tail, but… but… as it moved, she saw two black tips. After a second, it became more obvious from her point of view. This fox had two tails! They were thickly furred and looked somewhat rougher in texture than those on Tails, though the same color (except at the ends). Examining this revelation more carefully, she noted that the thinker, coarser fur (a slightly different shade than the soft tan over most of his body) traveled up all the way around his sides and back up to his neck. His hair was unruly - wild - until it met his shoulders and evened out into the rest of his body.
Looking back up, trying to look dignified, she met his gaze, and it was cold. His eyes were chips of black ice, matched by a frown, and set on a face so similar … and yet so much… harsher, it shocked her. Who was this fox? Where had he come from? Why was he here? A dozen questions tongue-tied her. Adding to her confusion, instead of starting a fight, the two tailed fox turned the scissors around and held them out.
"The boy's hair must express itself. Cutting will only aggravate it," he explained slowly, as if she was only a small child. "Are you his Keeper?"
"W… What? Wait! Just who are you and what are you doing here?" Sally backed up, but bumped into Tails. Strangely, the young fox was just standing there, staring at the new comer's torso - and tails. By the look on his face, Sally could tell he was thinking. Probably of the possibilities.
She frowned, but tried to not make it look crass.
"The boy… he hides behind you like a frightened whelp." The newcomer tilted his head slightly. "I am here on behalf of Clan Turo, of Clan Vidar. My family is Taima. My name is Tempest."
It was an unusual greeting that threw Sally for a momentary loop.
"I'm here to take the boy back home."
That, however, provoked an immediate response.
"Now wait just a second!" Sally walked up to the fox, and, on her toes, almost managed look him straight in the eyes. "Tails is one of us! If you think you can just walk in here and take him, you've got another thing coming."
"One of us? He isn't your breed." The Fox sniffed the air briefly. "I have given you my titles. What are yours?"
"Acorn," she said with total authority. "Crown Princess Acorn. Of the Line of Kings." She paused, and added, "Heir to the Golden Throne of Acorns, Duchess of Mercia, and…" Almost out of titles, she remembered one last vague one. "Despotate of Dingoland. You can call me Sally."
Tempest snorted loudly, nostrils flaring. "Well! The Crown Princess… This is a surprise! Still. You have no right to raise him. He is clearly not yours."
"H... h…How dare you…!"
The fox grinned and bowed his head just enough to be polite, in gesture at least. "I mean no outstanding offense, but you are not fit to raise this boy. I have heard of the Family Royal in the south, and have no immediate quarrel with you. But…"
His hands flexed, palm upwards. For obvious reasons, he had no gloves – though the middle finger on his right hand carried a plain black ring. Claws, at first appearing as small nails, unfurled to a wicked and curved edge.
"I will not hesitate…" he continued to speak, his tone measured, "…To rend you… limb from limb… if it becomes necessary. We are not your people. We never shall be. And the shadows shall fall over sacred places the day one of our own kneels to … Prey, like yourself. Hand the boy over, or I will take him."
"Why, you…" Sally was torn between yelling for help and actually trying to fight. Fortunately, the situation never came to a head.
"Aunt Sally. Calm down." Tails walked forward, between the two. "Let him explain. I want to hear this. Tempest, is it? Please explain yourself."
"Miles…" The older fox looked down at him, eyes examining and measuring all the while. "You were lost more than a decade ago. I am here to return you to the Northlands and your Clan."
"This is Tails' home!" Sally interrupted.
"Miles' home is with his people, not among these… 'Tahs… these Prey." Tempest growled but quickly refocused on the younger fox and not the hothead Royal. "Besides… you wouldn't want him around soon, anyway. He's halfway through the Turan'ha. If I had come three days from now, you'd be begging me to take him back to his people. Provided you still had use of your throat."
"Oh? So that's Tempest?" Lara asked, in thought.
"That's right. You two never met."
"Sounds like a nice guy."
Was that sarcasm in her thoughts? Oh, yes. It was.
"Hmm," the Miles' in her head made a soft thoughtful sound. "A matter of perspective, Lara. Imagine a human in his place. Would he act very different?"
"That's not saying much. The humans hate us."
"You see my point."