Chapter 22

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"Drink it."

Agnes briefly looked down through her tear filled eyes at the mug of tea that Ash had given her.

"Or don't," he said, sitting down on a couch next to her. They were in the nurses room, sitting down in muted shock, trying to process what was going on. The nurse herself was sitting nearby and dealing with a pig who'd had an incident with a porcupine. She'd started to talk with them only to get nowhere, the vixen largely unresponsive before asking her to leave her alone. After that, Agnes had just sat there, shaking slightly.

"We're going to get him out," Ash said, taking a drink of his grape soda, the pangolin nurse breaking from her operation to scowl at him. She'd insisted on checking that it was treated to be canid safe, even though all processed food and drink generally were (with potentially dangerous foodstuffs having massive warning signs), yet she was still wary. "My kidneys feel fine," he muttered, turning back to the vixen. "We know that he didn't do it…"

"But he's in prison," she whispered, turning to look up at him.

"Yes. It's not fair, we're working on it. You'll get your boyfriend back."

…

"He's not my boyfriend."

Ash blinked. "What, did you two break up?"

"He's in prison, Ash! Prison!"

The fox tod frowned. "Do you think he wants to be there?"

"I'm not sure anyone does…"

"And you can go and visit him. Besides, how many times do I have to say it. We're going to clear his name! Then he'll be out and you two can carry on being girlfriend and boyfriend. Happily ever after, the end."

The vixen's teeth gritted and she shook her head. "You don't get it! He's been to prison, even if he was innocent he's been with them, he'll…" She broke off, head dropping into her paws as she clutched herself, hard.

Ash looked on, blinking. "So even though he did nothing wrong, you're going to abandon him?"

"I don't want to, but it's too late now, it's…"

"-Did someone you know go there?" he asked. "Did they change, for the worse, is that what you're scared of?"

"Nobody I know has ever been there," she said. "But that's what will happen, he'll… he'll change or, and I can't…"

"You will!" Ash shot back, angrily. The nurse glanced up at them, giving them a look before turning back to her own injured charge. "You will as you're his girlfriend."

"I… -we're in highschool," she justified. "I… It's a dumb highschool romance, it's not supposed to be crazy but… but now it is and that wasn't supposed to happen, I wasn't asking for it."

"Do you even love him!?"

"Yes!"

"So... -Girl up and do something."

"But…"

"No buts!" Ash scolded. "If it was him in your place, would he just leave you alone in there? Or abandon you even when your name is cleared and you get out?"

"I… I mean I'd expect it, but maybe not from him, I don't know! I don't know anything…"

"And how would it make you feel?" he asked, "getting dumped like that, after every other scary thing."

"I'd be sad, but…"

"-You know what," Ash spoke, looking down. "I don't care that you dumped me."

Her ears went back as she blinked. "That's… this isn't about…"

"I didn't say it was," he said.

"I mean maybe, if Kris is gone, I guess…"

"-No, no, no, no…" He cut her off, his tail swishing hard behind him. He scowled down at her. "I wouldn't even want you back after all this. I remember being told that if you dumped me, you weren't worth it anyway, and right now I think that's right. Boyfriends look after girlfriends and girlfriends look after boyfriends, that's what they do. Maybe you say you never signed up for this, but maybe that's you, just dropping out at the hardest times and coasting on the easy. Kris wouldn't do that, he'd be there for you all the way through, not that I think you deserve it. After all, I was right about you."

"Right? How?"

Ash kept a cold, level, piercing gaze on her. "You're not loyal."

He leant in, took her tea back (she didn't deserve it), and sat down, keeping away from her as she cried a bit. He'd wanted to comfort her but he was just angry now… He'd have understood it if she'd known someone who'd gone to jail and come back bad, maybe she thought that would happen to Kris. But why? Why did she think that? After all, Kris was Kris. Or did she think that him being a natural would also include being a natural at crimes?

"Why do you think prison will change him?"

"I… It's just what it does… Prison changes people, and he's a kit, and…"

"And he's Kris," Ash spoke, turning to face her. "Do you really think that he'll come out of there angry, violent, into crime and stuff?"

Her mouth opened and her ears were back and she looked like a deer stuck in headlights as she gave an ever so slight nod.

"Oh come on. It's Kris," Ash spoke, slumping back down in his seat. "Do you know what he'll be doing right now? He'll be trying to help out. Trying to be the model prisoner. He'll be teaching others meditation, and helping the kids who killed their father reconnect with their mother or things like that. But do you know what he'll also be doing?"

"No…"

"He'll be crying."

She blinked. "He doesn't really cry…"

"He does when he's alone," Ash said, looking away and thinking back to their first night together, when Kris was a stranger and he was a jerk. "When he's scared. When he's lonely. When he thinks that nobody around cares for him."

Agnes was silent, wiping her tears slightly. "I… But him coming back, it sounds scary…"

"Like he wasn't before?"

"Huh. He wasn't..."

"You do realise he knows karate," he said. He knew – he'd seen it once, and he'd resolved to never pick a physical fight with him until his growth spurt hit and carried him up to wolf size.

"Yes. But he's with criminals, in prison, when he gets out he might start using it more, and…"

"-Do you think he'd ever use it on you?"

…

"I… I don't know."

Ash closed his eyes and shook his head, groaning in frustration. "Are you just scared of all this, and mammals coming out of prison, and Kris being changed there, for no real reason other than that you're scared of it?"

"Yes!"

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…

Ash breathed out, looking at her. "Do you want that to not be the case," he spoke. "So you're not scared of him and, when he comes back all the same, you two can pick up where you left off?."

"Yes," she sniffed. "But I just know that he will be different when he gets out. I just know it."

"Maybe… Maybe you can stop that from happening. You can phone him, maybe even visit him with us, and be there to just… just remind him not to change, okay?"

…

"I… Visiting sounds scary… But I'll… Is there a number I can call?"

Ash sighed. "I don't know. But his father might! Give me your phone, I'll put his number in."

"Okay," she said, sighing in and handing it over. Taking out his own phone, Ash copied the number and entered it in. All the while, he remembered the mission he was on.

"Have you seen Maisy around?"

"No," she said, shaking her head.

"Hmmm, maybe she texted back," he said, going out of the contents page and into the messages folder.

"Might have?" she asked, looking over.

Ash nodded and looked in, pressing down. There was the text that Agnes had sent her on that last day of normality, when they were in the park enjoying themselves. Nothing had been returned after.

"I guess not," she said, taking the phone back.

Ash nodded, looking down and remembering what he'd just read. A great big mention of Nick and Judy, making it clear that they were the Nick and Judy. Potentially, Agnes' text had been the first hit of the domino chain, ending up with Kris' current predicament. Ash could tell her that, explaining it all, but he chose not too…

He flinched as he felt a paw on his knee, flexing on and off, gripping it tight in tune with her slight sobs. Ash put his paw on top of hers and held it. He thought back to what he'd said, about what would Kris be doing right now. He'd believed it.

He wondered though. How was life really going for his cousin?

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The lessons were…

Lessons.

Kris wasn't sure if there was any other real way of describing them. After the exercise session, all the prisoners were led into the schooling block and split up, going to where they needed to go. He'd been given a timetable and followed it, sitting down to do some maths work that he'd done over a year before. They were given instructions, he went through it swiftly, before double checking them and raising his paw.

"Right," the teacher, a zebra, groaned. "What do you need help with?"

"Nothing," he said. "I'm done."

The teacher paused. "Right, just… Skip through there until you find something you haven't done."

Kris did just that, getting to the end of the book and shrugging.

"I'll ask them to stick you up a year," the teacher said. Kris nodded, only for his ears to raise as he heard someone facepawing. "Who was that?" he asked, looking around before settling on a sable antelope from a different block. The perpetrator shrugged, giving a look of mock innocence but otherwise radiating guilt. The teacher, not impressed, got him to write the workings and answers on the board. Two guards stood in the room, silently observing, so it wasn't like he had much choice.

Later, when leaving the lesson, he walked up to him. "Yo, you new here?"

"Yes."

"Okay," he said, looking around. "Only telling you this as none of the herd from my block are here, but don't ask to go up."

"Why not?"

"-Didn't you read the rules? Good grades means better rewards. You coulda' coasted it like me, but no… You're going on to new stuff."

"So you know this stuff?"

"No," he said. "But it's easy and I can coast it. Better gettin' an A+ every time and full rewards than strugglin' to get B's and C's, you hear?"

"I think so," he replied. "But I'm certain I covered next year too."

"So stay there, partner," he said as they turned a corner, another line of mammals walking past. Kris glanced at them before being knocked to his side without warning. "-Stupid pelt!" the antelope cursed, Kris looking up, muscles tensing into a fighting position, only to pause as he saw him winking. He put his hooves up, glanced behind him, before looking down. "Sorry. Members of my herd. Keepin' up appearances. We never talked, clear?"

"Clear," Kris said, as the two split. He remembered what Timofey said, many in 'the herd' didn't hate preds, they just wanted protection. Messy politics, but if he could just keep his head down, he could handle it.

After that came a generic science lesson, not really specialising in the subjects. It was mostly chemistry and, apart from one joker who was forced to stand in the corner after asking whether they'd learn how to make meth, it went fine. Incredibly unchallenging work, but Kris didn't complain. The way he thought about it, he could either optimise his strategy for either a short or long term stay. He tried to focus on the former, pushing the possibility of the latter as far out of his mind as he could.

The final lesson before lunch turned out to be a stark reminder of where he was. They were doing a history lesson on the Roman Empire, and how they moved and settled different species across Europe for different jobs, creating the mix of species known today. Horse couriers pulling wagons along the roads; armies of lions from North Africa and wolves from Europe; elephants from Carthage building roads, bridges, cities and even Hadrian's wall; pawed mammals, pred and prey, firing ballistas or riding on top of war horses and elephants, shooting arrows. Then came a worksheet, various important species listed, the students describing what critical role they played.

All had been good, up until the teacher asked for volunteers to come up and speak. A bison stood up and, selecting the wolves, spoke out. "Wolves didn't do anything for them! They're savage idiots who…"

"Down, now!" she ordered.

"-were worthless slaves at most, like all preds here! You're just ramming pred propaganda down our throats." He smiled and threw up his hooves, as a gang of other prey mammals cheered him on.

The teacher, a bear, growled. "Stand in the corner, we'll have a word after class."

"What," he mocked. "For telling the truth?"

Kris looked on, noticing that some of the other preds in the room were glaring at him, more growls beginning to rise.

The teacher looked up at one of the guards and nodded. "Take him out."

"Come on," she said, as Kris noticed that it was Sarrahson.

"Oh, what's the mean kitty gonna do?"

"I have a TASER and I don't want to use it," she warned. "I don't like paperwork. Now get out you filth."

"Look who's talking," he mocked, as she growled.

"Paws out."

"Oh what if I don't, Chomper," he mocked, putting them up.

She grumbled. "Three…"

Kris guessed that he was just coaxing it out as long as he could, teasing them.

"You're just a worthless savage."

"Two…"

"Wish you'd got darted."

"One," she said, as he put down his paws, only to be whacked across the head by a flying book.

"Dart yourself prick!" a lion roared, raising his fist. Other preds screamed out, chucking their books too, and the bison turned and charged, screaming, only to crash down as a buzz rang out. Sarrahson was on him, cuffing his hooves behind his back while the other guards waved their stick at his prey buddies. The teacher meanwhile ran over and grabbed the lion's paw, holding him while screaming at everyone to put their paws on their desk.

Kris' heart beat fast as he did just that, his eyes fixed on Sarrahson as she and a rhino guard pulled the slur-spilling, explanative yelling bovid up. "Okay," she hissed. "Now I have to do paperwork." She glanced over, her furious gaze briefly hitting Kris before it flicked up slightly, mellowing as she saw the teacher, paws on the lion. "He threw that?"

"It's nothing… I'll deal with him," she said.

The serval relaxed. "Okay, good," she said, turning as he led the bison out.

…

"So," the teacher began, hauling the lion up and staring at him. "You can tell us all your answers, before writing them up in essay form for next time."

Somehow, Kris thought, he didn't mind.

After that they all went back to their cell blocks, Kris filing in as the announcement came in. They'd be going in last. A collection of groans went out, as he settled down by the Pack table. Timofey, busy shuffling a deck of cards, looked at him. "You know poker?"

"The basics, yes."

The bear gestured to a nearby vending machine. "Get some M&M, we play."

Kris did just that, scanning the barcode on his nametag and pausing when he saw he had fifty dollars in his account. His finger hovered over the button. "Thanks dad…" he said, suddenly feeling a soft comfort knowing that he really wasn't alone, his friends and family really were out there, doing their best and…

"Get on with it!"

He jolted, turning down to see the pup, Matt, standing there next to him. Kris did just that, getting his bag, before it was the pup's turn. He scanned his card and pressed the button before pulling back, blinking. He pressed it again, and again, then banged the whole thing. "Work!"

"Calm down Matt," Kris said, leaning down and holding his arms. He looked at it and frowned. "You don't have any money in there."

"But why do you?"

"My Dad gave me some."

"I… That's not fair. Your dad isn't a useless flea bag!"

"No… he's not," Kris replied, not sure how to react to that.

Matt's ears went down, before going up again. "My mom will put more on! She will.. Then I'll be okay."

"You will be," he said, turning down and reassuring the pup. Matt looked up and stepped back.

"Why are you nice to me?"

"You seem scared. I thought I could help you."

"But you're in prison. You're a criminal!"

Kris flinched back. "Yeah, but I'm not supposed to be here. I'm innocent, and my Dad and my friends are trying to get me out."

"I'm innocent too!" he said, "and my Mom will get me out. I know it, I really do!"

"Right," he said, nodding. He took a chance and held his paw forward. "Tell you what, if you're scared or worried, you can talk to me. I'll try and help you. Does that sound good?"

The little wolf looked up at him and frowned, taking a step back before pausing. "No tricks."

"No tricks."

Tentatively, the pup leaned forward and grabbed his paw, shaking it. "Can I have some?" he asked, pointing at the bags.

"If I win any, you can have those."

"Win?"

"We're playing a game…"

"-Can I play!?"

"Do you know how to play poker?"

"...-Can I watch?"

"We'll see," Kris said, as he led the pup back to the table. The other members of the pack turned to him and frowned, before Timofey held them off with a paw.

"He stays quiet, he can watch," he said, as they dealt and played on. Kris whispered some of the basics to him as he went, winning some, losing some, but generally being successful. As they walked off to lunch, Kris gave Matt the snacks, Timofey turning to him. "I wanted to speak earlier, but we speak in evening. Okay?"

"Okay," Kris agreed, turning to Matt, who was following close behind. "You'll have to leave us alone for that."

The wolf nodded as they joined the lunch line, Kris not sure what the options would be. In the end, the pizza was all gone, but the preds had a choice between a rather dry looking grub pie (baked in a massive tray with a single sheet of pastry over the top), a vegetable lasagne and a dal curry with rice and cheap naan-like bread (other options were available, but often included grasses and hay). Kris went for the curry, Timofey the pie (which was helped along by a massive serving of mustard) and Matt the lasagne (with lots of ketchup). Sides and desserts were also taken and they and the pack sat down on their table to eat, trading here and there before it was time to move on again, the next part of the day starting.

Were he at his school, he'd be looking forward to going home, meeting with his dad again.

He thought back to him, his eyes ever so slightly misting up.

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Dr Silverfox sighed, massaging his head with his paws as he looked on at his emails, up and displayed on his home computer. He'd returned home, needing some time to think, and so he could be back near his son's room, trying to feel some of him…

He wished that he was doing more, even as he knew that he was doing the best he could. The ambassador had stated that, though they couldn't do anything firm about the current situation, they could try and add additional diplomatic pressure. Behind the States and Japan, Canidea was Zootopia's largest trading partner amongst other things. Talks could be put up with the mayor, about the whole issue of the laws themselves.

That was another thing.

The Nighthowler Act could be repealed if the politicians wanted it to be. After seeing the interview in the morning from Aurelia Canidae, he'd made sure to contact her. Yes: She'd co-sponsored and promoted the bill in order to reassure preds after the whole situation was over. Yes: She confessed that she'd originally envisioned it being used to mop up the laggards of Bellwether's plot and any imitators. Yes: She'd imagined them as sheep. No: That wasn't ovinophobic as that, quote: 'fat tub of lard' said so. No: In no way was it meant to be used against a child.

However, for the big question at the heart of this exchange was a very political answer: Depending on public opinion. For all she knew, the public were happy for this tough justice to be extended to preds and juveniles, or they were appalled. In principle, though, she did support putting through an amendment; one that would mean he'd be released and under monitoring until any charging and trial date.

Of course, with applied political pressure from one side and public pressure from the other, things should be getting a move along. Those two fennecs were insistent that they'd be getting a lot of mammals together, ready to protest his son's imprisonment the next day. That wasn't counting all those stoked up by that Ewetuber he'd had an interview with the day before. A message Pounceheart had left him not too long before had said that support was very strong, and that it could be the start of a series of such things. Each one breaking onto the news and drawing more in. He crossed his fingers, he crossed them hard.

Small steps, he told himself. Get him out first, then focus on the long legal battles. Peter Refu was nice and likely competent, but damn it his son was going to get the big guns defending him. He'd already sent out requests to some of the most police-hated mammals in the city (as recommended by Nick and Judy): Sam Burmowitz, Vern Rodenberg, Eric Badge and Delilah O'Possum (the latter unrelated to his brother in law's marsupial dogsbody)…

Of course, now came the long wait for replies.

A long wait that was eating into him.

He glanced down at his emails, pausing as another one pinged. Looking in, he observed that it was from the paleontology department, more specifically Dr Kristen Soren, a skunk who he'd had the delight of working with a few times before, albeit exceedingly briefly. While her area of study was based around extinct animals (both going millions of years back to the trilobites and just a few hundred for other species), her familiarity with dating techniques resulted in her often assisting the archaeology department. Being a linguist at heart, he also tended to help them, which had led to their occasional meetings.

In any case, she was contacting him about an object which she'd encountered and was doing some tests on at the museum. She didn't go far, only to say that her dating systems were picking up some unusual abnormalities, but she was wondering what he thought of the writing on it.

He paused, opening the file and seeing one of the most hopelessly fake egyptian artifacts he'd ever seen. Sure, Kristen was a paleontologist and only helping out, but surely she could see that! They didn't have metal after all, and that ugly sarcophagus was clearly made out of it.

Still, she'd asked him to have a look and, though he wasn't an egyptologist, he still had a rough recollection of the language. Looking down at the pictographs though, he couldn't help but slap himself.

Two things to note about ancient egyptian: One, it was based on sounds. His name, William, had seven letters in english. In ancient egyptian, it could be broken into six. Tutankhamun was broken into seven too: T, U, T, the ankh, A, M, N. The T was a loaf of bread, the M an owl, the ankh was an ankh. Hence, it was a loaf of bread, an owl, a loaf of bread (joined close together as it was one syllable) and an ankh. However, the Amun part was based off of the god Amun (connection to the word amen theorised), who was symbolized by three symbols arranged in a specific order, which together would come after the rest. All of that was preceded by the symbols of the egyptian royalty (itself made of three symbols) and/or enclosed in a cartouche to show that he was a pharaoh.

Individual symbols could represent words or concepts too, ranging from what they displayed to more complex things (the ankh symbolised life, meaning King Tut's name translated to 'Living image of Amun'), while there were whole complexities around the grammar, displaying things like plurals and so on. As if to top it off, spelling and even the order in which you read it could vary depending on the context, the ancient writers taking the laissez-faire approach in assuming the reader could work it all out.

This writer, though, was evidently not ancient. It was very clear that he'd taken the syllabilistic approach and just changed english words straight into egyption. The second word was made up of a lasso, waves of water and a reed: the word one. If they had a word sounding like that, it'd probably be shown with a quail chick, vulture and then the waves. 'Wan'. Of course, were it the number one, they'd just make a single mark.

He read it all through and laughed, shaking his head. The whole thing read: 'Contents: One Happy Camper'. It then clicked for him…

He went over his emails and typed out a thanks to Dr Soren for trying to cheer him up, only to be broken off by the ringing of his bell. Standing up, he walked over and looked at the monitor, pausing as he saw an unusual sight. A fox, a red fox like him but with seemingly no markings, he was just red. He stood there, dressed in a blue overcoat and trousers. "Who are you?" he asked.

The fox looked up and smiled. "A friend," he said, bringing out his badge. "Slylock Fox, PI."

Will's eyes widened and he opened the door, letting the mammal in. "Are you here about my son?"

"Indeed I am," he said, putting a paw forward. Will shook it eagerly. "No clues yet though. You see, I'm working for another client. One who's been tracking the remnants of the nighthowler plot."

Will's eyes widened.

"-More importantly, he has a vendetta against them. Some of his studies and experiments were perverted and stolen to create the terror that plagued this city long ago."

"-And you think that they framed my son?"

"Someone connected to them, certainly," he mused.

"So, Dawn's niece, or the weasel they used to steal the first howlers."

Slylock tilted his head slightly. "I'm not aware of those leads. How did you find them?"

"Officers Nick and Judy Hopps of the ZPD, along with a bunch of their friends and family, have been performing an investigation. Come aboard, the more mammals the greater the chance."

The fox sighed, bringing up his paw. "I'm afraid, I'm currently fully employed by the first mammal and busy as is, investigating from his end. This was only a courtesy call, to tell you that I might find something, but I'm glad to see that you're making great headways yourself."

"Indeed my friends are. If you're busy now, I could forward the details."

"Perfect!" he said, whipping out a business card. "If we find anything useful, we will contact you. Though, my employer might ask a small favour from you."

"Small favour?"

"Yes," he said. "You see, he's a historic collector, and…"

"A translation?"

"Translation work and advice, yes," he said. "He's interested in this… bunny culture from Turkey if I do remember correctly."

"-Efrafan?"

"That's the one! Including looking for some items from this old temple in Armyeenia or somewhere."

"Nildelienes," Willaim said. "I was there years ago. Studied it so well I know it like the back of my paw."

"Yes. He says he's after some things that fell into the Tsar's paws from there a long time ago, and to have you of all mammals able to look at it…"

"-Were these normal times," he said, "I'd be happy to look at something like that for free." There was a pause, as he glanced down. "Though these are not normal times."

"Well," he said. "If you give me your number, I'll send anything helpful your way."

"Likewise," William agreed, handing over one of his cards. "Hopefully something they found will help you, too."

Slylock nodded, before stepping back with a bow and walking off.

William immediately went to his computer, typing on about the discoveries they'd made. Of Duke Weaselton and Maisy Calrama. On and on he went, getting near the end only to pause as he heard his bell ringing again. Walking back to the door, he looked out of the camera only to pause, hit with a sudden sense of deja-vu. This time it was a normal looking red fox vixen standing there in a flowing red trench coat with brass buttons shining out. Beneath that was a pair of black tights, a black form-fitting shirt and black boots. To top it all off, she had a golden scarf around her neck and flowing black head-fur, crowned with a wide red fedora.

"Who are you? We've just had someone like…"

Her eyes widened. "Of course, what name did he use this time?"

"Uh… Slylock?"

"Tch…" she muttered, "the fox of venice, he could at least try and stay contemporary."

"-I'm sorry," he said, cutting her off. "Who are you, what do you want, and what are you talking about? I am not in the mood for pranks."

"And I'm not in the mood for dangerous mammals like him taking advantage of vulnerable ones like you. I cannot help you free your son, I wish I could, but I need to know why he is interested."

He paused, his paw over the doorknob, before he sighed and let her in. In she strode, adjusting her hat and flashing a smile. "William Silverfox, I presume?"

"Yes, and you are?"

"Carmen," she replied, adding a little spanish flick to her words. "Carmen Sandiego Fox."

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AN: Coming up again are those lawyers. Badge and Delilah O'Possum belong to MindJack, writing partner of Berserker88 and come from their wacky and awesome Born be Wilde series. Sam Burmowtiz comes from BvB: Butting heads, by PresidentStalkeyes. Finally, the great Vern Rodenberg belongs to Merc_Marten, and comes from his (ever recommended by me) fic: Fire Triangle. Dr Soren belongs to Tinbuzzard, and has a big role in his excellent political thriller, Sandcastles. However, I think you've all got bigger things on your mind right now, am I right?