Chapter 10
The problem with the hologram was that waving would get old after a while.
Kowalski had been on a time limit prior to their disastrous vacation, but that didn't mean he hadn't bitten off more than he could chew the first time around. The files for the various action loops he hadn't yet been able to work into the final hologram were all still stored on the computer, and despite the time they had spent sitting idle in his admittedly extremely dubious hard-drive, they seemed fully intact.
It was the first win he'd had in a while.
All of the loops defaulted to idle wandering, so if he could set that as a base and build the rest into a random generator after the fact to have them play out in a random order it should keep both Alice and the Zoo-goers fooled to their absence for far longer.
The burrow that had been built into the icefloe had once had an underwater entrance. Not that it had lasted long once they had been able to get their flippers on some construction equipment and expanded the tiny space once meant just for sleeping that had sat just above the waterline. They had broken thorough into the hollow inside of the floe and begun using the new space inside as their base instead. The old burrow entrance was now hidden behind the mounted fish hung on the wall, concealing the small space. A solid concrete wall was now holding out the water, and painted painstakingly to look like the real thing when viewed from an outsider's perspective. A ladder descended downwards, intersecting on the sewer mains and providing an extra entrance alongside the fishbowl they used daily.
If he could work in a manual way to end the looping program by having the holograms seem to enter the burrow any one of the team should be able to leave without seemingly adding an extra penguin to the line-up. A perfect solution providing he was able to make it work.
That was the stumbling block. Normally he would have simply left the default smiling and waving and called it done, but knowing they were being watched and not knowing how long they might have to spend trying to recover any remaining memories left him fussing over every detail. It had to be flawless enough to be realistic to anyone watching, not just Julien and Mort. Maurice had figured out the trick easily enough the first time around, so there was no option but to up his game.
Which was how he ended up breaking into the filter than ran their habitat, hoping that by adding a surge of power it would create enough force to bubble the surface of the water and make it look like the holograms were actually disturbing the surface when they interacted with it.
Overkill? Perhaps. But he would rather be safe than sorry… and presumably dead.
Private had gone to bed not long after he and Skipper had returned from their reconnaissance mission to the vets office, and was currently gone to the world (and the construction happening inside the very room he was sleeping in) thanks to the earmuffs usually saved for blocking out late night lemur antics.
"Philips head." He called, feeling the specified screwdriver drop into his flipper moments later.
As it had turned out there was more for Rico to do than simply burn the now useless reams of MRI images, and Kowalski was quietly grateful Skipper had paired them together. His default silence made it much easier to work, and his knowledge of hardware came in handy as an in-between man. Not having to stop every few adjustments to sort through the toolbox for a specific item was making the job run at least twice as fast.
He held the tool back out to his left, still examining the frayed filter components with a critical eye. "Flat head."
The discarded inventions had also come in handy, but the disparate parts all being strung together only added to the complexity. The Philips head screwdriver was replaced and he started re-tightening the remaining loose screws.
"How's that Circuit board coming?"
Rico made a noncommittal sound and Kowalski swivelled his head to keep an eye on his progress as he continued to twist the screw back into its casing.
Rico was still diligently stripping the defunct love-u-lator, the sardine can now a mess of wires as he worked on extracting the needed hardware in one piece. His eyes were narrowed in focus, tongue hanging out of his beak clamped down on the small torch he was using to shed further light on the equipment. A love of explosives came with its few perks, one of which being an ability to dismantle fine electronic parts efficiently and safely. Raw Dynamite and C4, as much as Rico loved them, were not the only aspects of demolition after all.
The invention sat precariously on the open lid of the Tool box, leaving Rico ready to pass tools as needed.
Kowalski nodded and turned back to work on the next screw.
Night had fallen hours ago and left only the exposed bulbs set into the roof of the base as light, the porthole windows now not much more than inky black voids. The sharp incandescent lights left stark shadows under both penguins, and only just picked out Private's silhouette lying still in the darkened cave of his bunk. The purple horn of his precious Princess Self Respectra doll just visible from where the unicorn was tucked into his arms.
It was a jarring reminder every time as to how naive Private really was. His favourite show was a children's cartoon aiming to teach kids about morality and manners for Newton's sake. While he was still a valued member of their team, it was glaringly obvious he was still a child and it made Kowalski's stomach twist when he remembered the danger they were all in. What kind of sick person would throw a kid into a situation like this?
As if he could hear his thoughts Private sighed and shimmied around unconsciously in his bunk, squeezing the doll tight enough to make the voice box activate, the words too muffled to make out, but predictably it would be something about kindness or ethics.
Between Him and Rico, Kowalski had to wonder if he had missed the memo about having an inanimate doll as a companion.
The Fishbowl clanked open with a rush of cool night air as Skipper returned, the secret solo retrieval mission he had assigned himself apparently going off without a hitch.
He shook out his feathers as he shut the opening behind him, descending the ladder quickly with something still clenched in his Flippers.
"Rico." He called, causing the weapons expert to shake from his concentration to look up. Skipper unfolded his flipper and offered him the pair of nine volt batteries resting on it. Where he got them or why was really anyone's guess. Rico took them, looking up curiously at Skipper as he removed the torch from his beak. "I need you to hang onto these, we'll need them at some point."
Kowalski set down his screwdriver, turning to join the conversation. "Can I ask what for?" He certainly didn't have any use for nine volt batteries and he had no idea what Skipper would do with them.
Skipper smirked and tapped the side of his beak tauntingly. "A commando never reveals his secrets."
"I think you're confusing yourself with a magician." Kowalski pointed out.
He shrugged, unbothered. "Why should those hack-jobs get to have all the fun. I can keep secrets too." He paused. "In fact, I bet I can keep more!"
Kowalski fought not to roll his eyes. "Of course Sir."
Skipper had already moved on, peering curiously down at the half dismantled love-u-lator. "Don't tell me you've got Rico invested in your science nonsense, I thought you were meant to be checking on that Hologram?"
"I haven't, he's just helping me strip old 'science nonsense'" He made a point of physically making air quotes here, "down for necessary parts. I am working on the Hologram by the way, according to the last run we had it still needs some refining."
Skipper nodded, still engrossed in whatever Rico was doing. "Do you need Rico's help, or can you manage this solo?"
Rico looked to Kowalski at this, the expectant expression not quite reaching his tired eyes.
"I mean, he's certainly helping," Rico rubbed one of his eyes with a balled flipper, and Kowalski tilted his head to the side. He may have been sleeping all day but Rico hadn't, and they'd been out late the night before. "But I can manage on my own if need be."
Skipper nodded. "Good, then I'm pulling the plug on this." He tipped his head towards the bunks. "Soldier, you're off duty. Get some shut eye."
Obediently Rico stood, throwing his head back to swallow the batteries with a grimace. He offered Kowalski a wan smile and a wave before trotting over to the bunks and securing his own earmuffs before climbing into his own bunk to settle in.
"So what's the deal with the filter?"
Kowalski took the opportunity to stretch out his back, twisting around with a series of loud clicks. "I'm trying to create movement on the surface of the water to match the movement of the holograms. If we were entering the water realistically there would be a splash, but Holograms don't have that ability so I'm simply trying to fake it by over working the filter." To prove his point he reached up and connected a pair of exposed wires. Through the concrete walls a loud bubbling gurgle could be heard and Skipper smiled half-heartedly.
"Sharp work." He noted, clearly distracted.
Kowalski waited patiently for the other foot to drop.
Their leader quickly inspected the bunks. Rico was already passed out completely, snoring lightly to boot. "I need to ask you about this plan of yours." Skipper murmured.
There it was, right on cue. "Yes?"
Hadn't they already gone over this? What possible questions could Skipper have left?
Skipper sat down on a near-by cinderblock, eyes serious and dark. "This is a lot of work to put in Kowalski, and we have no guarantee it will even work."
"It will." He corrected quickly, only half sure he was right. The rest was a cocktail of blind optimism and a heavy sinking feeling that If it didn't there would be no more chances.
It had to work. He hadn't been able to get the bone deep feeling of unease no matter how much he threw himself into the work presented, the low simmering panic of not knowing if what he had done was truly in cold blood always lurking in the periphery.
He could guess and theorise all he wanted, but without hard evidence the feeling wasn't going to shake.
He had tried to burn someone alive. He needed to know if there was a reason, or if he simply wasn't who he thought he was.
Skipper sighed. "What I'm trying to suggest," he pressed, "Is that we could be working towards more productive solutions."
Kowalski's eyes narrowed, confused. The hopeful expression on Skippers face faded slightly as he shuffled forward to lean his elbows on his knees. "You said you could fix this. Why are we trying to find break through memories when you could just try and remove whatever hocus-pocus was done to us in the first place?"
He had said that hadn't he? Kowalski felt his heart sink. He'd been so sure making that ultimatum on the ridge of Blowhole's tank that there had to be an answer somewhere he hadn't considered the consequences if there wasn't.
The intent gleam in Skippers eyes was making his stomach twist over on itself. If he were able to lie to his commanding officer what was to say he wasn't capable of something as horrific as murder?
He shook the thought from his head as quickly as it came. He'd needed to say it. And now he had to tell the truth. Damn the consequences.
He was a good person.
"Skipper…" He faltered as his commanding officers expression faded. "Skipper," He tried again, forcing down the guilt. "I'm not a neuroscientist."
"But-"
He cut him off, the words coming quick now he had started. "I'm a chemist and electrical engineer by skill set. Sure I have skills in other areas but practical neuroscience is out of my league." He waved at the mostly dismantled love-u-lator. "You've seen it yourself, all of the inventions I've created linked to brain composition have failed."
"What does that mean exactly?" Skipper asked quietly, clasping his flippers together.
Kowalski looked down. "The brain is impossibly complex, and everything is linked together. If I made a mistake that could be the end of it." He murmured. "Without knowing how it was done in the first place It would be a game of chance. I don't even know what strain of science was used to get something like this to function, and while I could make lists and lists of options I can't tell you the exact answer. That means guessing."
He looked up, shoulders dropping as he locked eyes with Skipper. Without meaning too his gaze shifted over to the bunks where Rico and Private were sleeping. He swallowed thickly, fighting down the tremor starting in his flippers.
"I'm just not willing to play those odds when your lives could be on the line." He confessed finally.
Skipper sighed, head tipping forward as he rubbed the back of his skull. "That's…" He shook his head. "That's not what I wanted to hear." He muttered.
The defeat was heavy on his words and while all Kowalski wanted to do was at least offer to try, the mental image of any one of them lying dead on the floor of his lab at his own flippers was keeping him in line.
Maybe he might have, putting his faith in his skills and starting small, but after that memory was returned to him he couldn't even begin to entertain the thought of taking someone's life into his own flippers like that. Not when he couldn't trust he would do the right thing.
He couldn't keep the tremor down anymore and folded his flippers to try and hide the way they were trembling.
Skipper looked over at him, face pinched like he was in pain. "And you're sure this will work?"
It almost sounded like pleading. Kowalski wanted to be honest, give him the full untainted truth, but he needed Skipper on board.
"Yes." He replied finally, praying he sounded more sure than he felt.
Skipper nodded, but the relief Kowalski felt was laced with a bitter guilt. "Alright. You've got till morning to get this working, whatever state it's in then is the best we can do." He stood, nodding towards the bunks. "I also expect you to get some rest you hear me? We don't know what could be coming and I need you sharp. There's no room for mistakes."
Kowalski nodded solemnly, lifting his flipper in a sharp salute. "Yes sir."
"Good." Skipper patted him lightly on the shoulder and Kowalski flinched automatically at the contact, jolting back ever so slightly with each light touch. If Skipper noticed he didn't comment, turning to waddle over to the bunks instead, climbing the ladder to claim his one at the top.
Kowalski watched as he placed his earmuffs on and lay down, eyes closed and flippers resting on his stomach.
It wasn't a lot of time, but he'd hardly had much to begin with, and to be fair Skipper had never specified how much sleep he needed to get, which left a fair amount of leeway.
Gritting his beak Kowalski turned back to the filter and hefted the screwdriver again to continue working.
The morning came with a pale sweep of tangerine clouds and a chilled breeze. The sun had barely started to slink over the horizon when Skipper had woken them all, taking Private with him as they went to lie in wait to observe Alice or the onsite vet unlocking the clinic for the day. The security had been tighter than on most of the other Zoo buildings and they had needed more information if they were going to be able to complete their heist that night.
Rico was little more than a Zombie, shuffling half a pace behind Kowalski as they walked over to the Chimpanzee habitat.
Admittedly Kowalski wasn't doing much better, having run with Skippers lack of specifications the night prior and while he'd felt mostly ok last night, waking up after a mere hour of sleep had left him feeling decidedly worse. All that being said he had managed to upgrade the hologram and all that was left was to test it still worked after all of the additions.
The filter was a now a mess of wires, the circuit board haphazardly taped to the wall beside it and fitted with a switch that should, science permitting, turn off the hologram off by having the projected penguins seemingly return to the long dismantled burrow.
Kowalski yawned, trying to lean into a gust of cold wind in the hopes it would wake him up. It was pleasant enough, combing through his loose outer feathers with icy fingers, but did little else. Behind him he heard Rico shake vigorously, muttering something incomprehensible.
Mason and Phil had both been asleep when they arrived, brown fur camouflaged amongst the dead leaves and sticks of the nests they had built around the base of the tree making up their habitat.
Kowalski hesitated on the wall of the exhibit, glancing up at the clock tower looming over the zoo and squinting his tired eyes to try and make out the time. It hadn't even reached 6:00am yet if the shadowed clock face was to be believed and Kowalski had to wonder if it was even appropriate to be rousing other zoo residents at such an early hour. Rico apparently had no such qualms, dropping into the habitat and waddling over to where Phil was draped over the edge of his nest, limbs akimbo and spine bent at an uncomfortable angle to shake him roughly by what Kowalski assumed was a shoulder.
He shot up with a wild rustle, hands flailing wildly and Rico had to duck back to avoid being smacked across the beak. It took him a moment, but the sleep delirium faded as he blinked and rubbed at his eyes he glanced between Rico and Kowalski with a nasty scowl.
Kowalski jumped off the wall to avoid the stick hurled in his direction, Rico taking his lumps and only rubbing his head where he had been struck after the fact, looking around in confusion like he wasn't sure how he got there.
Mason stirred, uncurling and sitting up with a yawn. "Phil? What is it old boy?" He mumbled.
"Uh," Kowalski started. "Good morning. Sorry for the early hour."
Mason straightened quickly, righting himself fully and smoothing down his fur. His eyes darted quickly around the habitat, assessing the situation with a speed Skipper would be impressed with. Phil was still scowling at Rico, shaking a stick clenched in his fist threateningly. "Oh yes, um, good morning to you as well," Mason stammered, clearly distracted. "Phil!"
The chimp turned, clearly still annoyed. Mason started signing, the motions still jerky and un-coordinated. Kowalski quickly tamped down on his annoyance, he really didn't have a right to be frustrated considering the rude awakening he had just had a part in delivering. It didn't stop the curiosity though. Phil lowered his stick, cocking his head as Mason quickly finished his sentence.
The mute simian also did a quick assessment, his spine straightening before he crossed quickly over to Mason, standing tense beside him. Rico looked around as well, but his seemed to be more in bewilderment than anything, finally shrugging at Kowalski.
"Well… good morning," Mason reiterated, clearly still struggling at the early hour. "Any particular reason for this wake-up call or is this just a new service you Penguins are providing?" His eyebrow lifted sardonically. "Should we be anticipating breakfast in bed as well?"
"Actually, we need a favour."
Mason looked almost nervous at this, glancing up at Phil who only crossed his arms defensively. They both looked spooked, and Kowalski was left wondering why. "Oh, I see…" Mason said, picking carefully over his words. He pressed the tips of his fingers together. "Is Skipper with you? Did he ask you to come?"
The realisation came like a stick to the cranium and he smacked himself in the forehead with a flipper. Of course, they didn't know Skipper had told them about what had happened in the records room. Or more accurately, that he had told Kowalski. Rico was staring listlessly into the pale sky, the faded light of morning not yet bright enough to require squinting.
"Rico?" He called. The weapons expert turned expectantly. "I think I left something important at the base, could you get it for me?"
Rico only raised an eyebrow and Kowalski tripped over his words trying to find an excuse. "It's uh… My clipboard. I need my clipboard to illustrate the plan." He settled on finally, hoping it would be enough to fool him, tapping his flippers together nervously.
Rico thought about it for a moment before shrugging, ambling back past him with a quick touch to his elbow before jumping back over the wall.
"Skipper did send us." Kowalski explained quickly, waddling closer to avoid shouting.
Mason nodded slowly. "Of course… It's just…" He looked to Phil who signed something quickly, pointing once at Kowalski and then jabbing a thumb in the direction Rico had wandered off as he did. "Shouldn't he be here?"
"He's currently occupied." Kowalski said, "But rest assured I know about Frances Alberta."
Mason deflated, spine bowing as he let out a sigh of relief, rubbing at his forehead. "Right, good. I'm sorry but we were under strict instruction not to mention it to anyone." He paused, pointing in the same direction Phil just had, searching for the words to articulate his question. "Does-"
"No. He and Private don't know." He paused, "Well, they know a more palatable version, let's put it that way."
"Interesting." Mason drawled, once again sharing a look with Phil Kowalski couldn't even begin to decipher. Was this what other zoo residents felt when they dealt with their team? For the first time Kowalski could really understand their frustration. "Well you clearly came here with a purpose, so spit it out already."
"Right, of course. We need your help."
Phil signed something, clearly frustrated. Mason reached out and stopped his hands gently. "My friend here is pointing out we already did our last favour for you this month," He said pointedly, but it wasn't directed at Kowalski. "What he's forgetting is that a woman was murdered, and as such that probably isn't something we should be concerning ourselves with at this moment."
Phil sighed silently and Mason ignored it. "Does this help you require concern that?" he asked.
Kowalski chose his next words carefully. He felt pretty confident in assuming that was as much as they were aware of, and explaining the missing memories would more than likely just be as helpful as shooting himself in the foot. "Sort of. Tangentially." He shook his head. "We need you to get a few things from outside the zoo for us," Mason's eyebrows shot up, "We would normally do this ourselves, but we can't read and uh…" He once again found himself looking for a believable excuse. Revealing their unwillingness to leave the zoo anymore given recent revelations wouldn't help. "We're a little busy at the moment as you might guess."
Once again it looked like he got away with it, and he counted himself as two for two on today's lies. It wasn't a nice feeling.
"Well, while we'd love to help, we aren't exactly… how to put this…" Mason mused, "equipped? To do something like that."
"We have a plan for that. You remember Max, correct?"
Mason scoffed, not noticing how Phil's eyes lit up, probably thinking of the veritable walking buffet of parasites crawling all over the stray cat. "You could say that."
Kowalski cringed slightly as Mason scratched at his arm, hoping it was simply psychosomatic. "He lives in the dumpster behind the Chinese restaurant on 34th street. We can provide a map, all you need to do is get his help in breaking into the pharmacy to collect a few things."
"And what makes you so sure he'd be as willing to help as we are?" Mason questioned, folding his arms.
The voice came from behind him this time. "Trust us, Moon cat owes us a few favours. He won't leave you hanging."
Mason looked relieved, placing a hand over his chest. "Skipper."
Skipper flipped down from the wall, landing smoothly beside Kowalski without so much as a greeting. "We wouldn't be asking if it wasn't important." He soothed, "I'm sure you can understand that."
Mason waved his words away, nodding quickly. "Of course, whatever you need."
If Kowalski actually cared about his standing with the Chimps he might have been annoyed at the ease with which Skipper was able to get them to agree, but as it was he didn't really care too much either way. Skipper was their commanding officer after all and it was far more important to have them on their side. The clock was literally ticking after all, the hands of the clock ever present looming over the zoo creeping around the circumference too quickly for his liking as the orange hue of sunrise was being sapped from the clouds above.
"Kowalski will provide you with a list later tonight if you're willing to meet us both at the zoo offices just after closing. Moon cat will do most of the heavy lifting, we just need you to confirm he's grabbing the right stuff."
Consider his interest piqued, he wasn't sure what Skipper wanted with the zoo offices. As if sensing his confusion Skipper settled a flipper on his shoulder in a one-flippered hug and Kowalski shuddered at the feeling, shrugging the flipper off his shoulder. The heavy feeling made his skin crawl unpleasantly, a gnawing unease clawing inside his chest.
Phil signed something, bending down to make sure Mason saw it, a frown still present on his face. Mason rolled his eyes. "While I'm happy to assist however I can in this murder investigation it seems my friend here is requesting an additional 5 crates of bananas for his service." He shared a look with both of them, shrugging. What can you do?
Skipper smiled pleasantly. "Of course, we can organise that tonight."
"Consider it done." Mason agreed, finally getting to his feet to offer his hand.
Skipper shook it firmly. "Glad to hear it. We'll have everything ready. Kowalski?"
Taking that as their sign to leave Kowalski also offered a quick thank you and followed his leader up over the wall back onto the zoo pathways.
It was strange to see Skipper looking so assured in such a situation, not a feather out of place and eyes clear and focused. Almost embarrassed Kowalski smoothed down his own wayward plumage while clearing his throat. "What exactly are we meeting them at the Zoo offices for?"
Skipper glanced at him out of the corner of his eyes. "Consider it a hunch." He decided.
Kowalski groaned internally. The more things change the more they stay the same, and it seemed Skippers patented caginess wasn't going anywhere. "Yes sir."
"How's the hologram." Skipper asked, quickly changing the topic.
"Subject to any issues that arise in testing, it should be ready to go."
He nodded, coming to a stop outside their habitat, stroking the underside of his beak thoughtfully. "I can live with that. We still have time to kill before the Zoo opens and Alice is more than likely going to spend that time in her office, so let's start there."
The fishbowl entrance opened with a clang and Rico hauled himself out, Clipboard tucked under his flipper. He stopped short seeing the pair of them on the other side of the fence, tipping his head to the side curiously.
"Never-mind Rico, it's already covered." Kowalski called over. "Thank you though!" He added quickly as an afterthought.
Rico groaned, dropping the clipboard and shaking a flipper at the ever lightening sky as he garbled something. Skipper chuckled. The breeze was starting to pick up.
"Get the Private for me would you soldier? We've got some time up our sleeves and I'm not letting us waste it sitting around."
Rico grumbled something and turned around, disappearing back into the base and leaving the clipboard on the ground.
From somewhere behind them the clock chimed.
The day passed surprisingly quickly. There were a few wrinkles to iron out in the hologram but they were fixed just in time to play cute and cuddly for the tourists and new York residents that flocked to the Zoo.
The tiredness came back, but it was easy enough to ignore with practice and Kowalski dutifully assumed his role as a normal zoo animal, working his way through a repetitive motion of preening and idle meandering occasionally interspersed with the occasional adorable antic at Skippers command.
The sun tore quickly through the sky, and before he knew it the bells above the clock tower were ringing loudly once again to signal the closing of the zoo as Alice ripped through the crowds with a fevered ferocity to shoo them towards the exit.
"She clearly has plans." Private giggled, watching as Alice jabbed her thumb in the direction of the gates and shouted at a bewildered couple who clearly didn't speak much English. Probably for the best, as Kowalski was certain that, "what part of get lost do you moron's not get!", would be liable for a few complaints if not.
The group waited on the ice floe for a while, waiting for Alice to finally usher the Veterinarian through the staff exit and arm the required alarms before she herself stomped out of the premises.
It wouldn't be a stretch to assume she had completely forgotten how to get anywhere without storming her way there. Handy when you were listening for sharp stomping feet, but probably not a great indicator of her mental state.
Frances hadn't stomped anywhere. From what Kowalski could remember she had flitted from place to place on featherlight feet, cleaning every inch of the way and petting the zoo animals affectionally when she did. Of course that was more concerning when you remembered all of the zoo animals were androids, but it had been a refreshing change at the time.
And now she was dead.
He shook the morbid thought as Skipper lowered his binoculars. "Alright. Kowalski, you're with me. Private, half an hour and I want you to meet us at the Zoo offices. Rico, hold down the fort here, I want no one in or out unauthorised."
Rico nodded, adjusting his stance by the fishbowl entrance as Private continued to swing his feet back and forth above the surface of the water. "Sure thing Skipper!" He chirped.
Breaking into the Zoo office was always easy. Alice clearly didn't believe anyone breaking into the Zoo would be going for admin files and she was mostly right. Unfortunately she didn't account for those already inside.
Skipper wasn't as quick at picking locks and Rico was, but he still by far the second quickest on the team and as such Kowalski only had to balance him on his shoulders for a few minutes before they were inside. The dingy backroom barely changed and was even more rarely cleaned. Kowalski ran a flipper over the ledge of the bookshelf and cutting a deep line into the dust it. Probably because Alice didn't care for it much at all.
Skipper flipped up onto the desk and kicked at the mouse to illuminate the monitor, Kowalski following him up. "So what exactly is this hunch of yours?" Kowalski asked finally, knocking the empty paper coffee cup over the edge of the desk and into the bin to make room for the papers he had brought with him.
Skipper peered intently at the computer, as if by looking at it closely enough he might be able to actually read what was written on it. "Shipping records." He said simply. "It might help if we knew where we came from. Could be a valuable lead."
It wasn't a bad idea. Even if they couldn't leave the zoo knowing where whoever it was that did this to them had sent them from could at least point them in the right direction. Or any direction at all.
When they had all first met in that shipping crate, where they had come from hadn't been anywhere near as important as where they were going.
Looking back on that memory Kowalski wanted to go back and stop himself from falling into the confirmation biases that had made up the next two years. Those memory blockers had really been working overtime, and with Skipper immediately leaping over the question of how they all ended up there to focus on what was coming next it had immediately been dismissed.
He had awoken with a pounding head and dry mouth, face pressed into the wood of the crate, drifting back and forth from consciousness as two voices rallied back and forth from somewhere behind him.
"Oh! I think this one is waking up! Hello? Sir? Are you ok?"
"Give the man some space Private, do you want to be kicked in the stomach again?"
"Sorry Skipper. I really am sorry about scaring you by the way."
"I already told you, you didn't scare me, I don't get scared. You just triggered my defensive measures is all."
His eyes opened finally, fluttering open in short bursts as he grimaced and fought against the lapping waves of exhaustion trying to lull him back to sleep. He groaned, rolling shakily onto his flippers and knees, limbs and joints like jello as he did. "Where am I?" He muttered, working each vertebrae in his neck individually to look around. The two penguins in front of him were both backed up into the walls of what a appeared to be a rather small shipping crate. The smaller of the two was leaning forward excitedly, eyes sparkling while the other slightly taller penguin was watching with a cool detachment.
"Morning Soldier. Name and Rank?" His voice was smooth and clear, spine straight and flippers crossed as he tipped his head.
He shook his head. Name and Rank? Of course. He was a solider. The taller of the two penguins must have been his commanding officer. He groaned and flopped into a sitting position, unsure his legs would hold him up even if he wanted to stand. His toes were tingling. "Kowalski." He murmured. "First Lieutenant."
The penguin nodded crisply. "Well depending on what sleeping beauty behind you has to say we might have to bump that up to Second Lieutenant."
"I'm Private!" The rounder penguin chirped brightly, words coming quick and thick with a plummy British accent. Were they in Britain on a mission? There was a softness to his edges and a kind roundness to his face. "Name and rank in one! How silly. That's Skipper, he's our captai- Ow!"
Skipper, as his name apparently was, swatted Private upside the head with a firm flipper. "Give the man a moment! He's just woken up!"
The private rubbed his head meekly. "Sorry Sir."
There was an odd slightly smoky smell to the air and Kowalski looked around curiously to find the source. Behind him a fourth penguin was face down in the corner of the small crate, limbs tossed roughly about him and apparently still dead to the world. The only movement was the stuttered rise and fall of his chest. This must have been the sleeping beauty Skipper mentioned. A team of four apparently. Rather small, they must be a specialised unit.
"How long have I been asleep?"
Skipper stroked his beak, clearly thinking. "Maybe an hour? I can't say how long before that."
There was a dull feeling of vertigo and a low churning rumble coming from outside the crate. When he touched the wall it vibrated slightly. "We're on the move." He paused to listen to the rumbling purr, comparing it to the vibration on the raw wood panels surrounding them. "Sounds like a 4 cylinder engine, meaning this is likely in a 12 foot moving vehicle." He mused.
Skipper seemed impressed. "Sharp work Kowalski."
Private sat down beside him, eyes still sparkling with unbridled curiosity. Kowalski scooted back slightly to make some room, bumping into the other still unconscious penguin in the crate. "We're not sure where we're going yet. It's got to be a deep cover mission, right?"
"We can't say that for sure…"
He and Skipper locked eyes as they spoke at the same time, almost in unison. Skipper smirked. "… at least not yet. Once we arrive we'll need to recon the area and figure out the parameters of the mission."
"Once we've ascertained where we are its important to establish a base," Kowalski continued, picking up where Skipper left off. "The crate suggests a wildlife centre of some kind." Penguins of their species were usually found in the arctic, and with the obvious lack of snow and the fact they were in a moving vehicle meant their rookery was clearly en route for captivity.
"Right, then we'll need a game plan or several. There's no telling the number of hostiles we might encounter. You're up brainiac, give me some options here."
It was the crisp knocking that broke him from the memory, and both he and Skipper turned sharply to the window to see Mason and Phil crouched on the window ledge outside.
It was jarring, And Kowalski almost walked off the edge of the desk before he realised he wasn't on the floor. He had to look around to remind himself where he was, taking in the light grey walls and the grey and white checked tile floor to remind himself it was all still there.
Skipper had already made it to the window, unlatching it and shoving the window pane upwards to allow the pair of chimpanzees inside. They both looked nervous, more than likely unsure of the mission they were about to embark on. Kowalski sympathised, it would be far easier if they could just go themselves, but even the thought of being caught outside of the zoo walls had his skin crawling. To think they had been so reckless up to this point. So many things could have gone wrong and the dizzying number of variables made him sick to his stomach in retrospect.
"Is there a particular reason we are meeting here?" Mason asked, folding his arms defensively. "I must say I'd rather been hoping we would be able to keep the breaking and entering to a minimum."
"I can understand that," Skipper said, flipping back up onto the desk. "I just need you to locate our shipping records. After what happened with Frances we're worried about other Zoo-keepers, We wanted to double check which of our old keepers sent us to this zoo."
Kowalski's eyebrows both raised in surprise. It was a good lie, both plausible and carefully constructed. He tipped his head, scrutinising his leader. His expression was carefully neutral, giving nothing away, not even to Kowalski who knew nearly every word he had said was a falsehood. It made his feathers spike uncomfortably. Mason and Phil both bought it easily, Phil taking up his post at the key board and dutifully beginning to search through the folders on the desktop for the information they needed. He barely touched the mouse, fingers flying with a practiced ease as windows opened and closed in rapid succession.
Kowalski almost wanted to ask where he got his affinity for computers from, but thought better of distracting him. They were on a time crunch after all.
Mason folded his arms and looked at them both seriously. "Do you think this is some kind of conspiracy that involves Zoo Keepers from across New York?" He asked. His eyes suddenly grew wide. "Oh dear, should we be worried for Alice?!"
Skipper shook his head easily, brushing him off with a casual wave of his flipper. "I'm sure it's nothing like that, we just want to be sure. As for Alice…" He paused before shrugging with a smirk, "We'll let's just say even I wouldn't want to be on that Dame's bad side."
Mason seemed to consider it. Kowalski only had to remember the poor tourist couple from earlier.
They both shivered at almost the same time. He was far from wrong. Alice was a anger management therapist's worst nightmare.
"While we've got the time, Kowalski?" He looked up to Skipper offering the papers from before. "Would you take Mason through the plan?"
The hand-drawn map was slightly off, but Kowalski had done his best to draw it to scale, consulting the map of new York Rico had stolen from a subway station a few months before. Mason seemed to follow, asking a few questions as Kowalski talked him through the route they'd outlined. Max lived and breathed New York city streets, so as soon as the Chimps got to him they'd be mostly safe.
After that it was just a matter of getting to the unknown Pharmacy Max had been able to break into and getting him to try and find the correct medications. The chimps could confirm and with any luck Max would escort them home again at the end.
It was minimal risk, and looking at it that way Kowalski could almost convince himself they wouldn't have been needed anyway.
"Do you think you can remember those names?" Kowalski asked, having run through the list of medications.
Mason frowned and nodded slowly. "Perhaps. I might see if we can find some images online and print them, then there's no chance of a mix-up and it might make it easier for your parasite ridden friend to find them." He paused. "Although I must admit I fail to see how this connects to that poor zoo-keeper?"
He was saved from the uncomfortable question when Phil turned around and tapped on Mason's shoulder sharply, catching his attention before beginning to sign quickly.
"Lets see." Mason mused. "It would appear four penguins were transferred from the Bronx Zoo under the care of one John Wilkins."
Skipper sighed in relief, and Kowalski had to school his concerned expression. "Ah, Good old John. Should have guessed it." He chuckled easily.
Phil quirked an eyebrow at Mason, but started closing the tabs on the computer regardless. "Do you think this… John… fellow is safe?" Mason asked, eyes squinted in concern.
"Leave that one to us Simian, John is under our protective custody as of now. No one is going to touch a hair on his precious human head." Skipper bragged, folding his flippers across his chest.
Again, it was convincing. Kowalski was left wondering if perhaps Skipper really did know a John. Either way it was a new lead, and a big one at that. If they came from the Bronx Zoo then any memories pertaining to that would all be viable clues.
Mason had already got Phil to open the desktop's Browser, and was reciting the names of the medications as Phil plugged them in and started saving images. "Melanin as well."
"Melatonin." Kowalski corrected. "It's a common sleep aid."
Phil hammered a key and then resumed typing. Rows of images of boxes popped up and he saved a few of them to the desktop. Kowalski hoped absently Alice had replaced the ink in the printer already.
By the time they were ready to leave Mason was holding a few extra pieces of paper, among the map Kowalski had provided, a few warm pages of images hot off the printer. The sun had begun to set at this point, the pale orange of the morning returning with a saturated vengeance to mark the evening. The breeze that had been present all day had died, but the temperature was still low.
"Wait for a few more hours after the sun has set, you should be safe to leave then." Skipper instructed. "I'll send Rico to escort you out and deactivate the alarms."
Mason nodded, the nervousness back in spades as he fanned out the papers like a particularly large and unruly deck of cards, scanning them again with quick glances. "Thank you." He tried to look at Phil, but apparently he didn't care now his part of the work was done, shuffling impatiently from foot to foot as he stared off in the direction of their habitat. "Are you sure-"
Skipper smiled. "I am. You're in safe paws with Max. And if even Ringtail can get around New York, I have full faith you two can."
The mention of the brain dead lemur king seemed to help and Mason's shoulders dropped slightly as the tension left him. "A valuable point." He gathered the paper back into one stack and rolled it up to shove it under his armpit. "We shan't let you down."
"Never doubted it for a moment."
The pair leapt soundlessly from the ledge and started back towards their Habitat, conversing quietly as they went. Skipper's smile remained, but as they went Kowalski couldn't help but notice how strained it was becoming.
"That was helpful." He offered meekly, only to have Skipper sigh and drop to sit on the edge of the window. Kowalski turned and shut the window behind them both, the door already locked again from the inside, hiding any trace of their visit.
"It would be." He muttered, rubbing his forehead like he was trying to massage away a brewing headache. "Aside from one glaring problem."
"Sir?"
Skipper groaned irritably. "The Bronx zoo doesn't have an arctic exhibit. They never have." He waved a flipper in the general direction of the Zoo-venier shop. "The pamphlets we have for the Bronx zoo are at least four years old at this point. No Penguins listed."
Kowalski frowned. "But then-"
"The records were faked." He rolled his eyes. "I mean, do you think Alice would have fact checked it? No way. In fact, I'd bet my left flipper 'John Wilkins' doesn't even exist."
Kowalski shut his eyes and tried to will away the sudden wave of frustration, his flippers still resting on the glass of the window. It was one step forward, two steps backwards every step of the way. No matter where they looked there was always something set up to keep them from finding anything out. A dead zoo-keeper, a mind wiped dolphin and now fake shipping records. Sweet thermo-dynamic laws, this whole Zoo could turn out to be an elaborate theatre show and it would only be yet another inconvenience!
"Whoever did this certainly likes to play games." He hissed out from his grit beak, turning to sit down next to his commanding officer, equally defeated. He lent back and let his head bump against the window, a poor substitution for banging it repeatedly against the glass.
Skipper snorted. "Games is one word for it Soldier. I prefer psychological torture." Skipper cracked his flippers, expression drawn tight with a bubbling rage. "Let's hope they enjoy a taste of their own medicine."
Kowalski didn't risk pointing out what had happened to Frances. Genevieve. Whoever she was. In this moment he was almost sure Skipper thought himself bulletproof, and he wasn't going to waste time arguing. Besides, he's be lying if he said his own flippers weren't itching at the thought of wrapping around this masterminds throat.
They had literally nothing at this point, not even a clue as to where they had been before all of this. It could have been literally anywhere, and that only made the options left staggering in their number. Any zoo or wildlife centre could have been the answer, or even the south pole in all of its immense snowy wilderness.
He felt the last remaining paper be tugged from his grip and looked over to see Skipper examining the crude pictograms scribbled on it. "Are you sure this is everything you need?" He asked, tilting the paper slightly so Kowalski could look as well.
The EKG monitor was by far the most important, and he'd emphasised how important it was to try and get their flippers on as many electrodes as possible without the missing stock being suspicious. Spare Reptile house lights, any mounting brackets and some spare glassware was also listed, but less essential. He nodded in confirmation and Skipper folded the paper in half.
"Consider them already commandeered." Skipper assured, confidence returned.
"Consider what Commandeered?"
Private was standing under the windowsill, looking up at his superior officers with a curious smile.
Skipper pushed himself off the bench and handed the smaller penguin the folded piece of paper. "The supplies we're borrowing from the vets office."
Private glances at him, smile faltering slightly into a frown. "I don't know you can call it borrowing if we don't ask first."
"It will be if we can get them out and back in without them noticing." Skipper shrugged. "That's all borrowing is really anyway."
"Not at all!" Private barked sharply. "The Lunacorns always say, 'you need to ask befo-'
Skipper cut him off, none to kindly. "Kowalski, we'll see you at the base as soon as we're done. Again, keep that place locked down until we get back."
Kowalski nodded slowly. They always kept their base locked down, so Skippers pointed reminders were strange all on their own. "Sure. Can do." He muttered. There was something else going on here, and he didn't yet have all of the pieces to the puzzle.
A thought sparked quickly, and left a sour taste in his mouth. It couldn't be Hans again could it?
He didn't have a chance to try and ask before the pair were belly sliding off towards the other end of the admin block, Private still trying to explain the correct process of borrowing something.
Kowalski gave him three minutes before he realised he was talking to a brick wall. Reluctantly he shoved down the nagging unease. There wasn't anything he could do but follow orders despite how much he wanted to chase after Skipper and shake him for answers. Whatever he had planned he was clearly keeping it close to his chest for the time being and after Skipper had been so open about what had happened too Frances he almost felt willing to blindly trust him once again. He hopped carefully down from the ledge.
Almost.
Marlene waved cheerily as he passed her habitat, and he offered a short, tense smile in return. As strange as it felt to believe, He had bigger fish to fry right now than Skippers unwillingness to share more than was strictly necessary at any given point. Hopefully soon it wouldn't matter anyway, and they'd all be on the same page and on their way to dish some good old fashioned revenge to whoever was responsible.
Rico was still standing guard when he arrived, although that might have been a stretch given how he was simply looking off into the middle distance and wandering in idle circles around the silver dish serving as an entrance. He jerked back to attention as Kowalski vaulted the fence to land on the ice floe. The orange of the sunset had stained the light concrete a dusty tangerine, shadows lengthening and growing fainter every second as night encroached. Rico folded his arms and regarded him coolly up and down, beak twisted in suspicion.
"Rico?" He asked cautiously, approaching the stockier penguin slowly. The barely shelved frustration returned. For the love of Marie Curie, don't let this be another episode.
Rico clicked his tongue, and gave him another once over. "You Authorised?" He grunted, raising one eyebrow.
Kowalski blinked.
"I… Yes?" He replied. Was he authorised?!
"I mean… What?!"
There was a moment where neither of them moved, and it was only when panic was just starting to set in Rico finally broke, a wild grin appearing as he laughed and patted Kowalski on the head patronisingly. "So Stressed." He teased, expertly opening the fishbowl with a practiced backwards kick.
It took Kowalski a second to understand what had happened, his thinking completely derailed. Had… Had Rico seriously been messing with him?
He couldn't help but laugh.
He'd been so hyper focused the idea hadn't even occurred to him, but of course he was being toyed with! It was good, he wasn't above admitting that, even if he was the punchline. "You're a menace, you know that?" He said, ducking to avoid more heavy pats to the head.
Rico shrugged, beak curling in a restrained smirk as his eyes flashed in the diminishing sun. "Smart guy, huh?" He asked, raising an eyebrow again, a light playfulness clear even in his gravelly voice.
Kowalski shook his head lightly, still chuckling. "Ha, ha. Yes, very funny, can I please go inside? I actually have work to do you know."
Rico acquiesced, stepping aside and gesturing lazily at the entrance before refolding his flippers and fixing his attention back over the fence, trying to school his expression back to seriousness and failing. He'd clearly had his fun getting a rise out him, and Kowalski couldn't say it wasn't somewhat deserved. How had he missed that?
Kowalski was still letting out stray laughs when the fishbowl shut behind him, shaking his head as he rubbed a flipper over his face. It felt nice to laugh about something. He'd spent so long worried, the amusement almost felt foreign.
The toolbox was still sitting idly by the filter and he opened it to sort through the weird assortment of drill bits they'd managed to collect.
In spite of everything he felt hopeful for the first time. It had been so long since he had felt a positive emotion his body was almost riding the high. It was like standing under a shower and letting the grime off fear and anger wash away in the water. Maybe when all of this was over he could finally relax and actually enjoy himself? It had been so long since the team had sat down and played a game of cards or a friendly round of poker.
When all of the stress was behind them maybe he'd suggest it.
He picked up the concrete drill bit and the drill itself, hoping the batteries in the small handheld device were still good and he fastened the bit in place.
They'd get their memories back, school whatever punk had the audacity to mess with them, and get back to normalcy finally. Considering an outcome where this didn't happen, for the first time, didn't even cross his mind. He still had to get Private back for their most recent game of stomp the wombat after all.
Instead of planning for the next disaster or pouring obsessively over the situation, for once his mind was blessedly quiet as he worked. The loud buzzing of the drill and the pitched whine off it boring through the top of their bunks in preparation for some new light fittings was the only thing he needed to focus on, holding it steady as it methodically worked through the hard stone.
Kowalski was working on the top bunk when he heard it. The whine of the drill cut out and he placed it down to brush away the excess dust kicked up in the process, and in the quiet he could finally hear the argument brewing top side. There was a few voices, all of them trying to talk over one another, causing the volume to rise seemingly exponentially.
He sighed and shuffled out of the small space, careful not to knock the drill to the floor. There goes his good mood.
He popped the hatch entrance to their base, daring to poke his head out. In the time he had been working the sun had set and a placid darkness had settled over the Zoo. The lamps set up provided more than enough light to see by though, and he groaned as he finally saw who was causing the ruckus.
"Julien." He groaned.
The lemur king stopped, not removing his finger from where it was poking into Rico's chest, leaning around the other penguin to glance down at where Kowalski had the top half of his torso surfaced from the hole in the fake ice floe.
"Oh! Hello there Brain-ity Penguin." Mort and Maurice were also in attendance, the former focused in with a laser sharp accuracy on Julien's feet and the latter clearly simply exhausted and tired of whatever shenanigans were occurring. "Would you please be telling Freako here to let us inside? We are being in need of your stuff." Julien announced, not an inch of shame present.
Rico snapped at his still prodding finger, and Julien snatched it away with a sharp cry. "Maurice! Are you seeing this outrage-ishness? The smelly fish bird attacked the royal pokity finger!"
"FIEND!" Mort howled, barrelling forward to begin pounding on Rico's body. Rico sighed, craning his neck to fix Kowalski with a tired stare, clearly not even registering the mouse lemur trying to defend his monarch.
"Come on King Julien, can't this wait until the morning?" Maurice protested. "I'm dead tired, I don't think-"
"Do not be so silly Maurice," Julien interrupted, seemingly scandalised. "The royal booty demands to be shaken!" as if to prove his point he jutted out his backside and wriggled his bushy striped tail just under Maruice's nose. The aye-aye lent back grimacing, but kept his mouth shut.
"What do you want." Kowalski sighed, adjusting his feet on the ladder and leaning heavily on the concrete. This was clearly going to take a while.
Julien fixed his gaze back down on Kowalski, his train of thought taking a second to switch directions on its singular track. "Something is wrong with our Boomy-box! It is refusing to bump the royal jams!"
"The batteries are missing." Maurice translated, shrugging his shoulders. There was almost pity in his eyes.
"Not missing!" Julien insisted, "They have been stolen!"
He paused, clearly expecting some kind of dramatic response. As it stood the only sound was the thumping of Mort's tiny fists on Rico's stomach. Rico looked down, and pushed the mouse lemur away with his foot.
Kowalski pinched the bridge of his beak. "And this is our problem, how?"
Julien rolled his hand around on his wrist limply. "Eh, well, you have all sorts of goodies down there in your fishy little penguin hole."
"Not. Authorised." Rico growled out, clearly having gone over this point before.
"Yes well I haven't been seeing you publish a book either buddy!" Julien snapped. "To me it is you who is the one not being Authority-ised!"
"Ringtail!?"
Skipper leapt onto the ice floe, leaving Private stranded on the other side, almost hidden behind the heavy monitor in his flippers. Kowalski could hear him asking loudly just what was going on. "What are you doing here?" Skipper asked, a pleading note entering his tone. "Don't you have anyone else to bother?!"
"Shouty penguin!" Julien exclaimed. "Thank the Sky Spirits you are here, there has been a robbery!"
Skipper sighed heavily and twisted to consult Maurice.
"The batteries to the Boom Box are missing." He clarified.
"Stolen!" Julien corrected. Over the fence Private had finally put the EKG monitor down, hauling himself up over the bars with flippers still full of electrodes, constantly stopping to hoist them up and stop the loose wires dangling into the water below. "As the king I am demanding you stop this flightless boring whatever it is you are doing and start the investigating!" He demanded.
Skipper rolled his eyes. "Right." He groaned. "Ringtail, we don't have time, but I'll cut you a deal, how about that?"
The lemur king seemed to stop and ponder this. "I would be preferring the whole deal…"
Skipper ignored him. "We have some spare batteries and I'll let you have them-"
Moret and Julien started cheering immediately, and Skipper shouted to be heard. "BUT! You have to agree to leave us alone for the next month!"
"Done, give me the batteries!"
Skipper raised an eyebrow suspiciously, crossing his flippers. "I don't think your little mammal brain is quite understanding. I need you to swear on whatever weird voodoo gods you lemurs pray too that you'll leave us alone."
"Aw what?" Julien slumped in on himself. "But what if we are needing more things?"
"I knew you were lying." Skipper muttered. "Listen, that's the deal. Are you in or no?"
Julien frowned, squinting as the hamster he had for a brain worked overtime on its wheel. "Three weeks." He countered.
"One month." Skipper insisted.
"Two weeks?" Julien tired.
"I don't think you understand now negotiating works. One Month, or no batteries."
"Ugh!" He griped, petulantly crossing his arms. "Fine you grumpy fishy bird. I swear to the Sky Spirits."
Skipper smirked and nodded to Rico. "That's all I needed to hear. Rico?"
It took Rico a second, but eventually he lit up, nodding fiercely as he doubled over and choked up the pair of nine volt batteries Skipper had handed him last night. They landed with a metallic clink on the concrete.
Skipper gestured at the slimy batteries. "There you go Ringtail. Now take them and scram would you?"
Julien's mouth twisted up as he stepped away from the batteries. "Uhh… okay gross. Mort! Be getting the batteries!"
The mouse lemur clearly had no complaints as he scooped up the nine volts in his tiny arms, seemingly unaware of the thick layer of phlegm coating them. "I gotted them King Julien!"
"Ugh, would you shut up a little?" Julien snapped, turning haughtily as he started prancing his way back towards the Lemur habitat, his entourage following dutifully.
Maurice stopped to smile tiredly at Skipper. "I'll make sure he keeps his end of the bargain."
Skipper tried to reply, but was cut off. "Maurice you slow! Hurry it up! I haven't heard my tunes in forever!"
Maurice rolled his eyes and patted Skipper on the shoulder lightly. "Coming your majesty." He shouted back, the cynicism in his voice clear to anyone aside the Lemur king.
Private waddled up, trying not to trip on the wires dangling around his feet. "Well that was certainly lucky we had some spare batteries, wasn't it!"
Kowalski hummed, narrowing his eyes as he finally figured out his leaders game plan. "Yes… lucky." He mused.
Skipper shrugged. "Judge me all you want, that right there is the most unpredictable and annoying obstacle out of the way." He tilted his head and looking down at Kowalski. "What have you done today?" He taunted.
"Wait…" Private's jaw dropped. "Skipper! Did you steal Julien's batteries?!"
"And that right there is the power of borrowing young Private." Skipper smirked.
"But you didn't borrow them! I keep telling you, you have to ask!" Private cried, outraged, craning his neck to watch as the Lemurs jumped back into their own habitat.
Skipper at least had the sense to look guilty, rubbing the back of his neck. "I mean… He got them back didn't he?" He defended.
Rico shook his head, but he was still smiling. It wasn't entirely clear whose side he was on.
Kowalski reached out for the electrodes. There really wasn't time for this nonsense, and while he was thankful Skipper had the foresight to get the Lemurs out of their way for at least a few weeks, there was still so much left to do and he really didn't want to get sucked into this lecture. "Can you continue this later?" He pressed and Private lowered the mess of wires into his awaiting flippers.
He didn't wait to hear if he got his wish, climbing back down the ladder and depositing the electrodes on the table with a little more force than necessary. At least this explained that weirdness with the batteries, and it was admittedly a smart move. The Lemurs and their constant over the top nonsense were by far the biggest variable in this investigation, and getting them out of their way meant they wouldn't have to be distracted any more than strictly necessary. Still there had to have been a better way to go about it than this.
Whatever had been left of his mood before was well and truly gone now, and as he started to pick apart the tangles nest of wires in front of him his mind was already dissecting the work left to do and trying to figure out just how soon he could get it done.
The nagging fear was back as well. This had to work. There was no other way, and that was becoming more and more apparent with every dead end they were faced with. That and they fact they were being watched left him with a tightly knotted ball of dread in his stomach. There was no telling how much time they had, and the longer they spent on tired antics like this the less they had to figure it out before the consequences caught up to them.
The EGK machine was placed on the table next to him, but he didn't bother looking up to see who had placed it there, more concerned with untangling the mess in front of him.
They could go back to dealing with the Lemurs and the rest of the zoo once this was all said and done, but they had to get there before they would get back to normalcy.
Normalcy?
Would it be normal after this? A hand had dug into the complex web of dread and started twisting. His own memories had already proven that there really was no way of knowing what normal actually was, and if they had seemingly met in that crate it raised an important question he had yet to consider.
Had they even known each other before all of this? Or were they all simply strangers shoved into the same weird coincidence by fate? And what exactly would that mean for them once they got their memories back?
He grit his beak and roughly tugged an electrode free from the mass. The idea of that stomp the wombat re-match suddenly seemed like less of a possibility than ever before, and Kowalski would be lying if the thought wasn't making his heart squeeze uncomfortably.
It was hard to imagine a world where this team didn't exist, but the realisation that the chances were he was already living in it was coating his tongue in an acrid film. He could rationalise it, sure it was always scary when faced with the unknown, but the knowledge that the truth about their lives could be far from what they were experiencing now, together?
He didn't want to think about it. Because the facts remained. They were in danger here, and while in this moment it might have been nice to indulge the idea that they could stop where they were and forget all about this whole affair and return to what they knew, the storm cloud of what-if's would always linger. They had to know, and while it was hard to imagine the scenario where what Kowalski had could possibly have been better than what he had now, he needed answers.
The eyes came back to him unbidden, and he paused to shut his eyes and press on them with his flippers, trying to scrub the image back into the recesses of his brain where it couldn't distract him.
Maybe he was being pessimistic. The fire was certainly a red warning flag, but those eyes certainly weren't. After all there was always a chance that he had left something, or someone, very important behind, and he'd never know if he settled for a life spent playing cards and waiting to be shot.
It was a roll of the dice, and one that was made even scarier by the fact he had no way of analysing the possible outcomes. When there was no limit to the possibilities it started to become hard to see through the dizzying fog of those options and he was starting to get lost in them.
Groaning he shook his head and pressed tightly on his eyelids, trying to shove the thoughts back where they came from.
This was the only way. Leave it at that.
The feather coming loose from his already raw skin made him jump, biting down a whine as he dropped it on the table next to the others. Kowalski rubbed a flipper over the burning skin, the cold of the base nipping at the swelling and exposed skin.
When penguins moulted they never really lost feathers, the new ones simply pushed thought the old and left them in rough blooming patches across the body to be pulled from the thick interlocking matrix of the new feathers. As such, having a bald spot was proving very uncomfortable. Unfortunately, EKG electrodes don't stick to feathers, and with the extra layer of downy air trapping feathers beneath the sleek surface feathers there was no way they would be able to monitor anything even if they did.
Kowalski wasn't looking forward to revealing that part to the rest of the Rookery.
Grimacing he re-adjusted his grip on the tweezers and parted the feathers on his chest once again, revealing the small circular red spot of stinging exposed skin as he gripped at a feather on the edge and tugged it free.
The sting was sharp and again he bit down the cry. It also didn't help penguins had more feathers per inch of skin than any other birds.
Again he placed it on the table. The mountain of feathers would have been worrying if he didn't already know just how little skin that had even revealed. It was almost a blessing. If he ruffled the remaining feathers enough there was no way anyone would even be able to tell he had been ripping them out unless they were looking for it. Helpful, because no doubt if Alice saw them running around with Bald spots that would be a huge cause for concern.
The next feather did make him hiss, body jolting as his toes curled. That was enough, it would just have to do. He let the tweezers drop to the table, the three feathers he had pulled out coming loose from the metal. No wonder it hurt!
Kowalski quickly looked around, nervous his outburst had disrupted someone.
The couch they usually kept tucked away in storage had been re-assembled, and Private was clearly still passed out on top of it, his faithful lunacorn doll tucked under his flipper as his chest rose and fell evenly. Skipper was still watching the muted TV screen, eyes open far less than they were closed, clearly also bordering on sleep but refusing to give up the fight just yet.
He turned to the bunks. Rico was long gone, a screwdriver still by his side from when he had been using it. After seeing the Chimps off hours before he had returned only to be tasked with installing the blue-tinted reptile lights in each bunk. He'd barely finished the job before also falling into a fitful sleep.
He'd been tossing and turning the entire time he'd been asleep, face pinched and low growls escaping his throat every now and again. Kowalski hadn't seen him wake, but didn't doubt he had been at least a few times based on his breathing alone. Maybe that was why he wasn't always fully present? If he slept this poorly every night it would certainly go a long way to explaining it.
Sighing as quietly as he could Kowalski pushed the heap of downy feathers away, drawing the electrodes closer instead. The real test would be seeing if his rough wiring job had actually worked. The trailing wires crossed between the bunks and the EKG machine resting on the table and then spilling out into a nest of electrodes. Kowalski flicked on the machine and carefully attached the three he had set aside, one over the new bald spot on his chest, one on the inside of crook of his flipper, the feathers here not waterproof and flat enough to let it stick easily enough and the third attached to his temple.
The machine started quietly beeping, the top quarter of the screen activating with several pulsing coloured lines as it measured his current heart rate and set a baseline. If everything worked as supposed to the machine should notice when his heart rate dropped before kicking in, waiting until it climbed back up again before activating the blue lights and providing a short electric pulse.
He exhaled slowly, closing his eyes and settling as much as possible on the cinder block chair. He focused in on the gently burbling filter, casting his hearing out to try and listen for any stray sounds coming in from outside the base. Breathing with purpose he tried to picture a placid lake, imagining the cool clear water lapping gently against the stoned shore, the trees on the far off opposing bank hazy with distance.
Skipper shifted, the sound of feathers scratching on old fabric loud in the quiet bubble he had created. Rico made another low, trembling sound, more whine than outright growl.
He felt his eyebrows furrow, trying to sink into the curated peace and quiet his mind enough to lower his hear t rate.
The latent anxiety in his chest was hard to ignore, trying to force down the ever present panic and disaster theorising. The sky above the lake was a pastel blue, large puffy cumulonimbus clouds hanging low in the endless expanse.
The raw area of skin still burned slightly, leaving a tingling warmth under the sticky patch of the electrode.
It felt almost like the warmth he had felt in the memory of the eyes. A gentle lax heat warming his chest and spreading out across his lungs like fluttering moths wings. His imagined lake was almost the same colour as their irises had been, a soft blue-green, the threads of the iris interwoven so tightly the colour differentiation was almost impossible to pick out.
Who did they belong to? The nagging question still remained even after all this time. Some mystery person that had been in his life before all of this, with an untamed spray of dark lashes and a dull pink waterline.
Skipper had suggested Doris, and Kowalski would be lying if he said he wasn't hoping the same thing. She was an intrinsic memory after all, a dolphin he remembered even through erasure of his memories. Surely that meant something? He couldn't remember the first time her name had been brought up, but the low sting of heartache and the unsteady feeling of something missing had been tied so closely to the remaining ghost of her memory.
He had to have known her. And even with all of the jokes about how many times he had been rejected… perhaps it hadn't been as many as they had thought?
Sleeping had always been a struggle, and there were many reasons for it he could point to easily, but there had always been one he couldn't. This feeling of something misaligned, like the atoms around his body weren't interlocking the way they were supposed to. Something missing.
Maybe she was? It never hurt to hope.
Although now he was thinking about it, something was stirring in the back of his mind. Manfredi and Johnson. Skipper knew those names, and so did he.
He'd been so concerned there was a chance that this team hadn't known each other before, he hadn't stopped to look at the evidence, sure there had been none.
He knew Johnson. At least somehow, their name was so clear in his mind. Manfredi was a little fuzzier admittedly, but it didn't change the fact he knew those names. It wasn't confirmation bias, it was something deeper. And if they both remembered those names from before, perhaps they also knew each other.
It was certainly something to puzzle over.
He wasn't sure how long his eyes had been closed, so lost in thought time had become even more of an abstract than it usually was, but he was roused from them when the fish bowl clanged open.
His eyes shot open as he started from his seat, the sound so loud in the quiet of the room for a second it sounded like a gun firing. His heart leapt to action, pounding as adrenaline fired around his body.
Skipper had jumped to his feet, staring intently at the entrance with something like rage marring his features.
The electrodes were still attached to his body, and as the EGK monitor registered the uptick in his heart rate the blue halogen tube attached in the top bunk clicked to life, beaming a bright neon glow directly into Rico's face.
Rico woke with a start, flippers flailing as he twisted away from the light now blaring directly into his face and fell out of the open side of the bunk with an aborted shout. He hit the ground heavily just as Private sat up, frowning as he rubbed at one of his eyes with a balled flipper.
Kowalski also yelped, the shock of electricity directly to skin making him flinch as he yanked on the wires still connected to his body. At least that was all confirmed to be working.
A brown face appeared in the entrance, eyes wide and concerned.
"Is everything quite alright in there?" Mason asked nervously, taking in the state of disarray.
Rico lifted a flipper, still face down on the concrete and let out a pained moan.
Skipper sighed, rolling his eyes. "Flying Mackerel Simian, you sure know how to make an entrance." He griped. "I thought you were ringtail!"
"Fortunately no." Mason chuckled, descending quickly down the ladder, Phil following a moment later with a white plastic bag held between his teeth. "Just your faithful patsies with a delivery."
Phil pulled the bag from his teeth, crossing to the table to upend it over the surface. The cardboard boxes that emerged certainly looked promising even if a few of them did bounce over the edge and onto the floor.
Skipper raised an eyebrow, bending to pick up a stray box that had landed near his feet, squinting at the small writing along the edge of the cardboard. "I'm taking this to mean the mission was a success?"
Mason nodded, also collecting a stray box to place it on the table with the rest. "Went off without a hitch if I may so myself. Max sends his regards."
"I knew we could count on Moon-cat." Skipper chuckled.
Kowalski grimaced as he peeled the electrode from his chest, stuck more firmly than the others that had come away with his initial yank on the wires, eyes narrowed as he inspected it. "Did you manage to get everything?"
Phil signed something, nodding as he did. Mason didn't translate. Private had woken up fully in the interim, crossing over to where Rico was still sprawled on the concrete, Princess Self-Respectra doll in tow, and poking him in the shoulder nervously.
Kowalski got to his feet, trying to align the boxes on the table in the little space that wasn't covered in feathers or wires. "If you can read the names to me, I'll find something to mark them with so I can tell them apart and then you should be free to return to your habitat." He said, glancing around to look for the thick black marker he had put aside for that purpose.
Skipper cocked an eyebrow at Rico, the maniac waving a slow, lethargic flipper in Private's direction to try and shoo away his probing flippers. "What are you doing on the floor solider?"
Together he and Private managed to pry Rico from the floor, trying with mixed results to get him to follow their flippers as they waved them in front of his eyes as Phil slowly spelled out the medication titles to Mason who attempted to pronounce them back. It was enough to get the gist and Kowalski marked the boxes dutifully with symbols as quickly as he could.
They finished up just as Rico lost his patience and smacked Private's flipper away from his head with a scathing rattle of gibberish, throwing his flippers up haphazardly.
"I was only trying to help." The smallest penguin muttered with a frown, cupping his flipper to his chest.
Mason yawned, stretching out his arms. "If that will be all…?" He asked, casting a glance in Skippers direction.
He had already popped Rico upside the head with a sharp flipper. "Yeah, I think that's everything." He replied easily. "We owe you one primates."
Phil signed something quickly and Mason rolled his eyes, already turning to leave. "Yes, yes, just organise those bananas you promised and we'll happily call it even."
Private shouted a few profuse thank-you's at the animals retreating figures, only stopping when the fishbowl slid back into place and effectively shut them all inside.
Skipper placed his box on the table with the others, and Kowalski reached for it, comparing it to the rest before marking it accordingly. "So, we have the hologram running, evidently whatever weird set up you have running here is working," He jabbed at a rouge electrode, "And now every medication Kowalski's crazy science brain could ask for. I think we're about ready to put operation recovery to the test boys."
Kowalski watched as he picked up a rogue feather, eyeing the mountain of similar white and dusky feathers as well as the shining metal tweezers with suspicion.
"Well… Almost." Kowalski corrected meekly, reaching carefully for the tweezers as Skipper stared at the bare spot on his chest in mounting concern.
"… You're not serious."
Kowalski laughed nervously, clicking the tweezers together a few times. "Unfortunately… yes. I am."
From the bunks Rico let out a long suffering sigh.
Kind of a long one and kind of a boring one! Sorry but there has to be a story between all of the fun reveals, Right?
Not to much to say this time so I guess we'll keep it short and sweet!
See you all next week~
Peace!