Tails lay on a wheeled dolly that was slid under the belly of the Tornado, his transforming biplane. He wore a welding mask, and was repairing an armor plate that had cracked, torch in hand, when he heard his workshop door open.
"Tails?" called a high-pitched female voice.
Tails cringed inside and ground his teeth. "Just a minute, Amy," he called.
As he continued welding along the crack, inserting a strip of solder, he wondered what Amy wanted. She normally had nothing to do with him, and only appeared in his shop when she wanted something. Usually it was when she suspected that Sonic was there. The older Amy grew,
the more she annoyed Tails. He always figured that he might like her if she got over herself and stopped whining about everything. Like Sonic. One of Tails's chief delights was seeing Sonic duck into doorways and behind trees whenever Amy appeared.
Tails finished his weld, rolled out from under the biplane and flipped up his mask. Amy was standing beside the plane with her hands on her hips, looking fierce.
"What?" said Tails.
"Want to go on a date with me?" said Amy.
Tails stood up and stared at her. "What, is this some kind of joke?"
"No," said Amy, eyes flashing. "Sonic's getting MARRIED, so I'm looking for alternatives."
Tails said, "Oh," his mouth forming a perfect circle. He and Sonic had speculated about Amy's reaction, but they hadn't anticipated this.
"So I want to date you," said Amy, folding her arms. "You've always been nice to me, at least."
"Um." Tails didn't know what to say. He backed away from her with the excuse of setting down his torch. He would rather die than date Amy. Go anywhere with Amy. Be seen with Amy. The idea made his fur prickle with embarrassment.
Amy seemed to read his mind. "If you won't go on a date with me, I'm going to sit right here until you do."
Tails nodded without speaking. Maybe if he waited her out, she would go away. He grabbed another strip of solder and dove back under the biplane.
He heard a squeak, and the biplane shifted above him. Amy had climbed into the cockpit. "Hey Tails," Amy called over the side, "how do you start the engine?"
"Don't touch anything," said Tails. "Get out of there. If you knock this thing off the blocks with me down here--"
Amy interrupted him. "The computer screen is on, how cool! It's showing a picture of me! It's really good! When did you take this? I didn't know you had pictures of me!"
"It's the Tornado's identification program," Tails growled, welding as quickly as he could.
"So it knows who I am?" squealed Amy. "Make it talk, Tails! I know it can. Hey Tornado, say hi!"
Tails's patience was ebbing fast. "Amy, it's in sleep mode. It can't talk right now."
"Aww."
A moment of silence.
Then Amy started bouncing up and down in the seat. "Gonna go out with me yet?"
"Amy!" Tails yelled, bracing the Tornado's belly with his free hand. The craft was jumping off its support blocks.
"I'll stop it if you go out with me," said Amy, sounding giggly.
Tails's exasperation got the better of him. "Okay, fine, I'll go out with you! Now stop it!"
Amy climbed out of the cockpit, crouched and looked under the plane at him. "Okay, meet you at six o' clock. Bye, Tails!"
She bounced out of the workshop, slamming the door behind her, and Tails lay on his dolly in limp relief, wondering what he had just done.
It was late afternoon. Serena was in her hut, having just arrived back from school in New Mobitropolis, and was sorting her books and homework when the door open and Sonic barged in.
Serena whirled around, indignant that he hadn't knocked, but her protests died on her lips at the look on his face. Sonic was ashen, his eyes wide and shocked. He clutched a piece of paper in one hand, which he thrust at her. "Picked up my email after work," he said hoarsely.
Serena flattened out the paper and read the printed words. "Yo, Sonic. Hope you guys haven't forgotten me. I'm on my way home. Could you meet me at the Sapphire City train station at 2:00 PM on Friday, January 23rd? I need your help. -- Spark
Joy and shock hit Serena a blow in the chest. She looked up at Sonic, mouth hanging open.
"Spark! Spark's coming home!"
Sonic nodded. "I can't believe it. It's been, what, three, almost four years now?"
Serena nodded. Shortly after the ARK incident, Spark had unobtrusively slipped out of Knothole and had not been heard from since. He was their elder brother, a green hedgehog afflicted with recurring illness and a wanderlust that kept him on the move. Serena and Sonic both thought highly of him, and had quietly worried about him throughout his absence, not last because his previous occupation as one of Robotnik's assassins had left him with many enemies.
"January twenty-third," said Serena, looking at her wall calender, which sported closeups of bright flowers. "That's in two days. Think we could pick him up in the Tornado? If he needs help ..."
"Yeah, he may not be up for a walkathon," said Sonic. "I could teleport, but ... Spark ..." He trailed off. Spark's illness was aggravated by high amounts of power, electricity and chaos energy included. This was unfortunate, for Spark's special ability was generating a powerful static charge that he released through the palms of his hands.
"We can fly down, and I'll take my emerald, just in case," said Sonic. He was regaining his composure as the shock wore off. The color returned to his cheeks, and his quick smile reappeared. The pleasure of seeing his brother again was overwhelming all other concerns. "He might be up for a teleport. You want to come, right?"
"Heck yes," said Serena. "He sounds okay in his letter, but since when has mister high and mighty ever asked for help?"
"Yeah, I thought of that," said Sonic, eyes dropping anxiously to the letter. "I'd better ask Tails if he can take a flight on Friday. I hope he hasn't dismantled the Tornado again to put in its eyes."
"Yeah," said Serena, following him to the door. "I'm gonna show this letter to Slasher. She was pretty broken up when Spark left without a word."
"Really?" said Sonic, stepping outside. "She never said anything."
"She didn't have to," said Serena. "You're hopelessly unobservant, Sonic."
"Yeah, I know," said Sonic. He was about to say something else, but froze on Serena's doorstep,
staring at something. Serena stepped around him and froze, too.
Tails and Amy strode down the street toward them, arm in arm. As they drew closer in the evening twilight, it became apparent that Amy was steering. She was gazing anywhere but at Sonic. Tails, on the other hand, was looking helplessly at Sonic and shaking his head in wordless terror.
Sonic and Serena watched as the hapless pair strolled by. When they were opposite each other,
Amy met Sonic's eye and stuck out her tongue at him. She marched on, dragging Tails, who looked as if he was going to the chopping block.
Sonic doubled up and howled with laughter.
Amy stiffened, but did not look back, and Tails moaned. Sonic's laughter followed them all the way up the street.
"Sonic, you shouldn't laugh," said Serena, but she was having trouble hiding her own grin.
"Amy's trying to make your life miserable."
"Not just mine!" Sonic whooped, slapping his thighs. "Oh man, Tails will never life this one down! That's hysterical! Did you see his face?"
"Well, you laugh it up," said Serena, trying to sound irritated. "I'm gonna go talk to Slasher."
She could hear him laughing all the way to Slasher's hut.
Slasher lived in a tiny, one-roomed hut on the outskirts of Knothole, tucked away among the trees. A single light burned inside. Serena knocked, and a growling voice said, "Come in." Serena stepped in, closing the door behind her.
The hut was very warm, and had two pieces of furniture in it. One was a desk with three drawers.
The other was a round, nest-like bed on the floor, made of canvas stretched over straw. Curled up in this nest was a reptilian creature more than four times Serena's size, its long tail seeming to circle the whole room. Slasher's narrow head was lifted and curved, cobra-like, to face the door.
Her nostrils flared as Serena stepped in, and the velociraptor said, "Oh, hello Serena." Her voice was low and gravelly, as if her vocal chords were more suited to roars and screeches. A pair of gold-feathered wings were tucked to her sides, covering her body. They were biomechanical implants, and worked well as wings and blankets. A book was clutched in her three-fingered hands, and she laid it aside and sat up on her haunches like a dog.
Serena sat down on the edge of the nest and handed the dinosaur Spark's letter. "Sonic got this today. Thought you might be interested."
Slasher's green eyes swept the few lines once, then several times. She fixed one eye on Serena.
"Spark's coming back?"
"Yes," said Serena. "Isn't that great?"
Slasher read the letter again. To anyone else she was expressionless, but Serena had been friends with the raptor for years and had learned to read her face. Slasher was overcome. She blinked her third eyelid rapidly to keep back tears. Her claw was rocky-steady as she handed the letter back to Serena, but her voice had the smallest of tremors as she said, "I've been so worried about him .
I've tried tracking him, but he hid them too well. He blends in, that one. He should have been born a chameleon."
Serena patted the raptor's shoulder, just below her wing joint. "I know. We're worried that he's sick or something, because he said he needed help."
"Yes," murmured Slasher, almost growling. "He would wait until he has a flare-up to come home. But it must not be affecting his mind this time. He sounds lucid enough in the letter."
"Yeah." Serena looked down. "I was wondering if he might respond to some natural treatment.
You know. Fruits, vegetables, herbs, that sort of thing."
"It wouldn't hurt to try," said Slasher. "Who knows what condition the little idiot's gotten himself into?" She sounded irritated, but Serena knew that Slasher's worry about Spark's safety had become worry about his health.
Serena stood up. "Just thought I'd tell you that. Oh yeah. Did you know that Amy's dating Tails?"
Slasher's teeth bared in an ear-to-ear grin. "Is that was Sonic was laughing about?"
"Yep."
"Well! No wonder." Slasher chuckled deep in her throat, sounding like a boiling kettle. "I wonder what will come of that?"
"I shudder to think," said Serena.
Tails escaped Amy at eight o' clock and locked himself in his workshop. There he climbed into the Tornado's cockpit and sat with his knees drawn to his chest, nursing his wounded pride.
After Sonic had laughed at them, Amy had been in a foul mood. They went to New Mobitropolis and had dinner, which consisted of angst with venom sauce, and Tails cut it short with the excuse of leaving the Tornado running.
Tails wanted to crawl into a hole and never see anyone ever again. Amy was bad enough, but the way Sonic had laughed ... Tails's feelings were hurt, even though he knew that Sonic would laugh. Tails had laughed at Sonic all these years because of Amy, and now the tables were turned. He just hadn't expected it to hurt so much.
A soft knock at the door made him sit up with a jerk. Had Amy followed him? He didn't want to see anyone anyway. "Go away," he growled.
"Tails, it's me," Sonic called softly from outside. "Mind opening up for a minute?"
Tails glared at the door. No, he did not want to open that door and let Sonic in. Because of Sonic,
Amy had humiliated Tails, and on top of that, Sonic had laughed at him. A wave of heat spread down his neck at the very thought.
"Going to laugh at me some more?" asked Tails.
Sonic's voice was so quiet that Tails could hardly hear him through the door. "I'm really sorry,
little bro. That's what I wanted to talk about."
Oh. Tails felt the resentment ebb inside of him and be replaced by a different sort of embarrassment; the humiliation that he had been so angry at his best friend. He climbed out of the Tornado, ran to the door, unlocked and opened it.
Sonic stepped in, wearing a jacket with his hands thrust in the pockets. Tails closed the door behind him and stood looking at him, wary and expectant.
"I really am sorry about all this," said Sonic. "Amy's out to hurt everybody, I think. "'Hades hath no fury like a woman scorned', right?"
Tails thought of dinner. "You can say that again. I've never seen her like this."
Sonic laid a hand on Tails's shoulder. His green eyes were kind. "Don't let her get to you, little bro. We both know she goes through fads like this. Remember the bunny ears?"
Tails snorted with laughter. Amy had found a pair of costume bunny ears and wore them everywhere for almost a month.
Sonic grinned, too. "She'll get tired of this after a while, too."
"Could you talk to her?" pled Tails. "Maybe you could call her off or something. I can't stand being laughed at, Sonic!"
"I'll try," said Sonic with a sigh, shaking his head in exasperation. "I don't think it'll do any good,
though. Sally and I aren't going to break up or anything."
"I tried telling her that," said Tails, rubbing his temples. "She doesn't get it."
Sonic rolled his eyes. "She always pulls stuff like this. If she had played hard to get, I might have been interested. I don't like being chased. It's kind of ... shocking."
Tails nodded. "I don't like it, either. That, and she's so whiny." Their gripes about Amy was comforting and familiar; both of them had complained about her for years. Then Sonic asked if Tails could fly them down to Sapphire City in a few days, and Tails agreed.
By the time Sonic left, Tails was feeling cheerful again. The whole Amy situation seemed like a joke, and he felt able to face Knothole tomorrow. Sonic was on his side, even if he did laugh.
That was all that mattered.
Hundreds of miles to the south, a winter storm system lay over the coast, drenching it in rain. It was a frigid, soaking rain that penetrating roofs and doorframes, to say nothing of coats,
umbrellas and fur.
It was nearly midnight, and the streets of Sapphire City were empty. No one in their right mind would venture out this late when it was raining this hard. But the black hedgehog had not been in his right mind in weeks. He walked down the middle of the road, head bowed and shoulders hunched, the water dripping from the end of his quills, elbows and nose. His footsteps rand against the asphalt, betraying his metal foot, and the rain plinked on his metal arm and leg as it did on nearby parked cars.
Huddled in the crook of his right arm--the non-robotic one--was a black chao. He was invisible in the darkness, camouflaged against Shadow's soaked fur. He held a limp scrap of paper in one round paw, and his head turned this way and that as he squinted through the rain, reading addresses.
Shadow raised his mechanical hand to his mouth and coughed: a wracking, tearing sound that forced him to double over. He straightened up again, breathing slowly and carefully. His breath rattled in his throat. "Nox," he whispered, rubbing his neck, "where are we?"
"Another block, I think," said the chao, his voice clear as crystal compared to his master's harsh rasp. "We're almost there."
One of Shadow's eyes--his left one--glowed a steady red, like Mecha's. But while Metal Sonic's red eyes had taken on kinder hues of late, Shadow's eye shone with hot malice. The mind that governed this eye was called Mekion, the deadly damaged robot who had consumed half the hedgehog's body. Shadow's natural eye--the right one--did not glow. His eyelid drooped with exhaustion, and blinked often against the raindrops. He and Nox were shivering, but Shadow merely held the chao's warm body a little closer to himself and trudged on.
Mekion was there in Shadow's mind, a cold, silent presence, as indifferent as a reptile, waiting.
Shadow's will coincided with Mekion's at the moment, so their struggle for mastery was at a temporary truce. Neither wanted to die. Both understood the importance of finding shelter, and both knew that they had one ally in the world aside from Mecha. Shadow had the additional concern of Nox. The chao was tough, but he disliked cold and wet as much as Shadow did, and prolonged exposure would kill anyone.
Shadow coughed again, tasting blood this time. He staggered to a halt until the fit passed, then walked on. Nox looked up at him anxiously. "Shadow ... is Mekion making you sick?"
Shadow shook his head. Mekion's control was mental, and he could not harm Shadow's organs.
This was a burning pain in his throat, probably some kind of illness. It hurt to talk. He pointed at the paper in Nox's paw, and Nox resumed looking for the right address.
They turned a corner, and Nox said, "There's the apartment complex. We need room thirty-nine."
Shadow nodded. He opened the gate and stepped into the complex's courtyard. Parking garages lined three sides of it, and rising above them were the doors and windows of the apartments.
Mekion's eye zoomed in and focused on the numbers on the doors. Shadow had not asked Mekion to do this, but used the zoom anyway. Mekion acted without Shadow's permission all the time now, since Dr. Robotnik had damaged Mekion in an attempt to modify his loyalty setting.
Mekion was loyal to none. Shadow hated and feared this other personality--this artificial side of him that had no scruples, no problem with backstabbing and killing as long as it benefitted them in some way.
Door 39. Shadow pointed it out silently to Nox, and clanked across the courtyard to the stairs. He was acutely aware of the racket he made, and moved slower to soften the noise. He climbed the stairs carefully and crossed a landing to the target door. He rubbed his sore throat and knocked.
After a moment a light ignited behind the blinds, and Shadow heard footsteps behind the door.
The deadbolt clicked open, and the door opened four inches. Shadow could see the safety chain in the light of the lamp inside. A rumpled human in a bathrobe squinted out at the hedgehog.
"What do you want?"
"Nick, it's Shadow," whispered the hedgehog. "I need your help."
The human said, "Shadow?" He stood there for several seconds, scrutinizing the black hedgehog in the rain. Then he unhooked the safety chain and opened the door wide. "Come in, quick,
before somebody sees you."
Shadow stepped into the warmth of the apartment and stood dripping on the carpet. Nick closed and locked the door behind him, then said, "Come back here and dry off in the bathroom."
Shadow followed the human. The apartment was a studio, which meant that the kitchen, living room and bedroom were all in one room. The bathroom was the only separate room. There was hardly any furniture--a sofa, a table with a few chairs, a cot instead of a real bed. Nick himself was in his early twenties with reddish brown hair, hazel eyes, and twenty-four hours worth of stubble on his face. His hair and eyebrows were growing back, and he looked as if he had a very short haircut now, instead of looking like a radiation patient.
Nick showed Shadow into the tiny bathroom, and almost jumped out of his skin when Nox said,
"You don't have to be so scared. Nobody knows we're here."
"What is that thing?" gasped Nick, leaping back.
"My chao," whispered Shadow, setting him on the sink. "His name is Nox--" His throat caught and Shadow coughed violently, gripping the sink for support. Nick watched from the doorway,
looking shell shocked. Shadow recovered and straightened up, panting and rubbing his aching throat.
Nox said, "I think he's sick, mister Nick. Which is weird, because he can't get sick."
"Join the club," said the human with a wry smile, running a hand through the sparse growth on his scalp. "You ought to try living when you're supposed to be dead. I've been all but excluded from my nanotech firm because of you, Shadow."
Shadow unfolded a towel and rubbed Nox dry, then started on himself. "I wish I were dead," he whispered savagely. "I apologize for imposing on you, Nick. But you are the only being in the world for whom Mekion does not carry a deep grudge." He had to stop and cough again. Nick frowned and vanished.
As Shadow finished drying himself, the human reappeared with a cup of something that smelled lemony and steamed. "This will help your throat," said Nick. "Come in here."
Shadow beckoned to Nox, re-entered the living area, and sat on the floor. Shadow held the mug in both hands and sipped the liquid. There was alcohol in it, for he could taste it at the back of his tongue, but it did feel good to his throat and chilled insides. Nick brought a smaller cup of lemon juice for Nox, but without the brandy. Then Nick sat on the couch and gazed at the black hedgehog and chao. "So what brings you here?" he asked. "I never thought I'd see you again,
Shadow."
"It's quite simple," whispered Shadow. "Dr. Robotnik has extensively damaged Mekion. I could no longer remain in Metal Sonic's presence. But due to the weather, I had to seek shelter somewhere. You are perhaps my only other friend in the world." So much talking made him cough, but the hot toddy had loosened up his throat, and it didn't hurt as much.
Shadow and Nick kept an eye on each other as Shadow drank. They had been thrown together through unfortunate circumstances; first Nick was part of a team intended to experiment on Shadow, but when Nick tried to escape, he was used as a test subject, himself. Dr. Robotnik had forced Shadow to all but incinerate Nick with chaos energy, but because of special nanites in Nick's bloodstream, his body had absorbed the power instead. Nick's clothing and hair had been burned off, and it was taking a while to grow back.
Shadow and Nick had seen each other suffer, and had been chained together for a long period. It forged a bond of friendship between them, unlikely as it was; Nick had been kind to Shadow even while Shadow had been in pain, and now Shadow was calling on that kindness once more.
As the black hedgehog sat there with a hot drink in his hands in a dry, warm haven, he felt a sick knot ease in his stomach. Tonight he could rest.
Nick regarded Shadow as a dangerous individual whom he was thankful considered him a friend. Like being on a hitman's good side. Nick had grown up in the Mobian culture, and liked them better than humans, but Shadow was different. As Shadow sipped his drink, his natural eye roamed the apartment, missing nothing. But his digital eye stared straight ahead. His brain was so divided that his eyes tracked separately, like a chameleon, and it gave Nick the creeps.
Nox had been watching Shadow and Nick, and reading their feelings. He broke the silence with his high, clear voice. "You like Shadow, don't you, mister Nick? Shadow likes you, too. But you're both afraid."
Nick stared. "You can read minds?"
"Just feelings," whispered Shadow. "He is a sympath."
Nick thought this was just as bad as mind-reading, but said nothing.
Nox hung his head. "Sorry. Shadow's told me not to tell strangers how they feel."
Disturbed, Nick jumped up and began to pace. Shadow had seen him do this while imprisoned back in the lab. Nick was nervous and unsettled. "Shadow," he said, gazing at the floor as he walked, "I wish I could let you stay here, but I just can't. I'm barely making the rent each month,
and ..." He trailed off. Did Shadow understand financial problems? He sneaked a look at him.
Both of Shadow's eyes were following Nick's motions, and Nick wondered if this was a good thing.
Shadow shrugged one shoulder, and for the first time Nick realized that the hedgehog was wearing a black knapsack over one shoulder. As Shadow set it in his lap, Nick saw that the bag had once been a backpack, but Shadow's metal spines had shredded the left strap. The bag itself was tiny and grubby, as if Shadow had recovered it from a dumpster. Inside was a glowing orange gem, and at the sight of it Nick's skin prickled all over. The chaos energy in his body responded to the presence of its power source, and Nick had a sudden urge to snatch up the gem.
Shadow pulled something out of the bag and held it out. Nick took it. A debit-card,
multi-national, under the name of one M. Echa II. Nick almost dropped it. "Shadow, did you--did you steal this from Metal Sonic?"
"He gave it to me," whispered Shadow. His robot eye was again staring straight ahead, while his real eye was fixed on Nick. "It's his way of looking after me, even though he cannot be here. Use it to buy supplies."
Nick set the card on the table as if it was red-hot. "He, uh, won't mind?"
"No," said Shadow. "If he does, I shall explain the situation. Mecha is reasonable about such things."
Nick wasn't certain that he liked this, but he nodded and swallowed. It looked like he would be hosting a split-personality android and mind-reading chao for a while.
Afternoon light streamed through the windows of the Station Square train station in Sapphire City, throwing warm yellow squares on the floor. It was two days later, and Sonic, Serena and Tails were waiting nervously on the platform. The train would enter the station through a long glass tunnel, and every few minutes one of them would lean out and peer down the tunnel.
"It's late," said Tails, checking his wristwatch.
"Really late," said Serena, watching the station clock. It was nearly three. "Did they run off the rails or something?"
"You're asking me?" said Sonic. He was pacing up and down the platform, his walk so fast that Tails and Serena would have had to run to keep up. "I'll bet I know what happened. Spark built up a static charge and touched the frame of the car, and shorted out the whole train."
"He wouldn't do that, would he?" said Serena, wide-eyed.
"He couldn't do that," said Tails calmly. "A power surge would throw the circuit breakers,
knocking out power to that car, but it wouldn't affect the engine."
"Figures, I should have asked the Professor," said Sonic, still pacing.
"Sonic--" Serena began, but Tails interrupted her.
"Here it comes!"
All three hurried to the edge of the platform to gaze down the tunnel. The train was advancing at a leisurely pace, gleaming in the sunlight with the shadows of the tunnel supports flicking over it in stripes. It entered the station with a screech of brakes, pulled past in a gust of diesel exhaust,
and finally halted. The doors opened, and people climbed out, talking and hauling their luggage.
The three Mobians clustered together, only half the size of the disembarking humans, and peered through the forest of legs for a glimpse of green fur.
There he was. They saw him framed in the doorway, carrying a single dufflebag, looking around uncertainly, and glancing over his shoulder into the train car. Then he saw them, and his familiar mischievous grin lit up his face.
A moment later Spark was being hugged by Serena, and having his hands pumped by Sonic and Tails. His bag was wrenched from him, and he was escorted out of the station to the parking lot,
where the Tornado awaited them in car-mode.
Once away from the noise and bustle of the station, Sonic had a chance to study his brother in the clear, rain-washed sunlight. Spark was an inch taller than Sonic, with lime-green quills. When Sonic had last seen him, Spark had a black stripe down the top of his head that ringed his eyes like a raccoon's mask. Sonic was disturbed to see that the black stripe and mask were growing.
The fur around Spark's muzzle and ears was mottled with black, as if an infection was slowly spreading across his body. Black spots had even appeared down his back and legs. In addition,
Spark was very thin, as if he had not been eating well, and his fur had an unhealthy odor. Sonic,
Tails and Serena sneaked looks at each other, reading the same alarm in everyone's eyes. The prodigal had returned with the marks of his exile heavy upon him.
"Hey Spark," said Sonic, hefting his green chaos emerald, "do you think you could handle a teleport?"
Spark's eyes darted from the jewel to Sonic and back, looking surprised and amazed. "So ... it's true?" said Spark softly. "You can really use chaos power like they say?"
Sonic was taken aback. "You mean to teleport? Yeah, that's easy. I could even do that with Super Emeralds."
Spark looked at Serena and Tails. "Whoa, modest, too! What have you guys done to him while I've been gone?"
Serena and Tails grinned. "Give him a minute," said Tails. "His ego will come out on top."
"I get no slack from you guys," said Sonic, faking annoyance. "Anyway Spark, can you handle a teleport?"
"Sure, that'd be great," said Spark, glancing over his shoulder at the station. "I can't wait to get home."
Sonic made them all climb into the Tornado, and teleported the Tornado and its contents back to Knothole, placing them just behind Tails's workshop.
Their rapid travel was fortunate. The last person to disembark from the train was a Mobian dog with two swords hanging from his belt. He was almost as tall as a human, and wore a regal, if outdated, blue robe with silver fringes and needlework. He stood on the platform as it emptied,
his sleek head in the air, sniffing. Then he strode down the steps and out the door, guided by his nose.
He walked all the way to the parking lot, stooping once in a while to sniff at the ground. The thief's scent was fresh and close. He had been here. But the scent ended in the parking lot. The silver retriever cast about in circles, his white fur gleaming in the sun, robe billowing about his muscular body. The scent was gone. His quarry had vanished into thin air.
No. The thief couldn't have escaped so easily. Drasyre could have grabbed him on the train, if not for the other passengers. The thief had kept moving, too, ducking and hiding throughout the journey. Any longer and Drasyre would have caught him.
Of course, the thief also had a chaos emerald. Drasyre knew how powerful Chaos Gems were.
The thief must have had a contact who could Chaos-Jump him to somewhere else.
The silver dog sank down against the wall of the train station, not caring if his robe was soiled by the grimy asphalt, and held his head in both hands. What was he going to do now? He was far from home, and couldn't get back, because he had no currency for this territory. He needed that Chaos Emerald. Everything within him screamed for it. That emerald was HIS, and without it he was lost. Doomed.
Drasyre indulged in ten minutes of self-pity, then climbed to his feet again. Surely he could find help. There must be police here somewhere.
An hour later, the silver retriever was seated on a chair in a police station, filing a report. The police reporter was a middle-aged woman with short grey hair, and took no nonsense from anyone, least of all Mobians. "Name?" she said.
"Drasyre Vissiri Salacin," he replied in a cultured accent. He pronounced his words carefully, as if New Mobian was not his first language. He spelled all three names for her.
"Where are you from?" she asked.
"Seliris Island," said Drasyre. "I ... reside and work there."
"What field of work?"
"Pardon?" said Drasyre, ears flattening slightly. "I do not work in fields."
"No," said the reporter impatiently, "what do you do?"
"Oh. I am a caretaker."
She wrote this down, and said, "Identification number?"
Drasyre looked blank.
The reporter said, "Your government assigns you a number at birth."
"I was born more than two centuries ago," said Drasyre. "Your government did not exist then."
The reporter raised an eyebrow. "How old are you?"
Drasyre gazed at the ceiling a moment. "Two hundred twenty-six this June."
The reporter wrote "26" on her form. She looked distinctly irritated. "You said that something was stolen from you?"
"Yes," said Drasyre. "A large white em--diamond. It was the crown of my collection."
The reporter wrote for several seconds, then said, "Can you give me a description of the thief?"
"Hedgehog," said Drasyre, eyes unfocusing as he gazed into his memory. "Between three and four feet tall, green and black quills. His eyes were green or yellow. He had dark colored boots.
Grey, perhaps." He paused, thinking. "Oh yes. His left arm was made of metal. I believe the word is 'robotic'."
The reporter nodded. "Where did the robbery take place?"
"On Seliris Island," said Drasyre. "I tracked him here, to Sapphire City. We arrived on the two o'
clock train, but he eluded pursuit and vanished."
The reporter looked interested as she noted this down. "Very well. We have a good chance of identifying the thief. Where can we reach you?"
Drasyre looked at the four walls, remembering that he had nowhere to go. "Ah. Yes. That. Well,
you understand that I have the best of intentions, but the fact of the matter is--"
"He's with me, Darlene," said a voice behind him.
Drasyre turned to see a crocodile standing behind his chair. The reporter nodded. "Very well,
Vector. I have your cell number."
Drasyre stood up. He and Vector were the same height. Vector wore a trenchcoat that nonetheless could not hide his thick, scaley tail and long snout. Vector extended a hand, and Drasyre shook it.
"Nice to meet you, Drasyre," said the crocodile. "I'm Vector of the Chaotix Detective Agency down in Rio del Fuego. Overheard your report. Want to talk over lunch?"
"That would be marvelous," said Drasyre, smiling and showing a handsome set of flawless white teeth.