Something was very wrong, but Bogo couldn't quite put a finger on what it was. Everything seemed to be as it should, considering what had just happened. The queen and princess were both safe, and he and Commandant Totchli were in Lord Cerdo's carriage, the pig resting in the bed that was the lone piece of furniture. The traitorous fox Nicholas, in a shocking act of disloyalty, had... Had what, exactly?

Bogo frowned as he considered the problem. He could remember, very distinctly, that he had brought Totchli and Nicholas along as he went to question Cerdo. For some foolish reason, he had suspected that the pig might have some involvement in Lady Cencerro's plot, but of course he had been wrong. But what had Nicholas done? The fox was a traitor, he was sure of that. He had a half-written order in his hooves proclaiming that Nicholas had been stripped of his rank in the City Guard and was to be killed on sight should he be so unwise as to try returning. But what had the fox actually done?

"Is there a problem, Lord Bogo?" Cerdo asked.

Bogo looked up from his writing to look at the pig. Totchli was standing by the bed, quite still, and Cerdo had a small half-smile across his face. After the traitor had thrown himself off the edge of the crevasse that defined Phoenix's perimeter, they had returned to the carriage Cerdo was recovering in, not answering any questions from the guardsmammals who had been close enough to see it happen. Something about the chain of events nagged at Bogo, and he tried putting his thoughts into words. "Why did Nicholas run away and jump?" he asked, "It doesn't make sense."

"He's a traitor," Totchli said, all but spitting the words with a vehemence that was surprising to see on a rabbit, "Almost as bad as the Betrayer."

Cerdo chuckled dryly. "It's always interesting to see what associations form," he said, looking first to Totchli before turning his attention back to Bogo, "But I must be ever so careful about what I say. Totchli, I need you to go retrieve a torc from the City Guard's supplies. This one."

Using a scrap of paper, he scribbled out a series of letters and numbers, which Bogo recognized as the sequence that uniquely identified a torc. "Make sure it's this one, or it won't work," he said as he gave the slip to her.

Totchli nodded, her expression hard, and she left the carriage at once. Something about the way that Totchli, a commandant in the City Guard, had obeyed a mammal who had never served seemed like it should have bothered Bogo, but it didn't. Bogo could feel his frown deepen, and became intensely aware of Cerdo's eyes upon him. "My apologies, Lord Bogo," Cerdo said, the words seeming perfectly sincere, "This must be confusing for you, I know. The process isn't perfect, but what is?"

The pig raised one hoof in a philosophical shrug before continuing. "But for now, I'm going to need to know everything you do. I want you to stand there and tell me every preparation you made," he said, "Was it only Totchli you gave a letter to?"

Bogo's head suddenly felt as though it had been struck by a bolt of lightning. It was as though his mind was being torn in pieces, and it was all he could do not to cry out. He might have fallen, but it felt as though his hooves had become rooted to the floor, completely immovable. Memories poured into his head, pieces of a puzzle he hadn't even realized he had been missing. There had been so many conversations alone with Cerdo, so many moments he had been ordered to forget. A deep and boiling rage began gathering in the pit of his stomach, and he wanted nothing more than to step forward put an end to the threat the pig posed.

But his feet still wouldn't move.

Bogo wanted to refuse to answer Cerdo's questions, to give him nothing to work with. But instead his mouth opened and words came out. "Yes," he said.

Cerdo smiled. "I have to be more specific, don't I? Did you write other letters?"

"Yes," Bogo said, his traitorous mouth giving himself up.

"Ah," Cerdo said, "So you wrote letters but didn't give them to anyone. Who were they for?"

"The queen, the princess, Tzitz Quit, Commandant Totchli, and my wife Maria."

"Where are those letters now?"

"Totchli has all of them," Bogo said, again being betrayed by his own body.

It was a kind of horror he had never felt before, to have no control over what he did or said. He desperately wanted to move and he couldn't. He couldn't even stop himself from talking. "That was a poor decision," Cerdo said, "But understandable, I suppose. If you were wrong, surely you wouldn't want evidence that made you look crazy spread out to the rest of the kingdom. But that's one less concern, at least. Now there's only the fox, and I'm sure Totchli will be quite capable of following up on that."

Cerdo seemed to spot something in Bogo's face. "Was there something you wanted to say, Lord Bogo?" he asked, his tone mild.

"You've betrayed your queen and your kingdom," Bogo said.

There was a kind of fierce pleasure in speaking the words he wanted to, even knowing it was solely because Cerdo had allowed it. "You're a traitor worse than the Betrayer, and I'd stop you if I could."

"But you can't," Cerdo said, sounding as though he was simply reminding Bogo of a trivial fact.

Still, they seemed to cut down to Bogo's heart. Knowing that he was being manipulated only made it worse. He wanted to think that it was simply the result of Cerdo's command, but the justification felt weak. False. He couldn't stop Cerdo's plan, whatever it was. "And I wouldn't call what I'm doing traitorous. I've never told you why I've gone to all this effort, have I Lord Bogo?"

Bogo's head was full of memories that hadn't been there before, memories that filled in all sorts of gaps. How Cerdo had taken control of Jaime's charge and made him allow Bogo to strike him, and then ordered Bogo, Corazón, and Cencerro to forget it. How he had been forced to overlook the obvious connection between Cerdo and torcs, and so many other pieces of evidence to twist his investigation and force him along a single path. Even how, upon his last visit to Oztoyehuatl's Jail, Cerdo had gotten him to allow him to visit Alfonso in what could have only been preparations to alter his testimony. The one thing that wasn't in those memories was an explanation of any sort. Cerdo had been rather tight-lipped about that, simply giving Bogo orders without ever explaining why.

"No," Bogo said at last.

"Then perhaps I should," Cerdo said, "I could order you to believe in my cause, but I'd like to think you'd support my plan if you knew all the details."

"I doubt it," Bogo said, and Cerdo chuckled again.

"Yes, well, that can change," he said, and the casual nature of the words made them all the more sinister in Bogo's mind.

"It started with the work of my grandfather and father," Cerdo said, "When torcs were first invented, they were supposed to save the kingdom from ever falling into civil war again. How could it? If citizens can't hurt the City Guard—and surely you're not so naive as to believe it was ever about preventing citizens from hurting each other—then rebellion is impossible. Oh, the City Guard itself could split, I suppose, but the mammals at the top have the same protection as the City Guard itself. With careful management, things should have stayed stable."

Cerdo actually jumped out of his bed to begin pacing, although Bogo couldn't help but notice that the pig was quite careful to stay outside Bogo's reach. "But that hasn't been the case. The prince consort was assassinated, of that I'm sure. And that was really what set me down this path," he said, and the smile he gave Bogo was almost disarming.

"If a member of the royal family could be killed, that was all the evidence I needed to prove that the torcs simply don't work as they should. And surely you've seen the same for yourself as a member of the City Guard. Mammals still commit crimes and murder each other. The more obvious murders, the crimes of passion, result in the murderer dying as well as the victim, but there are more subtle ones too. Poisoning, or death by a thousand cuts where each cut is inflicted by a different mammal, or even forcing the victim to kill someone else and so die themselves. Terrible crimes that thugs on the street can and sometimes do get away with. And so I realized a simple truth that no one else could see."

Cerdo's voice was becoming more passionate, more beseeching, and Bogo wondered if Cerdo had practiced this little performance specifically for his benefit. The pig certainly did seem to enjoy the sound of his own voice, but Bogo couldn't stop listening and absorbing every word. "A civil war is inevitable. It's the endless cycle of history, playing out as it always has. Sometimes the enemy is external, and sometimes it's internal, but there will always be a next war. Torcs can't stop that, and if anything they're only making it worse. If a civil war were to start now, it would be the bloodiest war ever fought, the torcs making the death toll far worse than any previous conflict.

"And then I realized the solution. The problem wasn't predators or prey, the original inhabitants of Zootopia or the ones who came as part of Oveja I's conflict, the rich or the poor. It's simply in the nature of mammals themselves. We form our own petty little divisions and lash out at other groups, no matter how well anyone tries making peace. And any solution that could be tried won't work in the long run. If the poor rise up and kill the rich, it's only a matter of time before a new wealthy class emerges. If chimeras are wiped out, some new group will take their place as being despised freaks of nature. It's a problem without a solution.

"Until I realized that the answer was that torcs didn't go far enough. They can change the behavior of mammals, of that we have plenty of proof. There are fewer violent crimes now than there were before their invention, and my grandfather is to be applauded for that. But the only permanent solution is to change the nature of mammals. And for that, I've accomplished something no one else has."

Cerdo's smile widened, the pig seeming incredibly pleased with himself. To Bogo, his words sounded like the deranged ramblings of a mammal cursed to madness by the gods, but Cerdo's sincerity shone through like a beacon. Whatever he was leading up to, he believed in it fully. "I invented a new kind of torc, one that could be disguised as the standard torc. One that would affect the mind rather than the body. But even with alchemy, I can't impress enough upon you how difficult my torcs are to make. Even if every alchemist in the kingdom devoted themselves to churning them out, it'd take too long to make enough for every mammal in the kingdom and roll them out. The problem, you see, was that I couldn't rely on the alchemical array that surrounds the Middle Baronies and makes regular torcs work. The genius of my grandfather was that it allowed each torc to be quite simple and easily made, whereas mine are unimaginably more complex as a result of not having that array to use. But I planned slowly, converting mammals to my cause as I tested my new torcs. I had to be very careful, of course, because if anyone figured out what I was doing it'd all be over.

"Once I had worked out the major problems with the design, it was time to figure out how to deploy them. And it occurred to me that Phoenix would be the perfect test. So I spent years constructing a new array around Phoenix to test the same basic concept as my torcs to bind mammals to my will. If it worked, after all, I could modify the array surrounding Zootopia itself to do the same and usher in a new golden age. Imagine it!"

Bogo did. He imagined a world of dutiful mammals who wouldn't even so much as litter, let alone steal or murder. Mammals who could be commanded, as Cerdo had commanded him, to do whatever their master ordered. A world where Cerdo was unchallenged and unquestioned. "You want to make everyone your slaves," Bogo said, not even trying to hide his scorn.

"Slaves?" Cerdo asked, sounding as though Bogo had wounded his pride, "Certainly not. The citizens of Zootopia will live their lives as they always have. I'll simply make the idea of committing crime of any sort literally unthinkable to them. It'll be an endless time of peace completely unmatched in history."

"And what about the queen and the princess?" Bogo challenged, "What about Jaime and Jorge de Cuvier and the Cencerros?"

"I haven't been able to get the royal family under my control yet," Cerdo acknowledged with a dip of his head, "But if I had to sacrifice one of them to get the other, so be it. A single life, even that of a member of the royal family, isn't worth the millions of life that I'll improve. And as for the others, the same applies. Small sacrifices to get the pieces where I want them."

Bogo wasn't sure what he was going to do with everything he was learning. He wasn't even sure if he could do anything with it. He still couldn't move his legs to go anywhere, and it seemed inevitable that Cerdo would exert his control over him again. But perhaps Cerdo would make a mistake. Perhaps the pig would give him an opportunity, and Bogo wanted to be able to capitalize on it. "So your plan was to get the royal family out to Phoenix all along?" he challenged.

Cerdo laughed. "It's a nice bonus, but the real prize is the army. By now, you must realize what happened to the residents of Phoenix."

With a terrible certainty, Bogo thought that he did. "You've already tested your array once," he said, and Cerdo's approving nod made his flesh crawl under his fur.

"I did," Cerdo said, "And it worked flawlessly. Every single mammal in Phoenix—excepting Nicholas and Totchli, safe as they were in a cell that blocked alchemy—was bent to my will. The citizens of Phoenix and the army that surrounded it are one and the same. They're hiding in the ruins under the city now, if you were wondering."

"So what happens next?" Bogo asked.

"Once you order your army to enter Phoenix to investigate, it gets activated again. When the bulk of the City Guard is mine, putting the royal family under my command will be trivial. And then I can modify the array around the Middle Baronies with official orders, and if anyone thinks to report it as suspicious my loyalists in the City Guard will prevent anything from stopping the work. You see, I have no need to declare myself king or emperor. The simple knowledge that I will have ensured Zootopia's continued stability is reward enough. I alone have the vision to break the cycle of history!" Cerdo said, raising his arms in a victorious pose.

Bogo wasn't sure if it was Cerdo's influence over him or not, but some part of him said that Cerdo's plan would work. It was monstrous, and no matter what the pig might say it amounted to nothing less than enslaving Zootopia's population to his will, but he had planned it well. Each step had been gradual, and now it was so far along that it didn't seem possible for anyone to stop it. "So what do you think?" Cerdo asked, "And please, be honest."

Before Bogo could answer, the door to the carriage opened and Totchli returned, a gleaming gold torc in her paws. "Hold that thought," Cerdo said, raising a single pudgy finger, and suddenly Bogo's mouth seemed glued shut.

"Here it is," Totchli said, presenting the torc to Cerdo for his inspection.

He held it carefully, inspecting the letters and numbers engraved along the inside of it along with the complicated patterns, and nodded at last. "Excellent," he said, and then he reached to his own torc and pulled off one of the baubles that hung from it.

"You'll need this," he said, affixing it to Totchli's torc, "Now, if you can place that torc around Nicholas's neck, you'll be able to order him to return with you should you simply will him to obey as you speak."

"And if I can't, I kill him," Totchli said.

It was a disturbing way for her to agree, particularly after Bogo had seen the way the two of them had acted around each other. But that, too, must have been an acceptable sacrifice in Cerdo's mind. "Only if you can't capture him," Cerdo admonished, "Alchemists are too valuable to waste."

Totchli nodded with what looked to Bogo like considerable reluctance. "Before you head after him, though, I want those letters Bogo gave you."

Bogo watched as Totchli obeyed at once, and Cerdo flipped through them before suddenly stopping, a frown darkening his features. "You said there was one for the queen, did you not?"

Bogo's mouth instantly came unstuck. "Yes," he said.

"That thieving fox must have stolen it from Totchli along with the quauhxicallis," Cerdo said, shaking his head, "This is exactly the sort of behavior I plan on stopping."

It was an almost childishly petulant complaint, but a faint ray of hope suddenly sparked in Bogo's chest. The fate of the kingdom seemed to rest upon the shoulders of a fox who might not even still be alive, considering the fall he had taken, but it was better than nothing. Perhaps, if he was patient and careful, there would be something he could do to help Nicholas if he ever returned.

"That only makes it more important to find him," Cerdo said, shaking his head as he stuffed the letters into an interior pocket of his clothes, "Totchli, I want you to head after him at once. Don't stop searching until you find him or his corpse."

The rabbit nodded, and after carefully stashing the torc Cerdo had given her she was out the door again. "Now that we're alone again, I believe you have a question to answer?" Cerdo said, turning his attention back to Bogo.

"I'd stop you if I could," Bogo said, repeating his earlier words.

Cerdo sighed. "Unfortunate, but not surprising, considering how you're rather set in your ways. I admit, it would give me some pleasure to hear you say that you agree with me completely, but I still need to have the queen trust you, Lord Bogo. For a little longer, at least," Cerdo said, "Forget this entire conversation."

Bogo blinked at the pig. It had happened again; his focus had drifted off so completely that he had completely lost the thread of whatever Cerdo had been saying. From the pig's mild expression, it probably hadn't been anything particularly important—Cerdo did love to drone on and on—but it seemed it really was time for him to retire.

Author's Notes:

Well, here we are! This story is somewhat different from my others in that once the central mystery is exposed, it keeps going. As I've previously mentioned, this story is a bit of an experiment for me, as all my stories are, so I hope that it works. A lot of the details of Cerdo's plans are exposed here, and hopefully as details continue to come out the story will still be an enjoyable read.

Back in chapter 32, there's an off-hand reference from Cencerro that Cerdo's father was particularly good at making torcs, which is referenced again here.

The suspicious death of the prince consort, the queen's husband and the princess's mother, has been referenced a few times although never definitively said to have been murder. Cerdo, at least, seems to think it was.

In chapter 8, there's a description of the gruesome result of an elephant stepping on a shrew, and consequently being flattened themselves by their torc. Cerdo's points about the flaws and deficiencies of torcs are actually things that readers have brought up as well; I was quite happy to see that some of the inherent problems were spotted ahead of the villain discussing them.

This chapter also sees something of a title drop, as Cerdo uses the phrase "the endless cycle" to refer to his belief that civil war will inevitably follow a time of peace.

As always, thanks for reading! If you're so inclined as to comment, I'd love to know what you thought!