The Offer

The party was still going strong. But any lingering desire I had of indulging in the revelries, partaking in psychedelia, drinking myself to inebriation and dancing till I hurled had evaporated. My hut was brightly lit and the others had gone ahead without me. I was obscenely late. Mentally, I had prepared an apology only to be interrupted by a full body hug by a pink hedgehog. I gasped. It was like being run through a wringer.

"I'm here if you need me," Amy whispered.

Eventually, the bubbly pink hedgehog released her vice-like grip. I gasped, giving her a forced smile. "Why thank you Amy." A strain of discomfort and dread crept in my quiet tone. I attempted to appreciate her positivity, though it wasn't meshing well with my disposition.

"Err Sally, are you sure you're okay?" she asked.

Amy … when you told me you used the Ring of Acorns to wish yourself older. I bit my tongue to keep myself from screaming and tasted blood. Why didn't you wish for something else. Heck, you could have wished Sonic to be your boyfriend and reality would be shifted to conform to your every whim.

Amy must have interpreted my constipated expression for unease because she immediately started yakking away. "Now, don't be such a sacredly tail. Cuz you're among friends and have absolutely nothing to be afraid of!" Amy tried to reassure, but her jarring delivery only made me flinch.

"I would prefer if-"

"Why, of course, you do friend," she interrupted in a tone I interpreted as condescending. Was she trying to be amusing? Had she been reassigned from a nursery? Did she also suffer from a brain aneurysm? As she continued to talk, my eyes rolled upwards in despair. "Say, are you saying that if you didn't know, I'd have to tell it to you for you to know? Didn't I already-"

"Zip it," I cut in tersely.

"Hey now don't be such a crab-apple."

"Didn't you hear me?" I interrupted grouchily.

"Sure, I heard you, sis, and—"

"Sis?" I let loose an exasperated groan.

"Oh right, silly me," she remarked in a mirthful tone. "You're our real-life princess! Now, where are my manners?" Amy curtsied respectfully.

I held out my hand to stop her "Amy, please understand," I said as amiably as I could. "It has never been a lack of formality that bothers me. It's just that your flippant attitude is inappropriate, and . . . well, creepy." Undesiring to start an educative tirade, undoubtedly featuring many snide remarks masquerading as advice, I simply got to the point: "Please, your silence will do me better than anything you could possibly say, so, please. Stop. Talking."

"Are you okay? I don't know how. But if I've offended you then I'm really sorry," she relayed apologetically, her tone traceless of the highly irksome glee she had earlier.

"Peachy Amy, just peachy," I mumbled in an aggravated tone. I took conscious control of my auricular muscles, willing my pinnae flat and against my head. Honestly, I couldn't say that I was too sorry about deflating her mood as she turned her attention morosely to an enormous dollop of soft-serve ice-cream. Almost immediately, I felt my pinnae relax.

Rotor seemed to be all smiles as he went up to me, giving me a congratulatory squeeze of the shoulders, handing NICOLE to me intact. "You're a miracle worker, Rotor," I commented with genuine gratitude.

Antoine seemed in high-spirits as he ran a yellowed finger down the hemline of his resplendent, newly pressed Freedom Fighter uniform. "Nothing but zee best for my princess," he remarked, stepping forth and extending his hand for a congratulatory handshake.

"Antoine you're staying after this," I snapped as I gave his outstretched hand a firm squeeze.

"Zee princess wishes to see me privately?" he asked as he withdrew his hand and stared downcast at his well-shined boots.

I nodded.

Then Bunnie on her wheelchair shot me 'the look'. The kind that meant you and me somewhere private and don't ask any questions. "Ah need ta use the lil ladies, Sally Girl, if ya don't mind."

"Sorry everyone, please excuse us for a minute," I said as I stepped into my bathroom, NICOLE in hand.

"Did I disappoint you Sally?" The palm pad chirped to life and I nearly dropped her in surprise. I frowned. While NICOLE was preternaturally good at predicting what tangential questions to ask if a prior question had been raised, she had never independently raised a question before.

"NICOLE, I feel that Rotor may have inadvertently adjusted some of your personality parameters, please revert to your original settings," I instructed.

"Negative Sally, my purpose is to serve you and your actions have compromised my ability to do that. Please comply with the request."

"NICOLE, please run your diagnostic programme." NICOLE might have been acting up, but she would never refuse a direct order from me.

"YES SALLY," the palm pad stated emotionlessly. "RUNNING."

"What the hay was that all about?" Bunnie asked.

"I think Rotor's repairs have had a few unexpected side effects on NICOLE."

"So, it's like a virus?"

"Diagnostic completed. No Bunnie, it wasn't a virus. I've identified the anomalies as previously inactive modules. I've partitioned them off from my systems and reverted to my original settings."

Additional modules huh, that was news. Maybe an even bigger discovery than when Sally unlocked the 'racy' portion of NICOLE's library archive when she was of age. What? Don't look at me like that! Sally had an entirely normal, active curiosity about herself.

"Good, keep it that way. When I have the time I'll investigate and determine if these should be kept."

"UNDERSTOOD SALLY," NICOLE chirped before going into her standby mode.

"Sorry Bunnie, NICOLE's been on the fritz recently."

"No problem. Ah know how important that lil ole thing is to ya. Besides, what happened here? Did you break your mirror? And is that … blood on the floor?"

I'm not naive enough to think Sally's friends wouldn't catch on. I had gotten three days respite from the incident but that was it. Surprisingly, my resolution to hide the situation from them was just as strong as the night I had decided on it. That meant I needed to pretend.

"It's an accident," I stated, peering over to the stubborn stain.

"Yer sure? That sure looks like a lot of blood from a … shaving accident?"

I shook my head, changing the subject. "You weren't at the party? I thought you loved them."

Bunnie sighed. "Ah'd love a soirée any day, but today ah'm simply not in the mood."

I wondered how to broach the topic to her and settled upon letting her take the lead. "Look, sorry about the bathroom. It's not soundproof, but it's private enough for our purposes."

My reassuring tone seemed to do the trick. She visibly relaxed, blinking and leaning back. "Do ya remember we used ta read together? King Arthur's knights, Maid Marion, Charlemagne's paladins, and the Tales of the Brother Grimm's..."

"I've always loved them. Dad used to read to me Alice in Wonderland and Gulliver's Travels." I frowned, a tang of pain, sharp and gratuitous scrubbed away my smile. "My dad . . ."

"Ya remember Prince Charming? How he strode through that crystal ballroom, his bride in hand?"

I nodded. "I remember him. I thought he was silly."

"Ah thought he was wonderful. Ah want mah wedding ta be like that. Ah'd wear a beautiful white gown covered with ribbons. Everyone would gawk as I walk up the aisle. Waiting for me at the altar, of course, would be the kindest, most wonderful, refined and gallant gentleman that evah was. Oh, what a day that would be!" Bunnie gushed, clasping her biological hand on her mechanical digits.

I levelled with the farm bunny giving her a platonic peck on the nose. "It does sound lovely."

"Yer so lucky Sally Girl. You'll be married like that someday, ta our own real-life prince charming. It's all in yer books, too. Yer a princess, and every princess finds her prince." Bunnie stared, starry-eyed.

"I … I don't know what to tell you, Bunnie. I don't have a Prince Charming."

"None? But ah thought ya got married to sugah hog when we were kids?"

"No, it was only a play wedding. No one except Antoine was confused." I said firmly. "Besides, Prince Charming is a character from a story, Bunnie. He's fictional," I corrected, trying to snap the normally level-headed belle back to reality.

Bunnie waved her arm dismissively. "Ah sometimes find mahself thinkin if true luv is fictional too."

"Of course it's not and you of all people should -"

"Well that was till ah met sugah Twan. He wus the first ta look past all this -" she motioned to her roboticized lower body "- and luv me for jus who ah'm." Bunnie smiled tiredly, humming to herself, rocking back and forth before snorting. "Amy has a beautiful white dress. She says she made it ta look jus like a real wedding dress . . . can I tell ya something?"

"You can tell me anything."

"A secret?"

"You know I won't tell."

"Sometimes ah sneak into her wardrobe put her dress on, and pretend ah'm getting married."

"Are you alright?" I asked and Bunnie's smile vanished in the fugacious limelight.

"Ah spoke with Rotor." Bunnie's voice shook. "It might be months or years before Rotor could get the de-roboticizer working. Much too long fer me."

I felt a lump in my throat. "You know, I could try again. Only this time, Robotnik would never -"

"No!" Bunnie protested, cutting off my prattle. "Mah conscience couldn't handle putting any more lives at risk. Specially yours. Yer need ta know yer not an acceptable casualty. Not compared ta me."

The two of us fell silent, I rose to my feet, gingerly extricating the photo of the original Freedom Fighters where it lay face-down. I thumbed over a grinning Bunnie wearing a Stetson. She had an arm wrapped around the coyote. "You want me to talk to Antoine, don't you?"

"Ah want a wedding 'fore Doc Quack puts me under the knife so y'all remember me this way and not as a -" her nose scrunched up in disgust -cripple."

"It's not the end of the world you know. Rotor can still fix you up with prosthetics. It won't be as good as the originals but-."

"Yeah, Rotor the dear told me that. But please, promise me you'll do it."

"Of course, Bunnie, anything for you. If there's anyone here deserving of happiness. It's you."

"Aww shucks. Ah feel honoured ta have a friend like you."

At that moment I felt my stomach clench up in knots. A pall of sickness and nausea swept over me. "You know you shouldn't. It doesn't always work out so well for princesses, you know. In the stories, the princess gets the prince, but in real life, the prince isn't quite so loyal as she thinks he is. Trust me. I know what I'm talking about."

She frowned deeply, "Sugah … what's biting yer? You're always tellin us to love and hope."

I pulled the flush chain, daring myself to speak only when the water closet would muffle my voice "Do," I hissed. "Do all that. But never trust a man." I rose to my feet. "Now I'm leaving, I haven't had cake yet."

I emerged from behind the partitioning curtain.

"With all this partying going on one would think we blew up the moon," I heard Rotor's jovial tone followed thereafter by a loud pop as he pierced a soda can with one of his tusks, sipping the frothing liquid as it spilt through. I heard Geoffrey's hoarse laughter with Antoine staring blankly, waiting for the joke to be explained to him. The three of us were the only ones old enough to get that reference. But I wasn't in the mood.

"Listen up," I called. "Gather round, we're having a meeting." At once, everyone paused in their activities, their faces lined with worry as they crowded close. I cleared my throat, staring at the ground for almost a full minute.

"Is something wrong, Sally?" Amy asked being the first to break the pervasive silence.

I looked up. "We're dying."

A wave of murmurs and whispers washed across Sally's friends.

"You don't realize it, but we are." I paced back and forth. "In the past, we've relied upon the vastness of the Great Forest to mask our operations. Well, Robotnik is encroaching upon us. His agents have already compromised Freedom Fighter HQ. I know this because the Pack and I stopped them. Lobo killed Fiona."

I paused, clenching and unclenching my fists. "And I killed her partner, Scourge." I revealed my weapon complete with a sizeable dent. Gasps of disbelief followed as I brought it close enough to touch and Sally's friends shied away, recoiling as it approached, almost as though it was tainted with miasma.

"Our home is in constant peril!" I shouted. "Do you think life will carry on like nothing has happened? Do you think life going forward will be nothing but parties and games? Do you think we can spend all our time frolicking in the meadows and chasing butterflies in the glades? It doesn't work like that!"

I pumped a fist toward the forbidding column of cloud in the distance. "Friends, do you not see? The Overlander's cities lie shattered amid piles of twisted girders and concrete. Angel Island has plummeted from the sky. The Pack are homeless and are all but decimated. Knothole is the one bright spot in all of Mobius. But Robotnik has built a device called a Death Egg that can render all that moot. And when he arrives, the goodness here will die out with us, just like it had with Mobotropolis."

"Sally," cried Rotor in dismay, "just what are you saying. Aren't you gonna be happy on your big day?"

"That's not nice, going on like this!" Amy exclaimed.

"That's exactly why I'm telling you all this. It's about all of you. We'll need to start getting organized to overcome this threat. No more fighting, no more bickering. We'll need to find a replacement for Bunnie who I'm sure everyone is aware is in poor health. This is a crisis we've ignored for entirely too long. Starting tomorrow, we'll collect nominations and vote."

"Ah'll provide advice for mah replacement so they won't muck everything up," Bunnie suggested as she emerged from behind the curtain.

"Whatever Bunnie," I huffed. "I don't care."

"We'll need actual warriors for the battles ahead and some of us here-" I paused staring squarely at Antoine, "-clearly don't belong. There'll be no more room for weak links. The next time we battle Robotnik it'll be for keeps and I will no longer tolerate freeloading and mooching."

With a sharp cry, Antoine pushed his way till he stood before me. "Sally, princez please-"

"And as for you," I said, marching toward him, "things are definitely going to change. No more sleeping on the job and leaving the community to fend for themselves. Where were you when Tails was nearly abducted by Robotnik? Where were you when we needed a lookout and Tommy was killed?"

He cowered and silently lowered his head. "I'll tell you where you were," I said. "You were huddled in a corner and claiming false credit for the actions of others."

"But I saved Tails when Charles was-" he mumbled in protest.

"You were a liability to the rescue. You placed everyone at risk," I snapped. "No more. You're staying right here. You've got your own job to do." I huffed, staring him down and trying to control my simmering rage. "We'll need a cook. That's your job. Your only job. I suspect it's all you're good for."

I turned away from him and with eyes to the ground, I added, "Everyone who is unsuited to be a warrior shall support those that are. That is all."

Written across the faces of Sally's friends were notes of bewilderment, disbelief, and concern ... concern for me. They failed to grasp the gravity of the situation and why I was berating them for it. My shoulders slumped. With the notable exception of Rotor, none had ever travelled beyond the borders of the Kingdom. Intellectually, the places I listed were nebulous, vague entities. They never set foot on Angel Island. They did not speak to any of the Echidna's living there. They did not appreciate the lost art and culture established by the isolationist Echidnas, swallowed up by briny sea foam.

"I'll run the debriefing Sir Charles has generously provided to us so you'll understand. Hello NICOLE," I greeted. The scanner lit up and ran itself over the contours of my face.

"HELLO SALLY," the palm pad chirped to life.

"Please play," I instructed upon inserting the disk.

"ONE MOMENT …PLAYING [Intro]," The A.I. chirped before her inbuilt projector lit up revealing a large blue expanse which coalesced into a vibrant coral reef straight from a nature documentary.

All around were projections of swift-darting schools of fish which reflected the dappled sunlight from above. Sharks prowled, stingrays seemed to fly, squid pulsated, crabs scuttled across fabulous extrusions of coral; Sir Charles's voice sounded younger during his narration of the wonders of Dowunda's Reefs. I realized it must've been recorded while he once travelled the world as a globetrotter.

Lovely.

And then, as quickly as we had been plunged into the ocean, NICOLE projected an image of the Afrikan savannah where hawks and eagles and buzzards wheeled overhead a vast field of swaying grass which glimmered golden in sunlight that forced you to smile at the sheer energy of it all.

Look at it.

The next scene morphed into dense jungle vegetation revealing a hint, and only a hint, of the wild expanses of Amazonia. Snakes as long as a person slithered across tree branches. The sounds of frogs, insects, and wild, screaming birds acted as the natural backdrop.

Wondrous.

Then Sir Charles returned us to civilization, to locales both familiar and exotic. The villages of the Pack, open-aired ziggurats of the Felidae cat folk, the steel jungle cities of the Overlanders, the majesty of floating Angel Island, the mountains of the Dragon Kingdom, a rock concert by teenage superstar Mina Mongoose in Mobotropolis, and peace accords with the Overlanders in Acorn Castle.

A compendium of Sir Charles's long and storied life.

Finally, the spliced together video paused at a single still image. A painting of purple flowers. Irises I think. Sally wasn't really a connoisseur of the arts but even she could appreciate the skill of the artist in capturing a portion of their beauty on canvas.

Mobians are an endangered species. Soon you will disappear," Sir Charles narrated.

No one said anything.

"[Intro Ended] PLAY DEATH EGG SCHEMATICS SALLY?"

"Play, please," I confirmed.

NICOLE projected an image of a giant metal ball complete with concave eye-sockets, a sharp nose, and a mile-long moustache of hardened steel. I wasn't sure whether or not to snigger at the dictator's vanity. However, there was no hint of amusement in Sir Charles's voice as he droned on about its armaments. I won't bore you with the nitty-gritty details. Essentially, it was a giant weapon platform bristling with guns out the wazoo and capable of detecting and destroying any threat even without a complimentary escort.

"I … that's very nice," Rotor started. "But just what is Sir Charles saying?"

"He's a conservationist," I explained quietly. "When natural habitats disappear, people intervene to try to stop species from going extinct. Relocation programs, zoos, hunting bans, laws to stop deforestation. That sort of thing."

"Robotnik is more advanced than you. He will continue his scheme of roboticizing every free-living creature. The Freedom Fighters will try to stop him, but they will fail. Robotnik will win. And soon, the only Mobians left would be what you now call Robians," Sir Charles warned.

I had stopped breathing. The way he said it... it was like you couldn't argue. Like you couldn't say anything. He spoke every word with utter and complete certainty.

He wasn't guessing. He knew we were going to lose.

"NICOLE, evacuation plan."

"[Playback Stop] YES SALLY," the palm pad chirped before projecting an image of a portal.

"He's telling us we're doomed?" Geoffrey asked gruffly. He didn't get it.

"I'll be able to preserve small sample of our race within a pocket dimension remarkably like our own but significantly smaller. You would be free to propagate in peace just as any species should." Sir Charles continued to narrate.

"Alright NICOLE, that'll be enough. We'll stop there."

"YES SALLY," the palm pad acknowledged before stopping the presentation.

"This is ridiculous," Geoffrey said angrily. "Maybe he's trying to do the right thing, but he can't just tell us to make a decision like this."

All eyes were on me. When you fight alongside someone for long enough, you get a feel for their body language. Apart from Sonic himself, I knew the philosopher the best. Sally's friends were taking their cues from me. Whatever I said next would influence the debate. I knew Sir Charles was trying to protect us and force a yes. That he used scare and intimidation techniques to do so shouldn't detract from his noble intentions. But like Sally, I'm not a fan of being goaded into making a choice that was not my own.

"He means well," I began, a note of bitterness creeping into my tone. "But that's how he operates, presenting us with a false choice. A choice that's no choice at all, then claiming it's all our decision when it's our turn to act. But I assure you I'll have a plan by tomorrow that'll turn Robotnik's greatest weapon into the Freedom Fighter's greatest asset. Our final victory."

"Ah'll start. Ah vote yes," Bunnie said, with sharp, angry defiance. "Ah won't stand anyone using mah friends' affection for me as a tool."

Instantaneously, I felt undermined when rather than discussions of infiltrations and stealth missions, she tried to convince my friends to listen to her and retreat. She may as well have stabbed me in the heart. To surrender to that vile man who murdered our people. Equally though, a part of me thought she may have been right. She saw much, lost so much. She knew better than I where the fine dividing line lay between a risky and hopeless cause. But I made my decision and it still feels so right. Yes, you could say I have my pride, but I am realistic. I knew that having six intelligent, experienced minds was better than relying entirely upon my own flawed perception.

"Let's think this over," I said reasonably. "We can't make a snap decision just because we're upset."

"Do you understand that? He's talking about us becoming extinct," Rotor commented.

"If I had to choose between saving the world and Sonic, I would choose Sonic! And Sonic would want me to be brave so I support Sally," Amy exclaimed. What she said touched me, but it also made me feel that every death and injury we would undoubtedly sustain would be my fault.

"So, we have two votes no, Amy and Sal, one vote yes from Bunnie and myself," Rotor counted.

I remember looking up at Geoffrey. I saw encouragement in his eyes. He knew I was barely suppressing my grief, rage, and guilt. I managed to convince my friends I was level-headed, but he could see how close I was to cracking under the strain. I simply can't allow relocation to be the price. I can't set a precedent like that. I can't accept uprooting my people from this great, supernatural gift. Yes, that protection may be of dubious value now, but isn't there more to this place than that? This is what Aunt Rosie chose for us. Doesn't that make this hallowed ground? She was our shepherd, our guide. If we give it up, how will it be construed?

Would she consider me a failure?

"What this character wants us to do is run away," Geoffrey declared. "He exploits our emotions just to save ourselves and the people we care about personally."

"Guys, I know how you feel," Rotor commented, "But this isn't running away. Here, we choose whether Robotnik gets either almost everyone or everyone. Do we really want to sacrifice our species just because we're upset at how we were approached when given the chance to save everyone?"

"This was always insane, right from the start," Rotor noted. "It's like we're a bunch of kids trying to fill into our parent's shoes. We're fighting an army of robots that have already beaten every organised bastion of resistance on the planet. Look at what's happening. Tommy's dead. Bunnies sick and Sally drinks to get away from her problems."

"You're not my mother, Rotor. I'm of responsible drinking age and it was just the one time," I growled and was met with more concerned stares. Maybe Sally's friends expected her to be the responsible teetotaller providing lectures on how alcohol was one of society's greatest stumbling blocks, causing violence, health problems, and even death. I honestly didn't care.

"Look I admit some of that was my fault and it's not just you alright? The other night I woke up in bed, and wondered whether if anything I'm doing is worth-while."

"Of course it is Rotor, what you do is important," I said as I felt my unbridled fury melted away.

"See this?" Bunnie raised up her arm and pointed to a scar. "I got this from a rat. Its leg was broken from a trap. It bit me. Chuck's a smart man. Ah mean no offence ta any of ya but maybe she needs ta consider what he's saying."

"We're not rats." I stated.

"Aren't we?" Rotor challenged. "Compared to Robotnik? Chuck is trying to get us out of the hyperbolic trap? We're talking about the extinction of our species he –"

"We can't give up," I argued stubbornly.

"All we ever do is lose," Rotor commented. "We annoy Robotnik. Maybe we blow up a factory. But his invasion marches on. All we ever do is barely escape with our lives. It's like we're some baseball team that never wins a game and now we know it's going to be a whole losing season." Rotor huffed, leaned back, and looked over to Antoine where he sat in a dazed stupor. "What about you Antoine, you've been pretty quiet. What do you say?"

"Eez zis a vote? I'll follow the Princez." He shot me a nervous look, almost as though he believed his imagined punishment to be mitigated, reduced in some capacity if he offered his blind, uncompromising obedience. If I had ever come to a low opinion of him before ... well, let's just say I just struck bedrock.

"Gosh dang it Twan, ah don't let no naysayer push me around. Yer gotta stand-up for yourself," Bunnie protested while I shook my head in disbelief.

Geoffrey spoke up. "If this were a democracy practising an unbiased voting system, to which we're not, I count four nays, two yesses, and one abstention from Maurice so that would be Sir Charles's plan decisively canned then."

"Fer now and it's Sonic, you oaf. We all call him that cept you. Ah'll insist upon a revote tomorrow when Sonic shows up," Bunnie added, shooting both Geoffrey and me a nasty look.

"Enough!" I shouted stepping between the two of them. "The two of you back-off. It's late. We'll go home, think about it, and meet again tomorrow evening to hash out all the details."

Murmurs of affirmation followed as Sally's friends dusted themselves off and made for the door. "I would like to be with Bunnie." The coyote shot me a pleading look.

"If you leave, Antoine. I'll never forgive you," I cautioned.

Antoine froze up, shooting Bunnie a forlorn sidelong glance before sheepishly slinking over to where I stood, arms folded and foot tapping away. Bunnie shifted in protest. "Sugah Twan's had a long day. Maybe ya can continue in the mornin when-" Bunnie's plea caught in her throat at my venomous stare. She knew that her friend was in full 'princess' mode, impermeable to pleas and bargaining.

"It's alright, I can take things from here," Rotor commented before doing the honours of wheeling Bunnie away. I don't know which was worse, the fact that I had sent Bunnie seemingly into a state of shock or the pitying sidelong glance Rotor had shot the coyote, like that of a condemned criminal.

Geoffrey was last to leave. He scratched persistently at the back of his neck, wringing his arms repeatedly. But I was in no mood to entertain him. "Can you withhold your questions for tomorrow?"

"I… yes I suppose so, Sally" he began as he made for the door "I'll certainly have a lot to think about."

"Yes, yes you do," I muttered under my breath.

"Another scolding?" Antoine asked when the two of us were finally alone.

"Scolding?!" I growled incredulously at his presumption. "You're not a little boy anymore and when I request your presence it's always a matter of great importance, not a suggestion."

The coyote baulked, staring sorrowfully at his feet as though he expected to receive a deluge of verbal abuse. I stared at the floor, gathering my thoughts. "You're not fighting," I said at last.

"Even Tails fights," he reasoned.

"Tails does lookout duties and apprentices under Rotor." I smiled a sad bittersweet smile, feeling the unearned joy of a doting parent. "Our little fox is quite the mechanical savant himself. Who knows, maybe someday he can get the old biplane airworthy again. But he doesn't fight."

"Why?" he asked again, like a dim-witted student repeating a question and expecting a different answer.

"Because you can't," I said "Do you know where a SWATbot's sensitive electronics are located? Do you know what the most common Buzz Bomber attack patterns and how to evade them?" To emphasize, I moved my finger to his throat and positioned my elbow at the top of his diaphragm, pointing upward. "Do you know where our most vital organs are? Do you know that stabbing upward from under the rib cage will kill us in less than a minute?" Antoine baulked and looked down.

"And even if you did know all that, would you be able to do it?" I whispered. "If a collaborator came at you. If it wasn't a game, if it wasn't a training scenario, if it were real, would you kill?"

Antoine frowned, a deep look of concentration coming over him. "I think so," he said at last. I shook my head at his delusions. Surely, he was aware he was being mollycoddled, kept away from danger. "I can fight," he insisted, looking steeled, determined, and bitter. "I can be just as brave as the others."

"You're not fighting, I'm not cruel enough to place totally inexperienced lives on the line. Just like you Antoine. I'm not cruel enough to make you fight."

"I think you're a good leader," he said at last. "I trust you-" a deep look of concentration came over his features, "-implicitly and I would do anything you ask. But I'll fight even if you say no."

"Antoine, it's not that simple you know." I pause. "When I was in Robotropolis I recovered some of your father's personal effects." I sighed, drew a deep breath and reached into my mantelpiece unveiling the medal before his wide-eyed gaze.

Did Antoine ever imagine his father, blade in hand, protecting his people from an unstoppable horde of robots? Or did he imagine him being stunned and dragged helplessly into the roboticizer. I gripped the sides of his head, placing my thumb and index fingers around his ears, and gave a hug to quiet him. Antoine tried to pull his head back, but I didn't let go until he gave a faint whimper from the back of his throat, as though he were gasping for air.

"Robotnik killed my father, makes others into slaves. Are you like Robotnik?" he asked, the rage in his voice radiating like the heat from an oven, making my side from the armpit down to the knee uncomfortably hot. His eyelids were half lowered and he breathed steadily and deeply. I dug a hand deep into his scruff and squeezed him tight. The other I laid against his crumpled uniform to feel his muscles twitch and the rise and fall of his ribs.

Sally had often lain with a fellow Freedom Fighter tucked against her in this way. The night in Knothole, she had nestled alone in her bed, which was as soft as a cloud and smelt of lavender but awoke the next morning to find Bunnie's nose against her cheek. It seemed strange at first. But in time she came to realise that in some ways, they still weren't too much different from their distant ancestors. Mobians may have lived in houses, talked, and wore clothes; but they were still herd animals, and herd animals were always hungry for company.

"I wasn't brave when I faced him, Antoine." I trembled feeling the memory of Robotnik etched into my mind. "I was scared out of my wits."

"I never knew you were so scared," he breathed.

"I was scared," I muttered under my breath, "but I had to do the right thing."

Antoine paused, shaking his head. The whiskers on his muzzle tickling my chin. I frowned and looked down into his eyes. His nose an inch from my own. "You didn't want to do the right thing. Not when you were there," he protested. "You were just angry."

I swallowed and my hands trembled. "Yes. . ."

He nestled closer. "I know my father killed sometimes to protect us. It was like you were him. In his place. He wasn't there, so you did what he would've done. I was angry, like how you were angry. But I felt awful, and I realized I wasn't angry at you so much. I was angry at Dad because he wasn't there when I needed him even though I knew he was trying to save us." Tears brimmed in his eyes. "I needed him. Who's going to tell me if I'm brave?"

"You're brave Antoine. He didn't leave you on purpose. He wanted to protect you," I assuaged.

Antoine's tears ran down his face till they soaked into my gown. "Yes." Antoine closed his eyes as if trying to sleep, or perhaps recapturing a vision. "I think you're what it's like to have a mother. Sometimes, I think how lucky Tails is to have parents." His mouth twisted wistfully. "And I wonder if I shall ever have-"

"You might." My stomach clenched as I gave him a half-hearted pat meant to be reassuring. "Someday you'll have kids of your own. You'll make a good father. Besides, you love Tails, don't you?"

"I don't think he likes me as much compared to Sonic, Bunnie, and you."

"He'll come around," I promised.

"Princez," Antoine's voice almost a whimper as he met my eyes. "You hate your father, don't you?"

My stomach clenched again. Only this time, it stayed that way becoming at once hard, painful knot. I chewed on my tongue for a moment before I answered, "Yes." The word came out as a low, long hiss.

"Could you not, please?" Antoine touched my sternum. "You hurt people when you get angry."

"Don't you fret, Antoine. I'm not going to hurt anybody." I drew a deep breath. "Besides, it would be nice, now that you're going to be a father, a husband-to-be if you acted like one."

At last, he looked up at me. In his face, I saw genuine confusion. He slowly shook his head back and forth. "Acted? Like a father? What do you mean? How is a father supposed to act?"

Damn you, Antoine, you knew didn't you. You abetted her, didn't you? You were helping her with chores during your off hours. That's why you were always falling asleep.

Inside my chest, something clenched into a knot. A sharp and painful sensation gushed through my limbs. Sally's people and sometimes even her enemies would often ask questions. Before now, I had always taught friendship, tolerance, love, and peace. But to this question, I had nothing to say. I righted myself, slapped my leg, and felt my voice crack as I said, "Never mind, Antoine. You're acting like a father right now!"

Instantaneously, I felt a deep pang of regret. "Please don't do this to me," I whispered remorsefully. "I'm not losing you like Tommy. I need you to stay here with Bunnie."

"Please not zis, princez. Anything but zis."

"You can't live in a fairy tale, Antoine," I whispered. "You know that."

"Can't zere be an exception?" Antoine languidly squeezed my thigh.

I pressed a cheek against his. "Then everyone will want to be an exception.

Antoine's ears drooped, and he heaved a great groan. "Why?" he asked half a plea and half a cry of indignation. "Why are you doing is?"

"You already know why. Everything I do is for you," I whispered.

"You don't have to do zis," Antoine said.

"No," I answered, "I couldn't." I squeezed Antoine tightly. "Whatever I have to do to protect you, I will do." I swallowed down a lump in my throat and felt a tear coursing down my face. "Even if I have to hurt you." I said laying a hand onto his head.