Icarus Part II

I spent the next few days overseeing the movement of supplies to our hidden airstrip in the Great Forest. I deployed a few dozen extra soldiers for the inevitable slaughter alongside the supplies we needed to maintain our growing force -well over a thousand Freedom Fighters according to an incomplete census- not to mention the thousands more that would soon be pouring in.

If I had any illusion that signing the treaty would have allowed things to settle down and allow me to spend more time with my Sonic, Tails and Elias, I was gravely mistaken. The United Federation demands were incessant and accelerating.

Knothole was still strictly off-limits except to those on official business, but their officials wanted to establish an expeditionary camp as soon as possible. There was still a lot of conflict over where the site would be established, but once the forecasts of the Overlander commitment to the fight rolled in it was clear that a camp was needed to hold the men and material.

It was an issue that I had little personal interest in, but it was one I had ultimately decided did in-fact concern me. This, in addition to the myriad of issues that did concern me, including establishing demarcations for our respective camps, legislating rights for Overlanders who broke boundaries, and punishments for Mobians who hurt them, made me decide to hire a human staff.

This was an issue I had put-off as long as I could because honestly, I still didn't trust our former enemies. Maria Kintobar exercised a stable degree of authority amongst the Overlander troops on the ground and a degree of sway over the congressional aides. That, along with a recommendation from Elias and all that behind-the-scenes wrangling that politicians are so fond of, was what led to her appointment as a liaison officer. Doubt was what held sway over my emotions, but by the time I had shaken hands with the dozen or so staff members she had brought with her, I actually felt relieved.

It took a bit of getting used to, but once we did we worked with such synergy that it was like we were all from the same family or at least the same race. Maria Kintobar had been a graduate of Pacific City in International Relations and held the lofty goal of 'finding common grounds for mutual respect and tolerance between our species', or rather, pointing out what we all can agree on. She and her staff performed their duties well, and the more I let myself trust them, the more they accomplished and the better they became at their jobs.

With my tasks accomplished for the day, I found myself with a moment of free time: enough to be with Sonic for a bit and trying not to mate with him. A self-imposed punishment perhaps, celibacy. When I got home, I found him soundly asleep, and I found myself frustrated in more ways than one. So, I decided to head home (though by now it may be more accurately referred to as 'downtown') to be with my people and introduce myself to as many of the new newcomers as possible.

There, much to my surprise, was a group of Overlanders off-loading an unusual array of off-white, aesthetically benign technology. Some of them went about the forest with handheld scanners and marked off areas for some indiscernible reason. It wasn't immediately apparent, but they were setting up a hospital station.

"Ah, Sally," Maria said, stopping me. "I didn't get a chance to speak with you before you left but I hope it's all right if we set up here."

"Set up what?" I inquired.

"We've chosen to uphold our original offer to your people. Though I realize you view us with a justifiable degree of scepticism and disbelief, we have every desire for you to believe our intentions of friendship are pure." Maria replied, "Please, accept our assistance. Let us heal your people."

I frowned. I knew it was a public relations stunt. I knew that then, I know that now. The image of a couple of pale-skinned humans scientists hunched over equations in some isolated laboratory is not photogenic, nor is a room full of politicians shaking hands, but a bunch of doctors treating the poor orphaned children of the war would make great press whether they were in Knothole or even all the way back in the remnants of the United Federation.

Of course, I imposed triage and, consequently, Bunnie went last.

I tell myself that I did this out of selflessness, but I knew that it was partly because I still didn't trust the humans. The human doctors were not as well-versed in politics as their diplomats. I remember how they laid Bunnie down on their L-shaped gurney, grumbling about a lack of effective tools as they scanned her body within a sort of antibiotic force field shield. I recalled how they groused and griped about the mosquitos and how they just wanted to be done so they could go home.

Bunnie was nervous, as was to be expected. She'd seen the effect the human doctors had on the others, but she didn't understand the detailed scanning process. Of course, I was just as nervous for the exact same reason, but in these sorts of circumstances she looked up to me for reassurance and held still as I had encouraged her to, but she never let go of my hand.

"She needs to hold still princess, tell your friend to stop squirming." A male physician demanded of me.

"You're scaring her," I told the physician as he recalibrated the scanner settings.

"Ah ain't scared," Bunnie mumbled.

I squeezed her hand and turned back to the human who merely scoffed. "That's no surprise. Most of the Mobians here were spooked as well; technology has that effect."

"I think your bedside manner is upsetting her more than your trinkets," I snapped at him.

"Then what would you suggest, O' Wise One?" the physician asked sarcastically.

"Tell her what you're doing. She'll calm down if you talk her through it," I replied, the human chose to glare at me rather than honour my request before returning to his work.

A little bit later, after I presumed he was happy with the scans, he began to pack up his equipment. "That's it? she's incurable?" I said tightening my grip on Bunnie's hand, trying to keep desperation and panic out of my voice, but Bunnie knew her friend well and she visibly stiffened and whimpered.

"These were just preliminary scans. I've got to forward these on to our primary medical centre to generate a detailed model on your friend's nervous structure." The physician explained.

"How long will that take?" I asked.

"Several hours at least," the human replied with an impatient crossing of his arms, "you do us the great favour of saving the patient with the most delicate treatment for last, so instead of asking me every two minutes what I'm doing and when I'll be done, why don't we agree to make this process go as smoothly and quietly as possible, all right?"

"You'll be responsible for its interpretation?" I asked him.

"I'm a general practitioner by trade. And, due to the…sensitive nature of the particular patient, G.U.N has decided to grant you the expertise of one of the planet's top neurologists" the human's posture straightened in pride at his own reply, but I slumped.

"Isn't it a little optimistic to assume he's going to get here by then?" I asked worriedly.

The human looked confused for a moment before he rolled his eyes and replied. "He's not coming here, Sally. He'll be performing the readings back in the Rockies."

"He'll be doing the interpretation remotely?" I inquired.

"I know this may be scary to you, but we've been doing this for centuries. Your friend is in safe hands." He replied.

I pressed my fingertips to my temples. I felt like crying, I was so stressed, and though this was only a minor unexpected detail, I just wanted to be done with all of this and have Bunnie be cured.

"Thank you," I said as sincerely as I could.

The human scoffed and asked. "I take it you can care for her until I get back?"

"Go back to your camp and mope, human. We've come this far without your help." I snapped at him.

I had been civil with them until that point. Perhaps we were all just exhausted, and reaching such a tedious hurdle penultimate to the finish line was irritating to us all, but I considered that the last straw. Fortunately, though undiplomatic, he was perceptive enough to stay out of our way until there was news.

"We'll be back tomorrow to deliver the report." The physician said.

"Hey Sally Girl, thanks for helping me through that" Bunnie whispered. "Ah know everyone's doing their part but even if it doesn't work out its not your fault, alright?"
I nodded.

"Well, Rotor says that he's working really hard on something that jus might be possible and its askin a lot for you to drop everything for little ol' me, but here's the invite to the ceremony. Nothin fancy, yea know." Bunnie said.

I swallowed and said, "I'll be there."

"Well, in case you forget I got Sugah Hog to remind ya, just in case you-" Bunnie began to say.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world Bunnie, don't you worry," I assured her.

The readings came in around 4:30 a.m. after a couple hours of me trying vainly to get some sense of sleep, and the results were forwarded to Rotor. He said he would need to work hard and he wasn't kidding; for days he laboured alongside the brightest minds in all of Mobius along with a small army of technicians and lab assistants. Rotor worked day and night, leaving only to sleep. His entire waking world was confined to the laboratory; meals and restroom breaks included.

My focus, however, had been with my people. We would fight with (or perhaps for) Elias, but I would choose where my people will fight and in what battles. I would commit my better fighters less often, hoping they would live long enough for the final blitz. I will condemn some of my less skilled people to harder fights in which I know we will suffer casualties because their loss would cost me less.

I am treating my people like chess pieces, and I don't even know if I'm playing the best strategy. I assign squad leaders and drill them relentlessly. I judge their ability based on little more other than their talent, brutality, and their propensity to follow orders. It sounds heartless and almost cruel, and I know war is more complex than this, but I don't know how else to go about it.

I find myself learning to be thankful for Tail's injury. If he was healthy, I could not in good conscience keep him out of the fight any longer. He could fly. He's fast and agile. He could act as a decoy and draw enough fire so that our assault squads can accomplish their missions. I hate that I think in those terms. I hate that if given the choice, I would risk the life of even my own adopted child just to gain a tactical advantage, but that`s war; that`s the cruel and future-less mindset of it all, and I have to think that way so at least most of them can live a life without this horrible war.

And as I am writing this, I wish I could tell you that war was the only thing that caused pain and death, but that was not the case, and probably still isn't.

It was almost exactly a week since the signing of the treaty when it happened. It was late into the afternoon and into a thirteen-hour coffee fuelled work shift when the first reports filtered through.

"Feck," Maria muttered as her staff crowded about the radio. It was a mish-mash of information: eye-witness accounts, irrelevant opinions of 'experts' and viewers flooded the airwaves and were funnelled through the grey plastic grid on the front of the speaker. It took a bit of time to piece the facts together, but the events became clear very quickly: Two adolescent Mobians had left Knothole, slipping over the fence, but that wasn't the bad part, that sort of thing happened all of the time, though I had to discipline them. I didn't particularly blame them having done so - supplies were stretched thin and the pre-fabricated shelters assembled by the army were uncomfortable – so who wouldn`t want to step out for a bit once in a while.

They made their way into the Overlander camp and that was where the exact details became fuzzy. The reporters at the scene blamed "misinformation on a Mobian's diet" as the cause of the incident, but it very soon became clear that was not the case.

Two Overlander sentries had spotted the Mobian youths rummaging through trash and in the clear light of day and killed them both with rifles meant to ward off wildlife.

It wasn't the first unnatural death in Knothole, nor would it be the last. Plenty of Mobians with poor judgment had found themselves lost and eventually succumbing to the elements of the Great Forest. I hated hearing news like that, but I couldn't blame myself for the brutality of Mobius; that was beyond my control. The only thing I had any degree of control over was the brutality of humanity. This was the first time their hate had directly harmed - no, directly murdered - my people.

I felt myself growing faint as more details emerged.

Once the Mobian teens were dead, the sentries had constructed crude crucifixes and hanged their mangled bodies upon them, perhaps as a message to the rest of us, or perhaps as an act of defiance, I don't know. A small, vocal minority of Overlanders had formed a small hate rally against the treaty. Torches, burning crosses, all the sort of iconography that I had come to associate with human hatred and front and centre of it all was two of our dead people put up as a symbol of their contempt.

This time I didn't even protest when the official car came over to pick up Maria and I, and when we got aboard the Alicia, it was clear Elias and his staff weren't faring much better as his staff flew to the phones to get a clearer picture of what was going on.

I sat down in the meeting room in a state of shock. "I can't breathe." I gasped.

Sonic showed up, trying to get my attention "Sal come outside."

"My liege sending a car to their camp right now, but…hold on…" a staff officer called out.

"You bastard, we had a deal" Colonel Somersby yelled into the phone. He slammed the receiver down once before ripping the phone from its cord and shattering it on a wall across the room. Everyone paused to stare, the tension in the air was palpable.

"Give it to us lightly," Elias said quietly.

"They can't be prosecuted for murder. There's no law in the human books that says that Mobians are anything but nonhuman. The most they'll get is illegal poaching, which only carries a sentence of three to five years." The Colonel replied in a restrained voice, though everyone in the room could tell that he wanted to break more than just the phone.

"I can't breathe," I sobbed, curling my fists against my temples. I felt everyone looking at me, felt everyone waiting for me to react, waiting for me to decide how grave and important this was, but all I wanted to do was faint and let Sonic carry me home and hum me to sleep. "Elias, please say something. Please do this, please be the face of this, please." I pleaded of my brother.

"I thought we'd taken care of that," he whispered, sounding just as sickened as I felt. No, I realised, I felt anger and came to the conclusion that I needed to be there.

"Why didn't we?" I roared, rising to my feet, throwing the chair off of my rear end. "Why wasn't this the first thing we did when we set up this forsaken alliance?" I demanded of them.

"We did, we got laws on the books in but—" Spoke one of the politicians.

"But not within the borders of the United Federation, " I seethed, interrupting him. "No, Mobians aren't sapient, aren't human anywhere except here. Killing us isn't murder anywhere except right here in Knothole."

Sonic was at my side, the only one in the room not staring at me in terror. I doubt he even understood what had happened, let alone what it meant. He kept trying to thrust a glass of water at me, and I was too angry to throw him aside.

"This is the precedent we set," I raged, turning to each in turn "This was a foregone conclusion; we all knew this would happen eventually, that petty, violent and stupid humans were capable of something like this. The only thing we ever had control over was how we got to present it. And look what we did. Killing us is no different than shooting a duck out of season!"

"Maybe this is good. Maybe this will curb favour—" Spoke someone in the room.

"Good?" I screamed, too enraged to even acknowledge who had said it. "How can this be good in any universe? My people were murdered and these backwards laws call it hunting. No, this is not good. This can never happen again. I want sanctions. I want sanctions. I want extradition. I want the universal bill of Human Right amended to include us. I want…I…" I stumbled, the air was stolen from my lungs and a cold sweat broke out across my brow.

"Sal, please come outside," Sonic pleaded with me as he took my arm and tried to usher me outside.

"I can't rest right now!" I screamed, wresting my arm from him. "This isn't about me, this isn't about you or some dumb ceremony! None of that matters if humans are free to kill us with minimal penalties. Making life doesn't matter if we're not allowed to live it."

"Look everyone worries for you because you don't worry for yourself. I told everyone that my smart cookie knows what she's doin' so I said nothing. Now, it's time for me to say something. You. Need. To. Rest. Come home with me now." His grip on my forearm was tight, his resolve was strong. He wasn't going to give up.

But neither was I.

"Go home, Sonic. You're not allowed here anymore. I revoke permission." I hissed at him.

"Not without you!" Sonic stated.

"Get out of here! You moron, I don't want you here anymore! Go home!" It took almost a full three seconds before my frazzled mind has processed what I had actually said.

I released my grip on him in shock and backed up, covering my mouth with my hand and staring back at him. He didn't look hurt, not even disappointed, just scrunched up in worry.

"I'll go," he whispered. He made his way to the door, not ashamed in front of Elias, not desperate for their approval like I was. He was only worried about exactly one thing in this room, and I'd stubbornly kept him from caring for it.

I swallowed back my acidic guilt and sat down. Elias stared at me.

"I'll fix that later," I said slowly to them. "We need to make lots of calls, and we need to make them now. I need to release a statement, and I should probably do so live. Maria, you'll need to write me up a draft and I'll revise. I want this to be personal. The Overlanders need to see us as people, not as aliens, not even as foreigners or refugees, but as equals."

"Your adoption will probably help," Maria said. "If people see that all you want is to have a family…well, that's something we can all relate to."

Everyone was quiet for a long time until Elias made his way over to me and placed a gentle hand against my forearm. "Sally, go home. We'll do everything we can. We'll work through the night, but Sonic's right, you been working yourself ragged. You need to rest," he said.

"I can't, I have to be here if it happens again, I have-" I began to say.

"Sally, do you know how much I care about you and our people?" he whispered to me and in a lower voice continued "Do you know how much this hurts me?"

I looked up at him, nodded slightly.

"Do you trust me to make this right?" He asked.

"I do," I whispered. "But I'll … I'll be back by first light."

"You'd better be," Elias said nodding. "Go makeup with Sonic."

With aching feet and pounding heart, I raced home as fast as I could, desperate to have him hold me so I could crumble without risk of being seen as weak. He was waiting for me and embraced me so tightly I thought I would suffocate, but the air was not what I need right now.

"I'm so sorry," I sobbed to him. "I didn't mean it."

"I know," he said, focused simultaneously on comforting me emotionally and physically, rubbing that spot on my back so expertly that my sobs turned into purrs. "I know."

In a small private ceremony by the creek, Bunnie and the others had talked till at last the sunlight had turned a dusky red. We reminisced about old times and gradually the meeting had lost its gravity and had instead become a celebration of the first wedding held at Knothole. All the guests had a great deal of tea, but as evening came on, the mood grew tense and sombre.

"Us?" Turning her head away from Antoine, Bunnie placed her biological hand to her face and blushed profusely "Why I just don't know. It's such a big fuss over a silly—"

Antoine, with a solemn expression affixed on his face, slid without hesitation from the loveseat, crouched before her and took Bunnie's biological hand in his. "Will you marry me, Bunnie?"

"Oh, Twan!" She giggled, and her face grew redder.

"Ooh, the blushing bride and groom," Amy crooned. "Oh, Bunnie. Say yes, please."

"Don't pressure me!" Bunnie cried. "Oh, Twan what more is there holding this back?"

Antoine opened his mouth as if to reply, but then he looked down to the floor with a deep spoke for a few minutes, and the only sound came from the breeze which rustled Amy's hand-sewn gown. I quietly coughed once but I immediately regretted making the intrusive noise.

With each passing second, Bunnie's smile faded and her happy smile shrank. She looked down at Antoine with a pained expression. First at his whiskers and then at the medal securely pinned on his uniform as he continued to stare at the ground with trouble on his brow.

At last, Amy said in a quiet but firm voice, "Do what you know is right. You feel it, deep down."

Heaving a great groan, as if he had just accomplished some fierce inner battle, Antoine said, "I repudiate my unrequited love for the princess."

Bunnie's eyes widened in wonder, and her mouth fell open, but she did not speak.

"Moi mademoiselle," Antoine said, "I want you and you alone. You're the only one I have ever wanted. I love you. I have loved you since the moment I first laid eyes—"

"Don't," said Bunnie, shaking her head. "Oh, don't, or ya'll make it all seem silly. Yes, already. Yes, I'll marry you, you foolish boy."

"Marriage is silly," Amy said. "That is why it is so good."

Amy had a few cheap rings on her fingers. She pulled one off and stuck it in Sonic's hands. "There," she said. "You be the ring-bearer, okay."

"Oh, do I have to?" he asked.

"I think we should have a minister," Amy continued. "Um, Sally—?"

"Me? But—"

Amy clucked. "Who else? Go on, you know what to say."

"Not really." I turned to Bunnie and Antoine who stared back expectantly and I offered them a nervous laugh. "Maybe, I should get NICOLE, she would know what the words are."

"Oh, what's the difference?" Amy asked, "Go on, Sally, or this will take all evening."

I cleared my throat, fidgeted, and began to speak. "Okay, let's see, um, do you Bunnie Rabbot, take this man to be your... something something husband?"

Bunnie's grin turned to one of amusement. "Yes, a thousand times, yes," she said.

"Oh, Bunnie" Amy whispered, "you're supposed to say 'I do'."

"What's the difference?" Bunnie asked.

Amy nudged her.

"I do, then," she said.

I cleared my throat again. "And do you, Antoine D'Coolette, take Bunnie Rabbot to be your wife?"

"I do," he answered, his voice still full of gravity.

"Okay." I clapped my hands together. "Then I now pronounce you man and wife. How's that."

"It's perfect Sally Girl," Bunnie said. "What comes next?"

Lightly, I clasped my hands, took a deep breath, and smiled "You may now kiss the bride."

"I like that part." Antoine wrapped an arm around Bunnie's waist. She gasped, but he cut her off when he pressed his lips against hers. Amy nodded with a look of satisfied approval but nonetheless placed a hand over Tail's eyes.

After almost a minute, Antoine let Bunnie catch her breath.

I awoke well after first light.

Things weren't really as bad as I thought they were. Maria was on the phone with a conservative representative of the Overlander government who was trying to trivialise the issue and was 'wiping the floor with him'. The outpouring of support for the tragedy was almost universally sympathetic from within the United Federation with spontaneous candlelight vigils. In fact, it became clear that the far more humans approved of us than hated us.

I was worried of course about being in the presence of humans besides the few who I had directly interacted and worked with, but that didn't stop me from recovering the bodies of the two victims. Outside of the human staff who worked directly with me, most tended to assume that I was celibate rather than actively trying to start a family. I don't want humans to know about my relationships since while 80% of them were good, decent folk, or at least indifferent, that still left more than enough who weren't. The sentries involved in the shooting were confined to their bunks (as we had requested for and the Overlander Military Police were quick to acquiescence to).

"Where are they?" I asked. I didn't yell, I didn't growl and though I was about half their height and level with their seated positions; neither of them would look me in the eye.

Eventually, one of them pointed to a tree with a crude two-by-four nailed to it, upon which hung the grotesque, decomposing bodies of my people.

"Help me take them down," I said to my Military Police escorts who pushed them forward with their rifles and within ten minutes I was kneeling over their bodies, trying to identify them.

I don't know everyone in Knothole. Probably about a half to a third of our swollen number, and at the time that was still at our incomplete census figures at about a thousand. As it so happened, I could identify both of them.

"Do you know her name?" I asked the sentries until one of them flicked his head up and gave a slight shake. "Her name was Tangle, Tangle the Lemur. She didn't have any family here but that didn't mean she wasn't popular. She was the life of the party with her card tricks."

"This one was Whisper, Whisper the Wolf. She wasn't as outgoing as Tangle, but they were good friends nonetheless. She thought she had lost her mother years ago and it was a week ago when they found each other in Knothole." I explained.

I leaned down close to them, more than aware that I had won the moral high ground, more than aware that it was dearly bought and more than aware that intimidating the Overlanders did little but soothe my rising temper, but I loved the way they cowered and simpered before me.

"Now, I have to go back home and tell her mother that even though the Great War ended decades ago, and even though we had signed a treaty of friendship and co-operation with their leaders and that we are even now at peace with you humans, that two of them have decided that their daughter was unworthy to live. I shall have to go and inform her that whatever nightmares she may have thought she left behind have indeed come to pass." I said to them in as much of a restrained as I could muster.

"We don't want your pity you animal-" Spoke one of the humans.

"No, human, no, you've made your position very clear." I hissed back as I went to leave with the bodies of the two victims.

To the protest of the Military Policemen and my Mobian escorts, I carried Whisper all the way back to the car while a couple of the others carried Tangle. I finalised the draft Maria had prepared and delivered it in full that night. I don't remember exactly what I said and it wasn't really important anyway. The main takeaway was that response was overwhelming, universally positive and I was nominated for some sort of humanitarian award. I don't really care much for those. All that mattered to me was that a door had been opened to the United Federation

I spoke at their combined funeral. I held Whisper's mother while she wept and wailed and expressed wordlessly her frustrations at how thoroughly Mobians had been subject to the injustices of the world: oppression, enslavement and cruelty to which we could not defend against. Or maybe that is what I imposed on her grief. That is how I felt. That's how I feel now.

I don't have a whole lot of time to dwell upon that. There was so much to do for all of us.

Rotor all but retreated into the laboratory while I was once again thrust into the glamorous life of modifying the patchwork of battle plans inherited from my predecessor. Being mostly limited to my office, I didn't see Rotor all that much, but the few times I did he always had a look of giddy excitement on his face; even when things didn't go exactly as planned. I was pleased to see him working with such vigour, but I found myself wondering how it would affect his health.

Interference from overeager executives certainly didn't help. Luckily, Elias, while eager for results, was smart enough to not make uninformed suggestions. Rotor didn't have a confirmed date but claimed it would be sometime within the next month

That date came sooner than I thought.

As one long day came to an end, I was preparing to head home when Rotor entered, giddy and looking about. "Is anyone else around?" he asked.

"No," I said. "Why?"

"Perfect. Follow me." He said excitedly as he motioned for me to follow him.

I didn't know what was going on, but I had the sense during the car ride that something big awaited me aboard the Alicia. As it turned out, I was right. The apparently completed device stood about as tall as three Mobians, five as wide and its gleaming silvery surface was crammed with blinking diodes, flashing buttons and tubes.

"The first prototype," Rotor announced proudly. "It's got its own self-contained power supply as well. Completely self-sufficient and capable of being deployed anywhere."

I walked up, awestruck. Just a year before, the dream of creating a De-roboticizer and freeing all of Mobius was just a dream. And now, here we were on the percipience of making history.

It was time to begin live trials; in a way, this was the scariest part of the whole process, for if the procedure failed all his hard work would be for nought.

Indeed, Rotor told me that the risk of failure was what kept him awake at night.

Bunnie was wheeled aboard the Alicia, where she seemed a pitiful sight

"Hello Bunnie," an elderly lynx said. "I am one of your friend's colleagues. My name is Doctor Ellidy. I trust Rotor has explained the proposal to you?"

"Not really," Bunnie whispered. She was tired and so very weary, not just in body, but in his voice and spirit. "Only that you might be able to help me."

"We can Bunnie," We are about to commence clinical trials on a new markedly improved deroboticizer and we're on the lookout for someone to test it. Would you be interested in being the first?"

As Dr Ellidy's words sank in, Bunnie got the biggest smile I'd ever seen.

Arrangements were made. Forms were created, signed, then duplicated and triplicated. Bunnie underwent a full medical check-up and then counselling to make sure she knew exactly what she was getting into.

"Ready?" Rotor asked.

"Ready as ah shall ever be" she confirmed.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," Rotor said, "Once before, this prototype deroboticizer has played host to one great miracle of science when its freed Sir Charles the Hedgehog. Today will mark the second and perhaps the most glorious of all." I sat amid the crowd both physically and mentally, but I was focused on staying calm. I wanted the surgery to start before any delays came up. I simply couldn't bear the thought of anything going wrong in the last few minutes.

As the final rays of the sun began to set, Bunnie was rolled into the lab's operating room. Normally, owing to the sensitive nature of the procedure and its limited size, non-essential personnel wouldn't be allowed inside, but Rotor insisted I come along. The surgical room was shaped like a pit, with observers looking down on an operating table. I took my seat, as did Elias, his chief of staff, and all the other medical personnel. Rotor went into the operating pit and dressed in surgical scrubs.

"Good evening, everyone. Tonight's operation is the first of its kind, for we will be performing the first trial run of the new and vastly improved deroboticizer on a valued member of the community. If everything goes well, she'll be the first Mobian to be freed from the effects of the roboticizer." He washed his hands.

"Okay then, let's get started."

Bunnie was wheeled in. She was breathing deeply and she was nervous, yet excited. As she stepped into the deroboticizer, she was assisted by orderlies. The sun had almost set; tonight would decide if the dream of every free-living Mobian would continue, or come crashing to a halt. I hoped for her sake that it would be the were no cheers from the audience, but the air was charged with a certain tentative optimism for the miracle-in-making. Everything seemed to have gone well, but anything could go awry.

The device hummed and flashed with Bunnie inside, much like its monstrous cousin, and the clear plexiglass within fogged up.E veryone held their collective breaths and the door of the machine opened to reveal Bunnie sitting in her wheelchair. Her legs and arm were noticeably less mechanical.

Drowsily, Bunnie tried to rise from her chair and stand, but she collapsed, her legs weak and unable to support herself "Ah... ah can't feel my legs?" She said with an insincere and laughing tone.

Rotor chuckled. "Glad to see your sense of humour is still intact." Taking a thick blanket from one of his assistants, he wrapped it around her as he helped her stand up. When all was said and done, and Rotor promptly declared the procedure a success.

Bunnie gazed at her genuine limbs and I could say with certainty that the ten seconds afterwards were the longest of her life. Everyone held their breath as Bunnie looked at her new hand and her legs with near total disbelief. She hesitated for a moment and then tried to move them.

"Butter mah butt and call me a biscuit,", she gasped in astonishment as her efforts were rewarded with fleshy fingers and toes wriggling.

At once, everyone in the room - myself included - abandoned their professional demeanour and erupted into cheers. The roar of the audience was so deafening that one could have mistaken us all for die-hard fans of a sports team watching our favourite player finally make a goal after so many long years of a deadening slump.

For the next few days, Bunnie was the center of attention. She was given regular doses of steroids and vitamins to ensure that her new muscles would develop properly, and no expense was spared in giving her the best physiotherapy available as she worked on building up the strength in her limbs. Doctor Quack checked in on her every two days, taking a multitude of tests to measure Bunnie`s progress and delighting at the results. As he explained, Bunnie was stable and it wouldn't be long before she could be discharged.

Rotor checked and double checked. Each time fear gripped him that the procedure would revert and it would be back to square one as it had previously. I saw that stress weighing on him and I kept reassuring him that even if things didn't work out, he could take what had been learned and reapply it to his next effort. It didn't do much to cheer him up, and for once I can't blame him.

He was chasing his life's dream; anyone would be stressed out at that.

Rotor's fears soon proved unfounded, for Bunnie was running through the obstacle course, jumping and clearing hurdles with ease, her limbs acting better than anyone had dared hope and that excitement doubled when Bunnie proclaimed that the legs were better than her old ones ever had been.

At the end of another long workday, Rotor plonked down a thick stack of papers and notes for me to go through. He barely managed even that, being so exhausted he could barely stand on his feet.

"Long day?" I asked.

Rotor nodded. "You don't know the half of it." He replied as he collapsed into a chair. "Success is great, except when it overwhelms you."

It was as if a light bulb had been lit in my head. Sensing my chance, I asked "Then I guess that leaves out doing the rest of the body on an actual Robian. If you came up with that, you'd have no free time at all.

Rotor chuckled nervously "I could count on exhaustion taking a decade off my life."

I chuckled. "So, did you think about actually doing it?"

"Doing what?" Rotor asked.

"Performing a de-roboticization on a Robian," I replied.

"Good god, no." he gasped as he took a gulp of his soda before he backtracked. "What I mean to say is that it took me six years to get to arms and legs and I don't want to think about how long it would take to get to-" he gestured to his own body as a metaphorical example "- all that."

"But is it possible?" I inquired.

He eyed me. "You're awfully curious." He replied.

"Can you blame me?" I asked, backing down. "Just look at how successful the procedure turned out. It seems like de-roboticizing a Robian would be a logical next step."

"Actually, no" Rotor said. "the next steps are all about standardising the procedure and working out the post operating recovery care, but the latter is outside my expertise. The rest, we can work out once we actually win and have all the time in the world to work upon a solution."

"But it`s possible, right?" I asked again.

"Well, I went over the leftover data and what literature there was on the original roboticizer to see if it was feasible … and … I don't want to get your hopes up … I think it might be." Rotor replied.

I pretended to be surprised at his answer, and it took most of my willpower not to pump my fist into the air and cheer. I had done my part and planted the seed of an idea.

All I could do now was to wait to see if it would grow.