The Long Arm of the Law 3
Earth-C... Earth-26... the question may come up in the course of reading... where does "Captain Carrot and the Final Ark" fit in my version of the Zoo Crew? Well, if you made it this far then you know the Reptiles in this universe are getting the short stick socially speaking.
There are no anthropomorphic ocean dwellers here. In fact, the Oceans are heavily farmed here for all the meat eaters. (In fact, all hooved mammals here are non-sentinent livestock; with some lizards like the Komodo dragons and birds like Chickens also doing their part as "kosher" foods). Any food source critter seen walking and talking in the comic books are just there for the kiddies reading the Official Zoo Crew Comic on Earth-Aesop, my own little Vertigo-ish Earth-C. Which brings me back to the question, where does the Final Ark fit?
The writers on that DC Comics iteration are protesting the heavy industrial farming/pollution and using the allegory of talking fish and whales to be the voice of Mother Earth and the storyline is more or less the same as we saw here on Earth-Prime. The One Difference is... once they reach the World of Supermax, they land in Jellystone Park... and discover Yogi Bear and the Hannah Barbara Crew (which their DC Comics had also acquired the rights to) building their own flying Ark to escape their crumbling world and the Zoo Crew realize... they have to go back and fix and at least live-with their own mess.
The comic book series is heavily criticized for totally avoiding the true issues of Cold-Warm Relationships.
The Harmony Trap took shape long before the Final Ark storyline. The Zoo Crew has existed here for several years. There is no Z building. There are very few animal puns. There is magic and weird science... but no talking fish. The most surprising thing was to me, that Fastback is missing there, too.
Which I thought was a great thing...
"Where are we going?" the rookie asked, taking a quick step to match Brown's pace.
It was a good question. They had a routine and he had turned left when he should have just crossed Plum Street. He wasn't even aware that he'd made the decision to deviate, so it took the older cop a moment to think of a reason. "Community Relations, Rookie." Brown gave a testing glance to Hewitt, "The Almas live two blocks down Plum."
"Fred and Lucille Alma," Hewit said with a smile. "They own the lamp and bulb store a few blocks back. Mixed Cats. I noticed the store was closed today."
Brown nodded, careful to keep it to one movement up and down. He had become acutely aware that the kinetics of Iguana expression could be off-putting to a fur over the years. He'd train himself to play it down, especially in uniform. "Mrs. Alma has been sick all week. Mr. Alma's been closing early, but he never opened yesterday nor today. The responsible kids have grown up and moved away. I thought we should check on them"
Hewitt smiled. "I take it there's an irresponsible kid or two."
Brown nodded. "Luka. High school drop out. Mr. Alma won't let him work in the shop. He gets by; how, I can't imagine."
"Always seem to land on his feet, does he?"
Brown smirked. "Fine, you can be the funny cop and I'll be the stand-up hero who gets no respect from the people he's sworn to protect."
"You'll get an ulcer but a better book deal." Hewitt said agreeably.
Plum was all residential, except at the corners. Brownstone walk-up, most of which used to be three or four story homes and now were divided up into six or eight apartments. Most were mutt cats and dogs and a few middle-class repts who had "made it" out of the slums. No Packs, no Sports, and no same sex couples unless they were terribly discreet, for at least the next two blocks. It was a classically nice place to live.
There was at least five buildings on this block he'd never been called to in all his years, so there was that, at least. It wasn't all surface appearance.
"The Almas used to live over the shop," Brown said, by way of explanation; although he wasn't sure why he was explaining anything. He was the senior partner. "Used to own the building, in fact. But they sold it to send the four kids to college. Luka reacted badly; like they threw away his inheritance before he could spend it."
Hewit nodded now. "I know the type; he probably had it spent already, in his head."
"True 'nough, still, they might have went a little overboard. They expected him to get his own place and still pay him peanuts for 'helping out' at the store, 40 hours a week." Brown remembered winning a smile from a young Luka, who'd been afraid of the scary reptile at first... Luka, who – unless he was sweeping floors – had the bad habit of licking his own fur repeatedly until he bled from all the pulled hairs and then went thru many long bouts with hairballs in his pre-teen and teen years. The first time he'd seen Luka go through the spasms and choking, he thought the kid was choking to death and had tried aid the little tom. Called an ambulance even as his arms were around Luka tight, slamming his cupped fists into the boy's stomach, under his long shirt. He could hear Mrs. Alma still screaming at him to stop, accusing him of trying to molest her child. He could still see the impossible shame on Luka's father's face as the hairball popped out on the street. Brown had only seen this in cartoons; did not know that this could happen to Felines in real life... His own first thought was he'd squeezed a lung out of the tom. "His father was too hard on the kid. His mother, too protective."
Brown vividly recalled the look on the young Luka, as he let the tom go. Betrayal. Shame that he'd learned from his father. But mostly the betrayal. Looking back, he wondered if that was a tipping point for Luka, if only he could go back and change the next words from his mouth. There must have been a way to make things better. Instead, Brown had made things worse... certainly, Luka never looked at him the same way after that. "Go to your mother," he'd said, his head nodding repeatedly with annoyance, his tail slapping down.
"And Luka was too sensitive," Brown told Hewitt.
They came to 324 Plum, Brown's second visit since bringing home a slightly intoxicated Luka. He'd discovered the tom trying to break into the shop with a brick. His partner then was Washington, an Avi Sport; who Brown was later to learn had his own problems with alcohol. In hindsight, it explained why the bird had taken the bottle from Luka before he'd taken the brick. The Cousins were never slaves like the Repts were. Not here in the United Species, of course. In the Old World, they were merchants, the first free class. In the Silk Islands, they were royalty. Still were, in some places.
A generation ago, Science had proven what no bird wanted to admit. Birds were direct descendants of Dinosaurs. They had, impressively, a million years more evolution on their side than any other Genus on the planet, and all any fur could think of was that, "You're just Reptiles with Feathers."
Washington handled being "out of style" with a little less grace than many of his brothers. Being paired with a Reptile on a beat was like adding insult to injury, Brown assumed.
The Almas hadn't thanked them for bringing their son home. Well, Mr. Alma thanked him later, explaining that Luka no longer lived there... a fact that Luka and his wife sometimes chose to forget. But at the time, it was just slammed doors and quiet shouting. Brown debated knocking on the door and explaining Luka's attempt to break into the shop when Washington waved a feathered hand, citing what became their rallying cry for their three years together. "Fuck them."
Mr. Alma buzzed them in and it was a two flight walk up to their apartment. Brown hoped that the Alma's had reconciled with their son. It would make him feel better for sentimental reasons, he supposed. Hewitt stayed quiet while in the building; letting Brown take the lead.
Brown knocked on the door amd it was ripped open with a snarl from inside. A pale yellow cat in his mid fifties, with blood on his knee length dashiki growled at them. "I called you people HOURS ago! Where the hell were you?!"