Chapter 51:

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"So…" Nick said, sitting down on a small stone bench at the edge of the smoking, ember covered central plaza. He smiled a little, nudging up to Ash. "I guess you're been learning Kung Fu all this time."

The young fox nodded, looking up to Nick eagerly. "Yeah, it was Kris' therapist's idea. He used to do karate, so getting back into martial arts sounded like a good idea." He shrugged, pointing over to the silver coloured fox, standing next to Kozlov and Inspector Carmelita. Whatever they were saying, the vixen looked unsure, but Kozlov was being insistent, the young vulpine backing him up readily.

Nick nodded along. "I'm guessing it worked," he said, stroking his chin. "How did you find this place?"

"Oh, well I knew Haida wanted to learn martial arts and stuff, so I asked him if he knew anyone. He did, but Protein…"

"Protein?" Nick asked, ears going askew. "Don't tell me, is that the kangaroo…"

"Who only says protein," Ash filled in. "Retsuko's boyfriends yoga teacher. He knew martial arts, and so he went there to ask him, but he then diverted us up to here. I guess it worked out, we all found teachers that worked well with us."

"And the bear found you too," Nick nodded on, pointing at Kozlov. "Sent here by Protein too? Or…"

"Not sure," Ash shrugged. "He just raced in at one stage, thinking this place was safe. Went mad when he saw Master King over there." He pointed at the large panda, standing by Carmelita and explaining a few things. "Master Tigress and Po ended up restraining him. And then Kris went up, retrieved this old picture of Master King and this old group he was part of, and right then they were all okay with each other."

"Ha," Nick said, "must have been quite a story to tell the family."

"They didn't really care that much," he shrugged, face scowling a little. "If anything, my mother's old friend and Skye were the most interested in it."

The fox paused. "Ah, Skye and her sister the army fox right?"

"Yeah, they were over to see Rowan."

Nick nodded. "I need to find more time for that. For you and my godson." He chuckled a little. "Guessing you were just sitting about in the living room, your mother shrugging it off and rearranging the flowers or something…"

"Exactly what happened," Ash said, paws coming out. "Why couldn't you be there when I called their generation out on it all"

"Ha," Nick smirked. "If I'd of stood up for you they'd have waited to whack me around the back for being a generation traitor."

"I mean, you're the next generation on from my parents, aren't you?"

"I, hang on. When did it change from Gen X to millennial." He paused, bringing out his phone and typing in. "I… Okay, yeah. Only one removed from you then. Next time, we're totally double-teaming Gen X. Heck, bring my mother in, she's young enough to totally go traitor on her generation." He smirked a little.

"She sounds cool."

"Oh, she's got a personality and a half," he smirked. "I mean, she phoned me just recently about thinking about writing a novel and finding what she thought was a writing group. Turned out to be, and I quote, 'nuttier than a squirrel convention.'" Ash gave a short guffaw, Nick smiling slightly. "Yeah, just don't use that around your teachers. Or squirrels. Or polite company. Or squirrels, again, unless they're really asking for it. Anyway," he said, pausing as he saw some movement in the main group. "-Ah, looks like we'll be getting going."

Off he walked, reaching the gathering of Carmelita, Judy, the kung fu masters, Haida and Kris. Judy, currently on the phone, had her eyes closed and brow pinched as she talked. "I… -Understood. And yes, on the whole I'll agree with you. Bye." She turned it off, looking over to Kozlov. "Okay, the Chief has said that no, we can't have the helicopter again…"

"Don't care," Nick smirked. "Got it off my bucket list."

Judy froze a little, before rolling her eyes. "Anyway, he needs it refueled and ready for our convoy to Little Vostok tonight."

Nick nodded. "Yeah, well the more I see around here, the more that seems like the right choice."

Judy looked at him for a second before her eyes darted to Ash and Kris.

"-I've made them aware of all they need to know," Carm cut in. "Master Tigress volunteered to escort them and Haida back to the fox family household, before she'll come back here. Meanwhile, we'll go down in the car with Kozlov, Master Po and Master King here to Precinct One." She paused, working her fingers over each other. "Kozlov here says that an attack is still highly likely, but I do have access to some resources at paw. In any case, given all that's going on and what happened with the bears here, I don't think they'll be in much of a state to organise and attack us."

"What about my Dad's lookalike?" Ash asked.

There was a pause, Nick, Judy and Carm turning to him. "Wait," Judy began. "Did he turn up here?"

"Pretending to be my father being held as a hostage. Did you meet him too?"

A few seconds passed before Nick shrugged. "You know what? Ask your parents about it." He paused, turning to Haida. "And if they don't speak about it, look it up then speak about it."

"I…" The hyena began before shrugging. "Well, I'll just say I'm following police orders."

"Excellent," Nick said, turning to the small assembled crowd. "So, shall we get going?"

Taking a breath in and out, Carm nodded. "Sí," she said. "As long as everyone is clear and doesn't think any changes are needed. Last chance to say anything." There was a long pause before they all nodded, walking off. Nick, Judy, Carm, Panda King, Kozlov and Po made their way to the waiting police cruiser. Carm insisting on taking the drivers seat, Kozlov taking the one across from her and Nick and Judy squeezing into the middle and back, in between the two pandas. Locking the doors, Carmelita took a deep breath out, watching Kris explaining something to a suddenly very shocked Ash.

"-Some explaining is needed, I think," came a voice from behind. Carmelita glanced at a rather impatient looking Judy, the vixen sighing as she brought out her phone and began typing in a message to a user by the name of 'Private Turtle.' "What's the deal with this necklace, why does Kozlov seem to know you, worship you. Why…"

"When we first met," Carmelita cut in, "I did warn you that there were things Interpol had dealt with, that I had seen, that we couldn't tell you."

"How much of that is genuine security, and how much is convenience for yourself?"

The vixen grumbled a little, a message pinging back on her phone. 'Pickup location confirmed, though we're still a long way out. What should we do if we get a distress call from your museum mammals?'

She quickly typed in 'help them first' before looking back, shrugging. "Half and half? Hard to say," she sighed, pausing to look at them. "Tell me, how willing are you to suspend your disbelief?"

"I…" Judy began, waving her paws a little.

"What," Nick snarked for her. "Are you going to say magic is real or…"

"-Something I for one can confirm," the Panda King said, Nick and Judy freezing up to look at him.

"Did he ask you?"

"No, but having seen voodoo priestess at work, I…"

"Oh great, so what? We've been going after a voodoo trinket?" Judy asked, ignoring Nick's snort of a laugh and groaning as she turned to glare at Kozlov in the front seat. "Is that what it is around your neck?" She waved her paws out as Kozlov turned to her, his gaze hardening.

"I have respect for you. I have hurt you in the past, unfairly. But I will not take disrespect for mammals here. Especially her," he said, pointing at Carmelita. "You, I, we, all owe her more than you could ever know."

"Try me, I'm all ears," she said, pointing up at hers.

"Then I shall," Kozlov said, shrugging.

"Just a shame we don't have any popcorn, as this is gonna be a laugh and a…" Nick began, only to be cut off by a growl from the polar bear, his claws digging into the side of the seat. He turned, looking at Judy, Nick, then all those in the back as Carm started up the engine and slowly began moving down the long and winding road that led them off the mountain. "But I warn you," he said, sighing. "There will be moments you may, no will, have heard of. And you will want, you will beg, to deny that I am coming in to claim them as part of my story. You will refuse to believe me when I say what really happened, as you know the truth-truth story too well." He snorted. "In a way, my own work, loathe as I was to do it." He held himself, staring into the eyes of the bunny and holding it there as her nose began to twitch. He raised up three fingers. "Three times I will ask this of you," he said, before settling back into his seat. "And with that, let us begin. The old country, a now dead country, and a young polar bear cub born into it, an island of memory standing out in perfect clarity, amidst all I have forgotten those years past."

.

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Svin'yalosk (modern day Yakaterinburg) December 1959

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The wind gusted outside the schoolhouse, thick layers of snow falling down in the dull mid-afternoon sun. The wind's heading drew them away from the wall, its shelter robbing it of the power to force its through the thin glass panels and their turquoise blue painted wooden frames. Not that the little bear could have cared. In fact, he'd prefer it if there was some chill coming in, especially near the windows. The room was so hot, the big metal radiators pumping out heat and when he'd asked once, the caretakers had said that they couldn't turn them down. That was the temperature the power plant sent the water out, that was the temperature it would be.

Besides, there were other mammals in the room, ones who didn't like the cold.

The little cub, sitting back in the metal cot, understood. But if there was wind coming in through the windows, he could sit there and cool down!

He looked over as the caretakers walked in, Miss Olena the deer turning on the light and clapping her hooves together. "Okay children, did you have a good nap?"

The two dozen or so other kits and cubs in the large mammal nursery sat up, nodding and saying yes. Or, in the case of one musk ox girl, yelling out "Too hot to sleep."

The deer matron rolled her eyes, tutting. "Pyotr was able to sleep."

At which point the young Pyotz Kozlov fully stood up, in nothing but his underwear, looking through the bars at her. "Too hot to sleep. And I am big bear! I don't need nap!"

"Well if you fall asleep in afternoon classes I will have to tell your mother," she warned, hoof up. And with that she walked over, letting the side of the crib down with a clank. Stepping off of it, the young polar bear quickly began picking up his clothes, which he'd neatly taken off and folded on the floor before getting in for the unwanted nap (Miss Olena had made him do that if he wanted to just sleep in his big boy undies). And so he dutifully began putting them on, all by himself, as Miss Olena helped Maksim out of the crib as well. Unlike Pyotr, the brown bear had dressed in his nightwear before curling up at the other end of the crib and falling into a deep sleep (and the polar bear would not let him get any closer!). The little white big bear could only giggle and laugh as Miss Olena pulled down Maksim's pyjama bottoms and then used a hoof to pull out the hem of the rubber underwear underneath. A quick peek in, and she waved him over to Mrs Amba, the big tiger taking him and a few of the other little children into the washroom. As for Pyotr and the other big kits and cubs, they walked out of the sleeping area and along the corridor, past the other big doors to big rooms with even bigger children working or chanting their numbers, until they were all led into the main nursery classroom.

Pyotr settled down at his desk, being a good kit, as Gughwa sat down next to him. The tigress with the funny name from the east was Mrs Amba's daughter and the only other real big predator here (Maksim didn't count). And, when she sat down, the white bear smiled, pointing at her and tracing a finger down her fur. "Black stripe… Red stripe…"

"Pyotr!" she began to whine, the little bear giggling as she acted fussy over it.

All was cut off though as Miss Olena called them all out, the children looking forward. "It is time for our activity," she said, as she leant down and rolled out a big map of their country. And with that, the children all began reaching into their bags and bringing out the tins and cans of food they'd been asked to bring in. Miss Olena slowly guided them around, finding where they had come from. Many of the prey had little bits of bread, which were placed over the Ewekraine, or cans of silage stew which they placed over the areas up at the north. Kozlov, holding an empty tin of his fathers favourite pike-perch, dove in when it was his turn, placing it on the little dot marked Munyak, at the south of the big lake right in the middle and bottom of his country.

And on it went, the teachers explaining how the workers and farmers in each place did their jobs to make all the food they could need, and how the leaders made sure it got to everyone who needed them. From those with the broadest shoulders to those with the greatest need. Not like in the olden days, when evil rich mammals like the Tsar and the capitalists took it all for themselves.

Moving on they read a story about little peasant farmers working a field, Miss Olena making sure to talk about how the rich lion lord stole all their work, and how the fox merchant who sold them tools and traded special things with them might seem nice, but he was basically doing the same thing. Just less, which did not make it okay. There were boo's at the big family of sheep who had their own big farm, with big tractors and lots of land that grew plenty of food, which they kept all for themselves or sold at a really high cost to the poor workers in the cities. "All so they could have a big house, and lots of silly trin…-kets and… uh…" The filly reading it struggled with the spelling, Miss Olena guiding her through the complex word. "Jew…el… -lery -Jewellery! or fore-ig-n foods."

There was a round of clapping, led by Mrs Amba, as she congratulated them all. Checking the time, she asked Miss Olena if they should let the kids play for the last half hour and, smiling, the deer agreed.

Normally, Pyotr would have run outside to play in the cool snow but instead, today, he had something much more important to do. He ran to the book basket and grabbed out his favorite picture book, showing all the planes the army had! His favourite was the great big Tu-95 bomber, with its GIANT four propellers. But there were all the really fast MiG jet fighters! Like the new MiG-21, which was so fast it was faster than SOUND! Or the MiG-17, that helped their friends in North Korea fight off the invaders from America.

Pyotr just read the book over and over, looking at each plane and imagining himself flying them, swooping around mountains and trees, blowing up bad guys. All until the bell was rung and it was time to go home. He wanted to read the book some more, starting to sniff and cry as Miss Olena told him to put it down, he was not allowed to take it with him. Not normally, and not now that school was ending for the year.

By the time he'd got to the door, he'd mostly dried his tears, any lingering sadness wiped off his face as he saw who was there to pick him up. Not his father (not that it ever was), not his mother. "-Rustim! Rustim!" He cried happily, jumping into the paws of his big brother, the newly adult bear smiling as he picked the little cub up.

"Hello Pyotr! Did you have a good day at school?"

"Da! Da!"

The older bear ruffled the head of his little brother before setting him down and walking off through the snow to their apartment, not that far away. Things were slowed a little as Pyotr played in the snow, Rustim happy to start balling up snowballs and starting tossing them at the younger cub. "I am evil Junker-Flugzeug Ju-87 stukha diverbomber attacking you," he said, before letting out a long haunting growl as he raced off after his fleeing and laughing little brother, snowball in hoof.

"I am MiG one-million," Pyotr yelled, grabbing some snow and chucking it behind him.

"You can't be."

"I am! I am!"

"But it does not exist, there is brand new MiG-21 at most…" He took a ball of snow to the face, pausing to wipe it off before he carried on. "But you would need to be MiG-3 to fight stuka, and MIG 3 was not the best plane. Though against Stuka," he took another little ball of snow to his chest, and then threw his big one wildly, going far wide of the mark. With that, he grabbed another ball of snow and carried on after the little laughing polar bear cub. "Though against Stuka that not much of a problem. Stuka were dive bombers after all…"

.

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"Spasibo big brother."

Placed down on the ground after carrying him up the stairs, Pyotr looked on as his older brother unlocked the door to their top floor apartment, leading them in. The inside was steaming, water bubbling away on the stove and a stark fishy scent filling the air. Pyotr took one sniff and his face scowled up. "Mama. I don't want whale again."

"I don't want whale too," Rustim agreed, acting even more pouty. The lightly clothed female bear hanging over the stove turned, shaking her head. "Well, good thing I'm using it to make soap," she said, pulling out an overboiled lump of grey meat and dumping it in the bin. She glared at Rustim and tutted. "And stop acting like little cub," she scolded. "You are grown adult in a polytechnic! Act your age."

"But…" he began, only to get a wave off.

"Anyway," she scolded. "What took you so long?"

"I…" He looked down, fussing his foot a little. "I was playing with Pytor and…"

"Good for you," she shrugged, turning back to her pot. She scooped out another grey lump of boiled down meat and placed it in the bin, walking over to the open window, the cold coming in and keeping the heat of the boiling water and the hot radiators at bay. Leaning over, she leant down and grabbed one of the hangers linked to it and pulled up. Numerous chunks of the blubbery meat hung off it, frozen stiff and, picking one very fat bit, she walked over and dropped it in.

All as Pyotr looked over. "Why are we making soap? You buy soap in shop."

"When soap is in shop," she chided. "Whale is always in shop, so making it from whale is easier."

Pyotr looked on confused, Rustim just hanging back as if he wasn't sure what was going on. Finally, after a few silent seconds, their mother sighed. "Keep him busy Rustim."

He jerked up, nodding. "Yes Mama," he said, smiling as he led his brother into their living room. Entering in, the radio was playing, Pyotr running up and smiling. "Hello Papa!"

Looking over from his chair, newspaper in paw, a hollow eyed polar bear looked back. Fur greying, tough lines showing on his muzzle and on his claws, various teeth missing, he mumbled a little. "Afternoon."

Looking up, blinking, the cub smiled as he walked around. "At school I showed everyone where your pikeperch comes from."

There was a slight grunt, the bear nodding.

"And… And I got to read a book about airplanes. Like jet fighters, and all really fast and big ones."

"Da," came a sullen nod. "Our motherlands glorious airforce, greatest in the world…"

"DA!" Pyotr chirped, face beaming as his paw came up into a sharp salute.

"-with the best and wisest leaders, who we will unquestioningly follow as workers of the world united, against…"

A blink and Pyotr carried on, in tune. "Against the budgie-wassies and capitalist who want to steal our labour and their nazi allies in West Germany, America and Israel."

Finally, Papa Kozlov nodded. "Good," he said, smiling a little before turning up to his older son. "He is already more sensible than you."

"I…" the older bear fumbled. "I do my best, father. My work on metals will help us…"

"Your work on metals is worth nothing if you are an enemy of the people," the older bear huffed, staring at him.

Rustim blinked a few times. "But… But I am not! I'm not," he said, throwing his arms out as he walked over.

There was a crack in the chair as his father threw his paper down and stood up, grabbing the suddenly shocked polar bear by the shirt collar and then holding him tight. "Then ACT like you are not!" He yelled, mouth pulling back, eyes quivering a little. And with that he pushed the bear back and shook his head. "Stupid cub. Can't believe my wife raised such a stupid child." Rustim blubbered a little, not able to get any words out, all as his father sat back down on his chair, his force causing it to crack even more. He turned to stare at the slightly ajar door to their balcony, eyes fixed on the orange tinted snow, lit up by the glowing of the lamps as it fell down in the growing night. He breathed in and out a few times, working his lips over his teeth again and again.

He stood there, silently, Pyotr at first walking towards him, paw out, but then turning to see Rustim rush out and through the door, slamming it closed behind him.

A second past and the little cub turned, racing on after him into their shared bedroom. He saw his favourite big brother ever there on his bed, crying into it and hitting his head over and over and got up on it, giving him a comforting hug.

Slowly, surely, Rustim calmed down, eventually hugging his little brother back.

…

"So you say mama will mix the whale fat with ash to make soap?"

"Da," Rustim said happily.

"But how does that make soap? Both are yucky."

"The wood ash is dissolved in water," Rustim began, paws out and waving. "The water will dissolve… -that means carry, chemicals like potassium carbonate and sodium carbonate and it will be boiled down to make a highly alkaline concentrate of lye. And that is mixed with the fat, which is made up of molecules combining three long chains of hydrogen and carbon atoms with an oxygen at the base, and a hydrogen and carbon-glycerine molecule to link them all together."

His paws waved about as he described it, the young cub looking on and blinking a little, head tilting.

"-And this reaction with the lye causes a water soluble carbonate molecule to attach to the head, allowing water to easily grip onto it. While the fatty molecules pick up all the dirt. That allows the water to grip on and pull off all the dirt using the newly made sodium and potassium tallowate molecules."

"Is… Is this to do with the metals you study?"

Rustim blinked. "Well, potassium and sodium are highly reactive metals, but they are in salt form here. I work with less reactive, mainly ferrous, metals and their properties and stuff."

"Then… Then how do you know there are metals in soap?"

He blinked a few times, a little grin beginning to grow on his face. "It is," he began, before starting to laugh. "It is…" he let out a massive chuckle, Pyotr hanging on every word. "It is basic chemistry!" he bellowed, laughing and laughing, the little cub left confused and then unimpressed.

Wiping away a tear, Rustim turned to look at his younger brother. "I… It is because alkaline solutions are also known as base solutions, it is really funny chemistry joke and…" He chuckled again, pausing as a knock rang out. They turned, Mama Kozlov walking in.

"Rustim," she said. "I heard from the Ovtseblyaev's that the shops got a supply of chicken." She paused, looking down at the slightly wilting younger cub. "And after you got us kicked out of the last line, after wasting three hours of my time," she scolded. Pyotr sniffed, his older brother taking him into a hug as his mother turned to him. "Can you look after him?"

"I… But it's the last day of term."

She shrugged. "Then take him there…"

Pyotry blinked before jumping up and down, happy. "I get to go with Rustim to work! I get to go with Rustim to work!"

Though initially nervous, the large bear quickly warmed to the sight, smiling and jumping alongside him.

His mother rolled her eyes and scolded him for his childishness, again, but let them be, getting back to her soap making.

.

Waiting on the side of the road the morning after, Pyotr was the first to spot the tram turn around the corner. The snow of the night before had cleared up, a bright blue day letting the sun cast down on the brilliant whiteness around them. Rustim held his paw as the little cub bounced and pointed, exclaiming that it was coming, all as the older bear eagerly went into detail about how the MTV-82 tramcar was built in Riga, in the Latvian Soviet Socialist Republic, and how the all metal bodies were originally built to go on trolleybusses but the need for more trams had them converted over.

He carried on explaining as it pulled up, Rustim paying their fee and sitting down on one of the larger seats by the door. As they rolled on, more mammals, mostly smaller ones, came in and went. Sheep, goats, the odd wolf or fox. Plenty of small rodents and mice would come in and sit in the boxed off areas underneath the smaller mammals' seats. The young bear, at first excited at the journey, slowly began to get bored. Kicking his feet until, after a bunch of mumbling from the boxed-in areas below his chair, Rustim asked him to please stop, the young ursine instead letting his mind wander.

"Rustim?"

"Da."

"Why do we have so much whale meat, and mama has to wait for chicken?"

"Oh, because the party sends out ships that get in lots of whale meat, and they give it out to every shop so that any polar bears like us can get it. Oh, and any other mammal that likes it."

"But mama doesn't wait for the whale meat, but she wait for the chicken. Why don't they just make more chicken? So no one ever, ever has to wait!"

He thought for a second. "I guess few mammals eat whale. So after they use the blubber for oil, they send the meat out and there's never a shortage."

Pyotr nodded a little. "They could just make more chicken. Or more soap. Mama says she makes the soap from the whale so she doesn't have to wait."

"Well the government has to make sure we all have enough food," he explained on. "And sometimes however hard they try to get it to us, we eat it all too fast." He smiled. "With the whale we eat it too slowly. So there is always some left and no-one has to wait." He chuckled. "Even with mama turning it into soap."

Pyotr nodded. "So, the government buy the chicken for us…"

"No," Rustim corrected. "They tell the farmers to farm the chicken for us."

"Why don't they tell farmers to farm more?"

"I guess they try to," he shrugged, "but it's more complex than that. Do you understand?"

Pyotr looked on for a second before shaking his head.

"Never mind," the older bear said, looking on as a sable got onboard, carrying some kind of shrew on her shoulder as well. Both paid the same fare, the smaller mammal grumbling somewhat about how she was so much smaller and it made sense she should pay less.

With a hiss, the door rattled closed, the tram starting off again.

"-Rustim?"

"Da," he said, looking down at his little brother.

"Is it that whale is cheaper to get in all the shops? And chicken is less cheap and…"

"Shhhhhhh…" Rustim hushed, finger over his mouth. "It is not cheaper. That would mean it is not as good, it is worth less, and that the government thinks we're worth less and is willing to put in less effort to give us what we deserve. Which is silly as we're all worth the same, and the government is there to make sure we all get the same for it."

The little cub nodded eagerly. "All equal!"

"Da," his big brother nodded. "It's just that whale is easy to get and move, far less mammals want it, it's easier to store. So it makes sense for as many mammals to eat it as possible."

"Uh-hu."

"And turn it into soap if they've had enough."

"I get it," Pyotr smiled.

Rustim did so too, nodding before sighing. "I am happy you do. I… I struggle with truth-truth sometimes. You don't."

"Truth… truth?"

"Remember yesterday with the planes," Rustim said. "And Papa getting angry?"

"Da…?"

The older bear nodded slowly. "I… I was saying a 'truth' and not a 'truth truth.' I… I make mistakes like that," he said, sighing. "Papa made a mistake like it too, when I was even littler than you. That is why he gets angry."

"Wasn't Papa a brave soldier?"

"Da. But he… He wasn't a brave enough soldier. And all those up in Finland still aren't free today because of that."

"Oh," the little bear said, looking down.

Only for a finger to pull him up, Rustim smiling. "You know if you draw a picture. That is the truth. But then you see mistakes, you draw over them. That is a truth-truth. That is how it is meant to be, and it is what it is. And it is silly, dumb, wrong to say out the truth below it. You understand?"

This time the little bear nodded happily, Rustim smiling along too. "Da. I make mistakes sometimes, get too excited and say out the truth without seeing the truth-truth. But, you are clever. You promise to help me?"

"Da, anything for my big brother!"

Rustim smiled, bringing the little bear into a big hug. Just as he realised they were at their stop. They got off and, together, they walked across the snowy road to the towering columns of Rustim's polytechnic school.

.

.

"RUSTIM!" came the amused call of the large reindeer girl, ducking slightly to get her small antler rack under the door. "He is soooo cute!" Her hooves tucked in under her chin, she leant down and fussed all over the smiling and giggling Pyotr Kozlov.

"Stop it, STOP IT!" he cackled, as Rustim awkwardly raised a finger.

"Zinadia, I think…"

"-He wants me to stop it," she said in a sing-song voice, waving her head around slightly as she did so. Looking up, she rolled her eyes as she settled back into a chair, smiling somewhat at the sight of the flustered polar bear.

"Anything the ma…" Came a new voice, a far smaller and slightly older goat-like mammal coming in.

He looked down at Pyotr.

Pyotr looked back up.

"What is that?" they both asked at the same time. Zinadia burst into laughter, almost toppling herself from her chair.

Rustim walked up. "Pyotr, Simeon is a long-tailed goral, he is a type of bovidae or member of the cow…"

There was a clatter, the mammals turning to see the reindeer doe rolling on the floor, clutching her sides.

Simeon could only sigh, shaking his head. "That did it."

There was another shrill cry of laughter from Zinadia, all as Rustim fumbled a little. "-A member of the cow family, more specifically of the caprinae tribe or goat-antelopes. Which are ruminant antelopes that due to convergent evolution…"

"He's a toddler," the goral groaned, shaking his head.

"AM NOT! Pyotr Kozlov is BIG bear!" He thrusted a thumb back at himself, all as a trio of other mammals walked in. Two large wild horses, one brown and one white, and one massive musk ox. They all paused, looking on and trying to gauge what on earth was happening.

With a sigh, Simeon looked up at them. "Alex, Nikolai, Yuri. It seems Rustim here has decided that we will all be babysitters today."

He paused, looking on as Pyotr walked up to him and jabbed down a finger. "I said I am BIG bear."

Another shrill laugh came out of Zinadia, all as the musk ox shook his head. "Well, I guess I know who's going to be looking after him today." He looked up at Rustim. "Toilet paper in the shops?"

"Chicken, Yuri."

"Don't you have tons of whale or something?" the brown horse asked.

"So much we use it to make soap," Rustim explained. "Mama wants chicken, she made me look after him."

The white horse shrugged. "Well, what is the difference between us intellectuals and the common daycare worker? We should be proud in humbling ourselves, showing us that we are no different to them and…"

"And get me and Zinadia to look on after him, right Nicky?" came the groan of a white and black tigress, currently slipping in.

"I am not complaining," the reindeer said, shaking her head. "This little boy is a cutie. Besides, we're not actually doing anything today, are we?"

There was a slight huff from the brown horse. "And I was looking forward to that," he said.

"Well," the white horse said, "that is because you're unmotivated, Comrade Alex."

"So?" the brown horse huffed. "Doesn't change the fact that just because their mama wanted chicken sausages despite having plenty of whale…"

"-Wait, there's CHICKEN in the shops!" The tigress turned, racing over to a nearby phone mounted on the workshop wall and dialling in a number, her tail twitching about.

The brown horse just looked on, hooves out. "Is there really that much…"

"YES!" She said, before tutting, claws rapping on the wall as she waited. "Come on, come on…"

The white horse shook his head a little. "Listen, we can all keep an eye on him, find him some things to do. Sweep the workshop floor, help with cleaning, educate him up and give him a good taste of being a productive worker and…"

"-Gladly tell him how our country abolished child labour while we do so," the tiger said, rolling her eyes before they jolted open with a start. Holding the phone up to her she spoke out. "Auntie. The shops have chicken. Tell everyone and…" There was a pause, the line going dead, the tigress shrugging and placing it back on the wall. "They know the drill."

There were a few chuckles from all the mammals, bar the white horse and Rustim. The tigress kept her gaze focussed on the former as she walked over. "Hey, why the long face, Nicky?"

Nostrils flaring, the white horse let out a long snort, all as Rustim nudged in. "I… I think you were saying truths, not truth-truths."

"Wait," Zinadia said, eyes going wide as she pointed a hoof at the larger polar bear. "You call them…" And then she was laughing, again.

"I mean, I need to explain it to…" Rustim began explaining, pointing at Pyotr. All as Nikolai groaned, the white horse putting a hoof to his face.

"You don't need to explain it. It's patently obvious to any normal mammal."

"Well," the musk ox said. "I guess it's how Rustim thinks about them…"

"-I mean, there isn't even anything to talk about. This is all a non-event," the white horse carried on explaining. "It's a word for something that doesn't exist and… What Androvna?" He looked, painfully expectantly, at the smile wearing tiger.

"Previously it was obvious to any normal mammal, now it doesn't exist," she smiled, patting the head of the eye-rolling white horse. "Nice truth-truth Nicky."

He sighed. "Now listen, if… -WILL YOU STOP LAUGHING ZINADIA!"

The reindeer did not stop laughing.

"Okay, now you're definitely looking after him."

The tiger could only smile. "Didn't you say we'd broken down the difference between male and female and achieved gender equality?"

Underneath his eyelid there was a slight twitch. "You can look after him too, both of you, not because you're girls but because you two asked for it, especially you Androvna. After all, we've abolished the oppressive difference in gender, just as we've abolished the other artificial oppressive bourgeois constructs of class, religion, of predator and prey, species…"

A groan from the tiger cut him off.

"Okay, now you're cleaning the shop as well."

She rolled her eyes before pausing, a cunning smile on her face. "Okay, if you prove I'm wrong Nicky…"

"Which I don't have to do to someone spouting such a blatant falsehood."

"-I'll happily do all the cleaning." She brought out a bag and dropped it down, unfastening it to reveal a chunk of roasted whale meat. "And if you fail to prove to me that the party has abolished predator and prey, you, Nicky, owe me a nice meaty lunch."

The horse paused for a second before shaking his head. "That is not what Barx and Ingel's meant but…" He grimaced a little before putting on a serious face, holding a slice of the rubbery meat up and, despite a few grimaces, moving it towards his mouth.

The whole group looked on in anticipation as slowly, surely, in it went and…

Taking a bite down he froze, ears twitching at first and an unsteady look on his face. It slowly settled though as he began to chew, the meat squelching in his mouth as he chewed and chewed and chewed. He looked over at Androvna, exceedingly smugly as he spoke out through his full mouth. "Ak-kyred test…" He said. "Don like. Bu noh te-ri-bal."

The tigress winced and cursed, shrugging as she walked over to Pyotr. "Well, can't be too bad. He is a cutie and…" She paused, slowly looking up to the white horse. "Anything the matter?" she said, a smug smile slowly growing over her face.

"I ca… nu… swa…ohhh…" he said. "Tuh bih… Cah nu cuh innu ittle its."

The tigress's smile grew, all as the reindeer began sniggering again. "I mean," Androvna teased, pointing at her fangs, "things would be a little easier if you had some of these."

Eyes narrowing, the white horse turned to a wall, grabbing a small saw off a hook and then spitting the congealed mass onto a table and starting to cut it up into bite sized pieces.

"Also," the tigress said, "if you get the runs…"

"-Oh god, what have you guys got yourself into," came a moan, a final trio of mammals walking in. In front came an argali, the shortest of the group but well built. Following behind came a saiga antelope and a bactrian camel, currently pulling off his coat.

"Igor," Nikolai said, holding up a hoof before picking up a small cube of whale meat. He pulled it up to his mouth and swallowed it down, an odd range of expressions fluttering on his face. "I am proving a very important point here."

The argali groaned before looking up at Androvna. "You put him up to this, didn't you?"

She threw her paws up. "Come on Igor, you know he put himself up to this. He's worse than Rustim."

There was a snort from the saiga antelope. "Hang on, is he trying to prove there's no difference between pred and prey."

"Yes," the horse said, swallowing another cube down.

The antelope shook his head, sniggering. "The abolish pred and prey thing was all about the associated social constructs and artificial cultural conflicts built around predator and prey that are used by the bourgeois to distract us from the true class conflict! Not that there's literally no genetic difference." He rolled his eyes, giving a knowing look at the camel while pointing at Nikolai. "Next thing you know he'll start on the whole abolish the family thing by insisting the state should raise all chi…" He froze, eyes fixed on Pyotr, the little bear smiling and waving.

He slowly raised his head to look at Nikolai, the white horse swallowing down another small cube before looking back at the antelope. "...What?"

The silence was broken by a shrill laugh as the reindeer buckled over, arms against a work table to try and steady herself and hoof banging on its top, over and over and over.

.

AN: A new arc begins... I'll be AFK next week, but things will be continuing on after that.