Chapter 19
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"I need a break."
"We don't have time for a break," Judy said, the pair walking into a secure meeting room within Precinct One.
"That's why I'm going into debt funding my coffee addiction instead," the fox remarked, taking another sip of his large Snarlbucks.
The bunny just looked enviously at the forbidden caffeinated elixir before steeling herself and focussing on the task at paw. Basil, Dave and Oates had been at work, a large conspiracy board had been set up, but in terms of filling it…
"No real luck?"
"Luck doesn't come into it," Basil waved off, doing his best to pull out some large papers.
"No real skill?" Nick asked, the mice ignoring him as Judy walked over, paw coming in and helping to pull out one of the large sheets the mouse was trying to mammal handle. Spreading it out, she paused, trying to make sense of it all. "What the…"
"There are other copies in there, in there," Basil explained off, Dave wandering over.
"Don't forget to get them in the right order too," he warned.
"Personally I would never make that mistake, but thank you for the reminder."
Judy frowned, looking over. "How many are there, how large are they?"
"About ten different ones, plus overlays, so if we were to play them on the floor…"
Quietly Nick walked over to one of the overlays, pausing as he pulled it out. It was a map with a bunch of irregular rings, splotches, shaded areas. He turned it left and right, trying to make sense before pulling out another, pausing as he noticed it was the same, only the encircled areas were wider, a large blue shaded area in the middle.
Judy was looking at one of the original papers, a wide coloured sheet, marked out in broad areas with different coloured splotches. She blinked before slapping herself. "This is a soil type map, isn't it?"
"Close but not quite," Basil remarked.
"-Geological?" she asked again.
"Quite correct, it's the various rock strata at two-hundred meters depth. One of many from various depths, procured from the University of Zootopia Geological Department."
There was a rustle from behind, the mammals looking over to Nick. "And let me guess, these are the outlines of the Nocturnal District Caverns, right?"
"Quite correct," Dave said.
Nick nodded, pausing as he looked to the window. It faced one of the more inner courtyards of the Precinct, overlooking a mix of storage areas, backlots, AC farms and some of the exercise lots for the in-Precinct jail. As it happened, the rising sun was just peaking above the opposing wing, a bright light shining in.
"Place these," he held up the nocturnal district outlines, "on the window, we then place those maps over them. -What order, what height?"
"If you look in the bottom right corner," Basil said, the two larger mammals quickly getting to work.
"So," Judy said, "you've got some soil samples from somewhere and want to know where in the nocturnal district they come from."
"Quite more than that, we've got a potential reservoir of numerous soil and dust samples that we've acquired thanks to Rattigan's past operations. Buried beneath the mud and dirt of the surface, we'll have a whole mix of different samples, imprinted one after the other," Basil said. "To the point that we could get a firm confirmation of two, maybe three, different ones. Which would allow us to cross reference with the various intersections present and pinpoint a location where it is most likely that Rattigan has been operating."
"Got it," Nick said, putting in place one of the upper geological maps over one of the upper outlines of the nocturnal district, so high up in fact it included many of the underground subway lines crossing across. The fox frowned. "I am not someone in the know when it comes to geology, but right now… -There's rock type…" He peered in, trying to read what was written on the label. "-That we shall call Sandstone A, which covers pretty much all of this, with little bits of Sandstone B here and there."
"Quartz Arsenites," Dave chimed in, "or Sandstone A, comes from stable igneous volcanic rocks in the interior being weathered down, the sand being deposited over the rocks that make up Zootopia as they were being uplifted. Sandstone B are Lithic Wacke, eroded from elements of the oceanic crustal rocks forced up when the land Zootopia on was uplifted onto the main continent."
Nick nodded on, looking over to Judy. "You know more about soils than I do Carrots, you deal with this."
She frowned. "One, I didn't study soil science like half of my siblings…"
"-So you have a better chance of learning about it by osmosis than me."
"They studied soil, not rock."
"And that just shows how unqualified I am for this," Nick said. "Does it even matter, Rock type A, B, C, etcetera…"
"-It gets more complicated as you go down," Dave carried on. "From what I gather there is a discontinous layer of greywacke before you hit the igneous rocks. Mainly gabbo's, basalts and the odd areas of serpentinite, with various dykes cutting in. However, the main thing to look at are the various thinner layers of greywacke and seafloor massive sulfide deposits trapped between layers of basaltic pillow lava deposits. These, along with the remnant broken trails of former deep sea hydrothermal vents, have an incredibly rich history, being laid down in numerous different volcanic and sedimentary events as the rock we were on collided, subducted and were then thrust onto the continent. Indeed, as you'll see from later maps, it's far more like a mosaic than anything else down there.
Nick stared off blankly. "Do any of them have gold in them?"
"No, but plenty of iron, magnesium, coppers, lead, tin…"
"-So no," Nick replied. "Rock type A, B, C…"
"At least make an effort," Judy said, lining another set of maps up. About halfway down into the main cavern, the centre of the geological map was marked out as 'hypothetical makeup', the massive black ring shining in from behind showing that it was long since gone. Closer to the margins though, there was a firm specification of what rock type was present, with a dozen or so different options.
"Like this one here?" Nick asked.
Judy looked closer, trying to work her tongue before shrugging. "Rock type F, Rock type G… -Hang on." She looked over to Dave and Basil. "So they've got cut away rock maps going down beneath the city, but they don't have one showing what every floor surface of the district is made of."
"No," Basil grunted. "Something I quite seriously complained about."
Nick raised an eyebrow. "What did they say back?"
"They agree it was quite an oversight, and that I'd given them a brilliant idea for future undergraduate busy work and end of year projects."
"The one mammal lower than the intern," Nick smirked, stepping back and taking a look at his and Judy's handiwork. From left to right, the top few reaches of the Noturnal district were seen opening up, criss crossed by various thin narrow lines that those looking on recognised as parts of the Zootopia metro. Going down however the cavern began opening up, wider and wider, before starting to recede in jumps and starts, the outlines of support columns, shrinking stalactite formations and growing stalagmite ones present. Already the great spire in the centre of the district could be seen forming, even as every now and then the outer rim would jump in by a chunk, a ledge area present. Nick narrowed his eyes, looking at one fairly high up, underneath the area between the Rainforest and Savanna central. That was where the escape tunnel the fox family had used had come out, wasn't…
"-The diggers," Nick said, smirking. "You're using soil and dust samples from the diggers, inside the treads and stuff, aren't you?"
Judy smirked back. "I'm surprised it took you this long to work it out."
"Ha ha." Nick turned back to the map, watching on as the main cavern began shrinking more and more, all as two other things went on. Firstly, the number of small tunnels and sub caverns began growing more and more rapidly, reaching out into an ever growing spider web. Secondly, the various rock types present began getting more and more complex, a whole mix of different layers laid across the map. Some large areas of background rock, others lines cutting across, even more small isolated splotches or snaking wiggles making their way through the gaps. In many cases, the small tunnels began following or trying to trace those, hunting down the various ores and such.
Even further down, the webs only got more chaotic, to the point that many areas just ended and were shaded out. Many seemed to be more natural looking, Nick cocking his head before bringing out his phone. He searched up whether or not the Zootopia Nocturnal District was natural or not, a stupidly obvious no as far as he and everyone else knew. Zoogle pretty much confirmed it though, looking through, something did pique his interest.
'While the vast majority of the Underground Caverns are repurposed former mining caverns, at lower depths there are significant natural cavern like deposits formed via former underwater volcanic activity. These extensive and multi-braded lava tubes were naturally filled with silt-like deposits over the millenia, forming very loose silty muds and soils but in many cases failing to fully coalesse into solid rock. During the excavation of the lower levels of the District below sea level, water ingress through them into the new sump areas began eroding areas of looser soil. To this day, the water and silt is pumped out using a specialist facility that in turn extracts the often mineral rich silt for processing, justifying the ongoing costs of keeping the water level low. This in turn has opened up significant unmapped cave systems, in many cases intersecting with the various former artificial mine shafts. These, along with the lower levels of caverns, are banned for construction due to the potential risk of catastrophic flooding should a break through into the ocean occur, in which case the pressure would equalise and the ongoing erosion and resource extraction would cease.'
"The more you know," the fox commented, frowning a little before his face lit up. "I suppose if there's evidence of salt water corrosion we know he's really down low."
"Speaking of such," Judy asked, looking over. "You didn't actually say anything about the actual results."
"No, but we were told that they'll be sending them over fairly early today. -Given the important nature and delicate work, they did want to double and triple check everything," Basil said.
Nick nodded. "More time to think about anything else then. First off, what thing is Oates researching right now?"
"Well, these vehicles were adjusted for use by smaller mammals," Dave said. "Quite well too, especially for older vehicles like them."
Judy glanced over. "Older vehicles?"
"Yes, sixties, seventies," he said. "Point is, no electronic plug-in systems. Everything had to be done manually with pedal and control actuators and such."
"Right," Judy nodded. "And there aren't that many major suppliers and fitters for those."
"We believe we know who installed them. What's more, they don't seem to have the most honest of reputations," Basil said, smiling. "Dare I say it, we might have stumbled onto one of Rattigan's old proxies from the old days."
"Which means they're less likely to go 'oh no, our stuff was used for evil', and help us," Nick said "-And given the apparent tight lips of all the disposable polar bear goons, I don't think they're going to talk."
"Talk shmalk," Basil waved off. "Mammals lie, but clues and hints don't. Especially those hidden in lies."
"-I'd prefer some plain and simple truth straight fr… -To the horses mouth for once," Nick said, walking over to the side of the windows. He glanced out, seeing the edge of one of the exercise yards, a small sliver of the outside fence just visible. A bunch of mammals were milling about, plenty of them polar bears caught in the aftermath of the various escapades. "Have our bugs got anything from them?"
"Nothing we don't already know," Dave grumbled. "A few things that line up with Melissa Krovstoits description of Rattigan's base, which isn't much. Big, industrial, metal tiles under paw… A few different names they've bandied around for it. The refinery, the operations centre, the charging hall, the facility… All made up."
"Meanwhile in the female section, Melissa Krovstoit has decided to be just as infuriating as before, only this time by not speaking rather than speaking too much," Basil grumbled.
"And the goat, Petey?" Nick asked.
"Annoyingly, Bogo put him in seclusion after our fake out thing," Basil said. "Didn't want a prisoner on his watch dying because some polar bear still didn't have the 'he didn't betray us' memo. -If Rattigan even bothered to put one out."
"Okay, and given how desperate we're getting, how close is he to reconsidering," Nick asked, only to get a jab in the side from Judy. He gave her a pointed look. "Fluff, we are not ones to take the high ground here."
She frowned. "Try, Nick, try."
"Sometimes new developments mean a new years resolution can be ignored. I think Rattigan trying to raise up an eldritch abomination is one of them," the fox replied, crossing his paws. His voice had taken on a slightly firmer tone, Judy trying to work out an objection only to pause.
"-Pollen…"
"What?" Nick asked. "Does he have hay fever or…"
Judy cut over to the mice. "They'd have been moving those vehicles overground for at least some distance," she said. "They'd have passed under trees, some of which might have been flowering. If we take a sample for any pollen fragments, then cross reference with a map of flora in the city, we could potentially trace our way back to the entrance and exit Rattigan uses, right?"
The mice looked at each other before Basil facepawed. "Brilliant," he muttered, sliding them down and giving them a shake. "Quite brilliant really, as long as it all hasn't shaken off or…"
"They were under cover right?" Judy asked, nervously.
"-Yes, but… Get on my phone, I'll start badgering them right away," the mouse said, at first ignoring a few disapproving looks. "-Engineering prisoner conflicts is morally worse than politically incorrect terminology," he muttered.
"But our indirect torture is for a good cause," Nick said. "And you implicitly approved of it too."
Basil shrugged. "Just go and convince Bogo that we need every sliver of help we can get, and if some civil liberties mammals take offense they can write it on a piece of paper, bend over and find themselves twenty-two-point-two-recurring percent kitsunified."
Nick froze, a bemused look on his face. Paw stuck raised, he looked down about to say something only to pause, a smug expression taking over. "Actually, I've just had a much better idea."
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"Today is another day, another dawn, another day to live your best life."
"Is it dawn out there or not?" Ash asked, slumping into the small kitchenette. He looked over to his father with bleary eyes.
"Given our current subterranean situation, I think it's best to say that dawn is a state of mind more than anything," his father said, stretching this way and that. "A new beginning, a new chance to…"
"Mope about in this place playing video games while we wait for them to catch the guy who shot off your tail." The young red fox paused as he noticed his younger cousin meditating to the side. "And kitnapped my uncle."
"More time to prepare yourself for the inevitable confrontation that will end this," Mr Fox said instead, pausing as he brought out a small modified bandit mask, stretching it out with his paws.
"I mean, Kris facing those mammals in court was an emotional struggle," his mother pointed out, "One that can't…"
"-I'm pretty sure Dad thinks there'll be some kind of final battle or something," Ash said.
"Well," his mother said, placing her baby over her shoulder and starting to burp him. "Your father has a wild imagination."
"As do I," the young fox said, looking over. "Do you think a baseball bat or a cricket bat would be more effective at whacking him away?"
"Ash." His mother gave him a pointed look.
"What?" he asked. "He did blow off Dad's tail."
"Which is why I'm currently weighing up the benefits of a ping pong paddle or a tennis racket," the adult fox todd mused. "Or what other improvised weaponry might be the best for when we meet each other once more."
"It'll be in court," Felicity sighed. "It'll…"
Mr Fox stood up, walking over. "I understand your belief that things will just work out like that. However, that ra… -mouse, and I." He closed his eyes, rolling his paw. "In the brief time I met him, confronted him, got to talk to him and learn about him. -The more I think about it, the clearer it is that there is some kind of dark and perverted kinship between us. We are the same, only good and evil, a flair for the dramatic, a commonality of thought, that he's my…" He closed his eyes, rolling his paw in front of him as if waiting for someone to fill in for him.
"-Foil," came a call from the side, Mr Fox smiling and giving a bow to Kris.
"Exactly, and I am certain he knows that too, and that he will make it his mission to realise that," Mr Fox said, holding his wife. "My darling, you know me as I know you, and ergo you can get some idea of what kind of mammal we're facing. -To him, just leaving it like this, it's not good enough. We will face each other again, at the end, at the dramatic finale to all of this."
She smiled, shaking her head. "And what makes you think that he'll be able to do that?"
"My darling," he leant forward, nose touching nose. "He's too dramatic to not let it. After all, us just staying here, all this time? That would be such a let down, would it not?"
"After the recent excitement, I'd be happy to end on a let down," Felicity said, pausing as the kit on her shoulder let out a loud belch. "Thankyou for metaphorically bookending that," she said, turning away.
"Darling," Mr Fox said, smiling contently. "If you had all the power in the world, our lives would be beautifully humdrum and boring."
"Well I don't, and I have you to deal with, though I am certain now that you're not doing anything as silly as going out and trying to hasten this final dramatic confrontation you so seem to want." She raised an eyebrow, keeping a long watch on him.
"Ah, that is the great difference between him and I," he smiled. "He shall be putting his effort into bringing the fight to us. I myself will be busy preparing to fight him back and send him running away, my tail hanging between his legs."
"Well," she mused. "I suppose if he somehow finds out where we are, if the lines of ZPD guards and the security of this compound fail, your little obsession might come in handy."
"It will be my pleasure to show that I'm right," he smiled, as Ash walked up to him.
"And that my assistance also mattered.
"Exactly," Mr Fox said. "Now, I have something planned for you. Remember your chemis…"
"-Ash, don't feed into your father's eccentricities."
"What?" the young fox asked. "What else are we going to do here?"
"There are plenty of activities for you to pass your time with," she said, smiling. "You've been trying to teach your brother sign language, haven't you?"
Ash nodded. Something he'd read up had said that a baby's comprehension of language started developing long before their ability to sound words. -Hence they could be taught basic sign language. 'Hungry, hurts, love you, etcetera. Alas…
"It hasn't been going too well. He only knows one so far."
"Which one is that?" his mother asked.
Rowan answered by slapping his paw against his head.
"Well," she noted. "I can see the use. Once he's had his nap you can carry on."
"And until then?" Ash asked again.
"Any of the other many activities we can do here," she smiled.
"Such as?"
She put on a smile only for it to fade, returning with a slightly dead inside look. "-Play video games," she said, waving him off.
Ash looked at her as she walked off, a bemused look on his face. He glanced back to his father, back to her, back to his father. "I just got every teen kits dream and I'm not happy. What's going on?"
His father knelt next to him, paw on shoulder. "Son, welcome to adulthood."
"I don't like it."
"Neither do I, that's why I ignore it the best I can."
"Can you teach me how?"
"Certainly," he said, looking around. Mrs Fox was still there. "Just not right now yet."
Both foxes looked at Mrs Fox who shrugged. "Thankfully our current living situation means I'm not going anywhere."
"You keep that state of mind if it makes you happy," Mr Fox said, standing up and walking off. Ash, despite his mother's slightly disapproving gaze, followed him at least as far as the small lounge. There, seeing Kris sitting down, he chose to join him, meditating alongside.
…
"Who do you want to be right?"
Ash paused, looking over to his cousin. "What do you mean?"
The platinum furred silver fox kept his eyes closed and legs in the lotus position. "Your mother has faith that we will be safe here and are out of the war. Your father believes that it will come whatever, and that we should be ready. Who do you want to be right?"
"-Well I mean Rattigan attacked us before, we know what he can do, it makes sense for Dad to get ready for them. And Mum to try and keep us sane here and not panicking."
Kris nodded slowly. "That didn't answer my question."
"...I don't know, I'm just being sensible. Which one do you want?"
"Both."
"...-That's cheating!"
"My mind, my person, knows to side with your mother. My heart, my animal, wants to bring the fight to that assigned rat at birth."
Ash nodded, frowning. "What about to all the bad guys he might be allied with and stuff."
"There's only one bad mammal I don't want to face again," Kris breathed out. "But I don't need to worry about her."
Ash nodded, looking away. "I want whatever keeps us sane here."
Kris smiled. "Go help your father, then play video games."
The red fox smirked. "That's cheating."
His cousin managed a small one to match. "Live up to the stereotype."
"Fine," he said, sitting up again and walking out. He gave a glance at the cards Agnes had brought on her recent visit, from friends, from the teachers at school, that had been nice. Mostly for Kris.
He then went off to grab his chemistry book and to see what he could make. Before he did so he gave a glance outside into the small walled off rock garden. The mosses and fungi around the edges did little to bring life to the stone and gravel areas. Looking up, seeing the walls of the looming caverns above, the soft glow of the walls and the bright lights of settlements nestled in the nooks and crannies above, he let his eyes linger. There was a seeming static in the air, hundreds of thousands of small black shapes swarming around, silhouetted against the light, the soft beat of their wings a light backdrop alongside the heavier bass of falling streams and waterfalls and the ever present tip-tapping of dripping water.
That was more interesting, though he'd seen it so much that it didn't really do anything for him anymore. He shrugged it off, pausing as he saw a small glint of light on a cliff nearby. He narrowed his eyes a little before shrugging, shaking it away.
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The serval watched him turn away from the window, slipping her binoculars away and shuffling further into the small wet crack in the rock she'd found. Even with the waterproof sheet and thick clothes she'd purchased, this had been getting exceedingly uncomfortable. Just how did mammals cope living in this place!
She shuffled down closer, reaching down to take another bite of her food reserves.
Two days gone, two days left.
She grit her teeth.
They knew they were there. They knew where they were being kept. What was taking them so long!? In and out, do it quick!
It didn't matter though, she was here to play her part. It didn't matter that 'her role was done', it didn't matter that she'd 'earned her keep' and 'fulfilled her mission'.
She'd be here when they came.
She'd be here to play her part in taking these mammals down, bringing them to the justice they'd designed the system to allow them to avoid. She'd be there to learn just how and where their tentacles of power, of abuse, of evil and sickness went and ended.
By all means, she may not be able to reach the end when the vulpine supremacy was taken down. But she'd be there to light the first fire.
She'd be there, at the start, even before the damn vanguard turned up.
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"Still not used to food?"
The groundhog looked up fearfully, shrinking into his baggy black and white prison suit. The white bear towering above him looked down at the grey oatmeal porridge, mashed up and played with but with very little actually eaten. The small rotund rodent certainly seemed a lot less rotund than he was on his first day here. "No-no…" He stuttered.
The polar bear nodded, looking down at his own mostly uneaten plate. Steamed fish fillets, certainly not an offensive piece of food, being an obligate carnivore did come with its advantages.
"Ever try fish?"
"I'm not a pred," he said, freezing. "-N-not that that's bad or anything…"
Timofey leant over and let a heavy paw slam down on his shoulder, the small rodent jerking up and into himself, a panicked 'eeeeep' coming out.
The bear chuckled. "I am not offended by that," he said, leaning down, in, closer. He whispered into his ear. "I am more offended by 'little prank' you play to find yourself here, da?"
Trembling, Beavis looked up at the large bear. "I… I… Hey, I was dumb, right. Big dummy who…"
"Bullied smaller mammals, thought he could get away with it," the bear said, leaning forward and pinching his mouth shut with a pair of claws. "No honour," he growled. "No decency. Da?"
The shaking groundhog nodded his head.
"If I wanted to, I would put you in your place, maybe with them…" He gestured over to a corner of the canteen, a brown hare and a wolf eating together, alone. He raised an eyebrow. "That might be justice, hmmmm…"
A soft gulp came from the captive mammal.
"But," Timofey spoke. "I have also suffer from bullies, my family ripped apart, by bullies. No decency. No honour." Beavis threw his paws up, eyes shut, the polar bear raising an eyebrow. "Biggest bullies, the bullies who threw us cubs in here. Which is why what is asked of me, of you, I can bear to go throug."
Jerking his head slightly, the rodent opened his eyes, confused.
"You deserve to spend all time in world here. As it happens, your sentence will be ending quite a bit early."
'We're gonna es…'
Timofey slammed the small mouth shut. "Idiot," he hissed, grimacing. He carried on, his voice hushed. "I do not know why they want you, other than it is payback for something. A something that will give me payback too. And freedom, for what family I have left. So, you will do as told and I will help you cheat, da?"
He let go, Beavis nodding furiously. "Yeah, yeah, do what I'm told and…" He glanced around, making sure none of the guards were present. "Where's the tunnel."
Timofey looked forward, grimacing as he idly messed with his food. "After breakfast, we go to my cell. Wait for further instructions."
"R-right," Beavis muttered, hunkering down. "So they're tunnelling in?"
The polar bear reached down, spooned up a heavy load of the now cold porridge and thrust it into the squirming groundhog's mouth. He gagged, only for a paw to hold him tight, forcing him to swallow, a wave of revulsion coming over his face. "You going to shut up now?"
"H-hey, you don't get to…"
Timofey rolled his eyes. "No then. -Here comes train. Choo Choo…"
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"Coming to ask me to reconsider?" Dr Silverfox asked, looking up.
"Oh, no," the pallas cat purred. "The snowball is rolling already, it's too late to back out now." She smiled, leaning in, before gesturing to a bank of TV screens a lion and tiger were pushing into their cells. She glanced over at the two other captives, the pig and the fox. "Boys, I'm certain my dear Paddy entertained you thoroughly on round one. Now?" She smiled. "It is time for the woman's touch."
She left the cell, walking out and down one of the corridors, following the banks of wires and pipes fixed to the walls. Skipping over a small puddle, she turned to her minions. "You've arranged to pick up our little agent?" she asked.
"She's not at her home," the tiger purred. "I don't know where she is but, from what one of the techies said trying to reach her number, she's underground. Quite far underground."
The pallas cat froze, growling. "Eager little one, can't follow instructions."
"Or rather lack of them," the lion spoke. "Still, if she wants to throw herself in…"
"Fine," Felicity spoke. "When you're with them, tell the rest of the infiltration group that she might be there and to bring her in. Maintain the illusion." She turned to them. "I want to be the one to shatter it myself."
"Yes Ma'am," they replied, running off. Reaching her control room, she settled down, observing the various cameras. Tuning in to the various feeds and microphones she had. Making sure her mammals were in the right place, the right time.
She reached into one, speaking in. "Test, tes…"
"Da," a voice came out, the cat smiling.
"You have the anonymous rodent with you?" She smirked.
"I… That's me?" came a particularly irritating voice.
"Good," Felicity said, leaning in. "Listen closely, here's the plan."
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Oates shielded his eyes from the sun as he walked into the large autoshop. He wasn't exactly familiar with the empire that Rattigan was purported to have once built, from what the rodents had said it was built very much on the forms of enterprise that Mr Big felt beneath him. Sure, illegal messaging, micro-smuggling, spying, espionage, insider trading were all common amongst the small criminals across the city. But mammal smuggling, the use of fear, the use of terror. Mr Big had founded Little Rodentia, it had been his baby, but once the shrew had move out to cooler climates a much more malignant influence had chosen to move in. A power base amongst the larger denizens of the city within the city, those Big having inside too small to match up and those outside too large to gain entry.
Oates thought it a slight irony that after all this time that, on his return, Rattigan had made the same move, taking on the largest of the predators as his muscle.
Here, though, if it was one of the rat's lynchpin enterprises…
'Bunnzinger Vehicle Conversions', as its name suggested, seemed to be staffed by at least a few of the long eared mammals, though many others, large and small, walked about the large concrete lot. Various large machines, mostly tractors but with plenty of construction vehicles, were laid about in various states of repair. They were old, not as old as the ones that Rattigan had used, but generally in far worse wear.
"-Excuse me sir, can I help you?"
Oates looked down to a portly skunk walking over, his denim overalls grease stained and hanging loose. "Hello, ZPD," the detective said, flashing his badge. "We believe a few of your vehicles were used in the riots a month or so ago. We're looking at…"
"-Well don't ask me," he cut in, crossing his arms. "I don't deal with who buys these things, I…"
"And who does?"
"Lemme show you to the boss mammal," he grunted, turning and walking on. "Not that it'll do you much good. You think we keep track of who buys and sells these things. Most the time, it's just bunny farms out in the sticks, upgrading an' stuff."
"You never know," Oates said, walking on. They entered a small office space, the skunk wiping his booted feet against the matt before looking over to the reception.
"Policemammal wanting to see if we know which bad mam used some of our vehicles."
The deer receptionist seemed much more cordial and invited Oates to sit down as she called up. A few minutes passed and a black and white furred rabbit walked out of a side door, calling the horse along. "So, what kind of things did they do?" he asked. "Use one of our vehicles for a ram raid?"
"Attacking the home of some witnesses," Oates replied. "-Though we believe they may have been using those same diggers for some illegal construction work for quite a while before."
The rabbit nodded, gesturing at the detective to sit down. He complied, bringing out some pictures of the vehicles in question and pushing them forward. The rabbit gave one glance at them and laughed. "Those are ancient. I probably wasn't even here when those were adapted."
"No issue," Oates replied, bringing out another set. This time of the controls themselves, the manual actuators over the pedals and hydraulic controls, as well as close ups of the internal chips.
"I…" The rabbit looked on, a little more confused.
"A forthcoming explanation would be appreciated," Oates smiled.
"Those are much more recent. -Still old, older than you'd think they were, but…" He stroked his chin. "The main thing is though, that seems like a fitted kit, albeit not fitted by us."
"Are you sure?"
"Well I hope I am," he said, head snapping up. "The job's shoddy…" He waved his paws. "Messed up, wires loose."
"Are do it yourself kits common then?" Oates asked.
The rabbit gave a huff. "-For things like cars, maybe. Simple tractors too, that's where most of our business lies." He gave a wave at himself. "Ever wondered why my species has such a bad reputation behind the wheel? It's all those farmers out there who buy old vehicles much too big for them and convert them for use. Often badly." He sighed, wrinkling his muzzle a little. "-We'd install something like that on an old basic level tractor or excavator, but either they'd bring it to us or us to them, I…" He paused, looking up. "Did this happen to have any radio transmitters on it, or…"
"Not that I'm aware of, no," Oates replied.
"Right…" the rabbit said. "Just we had a shipment or two of radio controlled systems go missing about a year ago." He shook his head.
"-And you didn't report this, because?"
The rabbit blew out a chuckle. "Things go missing," he shrugged.
"Or… Things are acquired," Oates replied.
"-Yeah, yeah, unlike the stack of catalytic converters," the rabbit cut in. "Unlike our copper wiring, or some of the small mammal and rodent vehicles we have. All there and ready and easier at every level, but still there the morning after. Things go missing, they were insured, more bother than it was worth."
"I've heard that one before," the horse smiled, relaxing back in his chair. "'Course, depends how much more bother."
The rabbit looked up, his nose twitching. "Just what are you insinuating?"
"Oh, I don't know. Just… Sometimes the mammal whose nose the thing is under may just be the one who…"
"-Why would I steal some radio controller kits that I could get remade for a hundred bucks in a week?" the rabbit asked, throwing his paws out. "And… -Why would I even tell you about it in the first place if I wanted to hide it, huh? Why would I, it's not like you'd even know or something."
"Right, right," Oates waved off.
"No," the rabbit snarled, standing up. "You come into my business, you insult me, you insult one of my oldest workers, you…"
"-Now I don't remember doing that," the horse cut in. "Care to elaborate?"
"The only mammal on duty that night, one who, if he wanted to, could take all manner of more expensive stuff, was an older worker I inherited with the business. Worked here thirty years. Why, after all that time, would he steal a bunch of radio controllers or let them be stolen?"
Oates breathed in, a grin broadening. "Let's go ask him then?"
The rabbit stared at him before throwing up his paws. "Fine, sure, let's go." He jumped down and began walking off. "You know, I've had fantastic workers who I've laid off when cashflow has been tight so I can keep this mammal in a job."
"I do now," the horse said. "I also know that you did not found this business. Care to tell me more about that? I'm curious, genuinely."
The rabbit paused, shrugging. "As I said, lots of bunnies are used to buying bigger equipment and doing ad-hoc conversions. Now plenty of the big companies build farm equipment with this in mind, combines built for horse drivers but with a bunny seat and all. -But that's not going to stop bunny farmers buying an old digger for next to nothing to clear out the drain ditches once a year. -Just need to be able to drive it. -Same for lots of mammals and lots of things, which was where this company got started, dealing with city mammals. Only problem was drive by wire became standard. Started getting cars and heavy machinery and all that coming straight off the line with electronic controls, you'd just plug in a remote to a port or stick a mini control seat on a dashboard port and…" He clicked his fingers. "Took a while to start filtering down to the second paw market, but when it did places like these began dropping like flies."
"Until you purchased it and started swinging to the bunny market, right?"
"Part that," the rabbit replied. "Farmers of any species will go for the oldest dumbest bits of junk you can get, if it's cheap enough. -A quarter of what we convert are write-offs. We also started offering more specialist controls."
He gestured over to a small display, showing a 3D printed mini version of an excavator. Pretty much a rodent sized model of the much older looking vehicle in the distance, with surrounding VR display systems.
"Oddly enough, we've even found a nice market going the other way," the rabbit said. He pointed at a marketing picture showing a pair of sheep construction workers digging out a hole for a fencepost using a remote controlled rabbit sized digger.
Oates glanced down at him. "How many do you sell to kits and cubs?"
"Of what age?" the rabbit asked, his gruff demeanor briefly flashing away with a smirk.
"Of all ages," Oates replied, the pair walking out.
"Enough for us to have a Kitmas rush," the rabbit replied. "We also do a bunch of leasing out and stuff. Some otters buy a new house in the meadowlands and want to dig a pool, we can rent them some pig sized machines for that. -Though most of our big stock is large mammal sized." He paused, waving up to the skunk from before, busy with a few other mammals converting an old wolf sized van into a multi-floored bunny carrier.
It took them a while to cross the lot before they reached the mammal in question, Oates looking on at the larger rhino busy helping to fit cameras to a full sized modern digger. "Hey, Dunlip?"
The older rhino looked up, pausing as he glanced at Oates.
"-Got this ZPD detective, decided he wanted to bother you. Don't worry, I'm on your side here."
"I don't…" the rhino began, only for Oates to cut in, looking over at the digger and turning down to the rabbit.
"-So, this is a drive by wire model?" the horse asked, looking in.
"Are you going to talk to my worker or not?"
"Answer for me, Dunlop," Oates said, looking at the rhino.
He gave a huff. "Dunlip. Hanz Dunlip," he said. "And yes, you can see the plug in for the remote control system there." He pointed at it. "And the top seat there."
Oates looked in, noticing the fold up panel on the dashboard before leaning out. "So, what kind of conversion does this need anyhow?"
"Well, uh, it's remote but its…" the rhino began, his boss cutting in.
"You have to be standing a dozen or so feet away, still wired in, or be swinging about on top of the dash without much view," the rabbit said. "We're fitting cameras and a remote control link, while printing out a mini version of the cab for the operator to work in. -He could be at home nice and warm, while chopping and hauling wood out in the pouring rain."
"Bit hard to do with a digger," the horse began, the rhino huffing out and stepping back, pulling away a tarp to reveal a set of new attachments for the end.
"I'm surprised the filth's standards have gotten so low," the rhino said, ignoring the disapproving look his boss flashed him.
"So, tell me Heinz," Oates smiled, "You were with this company before it was this company."
"Yeah, and?"
"Just wanted to check," the horse continued. "Are you familiar with any of these vehicles?"
"No."
"You haven't even seen them yet," the horse said, bringing out the pictures of them and the control system.
The rhino looked at them for a second or two before shaking his head. "Haven't seen those before."
"They were used to attack a bunch of innocent mammals on the night of the riots," the horse continued. "I…"
"-I want a lawyer." There was a pause, the words hanging in the air. "-It's my right," the older mammal quickly filled in. "You can't take it from me, if you're going to question me and try to pin the blame…"
"Just trying to tie up some loose ends, that…"
"-I had nothing to do with that, okay! Look, shoddy work, basic, no cameras or remote system, you can't prove anything."
…
Oates smiled. "Now when did I mention cameras or a remote system?"
The horse could swear he could see the rhino gulping, the larger mammal paused, frozen, trying to work out where to go from…
"-I mean," the horse carried on, "that would imply…"
"-I've worked with camera systems for over a decade, I'm working on one now," the rhino rushed out, crossing his arms. "It was on my mind, I know that there was a set that went missing or was swiped or something not too long ago, you think that might have been me, huh? You're going to twist my words to prove it? -Well I mean I just slipped and proved that I didn't have anything to do with those, and whatever crime they were used for. So you've got nothing on me. I'm not going to answer anything more. If you want me to, bring me in and get me a lawyer."
He turned back to his work, ignoring a few questions by Oates. The horse finally turned to the rabbit, the leporidae stuck glancing between the two larger mammals before his gaze landed on the detective, brow furrowing. "I've worked with him for decades, mammals slip up. If you want to speak to him, do as he says. Now, I don't think you have a warrant, so if you'd kindly…"
"I'm going, I'm going," Oates smiled, hooves up as he walked away.
.
.
.
.
"Still think Rattigan can win, Petey?" Nick asked, his voice breaking through the silence of the interrogation room.
The goat looked back at him blankly from his fixed steel chair.
"I mean, we were all confused about why you, the others, held back, didn't buy any of our offers. A free ride to help us, I mean some of Bellwether's cronies were down for it." He smiled. "I owe my life to one. You know, I think it's genuinely inspiring that your boss' evil could be so great it could unite us like that."
"I'll relay the honour personally, I guess," he said with a shrug.
Nick widened his eyes. "So he does speak."
"I can sing too," Petey smiled.
"So can I, and play guitar," the fox said.
The goat nodded. "So you say."
"So I do, so I do," Nick said. "You know…" He tapped one of his claws against the table. "Faith… Faith is a funny thing. Mammals can do all manner of cussed up stuff in order to get to that promised land beyond. I can get that. What Rattigan could promise, I don't."
"And that's on your lack of imagination," the ginger coated caprid replied.
"Yeah, yeah, but to be fair robo demon owl is kind of a hard thing to come up with without a prompt."
The fox hid his glee as he saw the ripples of concern race across his opponent. "-And there we are. You know, that we know, and now things are much more real for you, aren't they?" Nick asked, leaning in. "After all, for you at least, you have the faith that Rattigan will succeed. That he can raise the dead, that he can take over and win, ascend, and conquer the world as Rattiwerk… Or Clockgan. -Padrigan Rattiwerk? They don't really roll off the tongue as much as… What was it, Inspector?"
"-Clock-La," the vixen said, walking forward out of the shadows, standing side by side with Nick. Both vulpine's stared down at the captive caprid. "The last mammal who tried what Rattigan was doing. -Who failed, who was being consumed, before we took down Clockwerk for a second time." She smirked. "You see, that's the thing you don't seem to get. Rattigan is going to fail. Fail badly. -He'll get consumed and taken over by Clockwerk, who won't have any care or feelings of gratitude to you. There will be no rescue. And even if by some miracle Rattigan pulls it off and ascends, we know how to take down Clockwerk now." She leaned in, smirking. "You see, that's the problem with megalomaniacs like Rattigan, they just, don't, get it. All they can do is project."
"Of course Clockwerk was a moron," Nick pantomimed. "Power of a god, but sitting all that time in a volcano in the most remote corner of the world? Oh, such wasted potential, yadda, yadda." He leant in. "But it was always the fear of what Clockwerk could do that kept him safe. Wasn't it?"
Petey remained quiet.
"She took him down twice," he said, pointing over to Carmelita. "Now for most of mammal history, it would be a struggle, I admit. But now, with shock pistols and jet fighters." He leant forward. "It was always quid-pro-quo with him and the Tsars and the Soeviet leaders. Leave me alone, I leave you alone. Try anything, well…" He settled back. "I for one believe that Paddy the Ratty lacks that subtlety. Or at least would not want to play the same game once he gets the power. Am I right?"
Petey rolled his eyes. "He will fight, he will win. Do you think we'd start this if we thought he couldn't?"
"Couldn't," Carmelita began, "and shouldn't are very different words. Sure, had you done all this with no-one picking up, escaped into the night, taken down those who could match him cloak and dagger…" She shrugged. "One hell of a war, but maybe…" She then stared at the goat. "Maybe not when the whole of Interpol, when everyone in the ZPD, is prepared, waiting." She shrugged. "Of course that is all a moot point, Clockwerk will win against Rattigan. There is no contest."
There was a long pause. "So," Petey asked, trying to cross his arms only for his chains to stop him. "Why bother with all this?"
"Quite frankly a resurrected Clockwerk scares me far more than a Clockwerk under Rattigan's command," Carmelita said. "Tell us where your secret base is, we end this, you get a ten year sentence and after that we hush-hush you off to some remote farm where you can live off the rest of your days."
"Or," Petey began, nodding his head. "I can try escaping out in the chaos. I think I'll take my chances with that. Especially given that you're not saying everything. Are you?"
Nick and Carmelita looked at each other, the fox todd waving his arms up in the air. "Okay, he's got us, he's got us."
"Sí," the vixen agreed. "It is true."
"Absolutely."
"One-hundred percent."
"We're not worried about Clockwerk or any of that," the fox smiled, opening up a box and dropping down a small coppery pendant, burnt and damaged at one end. "We've already stopped that."
The goat looked on, a slight tremble in his face.
"Niedelines, Ratsputin, Yakateriniburg, Kozlov, Duga, East Bearlin, Pripyak, Zootopia," Carmelita listed off. "This little Talisman has had a long, long journey, but for your boss it was over before it even began." She smiled. "Don't you know? This was shorted out and busted up decades ago."
"Clockwerk was not happy," Nick said, paws together. "We're talking nuclear level tantrum here."
Carmelita briefly soured up like milk left out in the middle of Sahara Square for a full week before recovering, looking down. "What's more, on his journey Kozlov identified a potential site of another talisman. It's only rough, but our team is there, searching. Once we have that it's only a matter of time, using them together to pinpoint the rest. Hunting them down and destroying them one by one, while Rattigan's trail has run out."
"I…" He gritted his teeth, looking up. "So then, why care?"
"Because, despite his supernatural evil plan being foiled," Nick replied, "his regular natural evil plan succeeded, brilliantly. If by that you mean he has a heap of gold and lots and lots of mammals are dead." The fox wrinkled his nose, leaning in. "I had to sift through the filth that was left. That horror will never leave me. I still have dreams, nightmares, phobias I thought I'd left behind have returned, my partner lost a member of her family. This is about justice, plain and simple. We do not want Rattigan to scurry away to some tropical island, or to get a foolproof new identity. We want to catch him, imprison him, lock him up in the most miserable cell we have and let, him, rot."
Carmelita nodded. "I for one would maybe also encourage a very quick re-legalisation of the death penalty in truly exceptional cases…" She shrugged. "But that's just me."
Nick nodded, looking over with a smug smile. "Let me guess, electric chair?"
"Guillotine, please."
"I mean," Nick said, turning back. "Maybe a final death certificate will finally shake your belief that he is ever coming back for you, that you have any salvation in him. But I'd prefer it if you lose your religion sooner rather than later. Makes it easier on all of us."
Petey looked back before shrugging. In fact, he began to sing. "Oh Yee of little faith, young fox. Oh yee of little faith. With a sha-sha-sha and a lee-lee-lee…"
He was cut off by a slam of Carmelita's paw on the desk. "That's just weak songwriting. You wrote a bad song Petey."
"Well you try making it up as you go along," he said with a huff.
Carmelita looked over at Nick. "I think he just gave you permission for special time with him afterwards."
The fox todd smiled. "Oh goody!"
"Maybe I could give you some pointers," the goat replied.
"Yeah, yeah, endear yourself to me," the fox smiled. "It'd help before we dump you in Gen Pop."
"Is that a threat?" the caprid asked, quizzically. "I don't see how it is. I'm quite a friendly guy, really. I make friends easily."
"Ah, like all the polar bears we have locked up in there," Nick said with a smile. "You know, the ones who like you were told Rattigan would come back for them. -Which he hasn't." He shook his head. "Gotta be pretty frustrating. Shame they don't have Rattigan there to take those out on."
"That or a second in command," Carmelita agreed.
"Someone who knew all the plans and stuff."
"Who knew that those bears were just there to be duped."
Nick nodded. "I mean, that would be tragic, for him."
"And if they are faithful?" Petey asked.
"-Well," Nick said, templing his fingers together. "At that point they'll just beat you to a pulp for betraying and spilling the beans about a load of stuff to Paddy the Ratty."
"But… I didn't. I didn't do that," the goat said, glancing between them.
"Ah, well," Nick said, a smile growing on his face. "That's the thing."
"-You can't just tell them I did it and expect it to work, they don't really believe cops."
"Sí," Carmelita agreed. "But they do believe Rattigan." He looked between them, confused. "Do you remember," she carried on, "that time we led you out to a prison van, stuck you in, then swooped you out."
"What if I say no?"
"We'll ignore you," Nick said, carrying on. "The point is, that little weirdness was part of a ploy to examine whether we had a mole or not in the ZPD. -We do on the catering team, but that's not what I mean. Thing is, it succeeded. Did you know that those vans you saw were attacked, quite extensively, by your boss." Nick dropped out the pictures of the exploded and manchineeled vans. Petey looked at them, quietly. "Quite lethal, huh?"
"And fun fact," Carmelita almost purred. "One survived, drove around, and amidst Project Chaos and the riots, Rattigan won't know where its occupant will have ended up. To him, there's no point in silencing you anymore given that you likely spilled on Project Chaos, and that is now over. But he will have no plan to rescue you, and many of those bears may still be under orders to finish the job if they see you."
"So, where's your faith now, hmmm?" Nick asked.
Time stretched on until the goat gave a shrug. "I'm not really sure. Amidst all the times you've tried to make me crack, me just waiting here, knowing what is planned. Just trying to see how desperate you are when you come in, like when those mice and that horse came in, telling me Project Chaos had gone down. That the big chance to rescue me had failed. -It was kind of odd it was a few days, maybe a week really, after the end of what I clearly heard as a riot outside. I'm not sure why they waited so long to inform me of what I already knew. -Maybe to give time for the manchineel smoke wounds to heal somewhat, their eyes recover, they got mostly there. Which suggests that they were hit by the manchineel smoke during whatever they were doing, something no other officer or guard was." He looked at them, giving a yawn.
"-And yes," he continued. "Plenty might have, I might not have seen them. But it was still curious. Anyway, I'm guessing they went to a certain partner of Rattigan's, the one who supplied that smoke, the one you probably let overhear you talking about my supposed 'betrayal', and on learning that that information had made its way through acted to arrest him. Or her. Not sure why I'm obfuscating it really, I can see the slightly concerned, irritated, impressed looks on your face at how I was able to deduct that. And obviously given who two of those detectives were a lot of pointless monologuing would have gone on, pointing out exactly how they tricked them, information that then made it back to Rattigan. -Which you'll say did not happen, you captured him, but you'll be unable to bring him in for me to see or anything, so we could just jump to the end of this. Rattigan knows I am faithful. I have faith in him."
The two foxes looked on, silent.
"That…" Petey said, "was good, wasn't it?"
Nick let out a long breath. "I can see why the rat employed him now."
"Sí, that was impressive."
"Of course, it would have taken a long time to disseminate that information," Nick followed on. "Those troops caught on the night wouldn't have got it, would they?"
"You mean the ones in General Pop?" Carmelita asked.
"I do mean the ones in General Pop," Nick smiled.
Both of them turned back to the goat. "Big polar bears," she said.
"Newly minted as the most hated species in the city," Nick agreed. "I'm surprised sheep aren't lining up to thank you."
"Angry polar bears."
"And you, cops, who have rules and standards," the goat said. "And I, who have my faith."
"So," Nick said, crossing his paws. "That's it? Just wait, come what may, have faith. That's your plan?"
"I… Yes, we've discussed this."
"Not a great plan."
"I quite like it."
"I guess," Carmelita replied. "You've just managed to piss off an entire city, including its heroes, secret agents, a pair of super skilled detectives, a demigod killing super Inspector," she gave a smile and a curtsey.
"-Kung fu warriors," Nick continued. "Mystics, the US military, potentially a former crazed vigilante, a group of societally conscious vigilantes who've been very quiet and probably squirrelling away at something for a while, lots of biker wolves, media moguls and some international super thieves."
He shrugged. "I can manage."
"Can Rattigan?" Carmelita asked.
"That was implied, yes."
"Very well then," Nick sighed. "We'll give you a little longer to think about it." He looked to Carmelita and she to him, the pair turning and starting to make their way out. Reaching the door, unlocking it, they began stepping through only to pause, looking back. "-One last thing," the todd said. "There is someone else you've pissed off."
"Who?" Petey asked blankly.
Nick looked up, into the shaded corner behind the goat, a figure emerging. "His name's Sylvester."
The goat began to speak only to freeze as a cold hook of metal rested on one shoulder. The right hand field of his vision was intruded on by a bronze crook, his own features reflected on its ancient polished surface. For a moment his face wrinkled up with confusion, then ire and humour at the audacity, before a turn of the head and a glance back gave him a view of the mammal at its end.
He shook in his chair, shuffling it forward as his head snapped around to the front then back again, as if the glitch in reality would sort itself out and vanish.
It didn't.
"Hello Petey," Sly said, voice calm but firm. Cane resting on the goats shoulder, the raccoon pivoted around, maintaining eye contact all the while. Looking up at the caprid and staring him down, down, down, his brow furrowed.
Finally, the cane lifted as he glanced back to the shade, smirking. "I was there the whole time." He gave a smile and a wink, leaving the room with the two foxes.
Standing outside, they were surprised to see Judy there.
"Give it some time," Nick began.
"-Need your help," the bunny said. "Oates has some more information."