Alex Reynard
The Library
Alex Reynard's Online Books
CHAPTER FORTY THREE
The air throbbed with screams, sirens, and the aftershocks of shuddering metal.
Toby was bent over, hands on shins. Staring at the undulating concrete below him. Breathing hard and trying to prevent more vomit. Piffle was patting him on the back. "Good boy, Toby. You did good. I'm proud of you."
Toby tried to gasp out some thanks, but all he could manage were weak little squeaks.
They were lucky enough to be lost amongst the chaos for now. Everyone around them was either fleeing or rubbernecking. No one much cared about a mouse in blue and a hamster in pink. Piffle was aware that this would probably change quickly once the residents remembered that the criminals who'd brought down the mall were still standing around in plain sight.
Piffle swatted Toby's tush. "Let's skedaddle! We might be able to escape if we're quick enough!"
That little spank brought Toby back to reality and put some red in his cheeks. "Where's Zinc?" He scanned all around for the canine, but picking out one lone furson amongst all the shattered glass, dead bodies, smashed furniture, and clouds of debris-dust was impossible.
Piffle tugged Toby's shoulder. "The coppers'll probly catch him, but if we get away we can plan a jailbreak! C'mon!"
"I'm not very optimistic about that," he muttered. But his brain was elsewhere. His eyes ended up lingering on a great big crumpled thing with tangled rotors on top of it. "That's that news copter that was flying around," he said absently.
Piffle didn't give a hoot. She gave Toby's arm another tug, then was dumbstruck as her mousefriend started pulling away from her towards the crime scene. "Toby! Yoohoo! Wake up! You're runnin' to where the cops are!"
"I know, but..." He squinted through the smoke and dust. "There's probably people in that helicopter. They might be trapped in there."
Pink hearts exploded out of Piffle's head. "Oh, Toby! You mean you wanna rescue them, at great risk to life and limb, even if it means gettin' thrown in the hoosegow? How heroic!"
He blushed harder. "Wl'actually, I was thinking that if we do something to show the news people we're not evil, that might help our case in court. I have a feeling we're not gonna escape this one. Might as well plan ahead."
"Slightly less selfless, but still admirable in its practicality," Piffle assessed. "How can I help?"
They arrived at the shore of a vast glass ocean. The falling chunks of window had brought the chopper down and was now trapping it in a lacerating web. Piffle's feet hurt just imagining what- Her jaw dropped as Toby started off across the glass without a second's hesitation.
He walked with careful, deliberate steps, but his posture showed no fear.
Piffle couldn't believe it. Even with his brand new sandals, that glass was still sharp enough to carve right through. How was timid little Toby deLeon not terrified of the stuff?
In truth, he kind of was. But he kept his mind clear and focused on his footsteps. It wasn't far to the helicopter, and he could already see the pilot and the cameraman dangling out, their bodies red as pasta sauce. He winced. He called back over his shoulder, "Piffle? If I drag 'em out, can you fly them to a place where there's less glass?"
"Roger that!" She flitted over, like a little helicopter herself, and perched on the roof.
The pilot was the easiest. One tug got him flopped out past the windshield for Piffle to pick up. She 'Oof!'ed at his dead weight. Her evac gave Toby time to extricate the cameraman. Toby tried not to look at the square knot the man's legs had been turned into. Also, his camera would be coming with him, as it was literally duct-taped in his grip.
Once Piffle had him spirited away as well, Toby poked his head inside to look for anymore... survivors? That was hardly the right word.
The chopper's main body was dented like a crushed beer can, but the vixen lady's bright orange fur was not hard to spot. Getting her past the bent seats and toppled computer equipment was the hard part. The feel of blood on fur made Toby grimace as he got his arms underneath her. Lifting her up, he had a moment of recognition. The grey suit, the transparent joints... This was the lady from that news report he'd seen on TV earlier. 'Small world.'
He ducked out from under the collapsed roof and scuttled sideways to bring her past the debris. She stirred in his arms. She was coming back to life.
Toby saw her eyelids flutter and her chest hitch as breath returned to it. "Miss? Ma'am? Whatever your name is? You're going to be okay."
Jamais blinked. Something blurry was holding her.
Toby felt hopeful. 'I can tell her our side of things. How we were trying to save the city, not destroy it. Maybe they'll show me on the news. Maybe I'll get a medal for heroism!'
Jamais moaned as pain awoke her nerves. She grimaced, then blinked as her eyes adjusted and she could see who was carrying her.
She immediately decked the mouse in the temple.
Toby dropped her and Jamais started pounding on his head mercilessly. "You're one of the terrorists!! You were trying to kidnap me!! I won't go that easily, you rapist pervert! HELP!! POLICE!! I'M BEING ASSAULTED!!"
"Ow! Ow! Ow!" said Toby.
"He's trying to rescue you, you big jerk!" Piffle yelled as she swooped down and grabbed Jamais' arm.
"There's another one!! HEEELLLLLLLPPPP!!!" In an impressively acrobatic move, Jamais whipped one of her shoes off and started using it to pummel both her assailants.
Unsurprisingly, five policebots showed up. "YOU ARE UNDER ARREST FOR TOO MANY FELONY CHARGES TO SUCCINCTLY LIST. LIE DOWN ON THE GROUND AND YOU WILL BE COLLECTED WITHOUT HARM."
Jamais jumped away, pointing. "Yes! Arrest them! Beat the shit out of them! Save me!!" Her head swiveled around. "Where's the fucking camera!?"
Piffle rolled her eyes. She steadied Toby, then held up her arms. "Do y'mind collecting us standing up?" she asked the cop-bot politely. "I'd prefer not to lie down on broken glass."
"REMAIN MOTIONLESS OR YOU WILL BE RESTRAINED WITH FORCE," the cop replied. Which was apparently 'yes', because its tummy opened like a washing machine and its arms scooped up Piffle to bundle her in.
"See ya later, Toby!" she said cheerfully as she was tucked inside. The door slammed shut, sealing her away.
Toby was perfectly happy to offer no resistance whatsoever as robot arms did the same to him. "Well that worked out just fabulous..." he grumbled.
***
The police detectives were really quite gentle with him, considering that he and his friends were collectively charged with two counts of terrorism, two counts of conspiracy to commit terrorism, two counts of willful sabotage with intent to destroy a public landmark, several thousand counts of malicious destruction of property, a few hundred murder charges, and one count of petty theft from Rippingbean & Woofingbutter's Survival Emporium.
When the policebot had shoved Toby inside its abdominal cavity, that had actually been kind of a relief (instead of the claustrophobic hell it was for most people). It was almost like being in a sensory deprivation tank. And Toby, overstimulated beyond anything else he'd ever experienced in his life before, was rather appreciative of the chance to just sit in the dark and not have to deal with any more blood or explosions.
Another nice thing about the ride in the cop's belly was that it had taken his mind off the state of his clothes. He emerged with his outfit clean as new. He'd been deposited at Bigwheel Forty-Six's police precinct, on a bench that his flesh seemed inescapably magnetized to. His friends were beside him, also stuck, also free of blood and dust. Somehow the cops had gotten a collar on George that had reduced him to nothing but a head. Toby wasn't sure if his body had been vaporized, or was just shrunk down to the size of a jellybean.
There wasn't much time to wonder about that since he and his friends were soon whisked away to separate interrogation rooms. Toby had hyperventilated a bit at finding himself in a tiny white cube with two broad-shouldered detectives staring at him like vengeful golems. Toby honestly expected them to start punching him to pulp as soon as the door closed. They read his body language and promised him nothing of the sort would happen. Toby was surprised by how reserved and neutral their tone was when they spoke.
"I don't know where you're from, kid, but here we take 'innocent until proven guilty' seriously. We're just here for your statement. You tell us the one-hun-dred-per-cent truth, and there will be no problems."
That was exactly what Toby had planned to do anyway. With great relief, he spilled every bean he could think of. They nodded and 'hmm'ed, but asked surprisingly few questions. Toby tried to be as helpful and honest as possible. He just hoped that the others hadn't come up with some elaborate bullshit story to stick to that he'd inadvertently torpedoed.
After maybe an hour, two at most, the detectives nodded to each other and said they had all they needed. They told Toby to stand up, turn around, and face the wall behind him.
Toby broke out in a cold sweat, suddenly one-hun-dred-per-cent certain that this was where they'd club him in the back of the head and throw him in a rock quarry somewhere.
Instead, there was a big black rubber asshole in the wall.
He had only a second to ponder this before it opened up and sucked him in. Toby found himself traveling at very high speeds down a pitch-black esophagus that smelt like the inside of balloons. He didn't scream too much, as this was quite a lot like being vacuumed to and from his room at Sawbuck's Sleepeteria.
The ride ended abruptly as he was spat into a giant brass birdcage.
Toby took a moment to regain his senses, and before he could, he was tackled by a large, soft, pink object.
"Good ta see you again, Toby! Did they interview you too? Didja clam up and not tell dose coppers nuttin'? Or did you sing like a canary?"
From behind him, Toby heard Zinc snicker at that. Piffle helped him stand up. "I sang like a canary."
Piffle nodded approvingly. "I did too. We all did. I mean, we're the good guys, so there's no reason not to tell what really happened."
Toby looked around and was glad for the dim light down here. Otherwise his stomach might've rolled over once it realized where he was. The rubber tube had spat him into a hemisphere-shaped cage. The bars were brass. The interior featured a circular couch upholstered in well-scuffed red faux-leather. Nothing else to speak of in the cage, besides Zinc, Junella and George. When Toby walked towards the edge to squint beyond the bars, he froze in place. There were uncountable other birdcages down here. Each one was lit by a ring of lights surrounding the rubber hose exit. They were like glowing Christmas tree ornaments. And from their light, Toby got the sense that they were all dangling inside of a massively huge cylinder, like a grain silo, with an endless darkness below and above.
Very quietly, and very carefully, Toby turned away from the abyss and sat down with his paws in his lap. "We're gonna be stuck here a while, aren't we?" he squeaked.
Zinc was lying on his back, relaxing as well as he could on the curved couch. "Maybe, maybe not. But we may as well get comfy until we know for sure. Sit back. Kick your feet up. Want some confinement loaf?"
Zinc handed over a pan of what looked like very stale cornbread. Toby took one, not sure if it was food or building material. He gnawed a corner. It tasted much less awful than it looked.
Piffle skootched in between Zinc and Toby so she could hold the mouse's hand and tickle the canine's ears. "I'm still impressed by how brave you were, Toby, saving those folks in the news chopper. I'd never be able to run across all that broken glass!"
He shrugged. "It's not that impressive, really. And I didn't run, I walked. That's the secret. I saw it on some TV show that examined the physics of circus acts. Just like lying on a bed of nails, it's all about pressure and surface area. If you walk soft and watch for pokey-up parts, you'll be fine. Just one of the endless bits of TV trivia I've picked up. Though I've never actually put it in practice till today."
"Still pretty brave," Zinc said approvingly. "Shame I couldn't see it, but I was out of it, amigos." He made a little 'swoosh' motion with his hand. "Way gone."
"You were amazing," Toby told him, with as much emphasis as possible.
"I kinda was, wasn't I?" Zinc made little pleased 'arf's at Piffle's nimble touch.
"I would say that we all performed quite admirably today," George interjected. He was still just a head, and Junella had him seated in her lap while she drummed her fingers on his brow.
"Thanks, Georgie," Junella sang gently. The drumming seemed to please him, like petting a cat.
"You were amazing too, both of you," Toby told the skunk and stallion. "I only caught glances, but I could see waves and waves of cops. And you two held every one of them off by yourselves! That was incredible! And Junella, I thought it was all over when you ran at the cops and they shot you so many times!"
She grinned. "All part of the plan."
"You wanted to get shot!?"
She nodded: absolutely. "You can't win a fight with a cop-bot unless you stay clear of all their hand-gadgets. Safest place to be is to snuggle right up. And you can't do that without catching a few bullets first. It's all in the mindset. You gotta psyche yourself up. Convince yourself that no matter how many times they hit you, you'll hold on."
Toby just stared at her in awe. "I could never do that."
"Takes a lot of practice and a lot of craziness," she admitted.
Toby looked over at Zinc, about to ask him how he'd sawn through the mall supports, when he noticed that Zinc's wrenches and doorknockers were still attached to his shoulders. "I can't believe the cops didn't confiscate those."
Zinc shrugged. "What'm I gonna do with them in here? Try to escape?"
Toby looked around at the cage's bars, which didn't look particularly unbendable. "Well, yes."
Zinc and Junella both chuckled at the same time. "Trust us, Toby. We've gotten arrested in every city in Phobiopolis. We know every prison on the planet intimately. You do not escape from an EC cage."
The mouse cocked his head, not understanding why.
"Let's try a little deductive reasoning exercise," Zinc said. The mutt was looking supremely contented. He'd scooted over so his head was resting in Piffle's lap. "If we did bust out, where would we go?"
Toby glanced over at the inky depths surrounding them. "Straight down, I suppose. This has to be somewhere inside the main city shaft, right?" Zinc nodded. "So you'd probably fall for a mile or so and then splat. But you could resurrect and climb out, couldn't you?"
"Maybe. If you had real grit you could try. The walls here are completely smooth. Tough as lead. And the only way out is at the very top. But that's still not why nobody with any sense ever tries to escape."
Toby thought some more. "...Can I get a hint?"
Zinc grinned. "They send food and water down every now and then. But do you see any 'facilities' for afterwards?"
Facilities? 'Oh, he must mean toilets.' Toby looked at the floor of the cage. Perfectly smooth and padded just like the couches. No drains. So that must mean that the only place to do one's business was to drop your pants and aim it over the edge. Over the edge and down... to the... bottom...
Toby's face screwed up like he'd just eaten a whole lemon. "EEEWWWW!!!"
Zinc laughed his ass off.
The mental image was too gross to fathom. "If there's an ocean of poop down there, then why aren't we gagging on the stink right now!?"
"We're up really, really high," Junella answered. "So you'd get plenty of time on the way down to reflect on your stupidity if you do decide to hop the cooler and take a dive."
Toby held his tummy. "Let's stay put then."
Piffle kicked her feet back and forth as she looked across the other cages. In most of them she could see shadowy shapes. Other prisoners pacing around. "You seem to know about how stuff works here," she said, running her fingers through Zinc's cheekfur. "How long d'you think they'll keep us?"
He thought a bit. "Trials are pretty speedy in EC. Plus we're accused of some major pandemonium, so the people'll want justice ASAP. I'd bet we'll only chill in this swank pad less than a week. Probly a lot less. Luxy's crew work quick."
"He mentioned them during the trial I saw," Toby remembered. And felt a shiver of unreality at realizing he'd soon be in that courtroom. "I was gonna ask about them. And what's up with those plastic women with the TV heads?"
Piffle remembered too. "Oh right, the waiting room! How'd that turn out, by the way? Who won?"
Toby gave her a summary. She was quite pleased to hear of Luxy's cunning in getting the suspect to implicate himself.
At hearing Luxy Bleeder's name praised, Junella gave a 'Hmmph' and turned her attention to sharpening her needles with her cutlass.
Zinc's eyelids were shut and he looked like he might slip away at any moment to dreamland. But he'd kept listening. "To answer your questions, Toby, nobody knows who Luxy's crew are. They're his informants. Information-gatherers. Their identities are tip-top secret. Could be anyone. Could be disguised as random citizens. Could be robots. Or maybe Luxy's just God, who knows?
"As to the robodames," he chuckled, "I told you the guy's a homicidal maniac. If he had real assistants, of the alive, breathing, and female variety, he'd never be able to resist the temptation to kill 'em."
Toby grimaced. "How nice. And he's the guy that's gonna be deciding whether we go free or spend the rest of our lives down here?"
"Hey, you saw him in action. He's nutty as a fruitcake but he keeps his eyes on his cards," Zinc countered.
"Sometimes," Junella added venomously.
Toby's curiosity could no longer be contained. "Okay, I gotta ask! Junella, why do you seem to hate him so much?"
She looked like she'd been itching for that question to come up. "Because we did a job for that rat bastard a coupla years back and he welshed on paying us!!" she exploded. "He put out a casting call for mercs and we showed up first. We were right there in his office, sippin' his cognac, close as I am to you right now. He told us about this sickie who'd stolen some rich people's kids and fucked off to Papiloma to hide out and ransom them. Our job: track him down, beat him up, get the brats back. And we did. Busted our asses finding the scumbag. I did some shit to him with my tail I don't wanna describe in polite company. And then we had to drive back to EC totin' his carcass and babysittin' six screaming, spoiled little hellspawn. Every time we passed a cliff I contemplated kickin' 'em off. And after ALL that, what do we get for our troubles? He stares at us like he's never seen us before! Like we're out of our minds! And he's all flustered and apologetic, saying he's grateful and all, but he has no idea who we are, so he can't pay us for a job he never gave us. MotherFUCKER!! Yeah, he gave us half of what he promised as a 'reward' for dragging the kids back, but otherwise, he can go eat pigshit till he dies. Someone who can't honor a deal ain't worth the jam under their toenails." Here she pointed an accusing needle at Zinc. "And I don't know how the hell you can still talk so rapturously about that pukesuckin' putz like the sun shines out of his asshole!!"
Zinc looked like he'd been on the receiving end of this tirade many times before. His mouth opened and closed as he considered several responses and rejected them. "What can I say, Juney? He screwed us over once, yeah, but he's got a whole city to run. People make mistakes. I'm not gonna deny every one of a man's accomplishments just 'cause of personal shit."
Junella made a 'washing her hands of the matter' gesture. "I'm in no mood for another two-hour fight about this. I said my piece. Let's both drop it."
"Fine by me," Zinc added immediately.
Toby and Piffle looked at each other, feeling how the tension had risen in their little cage. Neither wanted to say anything to make matters worse.
After a few unpleasant seconds, it was Zinc who broke the silence. "By the way, Toby, you mentioned that rapist guy getting sentenced to The Pipe and flippin' his lid over it. I infer that might be weighing on your dome."
"Yes, actually. Is that's what's gonna happen to us?"
Zinc still didn't bother opening his eyes. "Just like you correctly guessed this place runs down the city's central axis, so does The Pipe ...which is always referred to like that even though they got more than one of 'em. Anyways, the deal is, it's a bigass long metal pipe that goes from about level Fifty all the way to the bottom. Just a bit too small for a person to fit through. But there's a vacuum at the bottom. And the sides got broken glass all up and down 'em. They put you in, you come out the bottom about a week later. And if your sentence ain't finished, you go back in at the top again."
All through this description, Toby's skin had been crawling harder and harder. Good lord, what would that feel like? What would it do to a furson's mind? He imagined himself in there, trapped in pitch darkness, hearing only the echoes of his screams. For a week that probably felt longer than a year. "That's... that's unspeakable!"
A nod. "It's only reserved for the crème de la cruel. The bottom of the barrel. And yes, that is exactly what we're facing if we're found guilty. But we won't be. Don't worry your pretty head about that, Toby. Or you, dear fair maiden Piffle." She giggled and 'beep'ed his nose. "At the trial, we are going to be found innocent. Because we are innocent. We're going to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth about that wacky-eyed muskrat sonofabitch, and why we knocked the mall over, and we are gonna walk away clean. Look at me. Do I seem concerned? The way I see it, it's been quite the eventful day for all of us, and I think we should take this opportunity to sleep the sleep of the just. Any takers?"
With that, he disengaged his wrenches and shrugged them off to clatter on the floor. He snuggled into the couch, enjoying his Piffle-pillow, and was snoring within seconds.
Junella shook her head. "That magnificent dumbass could fall asleep on the wing of a crashing airplane, I swear."
The rest of Zinc was still, but one footpaw raised up and curled all but the middle toe in her direction.
She laughed silently. She set George down and slipped gracefully to the floor. "He's right though. I'm tired, it's quiet here, and we don't know how long it'll last. Best make the most of it."
Toby considered. At first he thought he'd be too worried about The Pipe to possibly relax his mind and sleep. But then his body gave him a poke and reminded him of all the insane adventuring he'd been getting up to today. He thought back to waking up in the pink fur bed at Sawbuck's. Had that really been this morning? And wasn't it only late afternoon now? Impossible.
Piffle caught his attention with a short whistle.
She patted her other thigh. "Got a vacancy open."
Toby looked at Zinc, who did seem the epitome of comfortable. "You're sure it's not a bother?"
She beamed. "To have two handsome guys on either side of me? Have you gone silly?"
Toby chuckled, then got himself turned around and positioned. Mmm, that was nice. And the couch was pretty cozy too.
Toby's mind had been a-swirl with thoughts just a moment ago, but now his physical self was taking control. Gently shutting his eyes. Letting the tension in his muscles fade. Getting itself ready to take some time to recuperate.
***
Toby dreamt that he was lying in bed back at home and his mother was feeding him like a bird. Bent way over him while his mouth was open, regurgitating. Except it wasn't food she was giving him. It was an endless gush of pills.
An unfamiliar voice woke him up from this image, and that was a relief.
At least it was, until Toby registered what the computerized feminine voice was saying: "Attention, prisoners, attention. Your trial is set to begin in ten minutes. Please make all appropriate preparations at this time."
"WHAT!?" Toby yelped.
*****