Starfall: Chapter 15: What’s a Human?
‘Well, I guess this is better than what I feared, being put in a stereotypical interrogation room rather than thrown in a black van by the feds. Though, there is still time for them to arrive.’ Tapping his fingers on the arm of the chair, Mark adjusts the ‘donated’ Mid to large sized mammal clothes with his other arm.
‘Ill fitting as these are, at least they had the decency to have someone sew up the tail-hole in the pants.’
Glancing over to the large mirror on one wall before flashing a temporary smile. ‘I bet they’re in there talking about how to handle this.’
Grumbling, he reaches down to the shackles on his legs to scratch underneath them, only for the door to open. Bolting upright at the sound of the door opening followed by two pairs of padded feet. ‘Well, this wasn’t who I was expecting.’
Wolfard pulls out the chair across from Mark while placing the thick case folder on the table before sitting down, keeping his muzzle neutral and ears forward despite the noise of Delgato closing the door behind herself.
Eyeing her, Mark quirks a brow. ‘Well isn’t that interesting. So I guess this place isn’t ‘exactly’ like the movie. Delgato’s Male in the movie and female here, unless she’s his wife.’
Folding her ears down Delgato returns Mark’s gaze. ‘This alien looks like a prey animal, but that gaze is of a predator. He can stop staring at me at any time though.’
Shrugging, Mark looks back to Wolfard, who politely places his hand-paws on the table next to the folder.
“Before we begin, Mr Mercer, you do know you have the right to have a public defender present for this?”
Smiling politely again at the mirror, Mark shakes his head. “No, I’m fine without one. Unless you can get one up to speed on this situation without me waiting for another hour in chains. They’re starting to dig into my ankles.”
Twisting and looking over at Delgato, Wolfard nods to her. Slipping out of the room, Delgato returns a few minutes later.
“We can proceed, Bogo wants this kept quiet. Last thing it seems anyone wants now is more mammals knowing about you.”
Her tail tip twitches. ‘That’s the dumbest reason though! This guy’s an alien! The precinct I work at found alien life, we’re going to be famous! If only I wasn’t out in the Medowlands when he was arrested. Why do Wilde and Hopps have to get all the fame?’
Wolfard returns his attention back to Mark before opening the folder, picking up the top few photo’s. Rotating them, he places them on the table in front of Mark. “Just so we’re clear. You’re not going to deny assaulting these Mammals with an unknown weapon before robbing them of any cash they had on paw.”
Looking down, Mark casually examines each. ‘ More than I thought I stole from, I only tried to do it every few weeks and didn’t keep track of how many. Only when and where to keep one step ahead of the police.’ Looking back up to Wolfard, Mark nods.
“Well, think of it this way Officer Wolfard. It was either that, or cause a panic as I naively walk up to the nearest homeless shelter and ask for help. You and her.” Nodding to the door Delgato is guarding. “Had to have heard about what happened just outside that door when Judy removed my suit’s face-mask. Considering how long I’ve been in here.”
Delgato’s ear twitches.‘You bet I did, and he’s still freaky looking despite watching him from the other side of the mirror…’
Wolfard collects each photo and places them in a pile next to the folder. “Point taken.” Only to remove some more photos, these printed on plain office paper.
“Alright then, we can move on to the next part. Can you tell us what the stuff you were arrested with or was found at the scene is?” He slides four photos over to Mark.
Looking them over, Mark puts his finger on the first one. “Civilian combat suit. Sold to resource runners, made of nano-weave Kevlar. Stab resistant and bullet proof for hand-gun caliber, well, unless someone dumb enough to bring a desert eagle on top of being stupid enough to have a fire-arm on a spacecraft.”
Sliding it forward at Wolfard, he rests his arm on the table. “The trauma plates are zero gravity cast titanium laminated with nano-weave Kevlar. These though will protect you from Rifle rounds, theoretically up to a fifty cal sniper, though, you’ll most likely die from the blunt force trauma at that point.”
Tilting an ear quizzically, Wolfard picks up the piece of paper, placing it back into the file. “That’s pretty elaborate for ‘civilian’ grade item. Police trauma plates aren’t that strong.”
“Resource running is a ‘very’ dangerous profession Mr. Wolfard. Just like the old days of sailing the seven sea’s. Outside of Earth’s orbit it’s a lawless place and any other runner ship you come into contact with could just decide to take what’s on yours.” Crossing his arms, Mark stares down Wolfard.
Reaching over to tap one of the remaining three photo’s, Wolfard moves his ears fully forward while returning the gaze. “Well then, if it’s considered ‘dumb’ to bring a fire-arm onto one of these resource runner ships. How come you had one on your person before Mr. Wilde knocked it out of your hand-paw?”
Sliding the picture of the ‘firearm’ closer to Mark, he watches him pick it up. ‘While he’s a mammal I’ve never seen before, this space alien story seems to be a fabrication since he can’t keep his story straight. Shame, if he was, Luna damn, I’m sitting across from an alien!’
“They’re called hands, not hand-paws, and it’s not a gun.” Mark places the photo back on the table. ‘I should word this carefully, least I don’t get any of my stuff back even, if I still have the other plasma-stunner hidden back where I was sleeping before being ‘caught’ today.’
“It’s a taser that uses cold plasma to deliver shock rather than metal prongs and cable.”
Wolfard quirks an ear. “Cold Plasma? Wouldn’t plasma also punch through the hull like I suspect is the reason you don’t want to use firearms on one?”
He forces it back into place. ‘Now he’s pulling sci-fi tech out of his tail-hole. Why? Oh Luna, I hope he isn’t some escaped military project. I’d rather not ‘disappear’…’
“Yea. Just like Teflon before it and a host of other chemicals discovered during the process of making the nuclear bombs. The tech needed to make a Faster Than Light engine showed us that cold plasma is a reality rather than science fiction.”
‘I shouldn't mention the kinetic shield on the suit or I’ll never see it again.’
Crossing his arms, Wolfard cranes his head back to look at Delgato who just shrugs before looking back at Mark. “Alright, if you are from space, then why are you here? Why were you robbing mammals of cash rather than having your buddies on your ship pick you up?”
Mark sighs and deflates a little. “Well, to make a long story short, they don’t know I’m here. FTL slips in-between of dimensions, it’s how they can go faster than light. While traveling to a different dimension than the one you exited has been a staple of Science Fiction since FTL came about, seems it’s true. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be sitting here. Still, even if they could come and get me, I don’t think it would be a good idea if they did.”
Wolfard quirks an ear. “Oh?”
Putting his hands on the table, Mark intertwines his fingers. “I’ve been here about six month’s, I’ve learned a lot about your version of earth. Primarily, because of your various different species and their sizes, diet, and energy needs. You’ve treated your earth better than the one I came from. The one I was born on in Twenty Sixty-Nine. The one I left in the summer of Twenty One-Hundred.”
Waiting for that to sink in Mark watches Wolfard glance to the mirror with his head quirked to the side. Then to Delgato, who closes her mouth, which was hanging slightly open before looking back at Mark as she loses some of her professional composure.
“You say you’re from the future and a different dimension? That’s a pretty big claim Mr. Mercer.” Shuffling through the folder Wolfard pulls out a stapled stack of paper and looks through them.
“Though, it would explain why forensics couldn’t find your species in our database. Not even partial match like would happen if you were a little known sister species to a more wide-spread one.”
Mark smiles at the both of them. “I’m Human. The only one on this planet. The closest thing you’ll find that matches my species would be in your paleontology department of a museum, even then it would be a distant ancestor. Anyway, due to how we damaged our planet, and how we’ve been consuming resources. We used FTL to colonize and exploit extra solar planets to fill the gaps.”
Pausing a moment to glance at the mirror again, Mark leans back in the chair. Only to grumble at the shackles preventing him from getting comfortable. “The closest world’s four months of travel one way, it’s used as a farm world for my home country. The one I was heading to was eight months one way. On average a resource runner or a handful of them return to Earth every six months. Yet, here’s a world, an almost exact copy of my Earth, but in better shape with less exploitation than mine was in twenty-nineteen. Minutes away by FTL, and nearly a century behind the tech curve. Do I need to paint a bigger picture as to what would happen?”
Mark crosses his arms as Wolfard’s ears lower. ‘Yea I get the picture, and it ain’t pretty, a more advanced civilization meeting a less advanced one normally doesn’t turn out well for the latter.’
Delgato’s ears fold back with her tail twitching back and forth. “Is that a threat Mr Mercer the Human? It won’t get you released.”
‘Well shit, he seems to be more the ‘take me to your leader’ kind of alien rather than the ‘I come in peace’ kind. There goes me being famous and showing up my pride sisters. I’ll probably be asked why I didn’t kill him on the spot…’
Chuckling, Mark shakes his head. “No, it’s a prediction that I hope doesn’t come to pass. Anyway, I think we’re getting a bit off-topic here.”
Regaining his professionalism, Wolfard nods, then gestures to the remaining two photographs. “Yes we are. Mind telling me what these are.”
‘Would’ve been surprised if my knife was in these last few photos.’ Mark touches one of the two remaining photos with a finger. The one with the slotted battery packs.
“These, are batteries for the suit’s electronics.” He moves his finger to the last photo, which shows his tablet, rolled up, looking like an irregular cylinder.
“Is an electronics module. It runs the suit’s heads up display, handles the radio, so I can talk to the bridge as well as other crewmen. It also monitors my vitals and sends that info to the bridge, so they know if I got killed or not. Probably has less computational power than the smart-watch fad going on right now.”
Retracting his arm, Mark rests his hands in his lap, keeping his face neutral and focused on Wolfard. ‘Not that they would be able to tell if I’m lying, still, I’d rather not have them take the tablet. I have pictures on there I don’t want to lose. Not to mention, I’d rather not give them one of the most powerful computers on the planet right now.’
“Pretty big batteries for such a small piece of electronic equipment Mr. Mercer.” Wolfard picks up the pictures and places them back into the folder.
‘He’s not telling me something, his scent changed upon looking at the so called ‘ electronics module’, compared everything else he said. Still, that’s not enough evidence to go digging further…’
“The one thing you learn when you join up to be a resource runner Mr. Wolfard, is it isn’t like the space science fiction show. Basically keep it simple. Simple means easy to repair, and that means you have a better chance of living. So large Nickle-Metal batteries and low cost electronics that can be repaired by some schmuck with a soldering iron is your best bet.”
‘Yea I’m digging myself into a hole here, despite only telling half the truth. The K.I.S.S. rule applies to the ship, not the armaments. Staying ahead of the curve is vital in that department least another runner ship with newer tech decides to take what you have.’
Pawing through the folder, Wolfard brings out the newest looking pieces of paper other than the previous photos. “Fair enough. Now lets go through your assault on Ms. Wilde.”
-Behind the one way mirror.-
Bogo snorts once. “With no fur, tail, and those weird ears I can’t get a read on him, but my gut is telling me he’s leaving some things out of his explanation.”
Folding his arms across his chest, Nick slowly breathes in and out. Keeping his calm and collected mask on when he feels anything but. ‘Mom hasn’t completely regained feeling and movement yet. At least that’s what the doctors said, from my dad texting me a while ago.’
“Oh he is lying Chief. Has been since Wolfard took out the photo’s of what he had on him. The question is though, about what.”
Looking down at Wilde, Bogo ignores the high-pitched chatter of a chipmunk and a squirrel, both from forensics. Working away, one on a phone, the other on a computer sized just for them ever since the comment about a paleontology department.
“Care to enlighten me Officer Wilde?”
Gesturing to Mark, Nick gives Bogo a lopsided smirk. “This ‘Human’ may not have fur, a tail, or ears on the top of their head they can move, but, that’s not all you can look at to tell if a mammal is lying.”
Nick moves the chair he’s in closer to the table and mimics Mark’s earlier position. Hands on the table, fingers intertwined.
“You, yourself use this position when talking with me and Carrots, or other mammals. It’s a way of showing authority, or in this case, to show he’s not lying. It comes from the olden days as a way to show you’re empty pawed and not holding a weapon, yet the posture screams dominance to any other mammal.”
Sitting back into is normal relaxed position, Nick continues.
“Which would be fine if that’s all he did. Except, he also kept looking at us. Though to be honest, it’s no secret this room is here. Anyway, when he wasn’t looking at us, he was focused entirely on Wolfard instead of Delgato. Mammals who come up with a lie on the spot tend to keep an eye on the biggest threat in the immediate area. Mammals who premeditate a lie, tend to stay laser focused on the mammal they want to buy their lie. You and Wolfard are the ones in power here, and he knows it. The ones he has to convince.”
“So there’s something in the stuff he was found with that he wants to keep.” Bogo crosses his arms.
“Most likely the firearm of his.”
Nick shrugs. “Maybe. I’d bet on that or what he called ‘the electronics module’ for his suit. His body language changed on both.”
“Then I’ll personally go to transfer that gun of his from evidence to holding. I’d do the same with that unreasonably sharp knife of his, but there’s no law against him having that.”
Snorting once. ‘And pick up some headache medicine from my office on the way back.’ He steps towards the door.
“Chief Bogo? Before you go, can we talk?”
Stopping mid step, Bogo turns, looking at the squirrel as she uses her computer to increase the volume of her voice while downshifting the tone into a more audible range for the water buffalo.
“I’m listening.” He turns and looks down at her as Nick rotates an ear to keep track of the conversation as well.
“Um… I got into contact with a friend of mine that works at the grand station museum in Auroch city. They have a big paleontology department and I asked him about a species having the same traits as our suspect. Without giving anything away of course sir, instead I told him that we had arrested a suspect with some odd fossils and needed some information.” Looking nervously up at Bogo, who gestures with his hoof-hand for her to continue.
“While of course he told me the ‘fossils’ are fake, he said they sounded like a poor copy of Ouranopithecus fossils. A mammal that was the last of the extinct Hominoidea family. I think this Mammal may be telling the truth. At least on being the only one of his kind here.”
Turning to the chipmunk, he lowers the phone as Bogo stares at him. “I had His DNA sample sent to the Hobson interspecies fertility clinic. They have a much larger database of mammals than we do, so there’s a better chance of a match to see if he really is a member of an extinct family of mammals.”
Nodding, Bogo continues opening the door. “Sally, I expect a report on the differences between this ‘human’ and the Ouranopithecus fossils on record, on my desk first thing tomorrow morning. Devin, the moment that report comes in I want it on my desk as well.” Glancing out to the two in the interrogation room, then to Wilde and the others, before sighing.
“We can’t keep this a secret. I’m going to have to approach Mayor Lamdon and Governor Stallhoof with this information and if I don’t want to be laughed out of what little is left of my career. I’m going to need as much evidence as possible to show them.”
Nick opens his mouth, only to be cut off by a stare from Bogo. “Yes ‘Officer Wilde’ that means Officer Hopp’s and your reports need to be on my desk BEFORE I arrive tomorrow morning.” Nick closes his muzzle as Bogo closes the door.
Sighing, nick slumps in his seat. ‘So much for getting off early and checking in on Mom.’
-
One of Wolfards ear’s twitches while closing the case folder. “I have to say, for someone facing enough counts of Assault and Robbery to be put away for several years, you’ve been awfully cooperative.” He nods to Delgato who stands from leaning against the wall, walking over to behind Mark.
“Stand and hold your arms behind your back.” Producing a pair of medium-sized paw-cuffs from her belt.
Standing, Mark Complies, then winces as the cuffs pinch his wrists. “To be honest Wolfard, being an ‘alien’ here. I’m more or less hoping for a retroactive pardon from your leaders. To butcher an old sci-fi phrase as the best case scenario.”
Delgato then kneels to undo Mark’s leg shackles before standing.
With one hand-paw on his shoulder, and the other on the cuffed hands, Delgato ‘gently’ guides him to the door as Wolfard opens it. ‘Oh My Goddess! I’m actually touching him. I’m touching an alien…’ Feeling her tail twitching, she breathes in and out slowly to still it.
‘Calm down Delgato, you’re still on the clock, you can geek out ‘after’ your shift.’
Stepping out into the hallway and keeping to one side so Mark and Delgato have room, Wolfard holds the folder under his arm. “Then what do you view as the worst case scenario Mr. Mercer, other than spending almost an Octet and two years in prison?”
Guiding him out into the hall, Delgato coaxes him forward, in front of her and Wolfard. ‘I’m betting wolfard’s just as frustrated at having to be professional here… Fangmyer would too if she wasn’t out today. They’re both sci-fi nerds like I am.’
Rolling his shoulders, Mark complies with Delgato’s guidance. “Being taken to some government black site, then vivisected.”
Wolfard and Delgato wince at the same time.
Turning the corner back to the demarcation point between the office part of the building and the holding cells, The Rhino gawks a little at Mark, but otherwise opens the gate for the three of them to cells.
“I can see why you don’t rate prison time high on the list of bad outcomes Mr. Mercer.” Out of the view of his Rhino colleague, Wolfard lowers his ears.
Lowering her tail a bit at his answer, Delgato coaxes Mark further down the corridor. Past some holding cells with mammals in them, others empty till they get near the end of the hall.
“I don’t think the government would be that stupid, I mean, you may not think your own kind can find you, But what if they do? I mean, they wouldn’t want to start a war, would they? Especially with how advanced you claim your kind is.”
Chuckling a bit, Mark shakes his head as Wolfard uses his radio to call the Rhino they passed to open the holding cell door from his console.
Raising an eyebrow, Mark turns just enough to look at Delgato. “Alright now I’m convinced I’m in Twenty-Nineteen. Only a down right imbecile would say that with a straight face when talking about their government back home after what happened during the early to mid Twentieth Century.”
Folding her ears back slightly, Delgato’s tail tip twitches back and forth a few times. “Careful Mr. Mercer, insulting an officer can be considered incitement.” Adding a bit of a growl to her voice to get the point across as the cell door opens. Using her grip on his shoulder and cuff’s, Delgato nudges Mark into the cell, then lets go and backs up.
“Just stating the obvious Officer Delgato. The people here are like the population of my country back home at the same time. Naive about their role they were supposed to play in the constitutional republic handed to them.” Speaking into the radio again, Wolfard has the cell door shut as soon as Mark’s inside and Delgato’s out of the way.
“Well, I guess you missed a few things when you were learning about this place Mr. Mercer. We’re a Democracy, not a Repubic. Anyway, I’m not here to talk politics. Now turn around and put your hand-paws through the slot.” Taking the handcuff keys out of her pocket, she waits for Mark to comply, then removes his handcuffs.
Rubbing his wrists, Mark turns around and shakes his head. “Fair enough, just don’t take it too badly later when proven otherwise.”
Delgato rolls her eyes before catching herself. ‘Sigh, I meet an honest to goddess alien, and he’s a jerk.’ Looking to Wolfard. “Lets go tell the chief he’s safely locked up.”
Lowering his ear’s Wolfard nods once. “Yea, though if you don’t mind, we can take the long way? The longer we’re here the less time I need to spend in that joke-mobile getting yelled at by idiots who don’t want tickets.”
Laughing out loud, Delgato heads back down the corridor with Wolfard following her. “One size fits all my tail! It pinches your tail something fierce for us larger mammals on top of being an exercise of yoga to get in and out of.”
Watching them leave, Mark plops down on the thinly padded bed in the cell. Jutting out of the wall across opposite of the sink and toilet combination. Putting his hands behind his head while leaning back he exhales. ‘Well, the best case scenario I’m only here for a day or two before I’m released. Chances of that are slim to none though if I’m being honest with myself. What’s most likely to happen is I’ll be taken off their hands by whomever are their black op’s people are. I’m sure I’ve appeared on their radar.’
“Oh he ugly!”
Mark’s eye twitches at the harsh and guttural, but slightly high-pitched tone of voice.
“Yea, that a face only a mother could love.”
‘So much for being here peacefully.’ Grumbling as he closes his eyes.
“No muzzle, only fur on top of head and eyes. Like mole rat.” Cackling laughter echos through the corridor and other cells.
Sighing he opens his eyes and ever so slightly turns to look in that direction using his peripheral vision. ‘They’re right across from me too. Just fucking great. On top of that, they appear to be hyena gang-banger’s. Though I can’t tell if they’re male or female… Wait, isn’t the Hyena social dynamic reversed?’
“Dammit who set them off?! I was sleeping! Not every fucking mammal in this god-damn city is nocturnal or diurnal!” A high-pitched, yet masculine and accented voice echos in from a couple cells down the hall.
“That traitor and the feline Bitch brought in a weird ass mammal just a moment ago Tube Rat!” A husky voice from the cell right behind him replies.
Sitting back up, Mark puts his hands on his knees. ‘Okay, so the one behind me is a wolf. He said tube-rat, so is the other one a ferret?’
“Do Mole Rat get that big?”
Turning his head, Mark looks over to the cell across from his. ‘Thick fur, though we are getting onto the colder months. I do recognize the dye and shaved gang symbols they have. Hyena only gang. That means… Yea, both of them are female.
“No, Mole Rat not grow that big. He has a gaze of predator too, Mole Rat not predator.” The thick furred Hyena wearing shorts and a tank top replies to their identically clothed cell-mate.
The other one, who looks identical to the one speaking is covering her mouth. Trying to not laugh, and utterly failing. This causes her gang sister to giggle.
“That’s a ferret you dumb Dog! I’m a Stoat! Completely different mammal!” The heavily accented voice echos through the corridor.
‘His accent is familiar, I’ve heard it before. Just don’t remember where it’s from.’ Sighing, Mark goes back to staring at the wall opposite his bunk. “I’m a Human. Though to be fair, there are some of us so ugly even I could be convinced they may be related to mole-rats.”
“What who you’re calling a Dog! You miserable Tube-Rat!” Mark quirks a brow as he hears the canine in the cell behind him move closer.
“Move closer to the bars hue-man, I want a better look at you.”
“Say that again you dumb moon howling, tail chasing mutt and I’ll make you regret ever thinking it was a good idea to heckle me after the damn comedy routine on my way to my van, without an off duty cop in the parking lot.”
Standing and stretching, Mark glances to the wall separating his and the wolf’s cell, then to the bars. “And how are you going to see me? Gonna stick your head through the bars?”
As an answer, a tan fur covered, four fingered hand with sharp claws at the end of them just barely makes it around the cinder block wall separating the two cells.
“That’s exactly what I’m going to do. I can’t slip my torso all the way between the bars but I can either fit my arm or my head because this cell is for mammal’s just a bit larger than I am.”
The voice down the hall laughs. “What the Moon howler means to say is he’s a runt!”
“You weren’t funny at the club and you’re not funny now, so shut up tube-rat!” He growls back.
Calming themselves down, the Hyena’s push themselves against the bars simultaneously. “Yea come closer, Wanna smell you.” One of them sticks her head out of their cell.
“Yup. What Hue-man smell like? All can smell is oder of other mammals… And Sis.” The other one joins her sister in sticking her head through the bars tongue out with a grin on their muzzles.
‘Okay, so both hyenas are female, makes sense.’ “That’s not creepy at all.” Mark Mutters, then stands, just outside the wolf’s reach.
“This is as close as I’m getting.” Watching the hand retreat. “Mainly for your safety.” Followed by just enough of the wolf’s head to indicate that he’s possibly about his size.
“It’s close enough… Damn, they’re right. You look like a mole-rat. Stink worse than one though.” The wolf pulls his head back into his cell.
“Ugh smell like sis after date!” One of the Hyena sister’s cackle causing the other one to turn on her.
“DO NOT. I not smell that bad!” She tackles her sister to the floor, Yapping and biting at her.
“Well, I’m not getting back to sleep. Remind me to thank you properly ‘hue-man’ once get out of here.” As the Stoat yells over the Hyena’s commotion, Mark sits back down onto the thin mattress.
“Showers were a luxury while I was living on the street, so of course I stink, I haven’t had one since late summer. Anyway, sleep is going to be the least of your worries If the worst case for me happens. None of you will see the next morning if it does.” Laying down, he sighs. ‘Thin ‘and’ lumpy. Might as well have not put one in here at all.’
The hyena sisters stop fighting, looking over at Mark with worry. At the same time, he can hear the wolf in the neighboring cell pull his head through the bars again.
-
The next morning.
-
“What is a ‘Hue-man Chief Bogo?” A Ram looks up from the plastic folder in front of him, sitting next to a much taller Stag with an eight point rack who’s flipping through his copy. A stern look over his muzzle.
“Mayor Lamdon, This is the mammal that has been a thorn in your and Stallhoof’s flanks over your crime reform agenda, the cash mugger. It’s also pronounced Human, not Hue-man.” Bogo sits as confidently as he can at the other end of the table from his two superiors.
Lambdon glares back at Bogo. “Chief Bogo, keep in mind if this is a stunt to keep your job, you can turn in your badge right now.”
‘I wonder if this is something that fox cooked up, I wonder if we could get the Skulk to take care of him. To smart for his own good.’
Placing his hoof-hands on the table, Bogo sighs. “I have no clue what it is with Officer Hopps and Officer Wilde, but, this isn’t a stunt, this is the real deal. I have multiple officers besides them to attest at the legitimacy of this, including myself as I was there when his ‘suit’ was opened.”
Putting down his folder, Stallhoof lays his hoof-hands on top of it, intertwining his hoof-fingers. “Well the evidence from your forensic’s department is pretty compelling to me, not something that would be easy to fake.” ‘Though not impossible, still more complicated than having some mammal fudge a few things so a trail or two isn’t found.’
“Those full body photo’s compared to the recently dug up fossils for example. Not to mention the genetic evidence presented, still, it’s a bit of big thing to swallow he’s from another dimension on top of that.”
Sighing, Bogo closes his copy. “Not that we’re equipped to determine if he is or not, despite if that is even possible to do, I see no indication he’s lying on that part.” Standing, Bogo looks at the two of them.
“Now we’ve reviewed his case file, You should meet him before coming to a decision on what we should do.”
Pushing his chair in, Bogo watches Stallhoof and Lambdon stand. ‘If he was any other mammal, it would be an open and shut case, yet, his ‘prediction’ has been weighing on my mind. We’ve already had one slight international headache more than once with that Stoat in holding. An actual alien species that has mastered FTL while we’ve only had a fifty percent success rate? I don’t want to go down in history as the mammal who caused an interdimensional war over a few thousand Zbucks.’
“That’s a good idea Chief Bogo.” Lamdon smiles. “While I still have my doubts if this whole thing is true, it would be interesting to see a mammal that is neither predator, nor prey. The pictures you have of him show a lack of any kind of natural weapons or defense adaptations for either category.”
Walking over to open the conference room door, Bogo looks back, watching Stallhoof pick up his copy of the file, then place it in his attaché case. Standing, he follows Lamdon to the exit. “I assume these are ours to keep if we want Chief Bogo?”
Bogo clamps down on the urge to have his ear twitch from Stallhoof’s tone of voice, implying there is no other answer than ‘yes’ to his question. Nodding, Bogo moves to the hall outside while still holding the door open for his superiors.
Stallhoof glances down the hallway, towards the elevator. “Then lead the way Chief Bogo. I for one would like to see this alien in the fur, so to speak.”
Pushing himself to stand straighter, Bogo lets go of the door once they’re both out. “This way then Gentle-mammal’s”
- A few minutes earlier, holding cells. -
‘Fifty-one… Fifty-two…’ Shirtless, Mark with one hand flat on the floor does one armed push-ups as his other’s folded behind his back. A slight sheen of sweat coating his bare back and brow.
‘Fifty-three… Fifty-four…’
The wolf in the cell next to his raps his knuckles on the cell door bars. “Whatever your doing Mr. Human, can you please stop it? You already had a bad enough scent throughout the night, now it’s even worse. At this rate, all I’m going to taste is it rather than whatever breakfast they’ll serve us.”
‘Fifty-seven… Fifty-eight…’
Not wavering in his rhythm, Mark glances towards his cell door. “Just doing my normal morning exercises. Considering I’m still here and you’re all still alive, looks like we lucked out. In that light, bad tasting food shouldn’t bother you.”
‘Sixty-two… Sixty-three…’
One of the Hyena’s sticks her muzzle through the bars. “Don’t mind it, he smell good!”
‘Sixty-six… Sixty-seven…’
“He look good! No fur but all muscle.” The other Hyena pokes hers out shortly after with a grin on it.
‘Seventy-one… Seventy-two…’
Curious as to why, the Wolf in the neighboring cell sticks his head out with his ear tips barely visible. “Why would that cause you to smell so bad Mr. Human?”
‘Seventy-five…’ “Because Humans sweat throughout their entire body instead of panting to cool down. Combine that with no shower and well…”
‘Seventy-six…’
“It also doesn’t help I’ve been in gyms with better ventilation than this place.”
‘Seventy-seven…’
“I’m surprised all of you can stand it in here. Humans don’t have a good sense of smell compared to, well, most other species, and it stinks to me.”
‘Seventy-eight…’
“It’s a holding center, it’s not supposed to be comfortable Mr. Mercer.” Bogo Bellows out a moment before the sound of the gate into the holding area echos down the corridor.
‘Well, looks like I’m not getting the full one hundred push-ups in this morning.’ Standing up, Mark stretches and rotates his left arm a bit.
“Still could use a few more vents Chief Bogo.” Picking up his shirt, Mark wipes the sweat off his face while walking up to the bars to his cell.
Looking between the water buffalo, the Stag, and the Ram as they approach his cell, Mark smiles. “So, I expected your version of the Fed’s, not the governor of Camalfornia and the mayor of Zootopia.”
Lambdon scrunches his muzzle. “It’s definitely not a pleasure to meet you.” Then covers his nose with a hoof-hand.
Using the shirt to wipe his body dry, Mark chuckles. “Careful, if I could vote here, that could’ve cost you mine. If, say I wanted to vote for you.” Turning for a moment to throw the shirt onto the bed, he then leans against the bars while crossing his arms.
“I take it they both wanted to see me in person?”
“It’s not every day an alien, from a different dimension and the future shows up on our doorstep.” Bogo Snorts.
Mark shrugs, looking to Lambdon, who’s taken a few steps back, only to stop when the Hyena’s stick their heads out of their cell. Then to Stallhoof, who’s just looking Mark over.
“Fair point. Though, if you were planning on showing me to them Chief Bogo, it might’ve been a good idea to have me take a shower first. I don’t think the mayor is appreciating my lack of hygiene.”
Bogo opens his mouth, but shuts it the moment Stallhoof speaks up. “Do all Humans look like you Mr. Mercer?”
“Not really Mr Stallhoof. I mean, I’m pretty average for what’s considered a Caucasian, though I’m a bit fitter than most due to my profession.”
Stallhoof flicks an ear and stares Mark down as Lambdon puts down the attaché case before taking out a pad of paper and a pen from his suit pockets. “What’s a Caucasian?”
Mark returns the gaze with a neutral face. “Synonymous with White, which I am, it also means those who can trace their ancestry to people who lived the caucus mountain area of Eastern Europe. If you want my exact genetic ancestry, I’m mostly Anglo-saxin, with a touch of both Irish and German thrown in.”
‘Sigh, that’s right. Gonna miss Saint Patrick’s day, and most likely have already missed October-Fest. Kansas City always throws good parties for both.’
“So, is that a subspecies or sister species of Human then?” Stallhoof raises an ear, flicking it, as Lambdon jots some stuff down on a pad of paper while trying to keep the perfect distance between Mark and the Hyena’s.
Bogo only stands there, staring at them all, his face a mask of indifference.
Nervously chuckling out of habit, Mark shakes his head. “Careful, the former’s considered derogatory, even if you can map out all the genetic differences showing that they are ‘on their way’ there, but not ‘Yet’. As for the latter, we can still all interbreed so that doesn’t apply.”
Stallhoof breaks eye contact with Mark. “Then I apologize. We are treading new trails, so to speak. Mistakes will be made.” ‘I hope Lambdon is taking notes. Maybe we can find out more about this aspect of these Humans.’
Looking up at Mark, Lambdon lowers the pad of paper. “So what does this job of ‘resource runner’ entail to have armaments you were in possession of?”
Tapping his fingers against the bars. “Well…” ‘Yea, that’s a good sign I’m probably not getting most of my stuff back.’
“If Chief Bogo told you what I said in the interrogation room, then you would understand the ‘why’ I had them, as for what the job entails. For the mining planet we were headed for, it was about eight months of combat drills, training, waiting and hoping nothing will happen while preparing for the worst in case anything does, and it does happen.”
Standing back up, Mark stares down the Ram. “Once at the colony world, you were given a local day to decompress. Then you use both the equipment on the ship and at the mining facility’s to unload any cargo for the colony, then load the same equipment with ores, minerals and what-not to fill the ship to capacity. Depending on what it is, loading can take anywhere from a local week to a month. Those who aren’t loading the ship, are tasked with security planet-side.”
Scribbling this down on his pad of paper, Lamdon glances over to Stallhoof, who crosses his arms before joining in the conversation again.
“What would you need security for on the colony world? If this is your colony, shouldn’t it already be secure?”
Mark chuckles and shakes his head. “About Seventy-five to Eighty percent of first run ‘recruits’ Do, or have one of the following happen to them; They’re killed during a raid to or from a colony world. They’re killed by local wildlife because many decent sized predators on these worlds see us as an easy kill. Or they desert their contract on the colony world because the stress on the way there broke them. Security’s duty is to keep said predators away from the facility, and deal with deserter’s who’ve gone ‘native’ so to speak, they occasionally try to steal food or weapons from the compound.”
Stallhoof glances back to Lamdon, then to Mark. “Once the ship is full I take it, it’s another eight months of the same stress on the way back as it was on the way there?”
Mark nods. “Yup, and those first timers who don’t do the following either take their quarter of a million dollars and run once we’re back at earth, or sign up for that ship’s next tour after a month of shore leave. The money keeps on getting bigger the more runs you complete no matter the company, but the amount of people willing to do it drastically shrinks.”
Laying his ears back, Stallhoof stares down Mark. “I get the impression you’re not some mammal who was on their first run, were you?”
‘Alien species or not, his eyes are of a predator despite lacking all the common features. Hmmm….’
Staring back, Mark grins proudly. “Nope. I completed Three resource runs. For the ship I signed up for on the first three runs I earned about Thirty or so Million dollars, and if I completed the run that made me end up here. I would’ve earned another Sixty-Five million because I opted out of being on the bridge crew after my third run.”
Leaning forward again, mark lays his forearms against the bars. ‘The Mayor's ear twitched at the amount of money I was earning, same with Bogo’s. Something’s not right about the Mayor and Governor outside the typical sleaziness.’
“What did you need all that money for, Mr. Mercer?” Lambdon looks up at Mark after writing down his thoughts.
“I was disowned of my family farm and ranch when I was sixteen. Then kicked out at eighteen. My goal all along was to earn enough to buy it out from under my siblings, the land and private company’s valued at around Sixty million. The debt my family holds is another couple million on top of that. Everything else is to allow me to comfortably live out the rest of my life as well as everyone else there, including said siblings.”
Sighing loudly, mark runs a hand through his hair, looks at the grime it’s covered in, before wiping it off on his pants. ‘I really need a shower…’
“Fat lot that does me here, even if I had all of that money I doubt you’d value American dollars.”
Lambdon chuckles. “I doubt your siblings would’ve taken any of the left over money after you did that.”
“Maybe. They would’ve come around eventually though. Not that I would’ve kicked them out either.” Mark looks between the three. “So are we going to continue talking or--”
“Or are we going to have you released Mr Mercer?” Speaking up, Stallhoof steps a bit closer to the bars.
“It all depends on how much of a danger you pose to the general population, after all, you did mug several mammals.” Handing his attaché case to Lambdon, Stallhoof lowers himself to Mark’s eye level.
“To me it sounds like the mammals that kind of work attracted would be the less reputable, the near-do-wells. On top of that, you stated so few make it past their first run, and you completed three. You do not give me the impression you left that to luck, did you Mr. Mercer?”
He smiles at Mark. ‘The perfect poster child for my ‘reforms’, and to keep my position without cheating, even if he was born into that class.’
Mark just returns the smile with a neutral look.“Of course I made sure the odds were in my favor. As for my character, I grew up in a law-abiding Christian family with strong morals of right and wrong. It was hard for me to do what I did, but I was faced with that, starvation, or trying to make it out in the wild with whatever non-sentient game I could find. If I could’ve just walked up to a homeless shelter or here and ask for help without causing a panic, I would’ve.”
Glancing at Bogo, who sighs and heads back in the direction of the guard-post, Stallhoof looks back at Mark.
“So what did you do to make the odds be in your favor Mr. Mercer?”
Momentarily watching Bogo leave, Mark stands back up. ‘If he’s going to have my cell opened it would be a bad idea for me to be leaning on the door.’
“Well, as I said I was kicked out when I was Eighteen. These resource runs started not long after I was born, after the first colony attempt failed in the Twenty Seventies. Even by that time they nailed down the minimal rules for who could join up. I met them all except that I was too young, Twenty-six was the minimum age.”
Standing there, Mark counts off his fingers. “First was to get a stable form of employment till then. The best place to do that for someone fresh out of school, and with nothing to his name was the mid-west’s mega city, Kansas City. So I went by foot, hitch-hiked, or just jumped onto a train when needed to get there from Texas.”
Counting off his second finger. “So, once there, I leveraged my farm knowledge in getting a ‘position’. Not going to go into what it was because, well, that would take more explaining than I take you have patience for right now?”
Stallhoof nods and motions for Mark to continue.
“Anyway, with income and the needed bits for life settled. I focused my attention on the next part.”
Onto the third finger. “Every spare moment outside of working I spent body building, strength building and putting myself into top shape. Those who tended to make it multiple runs were the fit and healthy.”
Touching his forth finger. “After I went from building to maintaining I searched out various ‘actual’ martial arts teachers. Not those fly by night ‘tie-kwan-do’ places suburban family's take their kids, so they can brag to their neighbors. The actual deal. Yes the companies and the ships provide training, but it’s the bare minimum sometimes, even if they hire a master martial artist. I needed more than that if I was going to live long enough to buy everything back.”
Standing back up, Stallhoof crosses his arms. “Why martial arts and not other forms of training? I’m sure you would’ve had an easier time getting stuff like commando training from a veteran?”
Chuckling and shaking his head, Mark glances at Lambdon as he scribbles more on the notepad. “Again being in space isn’t like scifi. With how thin the hulls are on the ships, out of necessity, ANY kind of projectile weaponry. Laser or kinetic is ONE missed shot away from putting you, and everyone else in that bulkhead into hard a vacuum. Even pirates don’t use fire-arms for that exact reason.”
Lambdon looks up. “I can understand that. They’d want to live as much as you do.”
Laughing out loud once, Mark points to Lambdon. “Finally one of you who understands! No one else I’ve talked to gets it. They think it’s like those dead scifi shows.”
Stallhoof coughs politely into a hoof hand to grab their attention. “What about on the colony world? In case you got assigned security duty?”
“I was getting to that Governor Stallhoof.” Touching his thumb, Mark continues.
“I also signed up for firearms courses, and some commando training via the local militia in between completing one martial art’s course and another. So I’d know how to act and behave, instead of acting dumb and walking around pointing my gun at everything that moves.”
Lowering his arm, he straightens himself up. “While I didn’t have the time to get to master level in any of what I learned, my plan was to touch up the skills while on the job so to speak. What I did complete, put me in the top third of candidates after eight years, and I was of age to apply. So if I’m being honest, I’m probably better trained than the officers here.”
Frowning, Lambdon goes back to writing on his notepad while Stallhoof just stands there.
“In other words, you could be considered military trained. We have laws for martial artists here in Camalfornia, I think you can understand why.”
Mark keeps his face neutral. ‘Yea, considering just about every mammal here has natural weaponry that can be lethal if properly used. On top of the political ideology I think Stallhoof is.’
“What would these laws be? I already know I’m not getting my Plasma-Stunner back, even though it’s a taser and not a firearm making it technically legal.”
Looking down at Mark, Stallhoof smiles. “Its size and shape’s still close enough to count with the ban.” ‘That bit of fur above one of his eyes twitched, still I’d rather have that piece of technology in my hoof-hands than his. Maybe the voltage can be pumped up to lethal levels.’
“Anyway, for the martial arts skills, you’ll have to get a permit, have your name and DNA on a database, then an evaluation of your abilities by law-enforcement.”
He pauses as the sound of both Chief Bogo’s hoof steps approach and the sight of the cell door opening.
“Thankfully, we can do all of this right here and now. Not to mention it will give us time to call a press conference.”
Bogo sighs, then hands Mark an unmarked large plastic bag. “Just what we need, those vultures to show up here again.”
Taking it, Mark glances inside. ‘The suit, though the trauma plates have been removed and not put back in…’ Shifting the contents a bit. ‘Oh yes! There’s the tablet, oh, and they also gave me my knife back as well as the batteries.’
Stallhoof glances over to Bogo. “Did you honestly think we would keep such a thing as this under wraps Chief Bogo? Not only do the public deserve to know we’re not alone in the universe, it will also make sure the Fed’s won’t snatch him up.”
‘With him and Hopps indebted to me I may be able to speed things up.’
Bogo snorts. “So would keeping quiet about him.”
Mark looks up at both Stallhoof and Bogo. “That’s going to make me a celebrity you know?”
Chuckling, Lambdon pockets his pencil and pad of paper. “That’s the point Mr. Mercer. You’ll be on everyone attention they’d more or less not be able to secretly grab you in the middle of the night. Also, by the time your fame dies down, they’d already have gotten all the information they need as the press and the public will want it out of you first through less damaging means.”
Mark deadpans a little. “So instead of getting interrogated and vivisected, I verbally get that from the media.”
Stallhoof chuckles. “At least he knows what he’s in for.” Turning his attention to Bogo. “We’re going to need to evaluate him for a martial arts permit before I sign off on his pardon and release.”
Stepping out of the cell, Mark looks between the three of them. “Can I have a shower first?”
Taking a hasty step back down the hall, away from Mark and the Hyena’s, Lambdon covers his nose. “I think that’s more important of the two tasks we need to do.” Only to have to move out of the way as Bogo steps forward with a sigh.
“Fine, he can use the Men’s room showers, follow me.” Turning he heads back down the corridor. Stallhoof picks up his attaché from the floor and follows.
Letting Bogo pass-by, Lambdon quickly moves to keep pace just behind Stallhoof’s hooves, while Mark just slings the bag across his bare back and makes up the rear of the precession.
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