Starfall: Chapter 7: Zootopia Bound.
‘I’ve missed the sounds of a summer night in the country to be honest, much better than what you hear in a city.’ Looking around, Mark smiles lightly as he walks along the ditch of Turnip Drive. Heading north to the intersection with Fairground Drive.
‘Still, it’s a bit strange with only hearing insects making noise. The nocturnal animal noises are missing.’ Shifting his backpack a bit, he rolls his shoulders, easing the slight ache developing from its weight.
‘Still makes the night nice though.’
Stopping at the intersection of Turnip Drive and Fairground Drive, Mark raises his hand in an L shape and holds up to the moon and counts finger lengths to the horizon. ‘Well if the hours of the day are the same here as back home, then I’ve just took three to four hours to walk here.’
Looking at the compass, mark heads west on Fairground Drive.
Taking out the map and the flashlight for a second. ‘I need to be on the North side of the street.’ Crossing it, Mark the map and compass away, continuing down the road.
The road the lights off in the distance bring him to a stop. ‘Must be the place.’ Shutting off the Zootopia made flashlight and slowing his pace, Mark creeps along the various side streets. Ignoring the mailboxes he passes along the way.
Climbing a hill near the rail-yard, he lowers himself to the ground near the crest.
‘Point in my favor I guess, I was expecting a slightly smaller rail yard than this. Though it kinda does make sense if Bunny-Burrow is Zootopia’s primary food source. Easier and cheaper to ship the two hundred miles rather than distance between here and whatever they call Kansas.’ Slipping off his backpack, Mark gets down on his belly and crawls higher up the hill.
Getting out the survival box, he opens it and fishes out a tiny pair of binoculars.
Unfolding them, he removes the protective covers off the lenses. ‘Hmm. Guess that is to be expected, night shifts are less staffed than day shifts in workers, but if this place is like back home it will have more guards at night to compensate.’ Visually following the one in view, some kind of canine, he can’t tell what species other than it doesn’t look domesticated. Mark makes a mental note of the time, he or she, Mark can’t tell from here, passes the Fairground’s drive entrance to the yard.
Noting the guard gestures and speaks at someone in the guard house.
‘So, two guards so far…’ Watching the clock he watches the canine walk all the way to one corner, look down the fence line while shining flashlight in that direction. Shrugging with a tail flick while lowering their ears, the canine heads back to the guard house.
Movement catches Mark’s attention from the other direction, looking over he sees a ferret, or a stoat or some other smaller species that looks like a long tube, walking from the opposite direction wearing a similar guard uniform.
‘Make that three guards…’ Letting out a sigh, mark adjusts the binoculars to their highest magnification. ‘Yea lets try a different area, I think I see administration buildings and a shipping dock. What I need is a container already ready to be shipped to Zootopia.’
Putting the binoculars away and backing himself back down the hill, Mark dons the backpack. Continuing down Fairgrounds Drive till he’s at least about fifteen meters from the western fence.
Following it, while trying to keep out of sight he stops behind a tree, then pulls out the binoculars again.
‘Bingo, the container yard. Just need to be careful here and wait to see if the guards patrol the whole yard.’ Lowering his backpack, he waits, then smiles.
‘Yup, they do the whole yard.’ The canine looking guard rounds the corner, then walks down the western fence.
Only to stop near a light pole, their physical features becoming visible. ‘Coyote, they’re a coyote. Could be worse, other species of wolf and wolf like canines have better sense of smell. Still, I would’ve rather had the stoat looking one.’
Watching curiously, Mark sees the Coyote open their uniform a bit. ‘A female Coyote, either that or the guy likes wearing bra’s.’ She then reaches into her uniform, in between the two cups and pulls out a small foil packet with a smile on her muzzle.
‘What’s she doing?… Oh.’ Out of the packet comes a cigarette, a lighter’s pulled form one of her pockets, and she begins to smoke it rather than head down the rest of the way to the northern fence.
Her ear’s and tail indicate contentment.
‘Well, her laziness is my gain I guess.’ Pocketing the binoculars, Mark hefts the backpack up, then as silently as he can, makes his way several yards farther down the western fence.
Well out of sight and in a darkened area between light-posts lining the property. Silently as he can, Mark walks up to the fence.
Lightly testing it with his hand he smiles. ‘Not electrified.’ looking up. ‘No razor wire.’ Looking back over in the direction of the guard, Mark can just make out the Coyote’s figure as she continues to smoke. ‘She won’t see me at this distance.’
Grabbing the chain link, he hefts himself up. Over, then down the other side within a couple of minutes.
Slipping his backpack off into one hand Mark presses himself against the side of a nearby stack of shipping containers. Taking out a mirror on a small telescopic poll, he peers through the fence back in the direction of the Coyote. ‘Of course, dammit, forgot about their sense of hearing.’
She’s standing there with the cigarette in her mouth looking down the fence line in his direction, ears forward and twitching. The moment she spits the cigarette out, Mark pulls back the mirror. As silently as he can, Mark makes his way around to the front of the shipping container.
Slipping in between it and the row in front of it is easy, there’s just enough space to open them so someone can inspect the insides.
‘Nothing to see here, miss coyote, just go on about your unauthorized smoke break.’ Over the noise of the yard further in, Mark hears her footfalls, and a click of a flashlight.
Slowly and quietly he slides himself into blind spot from the coyote’s point of view. Dead center of the front of the container. ‘Good, as long as you just shine that flashlight down the columns and nothing more you’ll not see me.’
The Coyote shines the light down the column to his right, a moment later she shines it down the column to his left. ‘Just move on, please.’
She focuses a bit longer on the left side, Longer than Mark feels comfortable with. Watching the beam move back and forth is making him nervous.
He swallows once and tenses up as he hears her rip a piece of Velcro apart. “Guardhouse, we may have a trespasser, I heard someone climb the fence and I’m picking up an acrid scent here. I wanna say it’s from a skunk, but the footprints are weird and larger than a skunk’s.” Wincing, The message makes her high-pitched voice less comical than it should be.
Slowly lifting his backpack, Mark inches right as he lifts his backpack off the ground.
Shouldering it, Mark glances back and forth down the column opposite the one Coyote is lighting up. “What’s your location Tanna?” With no one in the space between column’s that’s wide enough to allow large forklifts to move the container’s. He tip-toes his way down the row’s slowly.
“Column A twelve, Row sixte…” Mark ducks into another space between containers a few more rows down and out of earshot from Tanna.
‘Great, they’ll be looking for someone. Completely forgot about boot prints and of course they’d smell someone who hasn’t taken a shower in over a day, and that was before all the sweating I’ve done up to this point.’ Reaching into one of the utility pockets, Mark pulls out the small mirror again.
Extending it, he just barely moves the mirror past the corner of the container. Looking one way, then adjusting it to look the other way. ‘Coast is still clear, but for how long?’ Collapsing it, he holds and covers the mirror with his hand, before moving another few rows down, tip toeing all the way again.
‘Thank god that all of these containers aren’t the same length.’ Ducking in between another two containers upon hearing the sound of an electric forklift echo down the column he’s in.
Pressing himself against the door of one of the containers, he keeps his breath shallow as the piece of heavy equipment rolls by.
‘A wolverine’s driving the vehicle? HA.’ Having to cover his mouth at the comical sight of the ‘extensions’ attached to the controls needed for the mammal to drive.
The wolverine stops the forklift close to where he is, then backs it up a few feet. The typical alarm blaring as the vehicle does so. Following that, the Wolverine makes a sharp turn to face the top container on the top row across from where Mark’s hiding.
Only for their radio to come to life, causing the Wolverine to park it, so they can grab the radio.
“This is a notice to all employees, keep an eye out for any mammal who looks unfamiliar. We have a trespasser of unknown species and don’t know where they are. If you see them, call me on channel three.” There’s a short pause.
“Mason, where’s that container of perishables I sent you out for?” Putting away the mirror, Mark slides a bit closer to the edge of the row.
“Just got the forks under it the moment you called boss. Be up there in a few minutes if this thing’s LNG engine doesn’t fail like yesterday.” Edging a bit closer, Mark can just make out the work order clip boarded to the frame in front of Mason.
‘They’re filling a train bound for Zootopia? Shit, I got my work cut out for me to try to get on it in time… Wait I have an idea, thank you, Mason.’
“I told you at the start of your shift that the maintenance mammals fixed that this afternoon. Look if it happens again, we won’t penalize you for however long it takes to get the load here. Especially if I have to come over with the spare loader to help you out.” Crouching down below the height of the machine, Mark moves up to the rear of the Forklift. ‘An old LNG model before they outlawed them. I know these things are temperamental in gas flow, so let’s make it act up.’
Slowly, Mark draws his combat knife with one hand, and with the other he reaches up to slowly twist the knob controlling the flow of LNG, altering it from fully open to about half open. ‘Restrict the flow, just a bit. Then the engine will run lean once he steps on the gas.’ Grabbing the hookup cable with one hand, he flips the knife around and uses the butt of the handle to crush the metal coiled around the rubber hose, cutting into it.
‘There we go, I can smell the sulfur-dioxide they put in so people can tell there’s a gas leak. This should ensure it will stall, then as Mason here wonders what’s going on, I’ll slip into the container he just took down.’ sheathing the knife, Mark retreats to his hiding spot and waits.
Moments later, Mason puts the radio down and lifts the load, turns, and lowers it in anticipation to take it down the aisle. Only for the engine on the forklift to sputter and die on him. The door into the container sits just a few feet in front of Mark’s hiding spot.
‘Well thank you for some good luck finally god…’
“Gods fucking Dammit!” Mark holds back a smile, only moving upon hearing the sound of Mason the wolverine abandoning the truck. Taking a peek with the mirror, he sees the weird mammal kicking the side of the machine while holding the hose with one hand and the radio in the other.
“Mason here, you just ‘had’ to tempt the gods didn’t you by saying that! The damn idiots crushed the hose. It has a small leak, so I’m stuck in Column C, Row nine.” As the comical wolverine yells into the radio, Mark slips inside the container, closing the door behind him.
Only to instantly gag and slap the gas-mask onto his face. ‘Onions, this had to be full of pallets of onions!’ Climbing over the pallets of boxes and around the [do not double stack] triangles, Mark makes his way to the back of the container.
‘Okay so far, so good I guess. I mean they are looking for me, but didn’t find me, so far. I’m in a shipping container destined for Zootopia. Well once that Wolverine’s manager comes and gets it, hopefully.’ Reaching between the pallet he’s on and the next one, he rips the shrink wrap and moves some boxes off the pallet.
‘All I need to do is sit tight and wait. Letting them do their job while hoping no one looks inside.’ with the boxes moved, he has some room to settle into, so he’s not thrown about by the movement of the container.
Taking off the backpack, he sets it to the side, removes the rolled up raft and uses it to cover the area, rolling one end to use as a head rest rather than the hard boxes.
Before laying down, he removes his tablet from the suit. ‘Good time as any to get some shut-eye, been up at least ten hours, if not more counting the walk here.’ Unrolling the tablet, Mark sets an alarm for three hours to be safe.
‘Hmm, I will be on a cargo train, they don’t move that fast after all. So an extra hour won’t hurt.’ Deleting that alarm, Mark makes another one for four hours. Rolling the tablet back up he shifts to his side, slots the tablet back in and lays down.
The alarm time instantly shows up on his HUD as he closes his eyes and lays his hands over his chest with a sigh.
[beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep]
“I’m up!” sitting up, Mark removes the rolled up tablet from his suit just enough to disconnect it, thus silencing the screeching alarm before re-inserting it.
All the while he feels the rhythmic vibrations of the rail car under him rolling on tracks.
Stretching a bit, he rolls the raft back up, then ties it to the backpack. ‘Okay I should be somewhere between Bunny Burrow and Zootopia right now. Question is where.’ Shouldering the backpack, he crawls his way to the front of the container, opens the door, and blinks repeatedly from the morning sun streaming in.
It’s already a good hand length above the horizon.
With a smile he looks down. ‘Thank God this container’s a smaller one.’ climbing off the pallet, he moves and shuts the container door behind him, sitting down on the two foot of space between the container and edge of the flat-bed railcar.
‘Don’t need this. Besides, I should use it sparingly. I think I only have one extra filter in the backpack.’ Taking off the gas-mask, Mark takes a deep breath of fresh air, with a slight tinge of onion. ‘Great, I’m going to smell like that for a while.’
Leaning the backpack and himself against the container door, the backpack’s quickly opened as he takes out the survival kit to look at the contents.
‘A bottle of water, good another bottle to refill with the drinking straw. Just about as month’s worth of nutrition bars in here. They’re bland and tasteless, but these things give you what you need to live off of, I can stretch it to two months if I only eat half a day.’ Taking one bar out, he pauses.
‘A two-way radio?’ Shifting the rest of the bars to the side along with some iodine tablets is a digital and analog two-way radio about the size of an old style bar-phone from the beginning of the last century.
Pulling it out, Mark looks it over. ‘Huh it takes a standard battery pack.’ Removing a spare one from his suit, he slots it into the back of the radio.
The instant it clicks into the slot, the device turns on with a hiss of static. ‘Lets see here.’
Flipping the radio over, Mark presses one of the tuning membrane buttons to find a station through both the digital and analog spectrum.
[… ood Morning ZOOTOPIA! I’m Ace Caracal.] A loud jingle plays. ‘Shock jocks? Better than nothing I guess.’ Mark places the two-way against his backpack, the takes off his helmet, placing it next to the backpack too.
[And I’m Oliver the Rat!] The two-way radio draws more of Marks attention than the scenery. ‘Voice modulation? Then again, the smaller the mammal the higher pitched their voice would be considering what I’ve heard so far. That means a Rat’s voice would need to be modulated down to be mostly audible.’
Taking out his tablet, he flicks his wrist, unrolling it, and places it on his lap.
[Welcome to the Cat and Mouse morning show!] A set of canned sound effects plays. ‘God that’s cringy. I can see why they died out.’ Opening the photo gallery, Mark swipes through them till he stops at one image in particular.
Taken when Angela was seven years old, and Steven was Thirteen, he stands there at the young age of Nine in between them.
Behind the three of them stand his smiling parents, letting out a sigh, Mark’s face falls a bit as he looks them over.
[Ace: Yes, we have the same big headline everyone else is carrying today, but first, your traffic, and weather for the diurnal specie’s morning commute. Take it Oliver.]
Letting out a sigh, Mark enlarges the picture. ‘Mom and Dad took this in celebration of a record year for their farm and ranch.’ Panning up a bit shows the Bio-Morphs tending the wheat field, the real reason for the record year.
‘I wonder if Steve and Angela be able to pay off the rest of the debt buying them caused. Not to mention if they’ll treat them well. I mean no one in my family other than me can even understand they’re not animals. Still, they should treat them well. I hope.’ Closing the application, he lays the tablet on his lap.
[Oliver: It’s Six-Thirty AM, June Forth, Twenty Nineteen in the new system voted in by the Camalfornia legislature three years ago. Or Zero, Six, Thirty-Six in the morning on June Forth, Thirty Seven Forty-Three for those of us too stubborn to give up the Imperial system.] Shaking his head, Mark chuckles. ‘Figures they’d have a base eight system with only four fingers, also, those dates. Am I in their version of the past, or their version of the future depending on which of those systems are more correct in keeping time?’
[Oliver: We have a fender bender on Tonga avenue in the Rainforest district. Expect delays if you need to get into the district for work, so please seek and alternate route. Other than that it seems this morning’s rush hour is just as jam packed as any other.] Reaching into the survival pack and pulling out a nutrient bar, he opens it and takes a bite.
‘Dry, crunchy, tasteless, though this should hold me over till I figure out how to feed myself without getting caught and shipped off to some black site.’
[Oliver: As for today’s weather, if you live within the influence of the climate walls, today’s planned high’s and lows as always are on City-env’s website, along with the rain-schedules. For everyone else though, it’s going to be a mild if a little warm summer day at Twenty-one Celsius as the high temperature, with lows in the Fourteen to Fifteen Celsius range in the new system. That’s One hundred and six as a high and Seventy-Three as a low in the old imperial system.] Mark stares at the two-way.
‘That’s ‘a little warm’ for them?! It’s down right chilly in the morning and only mildly warm for the high back home.’ Sighing, he finishes off his meal for the day before grabbing a water bottle and washing the taste out of his mouth with a grimace.
‘I don’t know how, but they taste worse wet.’
Putting the water bottle away, he leans his head against the container door as the train slowly turns, following the curve of the track and bringing where he’s at into the sunlight, rather than the shade cast by the container.
[Ace: That’s it for the weather, now onto our headline story, so, unless you’ve been living in the urban legend of the ‘nocturnal’ district, you know what today is. Three years ago today Officer Judith Laverne Hopps, and at that time, civilian Nicholas Piberius Wilde. Stopped a conspiracy orchestrated by then Mayor pro-tem Dawn Bellwether to gain permanent political power in the city of zootopia and the state of camalfornia. Using an extract of a flower commonly called ‘Night Howler’ she had accomplices drug random predators to instill a sense of fear of them in the public. A fear she would ‘just so happen’ to have a cure for.]
Reaching up, he scratches the stubble on his face. ‘Three years after the events of the movie, past it is then. Good news I guess, means my presence won’t mess things up like a nit-wit time traveler.
Well more than I already have by simply being here, if their Twenty Nineteen progresses the same as the one back home about eighty-one years ago… Then I may be in some trouble. That’s a problem for later though.’
[Ace: For the past three years today’s been Predator Appreciation Day. So it was fitting that yesterday, after a nearly three year trial, in which Dawn Bellwether had been found guilty of all charges. Dawn Bellwether got sentenced to life in prison, so today’s events will be extra special for the predator population.]
Mark tilts his head a bit. ‘Huh, would’ve expected her to get the death penalty. She would’ve back home at the attempted insurrection.’ He sighs. ‘Maybe they haven’t learned that lesson yet…’
[Oliver: This is in-spite of the team of high-status lawyers she was somehow able to employ to fight the charges every step of the way.] ‘Even through the modulation to lower his voice, it sounded like he wanted to say something ‘more’ than that, I mean for shock jocks this is rather tame language.’
[Ace: Anyway, as for our two finest mammals in blue. The only statement the Zootopia Police Department has released on the subject is that they are enjoying a well-earned vacation at an undisclosed location. We’ll keep you posted if we ever find out where that is, so we can try to be the first to interview them about it Dawn Bellwether’s sentence.]
[Oliver: Not every mammal is happy though. The ZPD had to quell a demonstration that turned into a riot between predator and prey loyalists yesterday. More demonstrations will most likely happen later today as the city wakes up. This station will try to keep you up to date about them. More than likely expect lots of bumper to bumper traffic for this evening’s commute because of this.]
‘Well that’s to be expected. What’s the old saying? You can’t please everyone at the same time?’ Mark stretches a bit as the sun warms him. Hills start cropping up on the flat plain as the train travels on.
[Ace: In other headlines the primaries for…] Mark reaches over, grabs the two-way radio, then removes the battery pack, placing it back onto the suit. ‘Not in the mood for politics, especially considering since they have primaries, it means they have political parties. Here’s to hoping they learn their lesson about them in a less violent way.’
Dumping the Two-Way into the backpack, he pauses for a moment as something clicks. ‘Wait a minute… A Fox and a Rabbit in a truck going into the Hopp’s farm, Judy’s Home, in the dead of the night. That was them?! I nearly got caught by Nick and Judy?’ Shaking his head, Mark stares out to the now rolling hills and off in the distance, a decent sized mountain range.
‘Of all the animal people here. They would be the last ones I would want to run into considering what I remember of the movie.’ Wiping his mouth a bit to get a stray crumb off of it, he lets out a sigh.
‘Wonder if ‘Stan’ will tell Judy what happened.’ Leaning his head back against the container door, he watches the scenery roll by.
‘Judy! Judy! You have to believe me I was shot by an alien! No I wasn’t drinking.’ Laughing for a moment, it ends in a yawn. Followed by a sigh as the hills become steeper, turning into the base of a mountain range.
Chilled mountain air quickly replaces the warm summer morning breeze. ‘Damn, I was enjoying that. Okay, time to put the helmet back on.’ Clicking it in place, he puts away his tablet and stuffs anything loose around him into the backpack just as he feels the train start to tilt up from the incline.
Holding the backpack in his lap, Mark uses his feet to brace himself. Not long after, the train more or less levels out shortly before going through a series of short tunnels. Each one with a light dusting of snow just above the entrances.
Getting up, Mark opens the door and moves to sit in the inside of the container. ‘Should help till we get to the other side of the mountain range.’
Pulling out the map, he looks it over. ‘I should be about here.’ running his finger along one of the rail track’s that cross over the mountain range near Zootopia.
‘I think this may even be the same one the passenger train went through when Judy went off to the city, just a different line.’
Putting the map away, he leans against the inner wall. ‘Would’ve helped if I also grabbed a map of Zootopia from one of those cars, ah well, most likely they wouldn’t have. I Just hope this train’s destination isn’t in either the desert or the polar area’s. Can’t hide in the former, and I’ll freeze to death in the latter.’ Grabbing his backpack, he keeps it from sliding out of the container as the train takes a horseshoe turn as it climbs a little more.
Moving the door a bit to glance out Mark winces. ‘On one side a rock wall, the other’s a sheer cliff. Yea I’ll stay in here for the moment.’
Slipping on the gas-mask to combat the onion smell, Mark completely shuts the container door. Pulling out the Two-Way radio, then reinserting the battery-pack back into it, he looks for a music station. ‘I wonder how different their oldies and classic music is, compared to back home, or wouldn’t it be contemporary considering what time period I’m in?’
Finding a station, he leans his head against the wall and relaxes a bit.
From the tine notifications on the station, about an hour later the train starts tipping down a bit as it takes another horseshoe turn. Soon, warmer air’s pushing its way into the container through the gaps between the doors.
Opening them, Mark slips off the gas-mask and stores it, stepping back out onto the train car, he leans to the side to take a look in the direction they’re headed.
‘There it is. Zootopia. Damn it’s bigger than I remember from the movie scene. Probably a half hour out at this distance with how fast this train is going.’ Noting the giant skyscrapers in the middle of the city and the giant climate wall the dominates the rest of the skyline.
‘Certainly looks more stylish and pleasing to the eye than back home. Well, minus the giant wall.’ Moving to the other side of the train he winces. ‘And there’s the desert area, Don’t remember there being a giant building shaped like a palm tree in the movie. Though how could you even build something like that?’
A moment later the ka-thunk and hiss of the train engaging its brakes draws his attention as Mark has to hold onto the container. Moving back to the other side, he looks down.
‘Lots of vegetation coming up just past the river we’re about to cross, wasn’t there a rainforest district? Or some other kind of district with a forest? Seems to be the best bet I have on getting off the train before the rail-yard. I have no illusions of being able to sneak out a better staffed one compared to sneaking in.’
Judging the speed and tightening the straps of his backpack Mark breathes out. ‘Just have to wait till it goes past the river. Not only do I not want to cross it, the train should be slow enough by then that I won’t break my neck jumping from it.’ Gripping the corner of the container, he waits.
With the tracks leveling out, the short vegetation gives way to a two lane rail-bridge, being the only train on it. ‘Yea, that river looks deep… huh?’ As he looks down, an Otter’s head bobs up out of the water looking up at him.
‘Even Otters? Wait, wasn’t one of the prominent side characters an Otter?’ Through the visor they’re eyes meet, and he can’t tell the age of the mammal, only they appear male from the pair of swim trunks that he only notices as the Otter dives back down into the water.
A second later, the train arrives at the other shore with the ka-thunk and squeal of the second set of brakes, slowing the train much more quickly. Looking forward through the trees, Mark winces at the sight of stacked containers through the vegetation. ‘Now or never! There’s the fence line for the rail-yard.
Jumping, he lands on his feet, using the momentum Mark rolls into a ball, hands on the top of his helmet, his forearms protecting his face. ‘This is worse than when I did this to get to Kansas City.’ Wincing as the brush and low branches smack into him.
Each hit though slows him down until he comes to rest against what looks like a tree, but feels like solid metal.
“Ow….” Uncurling, Mark sits up and looks himself over. ‘Thank god I was wearing the combat suit.’ Noting the green grass and leaf stains where he smacked into branches and through a bush. ‘Otherwise I may have had some nasty gashes or something impaled into my body.’
Touching a spot he winces. ‘Instead I’ll have some nasty bruising.’ Moving his limbs and slowly getting up onto his feet he winces. ‘Yea just bruises, nothing feels broken, thank god. Now lets just check my gear.’
Taking off the backpack, he rolls his shoulders. ‘Well the raft’s ripped and torn now, not that I was going to use it as a raft again.’ Opening the backpack, Mark sifts through everything inside. ‘Cracked the cases containing the survival kit and first aid kit, Crushed a packet of water purifier tablets into dust, ruined one of the water bottles.’ Tossing the packet and the bottle, he zips the backpack closed.
Pulling out his tablet, he looks it over. ‘Good, as I hoped the suit’s shell protected it from any damage.’ Slotting it back in place, Mark pulls out both Plasma Shockers from their holsters.
‘Just scratches and one has a twig in the mechanism, but nothing looks broken.’ Removing the twig, he puts both weapons away.
Taking off the gas-mask next. ‘Just some scratches on the plastic, the transparent aluminum visor is fine.’ Attaching it to the backpack, he looks at what stopped his roll.
‘That’s not a tree, yet it looks like one.’ Reaching over to touch it, Mark blinks.
‘It’s some kind of vinyl wrap with a tree bark pattern on it?’ Looking up curiously. ‘Oh, it’s a disguised sprinkler, I can see the heads of the water jets in between some plastic leaves.’ Shrugging, then wincing before rolling his shoulders a couple of times to get rid of the pain, Mark hefts the backpack back up onto his back.
‘Makes sense, California, or as they seem to call it Camalfornia isn’t tropical, so they’d need something to water all the plants and mimic the frequent rainfall in such areas.’ Looking back the way he rolled, the train still going by in the distance, even if the rail-yard isn’t visible through all the foliage.
Sliding down the embankment a little, the ground sort of levels out in one direction. ‘I guess I’ll go that way.’ Only to come to a stop no more than a few yards later.
A well-worn and perfectly straight dirt trail ending in a small grass patch to his left, towards the train and the sprinkler, and to the right the trail t-junctions with another one. ‘Of course, a maintenance path. They’ve gotta have some way to get to a broken unit to fix it. Well, that’s just good news for me.’
Stepping out of the bush and onto the path, then stops at the junction. ‘As counterintuitive as it looks on the surface. I’m going to have to head closer to the rail-yard, despite not wanting to go there. With this many being out and about, an abandoned building is a better place to hide in than ‘cultivated’ wilderness like this. Not to mention that Otter I saw, he’s probably around here too.’ Turning right at the junction, Mark keeps an eye on the distant end of the path just in case anyone comes into view. All the while rubbing a troublesome bruise on his arm through the combat suit.
An unlocked fence gate wide enough for a small golf cart indicates the end of the trail. Beyond it is a short path leading to a side-walk and a blacktop street. Opening the gate, Mark lets himself through and closes the gate behind himself. ‘Even though I’m trespassing, no need to be rude…’
Heading into the brush between the fence and the sidewalk, Mark uses a finger to slightly push a branch out of the way. ‘Yea, I wouldn’t have made it out of their if I rode the train all the way into the rail-yard. Not with those sky-cranes, they’d be able to track my every movement.’ Stepping back, he follows the sidewalk from within the brush as best he can.
Only to stop when he hears a vehicle approach. ‘Is that a truck or car?’ Ducking down, he moves a large fern leaf out of the way. ‘Truck, for a moment there I was worried. All these Internal combustion engines sound the same. For a moment I thought it was a police car. Wouldn’t be surprised if the Otter I saw was a worker on his break.’
Letting go of the fern leaf, and continuing down the road at a slow pace. ‘Probably should find a place to hide till nightfall, so I can avoid all the day shift workers. The streets should be emptier when the night shift starts.’
When the section of greenery ends along with the arrival of the sounds of various vehicles, Mark lets out a sigh. ‘Of course it wouldn’t be that easy.’
Slightly moving a fern leaf to the side Mark watches the various cars and trucks roll past on a four lane road, though when they have to stop for the traffic light he can’t help rolling his eyes at the sight.
‘Furari? Really? I can’t tell if that’s better or worse than the Toyoata, even if that one is just as obvious. Kinda interesting to see Ford is still Ford…’ Sighing, he takes a seat on a nearby rock and waits.
‘Eventually traffic will calm down and I will be able to cross the street to those buildings. Are they even buildings though? They seem to have more trees in their design than the actual construction. How does that even work?’
Checking the clock on his HUD every so often as he watches the traffic slowly thin over the course of the hour. Only standing up when there’s more than five to ten minutes of time when no vehicles seen going either way, other than the occasional semi or two.
‘Now’s my chance.’ Shifting the palm leaf out of the way, before looking both directions for traffic. Seeing no vehicles for more than a block in either direction, Mark runs across the four lane roadway till he reaches the buildings.
Staying next to one of the buildings, and under its closed loading docks, which seems to actually built around the trees. He dashes down the wall until the alleyway between the two buildings comes into view. Ducking behind a tree that upon being this close, shows it’s not part of the structure, Mark makes sure it’s between him and the view of the street.
Slowing his breath, he calms his heart rate down. ‘Okay, now all I can do is hope no one saw me.’ waiting, he watches as a few more cars pass by, and several trucks. Seeing each one continuing past and not stopping gets him to relax a bit. ‘Whew, no one saw me.’
Turning around he looks down the alleyway. ‘Guess their style of being made with nature is more facade than function. Looks like just any ally between warehouses like back home.’ Getting out from behind the tree, Mark walks along the wall of the warehouse on his left.
Stopping at a fire-door mark lets out a sigh. ‘Is every door in this place going to be like the one at the Hopps farm?’ Looking straight ahead, the biggest one of the nested bunch is right at eye level. Then the next one nested inside it is a normal door, followed by the smaller ones from earlier in turn nested inside the previous one.
Shrugging dejectedly, Mark continues to walk down the alleyway.
The echoing click of a door opening sends Mark diving under wrought iron gantry way and stairs. ‘Shit!’
“~Go take out the trash Pelt.~” Mark goes still upon hearing the high-pitched voice.
Looking up at a Gray Fox carrying a trash bag larger than they are out onto the walkway. ‘From the sound of it, asshole bosses are a constant across universes, I wouldn’t order someone to move something larger than them.’
Following the fox with his eyes, Mark stays perfectly still as they traverse down the stairs and over to a typical green commercial trash bin. Noting it’s about one and a half times taller than the fox is.
‘What are they doing?’ Watching as the fox puts down the trash-bag, They physically climb up the side of it, then lift the lid.
The strain on ‘her’ clothes outlines what’s underneath. ‘This is going to get annoying, I can’t tell if whom I’m looking at is male or female as easily as I could with another human. If I am going to have to talk to them, I’ll have to be careful till I know.’ With the lid up the gray fox hops down to the concrete, then picks up the trash-bag.
Spinning in place like she’s doing a track and field hammer throw, letting go of the bag just at the right moment to send it into the open bin with a grunt.
“Speciest bastard, I’m not even four feet tall, and he wants me to take out ‘all’ the trash?” Swallowing silently, Mark watches the gray fox stomp her way back up the steps, then back into the building.
Only to come back out a moment later carrying another trash-bag the same size as the last one to throw away, which she does in the same method.
Mark tenses up each time the female gray fox returns with a bag of trash, each time expecting to be caught. Only after the fifth time does the door close and not re-open. Sending Mark to the ground as he relaxes.
‘Must’ve been too angry and focused on her task to see me, not to mention smell me… Yea, priority one is shelter till nightfall. I don’t think my nerves can take another close call like that.’
Crawling out from under the stairway, slowly, just in case the door opens again, Mark stops only halfway out and looks up. ‘Good, she’s not coming back out. She’s actually done and not just grabbing more trash.’ Standing back up he looks over at the neighboring warehouse.
‘I wonder if that one’s is empty? It would be a good and quick place to hide.’ Crossing the ally, then following the wall further down, He comes across another elevated entrance with a gantry way.
Slowly climbing to lessen the noise his boots make, just in case anyone’s home. He also keeps a wary eye on a window next to the door.
Taking out the mirror, he extends the rod and slowly raises it up to look through the window. ‘Lights are off, nothing on the walls nor any furniture in the small room, just another door to the rest of the building. This warehouse might actually be empty.’ Putting the mirror away, he walks up to the window.
‘No security camera’s and I know they won’t have any of those pin prick high definition ones yet. Those didn’t come out till the twenty thirties back home.’ Putting his head against the window at the opposite end to the door he sighs. ‘The door has one of those old magnetic sensor security systems. I could break open the door, but that would trigger the alarm. I wonder if it has some kind of wireless sensor?’
Taking out his tablet, Mark flicks his wrist, opening it before holding it flat against the door, then moving it about where he suspects the control panel is.
‘Maybe here? No.’ Moving it higher, then lower until the program on the tablet detects a signal, finally, a foot off the bottom of the door frame. ‘Of course it would be down that low, not like any other animals are taller than those rabbits in Bunny Burrow’ Rolling his eyes in frustration at the position he needs to stand in to do this, it’s causing his legs to ache something bad.
‘What’s taking the program so long to do this? It was near instantaneous on the Hopps farm gate.’ He shuffles from one knee to the other after a few minutes, anything to relieve the aches.
‘This isn’t helping my bruis… got it! Seems a little excessive for an empty warehouse. A thirty-two-digit alphanumeric code.’ Tapping the tablet in a few places, Mark has it send the deciphered code to the security system.
When his tablet beeps, he shuffles over to the door handle for the size between human normal and less than a foot. With his free hand, Mark yanks up, then pushes down forcefully with his weight. The smaller lock breaks under loads it wasn’t designed to take, allowing him to push the door open.
‘With that, I’m in.’ Crawling through the now open door, he kicks it shut behind him, the force causing what’s left of the latch mechanism to catch.
“Ow Ow…” Wincing as he stands up, Mark looks about the room. Then heads further in via the door on the opposite wall from the entrance, only to stop in his tracks.
‘Not abandoned, just not staffed.’ in front of him is row after row of unmarked brown boxes shrink-wrapped to pallets taking up most of the floor space. ‘Yea, lets just wait in the small room, just in case.’ Turning around he closes the door behind him and walks over to the corner no one can see from the window.
With a contented sigh, Mark slips his backpack off, then reaches for the straps and zippers for the suit after taking off his helmet. ‘Lets see how badly bruised I am from my little jump back there.’ As the torso and sleeves come off, to hang loosely from the waist, Mark winces at the sight.
‘Yea, that gave me some nasty welts.’
The force that hit the gauntlet and glove part’s of the suit left bruises on his hands and forearms mimicking the shapes of the trauma plates, same with is upper arms. Expect one long and thin welt shows where a branch hit him. Looking down, he can see two are from where his elbows contacted his chest.
Taking out the mirror he looks over his head, there are some red marks where the harder part of the padding is on the helmet but no bruising. The parts of his skin that aren’t bruised are a tinged with a lighter shade of red. ‘Left over effects from the uncontrolled drop from sub-space?’
Putting the mirror away, mark uses tablet to take a picture of his back. ‘Thank god for the suit! My entire back is just one big bruise, hell I see it turning purple along the edges, but it would’ve been worse without it. Sigh, considering how my legs felt when I was kneeling, I’m sure they’re covered as well.’
Sitting down, he winces then sighs as the cold wall touches his bruised back, acting as a cold-pack. ‘Come to think of it, I should have some pain medication in the first aid kit right?’ Pulling the backpack over, Mark digs it out, along with the remaining bottle of water.
Popping a couple of pills into his mouth he swallows them with a gulp of water then leans his head against the wall with a sigh.
‘Okay, I’m here in Zootopia. Shelter’s first on the list, so when night falls I’ll try to find a more permanent location. I’m sure there are some smaller abandoned buildings I can hide in. Baring that I can try to rough it in the under-brush well off the beaten path.’ Pulling out the survival kit, he takes inventory of it again.
‘Water will be the next thing I’ll have to handle. Considering the disguised sprinkler I saw earlier, this district has regular rainfall.’ Glancing at the remains of the raft rolled up and tied to the backpack Mark shrugs. ‘Making a rain catch it is, well, If I can’t find a building then it will be a tent and rain-catch.’
His eyes then fall to his waist and the two Plasma Shockers sitting in their holsters. ‘That leaves food as my next concern.’
‘I have no money they’ll accept, they’re decades away from going to digital chips too. I could steal some clothes and with some creativity, make myself look like some kind of tall tailless animal. Thankfully they’re not like Bio-Morphs, so I can speak their language. I just can’t walk up to a food bank and say ‘Hey give me food’. I’ll be spotted quickly under close observation no matter what I do.’ Taking a Plasma Shocker out of its holster, Mark ejects the capacitor laden cylinder mechanism.
Looking over the voltage ratings marked on them, his hands come to a sudden stop. ‘Am I really considering doing this? I lucked out that I didn’t fry Stan when I hit him. Who’s to say the next mammal I shock would be as lucky. Or if I didn’t give enough, and they’re pissed off. That would end badly for me.’ Reinserting the cylinder, Mark tilts the weapon to look at the dial for selecting the shock level.
‘Do I have a choice? I can always go up to their police station and say hello? Resulting in me being treated like the alien I am. Sigh, so my choices are to starve to death, or steal to eat.’ He pauses, then shakes his head.
‘No, choosing to go say hello is still a choice. So I can do that and end up in some black site to be vivisected, starve to death, or steal to eat.’
Turning it down to the lowest setting like the other one, he lays it in his lap. ‘If I’m going to do this, I’m going to make some ground rules for myself, I’m not some fucking lowlife. First, no one smaller than a Rabbit. I shocked Stan on the lowest setting, so I’ll assume that’s the lower size limit for the setting, also no larger than anyone my size. I doubt this will work on a giant horse or bull even at max voltage.’ Taking out the tablet, he opens up a note-pad application and pulls out a stylus to start writing these down.
‘Second, I’ll only take cash. If this is the same as Twenty-Nineteen back home, they’ll still have cash circulating. Then I’ll do cash on delivery for take out meals or whatever. I know I could easily access their credit or debit accounts with my tablet. Heck I could clean out any ATM I come across if I wanted with the cyber warfare program. Though I do forget if they still dispensed cash or did they switch to data chip only as early as Twenty-Nineteen?’ Tapping the stylus against the tablet he looks up at the ceiling for the answer.
Only finding the slightly molded office paneling as an answer, he sighs. ‘Regardless, they’re off limits. I’m sure the authorities here would spend more time on a thief that cleans out an ATM rather than someone who just robs a person. Speaking of which, I guess the third rule, those who I shock and steal from I will make sure they’re not harmed in any other way, nor will I take anything else. All I want is money to eat nothing more.’
Laying the tablet on top of the Plasma Shocker he brings the stylus up to his mouth and holds the tip in his teeth in thought.
‘What else… hmm. Going to have to make what I take stretches as long as possible. If I steal too frequently, they’ll catch me. So maybe once to twice a week at most… Oh, and never on the same street if I can help it. I have to leave as little of a pattern as possible to make it harder for them to find me.’ Taking the stylus out of his mouth, Mark jots that down, and underlines it.
Then he lets out a sigh and lays his head back. ‘That means I’m going to have to move every so often too. Still, it’s better than trying to catch food out in the wilderness and wondering if what I caught was sentient and just not wearing clothes that day… Ack!’ A loud boom of water suddenly hitting the roof jolts him out of his train of thought.
Looking out the window shows that it’s gone from bone dry to full on down-pour in a matter of seconds. ‘And that must be the rain system they have here in this district. Going to have to find the schedules, so I’m not caught out in it. Looks down right torrential.’ Saving the document and closing it, he lays the tablet on his lap again.
‘Of course no networks in range. Though, is it even possible for this to connect to such old networks? Something I’ll have to check out later, otherwise I’m going to have to get my hands on something that can. A cheap phone, that I’ll buy, not steal.’ Putting the Plasma Shocker back into its holster, he then checks the battery on the tablet.
‘Not bad, still about seventy-five percent full after all this time and two cracking sessions. I think I can spare some battery for entertainment while I wait for nightfall. Regardless I’m going to be using the solar charger tomorrow.’
Taking out two ear-buds from the opposite end of the cylinder from where the stylus came from, Mark puts them in his ears. Being so small, they’re barely noticeable once in place. Opening the file browser, he navigates to his media folder and scrolls through screen after screen of movies and shows.
‘Three hundred terabytes out of an exabyte disk, and nothing to watch…’ Pausing for a moment, Mark then lets out a chuckle. ‘Hmm. Actually there’s an idea. Why not?’
Going all the way to the Z section, Mark opens the 8K remaster of Zootopia. ‘Well, since I’m here. Even if some things don’t match the movie, like their voices.’ Pulling out a bottle of water, Mark sets it next to himself, then leans back to watch the movie, glad the pain-killers are taking already taking effect.
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