Disclaimer: Zootopia stories, characters, settings, and properties belong to the Walt Disney Co. This story is written under Fair Use Copyright laws.
-------------------------------------------------------
The Fire TriangleâA Zootopia Fanfiction
-------------------------------------------------------
Part One:
Fuel
-------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 11 âThe Fire Next Time
(Pt. 6...Continued)
No one could say for certain when and where it first appearedâbut everyone agreed that the ZPD first became aware of the thing after it popped up on FuzzTube.
For once, Cybercrimes Division was able to track the posting to its source, a young kangaroo rat in Little Rodentia named Tracey Merriamâwho insisted she'd copied it off a message posted on the Dischord chat-server, #ElevenFive.
When the Cybercrimes techs went to examine the #ElevenFive log for that day, they found no reference to it whatsoever. For a moment, Lieutenant Albert Tufts was certain Tracey had been stringing them along...until one of his officers, a Linsang cat named John Bakalop, pointed out a strange, disjointed gap in the conversation.
"Look there; here's this one kid talking about how his dad made an excuse not to see him on Saturday, and in the very next sentence, there's a girl, complaining about how her folks won't let her get her tail pierced. It's like they're not even aware of each other's presence."
A check of the time stamp revealed nearly an hour-long gap between the two messages. Everything in between had been deleted.
That had been frustrating, but also encouraging. Any and all misgivings about the video's authenticity had just been quelled for good.
The next item on the agenda was basically a fool's errand, a task everyone knows is a waste of time, (and that no one wants to perform,) but still it has to be done. And so Lt. Tufts had contacted Fuzztube and demanded the offending video be pulled. Even if the website had agreedâwhich the ZPD knew they wouldn't, (and they didn't,) it was too late anyway. By then it was common knowledge that the video had begun to go viral even before it had landed on the video hosting service ...and the word was quickly spreading IRL (In Real Life) too.
A young caracal at a skate park in Savanna Central told his buds about it, and one of them, a blackfooted tree-rat, told his girlfriend about it, and she told her girlfriends about it, and one of them, a Samoan flying fox-bat told her sister, who told her boyfriend, who knew a guy, who knew guy that worked as a DeeJay on weekends, and he put it up on the big screen at a rave in Old Growth City.
The first of Conor's friends to learn of it was, typically, Dana Alchesay, the coyote girl who'd been his shill that night on the Beach Promenade. After seeing a reference to it on Preddit, she'd looked it up and then quickly informed the other members of the fugitive young silver fox's crew.
By that time, news of the video had begun to spread well beyond the boundaries of Zootopia. Erin Hopps found out about it while taking a break from rehearsing her audition song to play some volleyball.
It was two on two, Erin and her friend Tawny Lloyd against a pair of masked opponents, Jessie Ringgold, a raccoon, and a Tanuki with blue-dyed hair and a name the young white-furred bunny could never quite remember; Mitchi, or Micki or something like that. The game ended in a tie because Jess had to leave for a babysitting job.
Erin had just come off the court when her phone pinged to tell her she had a new text message.
It was from Lisa Chatterton; typical for her species, the young Douglas squirrel had taken three paragraphs to deliver what was essentially a simple message, "You need to see this," followed by a URL.
When Erin clicked on the link, she couldn't really see anything...but she could hear it. She replayed the video four times before stowing her cell and hurrying home to her hutch and her computer...where she could SEE as well as hear what was going on.
Fate is known to have a warped sense of humor. And so it was that Nick Wilde and Judy Hopps were amongst the last to learn of the video's existence.
They heard about it while checking in with Benjamin Clawhauser on their way to morning roll-call.
"Hey, guess what? That Conor Lewis kid posted a video on Fuzztube."
His timing might have been just a wee bit better. Judy almost choked on her carrot-muffin and Nick's coffee nearly came shooting out of his nose.
"Say WHAT?" they demanded in unison when they recovered.
As always, Benjamin had exaggerated his facts a little and he quickly walked them back, Conor hadn't posted the video on Fuzztube himself; that had been the work of some other kidâbut he was the one who'd created it, no doubt about that; heck, he'd even signed it.
"Cybercrimes still doesn't know where it came from," the plus size cheetah informed them cheerfully. They think it was probably posted on the Dark Web first or something. Lieutenant Tufts is just about going crazy; everyone wants answers and he doesn't have any."
"Good," Judy muttered under her breath, drawing a nod of concurrence from her partner. That was one piece of positive news anyway.
The rest of their day was slow torture for the fox and bunny-cop; the minutes dragging by like slow molasses as they waited for their shift to end. Oh, their cruiser had an on board computer, butâare you getting enough irony in your diet? Thanks to that leaked surveillance-cam video of the two of them kissing, Chief Bogo had issued a decree. Henceforth all ZPD computers were to be blocked from accessing Fuzztube. Not until they clocked out for the day would Nick and Judy be able to go check out the video for themselves
Fate must have been in a particularly perverse mood that morning; their day was exceptionally slow, with practically nothing going on, making the time pass even more slowly than usual. The high point was when they issued a 'fix-it ticket' to a giraffe driving with burned-out tail-lights.
Finally, mercifully, their shift came to an end, and they hurried back to Precinct-1 to clock out and get online.
Fortunatelyâtheir only piece of good luck so farâJudy had brought her own laptop to work with her today. (UN-fortunately, it had been in sore need of recharging when she'd arrived for work.) They still couldn't access Fuzztube from inside the precinct, but no worries; Pizzeria Pianeta, only a short distance away, offered free Wi-Fi to its customers.
Settling into a booth with a pie cooling on the table between them, Judy opened the laptop, now mostly recharged, and booted up. It took her no time at all to find the video on Fuzztube; she simply entered the name 'Conor Lewis' in the search window and there it was.
At first, it seemed that she and Nick had been had. The display window showed nothing but a dark, empty space. Judy moved the cursor and clicked the 'play' button, and at once, a title appeared, rendered in Copperplate Script.
It read:
The Otterboys - The Connemara Fox
Fifth of November Remix
Conor Lewis: Guitar and Vocals.
Remixed and Posted Without Permission.(Yeah, yeah...who cares? I'm already in trouble for way worse than this.)
Judy regarded her partner with a jaundiced eye.
"Are all foxes budding comedians...or is it just you and this kid?"
Nick's brow jumped indignantly upwards. "What do you mean 'budding' comedians?"
She barely heard him; something else had just occurred to herâthe way a lightning strike 'occurs' to a steeple. With that final sentence, Conor had cemented in her mind that yes, he was the one who'd made this videoâand she hadn't even seen it yet. Had that been intentional on his part?
Before Judy could even begin to mull the question, the screen changed to a mobile view of Zootopia, shot through the window of a Metro train by the look of it. At the same time, the music began to play, a thumping bass and drum, together with a rolling organ; she couldn't help thinking that Erin would have loved this.
And then the vocals commenced, and whatever few remaining doubts she might have had were swept away. It was Conor all right; after his performance at the Hopps Family Bonfire, she'd know this fox-kid's singing voice anywhere.
The lyrics left very little doubt as to where he was coming from.
"There's a fox on the run
And he's never been caught..."
The accompanying video was crudely rendered, a still shot of a young fox jumping a fence, (not silver) followed by a mish-mash of Zootopia streetlife videos that didn't always sync with the lyrics.
But then they didn't really need to, not with lyrics like...
"His enemies number fallen priests
Mammals of power
And the crooked police..."
"Ouch!" Nick yipped from beside her, "Tufts must have blown five gaskets when he heard that line." He sounded almost a little bit amused.
Judy wasn't; she was a little bit insultedâmore than a little and not just 'almost.'
The verse ended on what was practically a dare.
"They're never, ever gonna catch...the Connemara Fox."
The next verse followed pretty much the same formula. The Connemara Fox's enemies would nearly catch up with him, but at the last minute, he always gave them the slip.
"And the only clues he left his foes
Were a fistful of dust, a change of the locks
The words of a Kris Kristottersen song
A pair of old socks
And graffiti saying, 'So long, suckers,
Love, the Connemara Fox.'"
Nick and Judy both stifled a groan. Great now they'd be seeing that last line sprayed all over Zootopia too.
But it was song's the third verse that really made their ears stand up and pay attention.
This time, the accompanying video was something quite familiar; the footage of Conor and Judy's little sister's performance at the Carrot Days Festival Talent Show.
The young fox had also apparently altered the lyrics to fit the visuals.
"He was in Bunnytown
On the day of the fair
When ship-like clouds
Sailed the summer air
And a bass-guitar thumped
And a Stratocat played
And the animals jumped...and danced at the foot of stage."
It was all Judy could do to keep from covering her eyes.
"Ohhh, sweet cheez n' crackers; if mom and dad ever get a look this, I wouldn't want to be in Erin's fur."
(The last time Judy had seen this footage, it had been on her kid sister's tablet; Conor must have somehow gotten it from her.)
The following verse was more of the same, the Connemara Fox leaving a note and vanishing before he could be caught. It ended, however, on a blazing guitar solo...a brilliant piece of work that made the doe-bunny feel immeasurably sad. Conor could play like this and he'd thrown it all away....for WHAT?
The solo was followed by the tune's last verse
"He'll be where there is music
He'll be where there is fun
He'll be screamin' the blues
'Til the rise of the sun..."
The song ended on another guitar solo, a raucous one.
And then over the sound of the strat they heard the young silver fox's voice rise into a near fox-scream.
"Children of Zootopia! You, who feel the boot of The System on the backs of your necks, ARISE from your dens and your nests, the holes where you hunker. I am the Connemara Fox! I have dared the system and walked away clean, I have spoken truth to power, I have worn the muzzle and the leash, and the shackles, but they could not hold me. I call upon all of you to hear my words. On Friday Night at the stroke of midnight, I will appear in a live-stream webcast on Fuzztube. You'll see the info on your screen at the end of this video. I will be heard, Children of Zootopia. The System will not silence me!"
And with that, the song came to a crashing end and the screen went blank except for a few lines of text...leaving Judy sitting stunned on the sofa. She had seen many sides to the young silver fox known as Conor Lewis...but never, not even in her wildest speculations, would she have taken him for a demagogue.
Then Nick spoke up, snapping her out of her semi-fugue state, ironically in a voice that sounded nearly as flabbergasted as she felt.
"Wha...? Carrots, that's tonight!" He was pointing at the laptop screen with a shaky finger.
That was all it took. Judy blinked and peered closer; Nick was right, that was today's date.
"Well, I know what I'M going to be binge-watching tonight," she heard him say, mouth arcing upwards in an ironic smile. She quickly took hold of his arm.
"We should watch it together, Nick."
He looked at her for a second, and cautiously disengaged himself.
"Carrots, we can't. Have you forgotten?" He nodded at the display screen. "That's not the only video that's been posted on Fuzztube in the last few weeks. What happens if someone sees you following me into my flat...or worse, finds out I was with you at your place late at night?" He rubbed his nose with a finger. "I can smell Rock Hardesty drooling from here."
Judy winced and then grimaced. Nick was right. If he paid her a visit after midnight, her neighbors, Bucky and Pronk Oryx-Antlerson would find out; there were very few secrets in the Crying Pangolin Arms.
But that didn't mean she was ready to throw in the towel.
"Well we can always come back here...."
"They close at 11."
"Okay, then we'll go to the Raccoon Lodge..."
"Forget it, Carrots; I'm not watching it there." Nick's voice was as flat as the expression on his face. "As a matter of fact, I don't want to watch it anywhere that someone else might see me." His eyes darted skittishly around the room, "I just may have few things to say, errrr, not for public consumption."
That stopped Judy in her tracks once more. Right again; he'd come that close to melting down already.
But then her ears shot upwards in a 'V' formation.
"Wait, I know!" she took hold of his arm again. "I know exactly where we can go to watch it without anybody bothering us."
"Really, where?" the red fox asked her...and immediately looked like he wanted to bite himself.
He was still looking that way a short while later, leaning against a wall with his arms crossed, watching her punch numbers into a key-pad. S.O.P. for Judy Hopps, she had refused to divulge her idea until after they'd finished their pizza.
"There's no way Bogo won't have changed the access-code." He told her, for what seemed like the two-hundredth time.
Up until now, Nick's objections had drawn no response, but this he got a rebuttal, not from Judy but from the door-lock, which clicked open as soon as she pressed the #pound key.
He felt the fur on his neck beginning to ruffle.
"All right, but you don't have to look so smug about it," he growled and then followed her into the safe house.
"Okay," she said when they got to the 'living room', "Can you get my laptop hooked up to the big screen, while I go check the kitchen? I need to see if I can find a bowl or something."
By way of explanation, she held up the grocery bag she'd brought with her.
"Yeah, I've got it", Nick answered, trying not to shake his head. Only SHE would think of bringing snacks to watch something like this. (Dangit Carrots, this is serious.)
In fact, although the red fox had no way of knowing it, his partner was not the only animal in Zootopia who had brought munchies along for the Conor Lewis live-stream. Nor was she the only member of the ZPD laying out noshes for the occasion.
In the bullpen of Precinct-1 what amounted to practically a smorgasbord had been set up; actually nothing unusual, Albert Tufts assured Chief Bogo.
"We do this all the time, whenever we pull an all-nighter." He said, waving airily at the bevy of cyber-cops hunched over laptops and workstations...many of whom were nocturnal species.
"Why is that," another voice asked "is it because hackers are active mostly late at night?" It was Dr. Robert Hind, the ZPD's consulting psychologistâlooking very much as if he'd rather be home right now. (No surprise there; blacktail deer are anything but nocturnal.)
"Yes and no," the Kaibab squirrel answered, for once leaving his condescending manner in its box. "They're not necessarily more active at night THEIR timeâdon't forget hacking's an international businessâbut yes, they prefer to operate when it's late at night in their victims' time zone."
He did not elaborate and Dr. Hind didn't ask him to; he only nodded and walked away.
It had taken no small amount of arm-twisting by the head of ZPD Cybercrimes to persuade him to be here...or that was what Tufts thought. In fact, his jury-rigged intimidation scheme had been an epic fail; what had actually gotten the deer-psychologist to change his mind had been a direct appeal from Chief Bogo.
"It's a long chalk at best, but this investigation's stuck in place; it needs all the help it can get. If there's anything you can tell us that might help us find this boy, I'll be fursonally very grateful."
It had been Bogo's appearance as much as his words that had ultimately persuaded Dr. Hind to come on board. He had never seen The Chief looking so frazzled; small wonder, what with all those arson fires on top of this mess. When these two pieces of business were over, he was going to prescribe a nice, long vacation for The ZPD's Chief Officer. (Bogo wouldn't take it of course, but the deer-buck would prescribe it anyway.)
Lt. Tufts, on other paw, looked like he was only just starting his vacation. Well, why not? After weeks of increasing frustration, it looked like ZPD Cybercrimes might finally catch a break.
Only...why?
Why, after successfully eluding the law for so long, was the Lewis boy sticking his neck out like this? That was question on everyone's mindâincluding his. What on earth could have compelled that kid to take such reckless gamble? Not just a podcast, but a livestream webcast; why, what were his motives?
Albert Tufts, for one, was convinced that the fugitive young fox's intention was to mock the ZPD.
"You saw that video; you heard those lyricsâyou've seen that graffiti. The little jerk wants to rub our noses in it."
Loathe as he was to concede anything to the Lieutenant, Dr. Hind had been forced to admit that his reasoning was soundâeven if he didn't agree with it. Taking this kind of chance just to make fun of the cops? The deer-buck didn't think so; a kid cool and clever enough to just walk out of jail wasn't going to throw it all away only to have a laugh at the ZPD's expense.
Chief Bogo's theory, on the other hoof, had been considerably more plausible.
"By now, that fox kid has to know he's got the sympathy of every young miscreant from here to Podunk." The Cape buffalo had postulated, "I think he's about to try and recruit himself an army."
Ye-s-s-s, that made sense; imagine every angst-filled kid in Zootopia having his back. If the Lewis boy could pull that off it would be more than worth the risk he was about to take.
And yet...although Dr. Hind could never say why, it just didn't feel right to him.
In fact, none of this felt right. Tufts had brought every member of the ZPD Cybercrimes squad here tonight, and even recruited a few outside 'consultants'.
All this for just one fox kid, not even in high school yet...and accused of what, besides escaping from custody? It was overkill in all caps...although not without at least some justification. City Hall and the Attorney General's office had been leaning so hard on Lieutenant Tufts of late they'd practically given him scoliosis. And if things hadn't quite reached the point of casting about for a scapegoat, it was fairly obvious who the number one candidate was going to be, if and when thatever occurred. How did that Lewis kid manage to plant a virus in the ZPD mainframe, Lieutenant? The next couple of hours could very well be make-or-break time for the head of ZPD Cybercrimes.
And speak of the devil; here he was again, chittering angrily at one his techs, an unhappy looking muskrat.
"What do you mean Gamsbart's not coming?"
"Whoa, don't git to takin it out on me, Lewtenant" the big rodent responded, in a slangy southern accent, "I'm only the messenger, y'know."
Dr. Hind shook his head and went to get some coffee. He had the feeling he was going to be called on to play referee more than once tonight. For all that, he was beginning to change his mind about coming here. Though he would never admit it publiclyâor at least not in Lieutenant Tufts' presenceâhis curiosity had been seriously piqued; at least a part of him WANTED to see that livestreamâand this was still the best place in town to catch it.
...But not the only place; all over Zootopia and beyond, kids were gathering around laptops and desktops for watch parties.
Conor's friends from school were convening at Jason M'Beke's place in Savanna Central's Palm District. It was an excellent choice; the young silver fox's crew had gathered there on many a prior occasion before his arrest. There was plenty of space, and a free-spirited atmosphere to go with it. Like all Afurican wild dogs, (painted wolves in the PC vernacular) Jason lived in an extended family unit; with his tribe as he liked to call it. The Hopps family warren had very little on the M'Beke clan's den.
Erin Hopps had likewise wanted more than anything to catch Conor's webcast; how could she not after seeing that footage of her and him at the Carrot Days Talent Show? There was just one problem; if her parents found out she'd be pulling weeds until the Hopps Family went back to using kerosene lamps to light their home.
Fortunately, her friend Cara Combs was hosting a watch party at her place (in the guise of a slumber party,)...and when Erin had asked if she could go, her mother had practically whooped with delight.
"Yes, absolutely... except for that volleyball game the other day, you haven't been spending any time with your friends. Nothing but practice, practice, practice...all day long, alone in your room like that; it's not healthy, Erin."
"Mom, okay...you don't need to talk me into it," the young white-furred bunny had laughed, and then given her mother a big hug.
Well, that had been easy enough; but now, sitting cross legged on a pillow in Cara's room, Erin was feeling the guilt bugs bite. While she hadn't exactly lied to her mother about why she was here, she hadn't been especially truthful about it either.
And then of course, there was Sue Cannon; the only member of the posse conspicuous by her absence tonight. All the other girls were here, including her fellow bunnies, Jill Pepper and Tawny Lloyd. Cara was present of course; this was her room. So was Erin's closest friend, the ever talkative Douglas squirrel Lisa Chatterton, sitting perched down the far bedpost. Rounding out the group was the young ferret Teri Blackburn. With Sue not here, she was the only predator in attendance.
As the daughter of a Sheriff's Deputy, Sue had refused to attend on principleâand had urged Erin, (kid sister of a police officer,) to do the same. Erin had responded by archly reminding the young bobcat that Conor had saved the life of that sister and a heated argument had ensued. Neither one of them had said anything they couldn't take back later, but the young bunny still felt bad about it now.
As if reading her thoughts Cara spoke up.
"I wouldn't feel too ba-a-ad bout Sue, bunny-girl. You know her; she never could curb that feline curiosity. Bet you ten bucks she's parked in front of her laptop right now, hoping her daddy doesn't find out."
Everyone laughed and Erin felt better. Yep, that was Sue all right.
Although it was mostly members of the younger generation planning to tune in to Conor's webcast, there were at least a few exceptions.
Case in point was taking place at a townhouse flat in Little Rodentia, where Melissa Van Ratten had come downstairs to grab some iced tea before turning in for the night.
Melissa, 'Missy' to her friends and family, was a third-year law student at Zootopia State University. She was a brown rat with glittering black eyes, and was something of a minor campus celebrity owing to her family connections.
She had just closed the refrigerator door when she heard the exasperated voice of her uncle, calling from the den.
"Missy, a little help in here?"
Melissa sighed, took a sip of her tea, and went to see what the matter was.
She found him seated in his big, overstuffed desk chair, wearing his big, oversized Japanese bathrobe and staring fixedly at a laptop display screen, as if mentally trying to bend it to his will. After a few more seconds of this, he turned a frustrated face in her direction.
"All right I give up; how do you get on this meshugenneh Futz-tube thing?"
Melissa couldn't help smiling. In a courtroom, her uncle Vernon might be master of all he surveyed, but stick him in front of a computer and he was like a rube at a carnival.
"It's FUZZtube, Uncle.' She corrected, motioning for him to get up, so that she could take over.
"You call it your name and I'll call it mine," Vernon J. Rodenberg groused vacating his seat for her.
Missy had been boarding with him for two years now, moving in after dorm life had finally become too much for her. (If she had a nickel for every time she'd nearly been stepped on...)
It had turned out to be one of the best moves she'd ever made. In return for her room and board she clerked part time for her Uncle Vernon, learning things at his feet that none of her professors could have taught her. Eventually she'd even managed to reconcile herself to the fact that he worked mostly as a mob lawyer. (Not so, her parents; they were barely on speaking terms with herâand not all with him.)
Seating herself at the computerâlike most rodent laptops this one was really just an upgraded flip phoneâMissy saw at once what her uncle had been looking for. The Conor Lewis livestream; now why the heck...?
She turned an eye upwards in his direction.
"What, now? I thought you said you'd washed your paws of that fox-kid."
Rodenberg didn't even bat a whisker.
"I have; he can go find a Public Defender for all I care when they catch him. But I still want to know, Missy...why, why did he go rabbit on me when we were going to beat this case?" He waved a paw at the computer-screen. "I was hoping this webstream or whatever you call it might give me at least part of an answer."
Missy smiled again. Still keeping her eyes on the computer screen, she reached up, felt for his paw and squeezed.
"Oh Uncle Vernon, how many times to I have to say it? Law isn't the only thing I've learned to read since I've been here..."
"All right so maybe I still care a LITTLE bit about that fuchs-kinder." the grey rat interrupted. His paw went up to tug at his collar before he remembered he wasn't wearing one.
Missy turned in her seat and looked up at him, entirely serious. "That's not what I meant; I know what you sound like when you're sure you have a case in the bagâand that wasn't what I heard just now."
Rodenberg let out a short hiss of breath and ground his incisors for a second.
Then he looked at her, speaking slowly and deliberately.
"If it were any other judge...and/ or any other prosecutor, then yeah, I would have been certain I could beat it, or at least relatively certain." His tail shivered slightly. "But with the Gold-Dust Twins, Schatten and Gamsbart running the show...honestly Missy, I don't know."
Now it was her turn to speak cautiously.
"You...think there's something funny going on with those two?" she asked, " Ummm, all right, what?"
Her uncle only raised a finger.
"Sorry kiddo, but not yet; not untilâand unlessâI get something more to go on than just my suspicions," he rolled his paw in the air. "Now how about finding me that webcast, huh?"
Missy sighed, and went back to work. That was another thing she'd learned from her time with uncle Vernon; whenever he got that look on his face, you KNEW you weren't getting anything else out of him. Dangit, was it hereditary, or just his manner of speaking? Well, whatever it was, now she was every bit as curious and confused as him. Why had the Lewis kid bolted...and what the heck did he think he was doing, making a live webcast?
It would have interested her to know that at that very moment, Conor was asking himself the same question...for the thousand-and-tenth time.
"What the heck am I doing?" he demanded rhetorically as he paced the floor of his loft, counting off the seconds like years. A part of him wanted to smack himself across the face a few hundred times; it was a little late NOW to be asking himself that question. Truth be told, it had been too late from the moment he'd hit the 'enter' key to post that video on Darkwing; at that instant he'd become committed.
"Yeah, and I aughta BE committed doing this," the young fox snarled, waving a paw upwards at the ceiling. What was he thinking, taking a risk like this, and for what? An idea that probably wouldn't work; heck, it for all he knew, it might even backfire.
But even as the thought went scrolling across his psyche, Conor knew that he at least had to try. What was happening in the streets outside could not go on. No! Stinkin'! Way!
He'd actually been ready to roll since 10 this morning, checking and re-checking to make sure everything was in good, working order. Honestly, though, there hadn't all that much needed in the way of preps. A stool to sit on, some sheets for a backdrop, get the twelve-string acoustic tuned up, set up the camera, mike, and remote, and he was good to go. The most time-consuming part of his preps had been setting up TAUR, but with the kind of hardware he had at his command that had taken all of a good half hour. It had all been way too easy.
Noooo, that wasn't quite true, was it? There was one other thing he'd need to get done before getting online tonight, something he'd been working on for nearly four days now. It had come to him one morning out of nowhere while he'd been putting the breakfast dishes away.
Conor had almost rejected the idea outright; there were only about a hundred other tunes he could use that would serve his purpose. Go with what you know; stick with the tried and true. The young silver fox must have told himself that at least a zillion times since thenâbut still the idea had refused to go away.
And in only a few long centuriesâexcuse me, short minutesâhe was going to find out if it had been worth the effort.
It might have given the fugitive young silver fox just a little bit of comfort to know he wasn't the only one feeling the slow crawl of time. Back at ZPD Precinct One, Dr. Robert Hind would not have been greatly surprised had he looked in a mirror and seen that his ears had gone gray.
11:30...11:40...11:45...11:50... At 11:55 everyone began gathering in front of the big, interactive display, set up in front of the bullpen's lectern. Dr. Hind found a chair in the second row, but before he could sit down, the chittering voice of Lieutenant Tufts intervened.
"Take a seat up front Doc; I want you to get a good look at this."
"Roger," the deer-buck answered, moving to the first row. He had actually been able to see just fine from where he was, but had no great desire to argue over something so trivial.
11:57...11:58...11:59...11:59:30...
And then the window on the display screen turned blue for a second and then white. No, wait there was something in the frame.
"What's that, a stool?" someone asked, and before any else could answer someone moved in front of the camera.
He was a young fox, dressed all in black, except for his face.
"What the devil's that then?" Chief Bogo was pointing at the screen, "What, is he trying to be a mime?"
The fox-kid's face was painted talcum-powder white.
It was Tufts who answered him.
"No...see the black lines there, above his lip, and on his chin...and that little touch of rouge on his cheeks? He's made up to look like Guy Fawxe."
"Then why not just wear a mask?" someone else asked, and this time it was Bogo who supplied the answer.
"Because he wants everybody to know it's him and not an imposter."
"IS that him?" Dr. Hind asked; he had never met Conor Lewis face to face.
Albert Tufts had, and he nodded tightly.
"Ohhhh yes...thaaaat's himmm all right." He drew out the words like taffy as he spoke and then turned swiftly to one of his techs, "Any luck?" he asked, in the lame voice of someone expecting a negative answer.
That was exactly what he got.
"Nope; just like we figured, he's using TAUR."
"TAUR?" Dr. Hind asked; he had never heard of such a thing.
"It's a dark web tool," Lt. Tufts explained, "a favorite of cybercrooks dealing in contraband, The Amazing Untraceable Router. That web cast went through something like thirty different servers before it got here, all of them off shore, and all of them on the Dark side of the web." He folded his arms, his expression turning asymmetrical, "In other words, just like the name says, it's untraceable."
While this revelation was hardly earth-shattering, it was met with several groans and growls, and a snort from Chief Bogo.
"So why wear make-up at all if he's...?" another animal started to ask, and was immediately shushed by the others. Conor was taking his place on the stool...and was that a guitar he had with him?
"Cor, looks like we're in for another serenade from Mr. Lewis," Chief Bogo observed wryly, sparking a ripple of snickers. He too, had instantly recognized the fugitive young silver fox.
He wasn't the only one. Nick and Judy had known it was him from the moment he appeared in front of the camera. Neither one of them had needed to ask why he was wearing makeup.
Missy Van Ratten did, and her uncle Vernon was obliged to give her a quick explanation.
"Notice how the rest of him is completely covered, except for his paws?" he told her, pointing at the screen, "And those paws weren't THAT dark the last time I saw him. My guess is he changed his fur color and doesn't want the cops to get a gander at his new look."
Missy turned and looked up at him again.
"You think?"
"I would," Rodenberg answered gruffly, unconsciously reminding her that he'd begun his law career from the inside of a prison cell.
But no one watching this evening recognized Conor more quickly than the young, white-furred bunny that had shared the stage with him at the Carrot Days talent show. And dangit, why had her heart skipped a beat when he appeared in front of the camera? Sweet! Cheeze! N'Crackers!
Her friends, however, weren't quite so sure.
"Is that him?"
"N-a-a-ah, that's not Conor."
"Yes it is Cara. That's him."
"Oh come on Terri, how would you know?"
"Hey, I was sitting less than five feet away from him on that rafting trip."
"I still don't think it's him."
"Well, let's ask Erin. Hey Erin..."
"That's him," she answered quietly, "That's Conor."
She was clutching a blanket and wringing it in her paws...holding it low in her lap so that the others couldn't see.
Then the young fox finally spoke. His voice was soft, almost silky.
"Good evening everyone and welcome to my live-stream. I want to send out a special greeting to my loyal fans...both of them."
He paused, smiled for effect, and then went on.
"I'm making this web-cast because I only just now found out about the graffiti that's being tagged all over town. You all know which graffiti I'm talking about, right?"
He did something with his paw and his face vanished momentarily from the screen, replaced by a piece of artwork on a wall somewhere, the by now familiar V-For-Vendetta fox-face, capped with the line, "He Fought The lawâAnd HE Won." It remained onscreen for several seconds and then disappeared again.
"That's not voice-control, he's using a remote." One of the techs in Precinct-1 observed.
"I bet he DOES have voice-control...but doesn't want us to know he has it," Lt. Tufts posited, folding his arms.
No one disagreed with him.
Conor, meanwhile, was talking again.
"Now the cops say that graffiti is ugly, irresponsible, and childish." His face crinkled puckishly, "Well yeah, but only if it's done right."
This was greeted by a few stifled snickers, but mostly groans, growls, and a snort from Chief Bogo. "You cribbed that line from Skunksy!" someone catcalled from the back of the room.
Dr. Hind scratched thoughtfully at an antler. It was one of the oldest principles of public speaking, loosening up the audience with a joke. And while that one might fall flat with John Law, with Zootopia's younger generation, it would be a different story entirely; laughs, whoops, and high fives all around.
"This fox-kid knows what he's doing," the deer-psychologist admitted to himself.
"Now I'm guessing a lot of animals are gonna think it's weird that I didn't find out about this until now." Conor was saying. "Wel-l-l-ll, you gotta remember something, I've been hiding out from the cops these last few weeks and that means keeping strictly to myself; it's almost like being in quarantine." He frowned for a second. "No-o-o-o let me walk that back a little. In quarantine, you can still surf the net. When you're wanted by the copsâespecially for any kind of cybercrime, you better stay the heck offline if you know what's good for you. Anyway, that's how come I didn't find out about that graffiti thing until right before I started work on that music vid."
"Okay, then why the heck are you getting online live this time?" Nick Wilde leaped up from his seat on the couch, unable to hold it back any longer.
"Nick take it easy," Judy reached up and pulled him back down again, "We'll find out in a minute I'm sure."
Or maybe it wouldn't even take that long.
"One thing I figured out right away is this," the young silver fox was saying, "That artwork isn't about me; it's not even about the City's new anti-vandalism thingâboy-howdy, there was real smooth move, guys. Noooo, I think it's really about something bigger; I think..." his words tapered off and he picked up the guitar from his lap, fastening the strap around a shoulder in a single fluid movement.
"Whoa, is he going to sing something?" Jill Pepper asked.
"No, dumb bunny, he's just showing off his guitar." Tawny Lloyd could say that because she was also a rabbit. She picked up a pillow and threw it. "Yeah, he's gonna sing somethingâDUH!"
"Hey, quit it you two, I want to hear this." Terri Blackburn chirred and the two bunnies fell quickly silent.
Erin Hopps was also saying nothing, only clutching the blanket even more tightly. Even so, a part of her couldn't help noting that Conor was playing his twelve string acoustic, not a six; was he finally getting down with that instrument?
On the screen, the young fox strummed few notes, twisted a tuning peg and strummed a few more.
Then he looked into the camera, letting out a long, soft breath. For the first time since beginning his webcast, he looked a tiny bit uneasy.
"Ohhh-kay, this is gonna be the first time I ever tried to play a tune that I wrote myself, so don't be too...Ahhh, let's just see how it goes."
He began to strum the guitar again; a lively quick-tempo folk-sounding melody, with just a touch of the blues. It wasn't a particularly complicated number, but then Conor was trying to play it on a twelve-string, an instrument he had only just learned to play.
Then he began to sing, his voice pure, almost silvery.
"Billy's in the burbs, with his folks down in Otterdam
Not the best neighborhood, but doing okay.
He graduated high with a three-six average
Hoped he'd get to be an engineer someday.
It's a year's gone by and he's still kicking back at home
Quit his job at Steerbucks coz the boss was a pain.
He never sent another college app or tried to get a loan
Never hit the streets, trying to look for work again
Now he lives by the spray-can, drawing pictures in the night
His parents don't know, but they know something ain't right
So one time Billy gets in, and it's way after two
There's his folks are on the couch, "Son, we need to talk to you."
He went into a bridge here, the temp switching from upbeat to imperative
"Billy you're a bright kid, the right kid, a smart kid, a hard kid
To keep down, when you're trying to chase up a dream."
So why aren't you trying, why are you hiding,
Why aren't you fighting to get that degree?"
A flourish of notes followed; the key changing from major to minor.
"Billy listens real polite and then he stands up and he sayyyyys.
'And then what?
Squashed like a bug by a killer student loan.
And then what?
Rent forever coz I can't afford a home.
And then what?
Live my life just like a Sisyphus drone.'
And then what?
And then what?
And then what?
And then what?
Sign my soul away the minute I get hired.
And then what?
Look the other way, or get my tail fired.
And then what?
Workin' free days when I'm dead, stinkin' tired.'
And then what?
And then what?
And then what?
And then what? "
Several fast licks followed and then came the refrain.
"'Never thinkin' for myself.
Break my back for someone else
Only do 'bout half as well as you've done.
It's hard to make a plan that you wanna get behind
When the future's so bright it's gonna make you go blind.
It's hard to build a life, find a reason to aspire
When you're so far underwater, it'll put out the fire...in your eyes
I'm so sick of all the lies.'
And then what?"
Conor went into a guitar solo here; a fast staccato, followed by an angry chord, and then repeated the process. On the last lick, he used the same technique Erin had seen him use back in Bunnyburrow, snapping his fingers against the strings like a whip.
She couldn't help thinking it; he really was starting to get the hang of playing a twelve string.
But he was only just starting, nonetheless.
He switched back to the original key and started singing again.
"Laura did two years at Zoo York University,
Took a summer break and she never went back.
She's waiting tables in Boarlando, maybe clerking in LA
She never calls or writes; it's had to keep track.
She never said why she quit, though there was something 'bout a guy
And 'why won't anybody listen to me?'
Now, she lives for the party life, spend everything you got
Thinks there might be a better way but probably not
It's after three on the clock when she gets in from a rave
There's her mom on the couch, and she's trying to look brave."
He went into a variation of the first bridge, this time using the 'whip finger technique repeatedly.
And then...
'"Laura, you're a bright girl, the right girl, a smart girl a hard girl
To keep down when you're trying to chase up a dream.
"Why did you give up, why won't you live up
To everything you know you can be?'"
Laura's eye get wet, and then they turn red
And then she stands up and she sayyyyyyys
'And then what?
Job gets oursourced, if The Mammal wants to sell.
And then what?
My supervisor gets to make my life a Hell
And then what?
Go through that again, blacklisted if I tell.'
And then what?
And then what?
And then what?
And then what?
Bottom falls out, the first time that I get sick.
And then what?
Be the best, but the Mammal's bud gets picked.
And then what?
Never give me peace til they know that I'm licked.
And then what?
And then what?
And then what?
And then what?"
Another solo followed; Conor played like fox possessed before hitting the refrain.
"Never thinkin' for myself.
Break my back for someone else
Only do a third as well as you've done.
It's hard to make a plan that you wanna get behind
When the future's so bright it's gonna make you go blind.
It's hard to build a life, find a reason to aspire
When you cry so many tears they're gonna put out the fire...in your eyes.
I'm so sick of all the lies."
Leaving the refrain behind, Conor went into another guitar solo, more or less more of them same...but he was beginning to tire, and flubbed it a couple times Erin noticed. Hmmmm, maybe he should have stuck to a six string after all, instead of getting on a twelve; he'd improved since last she'd heard him, but he still had a long way to go.
But then again, this tune was more about the words than the music...
"And then what?
And then what?
And then what?
And then what?
And then what?
And then what?
And then what?
And then...WHAT!"
The song ended on a slashing chord, and three fast licks. Conor nodded briely to his unseen audience for and then set his guitar aside. When he tried to sit up again he couldn't quite make it, falling forward into a semi-hunch, holding up a paw for patience while he tried to catch his breath.
"He reminds me of that statue," Erin thought to herself., unable to take her eyes off the spent young silver fox, "Darnit, what was it called again? Oh, yeah; The Dying Gaul."
Comments(0)
Join the discussion — sign in to leave a comment
Sign In to CommentNo comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts!