Freaks

Paulie Panda and Billy have not seen each other in years. They have got grudging official permission for a reunion.  Lots of water under the bridge with many companions long gone.  Today is a day for seeing the sights and enjoying each other's company.  A lunch of blueberry sandwiches washed down with FuzzyBubbles* was as welcome as could be. When these two were young and immortal, they relished the darkness.  Now as Billy stares towards the west he feels anxiety at the coming of night.  He does not know why.  Paulie is better adjusted and knows his friend is prone to introspection and depression.  But this extremely tough ursid has his moments of terror, along with intrusive memories that are always there.  Once the little rabbit tried to prove himself over and over to the ENfantry of their old unit*, even after it became flagrantly unnecessary.  Since this translated into great professionalism such an attitude worked for everyone.  But those of inherently happy nature have troubles when the intensity is gone.  

These two used to really be good at their jobs!  But Billy is a rabbit with almost no friends, and Paulie has just been going through the motions of living, taking everything a day at a time.  He cannot bear the thought of losing anyone else.

It is time to head for the house and hoist a few.  The next few hours will be an escape for them both.

*1).  Carbonated fruit juice and Dextroamphetamine++.  All former ENfantry live for it, both of them.  Sold only under license but widely abused.  Eventually lethal to non enhanced humans, and immediately addictive.  Big business loves it, and who cares about level 4 citizens anyway?  Plenty more where they came from. 

*2).   Enhanced Anthropomorphic Footsoldier program, now cancelled.

At the house, a cool onshore breeze and a few cold ones lead to reflection.  One of the things about Billy is that the violence and near death in his life has had no impact on  his personality.  He knows that whatever he has experienced is nothing compared to some of the things he reads about.  Omaha beach, to name just one.  Billy is reflective and often sad because he feels himself a failure.

Paulie does have scars, inside and out, but he never talks of this.  He knows that his rabbit friend is bothered because he is a natural neurotic, not a victim.  Billy knows how strong a personality the panda has, and this makes him even more regretful.  How he wishes he could be like the stolid bear!  But he is unaware of Paulie's inner landscape, because he takes him at face value.  The
 bunny thinks that everyone is a better person than he is.

I started this and then stopped because of, well, just about everything about it.

Here the rabbit drinks alone.  A little more and he will begin to think that he is one hell of a fellow!  After all -

Then the world seemed none so bad,
And I myself a sterling lad.

The soldiers he used to serve with were much tougher and stronger than he was.  Enhancement only works on natural aptitudes, and strength was not deemed important for his assignment.  His attribute was speed.  Billy always wanted to be strong and tall like the others, he worked hard trying to impress them.  Most of them were great, strapping cats and wolves, and there was a big panda who was quiet and professional.   Tonight they were lying flat under the stars, and most were dead.  Their Command Timberwolf looked very fierce as he glared in the direction of the attack, but his body was missing, not that the rabbit or anyone else was looking. The hidden Grasscutter© caught the platoon as they were starting to sprint for the attack.  Private Bunny was out front as point due to his tremendous speed and small stature.  There was no sound or light, just the bursts of protoplasm transformed at light speed into steam. Apparently someone had touched off a hidden tripfield.  His life was saved, for the moment, because of his moving in leaps that carried him beyond the traverse of the robot projector. The primed contact grenade he was holding did not activate due to the rabbit's nervous tension and extreme caution in handling high explosive.  Cpl. Fox, W., Heavy Weapons, arched his back in an dying reflex.  Battlefield relays engaged and his bowed body became so much red vapor.  Billy was doggo in a depression caused by a dead soldier that had evaporated into the ground, leaving a small declension.  He had the nasty burned sand pressed up against his eyes but that was a mere annoyance given the situation at hand.  His nose twitched.   There is one chance to get out of this and that is what he was waiting for.

    The slight clicking of pedal units on rocks and wire indicated that the sweepers were out, making sure that all survivors were dealt with.  With the autonomic spiders quartering and scanning the ground, the area denial primary had been stood down.  Billy's only option, the thing that had been drilled into him over and over, was to run before he was discovered and the tripfield could be reactivated.  If he was seen by the sweepers he would die.  Just as he was going to spring up and go for it, he heard someone breathe.  Cutting his eyes, he saw that the big panda lying next to him was regaining consciousness.  The remains of a exploded canteen on the front of his shredded body armor explained the bear's survival.  The rabbit had assumed he was dead, not that he spent much time thinking about it.  If the panda moved, groaned, or opened his eyes quickly they would both die.  Already the metal animates were in life elimination protocol.  Then the panda moved his hand, very slightly.  His index finger cocked in an imitation of squad hand signals.  I am aware of what has happened.  I have no chance, and you must run.  I will draw their attention.  Billy was impressed.  No one had ever put him first, never.  Well, he decided, I'm going to die anyway.  I can show class too.  The bear had his eyes open, eye really, just that bit.  Billy was going to make his move.  If the other soldier did not comprehend or react they would both die.  The bunny heard a sweeper moving toward them.  Only it's anti-mine programming had kept it moving slow enough to be visible in the night and pulpy steam.  Sweepers usually moved very fast.  Well, thought Billy, so do I.  He rolled over and threw the grenade toward the machine just as it leaped and caught him with it's underbody spike.  The point tore into his face and the rabbit fell as the drug carried him into death.
     Billy awoke to a black and white orb in his vision.  He went under again.  Days later he found out that the panda was named Paulie and had carried him back from the front.  Sgt. P. Panda had moved as soon as the rabbit did.  With his good hand he had swept the shattered machine off the unconscious bunny, lifted him over his shoulder and ran like hell for cover.  As he saw from the corner of his eye the other sweepers flatten out he dived for the base of a coil of razor wire.  It was not much but it was enough.  The energy bolts swept the ground and several casualties exploded.  The sensor brain, satisfied by this, switched off the area field again so the sweepers could finish up, and they did.  This is what Billy was told although neither of the two remembered much of their escape.  At some point the Sgt. must have applied atropine to the unconscious bunny but how and where is anyone's guess.  As it turned out the attack at Forlorn Hope was a decoy and a deliberate sacrifice.  It worked like a charm and the battle was won, and with it the war.  At this point Billy wakes up if he was ever asleep, and he may not have been.  Time for a cigarette and a cup of coffee.  Billy likes to watch the sun return every morning.  He will sit outside and let his sweaty fur dry into patches of salt, which he will comb out later.  Modified rabbits do sweat, you know.  The birds were starting their songs and the coffee tasted great with nicotine.  Billy is ready for the day again.  Sometimes he is so scared in the morning he thinks about the orphanage, not his favorite place to go.  Rain coming, he thought as he looked at the sky.  Billy dislikes darkness.
     Although politicians and the high command denied it, the Enhanced Anthropomorphic Footsoldier program was created primarily to reduce casualties among human soldiers.  The ENfantry were so many slaves.  Billy cannot vote or travel without a passport under any circumstances.  Precautions, he has been told.  Rules, Mr. Bunny, our hands are tied.  This is for your safety and that of others.   Thanks for nothing, thinks the rabbit, I should have deserted to the enemy.  Except, of course, that the enemy offered huge rewards for bringing in the head of an anthro, and being taken alive was not to be thought about.
     Underpeople are feared and hated by humans, who are unaware that there are almost none left.  Politcos are constantly promising their detention and ultimate removal.  The beast men are an exceptionally useful threat to the American Way Of Life, so the fear of them is stoked.  Churches preach against them.  Late night comedians thrive on underperson mockery.  There are entire bookstores specializing in Anthro porn, all costumed human actors.  Transitioned humans are not capable of sexual activity, and there are no admitted females living.  Billy no longer remembers what life as a man was like, it is all a dream.  He does not know his birth name or race or mother.  He lights another cigarette.  He has no memory of how he wound up in the program, but the usual alternative was death.  Maybe, he thought, it is just as well.  I don't need any more guilt.
      A thunderstorm was coming and the sun hid behind the clouds.  The rabbit went inside and climbed down into the small hideaway he had dug.  He pulled the crudely made hatch shut above him.  He began to shake uncontrollably, and cry.

In the post following this in sequence but that was posted first, I make it clear that the beast men are born anthropomorphic.  This is because my mythos of talking human animal hybrids starts off with an escaped human specific weaponized virus, no one knows from where, long before current written history.  Certain suitable animal stock was blended with the human genome in order to preserve as much of the cerebral cortex as possible.  Of course, no human lived to see the rise of the Thinking Animals, they were wiped out within a few years after the pathogen got loose.  Evolution favored the ten digit biped, and the failure of the countless variations of the human strain is heartbreaking and beyond sad.  In this post I posit a drug assisted surgical transformation, essentially human combined with animal attributes.  American society at the point my story takes place in makes Imperial Rome look like Fiddler's Green.  In short, this post takes place slightly in our future but my others are from millions of years in the Anthropomorphic future.  The lack of reproductive ability is a deliberate design.  What Billy does not know is that the weapon that wiped out most of his unit was ours, and the slaughter was deliberate.  The two survivors were spared because the press got hold of the story, so command made the two into heroes.  They are also prisoners at large.  The enhancement program has been cancelled and most of the scientists involved have died untimely and curious deaths.  

(I like furry art but I am very Sci/Fi oriented and I need an explanation for such an unnatural phenomenon.  What a shame I am not a better writer).

Oh yeah.  Billy does not remember but he was no older than 16 when he was condemned to the ENfantry.  His crime was showing far too much initiative and intelligence for a level four orphan.  He has been allowed to think that he is a vile criminal in order to keep him grateful.  All of the anthros were treated the same.  The level of suicide and madness among the program vets was so high that once the (current) war was settled it was decided to scrap the lot.  After all, the deliberate murder of our own soldiers was a capital crime, not that any ordinary police could do anything about it.

It is a brave new world indeed.

Underpeople, human/animal hybrids, is a concept first put about by Cordwainer Smith.  They are slaves with no rights.  Many are sports stars and entertainers.  They can be and are killed with impunity.

The anthropomorphic animal thing has been around for a very long time.  Why create when I can steal?