Let Us Cross Over The River And Rest Under The Shade Of The Trees

Prologue

  Benvento Cellini wrote that 'All men of whatsoever quality they be, who have done anything of excellence, or which may properly resemble excellence, ought, if they be persons of truth and honesty, to describe their life with their own hand'. 
Of course, Cellini was a genius artist and a psychopath who had something to say.  I'm not even a man, not anymore.  I have never been one, the Transition took place when I was a boy, I no longer remember my human body or appearance.  Hell, I no longer remember anything before the war, just the endless training and the soldiers I served with.  I was younger than the others, most of them were condemned to the Enhanced Infantry program, I was part of the 'Operation Ten Thousand'*, which took orphans and juvenile delinquents and bound them over to the Combat Modification program.  Of course, nothing like 10,000 went through the process, I think I was in the last group selected.  After a battalion of about 600 modified battlefield units was created the program was put on hiatus.  I now know that the program was halted and it had been decided to use what the army already had in the way of altered infantry, meaning use until destruction.  When training was completed I was shipped to the front, I was the only member of my class to be deployed.  I don't know what happened to my fellow recruits.  I do know that I was one of two rabbit scouts, the others were mostly of carnivore stock and selected for intelligence and ferocity.  I never saw the other rabbit soldier, he was killed shortly before I arrived while looking for enemy snipers.  After the war me and the one other survivor of our unit were pensioned off and resettled into civilian life, why on earth the higher ups decided that a modified human rabbit could fit into society is beyond me, although I have my suspicions.

I mowed the yard although it was a hot summer day, while I do sweat my fur traps heat so I must be careful.  The grass had grown up over two of my cat's gravestones, they are up against the fence and I can never get all the grass mowed there.  I decided to leave them that way for now, after all I know where they are and it doesn't matter if anyone else does.   I could hear children playing in the vacation rental house's yard on the other side of the bamboo wall, nothing like childhood memories of sunny beaches and endless water as far as the eye could see.  I pretend that I have such recollections.  I quit mowing and sat on the back porch and drank cold tea from a thermos.  The hummingbirds fought over their feeders, although there was plenty to go around the little bastards are mindlessly territorial and guard those bottles with their lives.  Just because something is cute don't make it pleasant.  There was light classical music on the NPR station I listen to and all in all it was a very nice afternoon.  A soccer ball bounded over the bamboo and landed by my feet.  I picked it up to throw it back but a boy and girl had already ducked through the gap in the fence and were standing in front of me looking a bit shocked.
"Please, mister, can we have our ball back"?  the boy asked and the girl said "You're a rabbit".  I handed her the ball and replied, "Yes, I do look like a bunny", and the boy said "Cool"!  I would have talked with them more but I could see what I took to be their father watching us through the bamboo.  "Go on now", I said to them, "have fun".  The man watched as the kids ducked back through the fence and disappeared without saying a word.  I have been told that those who rent that house are briefed on me so there is no surprise.  Did I once have a sister?  Or a dad and mom?  How wonderful to have family.  I drank the last of the tea and went inside to feed my cats. 
MeeMee was furious that she had to wait so long for her supper and Precious tripped me in the kitchen by winding around my feet.  Today was tuna day, I give them both something like that once a week.  I took a shower, the sweat crusts on my fur so I like to wash that off, I dislike the feel of water on my skin but I also dislike being a slob.  I dried off and put on a pair of shorts that would be regarded as rags by Robinson Crusoe.  I wasn't hungry so I went back to the porch and lit a cigarette, I'm a nicotine fiend.  I would blame that on my army experiences but I suspect that I'm a weak willed degenerate.  Two hummingbirds sat on branches 8 feet apart and planned their next fight.  Evening is the best time here, the breeze of the water freshens and the heat subsides.  The family behind me was grilling something for their dinner, the smell of roasting meat makes me uncomfortable so I went inside and turned on the television.  I usually avoid news programs so I watched some bad cartoons for awhile before dozing off.  When I awoke with a shock I reached for my rifle before remembering where I was.  I picked Precious up off my lap and got a bottle of wine and went back to the porch.  I watched the stars and the crescent moon while listening to the radio.  I could hear the possum eating the outdoor cat's food and wished him/her good luck, I am fond of the wild animals.  There was a little fox that would jump the fence and eat said catfood, I quit putting it out at night because he should not be around humans, man means death to such creatures and he needed to get out of the habit of scavenging human residences.  I haven't seen him in some time.  I remember Cpl Fox being evaporated by a hidden weapon and how much that sickened me.  I could still smell the barbecue from next door but the night breeze shoved most of the odor away.  I would have broke out my guitar but lately I have had a real 'why bother' attitude so I just drank and chain smoked.  When it was time to sleep I locked all 3 locks on the back door, and then turned on all the lights in the house.  Why I bothered with the locks was purely psychological, a determined attacker could get through any of the windows fast enough that I would not have time to react unless I was very lucky.  That day was coming but it wasn't here yet.
I went to bed and dreamed of a sunny day in the park while playing with someone I could not see well, but we were happy together.  I'm only happy in dreams, still, happy is happy wherever you find it.  Tomorrow I will go shopping at the corner store, most people there are used to me by now and are usually friendly.
Usually.

But First They Must Catch You

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, F., 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?

 

Poem quote A. E. Housman, Terence This Is Stupid Stuff

 

The Bunny's Easter

I went to the late service at Coastal Oaks Baptist Church.  I was wearing a suit and tie, most everyone else were in sport shirts and cotton.  I also had one of my fedoras on, between that and the dark pinstripe I looked like I had just walked off the set of The Asphalt Jungle, bunny version.  I have a friend at that church who plays guitar in their band, they are very good although the music is Adult Contemporary Christian, I would prefer a more rock and roll sound but it ain't my church.  The sermon was on the book of Luke, I didn't know that Luke was an investigator and not a disciple.  I think the Methodists have been holding out on me.  So that is where 'the road to Emmaus' comes from.  However the minister could not stop talking about how this proves that Jesus died for us... er,...mankind, I regard that as a given and wanted to hear more about Luke.  After that and more music my friend baptized his youngest son, there was a tank hidden out of view below the cross in the front of the church, I had never seen immersion baptism before.  After the service I gave the boy 5 bucks, I had six on me so the church got a dollar.  These are the friendliest people I have ever met in a group and they do a lot for the community.  That is the second Easter I have spent at that church.  I would almost be tempted to join except for my doubts about the whole story and opposition to baptism, mine was done when I was a few days old and I got saved at a Billy Graham revival in Dallas when I was too young to say no so I got that going for me.  The orphanage sucked.  I had a good time at that service and no one looked at me strangely as is usual because I cut holes in the hat to fit it over my ears.  Those people are terrific, I even sat across the aisle from a gay couple wearing just the best shoes I have ever seen, I had no idea that the Baptists were so tolerant.  As a sentient weapon declared redundant I have to register with the police and most restaurants won't allow me in, so kindness from others is always surprising.  I have been told that Jesus does not love rabbits in any case, when I asked about the Easter Bunny thing I had to grab the guy's fist from the air and tell him never to do that again.  After I got out of the ENfantry mothers will pull their children inside when I walk down the street and once one told the little girl to bring her dog as well.  But that church is real nice to me and strangers will invite me to sit beside them.  Since this is Texas most everyone was heeled and I noticed the preacher unbuttoned his coat when I came up to shake his hand.  I can see why those people don't worry about me.

Ubi Est Deus Nunc?

It was cold this morning.  Usually here on the coast January is mild, but we are used to hot weather so 40 degree temperatures are a reason to bundle up with seldom used coats and wool hats.  Because of my fur I don't get that cold, but my ears are sensitive to cool wind and, of course, they are the hardest things for me to keep warm.  I pull a stocking cap down over them so that they lay flat against my head, awkward but it does work.  I thought I would go fishing today, the water is only 60 feet or so from the front door so it is not a big trip.  I cannot wear waders because of the tail and my feet, so I thought I would just stay on the shore and cast fish. 
Around here anything will work for bait, I like using slab bacon as it stays on the hook and the crabs and little trash fish have a much tougher time taking it off, shrimp disappears as fast as you can throw your line in the water.  I use hooks without barbs, I hate to cause pain to anything and much of the fish I catch are too small to keep.  I rarely keep fish I catch, I like the thrill of them fighting the line and reeling in a good sized eating fish.  While I can eat meat, it doesn't taste right and is too heavy.  Broiled fish is light and tasty but a lot of trouble to make, cleaning fish is messy and the sight of all that flips my stomach.  But if I catch an eater I have a neighbor or two that likes fresh fish, so I have some fun and they get a meal that costs quite a bit these days in stores.  But the whole point of fishing is disengaging my brain while I do something that is automatic to me, I find that refreshing.  There is an expression, too drunk to fish.  This is a joke, there is hardly anyone who can get into such a state.  In my case it is too distracted to fish, I have a lot of problems and feel alienated always, so when I do feel like going to the water it is a rare treat for me.  I fed Meemee and Precious before I left, I never know what will happen when I go into public areas.  I leave a lot of dry food and water where they can get to it, cats can survive just fine for days and who knows what I may run into out in the world.  One thing that is not going to happen is anyone trying to pick a fight with me, that doesn't happen often but it does happen and I get in trouble everytime.  I have decided I will run first, a novel idea and one that I dislike.  But I was modified for speed and I hate it when I have to talk to the police and my case officer every time I defend myself, it has been made clear that my freedom to live in society depends on not getting into conflict with regular citizens.  Why someone has not just shot me I don't know, I doubt they would get into much trouble and living as I do among hunters and other killers I think it is just a matter of time.  Probably because rabbits are regarded as harmless and cute I have to deal with so many jerks that think I'm a doormat, that a two legged variety is designed that way for combat survival does not seem to enter their heads.
I walked outside with my creel and rod, I locked the door then crossed the street to the water.  Although it was cold and blustery I was wearing only a shirt and pants, the weather felt great.  My ears were not cold although them laying flat alongside my face felt strange.  The occasional car went by, a lot of people drive golf carts but those guys are usually locals, and they know about me.  It is legal for children to drive those carts on the streets here and I often find myself talking to a cart full of excited kids, lots of fun for me but that has caused problems in the past.  Many people think that a rabbit has nothing but sex on it's mind and are unaware that modified humans are incapable of such activity.  Like I said, talking to kids can lead to confrontation that I don't need or want.
I baited my hook and threw it in the water.  A formation of bombers could be seen high in the sky, the contrails like so many chalk lines on a blackboard.  I see more of them everyday.  I used to hide when I saw military vehicles but I have gotten used to them, after all I'm a civilian with nothing to worry about.  Anymore.
I felt the tugging on the line almost instantly and would jerk back with the rod but with no success.  This is not an ideal fishing spot but it is popular with the locals, easy to pull over and just cast your line in.  It reminds me of the story of the drunk looking for his keys under a streetlamp far away from where he lost them because the light is better there.  Since I didn't care whether or not I caught anything I found my thoughts drifting back to the war.  I remember once when I was searching a supposedly dead enemy soldier and he tried to detonate a grenade.  When searching a face down corpse you approach from the head and put a knee on the soldier's back, and shove your hands under his body in case of such an event.  This keeps you from being kicked and pins his trunk to the ground.  In this instance the grenade was gripped by the edge of his chest and it popped out and exploded.  I saw it flip free of the soldier's body armor and swatted it faster than I could think, such reflexes were part of my desired attributes.  The bomb went off only a few feet away, but my entire squad had turned their helmets and armor toward it and we suffered only a few shell fragment injuries, nothing serious.  Of course I broke the soldier's neck.  Our command timberwolf barked an order and we moved on to clear the rest of the area.  I received a note in my file commending my actions.  This was only a week before our unit was wiped out on H. Q.'s orders, I think that the Enhanced Infantry scared hell out of our politicians.  The war was almost over and re-introducing us to society would be nothing but trouble, as I have found out.  Because Paulie and I survived the ambush at Forlorn Hope the press made heroes of us, so the government must move cautiously when they decide to finish the job.  Guaranteed my death will be announced as an accident.

I snapped out of it, the war is nothing but horror to me and such memories kept me from sleeping well.  I packed up my gear and walked across the road to home.  My kitties were complaining loudly about my abandonment of them so I got them their supper.  I cracked a beer and watched TV for awhile, the news channels were all over about the provocative actions of Canada.  I doubt any of that was true, the government needed a distraction from the latest scandal of cabinet members selling secrets and screwing children.  Since this was hardly news I watched some old Warner Brothers cartoons and laughed like I was 7 years old.  Before I went to sleep I turned on most of the lights in the house, I could hear the jets thunder overhead as I drifted off.  I didn't dream at all and awoke actually looking forward to another day.

                         Sometimes I wonder when and how it will happen, the suspense is killing me.

Again

 It was a lovely Saturday and I decided to go into town.  Most people here are used to me by now but as this is a resort there are many tourists and I get a lot of stares.  I parked in an alley by Main Street and walked as unobtrusively as possible to the little ice cream trailer by the Daily Grind, a great coffee shop.  I bought a strawberry sugarcone and tipped the cost of the treat, I've got plenty of money and not many places to spend it.  Then someone grabbed my shoulder and spun me around, I hit him twice before he could follow through with his punch.  Speed was the desired attribute assigned to me for Transition, the faster something moves the slower it appears to me.
Next thing I remember I was on the ground being kicked.  "Stay away from decent people, animal, don't show up around here again", a voice said off in the red distance.  Those guys were laughing as they walked away.  The tourists were standing around and not saying anything, I got to my feet and limped back to my truck.  I knew the cops would be coming by to fuss at me and I wanted to get cleaned up before they arrived.  The police are almost in the same boat as I am, all military and all drafted into the job.  Veterans of the last conflict are viewed with extreme suspicion by the government, soldiers develop their own attitude towards authority.  I threw my shirt away and showered, normally water makes my fur matted but I wanted to get the blood off.  When the cops showed up they were pleasant enough but we both knew the incident would not be reported, if someone kills me it will save the government a lot of trouble.  Anyway, they said they'd look into it, kind of them to say anything at all.  Then one asked if he could shake my hand and I shook hands with them both, I almost felt human again.
That night I sat on the porch and drank wine from a plastic cup and fumed.  In a fair fight there isn't a human alive that can take me, I may be small but speed is everything in war.  I thought of going to see my neighbor retired Sergeant Major Warden but I saw that he had guests and for all I know his courtesy is just that, courtesy.  I must have nodded off because I opened my eyes and it was morning, a humming bird darted across the porch and I picked up the cup and the empty bottle and went inside.  Broad daylight is not a good time for me.

 

(Today these two will swim and drink and fish, tonight they will watch the glorious skyscape that paints the night with stars and planets and all that space has to offer, the Gulf will shine and the velvet blackness will be emblazoned as by diamonds thrown against darkness.  Paulie thinks that is fitting for him and his friend, their lives are pinpricks of light against an eternity awaiting them.  Paulie is very poetic.  Billy doesn't mind nighttime as long as his only friend is with him.

But for now it is time to enjoy this brief moment... a very brief moment indeed.

The fighting is over, little bunny, time to go home, you ain't wanted or needed.  Adios).

Shadow Puppet

 

Today was cloudy.  I got out of bed late, I had trouble sleeping last night as usual.  My cats were complaining about their late breakfast so I wrapped a sheet around me and went to get them their food.  After putting the portions in bowls I set them before each of them and got out of their way.  Ever since my boy cat Beau died I have more leisure in the morning to feed the kitties, that big bundle of love would intertwine my feet and figure 8 around them so that I could barely walk.  As I have very large feet this would cause me to stumble.  He was so affectionate that I would lock him out of the kitchen while I made coffee, I use a French press so I have to boil water.  This morning the blood had crusted around my nose where the big guy punched me at the guitar show yesterday, it hurt like hell and I was going to have to bleach my sheets when I washed today.  As I poured my first cup of coffee Meemers left her food in a huff, she does not like the cheap canned type which was all I had.  Precious moved over to her bowl and started eating it with alacrity. 
I turned on the radio and sat on the porch with my coffee and cigarette, the news was depressing and there was a story on the new move underway to forbid modified humans to live in cities.  As Paulie and I are the only ones left that I know of I wondered what brought this up.
"Stay away from my kid, rabbit, or next time I'm going to hurt you".  The punch had almost knocked me out and although the crowd of people around me seemed shocked I noticed that no one was helping me up.  The man who hit me walked away with the little girl, she was the one that came up to me and asked if I was the Easter Bunny, I bent down to hear her better when I found myself on my back in the wet grass.  I didn't know what happened at first.
I picked myself up and got in my car and left.  Too bad, the man on the guitar was a local genius who could play almost any type of music imaginable, he had just finished one of my favorite rockabilly pieces when I got knocked down.  I thought I could mix with the others as I have had no problems with real humans in several months, I thought wrong.  I drove home and checked the mail box, nothing except some flyers and a reminder to check in with my case officer on Monday.  I threw all of that away and went inside to get a beer and a towel for my bleeding nose.  The last time this happened my assailant grabbed both my ears and one of them tore, I guess I got lucky and was spared that problem, again.
The yard behind me was being mowed, the man mowing waved to me and I waved back.  It seems that the lower on the social scale someone was the easier they found it to accept me.  In spite of my medal and the glowing news stories of my old unit I get no credit for trying, most people ignore me when I go out in public.  I gave up explaining that I was as human as they are, the modifications happened in a laboratory for the needs of the front line.  It did not help that the government announced that all the modified warriors were criminals who volunteered for the program instead of serving long prison sentences or being executed, something I did not find out was a lie until a fairly short time ago.  I used to think that I should shoot myself for being such an awful person.  Of course I don't own a gun.
When the last attacker grabbed and tore my ear I almost killed him, I had been modified with the rabbit strain to enhance my speed and no normal human can swap punches with me.  I was very angry and only because someone knocked me out with a fence post did that individual get away with his life.  My case officer bailed me out and delivered an hour long lecture on tolerance and lawbreaking to me, that I was in very hot water for being a bully and was very lucky, this time, to stay out of isolation.  That scared me and I promised not to hurt anyone again.
I got another cup of coffee and watched the mockingbird defend his territory around the pool.  The pool was part of the house and a lot of people were upset when such a desirable vacation property was given to me, but the location was dictated by the nearness of the police and the relative isolation I would have if I stayed in the back yard.  As I understand it the former owner had died in the house and was not discovered for months, so it had been on the market untouched for several years.  I have never noticed anything amiss except for a large dark stain on the floor in front of the bathroom.  I've seen worse.
I looked at the sunflowers I planted on Beau's grave and then started crying.  I miss him very much and it has been a difficult week.  I hope no one saw me, weakness is shameful to me.  Sometime today I have to go grocery shopping at the one store I am allowed in, what with my swollen nose and red eyes I was going to be just that bit more conspicuous.  When I got through with that I thought I would work on the guitar I am trying to fix, it needs sanding before I varnish it.  I will watch the sun go down over the water as I pet my kitties, and maybe tonight I will dream again of what could be.
I wish I had someone to talk to, I guess I ain't so tough.

Oh, well.  Even the weariest river winds somewhere safe to sea.

 

 Dreams are what I have left.

(Garth Williams, The Adventures Of Benjamin Pink}

Not With A Whimper

This morning was cool and wet.  We had just been through a cold snap, laughable to those up north but hard on us here in the Coastal Bend, we just ain't used to real wintertime.  I was drinking coffee and standing on my back porch watching the ibises and cranes pick through the grass looking for their breakfast.  As all the lizards would be lethargic and hunkered down I imagine it was insects and no more for those birds to eat.  I saw one ibis get two small snakes in a few seconds, I was surprised that any would be out and about this day.  I am fond of the reptiles but we would certainly be overrun with a exponentially increasing lizards unless they were culled by predators.  Lizards and snakes are predators as well so nature evens out in it's cold conclusions.  I had the radio on and was listening to the latest reports of the buildup to (another) war.  The only thing that worried me was that as a unique bio weapon I might be called up to serve.  Refusal would certainly end my freedom and I would be forced to go anyway.  I wondered how my friend Paulie was taking this news.  The radio announcer was breathless, giddy almost, at the idea of deploying troops to another unnecessary conflict but these types of people applauded anything the current incompetent administration did as opposed to the doings of the last incompetent administration.  I thought the whole thing a distraction and an obvious one from the scandal ridden bureaucrats who wielded the reins of power without check, none of them or their families would be on the front lines.  Of course I am an enlisted, er...person so my opinion counts for nothing.  I flipped my cigarette at the nearest crane and went inside.
     It being winter I had moved my stained glass bench into the spare bedroom, I could keep the doors locked so my kitties didn't get glass splinters in their feet.  I was working on a largish panel depicting the martyrdom of John the Baptist, all that blood added color to the dull greens and blues I was using as a metaphor, for what I don't remember just now.  Of course there are those who might object to a saint shown as a rabbit, but no one will see this in any event and it kept me happy to do something creative other than pacing and chain smoking.  I use pliers and old fashioned Red Devil glass cutters, no grinders or self oiling equipment for me, too much trouble for no improvement in the results.  What matters is what the viewer sees, not the edges beneath the lead.  I have to dip the cutter in linseed oil each time I use it, this gets the fur on my hands slick with oil and is a considerable irritation.  I could paint the details in but that would require a kiln so I prefer to use copper foil to do small things like faces or words.  After cutting a particularly tricky piece I heard my cats scratching on the door and realized it was already lunchtime.  I made sure that I had not left my soldering iron on, again, and went into the kitchen after closing and locking the room door behind me, Meemers can open sliding doors and will do so just out of sheer devilry.  Most people don't feed cats 3 times a day but I am excessively fond of them and spoil them something outrageous.  I had just put out two bowls of tuna and was thinking of chopping up an apple and some walnuts to make tuna salad when there came a knock on the front door.  I covered the bowl with a saucer and went to see who was there.  I opened the door and it was a young lady with UPS that had a package I needed to sign for.  She jumped a bit when she saw me but was otherwise very courteous and professional.  I waved good bye to her and went back inside to see what this surprise was.  It was from Paulie in Chicago, I thought it strange that he hadn't mentioned anything like this to me, we talked only a couple of days ago.  The big Panda was taciturn to a fault but I would still have expected a heads up. 
The package was about the size of a chess set and was fairly heavy, the postage had been very expensive.  To say the least I was intrigued, so using a knife that was laying about I slit open the tape and then decided that I needed my glasses.  I stepped away from the couch and started for the kitchen when I found myself facedown on the floor, I wondered what had happened.  There was total silence and the house was full of smoke and flame.  I shook my head and tried to stand but lost my balance and fell against the wall.  I pushed away and grabbed a fire extinguisher and proceeded to foam down the living room.  Glass from the shattered TV screen crunched beneath my bare feet and I could hardly see because of the torrent of blood flowing into my eyes.  I could see Precious arching her back and yowling but I couldn't hear her.  I managed to pick her up and lock her in my bedroom and I guess that's when I passed out.
The feds told me at the hospital that when I cut the tape that I had not completely broke the circuit of the bomb's trigger, that Meemers must have clawed the loose paper and set off the charge.  When I got back to the house nothing had been cleaned up or changed so I had to bury what was left of Mischa in the back yard by Beau.  My skull hurt where something had smashed into it, I'm sure I looked a sight with half my head shaved and all those stitches running across my face.  Someone must have let Precious out of the bedroom because she was not anywhere to be found.  I wasn't hungry so I poured a glass of wine and sat on the back porch and watched the sun go down.  The house faces east so I cannot watch the sun sink into the Gulf.  I never sit out front in any event, too many cars passing by.  There were vultures from the colony down the road lining the telephone wire running into the house, I waved at them and said, 'Not yet, boys'.  They paid me no attention, they never do.
The only part of the package not destroyed was the return address, oddly enough.  It was written in Paulie's handwriting, that had been confirmed and there was a...manhunt on for him.  One of the investigators was of the opinion that his mind had snapped and he likely had focused his anger upon the only person he knew well, which would be me.  My house would be under surveillance from now on, as would I.  I lit another cigarette and thought of what to do.  I knew that Paulie would be shot evading custody or some other tired excuse, and I knew he had enough sense to stay away from here.  The odds were that he was already dead, the scene would be staged as a suicide, probably by drowning, no inconvenient body to deal with that way.  Then the side gate creaked open and someone walked up behind me.
     "I thought you would be needing this", and retired Sergeant Major Warden handed Precious to me.  She wriggled and I hugged her and fought back tears.  I put her down and asked the old man,
     "Did you really retire here, Sir, or am I an assignment"?  He lit his pipe, looked up at the vultures.
     "An assignment, I'm afraid", he replied, "but a good one.  I like this town and I don't have to do anything".  He drew on the pipe.  "Anything strenuous, that is.  I'm sorry about your cat, that wasn't supposed to happen".  He looked into my eyes.  "These young 'uns today think that everything will always go as planned".
I thought of killing him but I knew that I was in barely good enough shape to walk, never mind fight.  Besides, I could see the pistol under his floral shirt, I'm fast but not that fast. I said,
     "What now"?
     "You know why I'm here, I'm surprised you ask".  His pipe wasn't drawing right and he lit it again, using a wooden match.  "I found the body, you couldn't take it anymore and today was the last straw".  He had the pistol in his hand pointed at me.  "I'm sorry, I really do like you", and then Paulie stepped out of the garage doorway and snapped his neck like a dry twig.  The big bear picked up the weapon, checked the breach, and then sat down and drank wine straight out of the bottle.  Precious delightedly twined herself around his feet and he reached down and scratched her ears.
  "Long time no see", he said.

 

Boo.

 

In The Wind

 

   We had to move fast.  Paulie picked up the body of the person I knew as Sergeant Major Warden, a name that should have clued me off as to what his real function was in being my neighbor.  While he put the corpse in the garage, I got Precious and put her in a cat carrier.  Paulie came out of the garage and shut the door behind him.
'I figure we have about 10 minutes tops until they realize their errand boy won't be checking in.  We gotta go".  He paused, and then said, 'The cat?  Really'?  I ziplocked the cage door shut and replied, 'Ready when you are'.  I looked around at the house, the yard, the pool I never used.  A shame, I liked it here as much as was possible.
     I had no idea where we were going or what we would do.  We cut between the houses and Paulie went up to a dark colored sedan on the next street and opened the back door, motioning for me to get in.  I put Precious in her cage against the far door and got in myself.  Paulie closed his door and I could just make out the driver against the darkened dashboard.  Something was odd and familiar about him.  He put the car in gear and we started driving, not fast, and I wondered where they thought we could go.  Paulie switched on the radio to a news station, then turned and faced me.
'They came for me after I talked to you a couple of days ago.  I don't what they thought they were doing or who they thought they were dealing with, but I've been ready for them this past year and more.  I knew that you were in trouble, but I didn't expect them to move so quickly.  That bomb must have been mailed at the same time I was supposed to disappear.  Turn here'.
Now we were headed out of town towards Copano Bay, as easy a road to block as any mountain pass.  I wondered what we were doing.  I could now see the driver against the windshield lit by passing lights, and I gasped.
'Farley'?
     I could see the grin on the big fox's face even in the dark car.  'Hello, Billy'!  He turned the car down a dirt road that led to the old bay bridge and was now a fishing pier.  We came to the parking lot and there were a few cars there, there is always someone fishing off the old bridge.  I didn't see anyone around, to say the least we were the 3 most conspicuous people imaginable.  A fox, a panda, a cat and a rabbit walk into a bar, I thought.  Farley parked the car and both him and Paulie got out.  Paulie popped open the trunk while Farley opened the back door and picked up the carrier.  I got out and fell a little when I stood up, it had been a very long day and the pain meds were making me woozy.  Paulie handed me a Thompson gun and gave a shotgun to the fox, when he shut the trunk I saw that he had grenades in his belt and a Thompson in his left hand.  He gave me a pouch with clips in it, I put it over my neck.  I wanted to ask questions about the antique artillery but I knew there was no time for chit chat, and we could hear the radio giving our descriptions to the world....'and considered extremely dangerous.  Do Not attempt to apprehend...call for immediate... believed to be...and so on.  Paulie walked to the driver's side window, reached in and pulled the keys out of the ignition.  Then he threw them into the water.  He started walking down one of the paths towards the bay and Farley put an arm around my shoulder as I tried to walk and carry Precious at the same time.  They were acting exactly like we were on patrol during the war so I knew that time was of the essence as well as running out.  We came to one of the wharves and headed up to a fishing boat moored in the shadow.  It was an expensive boat with twin Evinrude E-TEC 300's, however these two got that boat they didn't pay for it.  I got in and put Precious in her carrier on the deck between my feet.  I made sure the bolt was forward on the Thompson and laid it on the deck.  Farley and Paulie cast off with Farley at the helm.  Up at the parking lot a series of car lights swept in from the highway, I'd say our head start was now gone.  There was shouting as the unseen men surrounded our abandoned car.  I could hear choppers heading our way and then something lit up the lot like a small sun, we could feel the shock wave before we heard the explosion.
'Oh, my', Paulie said.  'Sauce for the goose and all that'.  Farley laughed as he opened up those motors.  Even on the still bay the pounding was intense as the hull slammed down after cresting even the smallest ripple.  My head was throbbing and I was slick with blood from where my ear had started bleeding again.  Bullets were lashing the water astern of us and off to starboard I could see a Coast Guard cutter closing the distance between us.  The boat lit up with the flashes of Paulie's return fire and hot shell casings bounced off my face and arms.  We were as good as dead and that's when I threw up on the cat carrier and then fell over unconscious.

 

The Rabbit's Revenge

The story so far-

 (Billy Bunny, an orphan, is a former member of a special combat team modified with animal attributes for the desired characteristics.  He has been surgically and chemically blended with rabbit modifications for speed.  Him and his former platoon guide, Paulie Panda, are the sole survivors of their unit that was wiped out in an ambush planned and carried out by their commanders, the unit was an illegal embarrassment and it was easier to scrap the lot than to integrate the veterans back into society.  Billy and Paulie would have been dealt with as well except that the press got hold of the story and made heroes of the survivors.  They have been pensioned off, Paulie to his hometown of Chicago and Billy was sent to the coastal enclave of Rockport, Texas.  Unbeknownst to the rabbit, he was under surveillance by a government operative, a kindly neighbor.  Because of the panda's former organized crime connections it was decided to eliminate him first, but he disappeared before the hit could be carried out.  A package bomb was then sent to Billy's house where it was prematurely detonated by one of his beloved cats.  Just as Billy's government minder was about to shoot him Paulie stepped out of the garage and killed him.  Paulie has been framed for the bombing and the dragnet is now no longer secret but a straightforward hunt for a murderer and his accomplices.  The two, and the remaining cat, are on the run along with Farley Fox, another survivor of the ENfantry that was not at the Forlorn Hope ambush that killed the other enhanced infantrymen.  They have taken a stolen speedboat and are in flight under a hail of bullets when Billy vomits and passes out on the cat carrier.  In the last episode a coast guard cutter was heading the speedboat off and helicopters were overhead.  Could this be it for the three fugitives and the cat?  Let's tune in and find out).

I awoke to the harsh light of a naked bulb in my face.  Paulie and a human male were leaning over me and the big panda said, 'Glad to have you back'.  My head was throbbing and my ear hurt from where the bomb fragments tore it.  The human, an older man, stuck a thermometer under my front teeth and told me to lie still.  Farley swam into view and dumped Precious on my chest.  'Godammit'!  the man snarled, 'hold still!  Fuckin' rabbit'.  I reached up and scritched Precious under her chin.  'This ain't a veterinarian's.  He sniffed.  'May as well be'.  Farley was grinning from ear to ear, I mean you could hear his teeth.  'Thought we lost you.  Missed all the fun'.  And then he scooped up Precious.  'This is Doc Mandelbrot, he's gonna check you out'.  The man nodded and then felt the back of my head.  'Say ah', and he showed a light down my throat.  I heard Paulie say, 'So, Doc, can you get it?'  The man tugged my ears so my mouth was uppermost.  He moved the light around and then turned it off.  'Let's talk', he said to Paulie and they moved away out of my sight.  Farley handed me a cigarette and lit if for me, I was now sitting up in the bed.  He sat down on the edge of the bed and looked at me.

'Where are we'?  It seemed a good question.

'Outside of Houston, we should have enough time here to finish this off'.  He blew smoke in my general direction.  'Aren't you curious as to how you got here?  You were napping, as I recall'.  I swung my feet onto the floor and stood, a little unsteady but not bad.  Farley was really stroking Precious and I could hear her purr 12 feet away.

'What happened to that big boat?  How did we get away'?  Farley's grin was even wider than before.

'The Big Boat?  The coast guard cutter?  She ran into the mine, that's what happened.  There may have been survivors but we didn't stick around to find out'.  I started to ask and Farley said, 'The mine we planted there and lured the ship into'.  He made an expansive gesture.  'Look around, we have friends'.

I did look.  We were in a large warehouse style building and I could see people moving among boxes and electronic equipment.  There were gun racks and cots in rows, I could see a couple of vehicles through the stacks of supplies.  'Who...'  'Our friends, the resistance.  We are not the only victims of this government'.  Farley put Precious on the bed and stretched.  'And now we have you here.  Now we have proof of the murder of our people.  We have, oh, hello doctor'.

Paulie and Doctor Mandelbrot had returned.  The doctor looked down into my eyes and said, 'Feeling better, are we'?  And Paulie said, 'Let's get some chow'.  We walked among the cots and shelves and as we did people that were there stopped and stared at the three of us.  Then they pushed forward and started shaking my hand.  They were laughing and talking all at once.

'So this is the rabbit that will save us all'! exclaimed a tall man who was all smiles.  'Name's Pete'.  He shook my hand like it was a pump handle and slapped me on the back.  'So good to finally meet you'!  I stammered and no one paid attention.  A lady in overalls came up and touched my face.  'Oh, my, you must be hurting.  Poor dear'!  At first I could hardly believe she was talking to me.  She was pretty, too.  Paulie stepped forward and told everyone we needed to get through so please get the hell out of the way right now.  Moses never parted anything like that.

 

  As we walked toward what I presumed was a lunchroom we passed an area curtained off with plastic sheeting and surrounded by lights.  There was some sort of table in the middle.  I was reminded of the field surgery, which I barely remember.  In fact I don't remember anything at all about the Forlorn Hope massacre, only that the panda had carried me to safety.  We came to a side room and went in and all of us sat down at a big table.  Doc Mandelbrot never took his eyes off me, I guess a transitioned human was a novelty to him.  Paulie began handing sandwiches around and Farley ripped into his like a starving...er...fox.  'You like peanut butter, as I recall', and Paulie handed me a couple of sandwiches.  'Oh, yes, please, very much'.  I was overwhelmed that all of these people were being so nice to me.  Paulie had his hands folded on the table and him and the doctor were staring at me.

'Why are we here, Billy'?  asked the bear.  I was surprised and replied, 'I have no idea.  Some people went through a lot of trouble to get here, and you and Farley got some balls on you'.  I mean, that speedboat thing was over the top.  Farley started on another sandwich and the doctor lit a smoke.

'You don't remember me, do you, Bill'?  I had a mouthful of sandwich, so I shook my head.  The motion made my ear hurt.  'Of course not, you were just a kid'.  He exhaled smoke.  'I was in charge of your Transition'. 
I must have jumped, I was overwhelmed with anger.  I felt Paulie's hand on one shoulder and Farley's on the other.  'Hear him out', said Paulie.  The doctor offered me a cigarette which I took.  My eyes turn red when I'm angry and I must have looked like a channel marker at night.  He lit it for me and then leaned forward.

'When the program was begun we used volunteers.  As deaths mounted the army was able to convince certain members of the government to authorize children, orphans, as subjects'.  He dropped his cigarette on the floor and ground it out with his heel.  'The Transition only worked on about 15 percent of the subjects, your friends here were two of our early success's.  Farley growled 'Against our will'. The doctor didn't react but kept talking.  'The main problem was a rejection of the animal DNA that produced the desired characteristics.  Originally we only were aiming for boosts in strength and speed, according to the species being used, but were unable to prevent non humanoid appearances.  'That's why you look like a rabbit', said Paulie.  'Out of over 2,000 subjects, we were able to transition almost 300 New Warriors, as we called them.  'What of the others?' I asked while blowing the smoke directly at the man.

'They didn't make it'.  You, Billy, were our only success with the lagomorphic change.  We desired to induce supernatural speed and reflexes and with you, well...we succeeded'.

I know my eyes must have been as burning coals.  'How could you have done this?  Murderer!  I was just a kid!'  The doctor met my eyes and replied, 'They had my family'.  Then he started crying.  Seeing an adult male weep is always hard for me and probably every other person alive.

'We got the doc out of the labs last week', Farley said.  'And not a minute too soon', said Paulie.  'We found out that the army was going to wipe the entire program clean, not just us'.  'So does anyone want to tell me what's going on?  Why all this trouble and drama and death?  What can we do against the government'?

'That's where you come in'.  Farley was now at the side of the weeping scientist.  'You're our ace in the hole'.  Paulie added, 'The government is on the edge.  The scandal of Forlorn Hope has gotten out among congressmen and the press, but without rock solid proof of our government's involvement we have nothing.  He looked down at the doctor.  'But with proof the regime will fall.  That's why you're here'.

'Me?  I don't know anything'!  You guy's are nuts!'

The doctor was wiping off his glasses.  'No, you don't know why we need you.  Do you remember what happened at the massacre?'  I stared, absolutely amazed he would ask that.

'Yeah', I replied.  'We were slaughtered'.

'You drew the attention of the mobile weapon and it spiked you before you got it with a grenade.  That's when I grabbed you and we ran for it'.  Paulie looked at the doctor, now composed.  'The tip of that spike is still embedded in the back of your skull, the field guys decided not to try and remove it'.  Farley said, 'And that is the only proof of American involvement in the mass murder of their soldiers.  We get that and it will be all over the news and the net by tonight'.  I was stunned.  

'All traces of the 'Hope massacre were eliminated.  The weapon was one of ours normally used for protecting airfields, which means the site had been selected and prepared well in advance'.  The doc looked me directly in the eyes.  'Did you notice the operating area as we walked to this room?'

So that's what this was all about.  No wonder they had gone through so much trouble to keep me alive, or at least get my body.

'Yes', I replied.

'I think I can get the tip of that poison injector.  I may be able to do it and you'll walk away from the operation.  Or maybe not'.  All three men were looking at me.

What the hell.  I was as good as dead anyway.  'Let's roll', I said, and stood up and walked to the door.  There was a knot of people testing lights and laying out equipment.  I asked, 'What do you want me...' and the doctor stuck a needle in my neck as my two friends held me by my arms in a deathgrip.  'Son of a ...' and that's all I remember about that.

 

I was in a boat on a stream that ran through lovely hills and fields of flowers.  Beau and Mee Mee were purring away in my lap.  I could hear music but I had no idea where it was coming from.  I was so very happy to see my cats again, and they rubbed up against me like there was no tomorrow.  I reached up to scratch my damaged ear and it wasn't there, just a normal human ear in it's place.  I looked at my hands in wonder and sure enough, human.  Beau stood up and put his front paws around my neck just like he did on the last night of his life.  The sky was a pastel blue and the weather was wonderful.  I could feel the breeze ruffling my hair like that dimly remembered field trip to the beach they took us to.  It felt good to be a boy again and it was wonderful to hold my kitties.

Paulie was helping me walk away from the table while the doctor handed something to a group of uniformed men. One of them saluted and they left.  People were crowding around us and laughing, Paulie had to push them aside.  Farley handed Precious to me, then asked me if I could walk alright.

'How did you survive, Farls?  Why aren't you dead?  Where have you been?'

The tall fox laughed.  'I was in the brig for smuggling liquor to the barracks'.  'Again', said Paulie.

'I heard about you guys and that's when our friend Sgt. Madison opened the door and told me to run for it.  'He was a good guy', said Paulie.  'Dead now', replied Farley.  'All them guys were killed right after that.  Anyway, I got to the states and met up with some people who said they could help.  I found Paulie last week and here we are'.  I stroked Precious and we walked into a room where there were clothes draped over a chair.  'Sorry, but we couldn't find shoes'.  No shit, I thought, and said 'I never wear them, too expensive to have made up'.  The pants fit perfect and the slit in back accommodated my tail like they were tailored for me, which upon reflection they probably were.

 

Endgame.

I watched as Farley and Paulie spoke to some of the people out of my view.  Farley had laid his pistol on the chair and was eating Cheetos from the bag.  Paulie looked done in, these last few days must have been hell on him.  I picked up the gun and said, 'Hey, Farls'.  He turned and looked at the gun pointed at his heart and then at me.  'Is that the best you can do for a story'?  Paulie looked at us both and then grabbed the fox by the neck.  'When will they get here'?  He asked, and then tightened his grip.  Throwing the fox against a wall locker, he then said, 'I need to know.  Now'.  Farley was rubbing his throat and he tried to grin but the game was up.  'Just tell us', I said, 'and we can get this over with'.  The fox replied, 'Soon.  The spike that was extracted should be in military hands by now and this place is under complete blackout.  It's finished'.  Paulie slapped his head and it bounced off the locker leaving blood on the tan metal.  'I saw Farls die at the 'Hope.  Who are you'?  He just glared at me.  Paulie slapped him again and put him on the floor.  'Bastard', the panda muttered.  I walked over and put the pistol to the fox's skull.  'Who are you, say again'?  The fox gritted bloody teeth together and said, 'Military intelligence'.  He spat out a tooth.  His mouth was red and orange, Cheetos look awful wet.  He started to say something else and I shot him under his right eye.  There was a crowd trying to get in the room and Paulie started giving orders for all and sundry to run for it.  At that moment there was an explosion, followed by automatic fire.  People were running, not in flight but to get into firing position, there was no point in trying to escape the building.  'C'mon'!  The bear yelled at me but I went and got Precious from a corner and picked her up and kissed her head.  Goodbye darling.  She ran off.   A bullet just missed my good ear and then I was being drug by a black and white bulldozer down a hall.  A group of men in battle gear appeared in front of us, I took their weapons from them as I did not have the pistol anymore.  Then I killed them and we were all still running down the hall but to where I had no idea.  'Goddamn you move fast'.  Paulie stopped in front of a shelf loaded with rifles and grabbed one and started stuffing magazines in his pockets.   Paulie threw me a rifle and I grabbed as many magazines as I could.  We came to a big room with some vehicles in it, they were on fire.  Doc Mandelbrot was lying in a pool of blood and no one was ever deader.  The far end of the room blew open and black clad soldiers leapt through the breach.  Paulie must have shot half of them by the time I jacked a round into the chamber, the rifle was unfamiliar to me.  Then I shot some of the soldiers as well.  More were tumbling over the shattered wall and I realized that this was it.  All for nothing.  I could see the big bear standing erect and blazing away with his rifle, I could also see that he had been hit many times.  I hoped my cat got out.

From the debriefing of of the prisoner, former Tech Sgt/Platoon Guide Panda, P. - Enhanced Infantry:

 

Panda-
You guys are scum and I have nothing else to say.  Fuck your mothers.

 

Intel-
The rabbit's dead.  The doctor's dead.  Be a good bear and let us know who tipped you off about this operation.  It really would be easier on you, I promise.

 

Panda-
I'm as human as you are...in fact -

It is recommended in the future that such prisoners be drugged in addition to being restrained, two officers were badly hurt when the subject snapped his manacles and attacked his interrogators, necessitating an immediate and permanent cessation of questioning.  The body was taken for autopsy per standing directive re. the Transition Project.  In view of the incredible fighting abilities of the altered soldiers, it is imperative to re-start the ENfantry program, only with added safeguards this time.

In the evening, a little cat heavily covered in blood limped down to the water's edge, tried to drink, and died.  Sometime in the night a coyote carried her away.

The End.

The Funnies #64, Dell Publishing.  May 1942.  Andy Panda and Oswald Rabbit property of Walter Lantz.

But wait,...a bonus!

  It's been a great day, and these two have very much enjoyed their reunion.  But Paulie has a dark secret, and he is about to let his cherished rabbit friend in on it.  Billy has no memory of when or why he was committed to the horrors of the ENfantry, he was an orphan and the drug assisted surgery wiped all memories of life as a human.  Paulie, however, was an extremely tough Chicago gangster when he was given the choice between death and the almost certain death of transformation into one of the army's expendable battlefield resources.  He enjoyed being an enforcer and the money it brought him.  Normally someone like him would move up in the hierarchy but he was framed on the boss's orders for a murder he had nothing to do with, that of a little boy.  He was also a threat to the commission, this was a young man on the go.  The real murderer was the son of a very high ranking prominent politician at the apex of power.  This injustice turned a ruthless criminal into a reflective and quiet time bomb, which worked out for everyone involved on the battlefield.  Since the modified human animals were all going to be eliminated anyway it was felt that convenience and the needs of the war were equally well served.  Paulie Panda has never forgotten what happened to him and this story is far from over.  Oh, and there have been several young boys found raped and mutilated in the very shadow of the Capitol building in Washington.  But those cases were solved and the mentally backward homeless perpetrators with no family or friends got what they deserved without a time wasting trial.  American justice triumphs again!

 Richard Adams, Watership Down.  Outstanding illustration by Rachel Johannes Calder.

Panda with minigun by Banksy.

Afterword-

After I was discharged I was sent to a small seaside town in Texas to live out the rest of my days.  I was given a house and a pension, generous until one realizes the government tried and failed to kill me.  They got everyone else in my unit except for me and Sgt. Panda, who saved our lives by his extreme strength and refusal to give up.  We would have been dealt with as well but embedded reporters made heroes of us, another example of how sloppy and arrogant command was.  My new neighbors were cautious but soon I wasn't noticed, when everyone found out that I am quiet and keep to myself they forgot about having a scarred up rabbit living in their midst, and probably bragged about it, what with the notoriety and all.

Billy was watering his pumpkins when the screams across the road attracted his attention.  A little boy had waded out into the water while his wheelchair bound grandmother tried to call him back.  The other members of the family were a hundred yards away fishing, and there was not much time.  Using his tremendous speed the rabbit sprinted across the road to the bay and plunged in after the boy.  He cut his feet severely, the bay was all oyster beds and no place to be swimming.  He grabbed the kid and brought him back to the woman in the chair, she was sobbing with gratitude and tried to thank him through her tears.  He walked, limped rather, back to the pumpkin patch and found his smokes and lit one up.  Soon, he thought, and sure enough the father was walking across the road to him, and he didn't look happy.  Billy stood up and waited for it when the father grabbed his 'hand' and began shaking it up and down like it was an old time water pump.
'Thanks so much', he said, 'Thank God you were here'.  They talked some and it turned out the father had served on the same front during the war and knew of the Forlorn Hope catastrophe.  Billy was embarrassed and asked if the boy was alright.  Assured that he was, him and the father exchanged addresses and said their goodbyes.  Billy didn't point out that the man would be contacted by the federales and would probably regret meeting him, but it would have been churlish to bring that up.  After the grateful, decent guy left Billy went inside the house until the crowd down by the bay dispersed.  He didn't feel like answering questions and hoped that the police didn't hear about the incident.  He sat in his living room applying Mercurochrome to his slashed feet while Precious and MeeMee demanded to be fed, loudly.  Oyster beds are like walking on razors.  Then Billy turned on the radio and tiptoed into the kitchen.  The station was a local young people's venue, but the only classical music station didn't resume playing music until after 7, it was an NPR station and they were busy singing the praises of the current administration's handling of the headlong abandonment of the most recent war.  Billy could only remember his life in the army, the Transition had wiped out his recall of anything before it.  He opened a can of tuna for his spoiled kitties and placed two plates of it in front of the greedy little things.  He wasn't hungry but coffee was always welcome so he made some and then took it out to the back porch.  The pool pump gurgled away and there was a flock of ibises, again, combing through his newly mown lawn searching for supper.  He picked up his guitar and tried some basic chords, while his fingers were thick and oddly shaped he had learned to hold a pick with them, it was the chords themselves that were hard to play.  After this he had another cigarette and watched the birds at their labors.

...I could touch them with my hand,
Almost, I thought, from where I stand.

Billy liked poetry and he always had a quote ready for most anything.  A shame, he thought, that I have no friends to impress with my wit and memory.  He flipped the cigarette butt at the outraged birds and went inside.  Evening was falling on the town and the water had gone from bright gunmetal to a deep blue.  The clouds were an angry red, the sun went down on the inland side of the house and the view could be most dramatic as night fell.  When he sat down on the couch Precious jumped in his lap and purred with satisfaction and he could hear Meemers clawing open a cabinet so she could sit on the dishes and sulk.  Sometimes Billy would pull open the hatchway he had built into the floor and hide until the fear went away but tonight he felt good about helping the boy, although drowning in such a shallow bay showed complete ineptitude and he doubted the kid had a long life in front of him.  To say the least Billy had little empathy for those who didn't try, he had seen his friends murdered for simply being who they were and nothing else.  He lifted the complaining cat up off his lap and went into the kitchen to make some kind of dinner.  Searching the pantry revealed a can of chili and there were crackers to crumble in it.  He ate all that cold, the smell of meat being heated made him anxious.  Deciding to wash up in the morning, Billy sat on the old cat shredded couch and turned on his TV and watched one of the naked ladies channels, he wondered what the sex thing was all about.  Looks like it could be fun, he decided, I bet those girls smell nice.  After a while he opened a bottle of not too cheap red wine and drank it as the night descended with full force over the village.  He fell asleep and dreamed of not being able to tie his shoes as he fumbled the laces during the attack, and when he awoke his back was stiff and his feet were hurting where they were cut.  He got up and went to bed after turning on all the lights in the house and making sure the doors were bolted.  When he woke Precious and MeeMee were sleeping on his back and legs and the sun was bright and lovely.  Seeing the sun in the morning always meant a lot to him.
Always.

Photo by Steve Davis - www.instagram.com/sdavis.howdy…

Poem snippet from Renascence, Edna St. Vincent Millay.  1912.

It's a hell of a life.