Advance
"My parents used to argue ... about stupid things, you know?" Audrey poked at her breakfast. Scrambled eggs. Toast with strawberry jam. "I just ... I hated it," she whispered. "It was so ... I mean, I would listen to it, and I would think to myself, 'I'm never gonna fight with anybody like that. It's not worth it.' And ... I mean, I know I ... sometimes, I get frustrated," she admitted, looking up at him. "But I don't want you to tire of my voice. I don't want it to be a sound that ... grates you. Or causes you to tense. You know?"
"It doesn't ... it won't," Peregrine assured. On the other side of the table. Meeting her morning gaze. It was just after sunrise. Just after seven.
Audrey put her fork into her muzzle ... pulled it out. Chew-chewed on eggs. Swallowed and reached for her water glass.
"No orange juice?"
A shake of the head. "We ran out."
A quiet nod.
"I just ... if I ever raise my voice at you ... make me stop," she said. Quietly. Exhaling through the nose.
"Aud ... "
"I just a bad dream last night."
"About?"
"Family." Her eyes met his. And she tilted her head. "Why is it that something so vital, something ... so natural as family ... is often the biggest source of pain in our lives?"
The mouse hadn't an answer for that.
"I'm sorry ... you don't wanna talk about it."
"I'll talk about anything," he assured.
She shook her head, staring at her plate. "No ... you won't." She looked up (again). At his eyes. "But I know we have common, Perry. Besides being ... mates. Besides swapping fur, as it were ... every night. I know we have a common ground."
"I never said we didn't ... "
"Well, I know, but ... in order to FIND that common ground, we're both gonna have to open up. More than we have. About ... everything. Ours pasts, our pains ... our wants. I just ... " She picked up a piece of jam-covered coast. A piece of bread had been toasted and cut diagonally down the middle. And the strawberry jam dripped off the crusty part. "I've ... I've seen this conspiracy destroy lives. Dull lives. I know we're under its eye, but ... maybe we can get out of it. And WHEN," she insisted, "we do ... we're gonna need a new direction for our lives. I just ... we have to talk about our future."
"Our future ... is that," he said quietly, fingers feeling the condensation on his own water glass. "Is that we'll be together."
"I KNOW ... I know that," she insisted. "But ... there's MORE. You know? What'll we do? Who'll we be? Will we stay here? Neither of us is in love with our jobs, you know, and ... will we have children? I mean, we're young, but ... what are we going to do with that youth? How are we going to spend it? Are we going to create, explore, settle ... a life together is more than just waking up and going through the motions and falling into bed at night. It's ... an intricate journey. It's an adventure. I want our lives to be mutual," she said, "adventures."
The mouse, sipping at his water, put his glass down. Whispered, "That's ... fine with me. I mean, I don't ... I don't understand what you're rambling at me for. I'm not gonna fight you. I'm not gonna fight it."
"Just don't be passive," she asked of him. "Promise me ... "
"I'm a haunted, steely mouse, remember? I bore other furs."
"Perry ... don't start. Just promise me ... "
" ... I won't be passive," he whispered. "I promise."
A slight nod, and a deep breath (through the nose).
The light was streaming through the window (highlighting all the grains and motes of dust ... in the air, in the eddies of the kitchen air). The kitchen was pretty bare. Pretty simple. The whole house was. Old. A frontier house. A prairie house.
They were in their bare foot-paws. She wore a tank top and shorts, and he just wore shorts ... and his tail, thin and ropy, snaked about behind his chair. In the open, chilly ... kitchen air.
"It'll get warmer," she said. "I think I read in the paper ... on the back of the State section, you know. The five-day forecast."
"They get it wrong ... last two weeks, they've getting it wrong. Like, a good seven degrees off, one day ... I think."
"Well, I think said the 70's today ... should be nice."
"A nice day for ... breaking into the raspberry tea factory, huh?"
"I was hoping not to think about it," she admitted.
"It was your idea."
"Yeah, but ... the more we think about it, the more anxious we'll get, and we'll end up finding an excuse not to go, so let's ... not think."
"I'm a mouse. Not thinking ... that's like not breathing. Can't do it."
"Mm ... " A slight smile. She tilted her head, her forest-green eyes ... glinting a bit. As they often did.
He tried not to smile back. The grey-furred, quiet mouse ... tried not to smile back. But he did, and ... giggled, looking away.
Her widening smile ... one of satisfaction. One of joy. One of contagion.
They finished eating their breakfast. Chatting, giving each other glances, and ... trying not to look at the clock. Trying not to think about the walk into town.
Trying not to remember the taste of raspberry iced tea ... chilled ... as it flowed on the tongue.
"So, you're ... Addison? Andrew?"
"Advance," supplied the rodent. Whiskers nervously twitching. Sitting in a chair ... in an office overlooking the main floor of the factory.
"Advance," the cheetah purred (the cheetah who was, in fact, a robot ... but SO perfect a facsimile of a living, breathing fur ... that hardly anyone knew what she really was; unless she told them). "An interesting name."
"It's a name," was all the mouse said.
"Mm ... you're in charge here, correct?" she asked, padding back and forth. Back and forth.
"Of this factory, yes. But ... I'm in no way affiliated with ... "
" ... 'The Board' is too cumbersome for my time. I want you as my go-between."
"Go-between?" More whisker-twitches.
"Yes, my ... " She stared at him some more. Squinted. "You're not like any mouse I've seen before ... what are you? Half-breed?" She meant that ... as an insult.
"I'm a pinon mouse." (Pronounced: pin-yon.)
She made a face.
"I'm ... from the Southeast. The dessert." He twitched under her visual scrutiny. "D-death Valley ... I, uh ... moved when I was young." He was medium-sized ... not too short, not too tall. With grayish and yellowish-brown fur above. White further down. His tail, like his fur, was multi-colored. Bi-colored. Dark on top, and white below, and heavily furred ... with a tuft on the end. His ears were quite large.
"You have a ... distinct scent." She leaned forward, nose inhaling. "Like ... juniper?" she half-asked, half-stated.
"Um ... Mandy ... "
The cheetah slowly grinned, leaning even closer. Closer!
Advance swallowed, his heart going ... hammer-hammer.
"Do I make you nervous?" she whispered. And what a dangerous whisper! What a controlled, confident whisper ... she was the predator in this room. She had the claws. Had the blood instinct ... had killed. She had the power. She had the air. "Do I ... " A paw to his chest, and ... tugging at his shirt. Showing her teeth. And meeting his eyes as her paw went to his arm ... and toyed with his fur. Fingers sliding through his fur. "Do I scare you, Advance?"
"No ... "
"You're lying," was her dark whisper. Eyes boring into his. His eyes were ... a golden color. An amber color. Like wheat. They were light. "You're lying to me ... look me in the eyes," she said, her own eyes ... a fierce, stormy blue. "Look at me and tell me I don't scare you."
"Why ... why are you doing this ... "
"Doing what? Scaring you?" A head-tilt. "So, you ARE scared ... you admit it ... "
"Yes," he panted frantically. "Yes, yes ... just ... don't touch me," he pleaded.
"Oh, but you don't know," she assured silkily, her sharp claws trailing through the fur on his arm, and she ... suddenly grasped at his paw. Squeezing it. Hard.
"Ow ... ow ... "
"You don't know," she finished, "what I can do to do ... you need to KNOW," she told him, whispering it into one of his large ears, "who you're dealing with."
A gulp. "Let ... l-let go ... "
Crushing his paw ... harder ...
"I could break every bone in your paw ... prey are so frail," she told him. In disgust. "They're SO weak ... "
"We're ... we're resilient. We're ... "
" ... righteous? Emotional? Don't give me that ... the company line of all prey. Oh, we can feel ... we have passion. We can adapt. We're survivors. We're ... muzzle it, mouse. It's the predators who have the power. It's always been ours, and it will ALWAYS ... remain that way. You have no hope. You have no room to maneuver. So, get it out of your miserable little mind ... any thoughts, any hopes of peace. For you will NOT ... see it. Or have it. Or ... " Her nose and muzzle were perilously close to his own ... and she lapped at his cheek-fur with her rough, feline tongue. "Will not," she purred, "taste it ... " And she grinned and backed off, letting go of his paw ... and pacing, padding to the wall, and then back again. Like a caged beast.
Advance whimper-squeaked ... trying to nurse his throbbing right paw ...
"With General Sheridan's untimely ... demise," Mandy said, her eyes burning with hatred (directed at a very distant Field and Adelaide ... they were back in Indiana ... they thought they were safe ... thought that it was over ... they were fools). "With his demise, that leaves the various members of 'The Board' ... in control of this conspiracy."
Advance's large ears went ... swivel-swivel. His whiskers twitched. Was she talking for his benefit, or for her own? Most likely her own, she realized. But he had no choice but to sit here and listen to her megalomaniacal rambles ...
"Problem is, each individual Sheridan town ... has its OWN 'Board,' and ... what was once a thriving conspiracy is now ... in a state of flux. Oh, we're still a threat. We're still ... a force. But to TRULY conquer the world, and to truly achieve our objectives ... all Sheridan towns have to be united in cause."
"Dark cause," Advance supplied.
A dangerous glance.
The mouse went quiet, swallowing.
"Dark ... the dark is for fun, for rest, for ... why associate darkness," she asked, "with badness? How narrow-minded of you," she accused.
The pinon mouse flushed hot ... realizing there was no winning with her. She hated him. And yet ... he sensed, with his nose, that ... she wanted him. As a breeding toy ... as a punching bag. Predators hated prey, but ... oh, they LOVED to use prey ... for their own pleasure and gain. Prey were toys to them ...
"The Sheridan Conspiracy needs a uniting voice ... a uniting fur. Some-fur to coordinate things, to ... someone to step into the General's shadow."
"Some-fur," he guessed, "like you?"
An ingratiating smile. "How very perceptive of you," she congratulated. "Yes ... some-fur like me."
Advance said nothing. Still sitting in his chair. Still afraid to move (though he couldn't keep himself from ... his natural mousey motions ... the whisker-twitches, ear-swivels, and eye-darts ... and tail-snakes, too) ... and, all the while, her keen eyes (a sharper gold than his own, and more slitted) watched his motions. As if watching something of interest. Something ... she intended to pounce.
"I plan on taking charge of this Conspiracy. I will not see it flounder. I will see it ... flourish. That is why," she explained, padding back and forth again, her black-spotted yellow tail ... trailing behind her, so lazily ... " ... that is why I've come up with the idea of using your infamous tea here," she said, stopping. Meeting his eyes. "As a catalyst for regional, and eventually national ... and perhaps global domination."
"It's just tea," Advance insisted.
"Just tea ... is water just water? Is milk just milk? No, mouse ... tea is ... a drink of organic sophistication. You can't confess to not liking tea. It makes you look like an ignorant. Everyone likes tea, whether they do or not. Your bottled raspberry iced tea has quite a following. It we can turn it into a DRUG," she said, eyes glowing, body language flaring ... she was exciting herself. "We can directly control hundreds, thousands ... countless furs! They'll NEED the tea to ... it'll be a drug, don't you see? We turn the tea into a drug ... and we have a whole new following. The town's-furs have been getting rebellious ... we need to quell any and all rebellions in all Sheridan towns. Starting here. This is where it all started. General Sheridan. The guard trolleys. If we can't control the populace in Sheridan, Wyoming, we have no hope of controlling the furry populations in the other Sheridan towns."
Advance sniffed his nose.
"You object? How quaint ... but, mouse, how diabolical is this plan?" She showed her teeth ... in a delirious grin. "This is genius-time, mouse! Genius," she whispered, "time."
"Why not put the mind-control drug in the water?"
"The government will investigate reports of tainted water. Tainted tea? That's our problem. That's the company's problem. It'll be easier to get away with ... plus, using bottled raspberry iced tea to domesticate all you naughty furs? How poetic is that? No, we're using your tea."
Advance sighed. Fidgeted. "My father owned this factory, and ... "
" ... and you will be honoring his memory," she assured slickly, "by helping a good cause. A greater," she insisted, "cause ... you'll be a patriot."
"I don't wanna be a patriot."
Her glee started to fade ... replaced by an intimidating stare. "You WILL be ... and you will like it. Your position as manager of this tea factory is not irreplaceable. You," she told him, "are not irreplaceable."
A squeaking swallow.
"I have a sister," she told him ... " ... back in Sheridan, Indiana. She betrayed me. I will kill her for that. Do not betray me, too. You won't live to regret it."
The mouse's heart went hammer-hammer ... and he nodded weakly.
"I'm going to go have some tea. I've worked a thirst," she remarked, heading for the door. "We'll talk again ... later," she purred.
Advance watched Mandy go ... and let out a deep breath (once alone).
The guard trolleys, as a rule, didn't patrol during the day ... but their presence was still felt. They were dormant. They were ... somehow, in their sleep, sensing you, and you sensed them ... back. And ...
... anyway, the water towers. The old, stilted water towers. They had eyes. Somehow. There were eyes everywhere.
In Sheridan town, you were always being watched.
You always knew it.
And you always felt it.
Which is why Peregrine and Audrey (like every other fur they happened to cross on their way into town, and ... in the town itself) ... why they were quiet. Somber. Why they didn't lock eyes. Why they didn't talk. You could talk indoors, maybe, but ... not outside. You didn't wanna risk getting picked up for causing a 'disruption.'
And, besides, 'The Board' had outlawed mate-ships ... believing love to be too unruly, too dangerous a force. Too powerful. They feared it. What it could do. What it could inspire furs to do. What it could give them. Pleasure. Hope ... confidence. Faith. Joy ... no, love was not to be tolerated. Or accepted. Rather, lust ... was encouraged. Keep the populace in lust, and they would mire themselves in their own pain and longing ... until they'd given themselves away. Until their was nothing left.
But allow a population to love, and ... something would grow. Ideas, values ... hearts would expand.
But Peregrine and Audrey walked rather closely ... nearly side-by-side. Down a cracked sidewalk. Past an old wooden saloon (now a modern-day bar ... complete with satellite television). To the alley between the bottled raspberry iced tea factory (or was it a plant ... rather than a factory) ... between that an the general store.
"Don't they have alarms on the doors? What if we open an emergency door," Peregrine worried. "Set off an alarm?"
"Then we'll just to run for it ... you're the scurrying sort, remember?"
"I can faster than you ... "
"Uh-huh."
"But, if we have to run, what about you ... I won't leave you ... "
"Perry, stop worrying."
"But ... "
"Stop. Stop," she whispered.
He did so, and ... eyes darted. And heart hammered, and ... he watched as his mate reached for the handle of the side-door.
Audrey paused ... paw on the handle. And swallowed. And pulled it ...
... open ... letting cooler air filter out. Letting the scent of raspberries (and tea leaves) sweep past their noses.
"Mm ... " A deep, curious breath. "Well ... no alarm," she said. And looked to the mouse.
"You go first," he told her.
"So, if there's, like, lasers or falling axes ... they'll hit me first, and you'll know whether it's safe or not?" A bit of a grin.
"No ... femme furs ... first. It's courtesy."
"Ah ... "
"Aud ... "
"I'm teasing, Perry ... teasing ... " She slipped into the building, and ...
... he quickly followed. Making sure to stay close to her tail. Wanting, in fact, to reach out and ... simply grab her luxurious black and white tail. To hold it. To feel it. To not let go of her, but ... that would only distract him. He needed to keep all his senses focused on his surroundings. Not on the scent of her (and the aroma of the shampoo that still lingered in her fur). Not on the smell of the raspberries and the tea leaves, and not of the other things in the air ...
Audrey padded down a corridor. Stopped. Paused. "Hear that?" she whispered.
Sounds of "whir-whir-whir" ...
"Must be ... machines?" Peregrine guessed. "Cutting the tea leaves, or crushing them, or ... brewing?"
"Yeah ... " A pause. A head-tilt. "The head office. Maybe they have ... like, maybe there's some kind of memo in the head office."
"Like they're gonna write down their plan on paper? For all eyes to see?"
"A predator would ... "
"If there are predators in this building ... "
"Perry, I don't know, okay? Let's just ... explore. I don't know what we're looking for. Some kind of evidence. Something that's not circumstantial. Something we can go to other furs with ... some kind of proof."
"Will it make any difference? No-fur in this town is willing to fight ... we're not fighters."
"We may have to be," was all she said.
"Let's go back ... let's ... "
" ... go in there."
The mouse perked. "Where?"
"Two doors down." A nod ... in the direction of the wooden, tan door. With the metal knob. "Looks like the office."
"What if some-fur's in there?"
"You've a nose, don't you? Mice have keen noses ... use your nose."
Peregrine frowned, and ... as they padded to the door, he did so. Sniffy-sniffing ... sniff-twitching. Whiskers waggling. "Mm ... one fur. A mouse."
"A mouse? We can trust a mouse, right?"
"Of course! You can trust a mouse," he said (defensively). "I'm a mouse ... "
"I'd, uh ... kind of noticed," she said with a sly wink.
Peregrine flushed, and ... sniffed more. "Mm ... but not an ordinary mouse."
"No?"
"No, it's ... something's different about the mouse in there," he whispered.
"Well, we have to go in ... Perry, we can't stay in the hallway here. We have to ... " She was already turning the knob.
Peregrine bolted to stop her, but ...
... too late!
The door opened, pushed inward ... and Audrey slipping into the darkened office. Half-pulling a twitching Peregrine inside (with her), and ... quickly closing the door, and spotting a large-eared, multi-colored mouse ...
"W-what ... who are you?" he asked, eyes darting. Sitting ... looking very tired. Very scared.
"Friends," was Audrey's response.
"Prey," whispered Peregrine, knowing how to reach a fellow mouse. "We're prey ... we won't hurt you."
"She's not prey," Advance said. Of the skunk.
"She's my mate. She won't hurt you ... "
The pinon mouse quivered a bit, and ... nodded. "Mm ... but who are you, and what are you doing here? If you wanted to meet with me, you should've gone to the lobby. We have a receptionist ... "
"We were trying to ... be discreet."
"Why?" he asked Audrey.
"You're not any variety of mouse ... I've seen," Peregrine whispered. This mouse before him wasn't a house, field, or ... whatever mouse. He was a dessert mouse, wasn't he ...
"Look, uh ... I need to know who you are? Are you working for Mandy? Is this ... is she playing mind games with me?"
"Mandy?"
"She's ... " A swallow. "She's taking the reigns of the Sheridan Conspiracy. She's, uh ... in the factory. She's dangerous. I wouldn't let her catch you here." The dessert mouse's eyes ... darted.
"I'm Peregrine," said Peregrine. "My mate is ... Audrey. We live in this town. Just like you do. We've never met, but ... we know how it is. We know the fear. We ... heard rumors."
"Rumors?"
"That 'The Board' is going to use your tea ... oh, I love your tea, by the way," Audrey said. "It's the only tea I drink."
A blush. "Well ... it's a family recipe. You know, it's ... it's about the ingredients AND how they're prepared. You know? So many furs today ... they make haste of the preparation." A shake of the head. "Taste bud disaster, right there ... "
"Hey," interrupted Peregrine, eyes wide.
"Oh ... yeah, we better ... not get sidetracked," agreed Audrey.
"My name's Advance," said the pinon mouse. "I, uh ... this is my tea factory. It was my father's before it was mine, and ... whatever rumors you've heard," he confided, "are true. 'The Board' is trying to use my tea to brainwash the town and ... even furs beyond the town limits. Mandy is overseeing the operation. She's come from Sheridan, Indiana, and she's ... unstable. To say the least. She's ... she wants to step over 'The Board' and control the Conspiracy herself, but ... I don't know. I don't ... I'm scared. I ... I can't stop them."
"Maybe we can ... find a way," Audrey whispered, "to help."
"Aud ... "
"Perry, we have to. Anyway, he's a fellow mouse, right? You're not gonna NOT help ... a fellow mouse. And your MATE, to boot."
"So, I'm ... mired in this ... by association?"
"Something like that."
"Mandy is dangerous," Advance repeated. "You don't know ... in order to stop her plan ... I don't know what it would take. Or how you could do it. I can't see her being dissuaded, and I can't see me or my employees ... offering any successful rebellion."
"We'll think of something. We'll just have to ... think of," Audrey whispered, "something." She let out a breath.
"The phone lines are monitored," Advance reminded. "I could come to your house ... at night."
"And risk being tracked by the guard trolleys?" Peregrine asked.
"I live on the outskirts ... I can evade the trolleys. I was born in a harsh environment. I can ... I can manage," Advance insisted.
"Alright ... " Audrey went for a pen, writing down on a piece of paper ... their address. Directions. "We're the only house on our gravel road. Two miles outside of town. We don't have a car, so ... "
"Neither do I," Advance said. "I can walk ... "
A nod.
The guard trolleys prohibited, generally, automobiles. Promoted walking. And taking the trolleys themselves (which most furs were loathe to do).
"Tonight, ten-o'clock," Audrey said. "We'll meet and ... try and come up with something."
"Make sure you're not being followed," Peregrine added.
"I will," Advance insisted.
Peregrine nodded back at his fellow mouse, and ... eyes moving past him, looked out the glass windows that overlooked the main brewing floor. Where the tea was made. Where the tea was bottled. Where the workers (mostly ground squirrels) were busy ...
"I hope Mandy's not terrorizing them," Advance said ... twitching. "My employees are like family to me." He had no mate. No family. Not anymore. The pi?on mouse was alone. Unique ... and alone. He often wondered if it was BECAUSE of his uniqueness. A swallow. "You should go," Advance insisted. He had no reason to trust these furs ... he'd only known them for a few minutes, but ... he was desperate. Maybe they could help. Maybe, together, they could all ... do something.
Do something ...
... maybe.
Audrey, grabbing Peregrine's tail ... reeling him to her side, nodded, and opened the door, peered about, and slipped away. The grey-furred mouse following.
And Advance stood, pacing, padding ... heart hammering. Feeling nauseous. And he went to the glass window. Squinted. Scanned. Saw Mandy.
The cheetah sipping raspberry iced tea from a crystal glass ... and she looked up (feeling eyes on her), and she raised her glass to him. And grinned a toothy grin.
Advance, eyes watering, turned away ... and sat down. To breathe, breathe ...
... breathe another frantic breath.