The Bagel Bill Incident
AUTHOR'S NOTE -- A brand-new adventure from "The Sheridan Conspiracy" ... a bit out-of-nowhere, I guess, but ... I felt compelled to expand on the mysteries, and ... this piece, more than not, develops Ma Sparta some more.
Night, and in bed, and ...
... ring! (A piercing sound in the dark. Drowning out their steady huffs and heart-hammers.) A rustle. Of sheets and wings ... and paws and bare foot-paws. Tails.
Ring! (Too much like a trolley. Made you shiver.)
A squeak.
"I'll ... get it," was the panting chitter.
"Don't answer it ... "
"Late-night calls are ... are usually ... "
Ring!
" ... important."
"But ... Adelaide," was the mousey stammer.
"Hello?" The pink-furred bat asked. Trying to clear her mind (of such thoughts!) ... she and Field, bat and mouse. Mates. Still in Sheridan town. Seven months after defeating General Sheridan. After sidelining the guard trolleys.
Seven months.
But it wasn't over.
They both knew that ...
" ... yeah," Adelaide whispered. A pause. "Well ... yeah. But can't it ... "
Field, eyes closed, belly on the sheets ... he swallowed. His chin on a pillow. His dishy, sensitive ears hearing (partially) the words coming out of the receiver.
It was Ma. Ma Sparta. The robot panther. A key member of the Sheridan rebellion.
For all towns named Sheridan (in the US, and maybe elsewhere, too) were linked by a diabolical Civil War-era network ... bent on power, lust, greed. Global domination.
They'd fought it, and were fighting it still, and ...
" ... alright. We'll meet you there." Pause. "Yeah." And the bat delicately hung the phone up, lowering to her back. Taking a breath.
The mouse sliding atop of her. His slender, warm weight. Asking, "What?"
Her lightness. Her softness. Her reply ... " ... there's a problem in Ohio."
Field's nose and whiskers twitched. "P-problem ... what do you mean?" That rising panic. Those high, squeaky pitches.
"Hey ... " She was telepathic. She knew his (every) mood. And attempted to calm him.
"Well ... " A few more twitches. Calming.
"They just need our help, is all. It shouldn't be too dangerous." Her words were guarded. Downplaying 'dangerous' ...
"I was hoping ... no more of this," he whispered. His voice faltered. As it was liable to do.
Her paws on his sides, though ... made it okay. And a locking of their eyes. Something exchanged. Confidence, perhaps. Or grace ... flowing from her. To him.
Symbiotic.
In love, and knowing ...
" ... we have to do this."
The mouse swallowed (again). Nodded. "What's in Ohio, though?"
A pause. And a whispered, "Bagels."
"You okay?"
A quiet, blank nod.
"You car-sick, mouse?" asked Ma, who was driving.
"He's not car-sick."
"Then what is he?'
"He's tired."
"I'm fine," was Field's whispered reply, whiskers twitching.
Adelaide, in the passenger seat ... her eyes went to the rearview mirror. Indirectly meeting his gaze.
"I'm fine," he repeated.
They'd been in the car for an hour. Over an hour. Ma's car. A small, yellow-colored thing. "I stole this from Mandy."
"You told us," Adelaide said, adjusting her seatbelt (so it didn't press into her winged arms).
Ma's eyes narrowed. Already feline. Already slitted. But narrowing more. "Mandy used to terrorize me."
"Terrorize?" Field asked from the back, paws together and on his lap. Not staying entirely still.
"This car. Her and her yellow car. She'd drive it up and down the rural roads. Slowly. So I saw." A breath. "She'd hire wolves to knock on my door in the middle of the night ... hoping I'd answer. And those cows in the pasture? Lord knows they were up to something."
"Well ... we defeated Mandy, though," was Field's response.
"Did we?" was Ma's counter. Looking into the rearview mirror, and then back to the road ahead.
Silence.
"Damn beatniks," Ma cursed, changing lanes. "Think they can drive ... "
"You're going over the speed limit ... "
"Better than the speed limit going over me," was the response. And a toothy grin. "Right, mouse?"
Field gave no response.
Freeing Sheridan, Indiana, from the clutches of the Sheridan Network ... had done little to lessen Ma's barbed personality. She was a firecracker. Maybe with a soft interior. But how many layers did she have? What was the TRUE her? Even now, she was guarded.
It was in her nature.
Survival instinct.
"One time," Ma continued, switching lanes again (Field wished Adelaide was driving) ... " ... one time, I was jogging behind the school ... "
"Do robots need to jog?" was the pink-furred bat's query.
"Keeps our circuits goin' ... anyway ... yes, I was jogging. Out comes Mandy, in this yellow car here. In this lemon. Tries to RUN me over."
Field's eyes widened.
"Yeah. Yeah ... luckily, I skirted into the outdoor education center. Got into the corn field. Open air and sunset after that. Mandy, she was honking her horn like only a cheetah could." A pause. "Some 'sister' she turned out to be, huh?"
The mouse and bat said nothing.
"Mandy was always jealous of me. I was always Mrs. Mauve's favorite. Even after ... my various punishments ... I had personality. Mandy? Too sinister, in that one-dimensional way. Can't hold a decent conversation with Mandy."
"Don't' need to worry about that with you, though," Adelaide supplied.
And a toothy, purring grin from Ma. "I like you, bat. You got that ... color about you."
"I try."
"I'm sure." Pause. Passing a car. Another.
Field swallowed in the back seat.
"Why couldn't C come?" Adelaide asked.
"We can't have all the major players of our rebellion on the lamb. Not all at once. She's in charge until we get back."
"All that clout ... "
"She'll be fine." A breath.
Quiet.
"What are these ... bagels? You haven't told us," was Field's squeaky voice.
"Sheridan, Ohio," Ma explained. "A minor link in the Network. After all, it's ... in a region of back-roads and strip-mines. Buckeyes are far too mild. Too complacent. Sheridan, Ohio, has never been too big a concern. It was there. Still is. But ... it's a forgotten town."
"But?"
"A new eatery. Bagel Bill's." A pause. Licking her lips. "Apparently, these bagels ... rile furs up. To mania. To feverish devotion to the cause ... in this case, the Sheridan Conspiracy. Once eaten, they need the bagels. Will do anything for them. Assures their loyalty, and ... well, we believe that after Sheridan, Indiana's secession ... Sheridan, Ohio, started scheming. They wish to take Indiana's place as the Eastern hub of the Network."
"And they're doing this through ... bagels?"
"Diabolical," Adelaide whispered.
"Visionary," Ma whispered. "Unfortunately for us."
"What are we going to do, exactly?" Field asked.
"Destroy Bagel Bill's."
'Won't that leave a town of furs ... as cold-turkey bagel addicts?"
"They'll get through it. They can have English muffins instead. As long as we ensure their town STAYS a non-threat." A breath. "We do anything it takes," she whispered, leaving certain implications left unsaid.
Field sighed (a shaky, scared sigh), leaning back. Looking out the window.
They weren't there yet. So, no need to ask.
And, in his mind, he heard, "It'll be alright. We've done this stuff before ... "
And the mouse just nodded. Thinking back to his mate, "I know ... "
"But?" was her thought.
He had no response.
"It got quiet in here," observed Ma. "Why'd it get quiet in here?"
"You can always turn the radio on," was the bat's suggestion.
"And listen to all that hip-hop-a-bee-bop racket? Mind rot," Ma insisted, "is what it is." Her eyes scanned the road. A predator scanning for prey. "I feel like some DQ."
"You had DQ before we left ... besides, you don't even NEED to eat."
"Changing the subject, bat? Don't think I don't know when you two are having telepathic yiff ... however that works ... "
"We are not," Field defended.
"Then why'd it get so quiet?"
Adelaide sighed. "Think what you want ... "
"I often do."
A pause.
The bat observing, shifting in the passenger seat, "Ever since word of Mandy's 'death' in Sheridan, Wyoming ... you've been confrontational. More than usual, anyway. Your sass is more ... brooding."
Ma was quiet. "My sass doesn't have LEVELS," was her eventual response.
"I think it does," was the bat's careful whisper. "We're WINNING this fight. The conspiracy will unravel, and ... "
" ... and then what? When it's all over? When we destroy every last model of Mandy, and ... when I short-circuit in thirty years?" A quiver. Paws gripping the wheel. "I wasn't made by God. You two were. I ... I wasn't. I'm a robot. Made by furs. I have no soul ... like you do."
The other two were quiet.
"There's no heaven for me," Ma whispered blankly.
Adelaide swallowed. Opened her muzzle. And then shut it.
"You're sentient," Field offered quietly. "As long as you ... believe, and repent, and live a ... "
" ... mouse? I appreciate your gentility. I do, but ... " Ma blinked wearily. "I'm not asking you to solve this problem." A pause. "But, yes, bat," she said, eyeing Adelaide, "my sass level is ... high. I admit it."
"Ma, I'm ... "
"Don't feel sorry for me. I'm Ma Sparta." A pause. "I give out free potatoes. I don't need ... your pity," she whispered.
The bat just nodded.
And Field slumped in the back seat. Getting, now, car-sick ... actually. "I, uh ... need a motrin," he said weakly.
"I got some," Adelaide said.
Ma kept her eyes glued to the road. She couldn't wait 'til they got to Ohio. It'd been too long between hunts. Bagel Bill? He (and his bagels) were toast.
Bagels for breakfast.
For brunch.
Lunch!
Snacking!
And for supper.
These were 'bagels like no other.' Or so claimed Bagel Bill's slogan. He was a fox. A red-orange fox. Generically mysterious, and with that guile that many foxes had (or thought they had). Guile could be a weakness, though. But ...
" ... not for me," he whispered, casually making the rounds. It was mid-afternoon in the shop, which was on main street. A lot of abandoned buildings on main street. This place wasn't hard to find. And furs came. Furs were here. All around. Nibbling, tearing, chewing into bagels, and sipping from drinks. Most of them too glazed-over to engage in conversation or any real sort of social discourse. Too busy with ...
... poppy-seed. Sesame seed.
Regular! And cinnamon!
Blueberry ... cheddar. And chocolate chip!
Bill stopped at the counter, going behind it ... behind the register. A chipmunk was sitting on one of the stools, hunched over a bit.
"How's it going, Lyle?"
The chipmunk looked up. His brown fur (with the darker-brown stripes) was a bit unkempt. He spent most of his time here, after all. For many furs, this WAS their home ... and there was always a line, so once you GOT in, you stayed in.
"Lyle?"
The chipmunk was on his second bagel. On a breaded high, basically. Which made him (and the others in this town) easy to control. The populace wouldn't incite rebellion if you had something they NEEDED.
The Sheridan Conspiracy had experimented with mind-controlling substances before, of course. Most recently in Sheridan, Wyoming, with raspberry iced tea. But tea was a liquid.
Food?
Perhaps a better method of distribution. It seemed to be working, anyway. Thus far.
"Lyle?" Again.
"It's ... going," was the distant response.
"Good." A sly grin. "Good." A pause. "There's a Guard Trolley parade tomorrow. And a pro-Sheridan rally tonight. You coming?"
"I ... am," Lyle replied. Used to, Lyle had been PART of the underground rebellion. Actually, he was a Hoosier transplant. The kind you'd never think could be so easily turned. But ...
"Good, Lyle. Enjoy your bagels." It was more a command than anything.
Gnaw-gnaw-gnaw.
Oh, he did! Oh, he was! Oh ...
... when Lyle had first found Bagel Bill's, he'd KNOWN something was up. A baked goods shop? Run by a FOX? Foxes were horrible cooks. And they didn't even like bread. For one. Also, the location, and the sneaky, subliminal advertising, and how the Guard Trolleys wouldn't park there ... as if by some silent understanding.
And he'd gone in.
Had opened the door one day, with a deep breath, and had gone inside.
Purely as infiltration, of course.
Purely.
But ... a part of him wanted to taste those bagels. Just to see. He had to find out, and that aroma coming from the place, and ... but he went in. And did, indeed, take a single bite of a bagel. He thought he could get away with it. But, oh, it smelled so good, and the taste! And before consciously realizing it, he'd eaten the whole thing. And with urges of, "have a bagel" being whispered seductively into his ears ... well ...
... soon, he was in there every day.
And making excuses about WHY he was there.
Lying. Saying he was investigating, or ... something. But, no. Just scarfing bagels.
The other members of the Sheridan, Ohio, rebellion had confronted him.
He'd lied to them, too. And, ultimately, he hooked them. Got them to try bagels, and they got others, and ...
... pretty soon, the whole town was a lost cause.
Bill had used Lyle to convince others to try the bagels.
Bill, through Lyle, achieved what 'The Board' had hired him to do: turn the residents of this sleepy Sheridan ... into controllable creatures.
Lyle despised himself for aiding the enemy, but ... he was helpless. A captive. The road to Hell, he now knew, was paved with not only good intentions, but good bagels, as well. Among other things.
Lyle was an accomplice.
And Bill?
Bill had the entire town in his paws. And was getting paid handsomely to ensure it stayed this way.
They parked outside of town. It was always best to do so. Otherwise, the Guard Trolleys would destroy your vehicle. And find your scent more quickly.
"All Sheridan towns are the same, aren't they?" Ma mused. "Just ... anchored in different destinations."
"That doesn't make any sense," Field mumbled.
"Cheer up, mouse."
"I am cheered."
"Are we going RIGHT to Bagel Bill's?" Adelaide asked.
"I should think so," was Ma's response. She narrowed her feline eyes. They were entering the town limits. "Quick strike. In. Out. And go back home."
"You sound eager to get this over with. I would've thought, of all of us, you relished tussles with 'The Board' ... "
"This isn't my Sheridan. It's not OUR Sheridan ... the fact that we're being called in to handle this situation is simply proof of the general incompetence of our fellow furs. I paid my dues. I made sacrifices. Finally, a bit of rest? A bit of peace? No ... " A pause, and then going into a grassy stretch along the side of a road, toward the bricked main street. The other two following. "Now, when we get there," she began, doling out instructions, "you'll notice the smell."
"Smell?" asked Field.
"Aroma. Scent. The wafting of the baked goods. It's rather strong. You'll salivate. You'll WANT to eat. But you won't. Got it?"
Nods.
"Bat, you'll place a fake order. To go. Be dull about it. They're all drones. If you show any personality, they'll suspect something."
"What should I order?"
"Whatever you want."
"Well ... "
"Hey, don't get thrifty on me. I paid for GAS," Ma said. "Three bucks a gallon. And Mandy's car gets bad milage. Alright? You two can buy the bagels."
"We're not even gonna eat them, though," Field mentioned. "That's kind of a waste of ... "
"Look. I'm not buyin' the damn bagels. Just ... just follow the plan? We agreed on this in the car. I shouldn't even have to repeat myself, but I want us to be SURE of what we're doing. Cause, once Bill figures out we're here to bring him down ... we'll be attacked. The only thing going in our favor right now is the element of surprise. And our personal experiences. Cause this isn't OUR Sheridan, and ... they know it better than we do. We have to maneuver carefully."
Another pause, and more walking. The sky was blue, somewhat. A bit overcast. That late-summer warmth that wasn't as sharply hot as you remembered it, but ... hot enough. Lingering warmth. The kind you didn't want to slip away, but ... it was going to. Along with the crickets and cicadas, it would slip away.
"Now, bat, while you order, the mouse will look for the bathroom."
"What if I don't have to go?"
"You always have to go. You went at every stop on the way down," Ma said.
The mouse made a face. "I have a small bladder ... "
"You go, BUT ... you, while there, search for other doors. Back doors. Maybe anything that goes into the kitchen. Snoop around. We NEED his recipes. He could've given them to other furs in other Sheridan towns ... we need the recipes to combat any other potential food schemes."
"And what about you?"
Ma paused. "I deal with Bill," she whispered.
"Deal with him?" Field asked.
"She's going to take him out," Adelaide explained quietly.
"Oh."
"It has to be done. He'll only start up somewhere else ... " A pause. "Besides, we have suspicions that he's a spin-off model of a Mandy-bot."
"You'll ... be terminating one of your own kind?"
"If one works FOR the conspiracy ... they cease to be my own kind."
"What about ... "
" ... redemption? Robots have no souls, remember? Bill can't be redeemed. He's PROGRAMMED. He's MADE that way ... furs made him that way."
"What about you?" Field asked quietly.
"I'm Ma Sparta," was all Ma said. As if that explained it all.
And the other two furs didn't press the matter.
The trio simply walked. To the heart of Sheridan, Ohio.
Adelaide sauntered (slowly) into the shop. It was a small, quaint place, with little, wooden tables. With old-time decorations on the wall. Nice, soft lights (but not so soft that they hurt your eyes). And a big glass display shelf with the selection in full view. All the tasty morsels one could want. All relating to baked goods.
And the aroma was, indeed, a salivating kind.
"What do you want?" A grey wolf behind the register asked. (He was a bit snarky.)
Adelaide, playing dumb, said, "Muffins."
"We don't SERVE muffins." The wolf showed his teeth. Obviously, he was one of Bill's goons. And a goon for the local chapter of 'The Board' ... he was doing this cause he was paid, too, and cause it kept him from being subjected ... like all the prey and sympathetic predator furs were. Regardless, he was dishing out some bad customer service.
"I want ... muffins," the bat said blankly.
"We have bagels."
"Blueberry bug ... "
" ... bagels? Blueberry bagels?" the wolf asked, speaking in condescending tones.
"I would like some ... blueberry bagels," the bat finally said.
"How many?"
"Many."
"How many?"
"Many. I would like ... many."
"Yes, but HOW many?"
In the meantime, Field was slipping into the back of the shop. Toward the bathroom and a few other doors (which had vague signs on them).
And Ma took a careful seat near the large window (which looked out into the main-street). And the train tracks. She sat, acting all of feline suspicion and grace. If Bill WERE a form of Mandy-bot (all robots were Mandy-bots, as Mandy was the first model ... it was a basic form of classification) ... if Bill were a robot, his internal systems would detect the presence of another mechanical being.
Of her.
She waited.
After using the bathroom, Field peeked his nose out of the door. Nose and whiskers sniff-twitching the air, and then ... he crept out, and then went toward the back of the shop, toward another door. It wasn't even marked or anything. But it WAS sort of tucked away. Surely, this wasn't the kitchen entrance?
Trembling a bit (but feeling Adelaide's telepathic presence ... which kept him under control), he put his paw on the doorknob.
Locked.
A sigh (of relief), and he turned around, and ...
... a squeak! And Adelaide, leaving her order (of blueberry bagels), rushed to Field. Who was being held (by the arms) by a fox. A red-orange fox.
"Bill," said Ma, standing now. Behind Adelaide.
"You don't smell of this place. Any of you. Thought you could sneak in on me, huh?" Bill crowed. "Like I didn't KNOW your little rebellion would swoop in and try and stop me? The rebellion here ... tried that. I beat them. And, now, OTHER Sheridan towns are taking swipes at me? You know what that is?"
No answer.
"Desperation."
"I know you're a robot, Bill," Ma said calmly, playing her cars right. Baiting him.
Bill squinted. Showing his teeth. "As are you ... obviously. You must be the great Ma Sparta." A pause. "I've heard about you."
"Let the mouse go."
"No. No, I let him go ... and what bargaining tool do I have?" He squeezed Field's arms hard. So that they hurt.
The mouse squeaked and writhed a bit.
"Outside. We're going outside. I won't have my establishment wrecked by the likes of you. Or the likes of ANYONE." No one moved. "Outside!" the fox barked.
Adelaide slowly did as told, flooded with the anxiety and fear radiating from her mate, and ... Ma, squinting, followed Adelaide.
And, Bill, clasping on Field and bringing up the tail of the group, he ...
... was thrown back as Ma spun! Delivering a vicious kick!
Leaving Field to chitter and stumble away. And leaving the drone-like customers of the shop to ... suddenly go wide-eyed. And suddenly panic. Tables toppling over, chairs being picked up. Being thrown at Ma!
Bill used the distraction to bolt back into the kitchen. His recipes. He needed to upload and send out his recipes across ALL the Network ... they might be able to stop him, but not his bagels! Not ... not his bagels ...
... and Ma, swiping away the zombie-furs, she made it back into the kitchen, too, but was suddenly in front of a shelf. Lots of pots, pans. Ingredients. And she looked around. Sniffed the air.
Sounds of ovens. Dish washers. Kitchen sounds.
And the smell of flour. And of a bit of fruit, and a bit of cinnamon. And the air was warmer than she would've liked.
"You don't have to do this, Ma."
The panther squinted. Looking around. Ears cocked, and feline tail ... dangling with poise. "I think we both know that I do."
"Dammit, Ma, you were created to be a PART of all this! Why are you fighting it? Fighting us?" the fox asked. "Your own kind."
"Your appeal," Ma whispered, "to my heritage ... will not distract me. Will not delay me." Moving around a corner. Tensing. Nothing there. Taking a breath, and eyes squinting, slitted, and darting about. "You're preying on a town that's so many rungs below you on the food chain ... that it's like picking on children. You should be ashamed."
"I do what I'm hired to do."
"Who made you? Did Mauve make you? Like she made me and Mandy?"
"Mandy ... says hello, Ma. By the way."
Ma swallowed.
"That's right. I met the latest Mandy model. Just before I came here ... she warned me that, because of the proximity of Sheridan, Ohio, to Sheridan, Indiana ... that you may, if I succeeded, end up coming over here. To try and stop me. As the last, valiant ... charge, as it were. You do like the dramatic, don't you, Ma? You like to put on a show."
"And you like the sound of your own voice," she whispered, turning another corner, and tensing, and ... there he was. Back to the wall. "I've never liked foxes."
"A slur?"
"A preference," was her response.
"Funny ... that you make friends with prey. That bat and mouse? Worthless. The pair of them ... why even bring them down here? You must've known it would come down to the two of us."
"They're good furs."
"Good ... is a relative term."
Ma took a step forward. Claws extending from their pads. Robots didn't bleed ... like furs bled. Robots took special care to disassemble. "I have to ask you ... "
Bill readied himself to fight.
" ... why bagels?"
A tilt of his head. A cocky grin. "They're a full circle. The anti-thesis of the doughnut ... no sweetness. But STILL a perfect ring, and a hole in the middle. Like an eye ... who can resist such ... poetry of the muzzle? Such culinary art?"
"I can," Ma said, swinging a paw, "for one."
Bill caught her paw. Crushed it. But ...
... Ma didn't even wince, and swung her leg, and brought his legs out from under him. He fell, and ...
... brought his legs back, knees to a bend, and kicked out at her, sending her sprawling. Pots and pans clattered, and ...
" ... they must be fighting!" Field exclaimed, whiskers twitching, ears swiveling. Tail snaking. Nose flaring. Everything! Mousey motions!
"Calm down!" Adelaide chittered, her fingers flying over a keyboard ... to the computer found in the office. Right next to the staff break room, just outside the kitchen. "All ... all the recipes are here," said the pink-furred bat, nodding, nodding. "We need a disc. Look for a disc ... "
Field opened drawers, cabinets ... throwing things to the floor (which was driving him insane, being he was such a compulsive neat-freak). "I can't find any disks!"
"There's gotta be one," Adelaide said, trying to be the voice of calm.
"Um ... um ... here! Here," Field whispered frantically, giving her one.
The bat took it, put it in the computer, and began to download all the bagel recipes, all the mind-controlling agents used in the food ... all the furs Bagel Bill had been in contact with. "My word," she whispered.
"What?" Field squinted, pressing his nose closer to the screen. Blinking, pulling back a bit ... trying to see ...
"'The Board' has a whole team of scientists working on mind agents. The tea, the bagels ... those aren't all. I mean, there's ... dozens of things here."
"Well ... well," Field stammered, "we can look at it later. I think we better go."
They heard the crashes coming from the kitchen. The fight between Ma and Bill, and the mouse and bat didn't wish to intrude on that. Too dangerous.
Let them slug it out.
Slam!
Sprawl!
And, with a hiss, Ma raised a huge cooking sheet and brought it down, but the resistance of the air ... lessened the blow, and the fox raked at her legs. She kicked, and ... reached down, down, her paw grasping his ear. There was a shut-off mechanism at the ear-base. The ear had to be ripped off to reach it, and then press it, and ...
... but she was pinned back! Bill back on his foot-paws. Pinned. To the counter, and ...
... Bill was pressed to her. Belly-to-belly, both of them heaving. Being the realistic robots they were, they were both matted with a bit of sweat. Their fur was hot to the touch, and ...
... the fox pressed his muzzle to hers.
Catching her by surprise. But, for some reason, she didn't fight it. Kept her eyes closed, though. As if that could render the action more ... poetic. More ... more something. Maybe just 'more.'
The kiss broken, the fox panted, swallowed ... and looked her in the eyes. From so close. "Well ... Ma ... "
"Why'd you do that?" she whispered weakly. In a feminine way. Of course, she was a femme, but ... she was steely! She wasn't the type to respond to passion. And, squinting, she shoved him back. "Why'd you do that!" she demanded.
The fox shrugged. "You looked," he said quietly, "like you needed it."
And Ma, shaking, lashed out, pinning HIM to the wall, hissing into his ear, "If you think for one moment you're gonna stop me from doing what I came here to do ... "
"No dreams of stopping you, Ma. You're a legend," Bill wheezed, the artificial breath being squeezed from him. "I just ... had to do that."
Their eyes met.
Her paw went to his ear. She hesitated. Damn conspiracy. The things it made her do ... and ... but Bill had to be stopped. He was one of them! The enemy! And he was a fox, full of guile, and would do anything to distract her, right?
He was playing mind games with her ... must've been, and ...
... yank!
A yipping howl! His ear off, and ...
"You've ruined the bagel shop!" chittered Lyle. He was in a dazed panic ... stumbling around, almost dizzy. "Bagels ... bagels ... "
"You'll have withdrawal symptoms for a few days, all of you," Adelaide explained to the furs who remained in and outside the shop ... " ... but you're free now! You must gather together ... dismantle the trolleys. Do anything. 'The Board' will try this again. They'll bring in someone else, or try some other form of control," she warned, "unless you clear your heads, band together, and fight ... "
Lyle, slumping into a booth, nodded.
And some other furs murmured.
Adelaide, taking a slow, gentle breath, added, "You can all be redeemed."
"How?" some-fur asked.
"Sacrifice." A pause. "No bagels, no ... dark, tempting conspiracy. Look what it's doing to you ... "
"Adelaide," whispered Field, tugging submissively on his mate's wing.
The bat raised her brow, turned, and ... saw Ma. Haggard-looking, emerging from the kitchen. Heaving.
"Ma?" the bat asked.
"Let's go," the panther rasped.
"What ... "
" ... let's," she emphasized, "go. Before the trolleys come."
Adelaide nodded, and ushered Field out the door. Ma following, and the dazed, bagel-less furs ... stumbling into the light. Blinking.
Nature? What was that?
Sun? Air?
Birds?
Free of the spell of the technological wizardry of the conspiracy ... the Sheridan, Ohio, furs ... spilled into the light again. Filled with a growing awareness that they had another chance. They'd been duped and controlled once. But this time? Next time?
And, Lyle, for one, swore off ring-shaped breads (of all kinds) then and there.
After a few hours of traveling, it was getting dark. It had been a full day, and ... they were almost home.
Ma was driving. Had insisted she could handle it.
Field and Adelaide made quiet, wispy small-talk. Ma listened, and ... began to smile. Remembering how Bill had asked her ... why bring those two along?
Field giggle-squeaked, whispering something into Adelaide's ear, and the bat gave a toothy smile.
Love. Those two were saturated in it. Love, growth, maturity ... overcoming everything. Every darkness and ... they were evidence of hope.
Evidence of life.
And Ma was fighting for them and every-fur like them.
She'd brought them along because she needed them.
They were her friends.
Family.
Forever.