FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

For Your Paws Only

Prologue - Not My Brother's Keeper

"Conrad, we have to talk."

Conrad Jotkowski looked up from the book he had been reading, pushed his wireless rimmed glasses down his snout and regarded his twin sister, Constance, over them.

"What about?" he asked, with little interest.

"I think it's time you got your own place."

Conrad was shocked, although he did not let it show on his face. Except for eight years spent in the Polish army he had always lived with his siter. A full professor of Archeology at the Warsaw University, she was the responsible one, the reasonable one. The last time she had suggested he move out he had enlisted in the Polish Army. When he came home last year he had been certain that she would take him back happily ... but things had changed.

Constance had taken up with an Indian collie, a female collie named Ksi, while he was away. The short, red-haired canine was an heiress, rich enough to finance his sisters most extravagant digs. More and more often Conrad found himself alone in the old mansion they called home, but he did not think that he was a burden. He thought of himself more of a caretaker really, thus his confusion at the suggestion that he should move out.

He shifted uncomfortably in the silence that followed her statement. His brown-furred coyote body was long and lean, but well-toned from his recent military service. His sister was lean also, with muscle built up during a hundred excursions to tropical jungles and dessert ruins. Despite her loose clothing he knew that her body was identical to his, knowledge gained from spying on her and her lovers when they were younger. Even her glasses were almost identical to his, although she preferred the pince-nez variety. Neither of them needed them for much more than reading small print.

"Why do you want me to leave, Constance?" He asked in as even a tone as he could muster.

"Because you are wasting your life moping around here." She replied, sitting on a low filing cabinet as she did. "Its time that you went out and made something of yourself."

"I made a pretty good soldier for eight years."

"You and I both know that you were just running from something, not towards anything."

He opened his mouth to retort but closed it again without saying anything. She was right. He had been running away.

Their parents had died in an accident just as they were about to graduate from high school. Diplomats, they had travelled the world with the twins, raising them in several languages and exposing them to many cultures. The experience had kindled a love of archaeology in Constance, who they had sent to private schools to foster her interests. Equally intelligent and quick to learn, Conrad had picked up languages easily enough, but he never developed an interest in cultures, or any other academic subject for that matter. He just hung around wherever they were living and waited for his sister to come home. His siter and her friend, actually.

Constance's best friend in those days was her intellectual opposite. A busty, green-eyed, blond-haired cheetah by the name of Geno who was as daring as Constance was cautious, a bohemian spirit that lived for physical and sensuous experiences as Constance lived for the scientific method. When the two of them came home for the holidays life was never boring.

For the adolescent Conrad it was also a time of sexual awakening, and Geno seemed determined that he should experience every variant of sexual intercourse. But as soon as he started thinking that they had a thing going, she vanished.

Geno had disappeared a dozen years ago, just after their parents died, and without her the dynamic had changed. Constance had thrown herself into her archaeological studies, and he had drifted in and out of different academic programs, never staying long enough to earn any credits toward even a general degree. Mostly he just hung about the mansion they had inherited.

Two years after Geno's disappearance they had gotten drunk and he had tried to get her contact information from his sister, who he suspected still corresponded with the sexy cheetah. He complained that his sister must had come onto Geno and driven her away. Constance had gotten mad and began to rail about his faults and lack of direction. He had stumbled from the house and gone to sleep in a bus shelter. When he awoke he had seen the recruiting poster on the side of the shelter and had gone to enlist the very same day. He did not even tell his sister until he had completed basic training and received his first assignment.

Her correspondence during his initial engagement had been infrequent, distant and cold, so when he was offered a position in a special unit he took the opportunity willingly.

He could easily have stayed in the military and made a career of it, but he knew it was not the right fit for him. Orders came down without explanation and there was no room for initiative, so he had taken his release and returned to the mansion, but it was not the same. His sister was in love with the collie, and the collie, despite a loose definition of fidelity, was in love with Constance. Conrad was as much on the outside as when he was away in the army.

Not that there had not been interesting moments in the year that followed.

His sister frowned as if she had read his thoughts, and perhaps she had; as his twin she always seemed to know what he was thinking, although it did not work the other way for him.

"Conrad, I know that you slept with Ksi."

There it was then. A few months prior, when they were staying in a posh hotel at Ksi's expense, Constance had gotten drunk and passed out in the room they shared. Wishing to avoid the noxious burps and farts that his sister was prone to after drinking, as well as the booming snores that intoxication induced, Ksi had come to sleep in Conrad's room. They had not slept much though, as Ksi was a lusty soul and Conrad's ability to resist was weak. Ksi had cleaned up and left long before Constance came too, and Conrad had taken three showers to wipe any trace of the voluptuous collie from his fur.

Yet Constance had found out. He wondered how, and again her sibling mindreading ability shone though.

"She told me." Constance said. "She was feeling so guilty about it that she said she had to confess, even if it made me hate her."

"But you don't hate her, did you?"

"No, and I'm not blaming you either. It would be like hating birds for singing in the morning and then craping on your car. They're just doing what comes naturally to them, and you can still love their song while cursing their crap, but I can't have it happen again."

Conrad knew what she meant. As long as he was around Ksi might seduce him again, and Constance would resent the constant reminder of her infidelity should Conrad stay in the mansion.

He could have argued that the mansion was half his, but he knew that wasn't true either. He had put zero zloty against the mortgage and upkeep of the place since their parents' death. He had even borrowed against his inheritance for the tuition he wasted without ever paying it back. In all fairness, Constance owed him nothing and he had not a grosz to his name.

"Where shall I go? Not back to the army."

"Maybe you should seek your fortunes outside of Poland. Did I tell you that Geno has settled down in Canada?"

Conrad's ears and eyebrows stood up in interest. "No. What is she up to these days?"

"She was scarce on the details, but apparently she got a Government job, something in Foreign Affairs, I think. She said that she travels a lot and hoped to drop in to see us the next time she was in Eastern Europe."

Conrad was intrigued. He had always liked Geno, even if she was a little intimidating. But he was not the same inexperienced young coyote that he had been back then, and it may be interesting to pick up the relationship again.

"Do you have an address for her?"

* * * * * * * * *

Conrad found himself standing on the street where Geno lived on a bitterly cold spring day. It was a quiet residential street near a place they called the Central Experimental Farm. According to Constance's information Geno worked there. Conrad had googled the place and found that several branches of the Canadian Government had offices there, including Agriculture Canada, Health Canada and Natural Resources Canada, but not Foreign Affairs. Constance must have been mistaken about that.

Most of the houses in the area were older, twentieth century semi-detached homes, but the one he was standing in front of was a little newer, a red brick bungalow with a double garage. Probably built to replace a smaller, older home on the large lot. Geno must be doing very well, he mused, to afford a place like this. But he wondered why the bohemian feline would want such a large place in, and in a family-oriented neighborhood.

Conrad had not dressed for the weather. Ottawa proved to be colder than Poland and very humid, but not in a good way. The cold wet wind cut right through his light jacket and the thin clothes he had worn underneath.

Constance suggested that Conrad write to Geno before going to Canada, but he wanted to surprise her, so he had gotten an electronic visa and flown across the Atlantic with nothing more than her address in his pocket. Now that he was standing in front of the house she lived in he was feeling a little nervous, and wished that he had written first. He would have gone back to his hotel and tried to contact her but it was a long walk and he did not know the bus system and the cold wet wind forced him to be brave.

He walked up the driveway, noting the basketball hoop mounted over the garage. He frowned, wondering if Geno had left it up from a pervious owner or whether she used it herself; she was an awfully good jumper, as he recalled. Another oddity that registered was the fact that the cement walkway to the front door did not end in stairs, as most of the other houses on the block did. Instead, it slopped up to a large concrete deck, like a wheelchair ramp would. He briefly wondered if Geno might have gotten hurt in the years since he last saw her, but if she had been crippled why would she need a basketball net? Maybe it was therapeutic?

His mind spinning with the possibilities, he climbed the ramp and rang the doorbell.

There was a short pause after the sound of the bell from inside the house faded away. During the few moments of quiet Conrad could swear that he heard several clicks and a whirring noise like the electric machine guns on the gunships used to make when they were charging up, but the sounds stopped without the expected sound of a thousand rounds a second flying through the air.

He had no idea why he thought of that, and the sight that greeted his eyes when the door opened wiped all other thoughts from his mind.

The door opened to reveal Geno almost as he had remembered her, but she was wearing a white bathrobe and breastfeeding a baby.

"Conrad?"

He could not reply. Not only was the sight of his teen sexual fantasies in such a domestic situation totally unexpected, there was also the matter of the baby. The infant looked like a cheetah, which would have been expected, but it had markings like a fox, and a distinctly foxy black tail with a white tip.

"Jesus, Conrad, you should have called. Get your ass in here before you freeze your balls off."

Geno stood aside while she held the door open with one paw and cradled the suckling baby with the other. Conrad entered in a daze, noting an array of children's coats, boots and backpacks hung by the door.

"Hey Mom, who's at the door?" A young male voice called as footsteps pounded up the stairs from the basement. A red fox of 11 or twelve appeared and stopped dead at the sight of the older coyote standing hesitantly in the foyer.

"Better take your shoes off, mister." The fox advised. "Mom freaks out if anyone tracks dirt into the house.

Conrad looked and saw Geno's well-rounded backside retreating down a short hall as he kicked off his shoes. He hurried to follow her, trailed by the inquisitive fox.

The hall ended in a large, open-concept kitchen. Geno took the baby from her breast and casually covered up after placing it in a swinging basket. The young fox had passed Conrad to join her on the other side of a central island and was staring at the visitor. They were soon joined by a slightly younger female puma that gave Conrad a disinterested look before pulling up a stool and an Arctic hare of about six years old.

"Who's the geek?'' The hare asked.

"Shush your tongue." Geno replied as she adjusted the baby in its swing. "He's a guest."

"A guest?" someone behind Conrad exclaimed. "We never get guests."

Conrad spun around instinctively, startled because whoever it was had managed to sneak up on him without making a sound. To his astonishment it was a male cougar, maybe five years old, in an undersized wheelchair.

Well, he thought, that explains the ramp, but his brain still refused to connect the slutty feline that had been his sister's best friend with this gaggle of children ... especially the half-fox, half cheetah rocking contently on the kitchen island.

Proving to be as good a mind reader as his siter, Geno straightened up and said, "I have to explain a few things."

* * * * * * * * *

Geno left Conrad with the children while she went to change. The oldest made the introductions.

"I'm Aldwin." The polite pre-teen said before pointing to the puma, who was rocking the baby and giggling with it. "That's Belinda, and the hare is Charlie. The cougar doing wheelies to impress you is Darwin. We were all adopted by Mom and Dad, but little Elinor there was born naturally ... sort of."

The explanation only confused Conrad more. Geno was married? To whom? And why didn't she invite him and Constance to the wedding? And what was with these kids? Was she or her husband infertile? Did they adopt until some new fertility treatment allowed her to become pregnant ... a treatment which evidently produced a half-fox/half cheetah mutant for some reason.

The children badgered him with questions like what his name was, where was he from and how did he know their mother.

"Do you know our dad too?" Aldwin asked, and when Conrad shook his head the young fox bit his lip. "That's bad." He muttered, but before Conrad could ask why Geno returned and shushed them all away, leaving just them and the baby. She picked up the rocker and led Conrad to the living room. Conrad could not help but notice that all the family pictures with Gone in them also featured a shorter black fox that looked somewhat familiar. In most of the pictures the fox was wearing a red ball cap with a famous skateboard logo on it.

"Hey! Is that Anthony Foxx, the famous skateboarder?"

"Sort off. I mean, yes."

Now Conrad could understand why they had to adopt. A fox and a cheetah could not breed, at least not until recently he thought as he watched her rock the baby.

Geno saw his look at the baby. "I met ... Anthony ... under extreme circumstances and we fell in love. We adopted four orphans and were going to stop there, but last year we had an opportunity to try a new treatment that could allow divergent species to breed." She nodded toward the baby. "And it worked. It worked well enough that we've decided to have a few more while I'm still young enough."

Conrad did some quick math. Five children, a famous athlete for a husband, more kids to follow ... the result was that he was shit out of luck when it came to any hope of taking up with her where they had left off.

"I'm happy for you." He told her, trying not to let his crushed spirits show.

She gave him a sad, knowing smile. His was not the first broken heart left bleeding at her feet.

"So, what brings you to Canada?"

"To be honest, I was hoping to reconnect with you and maybe start a new life here." He explained about Constance kicking him out and whet he had been up to since Geno left Poland.

"The army, you say. Which trade? Medics? Supply?"

"Actually, I joined the infantry." Conrad replied, slightly hurt that she would assume he was in a support trade. "I did okay, getting into a reconnaissance unit during my initial hitch. Then they discovered how many languages I could speak and they sent me to try out for GROM."

Geno's eyes widened. "I'm impressed."

GROM was one of the Polish Special Forces units. Every member had to speak several languages, and everyone had to train as a paramedic, as a radio operator and learn to drive everything from a motorcycle to a tank. They had to become marksmen on a wide array of weapons, of Western as well as Russian and Chinese manufacture. When one passed the initial training - if one passed, many didn't - they would be assigned to advanced training that took place between missions. There were three different training levels: green, blue and black. Green dealt with field reconnaissance, deep cover sabotage, population extraction/evacuation, and the elimination of personal threats. Blue dealt with maritime and naval interjections, undergoing intense special naval operation training, which included underwater diving, naval sabotage, and naval reconnaissance. Black training was the highest level of training, dealing with hostage rescue, VIP protection, area protection ... and assassination.

"How far did you get?" Geno asked.

"I completed Green and Blue." Conrad replied.

Before Geno could comment the front door opened and a male voice called out, "Honey, I'm home."

Geno jumped up to intercept her mate but the children, who had been spying on them from the kitchen beat her to him. Amid the squeals of greeting Conrad could hear the eldest, Aldwin, say to his Father, "Mom's in the living room with some foreign guy that wants to connect with her, whatever that means."

The fox that Conrad knew as skateboarder Anthony Foxx came into the living room in a rage, his eyes snapping from his mate to Conrad. He seemed disappointed to find them both clothed and sitting on opposite sides of the room, but he placed himself between the two and began firing questions at them faster than they could answer. He was also fingering something inside his sleeve and Conrad wondered if the little fox was going to pull a knife on him.

Geno managed to calm everyone down, explaining to her mate, whom she called "Anthony" as if she had to remind him what his name was, that Conrad was just an old acquaintance, the twin brother of her best friend growing up, here in Canada looking for work. Her mate accepted the story, reluctantly it seemed to Conrad, and took the children into the kitchen to prepare supper, while Geno questioned Conrad about his military duty and plans for the future.

"I would like to use my skills for something useful." Conrad mused. "But not as some mindless mercenary or bodyguard. I want what I do to make a difference."

"hmmmm ... I may have something that would interest you ... but I'll have to talk it over with my husband first."

Conrad could not fathom what kind of work he could do for a famous skateboarder that would require his martial skills or make any possible difference to the world. But before he could question Geno further they were interrupted by Anthony on one of the many occasions he came back to check on them.

"I guess you have to be heading off soon." He said. "Got dinner plans, I suspect."

"No, not really."

"Good." Geno injected. "You can stay for supper."

Conrad saw the evil look her mate shot her before ducking back into the kitchen and reminded himself to sit as far away from the little fox as possible. Out of knife range at least.

After dinner was done Geno left her four eldest to entertain Conrad while she retreated to the master bedroom with her mate in tow. Conrad could hear their voices raised, but only dimly as their bedroom seemed to be sound proofed.

"It's always like this when Dad and mum get into a fight." Belinda said with a shake of her head.

"And you know what follows that." Aldwin added. "We better get the little ones to bed."

Darwin went peacefully enough, but Charlie, who seemed to have his adopted father's temper, put up a fight. Eventually the older two managed to wrestle him out of the living room, leaving Conrad alone.

The argument in the master bedroom appeared to be over, but the sounds that came next made Conrad jump up in alarm. There was a dull thumping, like someone was being driven into a wall, and muffled cries that could be coming from a wounded animal. He rushed to the door, ready to kick it down and stop the beating the angry skateboarder must be subjecting poor Geno to but stopped in his tracks. Closer to the door the cries coming from within became clearer ... and familiar.

Memories stirred in Conrad's head and something else stirred below his beltline as he recalled the epic bedroom sessions Geno had put him through as a lad. He had been submissive then, less confident of his prowess, and it had taken all her effort to get him worked up enough to make her produce cries and moans, and swear words, like these. He turned and quietly made his way back to the living room where he sat with his paws on his lap and tried to think of doing his taxes, old ladies and oatmeal until the sound abated.

After a while, longer than Conrad thought he could have lasted, there was one last combined scream of pleasure then silence. A few moments later Geno and her mate emerged with rumpled and wet fur from a hasty clean up in the sink probably, but with satisfied smiles on their faces. They sat together on the couch opposite Conrad, holding paws like ten lovers.

"Conrad," Geno began, "let me re-introduce you to my mate. His name is Marcel, Anthony Foxx is just his cover identity. We both work for an agency, a secret agency, that can use people with your talents. Before we, uh, finished our discussion ... we had our people run a background check on you."

Marcel took up the explanation. "Your record with, what was it? GROG? PROM? ... from the Polish Army, was pretty impressive, and they say your conduct, character and loyalty to a cause are above reproach."

"You would have to go through a battery of aptitude and attitude tests with our psychologist, of course," Geno continued, "but if you are interested ... We are facing a shortage of qualified recruits at the moment."

Conrad looked from Marcel to Geno and back a few times. Geno a spy? A secret Agent? It was a ludicrous story, but one that made more sense than her working in some administrative office.

"Where do I sign up?"

Conrad, Constance, Ksi and Geno are © Coyotek

The rest of the gang of idiots are mine.