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City ZeroBy Azelis DeLanoEpisode I: The Hunted

Red. It was red. And wet. And slimy. Hard to move.

Awake

Sleep feels too nice, eyes closing, pain.

Awake

Turn over. Can't turn. Floating. Beating. Soothing rhythm

Awake

Content. Comforted. Sighing. No breath. Can't breathe!

Awake

_ AWAKE! _

Zennoa came to with a jerk. The chains binding him rattled noisily. His white fur was soaked with sweat and he was panting heavily. The dream haunted him all the time. He'd learned to live with very little sleep. Meditation helped even though it left him with a tired soreness nagging at the back of his head little by little every day. And every so often he actually fell asleep, like tonight. Even being bound vertically to a hard metal wall with weeping and screaming echoing around him didn't prevent the inevitable.

"Inevitable," he muttered under his breath. It was a good descriptor for what was about to happen. His eyes, a pure wolven gold that looked startling and unearthly, scanned his surroundings. They were all like him, bound naked to a wall, various burns and lacerations adding some demented spice to the otherwise mute pallet of matted fur.

Zennoa was no different, if perhaps his natural poise as a wolf made him appear more intimidating than the interrogators. Truly his was an image out of a nightmare not unlike his own. His white fur was all manner of colors; pale yellow, red, black, brown depending if he'd succumbed to the unavoidable need to relieve himself, been cut, been burned, or simply from the collecting sweat that never fully escaped the usually soft white.

He was well toned though his thick fur, even matted, shrouded his muscles. Though despite that the subtle contours did nothing to belie physical prowess. Many of the others who'd had a peek at him knew it was all hopeless if someone that well made was stuck here with them. Ironically the same was a source of pride to others. To include such an individual in their club of misfortune.

A fox, a vixen with rust red overfur and a cream underfur where the natural colors still shown next to him wept softly, her left arm convulsing against the bonds. If Zennoa had been tortured she had been destroyed. The wrist was broken, the shoulder dislocated, and the elbow shattered. Mentally Zennoa did a cross between a scoff and a laugh. Primitives, he thought to himself.

"What are ya in for?" he asked in a raspy voice choked by dehydration.

The sobbing became jagged in a kind of primal response. Zennoa twisted his neck as much as his pain tolerance would allow and tried to catch a watery eye. He succeeded and the vixen gasped.

"What did ya do?"

"N-Nothing. I got a present and they want it but I won't give it."

Zennoa let his neck return his head to a forward gaze. "Must be pretty special to be stuck in here."

"What- why are you... why?"

"Me? I got something they want and they can't take it from me. Two of the bastards found that out the hard way, may they return in peace."

This got the vixen's attention. "You can... you know how..."

"To use them? Of course. No point having one you can't use."

There was a brief silence. "Will they kill us?"

Zennoa answered rather casually, almost conversationally. "Probably. That's why we're here. We won't give in. By the time you're here they don't care about loss of life anymore. They just wanna keep the streets clean of it."

"Aren't you scared?"

Zennoa gave a strained laugh that hurt more than he thought it would. "Nah, I'm gonna get out of here."

"Would... you maybe..."

"Take you with? Yeah, if you help."

The vixen was confused. "Help? How can I help? I can't use it."

"You can't, but I can. If you let me use it I can get us out of here." The wolf turned his head back, a look of determination worn on his face.

"O... okay."

The vixen, whose name was Annya as Zennoa knew, opened her right paw and angled it as much towards the wolf as she could. She closed her eyes and thought very hard. Thought about the wolf and how he could use it and how she should give it to him. As she thought this a glimmer of light appeared about an inch off her open paw, shining a bright blue. It hovered, letting off mist in the air and growing until it was a little bigger than a pea. Then it started floating, a perfect looking glass bead towards Zennoa's likewise open paw. When it came to him he closed his paw around it and vines of blue light shot out from his paw entangling his entire body in a feeling closest related to a full body shiver but much more so. The vines vanished leaving him again stark naked to the cold world. He breathed deep hurting a few ribs in the process.

"Now don't scream, this is gonna hurt a little."

He opened his paw again and a combination of colors began to emerge spiraling around each other, though much faster than with Annya. The glass beads, one red and one blue, danced amongst each other weaving an intricate tapestry of light and then exploded in a brilliant display shattering their bonds both freezing and burning them at the same time. True to his word, it hurt like burning alive at the North Pole in a hailstorm. And just as quickly it was over leaving Annya staggering on the ground as Zennoa was grabbing her by the shoulders and trying to drag her into a run.

Curiously they met no resistance as they sprinted achingly but with increasing speed as the blood began to pump again through their bodies between the racks and halls of not-so-lucky furs. They met no resistance. That is, until they got outside. 30 CPC agents armed with fully automatic hybrid weapons equipped with flashlight sights aimed levelly at them. Annya froze completely fearful but Zennoa walked forward. One of the agents threw a robe around him while he held up his paw relinquishing the ice Teardrop.

"Well done Agent," the CPC agent announced. Two others came forward to Annya, still froze with fear, paws outstretched and sucking in the light as they came until Annya's world went black. She never knew how she escaped, why they never pursued her, or that a white wolf both saved her life and handed over her most precious possession. Her and the countless numbers who had been found before her.

The history of the world's pretty fucked up. No one knows what happened. No one knows how the Great Deserts were formed or how this little miserable spit of land survived. Plenty of doomsday prophets will try to tell you it was the use of Teardrops. Maybe it was, who knows. They can do some pretty amazing and bizarre things if you know how to use them.

Teardrops are what the world revolves around. The center of research is in City 0 in the very center of the last refuge of Earth. Circling it is the ringed City 1 which serves as the information epicenter. And all the other cities branch out from there in groups of 2, 3, 5, 8, and 13 in respective rings.

Teardrops are hard to describe. Physically they're little glass bubbles that can be any number of colors. They're pretty boring alone but they give anyone who holds them the ability to do magic, if they know how to use them. They used to occur naturally but have become scarce. It's become a crime to posses a natural Teardrop, government enforcers and officials aside. Synthetic Teardrops are legal if you have the right papers and permits and I don't need to tell you those are hard to come by unless you're either rich, on someone's good side, or more likely both. Normally you can only use one at a time, unless you have a Multi Teardrop. Or unless you're me.

Naturally people don't wanna give up powerful artifacts like Teardrops. And because using one means it's a part of you there used to be only two ways to get them out. One is to ask and the other is to kill. But then there came me.

I didn't ask for this skill and I certainly don't like using it. I have the ability to draw out Teardrops from a fur without killing them. It's difficult and precise work but a life saved is worth it I suppose. I may be taking precious family heirlooms, engagement presents, or even health aids. But they assure me if I don't get it my way they'll get it theirs. I'm not damned if I do and damned if I don't, I'm just damned.

But it's a living I suppose. Not much else work for someone with my skills, not without getting involved with far worse people in far worse ways. Some of the people I have my dealings with in fact. A lot of Teardrops may be used for peaceful purposes but they're tools and there's more than one way to use a tool. And for those I can't subdue in time or convince otherwise I have my tools just like they do. Only thing is I have a lot more and I can use all of them at once. That skill is mine alone and for that reason I'm valuable.

High atop an enclosure of glass and metal in a silver board room sat many suits but one chair held an irate wolf wearing a dulled and worn black leather duster. His fur was dulled from his recent diet but otherwise clean, save for a few neatly shaven areas sporting nasty looking scars all neatly stitched up.

"Gentlemen," began an important looking bear in the most expensive of the suits, "the mission was a success."

Zennoa scoffed under his breath but purposely loud enough to be heard. A few heads, the new ones who weren't used to his attitude, turned towards him but the weathered executives and officials ignored him.

"And I take it our field specialist has something to add."

"If you call me being locked in a dungeon for 5 weeks a success."

The director exhaled in an exaggerated manner. "We've been over this. If you would quit taking so many precautions and get the target faster-"

"Don't even THINK you can pin this on me Clei. I couldn't find her before local officials because your beloved Intel sent me to the wrong damn apartments! And someone," he accused, glancing at another suit, "assured me I was looking for a 40 year old male cougar."

The hare tried to look larger than he felt. "We all know the Droptrace is not an exact science yet, I was certain-"

"Gentlemen! Now is not the time for blame and defense, now is the time for information. Now, our specialist will debrief us as we brought him here to do."

Rolling his eyes, Zennoa stood and took a place at the front of the table. The windows all dimmed and the front-most dissolved into a screen full of technical information.

"Once again Intel had the important parts wrong. The Teardrop is a powerful mix of thermal energy absorption and water production. It can be used to call forth ice or to freeze an area. It also acts as a temporary storage. Energy absorbed can be stored and later converted into water. Our research also leads us to believe that through the right training this tactic can be used to keep ones self from dieing of thirst. Food, of course, is an entirely different matter."

Turning towards the screen, Zennoa's left eye flashed a bright and very unnatural gold. Everyone still seated in the room flinched.

"The target, who was never properly identified, was clearly aware neither of the power or how to make use of it. She claims it was a gift but no more information could be gotten. I'm afraid the source will remain anonymous in this case."

Zennoa took his seat again without preamble leaving a momentary silence and hoping the rest of the information he had on the vixen would stay quiet. That and he was boring himself to death, he hated science and details in general, never mind his proficiency in such areas. He winced and moved slowly sitting down, his wounds still quite tender.

"Well then on to present business."

The talk continued for longer than Zennoa cared to remember. The important parts; the ones that concerned him, always came last.

"Avril, your report please."

The hare who Zennoa had accused stood, now more reassured, immersed in his world of numbers and politics, to say nothing of the precision of the last scan.

"Testing our latest innovation, we set up a computer to do a citywide scan every time it reads a Droptrace ping from a Teardrop usage. Through our experimentation we determined that Droptraces are like fingerprints, though they become distorted over distances. So we set up a system to do a residue scan using the Droptrace ping information and record and cross reference the signatures."

Zennoa was practically falling asleep.

"Having run the simulation over a 2 week period we tracked down a signal that seemed to repeat sometimes 2 or 3 times a day and often at night. By the fourth day we had the location as narrow as readings could provide. I can say without hesitation that we are dealing with a side effect Teardrop that's being used very frequently somewhere in," he gestured to a map of a 2 block area of several stores and a few taverns, "this area marked in red."

All eyes turned to Zennoa who had nodded off and had a most disturbed look on his face.

"Zennoa!"

With a yelp he snapped awake, eyes wide and his fur slightly soaked with sweat. A quick glance around reminded him where he was, he saw the map, the target area.

"That's my search area?"

"Yes, as boring as you may find this. Go, and I expect this one to be wrapped up quickly. If Intel is right your target is making frequent and free use of a Teardrop, and I want it in our paws by the week's end."

Later that day Zennoa was out wandering the streets. He had his own non technological and non boring ways of doing his work. Mostly though he preferred the atmosphere on the streets. As the sun set enough for the streets to be illuminated by the false calm of blue fire street lanterns, Zennoa walked the back alleyways alone, listening. The nights were calm on the surface, the façade that Zennoa liked to pretend to be a part of. It was calm, it was peaceful, it was too good to last.

Out of the back of a tavern a couple of drunks stumbled, one of them clearly the target of the end of some kind of wild party.

"Oh man I can't believe you made it with her! She is (hic) so totally out of your league."

"Yeah, what a hottie! And you don't 'member nothing? Ya pussy, c'mon give us the goods already!"

The five of them staggered away. Curiously, the one they were playing up didn't smell like he'd recently had sex, and Zennoa's nose would have picked up the unsavory scents easily. He gave a wayward glance at the now closed door, the metal looking completely unassuming. He was at the edge of the street so he turned the corner and made his way to the front.

The Lucky Lemur was your typical hole-in-the-wall joint for those looking to forget about life for a few hours. It had a few rooms but then a hole in a hole in a wall isn't the warmest of settings and most of the time vacancies were all too common. There were a few tables and a few wooden stools at the bar, most mismatched from what ever was still salvageable (or easy to run with) from other businesses. The one feature that stood out was the stage. It did so for two reasons; it was fairly large and it was obviously expensive. Zennoa saw the multitude of theatrical lights, the high quality sound system and what he expected were fog machine outlets. He had seen such jets in other applications but they included a lot of chains and an airtight Titan plastic cage.

"Haven't seen ya around here before. What'll ya have?"

Zennoa regarded the tiger bartender for only a moment, quickly deciding that anyone that large and muscular didn't need an effect Teardrop to get his way. He decided even he deserved to drown old memories once in a while. "Twisted Vixen, extra lemon."

Moments later he had his honey colored drink and was testing the rather strong nectar when a hush came over the scattered occupants. He saw the lights dimming, those that cooled down anyway. The other half simply clicked off and the stage began to glow with a ghostly mix of crimson, violet and midnight tones.

The bartender tossed Zennoa a towel. "You're gonna want this."

Before he could question, an ambient mix of echoing xylophone and smooth piano music began to play as the stage filled with fog.

"Darkness rising,

Calling out my name.

Will it be changed,

Or remain the same?"

Through the fog melted the silhouette of a cat, vocalizing with a very sultry voice. As her outline became clearer so did the archaic pattern of a hooded cloak she wore that covered her body. An excited murmuring from the crowd only enticed Zennoa more, wondering just what he was in store for. He always did like theater, although by the sound of the singing this was going to be more interesting than any musicals he'd been to lately.

"I have fallen

Far from above,

Landing here

With such a bump."

At a razor sharp break in the music she threw off the cloak which bellowed through the fog showing an elaborate costume which seemed to be made of mainly free flowing strips of transparent pink silk. Her fur was mostly black or dark brown, the lighting made it difficult to tell. Her face, ears, and paws had white accents and her hair was silky black, tied in a long tail that almost reached the ground.

Squinting at glimpses of what appeared to be a light stain starting about at her waist, he commented to no one in particular, "what's that down the front of the dress?"

"That," said the bartender leaning forward on the bar, "would be her underfur."

Zennoa promptly inhaled and coughed out half his drink. When he came to his senses the cat was moving back and forth across the stage with a combination of grace and attitude that clearly told who was the boss in the bedroom.

"I didn't just imagine that," Zennoa muttered.

"Sure did," the bartender chided.

"I've tasted of the fruit

It's opened up my eyes

It's given me a thirst

That's so hard to satisfy

Drink from juicy lips

Delicious in a kiss

Allow yourself..."

As she sang her paws took turns gesturing above her head and playing with the silk below her waist. On the repeat the paws started parting the strips just a bit giving momentary glimpses of what some knew and others hoped; that there was nothing but fur underneath. Zennoa quickly lost track of two things. The first was how many times his drink had been refilled and the second was why he was even here.

The front lights cut and the fog renewed as a single spot from behind cast a dominating shadow. The cat froze with one paw up in the air and the other on her hip.

"Illuminate me

The time is now.

I know I've been seen

I just can't see how."

Strobes all over the stage began to flash sporadically casting an ethereal lightshow. As she continued to vocalize a warm glow came up and the fog settled.

"When I'm hiding

Amid the throng

But nowhere is safe

From the ancient song."

She broke into refrain again, her paws and moves becoming increasingly suggestive until it was painfully clear that she knew just know how much and at the same time how little she was showing and just how wild it drove every fur in the bar.

"You can bury my heart,

It won't stop that beat.

Under it all

I have dancing feet."

She fell beneath the fog as the lights turned to a solemn deep blue and came up doing a slow motion cartwheel into a handstand/leg split that, as much as everyone was dieing to see, did not uncover her loins.

"Like the gatekeeper knows

I'm the weirding one.

Dazzling spark

From a fallen sun."

Rounding off back onto her footpaws she crossed her arms across herself and suddenly pivoted in a fast spin that may have allowed full view of her fur but at the same time a dazzling spotlight kept anyone from a photo opportunity.

"I've tasted of the fruit

It's opened up my eyes

It's given me a thirst

That's so hard to satisfy

Drink from juicy lips

Delicious in a kiss

Allow yourself..."

Now she was making no secret of just what juicy lips she was referring to as her paw vanished, backlit by the lights and she finished the phrase by licking her fingers. Zennoa wasn't normally one to gawk but her spell had the same effect on him as everyone and he could hardly blink.

And then on the refrain Zennoa caught a glimpse of a tiny sparkle from her right paw that snapped him back to reality. A smile crept across his muzzle and it must have caught the cat's eye because she gave him a wink and a mirror grin when she licked her finger clean a second time. The Teardrop flashed again but now that Zennoa recognized it the effect was only partly successful.

The dance ended, the dress was rather wet in areas, and thunderous applause and cheers accompanied the cat through two bows, a backwards cartwheel, and her retreat backstage. Zennoa turned too quickly to face the bartender and realized just how much he'd had to drink. While he was trying to piece the world back together he heard someone speak with the bartender about a "private showing" with her. Money and keys exchanged paws and when Zennoa had the physical world sorted he knew he missed his chance for the night. So he got himself a room and when he got his key the imprint of the cat's room key which had obviously been tightly grasped showed in the tiger's paw pad. Seeing that tonight's contestant, a rather young and probably underage rat, was busy socializing and showing off his prize, Zennoa slipped away to see if he could have a word first.

After knocking on the door a rustling of fabric accompanied a "Coming!" from inside. The door cracked open and the cat, wearing a plush bathrobe and bearing the scent of finishing what she started onstage grinned expectantly up at Zennoa. Now that he was face to face he saw her fur to be a complex pattern of black, brown, grey, cream, and white. Her eyes were a dazzling emerald and her hair was even silkier looking than it had been on-stage.

"Hi, um, I'm not interrupting am I?" Zennoa asked, only partially masking his sensitivity to her activities. She slid her one paw inside the robe slightly, appearing to close it but actually wanting to hide the visual.

"Oh, no, not at all. I didn't expect anyone so soon."

Zennoa took on a rather sheepish look, conflicting desires to take the rat's place and to complete his mission without suspicion battling momentarily. "Ah, well, I think I missed my chance tonight."

The cat adopted a skeptical look. "You're not chickening out are you?"

Stumbling paws on the stairs drew both sets of eyes and the rat came up holding his trophy key above him to a trail of followers.

"Ah, so you did miss. Well I'll tell you what," she said beckoning his ear close. Zennoa leaned in, shivering when he felt her breath on his ear. "Tell Ramyr that Krys said to give you special treatment tomorrow and I'll make sure you don't miss anything," she whispered giving his ear a short lick before closing the door carefully. Zennoa stumbled to his own room in a stupor and spent a night of very welcome dreamless rest in a bed that could have doubled as a coffee table.

The morning brought an odd restfulness for Zennoa that he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt. His hangover seemed to take the morning off, and for that matter he couldn't remember ever having one of those. Granted he wasn't much of a drinker but he could still smell the alcohol on his own breath this morning.

He made his way back into the bar to find a fur here and there enjoying a wakeup call and found himself sitting in the same stool as the night before. The tiger came over.

"You must be the one Krys was talking about. Just missed her in fact."

"So that makes you Ramyr. Missed her?"

The tiger turned around to lean his back against the bar as he stared up at a dusty advertisement for HoundDog brand beer. "Yeah, she always goes out in the morning. Likes real food now and then I guess. Can't say I blame her, and she always brings me something."

"She lives here then?"

"More or less, comes and goes as she pleases some nights but always gives a standard Friday and Saturday performance," informed Ramyr, pouring and sliding a fruit drink to Zennoa.

"Today's Sunday right?" Zennoa asked, accepting the drink.

"Usually her day off but she wanted to make sure she got a chance to see you. Quite frankly I can't see what all the fuss is about."

"Hmh, thanks." Zennoa took a careful sip of the drink and when he was satisfied it wasn't alcoholic he drank more confidently.

Before long the drink woke up Zennoa's stomach and he decided he needed a bite himself. "Hey, where's the nearest place to get a meal?"

Ramyr looked up from his paper. "Griz's down the street. Leaving already?"

Zennoa stood up, passing a currency card under a scanner at the end of the bar. "We all gotta eat sometime. I'll be back though. After all, who's gonna pass up special treatment from Krys?"

"I can't say for certain I've ID'd the right one but I definitely found an effect Teardrop being used. No record of anyone matching the description in the registrar. Orders?"

The comlink sat silently for a moment. "Detain the subject, signal when you're ready and backup will apprehend."

"With all due respect is detention really necessary?"

"Oh I think this particular case warrants it, yes. If this is who we think she is she has quite a record."

Zennoa wasn't political in the least but a hunter, an urban hunter at that, knows the sound of deceit. Avril was hiding something and Zennoa suspected it was personal but then he frequently imagined those he worked for being caught in a dark alley with those they sent Zennoa to catch.

"Understood. Radio silence until then."

Hunger had left him, something felt strange about this. He left his sandwich on the plate, swiped the currency card, and went for a walk.

City 25 was a far different tale by daylight, though Zennoa took most of it in as an observer. Furs unaccustomed to the "watch for thieves" signs always instinctively went for their valuables to make sure they still had them and the successful thieves knew this. They watched and waited for the right moment. Peddlers of items that would be illegal if they were actually credible littered the streets having far less success selling amazingly priced junk. A few gangs walked here and there pushing others out of their way, as long as they looked weaker. Once in a while they'd guess wrong and give a demonstration of uncoordinated sprinting.

It was busy, chaotic, loud, and easy to lose yourself in. So easy that Zennoa didn't realize someone was following him until they actually tried to get his attention.

"Weren't going to wait for me?"

The voice broke the spell and Zennoa turned to face Krys. She looked far more average by daylight standards. The pattern on her fur was so complicated that it just looked dirty unless under properly calibrated lighting. She was no spectacle of height either, either extreme, and the draped clothing she wore hid her figure fairly well. By contrast Zennoa stood out in a crowd by the simple act of remaining anonymous to the point of exclusion and was easy to find if you'd met him before.

"I got hungry," he answered honestly enough.

Krys took a paw that offered slightly more resistance to being led than she'd expected. "Alright hungry, let's have lunch together."

Involvement wasn't against company policy, rather it was encouraged as an added benefit in some cases, but Zennoa certainly found the obscurity the contrary offered to make life easier. However games such as these took strange turns and if he was going to keep playing it was time to follow along. "Alright. Where to?"

She didn't answer, merely led him to the municipal park. It was an artificial water feature that used to be filled with water. A few scattered trees which looked good on paper but bad when unattended completely failed to provide shade to the nearby benches. A few vendors lined the streets, trails of steam from the better ones and smoke from the worse ones dotted the sidewalks. It was to one of these they ended up. Krys knew the neighborhood by day like Zennoa knew the alleys by night. The soup cart smelled of a fine restaurant even if the bowls looked ratty. The soup was delicious though Zennoa couldn't bring himself to eat much of it.

"Something on your mind?" the cat asked, squinting at the early afternoon sun.

"Bad business deal," Zennoa answered, staring at his reflection in his lunch.

"Are you finished with your soup? Desert's next you know."

Zennoa looked up at her with a hunter's eye, yet completely failed to read her intentions. She was good, he had to give her that, or possibly just naive enough to pull it off. Unlikely, he thought to himself. "Yeah I think so. Where's desert?"

In answer she merely licked his nose and started leading him back towards the tavern.

Kaimen Chevron worked under Avril as his chief research analyst. He had a taste for expensive suits, the ones with black pants, black shoes, a black belt, black jacket, white shirt, and a red tie. Or at least that's all any of the execs saw him wearing. In his private lab where he did research and experimental Teardrop development he tended to lose the jacket and tie. He squinted at mountains of data flashing across a screen through nearly completely clear glasses. They were the rimless ones and had a slight blue tint which matched the fox's fur fairly well.

He did this for an hour or so every day, looking for patterns in the numbers and symbols. He was looking at raw output from the Droptrace scanner. Every once in a while a pattern would jump out at him and he'd grab a sketch pad and draw. After drawing for about an hour he'd look at his sketches and start to write equations. For whatever reason this worked amazingly well and his own Droptrace program operated with a 92% accuracy instead of the 62% that Avril was running.

Today he was scanning through last night's logs and something kept jumping at him but just as he'd reach for it there was nothing. As he watched Avril's voice filled the room's PA system.

"Kaimen, I want you to analyze last night's data and see if you can pinpoint any activity in the G6 quad."

The fox answered without looking up. "Anything else?"

"Well if you have the device ready the subject I'm going to be bringing in is a good candidate."

This caught his ear. Avril didn't take subjects often, he was fairly squeamish. Something about this one then. A few keystrokes and a log of all today's calls was coming through. "Let me know when you have the subject and I'll tell you how likely the test is to succeed."

"Success isn't as important as, shall we say, testing each phase."

Kaimen looked over his glasses at the speaker. "I see."

"Carry on."

The log pulled up already the fox started laughing. He ran a few cross-references against the company charge account and laughed harder. "She slapped his ass! What an idiot. I hope he..." but then stopped.

Something had just registered in his mind and he began checking numbers, equations, historical data, current data, personnel profiles. All indications added up. The exact subject he needed was right under his nose but just out of his grasp. He had to think quick, put 2 and 2 together and convince everyone else he had 5. He started composing a memo to Avril, set to send in an hour and 2 minutes.

Subject: Important Information Regarding Field Specialist Zennoa

On their way back to the tavern Zennoa and Krys were stopped by an ancient looking white tiger. He was dressed in an old poncho that looked to be made of hide with simple patterned symbols dyed into the borders. His hair was the long ancient white of great kung fu masters in popular cinema. He was shorter than them, perhaps just over 5 feet tall. When he spoke to them they had the impression of someone who had not spoken in years.

"Do you know Mother Golden Flame?"

Krys looked to Zennoa who answered her with a puzzled expression. "Should I have?"

The tiger studied Zennoa's face for several seconds. "Strange you have not met someone so close to you."

Krys spoke up next. "Am I Golden Flame?"

The tiger laughed, or coughed, or maybe some of each. "No, you do not understand. How do you say it? She is a water-vision."

"I wouldn't be talking about illicit drugs out in the daylight if I were you," Zennoa warned.

"So innocent to the world yet so sure of it. You do not know Mother Golden Flame I see. Here, I have a gift for you," said the elder feline, holding out a paw.

Zennoa grabbed it thinking the tiger meant to shake paws. Instead he felt the light tingle he knew well; a Teardrop had passed from sentient to sentient willingly. The tiger bowed and turned to walk away.

"Teardrop. She's a Teardrop isn't she."

The tiger stopped and answered without turning around. "Amazing what we realize we know when we listen instead of search." He kept walking.

"What was that all about?" asked Krys.

Zennoa stood watching as the tiger melted into the crowds of furs. "I'm not sure."

They continued on their way back.

Back within the confides of the dank home she knew well Krys gave a sigh. She waved to Ramyr and headed for her room dragging the white wolf with her. He was sexy, no two ways about it. Well toned, carried himself with confidence, good with a drink, and was obviously interested in her. She also knew from their meeting last night and from the dance that he wasn't some sex craved maniac; the brief connection she'd shared during her performance had revealed that much. Pity the rat had gotten her for the night. All he wanted to do was watch her and play with himself. Easy enough of a memory to create but a boring one for her to write in the process. It was only one step more than she did on stage.

This one was different though. Many wolves were. They had an instinct for romance, love, caring. The ones who ventured out to find the ones like herself were on the whole very caring and all about mutual enjoyment. There were exceptions of course, and an exception in a wolf was an awesome experience.

Wolves presented a unique challenge for her. Many of them didn't just want to screw, they wanted to get to know her, perhaps make a habit of visiting. A few even thought they might be falling in love. She always had to invent some sort of revelation in their memories that she wasn't one to return the feeling, or that they found her just not that interesting outside of the bed.

She was no virgin certainly and her routine would be pretty difficult to master otherwise. She was alive just like anyone else and had her needs and wants. She could gauge by creating a memory if it was accepted or not and by trial-and-error could tell if someone could really be trusted with her body. Everyone left with something of course or else she wouldn't be as profitable to the bar as she was. But a few of them had more real memories than orchestrated ones. They'd never know the difference but Krys certainly did. She knew what made a good lover and she saw a lot of that in Zennoa.

It was always the same in those she fancied. The first time was a test, a manufactured experience to see what they wanted from her, how violent they could be, how trustworthy, if they had any hidden intentions. More than a few she was interested in failed this test; she counted herself lucky to have the shadow Teardrop. Those that passed though always had a better second night. After all if they were going to think they were with her twice the second time had to be the best since it was always her only time.

She was looking forward to this.

"Hey, aren't you going to take care of your tab first?"

The wolf stopped forcing Krys to do the same.

"Tab?"

"You had a lot to drink," Ramyr said nodding in her direction. Zennoa looked from one to the other and damn near blushed right through his fur.

I don't want him to pay for this, he won't enjoy it and then I won't either, Krys thought. "It's on me," she assured her friend.

"Okay, if you say so. Have fun."

Zennoa had a deliciously cute expression on his face, somewhere between confused and embarrassed. Krys nudged him and kept leading him up the stairs.

Such a domineering presence and yet so shy around a girl, Krys thought to herself.

Once inside the room, door sealed and locked Zennoa knew there was no turning back. The cat glided over to him grabbing his left arm with both of hers.

"How would you like to start?" she asked in a voice so incredibly innocent.

He needed to buy some time, figure out exactly how he was going to do this. "I'd love it if you'd dance for me some more."

"Dance and sing maybe?" she asked leaning her head on his shoulder behind and slightly to his side.

Zennoa turned his head to respond and met her nose with his muzzle. He received a lick and a gentle push towards the bed. When he'd sat down she backed up a few steps keeping her eyes locked with his.

"I'd love to but I can't do much in this. Let me change quick."

She ducked behind a changing blind that seemed to be made of paper. It had to be right in front of a window, casting a perfect silhouette for Zennoa to watch as she slid one group of clothing off, unmentionables and all, to be replaced with another. He knew she'd planned this, or at least had it in a ready bag of tricks. His muzzle watered just a bit.

Soft music with a jazz-like feeling started playing. It was composed of trumpet, guitar, piano, and soft percussion. Krys emerged wearing a flowing dress of blue and green silk, similar to the one she wore before but fuller and richer and certainly more opaque.

"We've found a kind of paradise

In a flower's bloom.

We've seen the end of a mystic land so close

It meets the parting sun.

We've shared the thoughts that two could share,

We feel the truth, magic that we send...

Searching for something new

Isle of gold in flowers bloom."

Her steps were simple but graceful. The dance was far less energetic but made up for it in a sensual way. It was clearly danced for just him. The movements were sweeping and slow with a few twists here and there, arm movements adding a harmony to the motion, tail more or less along for the ride but in perfect unison.

"We've heard a kind of paradise

Beyond the desert's dunes.

We've walked the Earth in solitude so cold

We need the warmth of sun.

We've lived the life that we could live,

We see the truth magic that begins...

Searching for something new

Isle of gold in flowers bloom."

As she moved she moved closer to Zennoa dancing just far enough away and adding more spins so the silk would almost but not quite brush him. It was electrifying to behold, watching her dance so close up. This dress was not made to tease as the other one was, it was simply made to be taken off and Zennoa was about to realize just how much he was right about that.

"We've found a kind of paradise

Below a sky so new.

We've weaved a web of mystery so wide,

We need the light of day.

We've worn the cloak of secret lives,

We've seen the truth, magic that we send...

Searching for something new

Isle of gold in flowers bloom."

On this round she beckoned him to his feet. What could he do but obey? She was already starting to work her magic, slowly and bit by bit as she always did. As she danced around him she removed his clothing bit by bit. First his duster, flung to the far corner of the room. His shirt, lifted slowly away to fall to the ground. His belt and pants left to fall at his footpaws. Now as she danced she did so deliberately against him, pieces of her own dress dissolving away at her own footpaws. Zennoa was speechless, caught up in a wave of experience that rendered him unable to think.

"So when will it end?

So when, when will we meet my friend?"

This she sang over and over, dancing against Zennoa and leading him back to the bed, losing piece after piece of her dress until they were both down to underwear, simple white boxers on him and luxurious silk lace panties on her. The dress needed no bra and functioned much better without. Her paws began playing a more intimate role, dancing on their own up and down his chest and legs in time to the music. Her footpaws slowed down but still led her in slow turns with her hips seeming to lead the whole show. Her tail brushed purposely against his waist a few times before her paws took over, drawing them down bit by bit stopping just as the top of his sheath and winking canine penis were visible. She stopped turning and started licking him with short sweet strokes, starting with his nose and moving ever slowly and deliciously down. And still she sang.

"So when will it end?

So when, when will we meet my friend?"

Zennoa was almost completely lost in her dream world when something snapped him wide awake. He hadn't realized his eyes were closed until the blinding light gave him a headache. There was a loud noise outside but that didn't concern him. Free of her influence the facts rushed in on him and he reacted, grabbing her wrists and throwing her to the bed, his left paw holding them down and his right pulling at the Teardrop she'd been using.

She screamed, at first thinking he meant to rape her but soon realizing just what he was doing. It was worse, he was taking a part of her, ripping it and it hurt like hell. Flamed built up all within her, every artery and vein ablaze. And it flowed like lava to her paw, hotter and hotter until it snapped. She curled up into the fetal position crying. Her whole body ached and she could feel the empty hole it had left. Not a physical wound, something much harder to deal with.

A splatter of warmth hit her face. It reminded her of blood but her eyes were closed and she was oblivious to the world. Then another and another. She hazarded a glance and she was right. Zennoa was bleeding, hunched over her. His face contorted a few times and he spoke wordlessly to her, mouthing the word "run."

"Unit 3, subject 1 disabled, subject 2 confirmed disarmed. Apprehend and process," ordered a familiar voice.

Zennoa had worked with Unit 3 every time he needed backup in a case. This didn't make sense, they knew who he was, the saw he'd recovered the Teardrop and still they'd shot at him! Not kill shots, he knew he'd be dead if they'd meant. They disabled him, just as they were trained. Something was very wrong, he had to get away.

"I'll give it back," he whispered to Krys, "if you help me get out of here."

She was still crying, huddled beneath him. Both were perfectly clothed still but he could almost feel her fur against his yet. He put his paw carefully on her cheek, focusing as he did at times and spoke again.

"I'm sorry I hurt you. I'll give it back if you help me escape."

She weakly nodded and sobbed more. Zennoa mustered all of his strength, turning over and summoning the fire inside him. It wasn't a metaphor but a Teardrop and a destructive one. He shot a jet of fire at Unit 3 and arced it across all of them. A few managed their Dropshields in time but most cried out, running about and bumping into each other trying to roll around to put out the flames.

Zennoa called up another Teardrop, this one a Kinetic one. There was no guard against it and he punched hard at those still standing who flew, two of them out the door and the rest into the wall. He turned back to Krys.

"Let's go," he urged placing his paw on her shoulder. The electric sensation passed from him to her. It steadied her and she used her returned Teardrop, enshrouding the room in darkness and turning herself and him into mist which flowed out the window to the street. There they solidified off the ground, both landing hard and off their paws. Zennoa struggled to his feet, taking her arms in his paws. Blood was still leaking all over but they had to move and fast. And one of his only friends was not far from here. He hurried them both deeper into the alleyway.

"Unit 3, report," ordered Corter Relias.

"Casualties suffered, subjects have vanished. We believe the effect Teardrop was used. Hall guard saw nothing."

The cougar cursed under his breath. "Fan out, search the building!" He turned to those with him outside the building. "Area search, 2 block radius! Zennoa and the cat are to be assumed armed and dangerous. Inhibit on sight. Do not kill them and do not underestimate them. Move out!"

The CPA troops, dressed in blue official jumpsuits fanned with all manner of field equipment saluted sternly before moving off on their assignment. Corter Relias, their captain, looked up at the second story windows deep in thought.

"Who'd have thought Zennoa," the cougar said aloud to himself.