Gorky's Christmas Carol

Story by Kishniev on SoFurry

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#1 of Gustville

A sexually frustrated and overcontrolled virgin gay opossum is desperate to pop his cherry.

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A long forgotten request for a fox who seemed to have disappeared from the Net.

Enjoy.

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Image by Floram.


"Do you know who you are, in your robes of skin, how many creatures live inside you?" -- Bruce Dickinson, "Trumphets of Jericho"

23/dec 17:49 Colia

Classes over.

Great, call him now.

No, wait.

Check the phone?

Charged.

What else?

Wyatt and Joram?

Joram's at the club, Wyatt at that private party in the Vaprom builing. Won't be back until tomorrow.

It'll be a good harvest.

Heh, probably for both of them.

What about your share?

I'm trying. Monrning classes aren't making any cash.

But you'll get a degree.

Small difference. And only if I pass the winter semester.

Your scholarhip ain't gonna last forever. You've burned half of it for food and rent already.

It's because the... That escort thing. It isn't going as I'd planned.

It's a bad idea to do it over the internet, y'know. Joram's doing it the old way, and he's still alive.

I don't want to hit the streets. I hate old people.

That would happen, eventually.

Never!

But in the long run...

I'm not doing it.

Every goods has it's buyer.

My price ain't enough to cover daily expenses.

Heh, now we're talking.

No, you listen to me. Never! I'm not giving up on myself. The money is going to come, this way or another. I'll call home and beg. I'll say I'm doing great at college and that I need more money.

They kicked you out, remember.

I'll beg. I'll take another student loan. I'll ask Gotthard or Ali.

Banks don't approve loans to unemployed people. Gotthard doesn't trust you enough, you're a server dust wiping boy for him. To Ali too. He runs the cafe on his own.

I'll... Damn it, I'll work night-shift in warehouses. Or something.

For 10 tholars a month?

Doesn't matter.

You'll starve.

I-- I'll find something.

What?

Something. Anything.

Be more specific. May I remind you, you haven't ate anything since last night. You posses no savings, just those 2 tholars in your back pocket.

You, you... To hell with you, Flee!

I'm just telling the truth.

There's no truth.

You'll be a very nice mouse corpse.

Oh, shuddup.

Why don't you call him right now?

He doesn't seem very promising. I'll try.

Can I count that as a bid? A long barter, perhaps?

No! He's... Different.

You mean, richier?

Different. I can feel there's something about him, I can't describe it. I can't dive under his skin, but I can picture what's whirling in his blood.

Hey, he's a rich dude. Cling on to him like a big fat leech and suck the cash away!

He... He doesn't deserve to be treated like that.

He? Oh, you think? Are we thinking emotions now? Wake up, rodent. They are the big capitalists, the 'possum Free Cavediggers, the ones in the eye of the pyramid. They run this dustball, they suck our blood and sweat.

Oh, talking conspiracies again.

Listen to me! Because of him, Wyatt and Joram have to sell their tails. Because of him, you don't have enough for your scholarship. Because of people like him, you...

He doesn't look like one, doesn't act like one.

Call him. Call him now, arrange a date. There's your money bag.

Why don't you just leave me be?

Because you're stupid. You believe in people too much.

I want to make out with him.

Okay, fine. I'm gone. But... Remember. Take the cash. Or. Eh, whatever. Your empty stomach will call me. Just wait.

Oh my, he's calling me!

Take the damn chance, Colia!

24/dec 06:27 T-GOX EMS plant, Northen Ogul

A small bumpy road lead to nowhere. A huge snow-covered hangar sat behind a wire fence. Early morning dawned in the northen reaches of Ogul industrial zone.

A tired fur was loading crates into the pick-up truck.

"Hold it... Careful now," Gorky navigated the red fox above him, "...there. That's the last of them."

The vulpine loader jumped down and locked the truck doors. "Right. I'm driving it to Novska 12, sir?"

"Yup." The opposum moved a step back in order to observe the stack of secured boxes. Snow had piled some good half inch by the time they finished the shipment. "Remember to call that guy, I gave you the number..."

"Um... Fyodor, 561..." Fox looked at his phone, "yup, got it sir."

"Okay, drive carefully. Call me when you're done."

"Affirmative, sir."

Gorky watched the fox walk through thick snow, slamming the pick-up doors, and igniting his engine. Jacob--was that his name? He couldn't remember, like it would matter anyway. The opposum tightened his jacket and walked back to the hangar. He heard the pick-up driving away, it's exhaust fumes dissolved in pale snowfall.

The fox's scent and the images it arose in the swamp of his mind warmed the oppossum, as he moved the giant slide doors aside, slipping into the factory.

Spring latch slammed back the doors with a loud bang, echoing the hangar space. Gorky leaned on the ice cold metal, suddenly aware of the painful tent in his pants. Noise ringed in his ears, bounced around the empty hangar, reflecting from the snow-covered windows, reverberating over the loose door hinges. When the bang died away Gorky jerked his head back and gasped at the ceiling.

The attempt to scream ended in short grunts and whipmers. After 62 hours of continuos work grind, he was good for nothing, not even rebellion. He couldn't sleep. There wasn't enough money for another engineer, and it didn't matter he was the Family, he had to take anti-sleep pills just like Mikhail.

He passed through the long lines of machines that could allow themselves some downtime. Lathes, printers, automatic placers, streaks of reflow ovens, conveyor belts, stacked reels of components. The morning shift would start in one hour, he thought, with or without me. He adjusted his tie and nametag, then climbed up the metal stairs to a small two-floors office, built of stacked intermodal containers at the far side of the hangar.

Flip of the switch. Lights on.

Three workstations. Coffee stained tables, paper printouts everywhere. Touchscreen computers stained with sticky notes.

There we go.

Gorky sat at the furthest computer and called up the today's worksheet. Twelve different assembly models, all pending for today evening. Supplies will arrive at ten hundred hours, distributor trucks would come back to fetch the assembled printed circuit boards at sixteen hundred.

He arranged the product lines and printed out the list, then put it on his table. The numbers danced before his eyes, and his head was weary.

He woke up cold and horrified. Mikhail wasn't there yet, so it should be before eight o'clock. Good! It was just few minutes since he passed away on the table.

Gorky got up and went to the medical cabinet, picked the right bottle. Turned it in his hand a few times, then counted, two, three, four, five. Was it six? Did he dreamed it was six? He shrugged, swallowing all of it. It was enough. The somnic inhibitors kept him productive, made his existence a positive, returnable investment.

24/dec 17:59 T-GOX EMS plant, Northen Ogul

"'Cmon, move guys, move, move!"

A hedgehow trucker walked around, nervously twitching his tail. "Hell... You better hurry, dude. I'm late."

Contract workers smirked, pushing pallets loaded with crates. Hundreds of thousands of Rhoddian thollars worth of electronics moved up the ramp and into long trailer trucks, gently shaking in the snow blizzard. Gorky wiped his snout, his deep blue eyes reduced to slits. Evening shift was almost done.

"Second batch, come on!"

Nothing too interesting happened during the day shift. A pair of mice from abroad who just arrived yeasterday put a wrong resistor reel on the pick-and-load machine, but he stopped the disaster before it happened. Oven operators constantly programmed wrong temperatures, but he got used to these small sabotages. Later on he found three 0402 caps in the vaccuum cleaner's filter, nothing too bad. All the boards passed through electrical and logic test anyway, so it wasn't anything too important to be concerned about. Well, at least he liked to think that way, it was business as usual. New design requests snowed his inbox very much like this blizzard outside he stood in.

"Okay, close the awnings, that's it for today!"

The truckers tossed their cigarettes and jumped into warmed cockpits. Gorky stayed on the parking lot and handed a clipboard to each of them. After all the papers've been signed the oppossum found himself buried in diesel fumes, alone in the snow and wet tyre tracks. His nose hurted, and once the trucks were far on the horizon he shuddered, casting away the icy buildup on his coat and nametag.

He looked back at the hangar. The workers were undressing in the restroom, tall and short sillouethes playing under orange light behind stained windows. Many times Gorky asked himself how they were able to support themselves and their families for such a low wage. It puzzled him why they don't rebel against his company, or protest at the town hall, like the blue collars did everywhere around the world. Nah, it was stupid, Gorky thought, pushing those thoughts away. Padre controlls the city council. Once the spring arrives, they're all going to be replaced with robotic lines. They weren't his family, and Padre wouldn't mind if they'd starve or freeze to death in their rotting slums. They were expendable, just like him.

Some people were more expendable than others.

Would you mind?--Gorky asked himself, thinking of the new worker, the red fox he saw this morning. Would you set him up a fake Amber or Rhoddian passport? Would you allow him to stay in the factory's basement and bring him food until his orange card is ready?

The heck--There are billions of tails in this world. What makes that random fox special?

What makes me special?

Gorky shuddered again, turning away from the hangar, partly to hide his pants which were tenting again. It was too late and too cold outside. There was still a decision to be made. No--he already made the decision. Now it was the time to play it out. He picked his phone and called Colia.

24/dec 18:05 T-GOX EMS plant, Northen Ogul

"Hey, sexy..." Colia's girly voice made Gorky him jump.

He pressed the phone closer to his ear. "Hey there."

"I guess tonight still works for you?"

"Uh... Well, yeap. That's why I called." Gorky shifted his paws, buried in fresh snow.

"Have a certain place in mind?"

"Um, there's a few small bars in Gospodarska. You know, umm, Romchev street?"

"Oh, I know. I'll be out from work at eight o'clock, what'dya think?" Colia said.

"I can make it," Gorky sighed, "yeah. Pick any bar you like, I'll call you once you get there."

"'Kay, Jack. See ya there. And..."

Colia made a pause, while Gorky remembered he said his name was "Jack". Be cautious. Never reveal yourself, never the whole truth.

"Hmm, what you have in mind?" Gorky asked, looking over his shoulder, as if someone was watching him.

"If we like each other, after dinner... Umm, I got an empty apartment."

"Oooh." Gorky felt his forgotten maleness straightening up. "Oh."

"So, sexy wormtail, whaddya say?" Colia giggled.

"Uhh. You got me turned on already."

"Aw. See ya Jackie..." Colia hung up.

Gorky put his phone to pocket and sweeped around the horizon once again, checking for prying eyes. For narrowband microphones, for LTE tracers, for ruddy foxes buried in the snow.

That fox... I have to lookup the employee files, he thought. Got to find out his name, residence, exact species, nationality, canid pack group...

He walked back to the hangar, trying to remember why he wanted to date Colia in the first place. Because the mouse was a male? Because the mouse was more girly than him? Because he wanted to show himself he was sure with whom he'd want to breed, was that the case? To show himself he could find a real partner and not pay for sex?

Gorky entered the gate passcode correctly no sooner than the third time, his erection more painful than pleasing. The oppossum went straight to the lower restroom, below the office. He locked himself into a stall and leaned on the wall, breathing deeply, jaw curled in disguist.

Ceiling lights burned into his eyes, up and down, up and down as he puched his forehead against the wall. "Nnn... Not gay, I'm not gay, I'm not gay..."

In fifteen minutes the tenting in his pants died off, reinstated by a mild headache. The anti-sleep pills... Yes, his dose was overdue.

24/dec 18:17 T-GOX EMS plant, Northen Ogul

The plant was getting emptied. Mice, rats, hedgehogs, immigrant foxes checked out and left, closing the small doors behind them, seemingly lost in the snow wasteland on their way home. Gorky opened the office doors and sneaked inside.

"All clear?" Mikhail asked.

"Yep..." Gorky murmured, falling down on his chair. He didn't bother to take his coat off.

"Um, okay. I'm gonna take a leak, back in a second." The white rat got up and walked to the restroom, in the rear of the intermodal container that was their office.

"Uh, have you made any progress on Minichip's board?"

"Eh, not very much." Mikhail locked the toilet doors.

Then, there was silence. Holy, refreshing, beautiful silence of a winter's night.

Gorky bent over the table, putting his head between elbows, trying to micro-sleep. The blissful release lasted only a minute. He heard Mikhail flushing the toilet, then a door slam as he came back, at last his creaking chair killed the last bit of his sleep as it accomodated the overweight rat. Gorky quickly raised his head and gathered up.

"Sleepy, eh?" Mikhail asked.

"I... Uh, I'm so tired lately. Maybe I'll have to double my dose." Gorky replied.

"Eh, call your doc." Mikhail waved his hand. "Maybe it's not safe for you... I wouldn't play around with the pills, y'know."

"Yeah, I guess..." Gorky blinked, then logged in to his computer, calling the EDA application. "I have six designs to flesh out until the morning, how about you?"

"Oh, bad for you. I got that Minichip's dev board, then two smaller RF interfaces, ehh... Nothing too special here." The rat took a sup of coffee from his mug. He liked to dissolve anti-sleep pills in his coffee rather than just swallow them. "But looks like you've got a nasty night coming by."

Gorky closed his eyes. Sparkling lights danced, a prophetic kaleidoscope of an upcoming mental breakdown. "Yeah. It's all mostly regular stuff, though. More or less."

"True. Ehh, remember that Rhoddcompumashin's sixteen-layer fiber sniffer thingy from last week?" The white rat grinned, aligning app windows on his thirty-inch Pac Pro touchscreen. "You could win a similar jackpot tonight."

"Good Lord, not a sixteen-layer again."

Mikhail chuckled, then turned back to his work.

It's going to be a long night either way, Gorky thought. One hour until Colia would call. Let's get to work.

He called the first design file, a small ECU board made of milled bakelite. There wasn't anything special on that board, really. No RF stuff, no clock skew spaghetti, no power sequencing. The oppossum mingled with manual component placement and power lines routing, following the sender's general layout guidelines, then called the autorouter, setting it to milling mode. Minimizing the automated task to background, he called the second design.

Gorky blinked. The design confused him a bit. The PCB shape was very odd, tip-shaped on one end, having only bare dies and sub-01005 discretes. He checked if it would comply to T-GOX's precision specs and it did fit, but barely. It seemed like the board was made to be produced by T-GOX's plant and nowhere else.

Just in time, the first ECU design finished autorouting. He checked for inconsistencies, ran all the DRC automated checks, and spend a few minutes making sure that the autorouter didn't mess with his manual traces. Then he ran the thermal and power evaluation. Everything seemed okay, so he compiled the design and uploaded it to the manufacturing servers. The data flowed down to the production floor below, ending up in CNC lathes, autoplacers, pastemask printers, robotic loaders and the rest of machinery, all ready for tomorrow production. Gorky closed the design file and paid a watch to the second one.

He missed the days of mechanical keyboards. Silence that the touchscreens suddenly brought to everyday computing made him uneasy.

"Mikhail?" He called the rat.

"Err... What?" The white rodent seemed annoyed, wriggling his whiskers.

"Ever saw something like this?" Gorky turned his screen towards Mikhail.

Mikhail watched the design for a second.

"It's a bullet."

"What?" Gorky asked.

"Can't you see? An inexpensive fab process, half milimeter board thickness, and it fits into 7,72mm rounds. May I?"

Gorky let Mikhail tap his screen, calling the measure function. Then he checked board's length and compared it to Rhoddian ammunition standard.

"Well..." Gorky started, "it's not the first time we did stuff for defence contractors."

"And certainly not the last time."

"But... This isn't an SDR, or a phased array AFE, or... Mikhail, this thing looks like it could kill."

White rat lifted his phone, grinning. "I can kill you with my phone, Gorky."

"But..."

"It's not the weapon that kills, it's the paw that holds it. Relax." Mikhail tilted back his chair and returned to computer. "You've got seven more designs. And it's not midnight yet."

Gorky sighted, wondering if the mouse would call at all. Maybe Colia would cancel the meet.

"Mikhail... Why would anyone put electronics in a rifle round?" Gorky asked.

The rat scratched his ear. "RFID tracking. Precision timing. Maybe an aid in velocity and temperature measurement."

"How it's powered? I don't see any space for batteries on the board."

"Externally. By coils? Induction? Dunno, I haven't seen the rifle design so I can only guess." Mikhail said, taking a sup of his coffee. "I wouldn't think too much, just follow guidelines and don't ask questions."

Gorky ran DRC on the e-bullet thingy, his phone rang. It wasn't Colia, it was Padre.

The Padre. Head of the company. His CEO. The chairman. The Good Lord Darwin's right hand. Most Respected Sir Shogul Togoxianis. Or simply, dad.

24/dec 18:34 T-GOX EMS plant, Northen Ogul

"Dad."

Gorky's phone suddenly became all slippery.

"Gorky. My son." Shogul sounded almost sarcastic. "How's the progress at the fab?"

"It's fine, dad. Everything is running smoothly, we delivered nine shipments today, all in full quantites."

"What about design dept?"

"Mikhail is finishing his first out of three designs, and I'm at my second of seven." Gorky froze, looking straight, seeing nothing other than his own face reflection on the glossy screen.

"Will you finish it before morning shift?"

"Probably."

"Probably is not good enough. Do you have enough somnic inhibitors?" Shogul asked.

"Two bottles." Gorky said, slowly. "I will, I will finish all my designs until morning shift."

"That's better."

"Thank you, dad."

"I have an important task for you, Gorky."

"I am listening, dad."

"Please confirm me that you have design TRI77-REV1."

"I... I have it, dad. It's on my screen right now." Gorky sighed, it was the bullet board.

"Good. As soon as you finish it, I need you to make one hundred prototype samples. They need to be ready until 600 hours." Shogul ordered. "Can you prepare those samples?"

"Um... Yes, dad." Gorky sighed, then frowned. "All the fab equipment is operational. I will start the production myself, right after the design is complete. And I... There are some parts that we don't have right now. Some... It's a NanoDFN package, designation IC1 and IC3."

Gorky's hands and face were sweating. Mikhail seemed to pay no attention, but after all, Mikhail was just a support worker.

"Excellent. I am sending a supply van right now, that would bring you the needed components. I will arrive at 530 and inspect the manufacturing process. An important delegation from Tristan Corp arrives at 700, so if you mess something, there'll still be a short window to rerun the prototyping."

Gorky swallowed. "I won't make a mistake, dad. I have ran board fabrication all by myself, many times before."

His mind was blank, his current self compressed to a black hole singularity. Padre drilled a rip in his mind, a wormhole that grew, gapping, sucking out his will and self.

"Do not make a mistake, son. This is a very important contract. Remember to take your pills regularly."

"I will, dad."

"The supply van should be on the way, and you make sure to unload the components and store them somewhere safe."

"Understood, father."

"Once again, do not make a mistake, son. There will be consequences," Shogul empahsized.

"I will not make a mistake, dad." Gorky closed his eyes, seeing that caleidoscope of immanent mental breakdown.

"Goodbye, my son."

He dropped his phone on the table. You're going to burn out. You're going to burn out, Gorky, it's clear now. Because you're not competent. You're not up to the task of rapid in-time limited run production. You're a failure for the Family. You're going to end up as fertilizer in a shallow grave, on the family burial ground behind the villa.

But before that, you are going to check out the file for that fox. Tomorrow. After this mess is over, after you cancel the meet with that outcast rodent Colia, and finish the prototypes. Tomorrow, you're going to check that fox's complete file, origin, citizenship status, genealogy... Slice that fox to the bone, find a weak spot, and use it to threaten him. Blackmail his tail, destroy his dignity, tie him up in the basement, and then, oh Gorky, fuck him as long as you want.

Why?

And then, what?

What happens then, Gorky? Would you finally be happy with yourself?

Gorky?

"Uh."

"Gorky, you passed away for a second." Mikhail looked at him. "Don't scare me like that."

"What?" Gorky observed his table and the small office. Everything seemed to be there. His phone was lying on the floor, dad had hung up.

"Dude, you passed away, like, bang! B.S.O.D."

The oppossum looked around and blinked until his pupils adapted to the touchscreen readouts.

"Uh. Okay. I have to take another dose," Gorky said, "uh, probably missed my time."

He wiped dust from his phone and got up.

"Take care. Your family will freak out if something happened, to you, I mean." Mikhail returned to his work, taking a sup of coffee. "I just... Don't wanna be close when it happens, heh. Collateral damage and all that jazz, y'know."

The night was young, and he had work to do. His phone rang again, a familiar voice announced that the supply van had just arrived. It was the fox worker he saw in the morning. It was that red fox. His tights started to bulge again, it was like in a lucid dream.

He came down the stairs, walked through the long lines of machines and empty boxes. He opened the hangar gate, finding the red fox driver waiting in the snow, holding a cartoon box.

Like in a lucid dream he knew he'd have to awake.

"Express, uh, delivery," the fox hushed, steam rising from his muzzle as he spoke. "For the fab, sir."

Gorky grinned. "Come on in, you must be very cold."

"Oh yes, sir... I've been on my paws since early morning."

He watched the fox leaping across the gate. Natural and slender vulpine moves echoed in Gorky's mangled mind.

"I can make you some... tea." Gorky stuttered, eyeing the fox's ragged shoes. "You're new here, I still don't know your name, eh..."

"Jacob, sir. Uh, Fergusson." Some snow fell from the fox's tail down on the factory floor.

Like in a wet dream. He felt like he wasn't really there, like he wasn't in the empty space behind his eyes. Jacob Fergusson, that was his name.

"Okay. Okay... The wending machine is... down in the basement." Gorky led the fox to the hangar's end, then down the steep stairs, into the bomb shelter that was adapted into a storage space. His pants tented, he could feel the pre soiling his underwear.

"I'll... I'll take the box, you just wait me in here, okay? I'll... I'll bring some... Tea." Gorky wondered if the fox did see or smell his arousal. "Watch for the doors..."

For a split second, he saw Jacob's jaw curved in a shock, a moment later the doors slammed back, locking the fox inside the room.

Perfect.

He can delay the awakening, dream a bit more. There is time, the fox is secured. His prize is prepared.

Gorky returned to the office, writing a quick text to Colia.

24/dec 18:37 Gorky

You won't make it. There's just too much things going on.

No, you're wrong, Gorky. It will work, it will work, because it is my decision.

Yes, it will work. It will work because I say so.

Stupid 'possum. Do you want to be expelled from the Family?

Like I could find a job somewhere else.

No, you couldn't. There's no prosperity here.

Then, where?

I dunno, you tell me. Only Rhoddia would accept your passport, and Rhoddia's a mess. It's your decision.

I can always quit. It. All. Like, you know. Jump off east Lyubinska bridge. Or use the fab Insulation testers more creatively.

Then, what? Will it be any better afterwards?

Maybe the pain would stop. Dunno, that was my idea.

You have no idea how to stop it, don't you?

I'm just your stupid brain.

Then stop doing it! I need to stay focused for the dayshift. Workers will fool around unless I supervise them constantly. And at night, I have to concentrate on the designs. Now those samples. I have to prepare them now, Padre ordered... You don't want to lose another day, don't you?

But you'll miss that appointment with the mouse...

I know, I know. There just isn't enough time.

What, then? Text him that I'm busy for the third time?

No, no no. Skip half of night. Tell Padre that you have some important errands in the city. Some pickup, something. He'll understand.

Padre never understands. More, more, work more!

Neither Colia would understand. He's always asking me why we can't just let go for a night and return at dawn.

But you do engineering in the night-shift, factory supervision during the day. You couldn't make it any other way without the anti-sleep pills. There's no room for more employees. No space to fit another engineer.

No room... You mean, no money?

There is money. It's just... Money is for the Family, not for me. Eh, screw it. I'm going to meet him tonight, even if it would be my last day. I don't care, screw everything.

But Padre will...

Either that, or I jump over the bridge.

You, childish, tail-chewing bag of meat... Narcissistic piece of mind-slobbery! You'd kill me too, idiot! We're in this cranium together, dude.

Tell me what to do, then.

Don't meet him. Tell him you have some kind of family emergency or something. That you've ran out of pills and that you have to be down under some time. That you have to hurry up for a bank contract. Be creative!

The heck I'm gonna be creative. Just skip me today.

Okay. I'm gonna skip you for today. But just for today.

Fine. Begone!

Good, good. He's gone. Ah, the fresh air! Time to wake up the 'possum.

"Why?"

"And then, what?"

"What happens then, Gorky? Would you finally be happy with yourself?"

"Gorky?"

24/dec 20:43, Romchev street, Gospodarska

He took care of everything. He parked his S-class Meerkades three blocks away in a paid public garage which didn't have internal cameras, and paid all the parking bills and road tolls with cash. There was a GPS and phone radio jammer inside his car which he turned on before he ignited the engine. He took off his formal suit and tie and replaced it with a much more urban black jeans and blue hoodie jacket. He installed some black software into Family's servers, rerouting locator app in his phone to his secret rented server in West Eridania, to be able to spoof the real GPS data sent from his phone. It appeared like he was still around the T-GOX plant. He told Mikhail he was going to fetch a reel of some expensive components at the city, then he shut down the cameras on the hangar, deleted the last half hour of footage. Then he jacked and moved Jacob's van behind the fab, in a corner which wasn't covered with CCTV cameras. Finally, he returned to office, to finish two more designs so the fab won't be without work tomorrow, and Mikhail could prepare production right before he returns.

Gorky looked at his reflection in the Meerkades' window. He smiled. The young oppossum could be taken for a regular urban youth.

He left his real ID card in the car, so no one would be able to track him by long-range RFID. His phone had a passlock, it's file system was encrypted, and he fixed it a Flash-burner circuit just in case it got stolen. He took only one debit cash card with him, in case he was assaulted at an ATM. The Meerkades opened on his pawprint and voice identification, so he won't be carrying any keys.

The Family shouldn't suspect anything. They must not.

Gorky wished Colia didn't like him, that they stayed only friends, a pair of friends slowly cooling off. He wished that all this would end, that he'd be back to his office continuing where he'd left off, searching for Jacob's file. But then, the next day he might want to meet Colia again, or someone else. Maybe somehing good would turn out, he didn't know. And not knowing, not being in control, that was his true fear, the black box of uncertainty that Gorky feared. He wanted to know if Colia was worth his time. After that, he could plan ahead.

Deep inside, he thought, he wanted that red fox. He'd want to take him to hangar's basement and fuck him hard, no matter if he would like it or not. Just fuck the hell out of that vulpine immigrant and pay him a thousand tholars to keep his muzzle shut... Even better, threaten him with deportation.

Gorky's cock raged in his pants while his chest burned a purifying fusion flame of hatred. Beyond his frown, Gospodarska's pavements laid covered in snow. The roads endlessly threaded with cars, the Christmas rush bringing them all on the streets. He thought he hated everyone else, but in fact he hated only one person -- the one that was with him all the time, in his skull. People walked around him in hurry, carried by the shopping rush. He eyed some of them, avoiding looks from others. He put his hands in pockets of his black jeans, effectively hiding his erect shaft and the small stain it made on the fabric, but soon he found it was unnecessary. The more he met the eyes of random people, the more his own eyes narrowed and lowered, and his maleness became tame, chained inside it's cotton prison.

Colorful lights, yelling and laughing. An old woman was crying, a young couple kissed at the bar window. A male fox and a male hedgehog trudged, holding hands together.

He was at Romchev street. Let's call that little fu... That little rodent fuck. Do you like it, Gorky? That worthless, cheap little wormtail fuck. Gorky carouselled those purifying words in his mind and was just about to take out his phone, when he heard the mouse's voice.

"Hey! Hey, Jackie, I'm here!"

Gorky heard the gray mouse's voice and froze in place. His mind raced, expecting an ambush, a gang of wolves grabbing him by his neck, dragging him into a dark alley, then stripping him nude, his tail making shapes in the soft snow, the wolves photographing him with a nearby group of hood rats, then a slow gang-bang, his face a cum-covered mess, a copy of the video distributed among porn websites, and a copy emailed to Padre. The oppossum felt dizzy, the world around him went to a vertigo, collapsing into a spiral of imaginary blackmail and badmouthing, falling, falling...

Bile went up his throat. His knees would've betrayed him if he weren't close to the lamp post. He gripped the pole with his tail and adjusted his posture, swallowing. At the doorway of the nearest bar, in the warm ceiling light, there sat the familiar gray mouse. Gorky tried to catch a breath, concealing his agony.

His first impression was... Colia looked so differently in real life than on the Internet. The mouse was much taller than he had imagined him to be, and looked much older, maybe late twenties. He wore a pale red tartan shirt and beige slacks, and his brown coat was hanging on the rack above the table.

"Heya! Over here!" Colia waved.

Gorky gathered himself and waved back, walking into the bar. He cautiously looked around, trying not to look suspicious. His cheeks blushed hard under his smooth begie fur, his erection waning to nothing. Gorky felt a surge of something unusual pass through his mind: the gray mouse radiated assurance and easiness, which had a rather pleasant effect on the bothered opposum -- at least for the first few seconds.

Colia smiled and pointed Gorky to sit down across him. "Hey, Jack Taranovsky, right?"

"So, uh, yeah. Finally we meet for real." Gorky breathed out, still flustered. He hanged his own coat on the rack near Colia's, then sat, then forgot that his phone was in the jacket's pocket.

"Did you make it all right?" Colia asked, calmly eyeing Gorky. "Town's messy with all the snow and Christmas funk."

"Oh, no prob. I live a few blocks away." Cover your trail, good.

"Really? That's great. My apartment's in east Gospodarska. I walked for half an hour to Romchev street."

"Cool. I think you told me once, that you rent your apartment?" Gorky asked.

"Yeah. I've got two roomies, and we split the cost. It's very costly to rent an aparment in Gospodarska, y'know."

"I fancy that, yeah. Hopefully, it's close enough to the campus, right?" Room-mates, Gorky thought. Gotta remember that. In case I go to his apartment, and then we start doing something private, his rommies come back, all worked up from the gym, and then. Then. Then... Gorky blinked, trying to concentrate. I don't have any weapons with me, he realized.

"Sure. Their dorms are sold out years in advance. So this is the only way." Colia took a small menu paper and studied it. "So, what'cha wanna drink? A soft drink, or something..." the mouse lovered his voice, "...hard?"

Gorky smirked on the gray mouse's remark. "Coke would be fine."

"'Kay, Jack. Coming right up...". Colia winked, got up and walked to the bar. Gorky watched him talking with the bartender, bent over the bar.

The gray mouse's tail was jerking, and his round butt flashed through the thin slacks. Gorky quickly moved his view elsewhere, not to appear too suspicuos about his intentions. In a split-second he caught the gaze of an elderly wolf in the back of the bar. Gorky shuddered and froze, then discreetly looked around. There was no one in the bar other than him, Colia, bartender, and that old wolf. He shuddered again, wondering if the front doors are still open. If there are emergency exits. If the wolf jumps and tries to cuff him, where he could run? Jump over the table and crash through the shop window, then into the streets and run? But he'd have to take his phone from his jacket first, or else, he'd be really lost in the city. Oh, why didn't he put his phone in his back pocket?

Just as he got up to pick his phone, Colia returned with two large mugs. "I didn't ask you what kind of coke, so I took the diet one... Oh, someone called?"

"It's... Eh, nothing. I'm just... Checking if I switched off the weather app. It can easily drain your prepaid megabytes." Nice bail-out, Gorky. A poor student would want to worry about his prepaid credit. "Diet-coke's fine, though."

"Great. I took some alchohol-free beer for myself." Colia licked his lips. "Mmm, it's also fruit-flavoured. Strawberry!"

Gorky watched the mouse test his drink, then took a sup of his coke.

"Frankly, I imagined you a lot fatter." Colia said. "But your weight is so neatly distributed."

"That you can't tell that I'm over eighty five kilos? Heh." Gorky smirked. "If you ever see me nude, you'd think otherwise."

"I've seen enough, believe me." Colia smiled and winked.

Gorky flicked his ear. Thank God I cut off my face on the private pics I sent him, he thought.

"And I thought you were much shorter."

"Internet curves and bends things, y'know." Colia grinned. "Best thing is to believe only what you see with your eyes. And what you can touch."

"Yeah. Oh, the Internets." Gorky smiled.

"Did I tell you about that new thing, what's it called? Shapath. Yeah." Colia looked aside, thinking.

"What's about it?" Gorky asked. He heard about the thing, it was some kind of wireless community network. Amateur stuff.

"Oh, it's like a regular Internet, but it's local, and laid over a different set of protocols. Our professor touched the subject at the last lecture, about mesh networks resilience and scalability. Said that Shapath was a good example and that we should learn from it." Colia mixed his drink.

"That thing has no future. I've read some of it," Gorky said, raising an eyebrow, "and basically, social services and content are everything. If there's no Tailbook, Squeaker, or Metube, no one would want to be a part of it."

Gorky took a sup of his drink, looking at the corner. He tried to guess what stood behind old wolf's blank face expression.

"Oh, but there is," Colia said. "there are vast repositories of content, and everything's encrypted. I think they keep their datacenters mobile, out of some reason. They have a service similar to Metube, but it's accessed via a combination of packet data and radio broadcast. It's really good, and there are a few decentralized social networks, too."

"Really?" Gorky's tail jerked. He posted my pics on an amateur wireless network! Shit, shit shit.

"Yeah. You know, since that snow leopard eloped to Rhoddia, and all those leaks about Amber Nations's Sniffing Agency, people became careful. Shapath had developed a great deal... It's almost as functional as the Internet now."

"Are you somehow involved in it?" I must tell Padre. This 'network' is interesting indeed!

"Oh yes, I am!" Colia smiled, "I'm moderating Pawprint, one of the social networks. And I help a local node admin in his work, um... He parks his network node van at my building when he can't find a place in a public garage. Is Gerhard his name? Or Gotthard? Eh, I forgot it. An ermine dude, he's a really nice guy."

"Nice in a way that..." Gorky started.

"I wouldn't want him in my bed, though, if that's what you wanted to ask." Colia said, smirking.

"Did I tell you that you look really cute when you're angry?" Gorky said, trying to remember all the online chat sessions they had.

"Aw, thanks silly." Colia touched Gorky's paw under the table. "So, any plans for the rest of evening?"

"Well, I kinda sneaked out of my nightshift." Get that dirty paw off me, you punk. "It's not really that busy at night, so I kinda should... Um, return until mindnight." Gorky said.

"Aw, Cindrella. Didn't you say you work in a library?" Colia raised an eyebrow.

Think of a something! Gorky started to sweat. "Uh, well, I took another job, in a fast food restaurant."

"Oh, which one? Is it Raskolnikov's Chopped Chicken, um, in Hodorov street?" Colia pressed Gorky's paw under the table. "Aww. Tell me. I could visit you after classes."

"Oh, don't bother. I work from ten to three in the morning. It, it would be..." Gorky said, stuttering.

"It's quarter to nine now, Jack." Colia bent his head lower. "Eh, nevermind. Tell me, is it Raskolnikov? Or Czech-Mate down the corner?"

"I-- It's the Raskol. I work in the kitchen, so you can't see me so easily." Gorky tried to smile.

"Um... Wait, they added a real kitchen? I think they never prepared the chops, just microwaved them."

You're losing your ground here, Gorky. Careful now. "Well, they added it today, umm, a small add-on just at the back."

No point in keeping a consistent story now. Make the fastest escape strategy and get the fuck out.

"I'm gonna check them out tomorrow." Colia smiled. "Hey, sounds interesting, Raskolnikov's adding a real kitchen, who'd thought of that?" Colia took a long sup of his alchohol-free coke.

"Yeah. Tell me.. How big is your apartment?" Gorky wondered how he came to that. His mind worked a subject change diversion plan, and he felt happy for avoiding a potential minefield. What if the mouse was a Family's private eye?

Was he losing his mind? Another odd side-effect of the pills?

"Oh, it's very small, just one room, beds and nothing else. We shower in the public bath few streets away, and eat at the student canteena. It's not that bad, actually."

Gorky looked at the mouse, trying to imagine how this mouse's average day must've looked like.

"But as I said, my rommies are in a club tonight, then they go to a friend and will be back tomorrow around noon. So..."

"I'm really sorry," Gorky smiled, "but my evening sh--"

Colia touched the oppossum's fingers, petting them gently. "We can just sit and talk. Y'know. Play some music."

"I--"

"You can scratch my back, and I'll massage your paws. We can snuggle, uh, nothing serious, nothing sexual if you don't like it." Colia lowered his eyes and sighed. "It's the first time we meet after months of chatting."

"Colia, I really like you. I do, but..."

"I get so lonely as the days go by, Jack, without end. I got no personal time, I have no personal space, and..."

Gorky felt shivers up his spine. Was this mouse one of those angsty creepers? He cursed himself for not having any weapons with him.

"But your roomies surely go out sometimes?" Gorky asked.

"Eh, very rarely. This is the first time this month they went out. And it's dangerous to leave the apartment empty, y'know, because of the squaters." The mouse looked sideways, lowering his ears. "Do you wanna just walk me home?"

"I really, uh..." The oppossum shifted his paws, looking at the old wolf, then up at the celiling. "I'd really like to go, but not tonight. If you want we could meet next week, maybe I could find a free evening."

The old wolf got up, and slowly made his way to the restroom.

Mouse finished his coke, then looked at his claws, sighing. "Do you ever think about how it feels like?"

"What?" Gorky asked. Just get the hell out, the mouse is a psycho.

"Life passes by me, Jack, like food on a conveyor belt, and I can't touch it, can't taste it, because there's always other people, my family's poor, and there's never enough money, and I have to hide, pretend, and sometimes, sometimes..."

Not thinking, like a dream, Gorky wrapped his palm over Colia's hand. That involuntary action shocked him. That touch... It wasn't supposed to happen. It wasn't planned. He should just get the fuck out, before they get to bed. He should tell the mouse how creepy he was becoming.

"...sometimes, Jack, I get so angry, I hate the whole world, and I don't know if I should hurt somebody or hurt myself, Jack. I... No, I'm sorry, I should't tell you this, you don't want to know this." Colia shook his head, his ears flat. "I'm sorry. Gotthard said I should get to parties or clubs or gyms more often. Should've told you on chat months ago. But I don't have any money, and taking a cab after midnight is just too expensive, and..."

"Colia." The mouse's warm hand in his own, his inner voice silent.

"I'm sorry. Uh. I'm sorry, Jack, I'm usually not like this." The mouse took a deep breath, brushing his face. "It's okay. It's okay if you can't come by. We can meet again sometime later, if you don't think I'm now, uh, creepy or something. I totally understand."

"Colia... Listen to me." Gorky took both Colia's hands, and watched the fingers entwine. It felt like someone else was doing it from his skull, it felt like angels.

Gorky spoke slowly. "I really think you're cute. And I have to tell you something."

Stop! For fuck's sake stop it, it's the chemistry speaking from yourself, it's that unnatural 'humanity' instict, you don't need that. Fucking stop it, it's a drug your brain makes to get you addicted to sweet food, sex, hate, lust...

"Jack..." Colia shook his head. "I'm sorry. Uh. Go ahead."

Stop, stop, stop...

"Jack's not my real name." Gorky said.

Colia blinked.

24/dec 21:17, Tzar Jugt hotel, Gospodarska

The gray mouse felt nausseous when they entered the five-star hotel. Gorky used cash to pay the room, handing out several shiny new 100-tholar bills, a hefty tip to the recepcionist so that he keeps his muzzle shut and not ask for his ID. They were quiet in the elevator, both looking at ground. No words other than soft touches.

Colia was now sitting on the edge of the bed, his clothes laying on a pile in the corner of the room. Turning his back to the mouse, Gorky stood in the middle of the room, fully dressed, holding his phone.

"Why don't you turn it off?" Colia asked.

Gorky took a long look at his phone.

"I can't... If my Padre calls and I don't reply, there will be... Consequences." Gorky whispered the last word.

"You're too old to let yourself be overcontrolled." Colia said. "It doesn't matter if it's your boss or parents."

"Would this city want to have another rodent like you? Another useless unemployed tail waving the streets?" The oppossum took off his shoes.

"They aren't keeping you because they love you," Colia said, bitterly.

Gorky didn't reply, so Colia opened a drawer and looked for supplies. The room service left a few packs of condoms and two packs of lube. It was a five-star hotel after all, Colia thought.

"They keep you because they need you, Gorky. Once you show some fangs they'll change their tone, you can count on that."

"I cannot stop, I'm sorry." Gorky said, now removing his jeans. "If I'm not with them, I'm against them. It would all come crushing down."

"It doesn't have to be like that." Colia petted his back.

"I don't know any other... Way." Gorky said.

He was in his underwear now. The mouse grabbed his hand and drew him into the bed.

"Come on... I'll show you..." Colia smiled, pulling down his pants. "Oh my. You're wicked."

Gorky sighed, as the mouse came down on his bifrucated shaft. Colia rubbed his hand around it, then tested the tightness of the two tips, and the narrow space between them.

"Hmm..." Colia said, rubbing Gorky's stomach. "How much time you said you got left?"

"Uh..." Gorky moaned, then searched for a clock. None was to be found in the room.

"At least until the morning?" Colia asked.

"Uhh, I'd say one hour at most."

"That's all I need..." The mouse grinned, grabbing his legs. "Bend down, sweetie."

"Wait... I don't want you to..."

Colia already rose his crotch high in air and slapped the 'possum's butt, spreading his buttlocks.

"I'd really like to bone you..." The mouse whispered, "but if you don't like it, then we could go other way 'round."

"Uh..."

Gorky raced a train of thought through the midst of his brain's undiscovered country. It wasn't supposed to be like this-- he never enjoyed being submissive. He wondered how he even made it this far.

"I won't hurt you, promise." Colia said, then inspected the drawer, picking a pack of lubricant.

"Suppose I let you... Uh. Okay, go ahead." Gorky replied, tugging his head in the pillow.

"You clean?" The mouse asked.

Gorky was silent for a few seconds. "I... Don't know."

"How much time passed?" Colia leaned down to sniff under his tail.

"Uh... No idea. Three or four days."

Colia frilled his muzzle. "With a digestion like that, you'll get colon cancer in no time."

Gorky felt a touch of cold on his tailhole, then the cold, painful creamy sensation came into him, teasing in and out. Then the sensation ceased. He tilted his head and looked at Colia, as he was sniffing his lubricated finger he inserted into him.

"Well?"

Colia frowned. "Nope, you're not clean."

"I could douche up?"

"Nah..." Colia said, crawling on the bed under him. "I guess you're gonna be the top tonight."

Gorky saw the mouse truckling below him, then he turned around.

"Doggy style okay?" Colia asked, rubbing his ass onto the other male's tight.

"Oh yeah."

"I wonder how you're gonna put the condom on... That thing." Colia giggled, pointing a finger to Gorky's split penis. "Ever tried it?"

"Few times. Here goes..."

Gorky equipped himself, then ripped a pack of lube, which exploded all over the two unlikey lovers.

"Ahh, have you ever used that?" Colia said, giggling. "You have to rip it by the seam, here."

The mouse took another pack of lube, and applied it to himself. "Okay. All ready here."

"Mhm." Gorky whispered, closing his eyes. "All is... Um, I'm ready here too."

"Are you sure you're not a virgin?" Colia asked.

Gorky bit his lip.

25/dec 02:45, Tzar Jugt hotel, Gospodarska

Gorky was lying on the bed, gazing at the ceiling. He felt wet, and the towel he grabbed from under the bed didn't help too much. Humidity clung deep to his fur, and he was eagerly waiting for the mouse to finish his shower, so he could wash himself too.

He looked at his phone, it was 02:47, and no one called yet. Not too much time had passed since he booked the room, so Colia could stay until the morning if he liked. Gorky smiled, thining about the mouse. He got an impression that the rodent was experienced far above what he called himself for, and that confused him a bit. Was there more about him? Was he some kind of a prostitute?

Gorky got up and watched the Gospodarska district skyline, six or seven skyscrapers and a bunch of smaller office buildings below, surrounded by three other districts of lowlife darkness: Lyubinshka, Ogul, and Kirilenko. The streets made a spider's web around the city, catching the buildings in place. He had to be somewhere on the outskirts of Ogul now, in his family's plant, preparing the product sample runs. He had to be somewhere else, not here, not with this mouse. His gut hurted.

Gorky recalled the last few hours of his life, and turned away from the bed in disgust. He didn't like it. No, he liked it while it lasted, that's what he wanted to think, yet it made him ashamed that he thought so. It made him hateful of himself, because he put so much effort into having something which should come natural. And at the same time, it was something he shouldn't be doing in the first place. A sexual relationship between males was forbidden, condemned, and ridiculed since the beginning of time, across all cultures and through out the world. Gorky smiled. It was the fastest route to a painful death, either from a judge's verdict, from your former lover's claw, or from a sexually transmitted disease.

There, on the bed and looking through the window, the sweet prize of kisses and ecstasy turned sour in his mouth, metaphorically and literally. He swallowed, watching through the window.

A plane was passing by the silent skyline.

He wondered if he was thinking wrong about sex all the time. He wondered if carnal pleasures were a form of earthly hell, a route you needed to walk in order to understand and purify your soul -- if there was such thing as soul. He heard the tap closing. Colia got out of the shower and was now drying his fur on the wall dryer, still in the bathroom.

Was he gay at all? Maybe he was just confused, confined in his dualistic nature, always wanting and not wanting something at the same time. A didelph, enjoying and not enjoying, wanting twice the fun while in fact only wanting to spare himself of the effort. Time wasted, that's what the last 45 minutes were. He'll say Colia that he didn't like it. He came alright, and the mouse did came, but he didn't like it afterwards. Was it guilt? He brought Colia to this hotel room, so there was want. Was it because he wanted to prove himself he could have sex with another person, even if that person was of a wrong gender and of a wrong species? Or to prove his ego that someone might pick him among the thousands of other gay people.

Just as the plane was passing by out of his view, Gorky noticed a streak of flames on it's engine. Next moment another wing caught fire, and the craft curved it's trajectory, probably to avoid falling on the city center. Gorky jumped from the bed and watched with excitement and anticipation, then as the plane was off the window he opened the doors and stepped out on the terrace.

Then the shock struck him -- there was an actual plane crashing on the city!

Cold wind rushed into the room, bristling around the oppossum's nude figure. He didn't care for being stripped, he wanted to see what'll happen with the aircraft. He could hear the roar of it's jet engines, running high-pitched and out of sync. The craft circled one more turn, went ot a stall, then came crashing down into Lyubinshka slums.

"Why... Why is it so cold in the room?" Colia asked, coming out of the bathroom.

"It... It crashed! The plane, look!" Gorky pointed his finger.

The mouse shuffled to the terrace and looked in the direction Gorky was showing. "By Darwin's name..."

They were both mute for some minutes. The fire was spreading fast, as the temporary slums made of cartoon and wood went ablaze. Lyubinshka didn't have centralized water supply for firefighters to tap into, and within minutes much as a quarter of the slums were engulfed in flames.

Colia retreated to the room and sat on the bed.

"Good Darwin..."

"Eh, it's just illegal slums," Gorky said, "all those rats are gonna blend into Ogul and Kirilenko now."

Colia stared at him for some time. "How can you say that?" He screamed, "These are people, dying people in flames, only because someone didn't run a safety check on the damn fucking plane."

"Or it's a sabotage. Or it was just shot down. But I didn't see a missile, so... It looks interesting, yeah."

"You worry me, Gorky," Colia said, brushing his stomach and hips, "sometimes."

"Colia, I..." Gorky stopped for a minute, observing the mouse. "I'll be honest. I didn't like this."

"Didn't like... What, the sex?" Colia opened his muzzle in surprise, then closed it. "Oh, why didn't you stop, then? You didn't have to cum inside me if you didn't... like it."

"I don't know how to explain it properly. I just..." Gorky looked away, mesmerized by the dancing curtains. "I'm not made for this kind of pleasures."

"You think you're not gay, after all those months of chat and pictures exchange?" Colia said, looking up, "I... I really don't know what to think now."

"No, it's not about you..."

"It is about me, right?" Colia said, getting up from the bed. "It's about me alright." The mouse smiled and shook his head, gathering his clothes. "What did I do wrong?"

"You did all you could, all that was... Expected of you to do." Gorky sighed.

"What?" Colia frowned. "Expected of me?"

"You wanted sex, I wanted it, so there you go. You acted as expected, so did I. But I think... I wanted to have sex tonight because I wanted to have a reason..."

"Reason for what?" Colia took off his towel and was dresing up, his ears lowered.

"A reason to dump you." Gorky said flatly while watching the fire consuming one third of Lyubinshka.

Colia was silent until he dressed up completely, his voice full of anguish. "Couldn't you just... Tell me that, before we met tonight? Drop me a damn text?"

"I wanted to be sure. And..." Gorky turned around, meeting the mouse's gaze. "I don't like being lonely."

"The fuck?" Colia grinned. "You sure you're not just an asshole?"

"I live surrounded by people, but I don't love any of them. I'm not allowed to leave my family, so... In time, I learned to hate people."

"You're people too." Colia said, picking his jacket. "You can be hated, too. And you need some massive, professional counceiling before you should be allowed to go into people's lives again."

The mouse opened the hotel room doors, stepping in the hallway. Gorky rushed to stop him, to grab him by his hand.

"Get off me, 'Jack'," Colia said, "or I'll scream for help."

"I only meant to..."

"Get dressed up, you're nude." The mouse looked at the excited 'possum, shooking his head. "I'm going home, where I have people who love me."

"They don't love you, Colia! No one loves anyone... Colia! Colia, get back here!"

But the mouse was off, down the hallway and into the elevator.

Gorky closed the room doors, then the window. He dressed up in silence, not bothering to shower, not bothering about the mouse scent in his fur. He thought about the fox he trapped in the basement. Was Jacob his name?

The room was empty now, it's stillness interrupted only by hushed sobs coming from a shirtless figure sitting on the edge of the bed.

Jacob, I'm so sorry.

25/dec 03:21, Tzar Jugt hotel, Gospodarska

Colia's sensitive rodent paws brushed against the snow and hard pavement. He didn't like wearing shoes or socks. Empty coffee cup on the hotel's entrace stood at his hand's reach, but he threw it at the trashcan. Good side of the night was over, and his phone battery died a minute ago. Wyatt and Joram, his roommates, were going to be looking for him soon.

A pair of mustelids passed by, the man brushing his side as he strolled out of the door not bothering to look back. He thought about moving away from the entrance but the snow blizzard reinforced his dismay. He could go back to his apartment, but he didn't want to. There was nothing for him in there.

The gang inside peered through the door, calling his name. Slowly did the snow build up on his fur, wetting his thin shirt. He let the gang have their sneering. Each following guest made a similar gesture like the first one, scratching against him as they passed. He suspected that they knew him, or that Gorky somehow told them. He looked at his fingers and smelled them, thinking, no, they actually fed on his fear. It was a peculliar little thing, actually. Like nothing mattered, yet did, at the same time.

Colia sighed and got up, straigthening his shirt, then walked to the back alley. The gray mouse unbuttoned his slacks, lowering them below hips. He leaned on the wall, then waited for someone to come by.

Money was scarce, he needed it for his studies, for his rent, for his food. No one was going to feed him out of charity.

After an hour or so, a tiger in a suit came down from the hotel. He was two meters tall, all muscle, and his package screamed prolapse. "How much for a night?" He asked, speaking a rough southern Amber English accent.

Colia gulped, thanking Darwin for being young and handsome. At least he could barter.

25/dec 03:55, T-GOX EMS plant, Northen Ogul

According to air humidity it was some kind of a basement. Jacob tested the strength of the doors, they were the flame-retardant ones. A single LED light-bar on the concrete ceiling, and a bare concrete floor. A single stool. And few large boxes on the other end.

The fab manager told him to wait in there until he picked up some boxes from another storage, and locked him inside. Since then, more than an hour had passed. The red fox was becoming upset, but it didn't look like a classical abduction. He tried to remember if he knew anything too important, anything someone would want to remove him for knowing it. He worked in an electronics assembly plant, and though he didn't know what the plant was assembling, he knew unit prices of some components, and it made his tail twitch. Some chips were far beyond the price of equivalent weight in diamonds.

Jacob thought what would his parents and his girlfriend think about him vanishing without a trace. He wasn't thinking about death, not yet, but he had to take a leak, desperately. Cold weather made wonders to his upset kindeys. There weren't any sanitary installations in the room, only bare concrete, one chair, a single light-bar on the ceiling, and the large boxes on the far end. Room smelled of bad plastics and alcohol.

Jacob tried to calm himself, thinking that the factory manager forgot him in there. His phone couldn't catch a signal, no one responded to his yellings and later screams. The room seemed deaf. He decided to open one of the cartoon boxes and try to make improvised latrine out of it. He tore the seals with his claws and looked inside. This box and every other was filled with reels of SMT components and some bubble wrap. He took out the reels and placed them near the doors, then did the same with other boxes, proceeding to cut and bend the cartoon. At last, the red fox had an improvised latrine made of bubble wrap and paper, which he used immediately. He felt better afterwards, feeling good for being able to produce useful things out of mundane materials.

Two hours later, still nothing happened. Jacob was lying on the bare floor, dozing off, thinking. He woke up some time after, hearing voices of people outside, voices of cheering people. He screamed and howled, hoping they might hear his cries.

Minutes later, he jumped as the doors slammed wide open.

25/dec 04:35, T-GOX EMS plant, Northen Ogul

There were vehicles parked in front of the factory already. Gorky made his black Meerkades to a halt and exited on the soft snow. Reflectors on the hangar illuminated three expensive SUVs and two limousinees obscuring the entrance to the hangar.

Gorky felt like vomitting, he was late. Dad and the Tristan officers have already arrived, but the samples he promised to prepare weren't ready.

He adjusted his tie and walked forward, trying to forget what happened in Tzar Jugt hotel. Far on the horizon, he saw deep, red colors of the smoke licking the burning sky over Lyubinshka. He could smell the ash in air; the wind was blowing smoke and snow just in the right direction. Gorky came to the hangar doors and tried to open the latch, but it was locked from inside. There was no other way he could enter the hangar, as far as he knew the shape of that temporary building.

He picked up his phone and called Padre, trying to imagine an excuse. Breath from his snout smoked on the sub-zero cold.

"Gorky." His father soon picked up. "Where are you, my son?"

He heard some voices in the background, some moaning sounds.

"I am in front of the EMS plant, father. My passcode is refused, the doors seem... locked."

"I know where you are. Do you want to... uhh, come in?"

Gorky gulped. "I do, father."

"And where have you put the samples I asked you to prepare?" Padre sighed. "We've been searching them all night long."

He gulped.

"I... I haven't prepared them yet, father."

There was a pause. Gorky heard the Padre moan, then yell: "Open the Darw-damn doors".

Gorky leaned on the cold metal wall, his legs trembled.

"Okay, someone will open you shorty, son." The Padre said, shifting his phone from one hand to the other. "Hold still... Looks like I'll be the one."

"I can wait until mmm-- morning if you ask me to, ff-- father." Gorky replied, stuttering.

"I wasn't talking to you... Uh, what a mess, ohh..."

Gorky shifted to the hangar doors, putting his ear on the iced surface. He heard distant noises, maybe grunts. It seemed like the old Shogul Togoxianis was crunching his phone, or rubbing his back with it. Nevertheless, Gorky didn't hang up, but listened to the noises, keeping his phone on the other ear, waiting.

Through the doors he distinquished voices of four, five, maybe six people, maybe more. Someone was yelling and cursing.

"Ahh, good, now. Agmen, take the lead. Turoi can attack him from side, and the rest of you, ah, keep him tied up. And Nicolai, bring some damn towels!"

Gorky waited, wondering what was happening inside. There was moaning, gasping, and he heards steps.

"What a mess, uhh." Old 'possum grunted behind the doors.

"Dad?"

Hangar doors slit open and Padre's arching figure filled a crack of white light. Hot air blew outwards into the face of the trembling young oppossum. Gorky smelled a salty scent on Shogul Togoxianis, something that couldn't be linked to a perfume.

"Come inside." Padre pulled the doors, prolapsing the slit leading to hangar's warm insides.

Gorky slipped in, tapping off the snow from his suit. Only now he noticed that Padre was nude from the waist down.

"You failed in producing the samples, but I've smoothed out the matter," Padre said, "for some time."

"I am sorry, father, I will make you up for..."

"Silence."

The doors slammed behind him. Padre still had his shirt and tie on, and his split shaft drooled down, silky white and wet. Gorky decided not to raise any question about why his father was nude and smelly.

"You will start making samples right now. You have around sixty minutes for the first batch of 300 pieces."

Gorky stood his ground, observing the scene at the middle of the plant. The central promenade, walking space around the assembly machines was occupied with five people of a different species. They all wore suits and ties, but were stripped bottomless. They formed a circle, holding something... No, someone.

"I will distract the Tristan officers as much as I can, but prepare to tell Mikhail that he is to be needed on the floor soon, in case you don't finish the first batch of samples in time." Padre hissed, joining the Tristan officers in the clearing among the machines. "Do not fail me," he emphasized.

"Yes, father. I will start the... production... immediately." Gorky managed to spit out these words before rushing to the office inside the container above the production floor. He wondered if his legs would betray him on the way up.

He turned around for a second.

Down below, the Tristan officers were holding... Jacob, the auburn fox he had claimed for himself. They... They found his fox, his own fox, and were using it for their pleasure. Padre had probably found Jacob in the bunker, because the bastard vulpine was yelling or hitting the doors. That's how it happened... Padre took him out, and presented him to the Tristan businessmen as a side distraction. That was clearly the case here, Gorky thought. Padre probably boned the fox himself first, before others took over, taking the vulpine on turns. Why you had to be so loud, Jacob, for Darwin's sake? Why didn't you sleep in your room when they arrived?

Gorky clutched his fists and grunted, swiping cold sweat. Mikhail was still in the office, working at his computer. He didn't say a word when Gorky entered, acting like nothing unusual was going on.

"Did you... Did you saw what they did to that courier?" Gorky asked.

Mikhail shook his head. "What? Should I be seeing something?"

Gorky grabbed the white rat from his chair and brought him to the office window, which gaped at the production floor below. "Can't you see? Six people gang raping the hell of that fox."

"I see... Nothing." Mikhail replied, blinking. "I see assembly machines and storage pallets."

"Right there, in the middle of the promenade." Gorky pointed his finger. "I see two oppossums, a black rat, a mouse, black panther, and a tall gray fox. Do you see them? All around the red fox in the middle."

"I... I see some... People." Mikhail choosed words. "But it's nothing important. I have work to do, please. There's... There's nothing you can do about it."

At that moment, down on the production floor, Jacob howled. It was a painfull vulpine shriek that was silenced by a panther's smack. Tristan officers and Padre arched around the fox, so Gorky couldn't see what they were doing to him, which part went to which orifice, and if the panther's claws left any red scars.

"Can't you hear him? The fox is in pain!"

Mikhail didn't move. "He did howl... Much lounder, yeah, before you arrived. But I suppose he got... Tired. Or he realized screaming couldn't help."

"The fuck..." Gorky looked away, massaging his temples. "I need to prepare the samples, uhh... Then they would stop. Yes."

Mikhail nodded. "I, uh, downloaded CAM data into the assembly lines."

"For the... bullet thing?" Gorky rubbed his cheeks.

"Yeah. You must login to the manufacturing server and issue the order. I... I don't have the credentials."

"Right. Right." Gorky sat at his computer, but he couldn't see what was on the screen. His sight became blurry. "Mik... Mikhail. I need my dose, or I'll... I'll collapse."

A thought flew over Gorky's mind: 'I forgot to open the server for Mikhail. If I hadn't forgot, oh Darwin... Mikhail might've started the assembly by himself. None of this would've had happened.'

The white rat took his own mug of coffee and offered it to Gorky. "Take it, I dissolved enough inhibitors inside."

Gorky took the mug and drank greedily until he swallowed all the coffee. Then he laid his palms on the table and breathed, waiting for the somnic inhibitors to reach his gut and dissolve in the bloodstream. He thought he heard a hushed yelp from the floor below, trying to think that it didn't matter.

"Should last you some hours." Mikhail said in the distance.

"Did you... know him?" Gorky whispered, his mind racing between deep sleep and full awarness.

It took Mikhail some time to respond. He was preparing a new mug of coffee on the vending machine. "The fox, Jacob? He got here last week. I think he came from Britonnia or Eire, not sure."

"Does he have any... family?" Gorky put his head between his hands, the drugs grinding him to a painful vigil. "Friends? Somebody?"

"No idea, really. He rents a room in the slums. Peshum told me he faked his driver's licence on the black market, so he could at least drive a van or a taxi." Mikhail sat at his desk and pretended not to hear occasional shrieks from the production floor. "He was unemployed, what's more to say?"

"Once they're bored of him, you'll be going there next, you know." Gorky said, tapping his touchscreen. He called the manufacturing server interface.

"Or maybe it's gonna be you," Mikhail said flatly, "you never know how the boss gonna decide."

Gorky clenched his right fist until the claws dug into his skin. "Hush! Padre needs me for the production queue."

"I could start the production, too. I know how to insert reels and supervise assemblers." Mikhail smiled. "It's no big deal. Just need the login credentials for the main server. I'm sure boss Shogul can guide me through the procedure."

Gorky assigned the production line and logged off the server. The lines would now start automatically, he only needed to insert raw boards and component reels.

"Okay, I'm gonna go feed the lines." Gorky said, getting up.

"Good luck." Mikhail said, taking a sup of coffee.

Gorky didn't pay any more attention to the rat and left the office. He came down the stairs to the production floor, trying to pass by the group of Tristan officers as discreetly as possible, taking the needed part reels from the basement storage then hurling to the pick and place machines to get them attached.

Passing by, he took a better grasp of the scene.

Jacob was sprawled on the floor, whimpering his every breath. Tristan officers and Padre were resting on crates and chairs around him, gently brushing their bellies. The fox's fur, the only orange fur among the blacks and grays, laid smudged with various body liquids, which were seeping down from his lithe figure, mixing on the metal floor below. The hurt fox lied in the middle of that preverted metallic palette, the pigments of inner flesh smudged around him: the transparent white, the glossy beige, the burning yellow, musky brown and blood red. Mauling artists gleamed contentedly, grinning over their piece of art, over the person they ruthlessly raped, scorned, humiliated and destroyed.

A jolt sparked across Gorky's chest, awakening something there.

Shogul held his phone and slowly circled around, recording a video of the scene, then took some still shots. Jacob twitched his closed eyelids as the LED flash sparked over the sprays of white liquid on his face. There were six or seven empty champaigne bottles around, but the analytical part of his mind counted only two corks on the floor.

Turning away from Jacob, Gorky felt a hook clinging in his ribcage, a curved needle that buried deep, ripping a hole through his own flesh. He came to the assembly machine and attached the component reels he was holding, then searched for the 'enable pickup' switch. But the oppossum's vision was blurry again, the fur on his cheeks wet.

He walked around a row of robotic manipulators and conveyor belts, covering his face. He saw what he did to Jacob. He. He understood what his urges and actions and dellusions have lead to, he even indulged himself thinking that he had learned his lesson. As if the tears and sobs that shook his body were enough.

"Gorky, my son..." Padre started, getting up. "You smell heavy. Take off your clothes."

The Tristan officers chuckled. A low voice said: "You into incest, Shogul?" Then they chuckled some more.

Gorky hid behind an assembly line, walking fast, trying to swallow the rush of coffee and somnic inhibitors that went up his throat.

Shogul closed in from another direction, walking slowly, smiling. His didelph shaft was getting hard, telling him that this night and this frothing young oppossum in front of him -- his family, his flesh and bone -- did belong to him, to the Padre, to the elder Togoxianis. He owned him. As long as laws, economics and tradition were concerned, Gorky was Padre's property.

"Come, son." And it was all right.

Tiny splatters of blood around Jacob, smeared by the fur of his legs and tail, and the long, heavy shrieks that soon turned obsolete, and the high-power LED light groups from the ceiling drilling to his eyes, and Padre, walking close, four steps from him.

Now three steps from him.

"Lee... Leave that fox... Alone, fa... Father. Leav... Ple..." Gorky hissed, exposing his full set of teeth and the beautiful jaw that God Darwin gave him with a covenant to his kin, so that they may rule all other species as the oldest race, the master species, Lord Darwin Charles' firstborn. "Plea... Plea... See..."

Two steps from him.

"Come, son. You smell of mice, where have you been?"

"Lee... Leg go. Leg. Go. Leg go. Og me. I hab to... Sam... Sambles prohduhtee... " Gorky didn't feel his tongue. He retreated one step.

"Come, son, it's all right. You don't need to worry about samples, Mikhail helped me prepare them. We assembled them already."

Gorky faltered, keeping his hand on the coveyor belt rail. That helped him to stay on his paws. Was it possible? Mikhail said: 'I'm sure boss Shogul can guide me through the procedure.' Was that the case here? Did they prepare the samples even before they found Jacob? Yes, it was obvious now, Gorky thought. Shogul owned the factory, and normally, he had access to the servers controlling the machine lines.

"I'm not angry at you, I was faking it to see your reaction. Where have you been, my dear boy? Come, give me a hug and we'll be together. I forgive you."

One step from him.

Padre's voice warm and helping. "You did an excellent job on routing that gauss rounds, son. The test went good. Oh Gorky, you should have been here when we tested them, oh the fireworks! Have you seen it outside? You should be proud of yourself, son. Why are you afraid? Now come and let me introduce you with our new business associates."

The test?

The fireworks?

The plane crashing over Lybinshka?

"N... Noo... No..." Gorky saw his father through a tunnel, everything around was black. He felt a liquid run down his legs, but the feeling of disgrace was quickly silenced by raw fear. He kept faltering backwards, away from the Padre.

"Lepton resonance works, Gorky. Tristan United developed the oscillator circuit, and T-GOX will produce those rounds for them. Billions of gauss rifle rounds, all standard ammunition. It doesn't require any modifications on the rifle, son, any classical pistol or automatic will work with those. Do you have a slightest idea how big this job is? On the behalf of the Family, I have signed the contract already, and..."

Gorky's jaw was open wide, and he couldn't form words anymore, only hiss helplessly. Tears, froth, and half-digested coffee dripped down his hissing muzzle, staining his shirt, tie, and ID card.

Shogul reached a hand, grabbing his son. "Come on! Look at yourself, you're frothing like that time your mother was still alive... Oh my dear boy."

Gorky jumped backwards, trying to escape, but his hand didn't listen, not letting go of the conveyor belt. He stepped on his own tail, and that tripped him over. The boy landed down lightly, like a rag doll, falling into uncounciouness.

His guts released their burden at both ends, his limbs stiffened. Breathing went shallow, soon to be undetectable.

"There, there... Daddy is taking you home..."

Advanced neuron circuitry in his brain that formed 'Gorky' had already ceased functioning, the more ancient one shutting it down. The decision was made that he'd have better chances of survival looking apparently dead.

Shogul grabbed and lifted the limp body.

25/dec 05:29 Gorky

I'm so sorry, Jacob, I'm so sorry.

That won't change anything now, would it?

If you would only wake me up and I would get up and do all those things I should've done, I would find and take their gauss rifle and kill them all then burn the plant to the ground.

Fix one crime with another?

World's rotting with crime. It doesn't matter.

So then what? You'll be the same like Padre. You know how he dealt with the Gospodarska district council?

Of course I know. They didn't deserve it. But Jacob does! He deserves a big, fat avenge.

To avange what? His ruined butt?

Don't be a pig. They taped his disgrace and would probably...

You were thinking to do the same, didn't you? Why you locked him in that room?

Because... I did. I wanted to do that to him.

Do you still want it?

No! Oh, Darwin, no! I was so blind... I was to become like them.

So what changed?

Colia happened... I had sex.

For the first time?

For the first time.

Yeah, I know. I was there, watching.

Of course you did. We're in the same head.

So did you like it?

I think you know that already.

Buckle up, I'm bringing you back.

*** EOF