FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Body-surfing the waves as only a lean young otter could do, Javier coasted toward the shore and the spaces where only the knowledgeable few could gain entry to the old boardwalk. He reached the wet sand at the tide's edge and performed a happy tuck-and-roll to end up on his hindpaws again. Although a river otter, he could handle the vast salt water as well as his seafaring cousins. His dark brown fur blended well with the darkened spaces under the piers, only the cream-colored chest and belly fur visible above the close-fitting yet modest swimwear. He shook himself thoroughly, his short rounded ears rattling but a little, a sensation and sound that he always found amusing for some reason. A quick look around confirmed that he was indeed on his own, and he made his way at a leisurely pace to a place that he had discovered the summer before his first year in high school. It was still his favorite place to hide away, and perhaps today in particular, he felt the need to be alone.

Perhaps as recently as a score of years or so ago, the boardwalk would have been filled to capacity in these summer months. It had been built almost a century before, and built to last. No one then could have imagined that it would last beyond its time. Javier had seen pictures of the place in its heyday, from "bathers" in clown-like costumes that modern pups and kits would have thought ridiculous, to the mid-century conservatism, to the "scandalously" revealing swimwear not long after, then to the raucous noises of boom-boxes almost able to drown out the music of the carny rides and arcades... By the time Javier was born and then but a little pup, almost nothing had remained, save for empty buildings, snack-shacks in their death throes, a few tiny craft shops trying their paw, knowing how much the odds were against them, nothing open before Memorial Day nor past Labor Day, no matter how warm or obliging the weather to either side of that enforced societal marker. Even that had gone away as new attractions outshone the old. The place was still maintained, in a general sense, but it was deserted.

The old cement posts that supported the boardwalk were huge, solid, worn yet nowhere near to being dangerous enough to condemn. Someone owned the property, even though it wasn't used for anything these days. Well, not legitimately, anyway. Javier carefully avoided looking at the evidence of "private parties" under the pier. No lights at night meant an ideal place to toke up, fool around, do some deals, or other things that require (or at least prefer) darkness. Because the area was so quiet at night, so deserted above and so secret below, there was no need to disturb the buildings atop the pier's length. That, and the night watchmen who showed up near sunset and left just after sunrise. They watched the property; whatever transpired below their hindpaws was of no particular consequence. In the way that the chiaroscuro of the lawful and the unlawful seemed to revolve about one another, the balance prevented either from disturbing the other.

During the day, all was one. Javier met no one along his path to the one trapdoor he knew would take him directly into the arcade. It was probably meant to be some form of service entrance, or maybe even a bootlegger's hidey-hole, but whatever the case, the otter felt that it existed now solely for his use. He glanced around to ensure no one was looking, and he was through the trap and pulling the wooden flap behind him almost before he got his thick tailrudder inside.

He stayed still for a few minutes, letting his eyes adjust to the dimness inside. He had to admit that he now very much wished he hadn't even_heard_ about that damn creepy video game with the killer animatronics. At least there was nothing quite like that here, at least nothing gory. In fact, he had always had the feeling that the arcade liked him. The space was quiet, with the sounds of the waves kept at a safe distance, and it was dim but not dark, as the dusty panes of glass high above let in whatever light they could. Javier always felt that the space was glad to be remembered, to be appreciated. An old thing knows when a new thing arrives; the mall and modern "family entertainment center" wasn't all that far away, after all. The arcade liked to be remembered, and the otter always came by a few times during each summer to remember it fondly.

He padded slowly through territory that was as familiar to him as almost anyplace else in his life - neighborhood, school, home. He was sure that his webbed hindpaws would be a devastating clue against him for trespassing charges, yet he never feared them. He had never destroyed anything, never damaged anything, only touched softly, reverently; it was his own tabernacle to something and somewhen simpler. He and the arcade were kindred spirits, in one important way: When they ceased being what others expected of them, they had been left to themselves, going nowhere, merely being, but being who they were. He had brought microfiber cleaning cloths here at the end of his first summer, just to dust off surfaces, show some respect, tend to the temple like a good supplicant. He did so at least once a year now, all through his high school career, and now that that career was over, and no other was to present itself, perhaps he would keep doing so.

The old Skee-Ball machines were still lined up against one wall, like they were from the day they were installed. There was no power to the building, so the lights and the scoreboard wouldn't work; however, someone had managed to pry out the coin box from one of the middle ones, so there was nothing to prevent the old wooden balls from coming all the way back down when they fell through one of the target holes at the top. Javier enjoyed the skill of it, practicing every time he came here. He didn't bother with scoring, just tried to hit whatever target he was aiming for, and he had an endless supply of ammunition. The wooden spheres felt good in his webbed paw, and even after a long school year out of practice, his arm muscles remembered their old tricks quickly, the flick of the wrist, the spin, the slide, the echoing carom off the side...

The gun-like games required power to operate, and he didn't much care for those anyway. There was enough violence in the world without pretending that a gun was for anything other than killing. None of the video games could work without power, and neither could most of the pinball machines. Those, he missed. There were a few classics from Gottlieb and Bally, with names like_Wizard_ and Fireball and theme games like The Addams Family that always made him laugh. For all he knew, they could be salvaged, refurbished, but such things required money - not something he had in abundance at this point. There were a few classic pachinko games though, imported from the parlors in Japan (or so he always imagined). The flashing lights didn't work without electricity, but two of them still had working springs to fire the small metal balls into the vertical fields of pins to bounce off of. No payouts, of course, like real pachinko in Japan; gambling wasn't allowed anywhere except on the reservations, so nothing like a slot machine could be allowed to pay out anything.

"Ray--"

Javier nearly jumped out of his fur. Was someone else in here? It was like someone calling out a name, but who...?

The otter remembered to breathe. He moved over to the counter where the ring-toss bottles used to stand. Talk about old school, and still probably the best money-maker in any carny circuit. Sheer physics made it one of the toughest games on the boardwalk, and people would plunk down dollar upon dollar, trying trick after trick to get it to work...

"Ray--"

Small rounded ears pricked up as much as they possibly could, and chestnut colored eyes peered all around. Someone calling out again, except... Javier considered. It was a voice, yet it was identical to the first, like a recording or...

"Ray-- ... Ray--"

Yes, a recording. A name, or a word, cut off. The otter's ears made him turn his muzzle toward the source of the sound. Was it filtering in from outside somewhere, like a loudspeaker?

"Ray-- ... Ray--dee-dee-dee-dee--"

Javier's webbed hindpaws made not a sound as he padded slowly toward the sound. Now he_really_ wished he'd never heard of that damned video game...

"Ray-- ... Ray--dee-dee... Radiant Ul--"

Something flashed in the back corner of the arcade area, near where the offices used to be. The otter had gone into the office area before, found that someone had carried off the furniture, file cabinets, just about everything. Someone could be in there, playing some sort of trick on him, but who would even have known he'd be here, today or another day? And why would they...

"Radiant Lion!"

The voice was booming, royal, a commanding presence in a place that seemed darker now that something within it glowed with light.

"There is light in your-- in your-- in your few-ew-ew-ew-ew-ew-ew-chur..."

The glow pulsed slightly with the sounds, recording and effect timed to one another and not entirely in synch. It didn't stop the sensation of something crawling through the otter's slightly damp fur, as if it were suddenly much colder than the summer's day would merit. He was close now, close enough to turn a corner and see, but would he want to? Who could say? Who might tell?

With a blinding flash, the words boomed forth with perfect clarity:"Radiant Lion! There is light in your future! Come have your fortune told by the Lion who sees all!"

A fortune-telling machine? Javier considered a moment. Had there been one on the boardwalk before, here in the arcade or anywhere? They were popular enough, no question, from the first ones built over a century ago, like Madam Zita from the long-defunct Roover Brothers. He knew of them, read about them, Princess Droaldina, Estrella's Prophecies, Zoltar, but he didn't think one... couldn't remember... Swallowing, the otter turned the corner to uncover his fortune.

A full two-meters tall, larger than most machines of this sort, the upper half of the box-like structure was glassed in to allow the animatronic lion within to move freely. Only the upper torso was represented, clad in royal red velvet, a simple yet regal crown upon the thick mane on his head. The mane itself was beautifully made, and the glass eyes were a haunting shade of dark amber. The chest moved rhythmically, some mechanism inside pushing in and out to simulate breathing. One forepaw held a small, perfect, clear glass ball, while the other must have had some sort of armature that swung the forepaw back and forth, only a few centimeters over the Tarot-like cards that were fanned out in front of the seer. The fur looked perfect (it had to be artificial, of course; it was unlawful even to donate one's fur after death, for adornment of any kind), with a healthy glow provided by the lights above and behind the robotic figure.

"There is light in your future! Do you wish to know what awaits you?"

"I wish I knew where your power supply was coming from," Javier chuckled softly to himself. Not only was this machine operating on full juice, it was as clean as if it had just been taken off the factory floor. Not a speck of dust, not a pad-print on the glass, not a scratch on the bright painted wooden frame of the base. The interior of the case looked pristine. It was perfect. Utterly perfect. Preternaturally perfect.

"Your future waits to be told! Let the Radiant Lion show you the way!"

The lower jaw piece of the lion figure moved a bit stiffly, only able to move up and down, without the expression that articulated lips provide, but the illusion was still a good one. Javier found himself patting his pockets, then chuckling. He'd left his coins in the locker he'd rented in the changing facility at the ocean-end of beach's central mall. "Bad time to run out of change," he said softly.

"Your future is beyond value, if only you will take it."

Blinking, the otter laughed again. It's a good carny sort of come-on line, designed to get more people interested in spending their coins. "How about I owe you one?" Javier joked.

"All you owe is to be yourself."

Nearly tripping over his own tail, the young mustelid staggered backward.Did that thing just answer me? No way, no freakin' way...

"Your future waits to be told! Let the Radiant Lion show you the way!"

He remembered to breathe. Recording. Random recording, that's how these things operate. It's all a game. Maybe he'd tripped some kind of sensor that let the machine know someone was around. A floor switch, the sound of him playing Skee-Ball, an electric eye...

...electric?

"Do you wish to know what awaits you?"

The mechanical forepaw holding the crystal ball lifted a little, as if emphasizing the question; the paw moving back and forth over the cards paused. Javier looked closely at the cards. Each contained some sort of symbol, picture, whatever; random, no doubt, and they never changed, they were glued to the surface of the "table" that the lion sat behind. (The lion_figure,_ Javier reminded himself. That's not a real lion in there.)

The forepaw hovering above the cards flipped over, palm up, black pawpads perfectly reproduced, the golden fur that covered the mechanical hand truly beautiful."The choice is always yours."

"Okay." The otter's voice shook a little, but he kept going. "I'll go with the joke. Go ahead. Tell me my future. I don't even think I have one, so you might as well give it a shot."

Something changed, in the box, in the arcade, in the air. The body electric inside the transparent booth seemed to breathe more deeply. The mechanical lion's head moved smoothly, pivoting to look at the crystal ball."Your destiny is in your name, and in the home where your heart most dwells. You have much to give to the world. You must not let your light be dimmed. Be bold. Be daring. Take your fortune and meet it head-on, for it waits for you." The head turned back with absolute precision, and the eyes blinked. The mechanical forepaw that hovered over the cards rapped three times, and Javier heard the sound of a card, like a thick playing card, being dropped into the slot in front of the box. This is where the "fortunes" were released, from a deck of random cards with as much telling of the future as a Chinese cookie. The otter reached down, curiously, and took the smooth card into his webbed forepaw. It was crisp, clean, as if newly printed and never circulated anywhere before. On one side of the card was a full-color reproduction of the Radiant Lion logo, and on the other, a printed message:

Mr. Rigoberto Goldsmith Café Trofee 351 Lygon St This Sunday for Brunch

Javier turned the card over and over in his forepaw, looking for the trick, trying to suss the joke, not understanding, not believing. "This is my fortune?"

"It is your future."

The otter jerked his head back upward again, finding himself staring into the eyes of the lion, the hauntingly dark amber eyes, the hard-staring, glittering eyes that held him to his place. Javier could see nothing else in the world save for those eyes, and as he looked deeply into them, he knew... he_knew..._ somewhere so deep inside himself that he could never find it without believing such an abyss to exist in the first place.

"The choice is yours. But you are needed."

The lion's lips articulated the words softly, carefully, the jaw barely moving. The eyes softened but were no less powerful. The forepaw that hovered over the cards moved slowly upward, rising to rest flat upon the inside of the glass, fingers together like a pledge, the pads pressed firmly upon the smooth surface. Javier felt his own arm rise, his webbed forepaw touching the glass on the other side. He gasped slightly; the glass would have been warm from the lights inside the case, but it was the touch of the lion's pads to his own that had stunned him. There was no longer any impediment between them, and the lion's fingers spread slightly to weave ever so gently against the otter's webbing.

"The future is a choice. It needs you to choose as much as you are chosen."

The young mustelid's tailtip beat a gentle tattoo against the floor behind him, the only other sounds being the distant and muffled call of the ocean and the deep thrumming rumble of the lion's purr. The air around him, still for so long, moved with the slow parade of dozens of spirits, not in a dirge but in an processional of honorable achievement. The scent of the lion was strong, the mane moving softly in the warm wind of the Serengeti, the nearly overwhelming sensation of light, of promise, of possibility, of fulfillment. Javier felt his heart leap free from all that had held him back, all that others had expected of him, all the shackles of the ordinary, the easy, the feckless. The lion's heart leapt with his own, drawn high, higher, forever stretching out beyond the ken of any one being, yet the hearts bound together saw paths of differing hues, brightness, one shining golden thread that produced still others, joining the brilliance of the rising sun on a horizon no longer so far away, each creating the other with the combined light.

Slowly, Javier closed his eyes. He felt the lion lean forward, felt himself enveloped in the warmth and primal scent of the mane, sensed the soft breath that caressed his small, rounded ears, and the lips that kissed his forehead in supplication of the Third Eye that would never close against the beauty of its vision.

"Take your future, Javier..."

The otter jumped at the sound of something dropping to the floor near his hindpaws. His eyes snapped open. His forepaw touched the cool glass of the fortune telling machine. Inside, seen only in the dim lights of the darkened arcade, the animatronic lion's cold glass eyes gazed at nothing, the glass ball in one forepaw, the other forepaw motionless over the cards.

On the floor, slightly behind him, Javier saw the large, thick, gold-looking coin that apparently had dropped from the coin return slot, although how it would have fit in there in the first place... The otter turned, bent to retrieve it, and turned back to the fortune telling machine.

The empty floor space showed the undisturbed dust of years.

* * * * * * * * * *

It was well past eleven on the Sunday morning, and Javier sat on the bench across from Café Trufee, his small rounded ears set back, his tail nervously thapping the ground. He had spent the last three nights spending a great many hours staring at the ceiling above the bed in his room. He'd tried everything he could not to think about it, not to wonder about it. He had to put the card and the coin into his sock drawer, because the coin somehow always managed to be in whatever light there might be in the room, shining a copy of itself onto the ceiling right in the otter's field of vision. Even his parents knew that something was bothering him, but they were quiet about it. He was a good pup, never in any serious trouble, and he knew that he could talk to them if he wanted to. Perhaps it was a sort of summer romance, he heard them whispering just last night. Optimistic, his parents were...

He knew Lygon Street well enough, and he knew the entrance to the café, although he'd not been inside before. It seemed a bit pricey for an otter of modest means, and although he doubted that anyone there would correct him for using the wrong fork or something, he wasn't at all sure that he would fit into the atmosphere of such an establishment. It wasn't about putting on airs, it was just...

It was just an excuse.

The otter sighed, and not for the first time. He was past trying to understand it, but that didn't stop him from dithering over it. Besides, if it really was a choice, then he didn't have to go in, did he? He didn't_have_ to do anything. That's what choice was about, right?

A glance to one side of his bus-stop bench showed him the evidence of those who appeared to have made some bad choices. A look at the newspaper headlines told him all he needed to know about a world that had made bad choices. He wasn't sure that he hadn't already made bad choices - four of them, to be exact. Involuntarily, he closed his eyes, and when that didn't stop the images, he put a forepaw to his forehead, and that only made the images turn inward, and he whimpered softly. It was going to be noon before long. How long does "brunch" last? Was he already too late... in every respect?

Without being fully of his own free will (or so it seemed), Javier jumped up and crossed the street. He looked himself over in the glass - modest chinos and polo-style shirt, clean, reasonably respectable, and who wore a tuxedo to brunch, even if he'd had one? It would have to do. He just hoped that there wasn't some maitre d' who would be expecting a tip.

Entering the café, his first impression was a bit of curiosity about why he'd thought that it would be a suit-and-tie sort of place after all. The atmosphere was upscale but not snooty. The speakers flowed softly with what could be called light jazz, and both customers and waitstaff were dressed much as he was. No maitre d', but there was a host station, and the young female feline exuded welcome along with a pleasant greeting that Javier almost didn't catch.

"Good morning, and welcome to Café Truffe! I'm Lourie. We have a short waiting list, perhaps ten minutes; a table for one, or are you expecting someone to join you?"

Blinking, the otter suddenly realized that it was his turn to speak. He reached into his pants pocket and brought out the card, reading the name on it. "Do you know if a Mister..."

The feline's ears moved forward, her eyes brightening a little. "Mr. Goldsmith, perhaps?"

Javier nodded slightly, managed to find his voice again. "He must come here often."

"Usually for brunch," the lady cat nodded, her tail making pleased little twitches. The gentlefur was a well-liked regular, it would seem. "He said that he might be expecting someone today. Please, come this way."

Grabbing up a menu, she spun neatly and moved through the pleasantly crowded bistro to a set of booths at the back. In one, a lone customer was enjoying quite the small feast. He looked up as the hostess approached, set down his fork, wiped his muzzle delicately with the cloth napkin, and stood, extending a nod to the hostess and a forepaw to the otter.

"Thank you, Lourie. I think this may be who I was expecting. Allow me to introduce myself: Rigoberto Goldsmith, at your service. Your name, please, young fur?"

The tall, well-made black panther was not quite thirty years old, at a guess, and he carried himself with a certain unmistakable grace. He was as casually dressed as the rest of the clientele, but Javier had the impression of elegance, perhaps because of his species mythos, but more likely because the fur was utterly at ease and completely sure of himself. He was so completely_there_ somehow, which was silly to Javier, because how could he_not_ be there, how could anything real not be there...

"Javier Barbosa." The otter put out his webbed paw, taking the panther's firmly but not too aggressively. He was given a similar consideration in return.

"How interesting," Goldsmith fairly purred. "Your first name... it means 'light,' does it not?"

Your destiny is in your name...

"Yes, sir, or 'bright,' perhaps." The otter risked a smile. "I'm not sure that it applies."

"I'd wager that it does." The panther released Javier's forepaw, waved his own toward the table. "Sit down, please, do sit down. May I offer some brunch?"

The pup was seating himself on the bench opposite the panther, about to decline, when his stomach spoke for itself. His ears burned, and he could feel the embarrassment on his cheeks, but the feline took it in stride.

"I'll take that as a yes. Order whatever you wish. I can recommend the Eggs Benedict, if you so desire, or - and please forgive me if I'm stereotyping - they make excellent grilled fish here."

The embarrassment turned to a flash of anger, which the young otter quickly quelled. He had no idea why he was here, and there was no need for bad manners at this point. He tried very hard to believe the panther's words, that no offense was intended. After all, sheer biology limited some appetites. "Thank you, sir," he said, with a touch of formality. "Your meal looks quite good. Might I have the same, please?"

"Excellent choice," the panther grinned, his whiskers turning up, his ears forward and alert. He gave a soft nod to the hostess. "Same again, please, Lourie, and perhaps Antonia might bring a bit more coffee the next time she passes by?"

"Of course, Mr. Goldsmith." The lady cat smiled, bowed briefly to each of her customers, and left them alone. That, by itself, made Javier nervous.

"I suspect that you have many questions." The elder feline's smile seemed to acknowledge that he was stating the obvious. "I have one I must ask first. How did you come to find me?"

It was only then that Javier realized that he still held the crisp new card in his left forepaw. He handed it over to the panther, whose smile softened into something like humor and recognition. "Even spelled my name correctly," he chuckled to himself. "I wasn't at all sure how you'd find me, but I could guess."

"Sir... who are you?"

Lamplike yellow eyes regarded the pup gently, almost tenderly. "I believe that I am to be your future, young Master Barbosa."

"I'm not gay," the otter blurted suddenly.

"That makes two of us," the cat replied softly, setting the card on the table near his side. "And I suspect that my good lady mate might object to my experimenting in that arena. Not unless she were allowed to watch."

Javier gulped.

Goldsmith laughed out loud, a round, rolling sound that, despite the otter's nervousness, felt good. "Forgive my joke, pup. It's only that I said almost exactly the same thing to a certain gentlefur some ten years ago. I assure you, there's nothing sexual, immoral, or unlawful about our meeting. As I say, I can explain, but may I ask you for one more bit of identification?"

For just a moment, the otter thought that the cat wanted to see his license.

"Me first." The panther reached inside his shirt and pulled out a long neck chain, from which depended a golden disc. It spun slightly at the end of the chain, glinting, winking, the light reflecting into all of Javier's eyes as he stared, rapt, mesmerized. A webbed forepaw dipped into his pocket and brought forth the thick coin that the Radiant Lion had given to him. He showed both sides of the coin, the Lion's head on one, the other flat and smooth. The panther did not take it; instead, he only gazed upon it for several moments, recognizing, remembering, reliving, and then returned his own talisman to the inside of his shirt. "Keep that," he said, his voice more a caress than a statement. "Just put it into your pocket, and don't worry - you'll never lose it. Until it's time."

"Time?" The younger male felt himself quivering. "Time for what? What is this?"

"It's a choice," the panther alluded, "but just as you must choose, so have you been chosen." The smile returned, reflecting in the brilliant yellow eyes as well as playing across the muzzle. "That's exactly what was told to me, and now I say it to you. And I'll tell you a little story.

"Once upon a time (as all good tales begin), there was a young black panther who was thinking of ending his own life. His story, you see, was more melodramatic than others, but that wasn't really the point of the story. The simple fact was that he felt that he had nothing left - no direction, no chance... no self."

Javier wondered if the panther saw something in his eyes or face, because he smiled. "As I say, it's more melodramatic than most. But as a wise fabulist once taught us, not all who wander are lost. Where did you find the Lion, pup?"

"Arcade. Boardwalk." The otter had no clue what was happening, but he felt as if he were back there, consulting some sort of oracle for a future that he could not believe he actually could have. He'd thrown it away. He knew that; he just wasn't facing up to it.

"I was in a back alley that no longer exists; the buildings were condemned, and I thought that I was, too, so I went there, wondering if I'd ever leave it." Clouds passed over the suns that were the panther's eyes. "I had discarded my choices, lost my hopes of ever finding myself. But I found the Lion. Or perhaps he found me."

The feline paused as a bright young meerkat padded quickly to the table proffering plates across one arm and a coffeepot in the other forepaw. Without hesitating, the panther helped to take the plates away, placing them before Javier with a gentle flourish. "Thank you, Antonia, most grateful." The meerkat smiled happily as she refilled the coffee cup and, assured that nothing further was needed at the moment, she went back into the quiet fray of the café.

"I probably don't need to describe the Lion to you." The panther nodded slightly as Javier tucked into his meal. He had been right - it was delicious. "My message was only slightly different from yours; it was to meet in a different eating establishment, and for dinner on a Friday evening. I didn't think I would even be let through the doors; I'd been living rough, and I was sure that I stank to high heaven. I was very nearly right, as it was only when I showed the card and the coin to the maitre d' that he let me in - through the back doors, I might add. He suggested that I clean up a little in the males' room; he brought a fresh shirt from the kitchen - a button-down with the restaurant's name embroidered over the left breast pocket, and still in its laundered and starched glory. It was a little large on me, but I'm slim to begin with, and I'd not eaten well in some time. In any event, I made a sketchy toilet, the maitre d' declared me fit to be seen, and he then took me to meet my benefactor. Just as you're meeting me now."

The otter paused. "Benefactor?"

"Would you indulge me just a little, Master Barbosa?"

"Sir," the younger fur remembered something his mother had taught him about manners. "Please call me Javier."

"My friends call me Bertie, and that includes those who tell me their life stories in five thousand words or less."

Javier had to laugh. "I don't think I've got that many words in my whole vocabulary!" He felt the blush rise in him again as he asked, "What do you want to know?"

"I want to know a bit about you, if I may." The panther sipped his coffee, looking at the otter over the rim of the mug. "I want to know your whole history, one day, if you're willing to share it. But I'm going to follow my benefactor's pattern; it worked last time, and the time before that, and so on. I'd like to ask three questions, and they're linked, so I'll ask all at once and let you talk between bites. They're a bit strange, so take all the time you need to consider them. First: What have you done lately that you feel have been mistakes? Second, what, exactly, did the Lion do and say to you? And third - and this is the strangest, or at least it will seem so - are you the Choice or the Chosen?"

The young mustelid stared wide-eyed for a long moment, the fork halfway to his muzzle, and damn him if the panther didn't grin like he had an Uncle Cheshie.

"Eat for a bit. Think about the first question and just eat for a bit. I know this is terrible, in some ways, but trust me. At the worst, you've gotten a great brunch out of the deal. Take your time, Javier. Think about what you've done lately that you feel have been mistakes."

"What about you?"

"I must insist that you go first, but I swear to you that I'll tell my tale. You already know my biggest mistake. I'm only lucky that I didn't actually make it."

He swallowed. "Suicide."

"Yes."

"Why didn't you?"

Again, his lips and whiskers turned upward as if he were about to fade slowly away, leaving only his smile behind. "You first. And I will tell all that you need to know."

Somehow, Javier doubted that, but he took the time to polish off the eggs and French toast (made, he realized, with bread that had bits of blueberry and raspberry in it, and topped with what had to be the finest amber, 100% maple syrup available to lifekind). He didn't need to think long about his mistakes. He knew exactly what they were. When he finished, he sat back the booth and regarded the panther with a strange sense of calm.

"I made four mistakes. Four athletic scholarships. I turned them all down."

"Do you not want to go to college?"

"No; I really want to go to college, but not to be part of some university swim team."

"Why is that?"

Javier was already bristling, expecting the comments that he'd gotten from everyone he talked to about his decision:You're an otter, you must love swimming! Water is your element; they're willing to give you an education in return for doing something as easy for you as breathing!

"I don't need to learn how to swim. I already know that. I want to go to college to be a chemical engineer, not to shore up some lame collegiate swim team that expects an otter to turn their luck around."

"Did you swim for the high school team?"

"No."

"Then how were you scouted?"

"I wasn't," the otter spat. "I wasn't scouted, I was_profiled._ Otter equals swimmer equals he'll jump through any hoop we want because he must love to swim." He felt ashamed of his outburst, looked down for a moment, was just on the edge of apologizing, decided against it. He looked up at his host. "I don't want to do what everyone expects me to do. I want to do what I want. I want to be me."

To Javier's surprise, the panther's response was to nod slowly. "You felt that a swim team athletic scholarship was a sell-out. But you think now it's an error of pride. You think you won't ever get to college now."

"I can take basics at the junior college." It was the speech he'd rehearsed for his parents. "Those will transfer anywhere, and they'll be the same as any other college. I can work, get credits, save up until I can go to university, to a good program."

"You have no need to convince me, Javier. I agree with you. And as I promised, I'll tell you one thing more about my nearest-mistake. At our meeting on that Friday night, perhaps a decade ago, I sat across from the well-dressed wolf, who was about as old then as I am now, and I was about your age, and I told him the rest of my mistake. I told him that it was a mistake that I didn't kill myself, because no one wanted me, or my brains, or my talent. Forgive the immodesty, but they wanted my body. I was groomed from a young age to walk a runway. Exotic felines get all the perks, and they get all the offers." The panther was silent for a moment. "I sold myself to strangers, and more than once. At first, I sold my innocence to magazine and catalog photographs. Later, I found that some of the 'agents' wanted more of me. I was taught things no child should learn prematurely, and one of those things was that my body was my commodity, and nothing else."

Javier was shocked, sickened not by the panther but by what was done to him. "Didn't you tell your mother?"

"Of course. She was sure that I was exaggerating." The word dripped with sarcastic quotation marks. "All part of the business, you see, all part of how I was to get ahead in the world. And she would know, as it was she who cashed my paychecks, fed me but little and drank away the rest. Until I was old enough to become my own manager, so to speak. My connections - none of the lawful ones - got me started quickly as my adolescent changes set in. After all, I was handsome, endowed, and learned quickly how to lie about my age... at first, claiming to be of legal age when I wasn't, then pretending to be younger when I was of legal age. And I saw my share of abuse, of crime, of the darkest of world, first from my mother's sickness of trying to live her life through me, and then through my own troubles of having to exist on the streets, to survive any way that I could... until I couldn't anymore. And I wanted to die, because that's what I thought was the way out."

The otter swallowed hard. He had his fears, but nothing like this. His only mistake, his only problem, was that he knew how difficult he was making his life... but it was his life to make, or to destroy...

The panther was calm as he told the tale, as if it were about someone else entirely. "Second question: What did the Lion do and say to you?"

"It was a carny machine, like a lot of others."

"I doubt that."

Javier felt himself trembling, but the panther held his eyes, looking deep, like the Lion had done... looking deep into his eyes when he reached up a paw and...

"It was all a trick."

"Pretty good one, to do without electricity, don't you think?" Again, that small smile crept upon the panther's muzzle. "I was in a condemned building that hadn't had power in a year or more. And I know the boardwalk hasn't been active in some time. Not to mention the card and coin. So I ask again: What did the Lion do and say to you?"

Almost without a pause, the otter told everything, every moment, as vividly as he could. He relived the discovery of the Lion, of the ordinary recordings used in so many fortune telling machines back to the first in 1904, and then the words that spoke to him, to him directly, and the touch of the Lion's paw, and the soaring of his heart, and the breath of the kiss against his forehead.

"The choice is yours. But you are needed," Javier repeated, as if in a trance, eyes closed, experiencing, sensing, feeling the intangible."The future is a choice. The future is a choice. It needs you to choose as much as you are chosen. Take your future, Javier."

"The Lion called you by name."

"Yes." The otter breathed more than said the word. "Yes."

"He called me as well."

"Yes."

"That's why you knew it was no trick."

"Yes..."

"Kissed by the Radiant Lion."

Javier opened his eyes slowly. The panther's face had not changed, the smile still on his muzzle, yet it was familiar now. Was he the Lion? No. The otter was certain of that. The Lion was himself. Yet there was something that he knew, something he would say without knowing he'd said it.

"What is your gift?"

"I didn't know, really." The feline's eyes closed very slightly. "I thought I didn't. You see, even though my mother put me through hours and hours of rehearsing, every week, every month, every year, the one thing that I knew I was good at - apart from just being pretty for someone to gawk at - was math. Give me a pair of three-digit numbers."

"Okay... 497 and 255."

"Multiplied, that's 126,735," he said, with barely a pause to think. "The square root of that is just shy of 356. Would you like to try another?"

"I'll take your word for it."

"I still had to get a GED, because even though I'm that fast with numbers, I needed to learn the theory that went with it. But that was what my benefactor did for me. And he did it for me because the Lion had said to me,See past the numbers to see what they see in you." The panther smiled softly. "What I had to do was to learn how to see what the numbers really meant, you see? Possibly not, but only because I'm still being abstruse." Goldsmith chuckled. "I had to learn a lot of vocabulary for that GED, and I'll be damned if that word wasn't on there."

"How did you do all that?"

"I was cleaned up and put into an apartment with two other furs who were already in their first year of college; I studied hard, got the GED, then I was put into university. Full ride, as they call it. Graduated fast track five years ago, and I was given the job that I had trained for: Artificial Intelligence Development."

Javier felt his eyebrows come together. "What's that got to do with math?"

"In one way, nothing; in another, everything. My peculiar knack for math is a sort of brain-glitch, in real life. So my job became to analyze how I could make that leap from Point A to Point D without stopping in between. I had to see past the numbers; I had to see not the numbers but how I saw past them. How I think. The actual process of thinking, of insight - the leap from delta to delta-star, as the mathematicians describe it. That's what AI studies, and what it develops." The knowing smile returned. "I'm working on a process that will automate public transport vehicles in such a way that they can anticipate traffic patterns for a radius of up to five city blocks, then work out ways to interface spontaneously with the central traffic control computers to resolve blockages."

The otter produced a low whistle. "I'm enough of a sci-fi nerd to appreciate that." He paused for a bit, finally voicing his fears. "What does all this have to do with you?"

"No idea," the panther grinned again. "I just know that I'm supposed to help you. And I can. I knew that it was time for someone new when the coin disappeared..." He patted his chest gently. "...and this took its place. You see, I've never been without that coin. I was even mugged once, about six years ago; the street rats took everything, even my winter jacket, and everything in my pockets, including the coin. When I got back to the apartment, the coin was there on my dresser. I was never without it, for all this past decade... until one morning this past week, I found this talisman in its place. It's what binds us - me to my benefactor, his to his own, and on up the line. I don't know the whole history, Javier; I only know that it has been going on for decades. I think you might be the tenth of the line, maybe even twelfth, but that's only in my lineage. There are others. I don't know how many; I only know that the Radiant Lion has made this all possible."

The young mustelid still could not grasp all that was happening. He felt the coin in his pocket, a small weight, a warmth that was felt more in his heart than pressed against his fur through the cloth. "I still don't understand."

Pulling a pen from his pocket, Goldsmith reached for the card and signed his name to the bottom of it. He then pulled an envelope from his shirt pocket and passed all three to the otter. "Please write your name and address on the back of the card. Don't show it to me; I don't need to know, at least not now. Just put it into the envelope, seal it, and mail it. There's already a stamp on it. I think there's even a drop box just outside the café."

Javier looked at the envelope, seeing that it was a pre-printed return envelope for the law firm of Chamberlain, Mason, and Spence. "What...?"

"Mr. Chamberlain is my attorney. If you'll accept it, Javier, he will send information to you regarding the next steps for your scholarship. In fact, just below your name and address, write down 'Chemical Engineering.' They'll find the best programs available; you just tell them which one you want to attend. They'll send forms for you to sign that will allow them to get your high school transcripts and act on your behalf to apply. I'll wager that you'll get several offers. You choose which one, where you want to go, and your tuition, fees, books, expenses, and a stipend for personal use will all be paid for. Full ride."

"That's crazy." The otter felt more nervous than before, his tail tapping out a warning and signal of danger on the seat beside him. It embarrassed him, because it was loud, but he couldn't stop himself. "Why would you do that?"

"Paying it forward, as they say. It's what my benefactor did for me. He became well-off, enough to sponsor the next person in the chain of successors - me. I've achieved that now. I'm not rich, but I can do this, quite comfortably. And I know that you're the right one to pay it forward with."

"You keep saying 'your benefactor.' Why don't you say his name?"

"It's a vanity among us." The panther's smile showed satisfaction, a bit of self-deprecation, and a touch of special secrecy. "We somewhat jokingly call ourselves the Order of the Radiant Lion, but there's a certain truth, and a certain pride in it. We have an annual dinner, where we talk about our successes, enjoy each other's company, and raise a glass in salute of a force far greater than ourselves. There is a name or two on that roster that most people might recognize, so if and until you decide to accept, we keep ourselves to ourselves."

"What am I supposed to do to earn all this?"

"Become who you are."

Javier felt his eyes go half-lidded with the skill of sarcastic rebuke that only a late adolescent can produce. "You're kidding."

The lamplike eyes, soft but commanding, held the otter in place. "No."

"The world doesn't work that way. Nobody just gives something for nothing."

"Are you nothing?"

The otter stiffened, the fur on his back bristling, his tail making an angry thump against the booth that caused a few heads to turn.

"I'd say that means 'no.' In which case I'm not giving something for nothing."

"But what do you get out of it?"

"For one thing, no one has to get something in order to give something. They have to have it to give it, not expect payment. That's the old thinking, Javier. It is the devil that has been scorching the planet of the greedy, the short-sighted, and those who crave empty power above the fullness of what the world can be."

The panther breathed slowly for several seconds, composing himself. The otter could feel the blistering impact of the felines words, not aimed at him but at the old patterns that he had every right to feel so vehemently about.

"Besides," Goldsmith said softly. "I've already gotten something. I got my chance, and I took it. That's what the Radiant Lion is for. The history goes back further than we can be sure, but somehow, someone is found, or perhaps I should say some two are found - one who can give, and one who can take." The panther sighed, not with tiredness or resignation, but ultimately with satisfaction. "It's my turn to give now. And I want to. And the Lion showed me who deserves to be next. And I'm still young; I may get to do it again one day."

"How would you know?"

He patted his chest again. "I'll be told."

Javier could make no sense of this. To go to college on his own terms, to learn what he wanted to learn, to become who he wanted to be... his dream. His deepest dream. A dream that he had held in a place so deep within himself that he couldn't believe that even he could find it. So deep that no one...

...or someone...

"There's still the third question, my young friend," the panther purred softly.

The young otter simply looked at him.

"Are you the Choice, or are you the Chosen?"

Javier felt an answer tugging at him. It wasn't clear yet. He took the coin out of his pocked at held it in his webbed forepaw. He felt more than saw the glow that it contained. The face of the Lion, embossed upon the face of the coin, gazed back at him, assured, assuring. He turned the coin over to see that the back was still blank and smooth. Not knowing why, the otter pressed the blank side of the coin to his forehead and, risking offending his host, he closed his eyes and dreamed.

In the nineteenth century, it was said that a German scientist named August Kekulé had a light doze while riding on an omnibus, and in his daydream, he had an insight into the structure of the benzene ring, like that of a snake eating its own tail. Thompson and Rutherford conceived of atoms as being like planets with circling electrons. Dreams, from which solutions were found, from which all knowledge was given from something beyond. And the otter's own dreams of something, some connection that he didn't yet understand, that would transmute poison into something harmless, render harmful chemicals into useful ones...

He took the coin from his forehead and opened his eyes. There on the formerly flat surface was the embossed shape of the ouroboros.

"For me, it was a face, like an old robotic head from drawings of a century ago. I didn't understand for a long time."

"The snake eating its tail," the otter murmured softly. "The benzene ring."

"Chemical Engineering, I think you said?" Goldsmith smiled softly, already knowing the answer to his question. "Javier Barbosa... are you the Choice, or are you the Chosen?"

First writing some information onto the back of the card, Javier put it into the envelope and licked it sealed. He set it on the table where he would easily remember it, then turned back to smile at the panther.

"Bertie Goldsmith... I am both."