This story is the first of the requests done for furs who responded to my "
Want to become your fursona?" thread. Not all of them will be set in my
Soulgate universe, but this one was, because I had an idea I liked. ^.^
Congratulations
Edward Vulpes! And I'm still taking requests, so if anyone else is interested,
click here!
CRANE BIOLOGIC LABORATORIES – ARDELION EAST
Security camera #2418-B
Archival footage date index 972.01.18
Time index 2102 hours* * *
A receptionist is sitting at what looks like a large front desk. A computer monitor beside her is running a scrolling text screensaver, and a magazine is open across the keyboard. She sips something from a styrofoam cup, then sets it down next to a fast food wrapper and returns to her phone conversation.“Oh, really?”
“No way.”
“Uh-huh. Yeah, I'll bet.”
“What? Oh, it's not that bad ... not that bad, really.”
*laughter* “No, I'm serious! It's just a job, that's all it is.”
“No.”
“No, I'm telling you.” *laughter* “All it is is these scientist types, and they are bor-ring, with a capital 'bor.' I can't get away with a single joke, 'cause it's like it goes right over their heads. They just give me this look, not like 'Why are you wasting my time?' but more like 'What's that got to do with anything?' I bet if I flirted with one of them they'd have no idea what I was doing.”
“Well, the guy in charge was actually kind of handsome at one point. He used to have long, blonde hair, before his Class 3 made it all fall out, and-”
*laughter* “It's not funny! No, really, it isn't. He's not just some
guy to laugh at, he's ... well, you saw him on TV, right?”
“
Twenty-Four Seven. Remember? It was a few years back. You were telling me about this guy with Class 3 Stigma who was actually going to college, and they were doing this thing on the news show about him, and-”
“Yeah! Yeah, Edward Vulpes –
Doctor Vulpes now. Yeah, he was, wasn't he?”
“Oh, but you didn't see how he turned out.”
“I know. I'm not
talking about his Stigma. I'm talking about his
graduation. They had, like, a Cantor and everything up there, all talking about The Triumph Of The Human Will, and Ordo Ex Chaos and Blah Blah Blah, and then he got up there and dissed them.”
“No, I mean he dissed everyone. He dissed
humanity. He dissed
Order. He said, like ... oh, what was it he said? He said that the Stigma and the Birthing Crisis showed that we were all, like, doomed and such. That pretty soon it'd be nothing
but anthropomorphs being born, and we were just going to go extinct. And the strangest thing was, he seemed happy about it all. There he was, sitting in his wheelchair and just smiling at everyone, telling us that he'd hated his years at college and he hoped that we all died off soon.”
“Yeah, they must not have shown that part ... ”
“Oh? Well, I was, like,
there and all. So yeah, I saw what happened. They probably, like, stopped rolling the cameras or something.”
*long pause*
“He's not such a bad guy, once you get to know him ... ”
“No, he doesn't talk like that. He just comes in and he's like, 'Did any voice mail come in while I was gone?' or 'How come the cocoa machine's busted again?' Sometimes I deliver him a message or something, and-”
*long pause*
During this part of the transcript, camera #2418-B stopped transmitting video. The cause of the interference is unknown. #2418-B continued to record audio.“I don't
think so ... ”
*laughter* “Well, it's not like I can tell what they're working on. For all I know, they're up there trying to make beef taste like chicken.”
“Yeah, I know. Everything does, doesn't it.”
“Listen, I've got to put you on hold for one sec ... ”
The sounds of papers rustling, wrappers being wadded up and chairs being adjusted take up this part of the transcript. A male voice speaks during this time, but is rendered unintelligible by the noise.“Uh, no, Doctor Vulpes, one sec ... ” *more rustling* “No, you don't have any messages. Is something wrong? You sound kind of OHMY-”
The recording ends with the sound of a silenced handgun being discharged, followed by the sound of a body slumping into a chair. Analysis reveals barely-audible footsteps afterwards, heading away from the camera's microphone.* * *
Lightning flashed outside the penthouse office, and the wind turned the floor-to-ceiling windows to Doctor Vulpes' left into a wall of rain. To his right, the lights of Ardelion seemed dimmed, as gray clouds enveloped the skyline. The closer buildings were part of the Old City, as was this one; its gothic, cathedral ceiling, three stories tall, lent an air of drama to the bookshelves in back and the large wooden desk in front.
But not the person behind it. He was bald and frail-looking and wheelchair-bound. And factoring in his premature wrinkles, he only looked to be in his late teens or early twenties.
He looked calm, like he wasn't fazed by the appearance of an anthropomorphic red fox in his office. A tall, majestic one, Vulpes thought to himself, with sleek fur and fluffy tail and a lithe, catlike build. He felt so alive and confident, to the point where he couldn't help but strike poses when he thought that no one was watching. He also couldn't help but think that
he was Ardea's future, and this ... this thing in front of him was the past. Aged past its years, decrepit and nearly dead. Just like he'd used to be ...
... and he'd hated it then, too. He bore his teeth at this reflection of his past self, and remembered how delightfully fearsome he'd looked in the mirror. “Where's Mister Crane?” he snarled.
“My father is indisposed at the moment.” The boy wheeled his chair forward, and opened up a desk drawer to pull out a paper and show it to him. “You'll find that I've been given full Power of Attorney to act in his behalf.”
Vulpes considered the paper from about ten feet away. His glasses no longer fit him, and the words just looked like a blur. He decided not to argue the point. “And you are?”
“Matthew Crane, Vice President of Nanologic Research.”
“Daddy's little helper.” Vulpes bore his teeth in a grin.
To his credit, the young man across from him just set the paper aside and clasped his hands on top of the desk. If he was unnerved, he was doing a good job of not showing it.
“You know why I'm here, then?”
“Yes.” The boy raised his eyebrows at him. “Judging by your appearance, I gather your project was a success?”
“Oh, yes.”
“And it takes effect how quickly?”
“Under a minute.”
“I see.” The boy cracked his knuckles, slowly and deliberately. And Vulpes thought he could smell a hint of fear about him now, over the vents blowing warm machine air into the building. “But it doesn't work on everyone, does it. The receptionist, Miss ... ”
Doctor Vulpes waved it aside.
“Terminal Class 5, right out of nowhere.” Crane gave him an unreadable look. “You understand they'll think we're responsible.”
“We are.” His tail swished happily.
“That doesn't bother you?”
“Why should it? As you must have realized,
Vice President Crane, humanity's time on this world is nearly up.” Vulpes gestured expansively out the window. “Your laws, your institutions, all of it. You're dying off. What can a race as hobbled and decrepit as yourself possibly do to me?”
The elevator behind him opened, and he whirled around to see two men in black suitcoats and sunglasses, carrying a briefcase between them. For a moment Doctor Vulpes panicked; then, as he saw they were heading towards Crane's desk, he began to calm down again. He instinctively smoothed out the fur on his tail and the top of his head, as they opened the briefcase where the boy could see what was inside.
With his ears he could hear if they said anything, but they did not. The boy just nodded to them, then turned back to him. “I see. Well, Doctor Vulpes, let me be the first to thank you for helping ensure humanity's survival.”
It took him a second to process that. “Excuse me?”
“I personally had you assigned to that project ... ” He got something out of the suitcase. “ ... because I knew that your talents and inclinations would prove useful. And now, they aren't needed anymore.” He pointed a handgun at him. “Goodbye.”
Doctor Vulpes' reflexes were rusty from the years that he'd spent in a wheelchair, but the fox that he'd become knew how to escape. He leaped backwards and twisted around in midair, putting one arm out to vault over the chairs that faced the desk. Then he hit the floor running, and bolted for the elevator.
Matthew Crane was not a good shot, crippled as he was by Class 3 Stigma. But the round that he'd fired was geokinetic. It flew past Vulpes, in between him and the elevator, then circled around in midair and hit him in the chest. He was knocked backwards off his feet, and for a moment he thought he'd been blown apart. But he'd felt the bullet absorb into him, and now his chest was tingling and itching like fury.
He scratched at it, as hard as he could, as the tingling sensation spread. “What have you done?”
Crane did not answer immediately, but slowly wheeled his chair around the furniture and towards the prone fox. The men in black suitcoats flanked him. “Don't worry,
Doctor Vulpes, I'm not turning you back into a human. I'm only Erasing you, and replacing your memories.”
“
What?”
“I can't finish the War of Extinction when someone as formidable as yourself is on the enemy's side, now can I?”
Finish the War? How? How was being able to instantly turn humans into anthropomorphs going to help him at all? Vulpes latched onto the questions, begging his brain to answer them before it was washed clean. He was unable to move now, and clung for dear life to any sensation or thought that he could.
Lightning flashed again, and threw Crane's face into relief. It started to blur and dissolve into black, as the tingling reached Vulpes' head.
“Enjoy your new life in the Outlands, Doctor Vulpes. Enjoy it ... while you can.”
