by Adam Browne
Lorna looked suddenly wistful. “You know, back home on the ranch, Mama always told me never to go into the woods nearby on account of the net-casting spiders there.”
Uther foolishly probed, “Net-casting spiders?”
“Uh huh. One fine summer’s evening, Mama was playing with friends in those woods when a giant creature swept down from the trees and snatched one of the them away.” Lorna spread her fists apart to illustrate, “Mama said it was a spider that held a web between its front legs, like a net. It scooped her friend up into the treetops. The whole town went a-hunting, but all they ever found was a dried husk of bone and fur-”
“Ulf fangs, wolfess!” Uther yelped, wheeling away in disgust. “What’re you trying to do to me?”
“To make you feel better!” Lorna shrugged. “It’s perfectly natural to fear bugs that can eat you.”
“Is it, Lorna? Is it really? No schmutz!”
“Well, what about sewer centipedes? You afraid of them too?”
“Don’t be daft, it’s just spiders,” Uther assured. “It’s the way they move. And their web makes my fur crawl. Yeeuch!”
Linus and Rosalina sedately emerged from the doorway, chatting merrily away like old friends.
“Well actually a spider’s bite only paralyses you,” Linus was saying. “You can’t move, but you’re still alive; that way it can store you in its web and keep you fresh. It’s only when it comes to eat you that it injects you with an enzyme that liquefies your flesh and-”
“Linus!” Uther squeaked, paws cupped over his ears
Mills stopped dead, blinking his big blue eyes. “Yes?”
“Just… just shut up, all right? Stop showing off! Rosalina’s had her fill of bugs and all that science guff. First a lecture on Charlie thumping Cricket, now this.”
Rosalina waved a paw, “Oh no, it’s right interesting.”
“Yeah well, I’ve heard enough!” Uther insisted, storming to the roadside. “You’re such a know-it-all, Woodlouse!”
Lorna raised a paw at Linus and Rosalina, “Don’t ask.”
Smouldering alone by the kerb, Uther was wondering how best to row back from his regrettable outburst when he felt that weird tingle again. Looking left, he spied two wolfesses sitting on a bench, the same pink and green-clad pair from before the film. Had they been waiting outside this whole time?
Unable to stand by, Uther wandered over, ember glowing between his dark fingers. “You two all right there?” he enquired, his conversely white face pulling as friendly an expression as he could muster.
The tall brown wolfess looked the athletic Uther up and down, and smiled warmly at him; her little black friend pulled her pea-green coat tightly around her, suspicious of Uther’s intentions perhaps.
“We’re fine, thank ye,” the latter huffed coldly.
Uther beamed at the friendlier brown wolfess “Waiting for someone?”
“Aye,” the black one answered in her stead.
“For two hours?” the Howler said to them both. “You’ve been stood up.”
Glancing at her brown friend, the black wolfess gave Uther a narrow-eyed glare. “Look, we’re nae interested, all right?”
Uther reached into his pocket and held up his Howler brooch; the red-imperium Bloodfang crest glowed brightly at his behest, proving he was a true Howler with a corona. “I’m not a creep, love; I’m just doing me duty.”
“See? I told you, Sara,” the brown wolfess whispered to the black. “I can tell a mile away.”
The black wolfess remained unimpressed. “You’ve nae duty in the Common Ground, Howler. This place is run by ALPHA, nae the Bloodfangs,” she said officiously. “So if we want tae sit here fer two hours, we will. All right?”
Bold little lass, Uther thought.
The Howler pocketed his brooch. “Whatever you say,” he chuckled, pointing at the marquee above, “but there ain’t no more flicks showing.”
The black wolfess twisted round, read the sign, then stood up, paws in pockets. “No, Ah suppose not,” she sighed worriedly, talking more to herself than any other. “It’s nae like Bruno not tae show up. Something’s happened. Och, if only Ah had his new number!”
“Boyfriend, eh?” Uther guessed.
The brown wolfess stood up. “Yes,” she blurted.
“Olivia!” came the black.
Uther laughed, “Can’t decide between yer?”
“It’s a double-date,” the brown wolfess explained.
Uther just smiled and took a long, thoughtful drag on his dying ember. “Where’d you girls live?”
They exchanged looks. The brown went to speak, but the black elbowed her into silence.
Uther nodded slowly. “Look, just be careful. Stick to the main streets as far as you can-”
“We can manage, thank ye!” the black wolfess declared haughtily, brushing Uther by. The brown wolfess mumbled her thanks and together the girls trotted briskly into the busy nightlife of the Common Ground. Uther watched and waited until the brown lass gave him the satisfaction of one last glance over her shoulder.
“Still got it, Wild-heart,” Uther cackled.
Linus approached, looked in the direction Uther was, then said, “Who’re they?”
“I dunno,” Uther said, adding, “Cute though.”
Clearing his throat, Linus waited a moment. “Want to talk about something?” he asked, “Get it off your chest?”
“Don’t be thumping stupid, Linus.”
“No. Sorry.”
An awkward pause.
“We’d best get back to The Beehive,” Linus suggested, hiking a thumb. “Monty and Penny will be waiting.”
Uther clapped and rubbed his paws, “Oh yeah, our free meal!”
“Well I-I’m not sure we can expect them to pay for Lorna and Rosalina too.”
Uther grunted, as if expecting otherwise. With a glance over at the girls, waiting under the theatre marquee, Uther slapped his partner on the chest with back of his paw and asked, “Well, whatcha think of Rosalina then?”
Linus rubbed his neck, “Oh. Well, she’s… uhm-”
“Hot stuff, eh?”
“Oh yes, absolutely. Of course!”
Chuckling, Uther flicked his spent ember away and slung a heavy, sinew-streaked arm around Linus, saying, “Steady, mate. We’re gentlebeasts, remember?” He shouted and beckoned to Lorna and Rosalina, “Oi, come on you two! Grubs up!”
Linus could but roll his eyes at Uther the ‘gentlebeast’.
Lorna and Rosalina glided and waddled respectively over to the boys.
“Now then girls, we’re off to meet with royalty,” Uther let it be known, wagging a stern finger. “If you want to tag along you’d best behave yourselves.
“Eh?” Rosalina squeaked, holding onto her hat. “Whatcha mean royalty?”
“Royalty! Like what they have in all them backward lands that wolfkind don’t run. You know, kings ‘n’ queens ‘n’ that. Right Linus?”
“Well, perhaps not quite that royal,” Linus guffawed.
“Well how royal we talking?” Uther snorted impatiently.
“Penelope Buttle is the Queen’s cousin, a Duchess. I’m not sure if Monty’s strictly royal at all, Vladimir didn’t say.”
Whilst the Howlers discussed their cat cousins, the girls fussed with their hats and dresses.
“Ulf’s fangs, Lorna! If I’d only known I’d have worn me best outfit, not this tatty old rag.”
“Rosa, have I got anything stuck round back, honey? Those cinema seats are filthy.”
“No, you’re all right, luv. Here, what about me?”
“You’ve got a dead cricket stuck to your behind. Hold on.”
With much patting, brushing and bother, Lorna and Rosalina rendered themselves presentable again, not that Uther or Linus perceived any change. It was fair to say the boys themselves were hardly dressed for the occasion, but then a Howler’s idea of formal dress was mantle, tunic, brooch and gaiters, often with armour and sometimes weapons. Par
ades, memorials, funerals, even weddings; the ignominy of the Howler getup in Lupa’s wider society was lost on the wolf packs themselves, where it was a thing to be respected and worn with pride.
“How do we look, lads?” Rosa queried.
“Beautiful,” Uther sniffed, leading the way. “Come on.”
Braving the Common Ground, dodging cars and trams, Linus and Uther explained to the curious girls how they came to be meeting with Felician royals. And not just royals but, according to the newsreels, pilots too! Nor merely pilots of some old boat, but newfangled airship pilots! Flight had been but a fantasy up until a decade ago, and in common public parlance the word pilot still meant first and foremost a ship’s guide into port rather than someone who took to the air.
“Oi, maybe they’ll fly here!” Uther cackled, puffing clouds of ember vapour as he sauntered confidently along and made engine sounds. “Brrrrrrrrrbbbbbbp!”
“And take us for a ride!” Lorna swooned, hanging on his arm. “Oh, that’d really be somethin’, wouldn’t it?”
“Puh! Yeah.”
“Oh, no!” Rosa squawked, paws to face. “I couldn’t even look at them pictures let alone do the real thing.”
Whilst the others chatted, Linus cast an eye to the stars and pondered the possibilities.
Rounding an alleyway into a main street, Uther’s little posse arrived back at The Beehive Saloon. The building was shaped vaguely like the eponymous structure, with each floor stepping inwards somewhat from the one below, and pocked with golden hexagonal lead-lattice windows, like so many honeycombs. Patrons filed in and out the similarly hexagon-panelled doors, passing the formidable bear bouncers, or not if they didn’t look respectable.
“Can’t see ‘em,” Uther grumbled, eyes casting about.
“Maybe they’re inside already?” Linus theorised, heading for the doors.
Before they made The Beehive, a familiar sporty red car rolled up on the opposite side of the street and birthed a couple of beautifully dressed cats, a ginger fellow in an elegant white coat and goggles, and grey catess in a frilly pink dress and wide brimmed floral hat – Monty and Penny and no mistake.
“Hahaaah!” laughed Monty. “There they are, Sweetpea!”
Penny waved daintily over the car roof and cooed, “Linuuus!”
Linus bashfully raised a paw to the cats as they crossed the road to the saloon side of the street, Penny’s right arm looped through Monty’s left. When only halfway, Monty extended a paw and homed in on Linus like a mosquito.
“I say, good to see you again, Linus!” he said, shaking the Howler’s blonde paw with gusto. “Or should I say, good to see you for the first time? Haha! You look jolly handsome without that helmet, sir.”
“Oh, well, uhm… thank you.”
“And you, sir, Uther is it?” Monty recalled, turning to the athletic wolf.
“‘Tis, mate, yeah.”
Upon that confirmation Monty pitched Uther’s paw all over the place, “Mate, he says. I like it! You look fit as a fiddle, my good wolf. Remarkable shape you’ve got there; must be a lot of jolly hard work, jolly hard.”
“Heh, well, I suppose it is.”
Monty went on, “I know it is, sir. Used to do a bit of running meself in me soldiering days. Four minute mile would you believe? Not a scratch on you Howler chaps though, of course.” He patted his stomach, “It’s all gone south now alas. Hahaaah!”
“Keep your voice down, Monty,” Penny hissed gently, brushing her raucous husband with a paw.
“Sorry, Sweetpea,” he excused, moving on, “So, who’re these fine wolfen ladies, your girlfriends?”
“Monty!” Penny seethed further.
“What?”
Linus cleared his throat, “Uhm, well-”
“This is me lovely Lorna,” Uther interrupted, throwing a muscled arm around Lorna and kissing her on the cheek, “and Rosalina there is Linus’s sweetheart,” he added mischievously, pushing Linus stumbling into Rosalina.
“There, you see!” Monty mewed. “Pleasure to meet you, ladies. You’ve got a couple of top-notch chaps there. Hold onto ‘em.”
Lorna tweaked Uther’s nose and winked at him.
Whilst Linus tugged anxiously at his collar, Rosalina curtsied to Monty, “Honour to meetcha, your highness.”
“I’m afraid, your aim’s a little off, my dear!” Montague chuckled, hiking a thumb at Penny. “She’s the one you’re after; the Duchess Penelope. I’m just the ignoble cad who made off with the Queen’s cousin. Not a drop of ink in me!”
“Oh! Forgive me, your majesty.”
Penny reached out and raised Rosalina up before she could bow again. “Never mind all that, my dear; you’re a Lupan citizen, not a Felician.” She looked to Uther and especially Linus, “Besides, it’s I who should be curtsying to these brave souls after they likely saved my life.”
Stepping forward, Linus had to speak up, “I-I-I should never have put you in harm’s way, marm.”
“Nonsense, sir,” Penny dismissed. “As I’ve said, we’re glad to have helped.”
“That dashed hyena, clobbering me out of left field, it’s just not on!” Monty said, shaking a fiery ginger fist. “Pity about the other chap, Ivan is it? Penny said he wouldn’t be here. No show, just like our investors.”
“Yes, marm, didn’t you say there’d be beasts with you?” Linus queried Penny.
“They backed out, I’m afraid,” she grimaced.
“Something spooked ‘em,” Monty scoffed, feline eyes wide a moment.
“Spooked, sir?”
“Not all plain sailing this dirigible lark, Linus, there’s risk involved and beasts won’t back a loser.”
Penny flapped a paw, “Forget them, we’re here to honour Linus and Uther for their good works.” The Duchess led the way, passing between the bear bouncers, both of whom gave the overdressed cats a second glance. “Come along everyone!”
Chapter 11
Grand Howler Vladimir Oromov entered the murky, windowless room and shut the hefty metal door behind him. The warm light from the imperium lamps overhead played on his polished eisenglanz helmet as he walked over to the metallic, bed-like machine in the midst of the room and looked down upon the hyena strapped to it, arms and legs outstretched.
“How are you, Noss?” Vladimir asked him.
Noss gulped and breathed deep. His nose was encrusted with blood and mucous, and his eyes were weepy.
“Been better, Oromov,” he cackled.
Vladimir suddenly pulled down an overhead lamp and shone it right in Noss’s face. The hyena turned his dark muzzle away and shut his purple eyes tight.
“Grraagh!”
“Aversion to light,” Vladimir diagnosed. “The rot is bad with you today, my ‘Prince’.”
The bound Noss spat, “After... a racking? Who would have thought?”
Vladimir watched the hyena’s mighty spotty arms twist and tense in a vain attempt to break the metallic clasps and, no doubt, strike his tormentor down. Even were he not restrained, Noss would be unable to do any such thing – Vladimir knew from personal experience that a beast didn’t just get up and walk away after a stint on the imperium rack; they hobbled.
“You know, I was racked once,” the Howler said, almost wistfully. “It was a long time ago now; I was only a cub really, fresh out of the academy. I was accused of misappropriating venom and found guilty. The Elders were lenient and gave me the rack instead of death.” Vladimir took a sharp breath. “One never forgets the feeling of burning from the inside out as too much plasma flows through your body,” he sighed, adding, “So you see, Noss, I never ask my Howlers to do something I couldn’t do, not even treacherous ones like yourself. I’ve been there.”
No reply.
With a ‘humph’ Vladimir pushed away the lamp.
The Grand Howler turned to the smoky-grey cat in a laboratory coat standing by a complex panel of dials, buttons and levers wired up to the rack.
“Get him up, Josef.”
; The grey cat adjusted his tinted spectacles and nodded once. He pressed a button and pulled a lever, keeping one gloved paw in his coat pocket the whole time.
The rack shuddered and slowly rotated, with Noss remaining firmly strapped to it. When it was almost vertical, with the crucified hyena all but hanging by his arms, Josef released the lever and the rack stopped with a jolt.
Vladimir wafted some papers in front of Noss’s snout. “Your death certificate; heart failure from imperium shock, signed and dated by our coroner Doctor Josef Grau there. You’re dead and nobody is going to know anything different, except us.”
“You’re… to kill me then?” Noss gruffed. “Thank the Wind! Hahahahaaa!”
“On the contrary I’m preserving your life,” Vladimir revealed soberly. “I’m sending you somewhere safe, Noss, to a special penal colony for errant Howlers and other imperium-abusers on the far reaches of civilisation. Perhaps you know of it?”
“Gelb?” Noss guessed, big nostrils flaring.
A nod. “Plenty of hyenas there; you’ll blend in nicely. You’ll crawl on your belly through Mother Erde, as you call her, digging up imperium ore until such time as I call upon you.”
“Hahahahaaaaheheheee!” Noss laughed, “What… w-www-what makes you think… I’ll agree to performing such desecration?”
Vladimir said simply, “Arjana.”
Noss’s defiant laughter died.
“Provided you behave, Arjana and the cubs will be kept safe in one of those re-education towns. I’ve never been to one personally, but they look charming enough. Perhaps you’ve seen them on the newsreels? Your cubs will be moulded into perfect citizens, counting to ten in Lupan and everything-”
“Arjana will never accept it!” Noss snarled. “Never!”
“She must. They take cubs away from unruly mothers, I hear. You too must behave in Gelb, and be silent. Understand?”
Noss grimaced. His mighty chest and shoulders started to shake and a tear streaked down his gory cheek.
Vladimir snorted in disgust, “Crying, Noss? Did you shed a tear for Rufus when you agreed to blow him up for a fist full of lupas? You truly are despicable. Almost as despicable as those who put you up to it.”
With a gulp, Noss managed to croak, “Throw the s-switch and kill me Vladimir. End my shame... my madness... I beg you.”
