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Aster

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A_ster is our nation's largest city, despite being located in a rocky desert filled with mesas and low-lying plains. The metropolis can be found in one of these plain-like areas, and though its surrounding geography is quite desolate, it is supplied by hundreds of smaller towns in a wide radius, bolstering its own economy while ensuring the growth of those less-populated working communities. From its humble beginnings as a small mining town just 150 years ago, Aster avoided the same fate as other now-ghost towns by becoming an economic powerhouse early on. Aster's first mayor Allen Doyle used the town's initial profits to improve infrastructure and work with other towns to ensure that his citizens and businesses would be tempted to remain even after the ore ran out. And though his plan was risky, it worked! The town quickly became a city and then blossomed into a beautiful metropolis with over 15 million healthy, happy citizens, a technological and economical marvel of our time. Today, Aster still shines as the business center of the nation, promising happiness, welfare, and economic prosperity to any and all who come seeking to find their purpose in life. And with the ever growing wealth of opportunity and freedom which Aster has to offer, our city's expansion and influence is showing no signs of stoppi--_

"This is bullshit." Will mumbled to himself, turning off of the TV-documentary which had started while he had been cleaning his apartment. Now, he needed some silence as he stared blankly at the calculator and set of bills before him. "Why do they have to make this shit so damn complicated; just tell me what I owe, damn it!"

He exhaled slowly, a half sigh and a half growl.

Will continued to whisper to himself in frustration as he slowly punched equation after equation into his calculator, the dull clacking of cheap plastic keys forming a steady rhythm to his work. Now that the TV was off, all he could hear apart from his calculator was the solemn flow of the air being pushed through the vents.At least I've got that, he thought, feeling the cool, artificial breeze from an air vent above him pass through his fur.

Won't have it for long if I can't figure out this piece a' crap bill..._Even though the paper in front of him had a clear "amount owed," Will knew he had to check every calculation and value on his monthly bills to ensure that he was not losing money. The wise tenants in Aster's middle class apartments knew that, though their landlords stated in contracts that monthly costs were based off of unit energy usage, their bills would sometimes have clandestine amounts added; they were small but excessive charges which would go directly into the staff and landlord's pockets--a most bureaucratic form of robbery. White collar crimes of this scale were too unimportant to warrant arrest or even an issued fine in a city as populated and chaotic as Aster. Even if these crimes were reported, the courts would be too packed to hold a trial, and though a small charge may be issued, it would almost never be completely filed--as Will knew all too well. It was simply not profitable for the tenants to involve the law or "due process." So by successfully calculating the correct values for their bills, any one of Aster's residents could tell if they were being robbed--that was their cue to terminate their lease at the next possible time and find a new place of residence. Will had already had to do this once before; his last apartment issued him a bill for roughly 15% more power usage than he actually used for his last week of his lease--just enough that it could have slipped past him if he had not been paying attention, monitoring his own utilities. He supposed that over-charge had been their way of saying_Goodbye! to one of their long-time tenants. Will returned to his work, clacking away at his calculator and scribbling down numbers. As he began to round out his final calculations, his work came to a sudden halt.

What the shit is this?! Will stared in disbelief at the final line of his bill which simply stated "Fees - 400c." The charge was almost half of his rent, and he had never seen it before. He immediately called to the office on the bottom floor of his building. The phone connected:

"Hello?" a female voice sounded through the small speaker in Will's smartphone.

"Yes, this is William Travers, Unit 805."

"What do you need?"

Will let the somewhat "short" nature of the question pass as he gathered himself.

"I was just wondering...um, about a--uh, a bill--I've got a charge called 'fees,' and I'm not really sure what that means. The amount's for--"

"Hold one moment." Smooth lounge music sounded through the phone speaker.

"Shit." Will figured that one moment_really meant _indefinitely or until she felt like talking to someone, which would probably never happen. But much to his relief, the apartment staff member picked up the phone only a few moments later; her curt language resumed.

"How much is the amount?"

"400c, that's like half of my--"

"We show records that a tenant left the apartment lease, which breached our contractual agreement. The fees are for amending the contract--payment from one tenant only. The corresponding amounts for any alterations to Day 1 contracts were stated in our original agreement."

"Damn." Will knew now why he was being charged.

"Excuse me?"

"Sorry--uh, thank you for your time." Before the office member could reply, Will had already ended the call.Fuck...had to hit me one more time; damn it, Kelly. Kelly was gone for good, and Will surmised that when she left the apartment, she made a stop by the office first to make sure that she was not going to have to pay for property that she had no part of. Will was the primary tenant on the contract, so he had the charges placed on him. It was only fair that she did not have to pay any more on the monthly apartment bill, but she could have at least settled the amendment fees. Other than the extra charge which Will had incurred, his bill was accurate. Disappointingly, he would be paying extra on his bill, and there was no way around it.

He payed the final amount with a click of a button on his phone. He wasn't sure why the apartment management still sent out physical copies of the bills when everything could be addressed electronically, but Will was still appreciative--he always liked the feel of paper and pencil over keyboard and touchscreen. He picked up the sheet in front of him, rubbing his paws across its smooth surface. It was such a simple document; there was no color or stylistic theme. There was only text with boxes to contain it and separate it. Letters and numbers were assembled together on an average paper with an average font held in an average fox's paw. And perhaps not surprisingly, it had all worked together to serve its purpose quite elegantly, even if those "fees" had created a temporary ripple in the process.

Will swiveled his chair around, sighing while also reclining back; a floor-to-ceiling window greeted him with a large-framed view. He let his paw fall to his side, still gently holding the bill, as he stared from his home into some other person's suite across the vast, dark expanse of air which separated their buildings. Both housing units were several stories off the ground--separated by a sea of night, and though there was a burdensome rain falling, Will could see as a late-shift worker, a female canine of some kind, returned home from her job. He could see as she collapsed on the couch, turning on the TV, and he could almost feel her relief as she reached for what appeared to be some type of drink on the small table before her. Will realized that he wasn't really watching her_that_ closely; he was simply noticing what he, in exhaustion, was staring past. And when he blinked, refocusing his gaze on her, he decided to join her in a toast, even if she did not know that she was involved--or that he even existed. Will got up, grabbed a beer from his refrigerator, and turned on the TV.

The Wednesday-night news flashed before his eyes and told him with much sensationalism that a great deal of the world outside of Aster was falling apart and that if he tuned-in next time he could continue to watch it crumble from the safety of his sofa. Much of what they said was true, but what the crumbling world did not know was that Aster was not its savior. It was only a volatile hiding place, which was getting bigger, stronger, and more dangerous with every new soul that stumbled into it seeking redemption.

At least, it appeared that way. Will blamed this pessimism on his job. After all, anyone who was on the Aster Police Force was mostly faced with the worst that anthro's could offer, so Will ensured that he made special note of the good ones, the people who took small moments of time out of their day to brighten another's. Even in a city as chaotic and capitalistic as Aster, there were still good people, they were highly uncommon, but they were there, blending in with the frantic and disinterested crowds. They were as immeasurable as the emptiness formed by a negative mass in a blackened void, but somehow, through a kind of minute displacement, they would cause temporary breaks and ripples in the coarse fabric of Aster's cold social structure. And though they might be hidden in this way, they were worth protecting. Will had joined the police force not because he had no other aspirations but because he saw a need which had to be fulfilled. Yes, people needed protecting, and Will wanted to protect. That was all he had ever really wanted, he supposed, and now that he had begun his life as a "protector," he found his desire had grown into a need, a necessary task which he yearned to fulfill.

Will muted the television. Taking a sip from his beer, he leaned back in his recliner. His apartment bill lay several feet away on the floor, used and forgotten--a stumbling-stone gone from his present, safely in his past. He shut his eyes, watching the light from the TV play across his darkened vision as he relaxed ever more slowly into a soft slumber. Outside, the rain continued to fall, glancing off panes of tinted glass, but the soothing sounds of its descent only served to lull a tired Will into a deeper state of unconsciousness.

He was happy.

***

The soft hum of the computer monitor in front of him quietly directed his hearing to the sound of the ticking clock just behind and above his head. His ears twitched; his face flushed. His heart beat faster as tiny blips of adrenaline entered his bloodstream with each "tick" of time's passing. And every other thought in his skull was not strong enough to measurably exist with the singular, monolithic idea that tonight he was going to do something that he had never done before.

Will took a deep breath; today was the day.

He was going to go with Peterson to the club Solar deep in the heart of Aster's commercialized central district. His mind had been racing since yesterday night; he could not imagine what he would do in such a place. His heart's heightened pace reminded him constantly of his anxiety and of the questions pulsing through his brain:What kind of place would it be? What kind of people would be there? What would he do? Dance? Drink? Meet someone?How long would he stay there? How long could he last? Will did his best to move these thoughts aside, reallocating some of his mental resources and focus to the witness reports on the computer monitor before him. He had opted to use most of his free Friday to complete reports needed for filing and case-closing purposes, a choice which had somewhat eased his anxious mood.

Case 0981OC3125, Franklin Arelli....The image of a black cat's limp body flashed into Will's mind, along with the image of the witness across the hall from Frank's apartment. She had heard the sound of the gunshot, but it seemed she had been the only one. The other tenants were either to afraid to speak to the police or were not in the building when the shooting occurred. Will read over the paper report that one of the beat-officers had created when interviewing this neighboring tenant; the hastily scrawled writing indicated, more or less, that she had little to say. According to the notes, the canine neighbor had simply been frightened by "the loud sound and arrival of police forces."

Will let out a sigh. He wished the notes had been more detailed, but he admitted to himself that worrying about lack of detail was pointless now. Frank Arelli was dead, and though the Aster Police Force had not succeeded in traditional judicial fashion, justice--in Will's mind--had indeed been served. The idea that Arelli had brought judgement to himself left Will with an odd mix of satisfaction and pity, yet as he submitted the completed digital report for filing, he let those feelings pass out of his mind.

_BING!_The clock behind Will sounded a short tone for the arrival of third-shift street officers, indicating that he had worked well past 5:00 p.m.--it was now 7:00 p.m., when the third round of beat-officers signed in for role at one of the district's many stations. Will leaned back in his seat; he felt like yawning, but when he looked up from his computer monitor to find a large bull walking into the office room where he sat, a quick shot of anxiety welled-up inside of him, stifling his mental and physical exhaustion. Peterson had arrived, and Will knew what the bull was going to say first:

"What the hell are you doing here?!"

"I'm--I'm just finishing up some reports from the, uh, Arelli case. Yea." Will replied shakily, quickly turning off his computer monitor and doing his best to make it look as if he had only been in the station for a few minutes. Peterson was not amused.

"Really, bro? You're gonna' come in on you're free day--a Friday, of all days--and work? Wow. That's some real shit right there."

Will stood from his seat. "Look, I hate having reports hanging over my head all weekend, okay? It's hard for me to relax when that crap's not done."

"You gotta' learn to let that stuff go a few days. Besides, Arelli's brains are still gettin' picked outta' the carpet; those reports don't need filing for a long damn time."

"But, they're due_seven days_after the case wrap-up begins."

"That's, like, four or five days from now. You could have done it on Monday, and--hell, I guess it doesn't matter now. I was about to head over to your place."

"Wait, why?"

"To see if you were ready to head up to Solar--shit's gonna' get real tonight; I hope all those reports didn't wear you out. To be honest, we should probably head over now."

"Um, isn't it a bit early to go clubbing? I mean, it's frickin' seven o' clock, what kind of club is this anyways?"

"Dude, the lines for Solar's night-quota start in 30 minutes."

"Night-quota?"

"Yea, only a certain number of people are allowed in the club. To compensate, they run the club in shifts. During the day, the windows close down, and the sun get's blocked so people can still party like it's midnight. When the day crowd gets through, they stumble out as the night crowd is coming in. It's a tight ship they're runnin' in there, I swear, and they only let the nicest lookin' or wealthiest anthro's in there--but don't worry, I'm sure they'll let you in, you're with me."

"Oh, thanks a lot." Will's tone of voice was gilt with sarcasm as a response to Peterson's last statement.

"You're not gonna have time to change, so--uh, let's just..." Peterson reached forward and yanked on Will's tie, catching the fox completely off-guard. The tie didn't budge from Will's neck.

"Oof! What the hell, Peterson?!" Will panted as the bull recoiled in surprise.

"Damn, I was certain that was a clip-on...Consider it payback for the coffee shop."

"Whatever...What did you want with it anyways?"

"Take that tie off and open your collar."

Will begrudgingly loosened and removed his tie, placing it in the top drawer of his office desk. He unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt. The upper portion of his soft, white chest fur "poofed" outward from the new opening.

"There, happy? Do I look like enough of a douche-bag to be considered one of your own?"

Peterson just smirked, "I guess you're passable." He tilted his head for only a moment and then placed one of his huge hands on Will's left shoulder. "Travers, you are gonna' be a changed fox after tonight. Just stick with me; you'll be fine." The bull seemed genuinely excited to contribute to the deviancy of his partner, like some kind of insane doctor believing he had administered_just the right amount of medicine_. Will wasn't so sure of Peterson's guarantee, but as the two left the station, he found that his anxiety had subsided, giving way to excitement and anticipation for the night ahead.

"Are we taking you're car?" Will said as the automatic door to the District Station 14 closed behind him. Peterson was quick to reply,

"Not a chance, neither of us is going to be able to drive, assuming we do tonight right. I'll get a cab."

"_You're_probably gonna' need one on speed dial..." Will mumbled under his breath.

"What was that?" Peterson's head swirled around, his horns making an small ivory arc in the air.

"Nothing. Are you sure this place is okay for cops? I mean, if the party is as good as you say it is, there's bound to be some higher-level shit happening in there. When I was workin' the street, we stayed the hell away from clubs--upper-class, middle-class, no class--it didn't matter, and if a club hired you for off-duty security, it was understood that you stayed outside; no one on our side of the law needed to risk glimpsing something. Hell, I declined off-duty offers most of the--"

"Don't worry about it; everything's gonna' be fine. You've gotta' learn to relax a little. Yea, there's probably some shady stuff happening in Solar--behind the scenes--but ever since the investigation way-back-when, there hasn't been anything worth reporting, at least not since I started going. It's gonna' be a helluva time, Will; you just need to get your game face on and loosen up--let that detective mindset take a backseat to a good time. Besides, Solar is hella-friendly to cops; they recognize the benefit of being in good standing with the right people--they'll probably be happy to see I brought a detective-friend along with me, hah!" Peterson smiled as he turned back to the street, waving his arm in the air to hail one of the oncoming cabs.

"Okay, okay. But what if something--"

'Taxi, Taxi! Finally, I'm not_that_ easy to miss. Shit..."

A taxi turned to the curb; Will noticed that Peterson had completely tuned him out as the cab arrived at the side of the street. He heard the driver ask something about whether there was some trouble; the bull had used his police badge to flag the cab.What an asshole...my partner's a complete asshole. Will thought as he climbed into the backseat of the car.

"No, no trouble, just having a shit time trying to get one of you guys to pull over." Peterson said gruffly, pulling his large frame into the small backseat of the car. Will slid over on his side of the seat to make as much room as possible for his over-sized partner.

"You in a hurry or somethin'? Where ya' headed?" the cab driver, a fox like Will, spoke with a heavy accent. He seemed quite old, but not so much so as to be incapable of dealing with Aster's terrifying traffic conditions.

"Heading to Solar, J.M.Gregg Building." Peterson stated plainly. The taxi's GPS system detected Peterson's voice and automatically started a route, calculated the time based on traffic, and--of course--created an estimated fee for the transit.

"See that?" the driver pointed a grayish and worn claw to the price.

"Yea, it's fine." Peterson said quickly, pulling out his phone to begin playing some kind of mobile game. Will did not mind the few extra moments of silence to gather himself and his thoughts

The taxi smelled of a thousand different scents, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, Will was reminded of his keen sense of smell. Hundreds of hurried people must have passed through this vehicle just today, all hoping to reach their destination safely, and now, Will sat quietly on a seat covered in strands of fur. He stared blankly out the window at the crowds of people in the streets; he felt as though he were, in this moment, a small tourist on a safari--gawking at ferals. Only in this instance, the ferals far outnumbered Will. He realized how selfish it was to allow his brain to calmly strip people of their identity and anthropomorphism, but he also found himself assaulted with a preeminent thought:There's us, and there's the ferals. What makes us so different from them? He realized how dangerous this thought could be, and as a bump in the road jostled the taxi, Will transferred from this train of the thought to another: Solar. Now, he could not stop thinking about the club and how nervous he would be there. The only thought that allowed him an adequate degree of long-suffering in this state was that this would be good for him. Yes, he would be better off having this experience. He would meet new people in a new environment, and he would surely come away from that a better person.Surely. He repeated the word to himself in his mind.Surely I will benefit from this . The more he thought it, the less he believed it. But as the J.M. Gregg Building loomed more closely amidst the other towering structures in Aster's central district, the fox felt that he would need to muster a blind faith, arguably the only kind of faith, to enjoy the night to any degree. Understanding this necessity, he found courage within himself to brave the unfamiliar social-scape to come.

And in that moment, he believed that he was ready.

---

©"JazzTiger" 2015