FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Ready? I was kidding myself, trying to convince myself even as I entered the flotation tank room. I wanted to feel committed, but my thoughts were a mess of fear and confusion. Darker thoughts circled, forming a void underneath my consciousness.

I wanted to feel resolved, but all I felt was a rushed sense of dread. Would I even make it out of this room, or would these be my last moments with Shadow?

In the flotation tank room, intelligent beings from around the world gathered to place sensors, arguing and tense with anticipation. The hulking technology machines and work stations were foreign and strange. Fin tech? It was mostly Fins at the tech stations. Most present were of Featherdom and Furdom, though there were several from Findom.

Everyone wanted it to be over, wanted the old way of the world, the illusion of safety we’d all had. Wanted more than me, alone and anxious in the corner? My thoughts carried arguments, circling the rabbit hole, deep in my mind.

We had to stop George. It reached out, wanting… wanting some kind of contact, for a reason I didn’t yet understand. I understood loneliness, understood the separation of knowing there was someone you couldn’t connect with. It was torture to be on the outside. But this was complicated!

We couldn’t know what it wanted, might never know, but maybe it didn’t matter. It was too much for our little planet. George had to find another source for… whatever.

The zombies. Were they an expression of the Curtain? Were they a mistake of misplaced Curtain energy, like the frosted light captured in glass? Or were they a reflection of the Curtain, without individuality of their own. The zombies could be another attempt of George, a possible life trying desperately and ignorantly, to reach out. Should I feel sorry for the thing, George?

I couldn’t feel sorry for it. Sorry for the enemy? Sorry for the thing ripping everyone from loved ones, destroying our culture and achievements?

Why did I even question it? Why did I question myself? I shook my head, but it didn’t clear.

“You doing alright?” asked a very deep voice.

I looked up to see Tehma. I found a smile in me, knowing he only wanted the Curtain to end like the rest of us. He was a denizen of our planet too. Had he lost more than I had? He was focused more on the survival of Fins, but I couldn’t blame him. I wanted the survival of all furs, and I wasn’t as interested in the survival of feathers, as I didn’t really know any of them well enough. Maybe in the future that might change, a new world might be born in the aftermath.

“I’ll be alright,” I mumbled, looking down at my paws. “So what’s the plan for today?”

“Well, young fur, we may have a solution to end things,” he said, grinning with proud enthusiasm. “We’re counting on you to do your part.”

I nodded, feeling reserved. “It’s my job in this, but I really want this to end.”

“As do I.”

I hesitated before barely breathing, “Tehma….”

“Yes, pup?”

I took in a long breath, looking down at my paws. “I think it has some kind of forming intelligence. But I don’t think it feels the same as-”

Tehma sighed, placing a heavy, webbed hand on my shoulder. “I am aware of something changing in it.”

My eyes widened, looking up at him.

The big fin gave me a gentler smile. “You are not the first to acknowledge its strange changes. Intelligence, perhaps, but at least it has reactivity.”

“But you know,” I sighed, feeling some level of relief. At least I wasn’t the only one who knew, the only one to take on the burden. I hesitated before speaking, “But is it wrong to isolate the thing when it’s just starting to be aware?”

“Young fur,” he said, giving my shoulder a light squeeze. “It’s okay to have needs, it’s alright to acknowledge our own right to survive this possible intelligence. It is always welcome to try elsewhere. But we have our own rights of survival. Perhaps it will be driven in its existence to find new things, now that it has become aware.”

I nodded, looking over to where Shadow was staring at me from across the big room with concern in his golden eyes. He relaxed when I returned his gaze with a small smile, showing my nervousness, but also my conviction.

At least, I was hoping I was set and clear in my path forward. As Tehma excused himself and rejoined the chaos around us, I straightened and rolled my shoulders in an attempt to relax. I nodded to a passing fur’s random encouragement. At least someone was enthused.

I wished to be as enthusiastic, wished to be filled with righteous conviction, wished to feel ready, but all I felt were more questions in my heart. Some questions would never find answers, no matter what happened this day. I would need to be okay with that if I was to survive.

Did Pekkins question himself in the same place I was yesterday? Is that why he failed? Or was the failure from the science side, from the different technologies failing to merge correctly?

Why was I still asking myself so many questions? I needed to stop my racing thoughts. I was so torn, so unsettled. The unsettled feeling, churning my insides, was not helped in the least by the nearby swatting of paws and feathered hands.

Really!? Ridiculous. Adults fighting each other. Galena and Moore shouted at each other, batting at each other with their limbs. Feathers fluttered to the ground, a beak clicked, and teeth snapped.

I grit my own teeth, trying to wait them out. They weren’t stopping; if anything it was escalating. They grew louder, and I could feel my control slipping.

“Stop it!” I yelled, unable to hold my cool. “Furry hells, and whatever else! Why do you have to fight now? Don’t you need to fix this? Figure out your own mess another time!”

They both gaped at me, their limbs frozen, mid-fight. The two very different, intelligent beings, frozen in similar shock. They couldn’t see each other as denizens of the planet?

“Find some damn compromise,” I scolded. “Acting like pups. Really.”

A beak and a short muzzle snapped shut, making differing clicks. Sharp eyes focused hard on me.

“And you pup, pay attention!” snapped Moore. The wombat glared at me, his little eyes flashing with ugly temper. “This tweet-tweet airhead can’t figure out how to-”

“I said stop.” I rubbed my aching temples. “Figure things out. Damn.”

Was it nervousness that caused a bit of lightheadedness, or was I coming down with something after all the stress and exposure? Weeks of run-ins with dead bodies, zombies, and beings had numerous exposure factors.

I took a deep breath. Stress. Headaches and feeling strange was due to stress. I made myself relax and ignore the prodding and arguments, giving my mind some relief.

A bit of my own peace gathered, knowing Shadow and Burt were at the far wall, keeping watchful eyes on what occurred. I could just make out a bit of a woodsy, wild scent. It was difficult to pick from the numerous scents wafting around, but I knew my Wulf.

Shadow gave me a subtle thumb’s up gesture from across the room. He nodded to me. He may not agree with my decision, but he would support me. I smiled back, trying to give a confident thumb’s up too.

I drew another slow breath, drawing my inner calm. I needed to be my own inner strength, my own inner calm, and I could show my calm strength. Those qualities could help others, would help me.

I’d seen myself as weak, my father had seen me as weak, told me I was weak, but I was as strong as any fur. My real strength came from within me, not from another’s judgement. Find my inner calm, my inner peace. I knew how to find my inner strength; it was a part of me.

My budding peace was interrupted by a sharp pinch of pain.

“Ow!” I said, blinking my eyes rapidly.

“Hold still. A small insertion of a node here, just below the skin. Perfectly harmless,” said Tehma nearby as a colorful feather I didn’t recognize continued to place the sensor.

I tried to hold back my wince and was partially successful. Looking up, I tried to find my cool calmness again in Shadow’s golden eyes. Those eyes were blazing at my discomfort.

I managed an unsteady grin his way, and he relaxed, glancing up at Burt. The bull was watchful with a deep frown on his thick muzzle. Neither of them seemed pleased with the hurried scientists.

Lisa, the spotted doe, looked up, giving a signal. For the first time, I noticed a wide window, placed high in the room. Silhouettes of watchers were visible through the darkened glass, looking down upon us. Were those the bosses of this madness, watching everything beneath them?

Two science techs prepped me for the tank while I tried to be cooperative. When I was all geared up, I was directed to the metal platform over the tank. Standing at the ladder leading into still water, watching my anxious reflection was far from calming. I might die down there, seize in the water and drown. Suddenly, I didn’t want to be there. This was a terrible idea.

Calls went up that noon was approaching. The organized chaos became frantic. Lisa tried to keep things calm, but a few scientists called out they weren’t ready.

My nerves were already on edge. This was my life here! I found myself turning to exit the tank platform, but the two techs, a skunk and a ferret, gestured me back in. Steeling myself, I shuddered in breaths.

This was bad.

I wasn’t calm; I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t listening for the tune. I could perceive it, gaining strength as the Curtain approached. My inserted earbuds were linked to forward the Curtain frequencies from outside without killing me with its exposure. The tune inside the mixed frequencies was clear and beautiful. If everything succeeded, I’d never hear it again.

Would I miss the tune? It had accompanied me all these weeks. Like Shadow, but I would not be losing Shadow. Would I miss the tune in all its changeable beauty?

My mind was hyper-active with running questions and the sensory chaos from the big room. I tried to calm, to focus on the blackness behind my eyes, but a prod at my back prompted me to open them. An otter was gesturing me down, into the tank. I nodded and descended.

Water pressured me on all sides like an everywhere hug. The breather at my muzzle was secure and without leaks. I felt safe enough, save the frantic activity outside the tank. How much longer?

How much longer until either my failure, death, or success?

I might die and not succeed. That gave me a sinking feeling in my heart. Shadow would have to deal with the world all on his own, knowing his one-time mate was gone forever.

Shadow, in the distorted distance, stepped away from the far wall. As if sensing my poorly-controlled distress, he came close to the clear tank wall, with an understanding smile on his muzzle. His figure and muzzle scar appeared softened through the fluid. He pressed his paw to the tank glass, smiling and meeting my eyes with confident golden hues.

I moved forward to meet his paw, pressing up against the glass too. Maybe it was a little cliché, but I found a great comfort, knowing he was there. Muffled voices and calls warbled through the water, unintelligible. Shadow’s eyes flashed in annoyance when someone brushed by him, but it wasn’t the flinch I’d expected. Good Wulf.

I nodded to him, smiling where the breathing mask allowed. He mouthed something looking like “I love you” and stepped out of the way of the rushing scientists.

Like a bad deadline, there were those obviously prepared, and those who hadn’t done their homework. It should have been laughable, but this was my life we were talking about! What if I ended up like Listener Callie, who had died?

If I died, I would have that last moment of Shadow’s ‘I love you.’ Maybe it didn’t matter what happened, here, today. If the Curtain ended, I might die at peace, loved in all love’s wonders and togetherness?

I smiled, feeling the Curtain coming closer by the tune rising. The Curtain would be visible on the surface, high above us. It would fall to earth in rippling magnificence. It was beautiful, why hadn’t I noticed it before? Losing it would-

I shook my head. No. It must go. I felt sympathy, almost a care, for George. It would be terrible to first not know you’re all alone, and on realizing, you’d do anything to not be alone. Maybe I was projecting my feelings onto something that didn’t even have them. I was alone, therefore I assumed it would dislike the loneliness.

But it must leave. “Look somewhere else,” I whispered into the mask.

“What?” asked a detached voice in my earbuds.

“No. It’s nothing,” I said. “Just talking to myself.”

“Right. The Event is very nearly here. Be ready.”

Everything was still. It seemed even the workers were still for a moment of unending nothing. Steps slowed. My heart thumped in my ears. I sucked in a breath, holding it…. And there it was. The tune I perceived strengthened, the Curtain approaching. It was here!

“Now, Tyler,” came an excited voice in my ear. “Let’s hear that tune. Humming is probably more accurate to tone, so make it true, and don’t fall behind the tune. We’ll match what you hum, and we’ll attempt to close the anomaly on a carrier wave matched to the notes.”

I nodded, closing my eyes as the Curtain dropped, high above me, perhaps for the last time. Hopefully.

The Curtain fell, and it washed over me. It was dulled by layers of sturdy rock, only the frequencies of the tune were supposed to make it through in my ears. This time, though, I felt my body shiver in distress with the faint vibrations.

I closed my eyes and focused on the tune, trying not to think of the furs assaulting the base, trying to not think I might be dead by the time the Curtain passed. Most of all I tried not to worry about the one I loved the most, standing nearby, full of his own worries. That Wulf was my strength, and he was here with me, to do this.

I closed my eyes, a feeling of dizziness slipping through me before steadying. I focused on the tune and hummed.

I hummed and hummed, as true to tone as I could perceive. The world faded away, my mind turning inward. I found myself in the mental landscape of the Curtain, all rippled and beautiful with tone, with expression, with being and presence. In my mind’s eye, the surface rippled into the forms of those I’d lost, with those I’d recently gained, with… Shadow!?

No. He wasn’t real.

George must leave. Though George tried to connect with me through the faces and remembered voices, I must let George go. Much as I missed those individuals lost, I must focus on those I’d gained.

I hummed, but in my mind, someone faceless, almost formless, realized. George approached, then shivered in effort, looking up… to focus on me. It was… me?

It looked like me. I’d been lonely. I’d been detached, on my own, wishing for love. I watched those around me enjoy love but struggled to release my self to connect. George understood me. George knew me.

George was so very much like me.

My heart throbbed, jumped in shock. I faltered in my humming, and had to refocus. The vision of George within the Curtain faded, then firmed.

don’t

What was that voice? It sounded like my mental thoughts, but it wasn’t me.

Please.

Voices outside the tank were excited over my hums. They yelled water-warped words through the fluid medium. I kept my eyes closed from the distraction. Hum. Keep the tune.

The tune in my head, the rhythm of the world and the Curtain. The harmonics of them together. It all filled me. My furry cheeks were wet under the mask. I was crying. Crying for what? For everything. Everything was so sad, so beautiful.

George must go now, I tried to tell George.

Please.

George must go home. George didn’t belong here. George must go somewhere else. Here, it was killing us. It’s existence through the zombie things, the Curtain, the madness were killing us.

George didn’t understand, I could sense that. Reluctant to go, and as I was the one resisting, George lashed out.

George wanted to stay.

I kept humming. Like a pup, George must learn things. Even if George was new, there were limits for anyone and anything.

Please.

Who was it? Was it us both asking?

This was it. I didn’t have time for thoughts of death, of life, of the entity, just focusing on the tune was enough. Something surged even as the Curtain entity faded away. The sense of George vanished, and my body felt the backlash of sensory lack, thrashing around. It got worse, the backlash causing my body to flail slowly in the water. My head felt tingly, singed with sensation. Couldn’t breathe!

I blinked-

***

What is an instant? What is eternity? Perhaps the dead know.

Surrounded in colors I couldn’t name, not understanding the warping of them. Nothing, but everything around. Vagueness. Fuzzy. Rising, surging high, faster, faster.

Gasping. Gasping. Mind racing with survival panic.

Curling up on wet, hard flooring, shadowed figures gathered around. I shuddered, my panicked body thrashed. I reached out for help, avoiding the blocking paws, hoofs, limbs….

“Tyler!”

...hugging me, all around and over me, getting his fur and clothes wet too.

A voice; it was faded in my unpleasant ears. “Easy there, Tyler. You’ve had a seizure. You’re safe. See? Your wolf is here with you.”

“Wuuuuuff,” I garbled as my body calmed.

Sobbing vibrated my chest; paws clung to me and my limp arms. It took me a moment to recognize... Shadow.

I felt sore and tired, with a sense of anxiety that didn’t seem to come from anywhere. My tongue hurt too, and I spit out blood. A paw I could hardly control raised to thunk my forehead. I blinked, still confused. My mind couldn’t pull together.

“Whaaaah...?

My Wulf laughed and sobbed at the same time. He tried to speak, but was unable to through his upset. Then he started to lick on my ear, and I felt the anxious panic within me soothe.

“Stay calm, you’re safe. You’ve had another seizure,” said Dr. Floyd. The lion was monitoring my vitals. She added an oxygen tube to my nostrils.

I blinked up at the gray ceiling. Another seizure?

“Wha... wab… I-”

I couldn’t pull together what had happened. I had been in the flotation tank, the Curtain, then…?

Dr. Floyd smiled at me, her sharp lion teeth sparkled in the light. “You hummed your heart out. Then you thrashed around, tearing your mask off. You were half drowned when they pulled you from the tank. Halfway out of the tank, you had a seizure. Something must have worked though. Most are down in the cafeteria celebrating.”

I looked around, and it took my mind a moment to arrange what I was seeing. Things shifted as it came clearer. A few fins were still checking on their technology. One big device was burnt to a crisp, with fire-retardant all over it.

A few furs chattered and whooped from the far side of the room. Moore stood by himself, pouring over a printout of data, longer than he was tall. Galena and another eagle preened, bragging between each other, fluffing their head feathers in keen interest and happiness.

“Ihs… okeh?” I asked, looking down to Shadow, who had calmed and was nodding into my chest, hugging me close.

It seemed so quiet, and I struggled to find why. There were still noises in the big room, excited furs chattered.

“The Fins are saying the detected anomaly has disappeared. They believe they’ve fixed things, pup,” said Burt, crouched nearby, surveying the sights around us. “I don’t know what it means, or if it means the Curtain events are over. ‘Guess we’ll see tomorrow.”

“Or the next day,” chipped in Shadow his grinning muzzle against my well-licked ear.

“Let’s get Tyler up. He should be fine with some rest,” said Dr. Floyd. I clung to Shadow, not willing to give an inch.

“Let’s get you up and dry, little tod,” said Burt. “Then you can snuggle with your wolf without a care in the world.”

I sighed and let Burt pick me up. Shadow’s paw gripped mine, unwilling to let me go. I felt worn out, barely able to put strength into a return grip to Shadow’s paw.

I drifted half-aware, and the world cleared slowly. We walked along the hallway, furs and feathers mingling and congratulating each other, ignoring us as we passed. So much for my supposed value here.

Why did it seem so quiet? The tune. The tune in my ears, the ear worm I’d been hearing and humming to for weeks was gone. Why were my eyes tearing up? I’d never hear it again, and that was good, right?

We passed the Playroom, empty of its Listeners, with lights dimmed to save energy. It seemed empty of the fun it was supposed to bring, toys and games and colorful furniture idle.

I looked over to Shadow from Burt’s thick arms, and he grinned back at me. Managing my own smile, encouraged his to grow even wider. Ah, my Wulf gave me such feelings of warmth inside. I wanted to rest, to snuggle with Shadow all afternoon. I wanted to rest my head against his strong chest, listen to his heartbeat and curl my arm as far as I could around him.

Burt wedged me into our little room, placing me on the gray bed. I lay, collapsed and exhausted while Shadow curled up behind me with a low growl. He put his back to the wall to snuggle-spoon me. His soothing presence lulled me into a dream-like happiness, and I forgot there was someone else in the room.

Burt’s hoof-steps moved away. “I’ll turn out the lights, get some rest.”

“Not tired,” I said around a yawn, pleased I’d said it clearer than previous words.

Burt’s deep chuckle echoed in the bare-walled room. “Of course,” he said at the door. “I’ll just let you two rest. You’ve done good, pups.”

He left, and I nodded, believing his words until I remembered George in the Curtain. It was alone now, separated and drifting in infinite blackness. At least I might assume so.

Tears gathered in my eyes, and I tried to hold them back, but soon I was shuddering in sobs. Did I do the right thing? There was no way to know.

Shadow seemed confused by my reaction even as he helped me pull off my shirt. While cheers and happy calls echoed along the hallways outside, I fell apart in the gray room. I sobbed through the overwhelm of everything, hardly aware of him shifting to remove his own clothes.

I sobbed, staring at the items of my fate on the narrow dresser. I reached to touch the picture of my family, one of the few I was included in. The angel-kitty Kaylee had played with, drawing over the plastic skirt with pup-ish scribbles. The zombie kitty from when I’d met Shadow.

Memories spun circles in my mind. Meeting Shadow, when our eyes first met. Kaylee bouncing the angel-kitty on the back of the couch, mimicking a little voice. Mom’s struggle to get Dad to pose in the photo. All that had happened since: Shadow wiping oatmeal from my face in the farmhouse, Shadow’s bouncing tail, walking down the hallway, the prejudice and eventual acceptance at the FurShopper. Memories, confusion, fear. Was it over? Could it be over?

I sobbed harder, and Shadow held my shuddering body close, whispering things and stroking my side gently. Shadow was still here, we had not ended. Survival was ours, right? It didn’t feel real.

Shadow’s paws closed over mine, reminding me of his firm presence when he started nibbling on my nape. I returned his grip the best I could, but I felt the world might spin out of control. I felt so worn out, so used by the world.

Was this how Shadow felt when he left the shed? Had the moon felt like a saving grace, as Shadow did to my heart?

I curled tighter on my sobs, and Shadow curled in with me, stroking my brow and telling me it was going to be okay. I wanted that, for everything to be okay. I wanted everyone to be happy and safe. No one had been happy and safe. Now, George in the Curtain was alone and perhaps unsafe, but the rest of us were peachy?

Was it fair? Was I a bad fur for isolating a budding intelligence?

Maybe nothing was fair in life. It wasn’t about what was good and evil. Survival was key, options were the key to survival. Shadow and I had been low on options for weeks, and now we might be faced with more options than we knew what to do with.

It was all conditional on whether the Curtains… the Events were over.

Shadow’s voice told me it was all over, that we were safe, that life would be better for us. I needed to hear that. I believed him; because I had to, else I might just drive myself insane with questions.

I took in a deep, breath, drawing through shudders and sobs, and began the process of calming. Shadow and I, we were strong, and even stronger together. More than survival, we had acceptance. Neither of us had grown up with acceptance; now we had each other and friends too. Acceptance. Care. Love.

My breathing had evened. Shadow’s voice stilled, and he slipped into dreamland behind me, exhausted by his own stresses. How worried had he been? While I was immersed in my own worries, had I missed his?

My eyes slipped shut, fatigue overwhelming me. Music thumped from the nearby common room, reminding me there was no longer a tune countering in my head. Intelligent creatures there from all over the world partied like it was not the end of the world.

And maybe, just maybe, I’d had a bit of a paw in that too.