FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"You two realize you can't keep me isolated like this, right?" Horace looked out the hover's window, a city, far below; green fields around it. They could be over any of the continents. At this height, he wouldn't be able to tell.

"We still have a few hours until the network flags your absence as suspicious," the woman said smugly. "Plenty of time to finish this." She was a ferret in light attire, a woman on vacation with her friend. Her companion, a dour-looking bear in a slick black bodysuit, didn't look the part. Horace was in the bathrobe they'd handed him when forcing him into the family hover. Being kidnapped out of an orgy didn't lead to him having clothes on hand for the sensibility of his kidnappers.

A Mirror, he suspected her of being, although her beta hadn't introduced themselves. The bear would be an Angel, they always had something of a warrior feel to them, in Horace's opinion, which was odd, considering Angel was an archiving AI.

"I don't know what a few more hours are going to give you that the last three days haven't," he replied. At least the hover was fully stocked for a month, and rooms, and they still considered him to be on their side, for all the chaos he'd learned was going on from them.

"I can make you see reason," the bear growled.

Horace wasn't sure how long they'd see him that way. Less than a few more hours, he suspected. They just didn't understand how this worked.

"Even if I wanted to help you--"

"Are you saying you aren't loyal to Anderson?" the bear growled.

Horace fixed his gaze on him. "I," he stated, "am loyal to the Colonies. Not one person within them. If Anderson has stepped--"

"She's been thrown out," the ferret said. "There was a coup, and she barely escaped in time. Now she needs your help."

"And for the umpteenth time, I cannot funnel and money in her direction. I don't have control over the money that way."

"You have all the control," the bear growled. It seemed to be the only way he knew how to talk.

"I have no control," Horace replied. "My job is to take the products your betas create and put them on the market through my production company, that money is put into accounts which you," he pointed at the two of them, "are then tasked with redistributing through the solar system's banking network so agents like you can be given access to the funds when their mission require it."

"But without Anderson at the control, we don't know which accounts those are," the ferret said smiling. She placed a hand on his leg. "You have to understand, we're trying to make sure the usurpers don't destroy what Anderson spent years building."

A Casanova would have been smoother, Horace thought. For one thing, they'd have known not to try seduction from a woman with him. The bear had better odds, if not for his foul temper. Horace gently removed her hand. She could still kill him without hesitation if he wasn't careful. Not every Colony agent was about seduction and bedding someone as a way of getting what they wanted. Most of them were more physical in their approach.

"Again, even if I had an interest in getting involved with politics, I can't."

"You could send the fund to different accounts."

"Which would be noticed and put my position in jeopardy."

"I'd think you'd be willing to risk something for the safety of the Colonies," the bear growled.

"I am not an agent. My job isn't to risk anything, it's to ensure the finances are there so you can do your missions."

"And that's all we're asking you to do right now. Make sure we have the finances so we can help Anderson established herself again, and work toward retaking her position." The ferret said.

Horace sighed. "Repeating the same thing over and over will not change the fact that I can't do it. My company has a fixed number of accounts, put in place by experts so the unnoticed shifting of funds can happen. Unlike what you seem to think, the corporations do pay attention to what happens within the network, not to say anything the SolGov's paranoia. If I create a new account, someone will notice, and they will pay attention. When the money in it disappears, because you've taken it. They're going to come asking what I'm up to. Which I'm going to have a fucking hard time explaining, seeing as spies just revealed they have access to my accounts!" Horace was up and pacing.

"Just fix the accounts so they don't notice, like the rest." The bear tracked his movement.

"You seem to be under the misguided impression I have anything to do with setting up those accounts. I'm a salesman. That's it. I'm not a spy, I'm not a hacker. I'm not whatever your job requires. I'm a guy who sells stuff."

The bear stood before him, puffing his chest. "Sounds to me you should be a loyalist first."

"And is that supposed to make me suddenly able to hack the banking system?" Horace demanded. "And don't you fucking question my loyalties. I've been out here for eighty years. That's eighty years without contact with my family back on the Colonies. How long has it been for you since you set foot back there? A year? Two? Until you decide to accept you might never go home again, don't you fucking dare ask about my loyalties."

The bear's hands creaked as they closed into fists. Even if they were not mechanical augments, this bear had had work done, Horace was sure of it. Muscular enhancement, skeletal reinforcing to go along with it. If the bear struck him, Horace would only survive the blow if the bear intended him to.

He was still angry enough not to give a damn right now. Fucking questioning where his loyalties lied.

"Marcel," the ferret said, "stand down. Horace isn't the enemy."

"Sound like it to me," the bear growled.

"You understand that without Anderson at the lead, the Colonies aren't going to last," she said.

Horace closed his eyes and let his breath out. "The Colonies were there long before Anderson, they're going to be around long after whoever takes over Sanitation from her."

"Are you willing to risk everyone there on that belief?"

Horace sighed, and there she went again. Like restating everyone was in some hypothetical danger changed what he had the power to do. Not a Mirror, he decided, definitely not a Casanova, which left an Angel. That would account for the stubbornness. Archiving was something they could control, everything could be made to do what they wanted with the right approach. Words or fists.

He dropped on the couch. "Look, if you're going to kill me, just do it, okay? Because what you're asking isn't something I can do. I don't have the skills, I don't have the infrastructure. You'd have better luck hacking the banking system and getting your funds that way than asking me to funnel some to Anderson."

"No," The bear growled. "I don't think so. I still have time to make you see reason."

"Marcel," the ferret ordered, and the bear turned his glare on her. The silent staring stretched on long enough Horace closed his eyes. The four of them were discussing his future, and until they came out of it, he might as well see if he could nap.

"I do wish you understood the situation," the ferret finally said. Ten minutes, Horace's display showed.

"And I wish you understood the definition of 'impossible'," he replied, not caring if she found his tone offensive. The bear stepped away. So Horace wasn't going to suffer, yay him. After a minute of silence, Horace opened his eyes. She was looking at him, no expression on her face. Did she have an Implant? The beta-agent teams weren't dependent on implants, Horace knew that much, there were too many people on the Colonies who were against being implanted to make that feasible, but did that mean someone with an Implant couldn't be an agent? He'd never considered that.

The hover shook, and he looked out. More hovers. They were on a landing lot. The door lifted opened, and he stared out of it.

"You're free to go."

"That's it?" Horace asked, not sure if he believed her. Network feed registered, his clock updated to local time, Soromis. Performance reports came in on book and movie markets he kept an eye on.

"Unless this entire thing about it being impossible for you to help us protect the Colonies was a ploy to mask your cowardness, I don't see there's anything more you can help us with."

Horace hated how she made it sound like he wasn't loyal, and caught himself trying to come up with something to help them. To show he wasn't some traitor, before shutting the thoughts down. It wasn't his job. They were the spies. Let them deal with this.

He stepped out, tied the bathrobe around his waist. Right, bathrobe. He turned to ask for clothing but the door closed and he stepped back, covering his face as the turbulence raised dust. No help from that front.

He accessed the local directory, located a clothing shop, and headed there, ignoring the stares people gave him. They should be happy. At least he wasn't naked.

* * * * *

The nice thing, Horace thought, about being a producer with business around the globe, was that all his visas were in order, so other than the tilt of the ear at his attire, the woman manning the store didn't comment on his presence. He had no idea what he'd say if asked.

He settled on shorts and a shirt, white to account for the heat, and an under-sole pad for his feet. Nothing major had happened in the days he'd been kept moving, and the products that had come in had automatically been sorted in their appropriate categories. He'd look them over to make sure they were no mistake, then look for clients who'd like them. The few messages from customers his automated system couldn't handle, he replied to, letting them know he was taking a few day's vacations and would get to them once he was back at work.

And a vacation it would be. Soromis had nice clubs, a few offering sex, although they wouldn't be the sexual free-for-all only Orr corp could manage. He treated himself to physically prepared food. One of the treats he allowed himself; and watched the artisan cook his meal.

Halfway through eating, he felt watched, but filed that away as a side effect of his kidnapping. It persisted as he headed for the spa and pinged the network; maybe someone was looking for him? No queries were active. Then, he swore he saw a shadow in an alley vanish as he noticed it. He needed the spa to calm himself. A long full body massage by a beefy lion, then an extra hour for sex with him and he'd be as good as new.

As he approached the spa he saw the shadow again and he slowed.

What if...

What if the ferret and Marcel weren't the only ones looking for him? They'd said Anderson had been kicked out, which meant there was another group out there who might want to get their hands on him.

He looked again, and the shadow was gone.

Yeah, he needed that spa treatment.

The shadow was back as he stepped to the door, and this time it didn't vanish, it ran at him.

Horace ran in the opposite direction even as his brain demanded to know what he was doing. Running for his life was the only answer he could provide, which he knew was stupid. That couldn't be some shadowing organization who might want access to a network of funds he was the entry point for. No, those were things that happened in movies, bad ones at that.

Horace decided that being part of such a shadowy organization sucked right after being kidnapped. He needed somewhere public. He knew that. Which made running blindly as he was stupid. He called up a map. There was a plaza a few blocks away. He could reach it. There no one would be able to do anything among all the people.

He called for a pedestrian update and found out that what he saw didn't match what the update said. According to it, the few people he saw walking along the path, looking into the stores, and generally ignoring his running, weren't there.

He was alone on this path.

Then the hand closed over his mouth and the network vanished from his awareness.

* * * * *

Horace didn't know what to think.

He'd gotten over a second kidnapping when they'd identified themselves as Orr security. He'd been rather proud that he'd thought to demand proof, which they'd provided. He'd accepted that they believed he was in danger, and didn't point out they were late in rescuing him. Having to explain a shadowy organization to corporate security was not a good idea.

He'd even accepted that they landed on the Cisco islands and that they escorted him inside Orr corporate headquarter, instead of some police station so they could explain how they thought he was in danger.

Somehow, he'd even accepted that the tiger before him wasn't Trevor Pakesh, as he'd known him, but Trevor Orr. After all, it explained the security, the headquarter, everything, really. Everything except what he'd just said.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Horace said. What else could he say to being accused of being a spy for the Colonies? No, not being accused. Of not having confided in Trevor that he was.

"Don't give me that," the tiger replied. "I do this for a living. Your history is amazingly good, but there's a flaw in it."

Horace swallowed. Tried to, his mouth was Mars desert dry. There couldn't be a flaw, AIs had built it, taken everything into account.

"I know Cassius Gold," Trevor said.

Horace nodded. "Everyone does," he said dumbly.

Trevor's eyes narrowed. "Damn it, Horace, I'm not accusing you of anything."

"You said I'm a spy?"

"Well, you are."

"I'm a salesman."

"Uncle, will you get in here and help?"

A tiger appeared, and it took a moment for Horace to realize he was being projected in the room, rather than an Implant transmission.

"Why? You seem to have a way with your friends that's rather entertaining," the new tiger said. He looked to be only a decade or two older than Trevor, but there was an air of age about him. He smiled at Horace. "Hello, Horace. I'm Uncle, I believe you might have heard me referred to as the Orr AI?"

"Okay," Horace answered, then realized what had been said. "No, there's no such thing as AIs."

"I think Casanova might disagree," the tiger said.

Horace put a hand on the table and barely moved in time to fall in the chair. Fuck not revealing anything. They knew about Casanova, about him being an AI.

"Does your friend know where he's been?" Trevor asked, and Horace almost answered, but he was talking the other tiger, to Uncle, to an AI? That was impossible.

"It might, but it made it clear that all it was willing to do was continue setting the stage for the negotiations. Whatever this," the tiger motioned between Horace and Trevor, "is ultimately about, it doesn't want to be involved."

Was this what the ferret had meant? Had the corporations found out about the Colonies, infiltrated them, and were taking over?

"Horace, you need to calm down," the tiger said, "whatever you're imagining is sending your blood pressure to alarm raising levels."

"How?"

"You do have that level of control with your Implant, correct?"

"How do you know?" he asked weakly.

"Ah. Trevor?"

Trevor sat on the opposite side. "Since you were officially distributing Cassius Gold's movie, I'm guessing you know who's behind the name? Which beta AI, I mean?"

They knew about betas?

"You just raised his blood pressure, Trevor."

"Then do something. I'm a network security inspector, not a diplomat."

"Horace, the Colonies are not in danger. In fact, negotiations will be opening with them in the foreseeable future. If it helps, I'm already there, in fact doing the same work I am doing with the Colony AI here."

"There's an AI here?"

"Caduceus."

Horace nodded. Maybe he was beyond shock because that didn't even register as surprising. "So what happens now?" he asked. Was he a prisoner? Were they going to question him, dismantle the financial network?

"Now you're going to help us rescue Bobby," Trevor said.

And it took Horace a full minute to remember who Bobby was.