FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

As usual, thanks to DukeFerret and psydrosis for proofreading and editing.

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Chapter Eight

There's Some Hype

1

A crumpled up paper ball that once held a sandwich tumbled down the street and landed beneath Benny's shoe while he sat on the park bench, blankness in his eyes. One leg crossed over the other, his Pod's laser sheathed from scanning the last window, and so he put his hands in his pockets and slumped, exhausted. Still, this was his favorite time of the day, watching the overarching shadows lurk across the far wall as the sun set. Two dead horizons came; the one over the wall, and the one where the world halted its daytime, dead quiet as a pile of bones, and the hiss of cold air drawing through his fur.

It began to rain. It speckled and washed the grime on his coat.. He watched the water slide across the slick grounds until it found its way towards a drain in the middle of the road, where it'd be recycled and refined into what they drank. Scoffing, he looked up to the sky, what little was still visible, losing himself in mystery for a blissful moment.

Flash flood. He could've sworn the clouds weren't that dark. He could've sworn nobody predicted this. The weather app on the Pod would've made an alert. One thing going wrong was easy to shrug off, but when a bunch of anomalies set off all in line, and watch the world sing off-key.

The paper under his shoe was breaking away. The drops pelted harder. And amidst all that was the distinct wail from a higher floor. Open window, pot of flowers, just the right trajectory for the rain to do it well. So he turned away, but the wailing prevailed, nearly lost in the monsoon.

It'd take a while.

That flower pot...

He got up the second he recognized it.

2

you shouldn't have messed up because you shouldn't have gone outside because you should've gotten a job because you shouldn't have messed up because you shouldn't have gone outside because you shouldn't have

Hurting, Rodney jammed the last chair against the door and sighed heavily. Muscles sore, the panic raged on as he paced back and forth, every three seconds staring at the window. Sweat matted his clothes so hard it was indistinguishable from being outside right now. Thunder cracked, and it startled him, too; he whimpered, feeling tormented that it wasn't the final moment of capture, but still a promise of the worst. He ran to the cabinet and stuffed his mouth with a couple granola bars, its caramel-chocolate taste doing nothing whatsoever.

because you shouldn't have gone outside because you should've gotten a job because you shouldn't have messed up because you

A pounding knock on his door. Rodney flinched and fell silent.

SHOULD'VE GOTTEN A JOB BECAUSE YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE MESSED UP BECAUSE YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE GONE OUTSIDE BECAUSE YOU

"Hello?" said that unmistakable baritone voice.

Surprised, Rodney gulped the granola down and leaned into the peephole to make sure it was him.

"I-I don't know why you're here, but, I'm sorry, and-"

"Sounds like you needed a friend."

_shouldn't have gone outside because you should've gotten a job because _

Still, he couldn't argue with that.

"I did a bad thing, Benny," he wailed. "I did a bad, bad thing, and I need you to stay as far away from me as possible."

"Bad shit happens."

Just like that, the loop of thoughts had suddenly stopped. He's right. No one had come through his door, or his window.

"I messed up my Social Credit," he admitted. "You shouldn't be around me."

For some reason, he heard a snicker. "It's cool." He wasn't serious, right? He coughed, but he kept waiting.

"I don't get it," Rodney said, a little calmer this time. "It's not cool. It's terrifying. I'm terrified, Benny, all I want is some peace and quiet!"

"Chill."

It made him nod, take some deep breaths. He had stopped pacing and was now standing in his sweat, gasping back tears. No responses came to mind. After a minute, another muffled call through the door:

"C'mere."

Rodney decided to move some of the objects out of the way to crack the door open. Benny looked placid on the other side, even from the rain and the suit tears. He craned a finger out, so Rodney stepped out. That's when Benny pulled him into a hug. Rodney gave in, remembering how oddly affectionate he was in Tier Four, as well, and how relieved he felt to know that hadn't changed.

Benny then nodded down the hallway to the elevator. "I'll show you somethin'."

And of all moments in his life to be reluctant, this was one. He asked himself, what choice do I have? But when nothing came to mind, he followed him out.

3

Grim was the color of District Nine's main plaza tonight. All the lights were out, and one heavy snore out an open window summed it up. In the morning, it smelled of experimental cinnamon-vanilla candles or sugared fruit kebabs you could win from a trivia. Here, you'd see the most eccentric suits; pink, yellow and aquamarine behind the counters, the last time you'd see them smile before next autumn where they were sure to ascend to Tier Two. Now, the yellow, red and purple banners were drowned in a neutral indigo. Water streamed down the overheads that shielded the vegetable markets, flower pot sales now all sold out, Casual Friday striped-tie stands and old eighties cartoon video displays, all now with the distinct aura of a lost memory.

Rodney wasn't sure what to make of it. Concrete broke off to square marble tiles just six blocks off the neighborhood road; a much faster route than anything he'd taken. His teeth chattered hard. It's not that it looked bad. It's that nothing was right. Where he'd be swarmed with salesmen, Benny was looking straight down and shuffling his feet across the tiles.

And the whole time, he was silent. Focused. Impossibly dense. Rodney was shivering, hugging himself in the rain, feeling as though his body was ready to take off without its mind. Minutes passed like hours.

He blurted, "What are you trying to find?"

"Shh," Benny hushed. Then he went back to work.

Why are you so difficult? Rodney thought, watching him step between a clothing store and a botanist's menagerie. Slight nod, glint of a grin. He tapped his foot on a tile and pushed it around with his foot. _Clink,_it went. Rodney's ears perked up; Benny, as well, so he knew he wasn't crazy. The big coyote whirled around like an owl, pausing at the slightest noise in the windows above.

Then he knelt down, fingers struggling between the slot. He clearly held a grunt back before he flexed, grit his teeth, and lifted the square up. Sliding ever so gently, he brought it off to the side, set it down, and took a deep breath.

He beckoned. Rodney felt his legs move on their own. Dread. He stared into a square hall in the floor so dark it was like a tile, itself. Only a few steps of the ladder were visible before it descended into maddening darkness.

And with no hesitation, Benny stepped into it.

Rodney rubbed his eyes. "Who built this?"

"Shovels."

Benny was waist deep, then torso, and with the last glint of his eyes, Rodney knew he was next. Knees trembling, he stepped onto the ladder, then climbed down, one step at a time, hesitating.

Keep going, Rodney. Everything's going to be fine.

The bottom was pitch black. Rodney was stuck in place. When he looked far enough, he spotted a scatterplot of little green dots in the distance. He tried to nudge Benny, but felt nothing on his elbow. For a minute, he felt as though they were eyes staring back at him, yet they didn't move a thing, so neither did he. Fear compounded. The lights grew bigger, then smaller, then nothing; a trick of the mind that never settled with him well.

His heart raced again, but when he turned for the ladder, he felt an object with a trigger in his hand. A huge paw on his shoulder. Benny.

Rodney said, "What is-?"

"Shh!"

He whispered: "What is this?"

"Nothin'."

Rodney blinked, confused. The vaguely plastic feel reminded him of something he'd seen in Kung Fu Kitties 2: The Takeover where the heroes constantly dashed away from bullets littering the battlefield. He smoothed his paw across the object, and found the barrel. All his fears were then confirmed.

"What do I do?"

"Shoot."

There's that tremor again. "What?"

"Get 'em."

Rodney shook his head absent mindedly, stammering, "But I can't!"

"Nah."

Rodney fired straight up on purpose. He hunched his shoulders up to cover his ears for the bang, yet saw nothing but a little red dot on the ceiling. And he waited for a fire or an explosion, but nothing came. Nothing at all.

So he fired again. This time, straight out. The first time, he missed. The second time, he missed, but was closer.

"You got this."

On the third time, it hit, and the dot was gone. And if he listened closely, something in the deep was...giggling?

"Benny, I'm scared."

"It's okay."

"It's not okay, Benny, listen to me!"

His big arms squeezed tighter.

"Wh-what am I doing?!"

There's that giggling again. Stronger, this time. Benny's hug didn't evolve much beyond that. The longer he did, the more safe it felt. One deep breath, and he kept shooting. Four, three, two, until every dot was gone, and the gun clattered to his ankles with a sweat drop.

"C'mon," Benny said.

And they ascended the ladder again.

At the top, Rodney caught his breath, ready to fire away with the questions. Benny snapped his fingers and pointed at Rodney's pocket. Hesitating, he took out his Pod and pressed the center button:

Social Credit: 43

** ** It wasn't a lot. Not enough to make him safe, let alone feel the part. But Rodney was speechless. Lightheaded, he felt as though he'd stepped in and out of a glitch in time and swiped the code in his fist. His paw was at his forehead as he gasped for air, but all he squeaked was:

"Uh...thank you."

And he kept staring, expecting the mirage to fade, but it never did.

Cracking his back, Benny took a long whiff. That's when he saw the discolored splotch of dark all around the crotch of Rodney's pants and down his thigh. For the first time, there was a crick in his snout implying he'd done something wrong.

"Sorry," he said. "I'll get pizza."

4

_ _ Contrary to the man, Benny's house was no shock. Same District, same apartment, so of course, the same layout, save for the fact that the door to Benny's room was dead center between the two opening rooms as opposed to the kitchen. On the left was the den where two couches faced each other wall-to-wall, a window and a table between them, but no television. On the right was the kitchen, tan-tiled floors and blue, speckled countertops, fresh fruit next to the coffee maker and blender. It was a good life, like always, and for Rodney, it was good to feel a breath of that same air.

With that, Benny showed him to the bathroom, which was about twice the size of a closet. The steamy shower water didn't help the jitters, but damn if it felt good to get out of his clothes, and even better to leave the Pod behind the curtain. He wept, but kept it soft, and it felt good; then the thought of someone bursting the door open brought the roach back to his stomach.

And in his reverie, he rationalized that Tier Five had a code. The first was kindness-and the chaos it would bring. Either all actions were futile and someone would come to kidnap him when the time was ripe-diabolical, even-or the kindness of Miles and Benny were the only things keeping him from it. And therein lay the most wretched paradox of all-what was there to do when life, itself, remained up to interpretation? Nowhere was safe but the inside of a house. If he could be captured, then what was the difference between that and living life?

He closed his eyes under the plume of water and waited. Suddenly, he heard the Pod rumble. It shuffled and released a green gas. It enveloped the room in a haze that thickened and burned like citrus in the nostrils, lungs like cracked soil, pot of broken flowers and-

Rodney jolted as his fur was blasted with a three-sixty degree wave of fresh air. His tail flickered, arms folded in. No toxins. No gas. Just what happens when the water shuts off. He grabbed the towel and peered at the lifeless Pod as if he expected it to grow legs. It takes a strong dose of fear to feel nothing from relief.

Then he noticed his clothes weren't in the room. Right, he'd left them outside. Or...wait, that made no sense. Benny must've taken them. Rodney grumbled and knocked on the door.

"Benny!"

"What's up?"

"Where are my clothes?"

"Wash."

"You kidding me? Those are my only clothes for the night!"

There was a long pause.

"Whoops."

Rodney groaned hard, paw stiff above the doorknob. He couldn't afford to be this fearful. Benny's a good guy-maybe-but he'd blown all his trust and still got him to crash. Minutes passed. Okay, then. He wrapped the towel around his waist and stormed through.

Smooth chiptune-jazz music whispered from the speakers by the closed window in the den. The lights were out, and the television glowed with a fireplace app; he'd even turned the heat up just to show it. Zig zag patterned pillows lay on the couch's corners, and on its left arm, a pile of work clothes; underwear and all.. Rodney was puzzled.

Then he turned to his left.

He flinched; there Benny was, pink smoothie in a clear glass in paw, nude at the counter as the steam seemingly billowed around him. A lucid grin glimmered as he waded around the countertop, the kitchen's golden light bathing half his body.

"Agh-the heck, man?!"

"Now we're even."

The brown dots on his toned, golden-tan chest and abs looked like constellations falling from the sky-and if that was the case, where they landed was the big dipper. His elbows were patched with tan diamonds that were identical to the ones that stretched from his hips to his thighs on either side. Curled fingers ushered Rodney over to the couch to sit; he took it willfully, frozen still.

"I'm not looking to have sex with you, Benny."

"Fair."

He was an enigma, that's for sure.

"Comfy," a light command as he took the seat across from him, one hand under his chin, the other draped over his crotch. He was a silhouette in the orange glow of the television playing a fire behind him.

Rodney pointed to it. "That's a little, uh..."

No hesitation, Benny turned it off. Rodney looked anywhere else and saw he'd really dressed the place up. Benny's posture was straight in anticipation while Rodney's was slumped. If it took this much to get the picture, why not just say it?

He whiffed the air. The table had an assortment of purple candles on them. _Lavender-Vanilla,_he read.

Why does that sound familiar, he wondered. Is that...wait, did I give that to him for his fifteenth birthday? He kept it all this time?

And between them slid the smoothie. Lips parted, he looked to Benny, who Benny made a drinking motion at it. Okay. Rodney sipped from it; strawberry-banana, its sweet coldness healing from his dry throat to the burning stomach. Huh. That was his favorite back in Tier Four. There was even a cherry on top of a plume of whipped cream.

At least he's making up for it, Rodney thought.

He drank half, and when he looked up, Benny was slowly curling a fifty pound dumbbell to his chest.

Rodney groaned. "Really?"

Benny put it down.

"Sorry," Rodney sighed. "Listen. I'm a little wickered out. I've lost a lot today. My Social Credit went down to the single digits."

Benny whistled.

"I don't get it. This is the worst case scenario for me, and you're treating it like it's no big deal. So, what gives? Are you just gonna stare at me all night?"

Still nothing.

"Can you tell me what that place was?"

"Someday."

Sometimes people say things so flatly, it's hard to tell if they're actually annoyed. But he wasn't. This was patience.

"Did I hurt anybody?" Rodney asked softly.

Benny shook his head.

"Are you sure?"

Nodded.

It made him feel a little more safe. With a smile, Benny stuck his thumb up and pivoted it up and down.

"I think so," Rodney said. "Thank you."

Benny nodded. Silence. It felt easier, now.

"I hate Pods," Rodney admitted.. "See, I can't leave home without it, but-"

The front door burst open, Asher's fist in the wake.

"DO YOU KNOW WHY THERE ISN'T A TIER NEGATIVE THREE?!"

He strided inside, shaking digits an inch from a fist, an evil eye that matched the pearly whites of his grit teeth. Rage. Pure rage.

Rodney was terrified. "No," he gulped.

"Because," Asher clenched two fists at him, "there's no such thing as creating new people! It doesn't work like that! Ask me, ask you, ask your friends, ask your anybody, what were to happen if I'd clone myself into a being of pure light energy and stepped outside my cage into the land of mushrooms and soil-eating orphans how salty the sacred piss stream tastes! Well I tell you, sir, I wouldn't be Six or Nine or Eighty-Seven or any other fucking number you'd associate me with! As far as I'm concerned, it should stay that way! Whatever happens to their feelings about the ground and the sky and the aforementioned piss river is what lies within the golems of Bartholomew and the Candyland investigators!"

Rodney blinked twice. "I don't get it."

"Not you!" He pointed dramatically. "This one!"

Benny shrugged innocently. Asher only looked up and down him for a second, but it was enough to see a noticeable drop in his rabbit face.

"You!" he yelled, getting in Benny's face. "You walking mudbrick-meathead incendiary artifact! Do you have any idea what act you've just committed?! Oh, The Master Brain would be so irate!"

"Nah."

"Don't you flap your lip in my direction! If you had a thousand javelins to throw at whatever you wanted, you should've shoved them all up your ass at the same time before you ever interfered with this! This is slander, this is hopeless, this is everything wrong with Uquaria aside from it being blown to smithereens by a strawberry shortcake that's been sitting on the counter for six years straight! If I could even slightly afford to kick you out of this country right now, I wouldn't even wait for the sunset, I'd just shoot lasers out of my eyes and explode your retinas until the cytoplasm pours out of your eyes like trying to drink from the far side of a glass of milk. You hear what you've done to me?! I have night vision because of you! Nothing will ever be the same! Imagine the voices from everywhere you can see except the one between your boots and ankles, good Blocks, if they get any louder, I will personally run all the way down to District Twenty-Four and swipe their finest superglue to make sure you and your underwhelming hobknocker never leave the bed again! If any of this gets out, you bet your bottom silverware drawer it'll have your name on it, and I will make sure that you never see it again! I'll ring you and your Pod dry before you've even realized you've lost any blood! Understand?!"

Benny snickered. "Bitch."

Screeching, Asher bent back in a U with his head clamped tight. He looked around, teeth grit so hard they'd turn to dust, and spotted an empty paper towel roll. One swipe, and he raised it like a blade to Benny's chin, body shaking all the while.

"You call me that one more time," he spoke gravely, "and I will annihilate you."

Rodney blinked three times. "Asher, that's a paper towel roll."

Asher circled his finger around it. "I will wrap your intestines around this thing and eat it like it's cotton candy!"

"Asher, no!"

"Don't!" Asher shoved his palm out to him. "He needs to understand what he's done."

"Cool it, man, I didn't see a thing. Benny just wanted to help with a spooky situation, and he did the right thing."

Asher shot him a look. "There is no such thing as 'the right thing!' Who do you think you are?!"

"I'm just a guy who needed help!"

"And what of it?!"

That stopped him. "It's not important."

"Tell me," he poked the roll at Benny's neck, "or he dies."

"Wh-"

"Tell me!"

"I don't under-"

"RELEASE YOURSELF!"

"All right, all right, I used a dark line!"

Asher was puzzled. "You what?"

Oh shit. The next sentence. Asher had a sharp tongue; he couldn't risk someone like that knowing such damning information. Rodney never lied, but in his panic, now's the time.

"I'm, uh...an erotic roleplayer. Every night I use a dark line to go over the global network so the Tier Ones won't hear me," he cleared his throat, "y'know, whackin' the weeds?"

Asher paused for an unnecessary amount of time. "What?" He lowered his mighty sword. "Dude, everyone does that."

Rodney: "Huh?"

Asher: "Jacking off."

Benny: "Nah."

"Zipperlips. Proceed."

Rodney said, "Well, that's half the problem. The other's just being bogus at everything. Ever since I got to Tier Five, I've been feeling spacey and vulnerable-heck, I've gained a ton of weight, even."

"Even The Master Brain itself flaunts its roundness."

"Awesome. Fact is, I can't wander around all by myself. I need someone like Benny who'd put me in my place instead of being some cricked-up loser-goober chilling out at the crib all day until the night falls and I'm back to rubbin' off again. If the only way out was to trust a strong, kind, hella competent coyote to lock me in some grody, dark, foreboding room until I doused enough lights with a laser pointer, then I wouldn't make a narc out of him unless he actually spills the beans. That cool?"

The silence felt like it stretched on for hours, but the looks on everyone's faces stayed the same.

Finally, Asher coughed. "Yeah, that's just kinda kinky."

Ding dong!

_ _ The doorbell. Rodney and Asher weren't expecting anyone else, but they both jolted as without a second thought, Benny answered it.

"Pizza!" the lemur said, a black mask of fur around white that surely would've reddened as his mouth hung open, staring at a nude Benny, a toweled Rodney and a disheveled Asher, all wide-eyed and frozen. His tail curled in a question mark, but the crotch of his pants grew in an exclamation.

Still, Benny pointed at the box, eyebrows raised to Asher. "Pizza?"

The mad hatter was still fuming. Rodney expected him to bolt. Inch by inch, the jitters calmed down, until the time-bomb-that-could've finally subsided with a shrug.

"Yeah, sure."

Rodney couldn't believe how deadpan it was. He watched in disbelief as Benny paid for the pizza, set it down at the table, opening it up, the room progressively growing quieter. Asher then pulled a carrot out of the refrigerator and snapped it in halves while he approached his slice. He took his seat next to Rodney on the couch, sprinkling the carrot pieces onto it, breathing the heaviest possible sigh, as if, beyond all expectations, they didn't land in a perfect smiley face. His eyelids were heavy and bored, looking at the two nude men around him for a good minute.

And without a single change on his expression, he took off his pants.