FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

He stared at the bunnies as they moved between the tables. They seemed so... Life-like? Of course they were life-like, they were alive! But what was it about them that he couldn't put his finger on as they went about in their traditional, black-satin uniforms? Was it the way they walked, not like animated dumbies, but real... women? Was it the way they smiled at the customers, as if they actually ment it? Or the way they flirted back, the way their eyes twinkled when some gin-soaked patron made vaguely complimentary crude remarks, as if they could accept the spirit of the comment and ignore the poor delivery? Or the way he felt when he looked at them, anxious and protective like a school boy, all lonesome inside....

He mentally slapped his wrist. He was here to do a job. He'd not let these... these damned, black-leg furries get to him! He'd see what he'd come to see, report it, then never come back unless it was to... Never mind, he'd burn that bridge when he came to it. Meanwhile he reviewed some mental notes.

When Thyme/Crier had bought the famous magazine they hadn't wanted the mansion, but their maker had had family when he died and they'd insisted that white elephant was part of the package. It sat all but empty for years, a historical site and undemolishable. Then they'd been approached by the new Genetech division of Zen/Maizier, who'd had a product they wanted to anounce with a special flourish.

The Bunnies went from lab rabbits to a legal no-mans-land, mined with emotional charges that rivaled capital punishment and abortion. Everyone from the ACLU to the Teamsters to the Vatican and every university money could buy in between made representations to Congress. No laws could govern furry rights then. None could yet....

#

"Mr. Smith?"

He looked up, into the gentle smile of a bunny.

"My name is Tabatha. I'll be serving you this evening, unless you wanted a certain bunny. If you do, I can arrange it."

"Uh... no, ah, that's fine."

Her smile warmed at that. "Please call me Tabby, then. May I bring you something from the bar, or are you ready to order now? giggle Or both?"

a bottle of beer, please, and, ah...."

"I'll give you a little more time to decide," she said, without a trace of patronization, and turned. She wiggled as she walked. Her cotton-ball tail wiggled with her. Uncanny! That was the word to describe her. But uncannily what?

#

The beer was premium. The steak was blood rare; they'd made it tender somehow, and they hadn't even change the taste. The baked potato was perfect, the peas and carrots were tasty and crunchy, the apple pie had a wedge of old, sharp cheese and the coffee came with a little pitcher of cream. The floor show was a pretty skunk morph with a heart-breaking voice singing love songs in French, accompanied by a sampling synthesizer. (Didn't Thyme/Crier pay anyone union scale?)

And all through dinner there was Tabby. Somehow she was just there when he wanted another beer or another coffee or some water. She made a show of serving him just so, as if he were the house's oldest, most important customer. When that pretty skunk sang a torch song that always got to him, Tabby crouched beside him and enjoyed it with him. She sniffled and dabbed at her own eyes before offering him a tissue; she'd looked so embarassed over it that he hadn't been.

But when he picked up his cheque from the little, black tray she'd brought it on, there was something else there, too; a plastic card, about the size of a business card, with a magnetic stripe on the back and a bar code opposite it. It bore a pleasant musky scent. The front held a picture of Tabby and her room number. Beside these she'd written a message.

"Jamie; I get off work at ten. Please come up and see me. I like you, you're nice. Tabby"

Jamie was his name; he'd reserved the table as Bill Smith!

#

The wolf at the elevator door glanced at him as he slid tmagnetic stripe through a reader slot, smiled tolerantly and looked away when it worked. The upstairs halls were panelled in oak; the mansion was old enough that it was probably real. There were bar code readers in front of each door, except for two rest rooms. There was a women's room as well as a men's; Jamie decided not to wonder why.

The reader beside Tabby's door accepted the card. The bedroom was generous; roughly two hundred square feet, he guessed. There was a set of double doors, the kind used for closets, so the third door must be an on-suite bathroom. The wallpaper and the decor were pink and white; it matched the white of her fur, the pink inside her ears. The queen-sized bed was ticked in powder blue, though, like her eyes. The rest was maple, lightly stained, very good quality; there was a coffee table and chairs, a vanity and a chest of drawers. A wardrobe belied the closet. Everywhere there were Polaroids, a few of other bunnies but most of men, variously undressed, with her and alone. He examined the ones on the vanity. A familiar musky scent came from one of her perfume bottles. He examined it, but there was no label.

"It's my own scent," came a voice from the door. "I like to put a drop on my door cards, it makes them more personal.

"Jamie Mullens," Tabby recited, teasingly, as she closed her door. "Representing the IWW and People Not Furries. giggle I'm glad you came, Jamie," she added, soberly. "We have a lot to talk about."

"How did you know my name?" Jamie Mullens demanded.

Tabby giggled and wagged a finger. "We've been keeping tabs on you," she replied, her voice teasing again. "You've been a member of the Wobblies for three years since you lost your last job. You've worked in the tracking office at People Not Furries for a little more than one year keeping tabs on poor, innocent people who haven't done a thing to you, but you've only watched those who've knuckled under to the group, not the ones they want to hurt some more. You've never hurt anybody for them though and you're here tonight for the IWW. Otherwise we wouldn't have let you in the club!"

As she spoke, she slowly approached the young man. Within arm's each now, she put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "You're a Catholic," she went on. "You work part time at the church and do odd jobs to help your mother. You've lived her with since your last job. Jamie, you're such a nice guy!" she added, concern in her voice and features. "Why would you want to belong to a terrorist group like PNF? They're very violent, hateful people! You're not like them."

"And how would you know what kind of guy I am?"

"I served you. I can tell," and she sang a bar of the torch song that had upset him before. "Jamie," she added, (as he started to blush), "would you mind if I changed? I like my work, but the costume is a little tight. And could you unbutton me, please? It's quicker that way."

Jamie looked as if he'd been poleaxed. "I'll... uh... just wait outside...."

No," she said, quickly grabbing his hand. "Please stay. It's okay, I have a fur coat on underneath, remember? Really, nothing shows, especially from behind. Please, Jamie?"

Mullens hemmed and hawed and shuffled his feet. Tabby held his hand and gave him a vulnerable-little-girl look. "Awright," he said, finally, "turn around." She did so; he started at the top.

She'd understated how tight her costume was; he had to fight to get enough slack to undo her buttons! He knew he was pulling the soft, silky fur underneath; he couldn't help it. Tabby flinched, but she kept still and never complained. A familiar smell rose from the costume as it came undone, lightly musky like a new fur coat with an undertone of perspiration; the same as the scent on her room card. The last button was at the base of her cotton-ball tail; he had to push it aside. The fur there was downy, very soft and thick.

When the last button was undone, Tabby immediately pulled the costume down and stepped out of it, releasing a gust of her scent. She took a deep breath, raising her arms above her head, and turning towards the closet. This gave Jamie a view of her front. Sure enough, there was thick fur in her cleavage that hid the shape of her breasts and that between her legs was the same colour as the rest of her. She sighed gratefully and rubbed her sides as she went to the closet. She put on a pink robe with powder blue trim, then returned to her guest. Jamie was still looking her over, fascinated by her form.

"I can leave my robe off if you want to look...."

Jamie blushed and looked way, putting his hands before him. Tabby giggled prettily at the display.

"Please have a seat, Jamie," she said, indicating the coffee table. "We have a lot to talk about."

"I don't know what I have to say to a furry blackleg."

Tabby seemed hurt by the remark, and disappointed. "You came to observe the mansion in operation," she replied, seriously. "You must have a lot of questions. You're here so that I can answer them. Would you like some water or coffee before we start?"

"Uh, no, thanks," he replied, taken aback by her sudden change in tone. He sat, while she opened the wardrobe. It contained a large, flat-screen TV hooked to a computer terminal and converter with a reply module as well as several books, CD-ROMs and data cards. There was also a coffee maker, mini-frige, microwave and small water chiller; Jamie noticed the water bottle said Perrier. Every flat bit of space was taken up with Polaroids. Like the ones on the walls, they showed human men and a few other furries. One could have been the wolf he'd passed on the way up. He also saw the camera that had taken them and several packs of film.

"You, ah, like pictures."

"They're some of the customers I've invited up here. I keep them to remember my friends."

"Friends?" He looked around the room. "You have an awful lot of friends!"

"I've made love with quite a few customers," she said, as she poured water into a pitcher and gathered glasses. "Some of them, the nice ones, I remember. I think of them when life gets rough, it helps to remember the ones who loved me when I have to deal with rude or nasty customers."

"I guess some of the johns can be rough."

Tabby froze at that. She picked up a Polaroid of a man with dark skin, hair white and sparkling eyes. "I'm no prostitute," she said, her voice near choking. "I don't have to bring customers up to my room. I do because I like to. I was made to be affectionate. The mansion knows I'll entertain their customers, they don't tell me who to bring up. Sometimes I make a bad choice...." She put down the photo and turned part way back, but couldn't quite face him. "I'm not a robot, Jamie! I have feelings, you can hurt me!" Her long ears had sunk to half-mast. She bowed her head and shivered, as if frightened or in pain. "It hurt when you called me a prostitute."

Jamie couldn't look at her, nor could he look away for long. "Well... well what do you expect me to do about it?" he replied, with anger that he didn't feel. "Kiss it and make it better?"

Tabby just shivered a little.

"What the hell do you want with me?"

"I want you to understand me!"

"Understand...." Jamie repeated. "How could I understand something like you? You're not even human!"

Tabby turned on him, her ears flat against her head, horror in her face. Jamie looked into her eyes. They were uncannily human, robin's egg blue, in a face that was a parody of a woman's, or maybe of a rabbit's. Now he saw her eyes, saw the pain that he'd put there. He looked away, his face hot. "I'm sorry," he muttered.

Tabby sat down, her ears relaxing, but not erecting yet. "But you're right," she said, sadly. "I'm not a human, like you. I'm not an animal, either. What am I, Jamie?"

"How would I know? I'm not God, I don't know things like that! You're a... a furry!"

"But what _is_ a furry? I'm not an animal, I'm not a human. I'm something new, aren't I?"

"Uh... well... I guess so, it sounds right."

"Then you're wrong, Jamie. You are a god."

"What?"

"Human's created furries like me. Isn't creating new forms of life the role of a god?"

For a moment, Jamie stared at her, unable to answer. "I'm no god!" he exclaimed, at last. "I never had any part in creating your kind! I'm, I'm... just a man!"

"But human scientists did. Are they more god-like than you?"

"Well... no! They're just humans like any other!"

"Then you're as much a god as they are, and they created me, and creating new life forms is something gods do. Oh Jamie," she added, giggling, her ears at attention, "you should see your face!

"Think of it this way. Any man and woman can make a baby, can't they? Beyond the practical, what's the difference between that and making a new kind of creature? They're both new life, aren't they? Isn't it really just a matter of scale?"

"Scale! It's a completely different thing! It's... it's unnatural! It's beyond... beyond...."

"It's beyond what a man and a woman could do without help?"

"Yes!"

"But so are the various ways you use to help couples to have babies who can't."

"No, that's a different thing! This is... I don't know what!"

"Beyond your own species?"

"Now you've got it! It's... what's the word... bestiality!"

"Bestiality is having sex with an animal. What you've done is make babies with another animal, bunnies in my case. Having sex with an animal is wrong because the animal _can't_ say no. Why is it wrong to make babies with another animal? The first of my kind were born from artificial wombs, after that from each other's."

"You think that makes a difference? It's still wrong!"

"Well then why is it wrong?"

"It's not natural!"

Tabby giggled. "Is it natural to wear clothes? Is it natural to take plants and plant them together to make it easier for you to gather them? Is it natural to stay near a fire, no less to make one? Is it natural to ride on top of another animal, or in a box made of purified metal, or to fly, or to live in a big, concrete cliff with hundreds of other people whom you hardly know?" She giggled again and took his hand across the table. "Humans have been moving farther and farther from what's natural for them for several thousand years, silly! But you like having a warm place to live in and lots of food to eat and medicine to make you better when you're sick. I bet you wouldn't want to go back to living out in the open without even a tent, hunting and gathering what food there is and most of your babies and elders dieing of disease or being eaten by lions.

"You're scared, aren't you Jamie? I can feel your pulse, it's racing, and you're tense. Do I scare you, Jamie?"

He took his hand back and scowled. "It's still not the same! All that, that's, it's for the benefit of humanity. Making furries, that's something else, it's... it's a perversion of nature!"

"Oh, and breeding animals isn't? No domestic sheep could survive without humans to tend and sheer it, just for one example."

"Wait a minute, now you're comparing making furries to breeding animals. Before you compared it to making babies and before that to being God. Make up your mind, just which one is it?"

"All three, and more. It's like breeding animals

because you change their nature to make what you need of them. But now you've given animals sentience, like yours. Making sentient creatures is like making a baby, because human babies are sentient. We furries are your children, in just the same way that you are the children of your god. It's not impossible, Jamie! Humans have been using science to give yourselves more god-like powers for hundreds of years, thousands depending on how you define science. But this time," she added, wagging a teasing finger, "your chickens have come home to roost. You have the consequences to deal with; furries like me!

"I don't blame you for being scared," she added. "I guess I'd be scared too if I'd learned that I'd blasphemed against my god and gotten several baby races to raise. But please Jamie, don't take your fear out on me. It really hurts when you insult me and push me away!"

"You're changing the subject!" Jamie complained. "You don't understand, it's not that at all!"

"What, then?"

"I'm... well... you're... damn it all!"

Tabby nearly fell over laughing. "You want me! You're afraid of feeling desire for me! Oh Jamie, you silly!" She crawled over the table and embraced him, her head submissively under his chin. "Poor Jamie," she cooed, her voice still full of laughter. "I promise not to let you touch me unless you want to. If you touch me against your better judgement I'll slap your hand! Does that make you feel better? Can we be friends instead?" She pulled away to face him. "Please Jamie, I want so much to like you, you're a nice guy."

Mullens could hardly speak. "You said before that you wanted me to understand you," he muttered.

"I do, but you'll never understand if you won't trust me. If you trust me, doesn't that mean I'm your friend?"

"I, uh... and no, uh, bedroom, uh...."

"Only if you want to."

"Well... but what if I want to and you don't?"

"I always want to," she replied, with a mild leer. "I was made to be affectionate."

"Hardly seems fair," he mumbled, still taken aback. "Um, could you go back across, uh...."

"I'm sorry, Jamie," she said, moving back to her side of the table. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"You didn't upset me, it's just, I was...."

"I know, I felt it."

Jamie blushed; Tabby giggled prettily.

"What did you think wasn't fair?"

"Huh?"

"You said it hardly seems fair. Do you mean it's not fair that I was made to be affectionate?"

"Oh, yeah, that's what I ment, yeah." He stopped for her to explain again, but this time she waited for him to go on. "It's not right, is it, you being a slave to what we made you to be. Is it?"

"You'll have to judge that, Jamie, I can't. I'm inside the experience, it seems perfectly natural to me. I know that I like the way I am, caring about the people I serve and the ones I bring to my room, and wanting to be touched and have people like me. It hurts a lot when a customer or a lover or a friend is angry at me, but it feels wonderful when they're happy. I feel good about myself and the whole world! Someone told me that humans feel that way, too, but not as much. Why did you make me to need approval so much, Jamie?"

"I didn't.... I mean, I don't know. I guess so that you'd be a better waitress and hook... entertainer."

"You didn't call me a hooker. Thank you, Jamie! But that's just cynicism; you're blaming the company that owns me for caring about profit more than morality, and that's how companies are made to be. They wouldn't have me this way if it didn't fill their customer's needs. You said it yourself, humans do things like breeding animals for their benefit. What human need could bunnies like me fulfil?" and again, she waited for him to reply.

"This is like being back in school!" he muttered. (Tabby giggled and nodded her head.) "Well, you said you're affectionate, and, uh, you said that humans are like you, only not as much...." He looked to Tabby, who only nodded. "Um, so, maybe we need affection?" She nodded, enthusiastically, but still said nothing. "And, uh, and we're, uh, we're not getting it from each other?"

"Yes, exactly! You created bunnies to give you the simple, unconditional affection that you don't show to each other!"

"Wouldn't it be better if we just showed it to each other?"

"Again, Jamie," she replied, seriously, "I can't answer that for you. Maybe it's too dangerous for you to be open with each other; perhaps because of venerial diseases, since I'm immune to anything you could get. Maybe you really don't like each other. Maybe it's yourselves that you don't like and you need someone who won't turn you away to help you feel better about yourselves. In any case, even if I knew, it wouldn't be my place to tell you. I'm just a bunny."

"Now don't say that! You're not just a bunny! You're smart, maybe... maybe more than I am. Well, you are! And you're clever, and nice, and... and what's so blamed funny?"

Tabby held her sides and rocked back and forth, laughing hysterically. "You... oh, you are! A minute ago I was a blacklegging furry and now you're angry because I'm belittling myself!" Still laughing, she came around the table and knelt beside him. "Jamie, may I give you a hug, please?"

Mullens held his bunny tightly and petted her ears as he would a pet rabbit. Tabby got over her laughter and was soon purring contentedly under his chin. At last she pulled away again to face him. "Come with me, Jamie," she said.

"Where?"

"I'm going to show you around mansion. I want you to meet some of the other bunnies and see for yourself how we live."

Tabby lead Jamie Mullens out of her room and down the hall. One door was open as they rounded a corner where a man and a bunny stood embracing, their mouths pressed together in a deep kiss. Tabby stopped to watch, cuddling against Jamie's side; Jamie looked away and blushed. He looked back when the man demanded to know what the hell he was staring at. He was about to complain that he wasn't staring at anything, that it was Tabby who'd stopped to watch, but the other man's bunny leaned up and whispered something in his ear. He looked at Jamie strangely and hurried away.

"Wait a minute," he called to the other bunny, "what did you just tell him about me?"

"I told him you're a VIP here to inspect us," she replied, "and you only wanted to be sure he was satisfied." She giggled, her laugh remarkably like Tabby's. "In a way it's true, isn't it? You are here to 'inspect' us!"

"Don't let Samantha bother you," Tabby said. "She likes to tease, but she doesn't mean it hurtfully."

"Uh, well," Mullens tried to reply. "You shouldn't've...."

"I'm sorry Jamie," Samantha interrupted. She came out and put her arms around his neck, gave him a peck on the cheek and giggled at his expression. "Gotta get cleaned up," she told them, and retreated to her room.

"Now you know two bunnies," Tabby remarked, as they continued down the hall. "What did you notice?"

"Uh," Jamie remarked. "This really is getting to be like school!" he complained. (Tabby just smiled a smile disturbingly like Sister Mary Martine's in English class!) "Uh," Jamie tried again. "She looked almost exactly like you."

"Almost?"

"Uh, well... I think she was a little bit shorter."

"No, we're all the same height to within seven millimeters, hardly enough for you to notice unless your vision is excellent. She doesn't stand up as straight as I do, that's why she seemed shorter."

"Oh. Um... I think she was a little thinner?"

"Possibly, Samantha hasn't been eating well lately."

"Has she been ill?" Jamie replied, concern in his voice.

For the first time, Tabby seemed reluctant to talk about it. "It's really not important," she replied, defensively. "What else did you notice about us?"

"No, wait, is she all right?"

This time Tabby positively hesitated! "Jamie," she said, her voice nearly impatient, "it's... it's very private. You'll find out later, but right now we need to take it one step at a time. Please."

Jamie's look was full of concern, but he nodded. "Um, other things, um... her laugh, it was almost exactly like yours. But she didn't act like...." He paused; they were passing Samantha's door now and there were noises within. They were muffled by the thick wooden door, but they seemed to Jamie almost like weeping. He looked at Tabby, who was gazing with concern at the door. She finally saw him watching, but shook her head no. "...Um, she didn't act like you," he said, completing his earlier thought. (Tabby smiled, a rather hollow smile but one that demanded further answer.) "I, uh, can't really put my finger on just how."

"She's more forward than I am," Tabby replied. "Samantha anticipates people's actions and reacts first. I can usually judge my customer's needs too, but I like to wait for them to need first. That way it doesn't seem as if I'm all over them. Some people like to be teased, though."

"You're different, um, two different people, but you look exactly the same, or almost."

Tabby smiled broadly. "That's exactly right!" she declared. "We're tight clones, Jamie; the lab where we were produced permitted as little drift as possible in our genes. Any mutation when we have litters is taken out. But you've seen that we still grow up to be individuals...."

"Wait a minute! Taken out? What does that mean?"

Again, Tabby hesitated. "They're not allowed to reproduce."

For a moment, Jamie just stared, as if the obvious answer to his question was impossible. "You mean, they're castrated?"

Tabby looked him straight in the eye, with the first real anger he'd seen in her yet. "Sometimes. Sometimes they're merely given vasectomies or tubal ligations. Occasionally they're destroyed if they're too different from what the buyers want."

"You," Jamie said. "You had a baby that was...." He couldn't complete the thought.

"After that I was given a tubal ligation," Tabby replied. "Jamie, I don't want to talk about that, please, come with me."

Jamie nodded and followed, shaken. "You're all the same," he said, trying to change the subject, "but you grow up to be different people anyway."

"Not entirely," Tabby went on, still distracted. "We share some character traits. We're all affectionate, we all frighten easily and none of us like being alone for long, except when we're depressed or frightened. Aside from that, though, we're very different. All the bunnies say I'm thoughtful, some even say that I think too much. I like to study new things, talk about ideas and so on. Sammy isn't very interested in that sort of thing. She's more affectionate than most of us. Usually," she added, sadly. "She likes to watch comedy shows and movies on television in the den and cuddle up with someone, quite often another bunny."

"Uh, pardon... the den?"

"It's our common room, that's where we're going now."

#

At the end of the corridor there was a door marked "Employees Only". Tabby took a card from the pocket of her robe, similar to the one she'd given Jamie. She waved it in front of the barcode reader and the door unlocked. A wave of lepine/human musk wafted over them as it opened. Tabby seemed to relax a bit at the scent, but Jamie's hand tensed in hers.

"What's wrong?" she asked, turning.

"Um... bit smelly," he muttered, his face reddening.

"You've never been in a rabbit hutch?" She giggled a little at his expression. "You'll get used to it after a minute or two."

The room they entered had a lower ceiling than the rest of the mansion. The carpet was deep pile and the furniture large and overstuffed. The light was subdued, indirect, the wallpaper a dark pattern. It was musty and very warm. A television was on in one corner; the sound was low and the picture dimmed. There were seven bunnies in the room already. Five were curled up on a sofa together by the TV, casually petting each other as they watched a soap opera. The other two sat in a love seat, their legs entwined, talking softly but animatedly about something Jamie couldn't hear. All looked up as the two entered. Their expressions, friendly at first, quickly became guarded as they saw the human among them.

"This is Jamie Mullens," Tabby announced. "He's a lot nicer than we thought," she added, smiling confidently. "Plaisir D'Amour makes him cry."

Jamie turned to Tabby and opened his mouth, aghast that she'd told them about his weakness. Before he could say anything, the other seven bunnies had come and were introducing themselves. Two hugged him and kissed is cheek as they did. One with a roving eye kissed his mouth and touched him as they hugged in a way that made him gasp. One needed Tabby to reassure her before she gave him her hand to shake.

"Jamie," one of them asked, "why does the IWW hate us?"

"We... well... I mean, it's not that we hate you. I mean, we don't even know you...."

"But they're the most vocal. Trade labour unions all seem to hate furries! We haven't done anything to them."

"You're taking away our jobs!"

"No we're not," another bunny said. "We're industrial tools, just like computers, or automatic lathes."

"Don't say that! You're people, like, like...."

Tabby put an arm around his waist. "I told you he was nicer than we thought!" she declared. "As far as the business sector is concerned, we're just tools. That's what all employees are; as you should know, Jamie, being a unionist. Furries are employees without legal status. We don't have to be paid, consulted or given benefits, nor provided safe working conditions, not even breaks. Lee, tell him about the Commodyne plant."

The bunny named Lee shuddered; two others immediately put their arms around her. "Commodyne hired me to be a waitress at their stockholders' meeting at their new plant in Chicago last year. The caterers and I came in through the back, so I got a look at part of their shop floor. The assembly area... there were rows and rows of furries, raccoons wearing thin rubber gloves, nothing but a steel bar that ran beside the bench to sit on. The floor was a steel grate with water flowing under it. I couldn't figure out why, until one of them had to go to the bathroom. She wasn't allowed to leave the bench, she just.... And one of them started moaning. A human came with a plastic stick and pushed it into her side and she screamed...."

"Cattle prod," Tabby explained, "I checked."

"One of the caterers caught me there," Lee went on, "and slapped me and told me I was lazy. She told me I was lucky I was in the entertainment business or I'd be down there with them."

The bunnies all stared at Jamie; he stood before them, speechless. "...that's inhuman...." he murmured, at last.

"So are we, Jamie," Tabby replied.

"But... no, not really...."

#

Sammy came in. The other bunnies lead her to a seat; it was plain that she needed one. She looked up at Jamie with haunted eyes when he knelt in front of her. "Will you forgive me this time?" she asked. "I don't feel very affectionate right now."

"Something's wrong," he replied. "You're upset. Can you tell me about it? I want to help."

Sammy smiled weakly up at Tabby. "You were right about him."

"We bunnies are usually kept together," Tabby explained. "We're like a family. Mostly it's a happy one. Sometimes we get to be more than family. We fall in love with each other, romantically. That can become a problem if something happens to one of us.

"You see, the mansion can't have imperfect bunnies serving the customers, it spoils their image. If one of us is scarred badly, they sometimes transfer them to the backroom staff where she can't be seen. If there are no positions back there, they... they euthanize her. They aren't cruel. In fact it's a pretty nice way to go. We try to look forward to it.

"Sammy? Are you up to seeing Becky's tape?"

The bunny nodded, then looked at Jamie. "Would you like.... This can be... moving... would you sit with me so I'll have someone to hold, please?"

Jamie nodded and sat in the big chair with the bunny while Tabby fetched a black video cassette with a gold embossed label.

All the bunnies sat in front of the TV set as Tabby slipped the black-and-gold cassette into the VCR. She turned the brightness and colour and sound up for Jamie's sake, then came and knelt beside him. Sammy, in the chair with him, cuddled up to him and moved his arms around her. The tape began.

#

The camera showed a room with subdued, indirect lighting, but brighter than the den. A psychiatrist's couch stood in the middle of the room. A little man walked into the camera's view with a bunny on his arm. He carried a clipboard under his arm and what looked like a tackle box in his hand. The bunny was naked. She seemed quite calm. Scars showed through the fur on her face and body. More showed on her back and her rear as she sat on the couch. The little man set the box own beside her and looked at the clipboard. He himself had a scar on his face which he fingered absentmindedly as he read. He wore a belted, green robe and black leather slippers. A scar on his chest peeked out at the neck of his robe.

"Subject: Rebecca," he read aloud. "Multiple scars due to lacerations, irrepairable due to excessive cost, depth of scarring, fur replacement unlikely to take, excessively long recuperation. Non-public work is available, but subject opted for termination."

["It was a temporary job," Tabby whispered to Jamie. "She'd only have been postponing this."]

"Becky, you have been given a drug to weaken your heart. The nurse has confirmed that it has left your system and your heart is suitably weak. Are you ready, or do you have a final request?"

"Can I talk to the camera?" The little man nodded. Becky turned and looked out at them. "Sammy, I didn't have a chance to say goodbye. I love you." She hesitated, looking for words. "This is going to be fun, the best ever! I wish it was you instead of him.... They say we don't have souls, but maybe.... I love you, Sammy! I'll always love you." Becky turned and lay on the couch. "I'm ready now."

"Just relax," the man said. "This won't hurt a bit. I'm going to start slowly and build up to the highest climax I can. If anything I do is unpleasant, please tell me at once...."

#

The little, scarred man seemed to know all Becky's favourite spots. At first he merely stroked her gently with his hands. Before long she began to respond to his touch, relaxing with it, enjoying the contact. The man seemed to enjoy the experience himself. His look became fond as he continued to caress the badly scarred bunny.

Very slowly, he began to press harder as he stroked. When Becky started to wince, he eased off. A few of her scars pulled uncomfortably. He took some cream from his tackle box and rubbed it into them, which seemed to help.

Becky began to sigh at his touch. She stroked her breast, but the man moved her hands away. "Too quickly," he said. "We want this to last, to make it build as high as we can." Now his hands were everywhere _but_ her breasts and thighs. He pulled something out of the tackle box and put them on his hands; vibrators. He massaged her feet, moved up her legs to her rear, her side, her tummy. She reached for her breasts again. Now he moved onto the couch himself. He worked his vibrating fingers over the mounds, teasing her nipples up before pressing them, too. But he kept her legs together with his own.

Instead she reached for him. Her hands strayed under his robe and stroked. She undid his belt. Several surgical scars lined his body like a stuffed toy's seams. Becky was past caring; she caressed the horrid, broad lines as he moved his hands down to her lap. She was breathing hard now, although she wasn't moving that much.

Cream on his fingers; he moved a hand to Becky's labia, along them into the folds, still avoiding her clitoris. His other hand went from one breast to the other. Something else from his tackle box; a very thin vibrator rod went into her back passage. She gasped, then let it out in a long, ragged sigh. He gave her a vibrator, moved it to her breast. His hands moved back and forth, one from her clit down into her depths, the other from thighs to labia to clit, every so often adjusting the little devil in her rear.

Becky writhed. She moaned and cried out her pleasure. The little, scarred man encouraged her. Again she reached for his staff, caressed and squeezed it, begged him for it, but he held off the last act. Then she gasped, not in pleasure, but fright. Something had gone wrong! The man noticed and entered her quickly. Now his hands were everywhere as he thrust himself within her. He kissed her lips as she gasped for breath, turned his hand vibrators to full and worked her breasts, the sides of her ribs, everywhere that gave her pleasure. He worked her desperately and she responded; she screamed out a crashing wave of an orgasm. And as the wave subsided, so did she.

The little, scarred man got off of the dead bunny and turned to the camera again. "Euthenasia complete," he said. "Let the record show that death occured at..." He checked his watch. "...eighteen oh nine hours." He hesitated, looked down at the body, sighed. "And may God have mercy on her soul," he muttered.

#

The screen went black. Samantha held Jamie and wept, while he stroked her long ears and wondered what to feel.

Sammy was resting on the couch when Jamie and Tabby left the den. Instead of going back towards Tabby's room, they turned towards the inner passages where only employees went.

"How can you put up with this?" Jamie said, his voice weak.

"As I said, for us this is entirely normal. Intellectually I know that there are other ways to live, but those aren't my ways. I serve customers because I enjoy it. I bring the ones I like up to my room because I need affection and they like giving it to me. I know that, when I die, it will be in ecstasy at the hands of an expert. In the mean time, I'm cared for. I have a purpose...."

"STOP IT!" Jamie practically screamed. "You're talking about it as if it were a way of life! It's not... Dear God, it's slavery!"

"It's what I was bred for. Bunnies have tried to live free, like humans. Most came back, insane from the stress, and had to be euthenized. Two died of heart attacks. One suicided." The bunny laid her hand gently on the human's shoulder. "Jamie," she cooed, "please understand and don't be angry. I'm happy here. I'm fed and cared for, I have a variety of willing lovers, I have the support of my keepers and my peer group, I have intellectual freedom and what ever else I need to be happy. Out there, all I'd have is a job and a place to stay. I couldn't live like that, I'd go mad!"

"It's not right! To breed someone for slavery...."

"Jamie, for Tommy's sake, please don't be angry."

"Tommy?"

"He's the next person I want you to see. He's a male bunny."

#

Tabby clipped a taser to Jamie's belt before they went in. "The bucks aren't entirely stable," she explained. "He won't try to hurt you, but you might have to use this if he loses his grip."

They stood just inside the door. A naked bunny sat on a queen sized bed. No breasts hid under his fur. His body was straight and V-shaped, not curved like a woman's. Otherwise he looked like the doe bunnies; his ears were long and his whole body covered in white fur except for the palms of his hands. Although he was naked, nothing of his manhood showed. He looked up as they came in and smiled.

"Tommy, this is Jamie. I told you about him. He's a lot nicer than we'd expected. Jamie, Tommy is one of our bucks."

Tommy stood, but didn't approach; Jamie came and gingerly offered his hand. The buck's grip was firm. "Pleased to meet you," he said; his voice was pleasing, gentle and sincere.

"Likewise," Jamie replied. "I didn't see you serving below. What do you do around here?"

The buck looked away. "I wait a lot," he said, sadly. "I do serve in the private function rooms sometimes when we have a party of women. Mostly I wait for the occasional woman who wants a bunny."

"That's all you do?"

Tommy nodded. "The rest of the time I'm alone."

"Don't you go to the den with the other bunnies?"

"I can't," he replied. "Uh... could we talk about something else for a while? I'm... I don't often get visitors, and the phone just isn't the same as company. Do you like football...."

Tommy's face went blank and he stared over Jamie's shoulder. When he turned, he saw that it was Tabby approaching. "I'm going to wait outside for a few minutes," she told Jamie, kissed his cheek and patted Tommy's, then hurried out. When Jamie looked back, the buck was shaking.

"What's wrong?" he said.

"...please...." Tommy murmured. He moved a hand to his mound; Jamie watched as seven inches of rabbithood rose to meet him.

"Um, maybe I...."

"Please?" His eyes pleading, Tommy put a hand to Jamie's arm and held it. "It hurts," he begged. "Please, I don't want to.... but it hurts, Jamie, please, I have to! Please, don't make me hurt!"

Jamie swallowed. "What do you want?" he said, nervously.

The buck gently took him in an embrace. His penis rubbed against the fabric of the man's trousers. "No!" Jamie exclaimed.

"I'm sorry," Tommy sobbed. "I have to, it hurts...."

He made the human turn, put his arms around the man's waist, quickly undid his belt buckle, pulled the trousers away. Jamie tried to pull free, but the buck in his mania was too strong. Soon the shorts had fallen to Mullens' ankles, too.

"Forgive me," the rabbit sobbed, still holding his victim by the waist. "Forgive me," as one furry hand went to the butt cheeks. "I'm sorry, I can't help it," as warmth and moisture pressed against, then into Jamie's back passage. Jamie reflexively bent over. The warm firmness eased into him as the bunny sobbed, again and again. He bent further and grabbed his belt. The taser was still there. He pressed it into the bunny's leg. Tommy screamed and flailed; he still held Jamie to him and they both went down. The man found the bunny's upper thigh with the taser. A short cry; something warm spurted into him; the bunny released him and held his own waist. Jamie struggled to his feet, still bent over his assailant. He held the taser into Tommy's solar plexus. He shocked the rabbit's chest and face. Then, shaking badly, he pulled his shorts and trousers up and fled.

"I'm sorry," Tommy moaned, as Jamie ran.

Outside Tommy's room, Tabby was pulling herself up from the floor. She held another taser, which she was putting clumsily in a rack marked "Recharge". Jamie hurried to help her up.

"What happened?" he demanded.

"You... had to use your taser on him?"

"I used the taser, never mind that! What happened to you?"

Tabby swallowed hard. "A buck effects a doe almost as badly as vice versa. I had to shock myself."

"Blessed Saint Mary!" Jamie exclaimed, as he helped her up. "What did you do that for?"

"The pain helps..." (She leaned ackwardly, had trouble unbending, but finally made it up.) "...it helps to clear the mind. Some bucks feel better about it if they can tell themselves they've been punished. I'll be all right in a minute. Are _you_ all right?"

Jamie's face tensed. "It didn't hurt, much," he grunted. "I need a men's room."

Tabby looked her companion over. She tucked in his shirt tail for him. "How far did he go before you stopped him?" Jamie's face was setting into a mask of anger. She put her hands to it and massaged gently. "He honestly couldn't help himself, Jamie," she cooed. "It's our pheromones. It's like a madness, it hurts inside, we desperately need release! Jamie, please forgive him."

The human's face worked; for a moment he seemed near tears. "I need a men's room," he repeated, less severely.

Tabby sighed. "By the time you're through in it, he'll be himself again. He'll need your forgiveness, Jamie. Please?"

#

Jamie took a fresh taser from the rack, although Tabby said he wouldn't need it. She went to the den while he waited outside. A phone rang inside. There was a voice, then two, then the door opened. Tommy looked Jamie in the face for perhaps half a second, then looked away. "Come in," he invited. "Tabby's on the speakerphone."

"Hi, Jamie! " Tabby's voice responded.

"You're in better spirits," he replied, gruffly.

The bunny sighed over the phone. "Tommy, tell him."

"I'm sorry," the buck said. "I never ment to hurt you. If Tabby hadn't come so close.... Tabby, why did you do that? You know what it does to me! Why?"

"I'm sorry, Tommy, but Jamie had to know! Humans will seldom believe what they're told when it's this bad, they need to see it."

"Tabby, I raped him! He couldn't get to his taser in time and I...." The buck sat on his bed by the phone and let out a single sob. "Dear God, Jamie, I'm sorry! You can't understand...."

"Well you're right there, I don't understand! What you did to me.... Blessed Saint Mary, that was no venal sin! You should go to jail for it! And you're telling me the devil made you do it?"

"Not the devil," Tabby replied, "his own body. If a doe so much as comes near him, her scent triggers an intense need for sexual release. His scent does the same to her. It's the company's way of making sure we breed when and with whom we're told...."

"And you did that to him with me in the room?"

"That's why I gave you a taser Jamie," she replied, annoyance creeping into her voice. "Why didn't you use it?"

"I... I was shocked, he caught me by surprise, the way he was begging my pardon and all...."

"Stop!" Tommy begged. "Please, stop waving that in my face! I told you I'm sorry, I couldn't help it, what more do you want of me?" The shuddering buck held his face in his hands and wept openly. "You can't know," he sobbed. "Ever since I reached adolescence I've been in solitary confinement with only occasional humans for company! If I come too near a doe I go crazy! If I come too near another buck I try to kill him! The does get their choice of customers, every night, while I'm up here alone, it's NOT FAIR! IT'S NOT FAIR!" Tommy fell sideways onto the bed, weeping frantically.

"Uh, Tabby...." Jamie told the speakerphone.

"Go to him!" she snapped. "For the love of mercy, go to him!"

Jamie stood before the bed, wondering what to do. For half a minute he stared. Finally he sat at Tommy's head and drew him into his arms. The buck turned and held Jamie desperately, crying onto his shoulder. "I'm holding him," he told the speakerphone. "What now?"

"Pet him," Tabby suggested, "the way you did Sammy."

Jamie stroked the weeping buck's ears. After a while, Tommy let go and sat up. "I'll be okay, I think," he said, weerily, and reached over to the phone. "Tabby? Call me later?"

Tabby agreed and Tommy hung up. "I need to be alone now, I think, try to sleep. Could you...."

The man nodded and headed for the door.

"Jamie?" (He turned.) "I really, honestly couldn't stop myself, you know that. Can you forgive me, please?"

Jamie nodded. "And forgive us our sins," he quoted, "as we forgive those who sin against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil."

#

Tabby bounced up to him as he closed the door. "You know," she said, cheerfully, "you probably saved him from suicide."

"Well fine then. But I hardly heard a note for my pains."

Her good humour disappeared like a magician's rabbit; Tabby all but snarled. "You've seen how he lives. Isn't that punishment enough?" Jamie had no answer. "Come on," she said, "we have the rest of the furries to visit before your tour's done."

#

Tabby had recovered her temper and her usual good spirits by the time they reached the kitchen. Several bunnies were busy there; scrubbing pots and pans, peeling potatoes and similar simple, manual labour. They were all naked; their fur was stained and matted and nasty scars showed clearly through their fur. Several of them looked up as Tabby and Jamie walked in. One bunny, her nose and faced almost halved by a long scar and most of her left ear missing, rushed over to them.

"Tabby!" she exclaimed. "Tabby, I've missed you so!"

"Hi, Silvy," Jamie's guide cooed, as she took the damaged bunny into her arms and held and petted her. "Silvy," she said at last, "this is Jamie Mullens. I wanted you to meet him."

The scullery bunny's remaining ear twitched back. "He's not taking you away...."

Tabby looked at the man and giggled. "No, my dear," she replied, "Jamie isn't taking me away from you. I'm letting him see the mansion."

Silvy's face fell and her good ear twitched back against her head for a moment. They barely whispered to each other briefly, Silvy glancing at the human once or twice. Finally she hugged Tabby close. Jamie made out her whisper, "Be careful," before they parted. Then she turned and gave him a lopsided smile. "I'm very pleased to meet you, Mr. Mullens."

"Likewise, but call me Jamie."

Silvy giggled at that, (the laugh uncannily like Tabby's), and reached out her paw. Jamie took it in both of his, examining a missing digit. "Was this...." he began.

"Oh, no," she replied, "I got this slicing meat...."

Suddenly, three long ears twitched towards a corner. Tabby hustled Jamie through the door. Moments later, a woman in a low chef's hat came into view through the little window in the door. "You weren't supposed to be in there," Tabby murmured to him, over the muffled sounds of the sou chef's raised voice. "Silvy lost her finger in the meat slicer. They don't have safety guards on the equipment the damaged bunnies use. And did you notice how strongly she smelled of herself? They aren't given bathing facilities, they get hosed down when someone thinks...."

Tabby's description was cut short by a sudden scream inside the kitchen. Jamie rushed to the door in time to see Silvy on her knees in front of the human, her forehead on the dirty floor and her rump raised, clawing at the tiles and screaming. The sou chef was grinding the end of a thick plastic rod under her tail. He only saw it for a moment before Tabby grabbed his arm and pulled him away.

#

"I admit I sometimes want to bite them," the wolf morph said, "or growl at them. Then maybe they wouldn't give me a hard time. I have to be polite, of course. On the whole, though, customers here are high class, they don't get drunk and rowdy. It was a lot worse at the place the mansion bought me from. They went bankrupt though, and the sheriff had to sell me and the other goods."

"Joey," Tabby prompted, "tell Jamie about your sleeping quarters here."

"Not much to tell, really," the wolf replied. "We have a den in the basement, some old matresses and blankets, it suites us fine."

"Tell him about the insects."

"Insects?" Joey repeated, and snorted in disgust. "We have to pick the ticks off each other every morning or they'll bleed us dry! The fleas, they're another problem, but the mansion gives us powder every other week...."

"You make it sound like Auschwitz!" Jamie exclaimed.

"Ow... sh-wits?" Joey repeated, quizzically. "What's that?"

"You'd better not ask," Tabby interjected, glancing up. The wolf looked up with her and his face fell.

"Do they treat you okay?" Jamie asked.

"I guess so."

"Compared to what, Jamie?" Tabby prompted.

"I mean, do they feed you? Do they make you... do things?"

The wolf morph bouncer looked stricken and hung his head. "They feed us okay," he muttered.

#

"Eet was much worse by my first ownairs!" the pretty skunk morph replied. "Ah oui, I sang for the customaires, and zen they take me into a back room and.... I prefer not to talk of these things, s'il vous plait. Eet makes me upset, and I do not have time for."

"Time?" Jamie asked.

"Sherri has cancer, Jamie. The Paris club that owned her last never had it treated. It was cheaper to just buy a new skunkette."

"Blessed St. Mary," Jamie muttered.

"Sherri, show Jamie your back."

The skunk morph covered her mouth in horror and backed away.

"Humans only believe what they see, dear."

"It's all right, Tabby, she doesn't have to."

"Non, m'sieur," the skunk replied, her head bowed but her tail and back straight. "Tabbee eez right, I must show..." She took a deep, shuddering breath. "Tabbee, s'il vous plait?"

The bunny went to the trembling skunkette, unzipped her dress and lowered it to her waist. Her generous breasts quivered visibly under the white fur of her chest and belly, outlined by the thick, black fur around them. She gently turned Sherri around. The skunk's composure broke as her back came into view; she held Tabby and sobbed.

She had no fur there, just a single, large, ill-healed burn. Jamie knelt and was violently ill.

#

"Where to now?" Jamie asked Tabby.

"Back to my room, so that we can talk. You've seen a lot tonight, Jamie. What did you think of it all?"

"I can't..." Jamie muttered, holding his head. "It's inhuman, I can't let this go on!"

"What choice do you have?" the bunny replied. "The mansion is private property. So am I, so are the other bunnies, and the wolves, and Sherri. What can you do?"

"There's plenty we can do," Mullens replied. "The union has always been on the worker's side."

"But we're not workers, Jamie, were machinery."

Jamie stopped in his tracks. "Stop saying that! You're not, you're a lot more than.... Well, that's the problem! You're machinery because it's convenient for the company. What you do... well, that's what workers do, so you're really workers. We just have to convince the courts...."

"You mean your union, Jamie?"

"Well of course! They've been complaining that furries are taking jobs from people. If I can just convince them that you are people... Well, that's the whole.... Dammit, why are you laughing?"

"I'm happy, Jamie!" Tabby replied. "We bunnies giggle a lot when we're happy. It won't be easy, you know. Your fellow wobblies aren't going to want to hear that we're not evil, just workers like them. They've put a lot of emotional sweat into hating us."

"Well then, I'll just have to...."

"PSST! Tabby!" came a voice from around the corner. A wolf morph's muzzle emerged part way. Tabby went and stood next to it, listened while it whispered. Her face showed fear, then determination. She hissed something back to the wolf, who nodded and disappeared. Tabby took Jamie's arm and lead him around a corner in the opposite direction. She opened a broom closet door and ushered him inside.

"What's going on?" the human demanded.

"The management is looking for me. They probably suspect I'm doing something with you that they didn't plan. I have to tell you one last thing, then you're going to have to kiss me whether you feel like it or not."

"But what...."

"If they open this door, they have to believe we're having sex, as a customer and a bunny usually would. Jamie, did you wonder why the mansion makes tapes of bunnies being euthenized like that?"

"Um... so that you'd know, or maybe for their records.... ?"

The bunny turned at a sound only she could hear, but the human quickly heard the approaching footsteps, too.

"They sell them, Jamie, as snuff films. Now, quickly...."

Tabby quickly wrapped her arms around Jamie's waist and shoulder and drew him to her with surprising strength. Their lips met and pressed; Jamie opened his mouth to gasp, quickly found a warm, sweet bunny mouth sealing it closed. Her tongue touched, caressed his own. He found himself sucking it in further as he tried to breath. Her scent this close was different, warmer, inviting. He felt heat growing in his loins, felt himself rise, press into her tummy fur. Tabby continued to explore his mouth, stroke his ears, encourage. He held her close, unsure what to do next.

Then the door opened and he saw human faces close up for the first time in hours. There were three of them. They all wore mirror shades. They looked very unhappy.

#

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Jamie said. "Tabby and I were... fucking. I... I like small spaces." But even to him the swear word sounded unaccustomed and the lie improbable.

The man behind the desk in his immaculate, dark suit looked askance at Jamie. Without a word, he pointed a remote at a console behind the unionist and pushed a few buttons. Jamie heard his own voice and Tabby's. He turned; the scene was inside the bunny's room, the camera must have been in the grill above her door. It was their first conversation. A press of another button; there they were in Tommy's room. Another button; Sherri was baring her back again.

Jamie turned back to the man behind the desk. "I get the message," he growled. "You know everything we did. So how come you didn't stop us before?"

"We didn't know until Marsden... the fellow behind you... looked over a wolf's shoulder. It seems that some of our staff are not as loyal as we'd supposed. Tabby's plan was elegantly simple; no chances trying to alter the record her movements, just make us think that nothing was happening until they'd been recorded over. Had we not decided to check up on you, it would have worked."

"But... if it was so important, you'd have been more careful than that.... You've done this before!"

"The bunnies are nearly irresistable, as you discovered in the closet. We simply put an enemy together with one of them, tape the proceedings...."

"Blackmail!"

The man in the dark suit glared at Jamie; Marsden did something to the unionist's kidney that left him gasping on the floor at the foot of the desk. "Yes," the suit said, "blackmail. It's less than some of our enemies are willing to do. People Not Furries, for instance, has stooped to murder on several occasions. Did you know that? But perhaps," he added, "you'd rather know what where Tabatha is right now."

The remote rose and again the scene on the console changed. From the floor, Jamie saw the man with the scars injecting a bunny.

Jamie pulled himself painfully into a chair.

"Won't you have a seat, Mr. Mullens?" the suit said, sweetly, then held up a hand to the mirror shades approaching behind. "That's all right, Marsden, I want to speak to our guest face to face. I can hardly do that if he's lieing on the floor.

"The injection," he went on, "merely weakens her heart walls. We then induce an infarction by overstressing her, through sex. It's really quite a pleasant way to go...."

The suit watched the scarred man pull the needle from Tabby's arm. Her mouth opened; her tongue and nose were already very red, she seemed to be blushing over every inch of her body. The scarred man offered her a cold drink; she gulped it down and seemed to want more.

Jamie looked from the monitor to the suit in disbelief. Tabby seemed frightened; she cuddled herself, panting, and looked at her hands as if she were holding something deadly. But the look on her face was merely perplexing to Jamie, as if she really were in danger; he knew that she was, he just didn't know how to feel about it. The look on the suit's face was actually wrong! Jamie expected him to look impassive, amused, pleased with himself maybe. He shouldn't look the way Jamie felt, as if someone he loved was dieing!

"You love her," he found himself saying.

"No."

"You've been with her yourself, that's why. All that talk about your enemies falling under her spell, taping them so you can blackmail them, easiest thing in the world. But you've been with her too, and now you care as much for her as they did!"

The suit seemed to have aged in the seconds they'd been watching; the eyes he turned on Jamie were empty, but his lip still quivered. "Of course," he said, "we can make no exceptions...."

"How can you kill somebody you love? How can you do that?"

Anger flared in the suit's face now.

"Boss?" said the mirror shades.

"Get out!"

Stunned and uncertain, the mirror shades reached for the door and cleared his throat. The suit yelled the order and the goon left.

"Gonna do me yourself?"

"I could."

"But I'm right, you know."

The suit looked at the console. "I can't make exceptions out of personal bias."

Jamie swallowed his first, angry reply, thought of another. "Because once you have mercy on one bunny, there's always a next one, and a next, and then the wolves, and soon you don't have control over your own company anymore."

"Exactly," the suit replied, astonished.

"So the killing goes on, anytime a bunny steps out of line, just so you can feel in control."

The suit sighed, angry but relieved. "It's not a matter of tight control or personal power, Mr. Mullens."

"You just said it was," Jamie interrupted. "'Soon you don't have control over your own company anymore,' 'Exactly.'"

The suit stared angrily at the unionist.

"Tabby taught me to think that way. She's not an animal or a machine you can turn on and off if it doesn't work the way you want it to. The bunnies aren't, the wolves aren't, Sherri the skunk isn't. They're people, capable of feeling and reasoning and the best proof is they can teach. You can't keep such tight control over real people, that's... Dear God, man, that's slavery!"

The suit smiled patronizingly. "You're getting emotional, Mr. Mullens. If you could think rationally for a moment, you'd see that you were comparing apples to oranges. There are several differences between furries and humans that exclude sentience...."

"What is sentience?"

The suit scowled. "Mr. Mullens...." he growled.

"You're using sentience as the measure of whether control is slavery. So what is sentience?"

"The laws regardings furries are quite clear on that. They define sentience and furries do not suit the requirements. I realize that unions often hold themselves above the law, but most people keep it. What makes you better than them, Mr. Mullens?"

"The law is the will of those who make it. It is inconvenient for furries to be sentient, so they define sentience in such a way that furries don't qualify...."

"I have no time for conspiracy theories...."

"Conspiracy nothing! I'm accusing the law of prejudice, pure and simple! And _that_," Jamie exclaimed, pointing to the monitor, "is the bottom line! Someone you love is dieing so that her fellows won't try again to tell the world who they are."

The suit stared at the screen. Tabby was still staring at her hands, shivering visibly. Her mouth worked, but with the sound off they couldn't tell if she were saying something or panting or crying.

"So you'd have me make an exception," said the suit, "let her stay with the other bunnies and lead more palace revolts."

Jamie looked from the monitor to the suit. "I'll take her away," he said, at last. "She can't make trouble if she's not here."

"Your own private bunny? How will you pay for her?"

"You're about to scrap that one. Why should I pay for junk?"

The suit picked up his phone. Tabby's head jerked and an arm crossed the camera's field. "Marcus? I want you to give Tabatha the antidote. You heard me, give it to her! And bring her to my office. I've been given an alternative that I don't feel I can pass up."

#

Marcus and Tabby were followed by a smartly dressed bunny pushing a tea cart. She offered refreshments to all; Tabby didn't want anything, but the other bunny petted her ears and all but poured tea from a smaller pot into her mouth. It seemed to help. Marcus was dismissed at once. He caught Jamie staring at him as he opened the door. "You have a problem?" he asked. Jamie looked away; Marcus left.

Jamie sat with Tabby. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"I'm not hot all over anymore and my chest isn't pounding. I'll need an EKG later to be sure, but Marcus said I got the antidote before much could happen to me. It usually takes three hours."

"No, I mean, are you okay?"

Tabby looked him in the face for the first time since she'd arrived. "I'm scared. I feel sick to my stomach. I need you to hold me. But you still have to talk to the manager." She nuzzled his chest; he could feel her quivering. "I'll be all right for now."

"I was wrong," the suit said, in front of them. "Your plan was most elegant, but it wasn't simple at all. Machiavellian, in fact; I imagine you even accounted for chaotic complexities, yes?"

"I'm sorry, sir."

"That, Mr. Mullens, was a programmed response, taught to her when she was a kitt by the factory that made her. She genuinely feels sorry for having offended me. She's ready to be punished now. But I'm not angry, Tabatha. I admire the way you managed to manipulate me. It's not an easy thing to do, Mr. Mullens, as she can tell you."

"Tabby? Was it... programmed?"

The bunny shook her head. "Conditioned," she corrected.

"An unimportant difference in her case. Mr. Mullens has offered to take you home with him, Tabatha. You'll be his property, his personal bunny. Would you like that?"

Tabby looked up. "Is that why you spared me?"

The suit laughed. "Now _that_ is _not_ what she was supposed to say! She's supposed to be disappointed that she's no longer wanted but passively accept her new master, not question the circumstances!"

"See? She's sentient!"

The suit laughed again, in spite of himself. "I think you knew all along that was why you'd be spared. Mullens, owning a bunny is more responsibility than you know. She has needs that you won't expect. You'll have to meet them or she could go mad or even die. She was created to live in an institutional setting, like the mansion."

"I need something to do, Jamie. I get bored easily, I need to feel that I'm useful."

"That's a problem," Jamie said, then smacked his forehead. "No, it's no problem at all! You can take care of my mother, keep the house, then I'll be free to get a full time job! If I can find one."

Tabby looked up at the suit, who looked back thoughtfully. He said nothing; she didn't push the issue. "There's more," she went on. "I need a lot of physical affection. I can't go without sex for any length of time Jamie, I can go insane if I'm denied touch. I need to know I'm loved and wanted. You'll be the only one who can give me that. And your religion doesn't approve of sex with furries."

The unionist looked away in thought. The suit started to look triumphant as the silence went on, began to smile, his mouth opened to speak. "Have you ever heard of a Lilly Holly Catholic?" Jamie said at last. "That's one who goes to church on Easter and Christmas and hasn't seen the inside of a confessional in years." Jamie put an arm around Tabby's shoulders. "As for the affection, well, we'll find a way, mother isn't a cold shoulder of beef and neither am I. It's just a matter of knowing when and how. We'll work something out. And as for... the other... you'll just have to teach me."

#

Tabby giggled prettily as Mrs. Mullens, in her chair by the window, gave the bunny a hug around the waist and sent her off to the door. Jamie was just coming in and hardly had his coat off, but she grabbed him in a tight embrace and kissed his mouth passionately. He had no trouble returning the kiss, but soon broke off, panting.

"You're not breathing through your nose, silly!" she giggled.

"It's not that," he panted, "I had to run three blocks from the bus stop! Won't those bloody reporters ever get tired of us?"

"I know, I had to stop answering the door! At least the new answering machine keeps them off the telephone. It's hard to override an old, mechanical unit!" She gently nipped his nose. "Can we go upstairs now?"

Jamie massaged the bunny's rear, pulling her even closer to him. "Ah, you'll be needing a little something about now, won't you?" he said, smiling broadly. "Just let me catch my breath first, love."

Jamie sat on the stairs, while Tabby sat on the step above him and massaged his shoulders. "Still no work love, but I talked the pension office into calling you supplemental household help. We'll be getting extra in mother's pension cheque to cover your expenses. The union's been giving me more to do, too. They're being a lot better about the Furry Problem than you considered."

"You haven't tried to get _them_ to support furries yet."

"Just give them time! Let them meet you a few times... get to know you, they'll come.... Oh, that's nice! A little lower, please?"

Tabby giggled and massaged lower. "Things are going pretty much as I planned, then. I'll need to meet the press more next, let the rest of the world know. Right now I need you!" and she started pulling him up the stairs by his armpits. Jamie turned, growling playfully, and chased her right into bed.

The End

Copyright 1995 Allan D. Burrows, All Rights Reserved after publication

12137 words