The World of Fur – A Whole New World
Story by Gruffy on SoFurry
Imported from SF2 with no description.
The World of Fur – A Whole New World
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Continuing sci-fi fun sponsored by :iconheru: , who definitely knows a fun story – I'm very glad for the opportunity to work on this one, and I hope y'all will enjoy this as well! Hoping to read your comments and see your votes and faves as usual!
Cheers!
*
In a time when the world was becoming so very intrinsically networked, when nearly every pocket contained a mobile entertainment center connecting to the data streams and equipped with a camera, it came as a no surprise that by the time Channel 6 morning news rolled on, almost everyone had already seen at least a still snap of the footage.
“...seen in these images captured by a local farmer, the unidentified space object can be seen quite clearly...”
Kairi Pottel, the cougar star reporter for Channel 6 news, stared seriously at the camera with the still image of the smouldering wreck rear projected behind her on the gigantic green screen that formed the background of the news studio. She appeared as always, perky, impeccably dressed in a red power suit and with a suitable amount of hairspray and lipstick.
“Doctor Waldin from the Department of Astronomy at the Beckfeld Technical University, what do you say about these events that we have apparently witnessed in the past few hours?”
The fur she addressed sat on the other end of the desk, a brown bear with a portly belly, bespectacled, and dressed in an ill-fitting suit jacket and one of the blotched ties that had been fashionable 20 years earlier. His rumpled looks aside, he seemed even more excited than the newscaster, giving his opinion.
“Even without seeing this footage, there is still a great deal of evidence that approximately eight fifteen last night local time, an unidentified gravitational constant phenomenon was detected by the Superstring Explorer Alpha probe currently in orbit, followed by detection of a fast moving unidentified space object or an USO, entering our atmosphere at a very high speed with its trajectory matching the projected trajectory of the USO that has now landed in Hatten Plain.”
Kairi Pottel nodded sagely.
“Does this mean, Doctor, that we have now experienced our first contact with intelligent life beyond our own planet?” she stated the question she was sure that every predecessor to her job had always wanted to utter, at any cost.
The bear folded his arms over his chest.
“Through the international scientific data sharing network, we learned all this...before the Government shut it down,” he said, “that, I think, is more than proof enough that something has landed there that they probably didn't want us to see...but now that everyone has seen it...well, it's rather obvious, isn't it?”
“Are you accusing the government of attempting to cover up this incident?”
“I'm saying that they probably would've preferred that we didn't see it coming,” the bear said. He pointed at the frozen image on the wall. “That's not a crop circle some bored kids made. That's the crash of an object that never existed in our near space before, which was registered appearing after a massive gravitational event, and then it crashed down onto a field in the middle of nowhere.”
“The government has refused to comment on the exact nature of the crash, stating that the emergency services are taking care of the situation in Hatten Plain,” the news presenter pressed on, “what do you make of that, Doctor?”
The bear nodded.
“Either they got an experimental space weapons platform that crashed down there, or Mister Spaceman really decided to pay a visit.”
The cougar noticed her director waving his paw from the sidelines, which meant that the time was out. She was quick to nod and flash her biggest smile at the bear.
“Thank you for your comments, Doctor,” the cougar spoke before addressing the camera again. “Channel 6 will continue to report on these cataclysmic events on every news broadcast today, both on television, the radio, and online. I am Kairi Pottel. Thank you for watching!”
The program ended with a fanfare-like jingle and some graphics bouncing about the screen, and then it was over. The channel cut into a commercial for a new fur conditioner.
*
_ FT. REMARKABLE AIR FORCE BASE _
*
”...how do you comment on the claims that the Unidentified Space Object was in fact a failed Tantonian nuclear weapons satellite that crashed after an accident?”
”...there is nothing to suggest any such claims, and it is utter and complete, and I say again, complete nonsense.”
”How do you comment on the widespread rumors that the crashed object was in fact an alien spacecraft or a artifact from another dimension?”
”...once again, and I cannot emphasize myself enough, i find it utter and I daresay, complete nonsense.”
General Titus Rond couldn't bear to listen any more of the Secretary for Defense Affairs speaking at the Green House press room. He flicked off the television with the remote which the uniformed dog then dropped to the tabletop. He slumped in his high-backed faux leather office chair and buried his muzzle in his paws.
”Why the fuck can't they speak in a way that doesn't make it sound like everything they say is a lie?” he grumbled.
”Because he is lying, sir?” asked Captain Zaria Mumble, the General's resourceful vulpine aide de camp and confidant.
The General glared at her over his knuckles.
”The point of it, for fuck's sake, is to lie so that they don't think you are lying!” he grunted.
”Indeed, sir,” the vixen nodded.
”They should've called it a weather balloon...” General Rond complained. ”Or a fucking plane crash carrying some noxious substances meaning civilians can't go near to it.”
”How would we explain a phantom plane that belongs to nobody, sir?” the vixen asked.
”We've explained worse things than an alien spaceship slamming down some hillbilly's field,” the General grumbled. “But that time's in the past. Now that everyone has a camera that sends a picture to 10 million people with a single click, you can't cover anything up anymore, can you? You can't even fart without someone making a social media post about it.”
“We could still claim it was a weather balloon,” Captain Mumble said, “or a hoax, sir, they could always say that the boffins have misinterpreted the data, or that it's a deliberate fake. That someone was playing with software and...”
The General shrugged aggressively.
“What's the point?” he said. “We're not the ones who have to cover this up. We're the ones who have to keep this mess contained on the field.”
“We are doing a good job with that, sir,” the vixen commented, “the exclusion zone is holding well, according to Colonel Treme's latest cable. The reporters are being kept at bay.”
The General glanced at the light gray ceiling, and growled.
“Doesn't matter,” he said, “I'm sure every hour and a half a satellite swings past and takes a whole new bunch of shots, and there's nothing we can do short of trying to shoot them down with an air to space missile.”
“Are we authorized to do that, sir?”
“Of course not,” the General growled. “Only in the good old days we could have done it...not now. Everything is public now. I don't even dare to think what they have filmed by now. They've probably seen everything we've done ever since the crash. Those commercial satellites keep going past the zone. They've probably photographed everything, the wreck, the fire, the evacuation of the local civilians...everything. Just everything. I might as well read the newspaper to hear the latest on the Hatten Plain USO mystery or whatever stupid they are calling this on the commercial channels. By the time the tabloids are out, I bet someone is already claiming that the alien visitor telepathically impregnated them.”
The vixen flicked her ears curiously, and somewhat unprofessionally, perhaps, but regained her composure soon with a tug on the lapels of her well-fitting uniform jacket.
“Hmm...yes, sir.”
General Rond leaned his muzzle onto one paw and propped it all onto one elbow. His ears were quite flat.
“They haven't even figured out if it's a male or a female or something altogether different,” the dog growled.
“Did they look inside the spacesuit, sir?”
The General have the fox a look that indicated that he was not sure whether she was serious or not.
“You're not authorized to see the photos” he said. “We have to keep this quiet. Only minimum staff can be exposed to the alien life form, or those who have been quarantined.”
“We are not really equipped to continue a biological containment procedure like this for very long,” Captain Mumble noted. “When can we expected to hear about a plan for a further operation to transfer them to a long-term facility?”
“Hell do I know?” the dog barked out. “They're not telling me anything, Captain! They are just telling me to keep my muzzle shut! So I'm keeping my muzzle shut! Do you copy that, Captain?”
“Y-yes, sir,” the vixen hurried to say.
“Good,” the dog growled. “Now stop pestering me! I don't want to talk to anyone now that I'm waiting for a call from the Headquarters.”
“Yes, sir,” said Captain Mumble.
The General buried his face in his paws once more.
*
“MASTER ALARM. MASTER ALARM. MASTER ALARM.”
“Master alarm...”
Captain Alessandro Valentino woke up with a startle, his fingers moving as if trying to hit on the controls to silence the blaring alarm that filled his ears in his dreams.
The stirring of his awakening sent pain through his entire body. It made the Captain groan and shudder, and he tried to lie down as still as possible in the hopes that it would make the pain go away.
He felt terrible.
His head hurt, his back hurt, his legs ached. Everywhere he could feel, pain throbbed thoroughly.
Perhaps that was a good sign, the Captain thought. If he'd been paralyzed, it wouldn't hurt so much, would it?
“Oh, shit...” he muttered.
The Captain tried opening his eyes again. The room he was in looked like an infirmary to him, for sure, with its sparse furniture and medical equipment. What he couldn't really understand was the fact that all the walls seemed to be composed of milky plastic that did not allow him to see properly through it. The light was coming from above, yet he could see the shapes of equipment and people on the other side.
He tried lifting his head, to look around properly, but the pain seemed too much for the moment. The Captain decided to use his voice instead.
“H-hello?”
His throat hurt when he spoke. The Captain swallowed before trying again.
“Hello!” he called out. “Anyone out there? Hello! Help!”
He began to cough, and fell silent. Speaking felt uncomfortable.
“H-hello!”
The Captain concentrated on breathing for the moment. He wondered when anyone would show up. Why was he kept in this kind of a plastic tent anyway? Had he suffered burns? He was bandaged up all over, and that could mean that he had been burnt somehow.
When I crashed.
He remembered.
The Captain could remember.
*
“Oh, shit.”
“WARNING. WARNING. G-SENSE. G-SENSE.”
“I heard you the first place!” the Captain yelled as he snapped the button that shut the voice alarm off.
The respite was only brief. Next the computer warned him of a failure of the guidance system to compensate for the new environment.
“Don't I know that...” the Captain muttered.
The looming planet filled the entire field of view for him now. He could even see individual clouds floating about ever so calmly. Captain Valentino did not like the fact that he might soon be observing those clouds from below rather than above, and that would probably be the last thing he saw.
“Ohhhh crap...”
The spacecraft vibrated, a sure sign that it was now actually already being buffeted by the outer dredges of the atmosphere he cut through as the IKAROS sped through it at an increasing speed.
“IONOSPHERE DETECTED. DO NOT ENTER. DO NOT ENTER.”
“I'd pull up if I could!” the Captain yelled. “Damn!”
He twisted the control stick and saw how the nose softly shifted from left to right and then back.
“Okay...still got some steering...alright...nose up...ass down...”
He pulled on the stick and felt the vessel respond, much to his relief. The new orientation caused the vibrations to increase, making the IKAROS shuffle from side to side like a kite on a sudden strong current in the air.
“My stomach doesn't like this...” the Captain grumbled to himself. “Shhhhhit...”
“SKIN TEMPERATURE WARNING. SKIN TEMPERATURE WARNING.”
Despite the safety filters on the windscreen, the Captain could see a yellow-red glow begin to lick upon the corners of the sole window. He knew that it signified the air molecules hitting the spacecraft becoming super-heated and turning into incredibly hot plasma that would now trail along the plummeting vehicle and make it appear that Captain Valentino was taking a ride on the chariots of fire.
“Nose...stay up...up...up...” the Captain chanted while he operated the stick with one hand and the other tapped away on the control panel, to try and get the cooling system efficiency to improve.
The increasing air resistance buffeted the craft from side to side. Captain Valentino felt like he was riding a falling leaf.
“This is worse than the s-simulator...” the Captain growled to himself, “s-shiiiiiit...”
“PLASMA DETECTED. TEMPERATURE WARNING. COOLING SYSTEM FAILURE.”
The heat exchanger had grown so hot on the outside that the ship could no longer remove its own excess heat. The Captain could feel the cabin grow warmer, too, in response to the ship's inability to protect itself from the warmth of the hull burning up. The suit could only compensate so much with its own circuits before even that capacity was done .
“STRUCTURAL WARNING.”
“Don't you fucking dare to break apart, you!” the Captain kicked the floor of the cockpit, under the dash. “Nose, up! Up!”
It felt like the ship might begin to flip around at any point. His head was already spinning.
*
His memory became hazy after that. He could remember more alarms and the acceleration pressing him onto the couch while he yanked at the stick in order to try and maintain the ship's attitude for a few moments more.
The Captain looked at his hand, band-aids wrapped around it. He almost expected to see a distangled control stick still remaining there, nearby, maybe on the bed.
“Ughhh...”
A rustling noise caught his attention now. It was coming from the other side of the room, beyond the odd plastic barrier. He could see shapes there, silhouettes through the plastic wall and moving about slowly.
“Finally...” Captain Valentino muttered to himself.
It still took a few moments before a fold of the plastic was moved aside and figures appeared, wearing strange green outfits made of noisy plastic, and with large molded, transparent sections on the front for looking out of these costumes. To Valentino they looked like hazmat suits, the kind the space center fire crew would don during alarms and toxic spill drills.
The face on the foremost approaching figure made no sense to him. He did see eyes, nose, lips, everything that Valentino expected to see there, yet their shape was odd, as were the colors.
“H-hello?” Captain Valentino called out.
The first person was joined by two others, trailing behind a step or so. They approached the Captain's bed and formed an unified front as they came to his bedside.
“I must be really high on morphine...” mumbled Captain Valentino.
The person inside the green suit looked like a man-shaped lion.
Seriously.
*
Thank you for reading! I hope you had a good time, and I look forward to your feedback!