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Darwin's Legacy

Chapter 17 - Cry Havoc: Part II

Nolan, Kaplan and Rock had followed the leopards that were tracking the three canines at a distance initially, but as the terrain became more desolate the leopards had allowed them to move in closer under cover of darkness. Now they were only a few miles behind the scouts, hiding in a dry gulch under a bridge in case the canines came back this way before the scouts could warn them. There was barely room for them all and it was hot, cramped and uncomfortable.

"Get your paw off my leg." Rock rumbled at his stripped compatriot.

Kaplan smiled but complied. "Sorry Rock, I was just trying to spread out and get more comfortable."

"Don't get too comfortable." Nolan advised. "Not until we find what we came for. After that you can relax with your little wolf toy all you want."

Kaplan's smile became dreamy and he looked off into the distance in remembrance. "Not so little, and not a toy, not yet." He sighed. "It's going to be interesting taming that one."

Nolan's ears pricked up. "Shush, someone's coming." The three fell silent, waiting. A moment later the leader of the leopard scouts dropped into the gulch. Nolan could tell that the cat was upset by his furrowed brow and the way his thick tail was swishing angrily behind him. Nolan and his two fellow advisors climbed out from under the bridge and stood in a semi-circle around the leopard.

"What has happened?" The warthog demanded.

"They are dead."

"What!?" The tiger roared. "We did not hear any shots fired. Explain yourself." All three of the King's advisors leaned in threateningly.

The leopard did not cower. "We followed them to a crack in the cliffs that led to a circular clearing." The leopard pointed south, tin the direction they had been going earlier. "They hid in the bushes outside it for a while and we could not approach, but when they went in two of us moved up within earshot. They heard them talking about dead foxes, and air vents on the cliffs. Then a loud voice, a strange voice that came from nowhere but seemed to be everywhere, shouted something about poison and dying. The next thing we knew the clearing was filling with a green mist. The scout by the entrance saw the three canines drop and writhe in agony before he ran from the mist. The scout on the cliff top looking down was not so lucky. The mist reached him as he was climbing down. I saw him let go of the rock face to clutch his throat. He did not seem to be breathing, and a moment later he toppled off the cliff. If he was not already dead when he fell he was when he hit the ground."

"Poison gas." Nolan muttered, looking down. "I have read about it but it has not been encountered for over a thousand years." He looked back to the leopard. "Did you recover his body?"

"No. Scout lore has it that the area around such a trap will be contaminated until after a heavy rain; and that is unlikely to happen any time soon." He added looking up at the harsh sun and the clear sky. "To touch anything that the mist has touched is death."

"Yes, that matches what I have read." Nolan confirmed. "Did you see the dog's bodies?"

"No, but I left a sentry to watch the crack ... from a distance."

Nolan fell into silent thought as he pondered the situation. It was not a pleasant one. The clearing beyond the crack in the cliffs was the best bet for finding an entrance, but it was protected, and even going near to look could be deadly. But going back to the King to report failure was equally deadly. He wondered what they would encounter if they just kept heading east, away from the humans, the King, and the war.

Kaplan waved his arms in frustration. "Damn!" He picked up a stone and threw it against the bridge, knocking a sizable chunk of concrete from it.

Rock was stoic. Finding the entrance was not his responsibility. He had secret orders to bring the warthog back to the king if they failed, and he could enlist the Kaplan to assist him if the tiger was not complicit in the failure. "Are you upset because our mission failed or because you lost your prize?" He teased the big cat.

Kaplan turned and snarled, but he knew better than to try and take the big panda down in a frontal assault. Instead, he went for the leopard who had brought the bad news, swiping one great paw around, claws fully extended, intending to rip its face off.

The leopard, half anticipating such a reaction, was gone before Kaplan's paw was halfway around. He scrambled straight up the wall of the gulch and sat in the edge of the bridge, out of reach. Kaplan tried to follow but his weight was too much for the loose stone to bear, and he fell back to the bed of the dry wash spitting and hissing in anger.

Nolan had snapped his head around at the sudden movement, and his eyes followed the leopard as it ascended the sheer stone wall. Then he looked up to the cliff in the distance. Something that the scout leader had said was picking at the back of his mind. The scout that had died had been watch from the cliff top, he recalled, and the other had overheard the canines talking about looking for air vents ... he looked up at the leopard. "You can climb these cliffs?"

"Yes." The leopard replied. "We are good climbers. It's how we avoided being killed by the likes of Lord Kaplan and the King's ancestors after the change."

Nolan shrugged off his pack and dug inside. He pulled out a map drawn on vellum, a copy of the ancient paper maps found in the San Diego Public Library. Along with it he produced a sheath of aerial photos that were indexed to the map. They had come from the library archives. They were each encased in a transparent, flexible plastic sheath that was extremely rare and had to be kept out of the sun as much as possible, but Nolan needed good light to study them so he began laying them out on the floor of the gully.

He pointed to a spot on the map and the corresponding point on one of the photos. "Here is where we are, and here is the west entrance to the human facility." He indicated it on the photos and then followed a line of a slightly different tone that cut straight across the rock and through the surrounding forest. "This line of cleared ground must be the perimeter, which leads back to where we are. But if we follow it around," his digit passed the original position and continued east and south, "we arrive at the front door. Everything inside the line is their facility."

The wart hog pulled out a magnifying lens that was slightly scratched and broken around the edges. He examined the area inside the perimeter with it, occasionally cross checking with the map. Finally he stabbed one digit down on a small dark circle in the middle of the plateau-like top of the mountain. "And this is their skylight." He declared. Then he turned to the leopard, passing him the map.

"Find me a way up those cliffs."

* * * * * * * *

The first indication that they were under attack came from the soft snake-like hiss that surrounded the three canines examining the circular clearing where Snowdrop's trail ended. Looking around Roark, Dylan and Darwin saw that a green mist was issuing from several spots around the clearing. The three backed away from the expanding cloud until they were back-to-back-to back in a rapidly shrinking clear area against the wall opposite the crack they had entered by.

"What the hell is it?" Dylan cried.

"I don't know. Don't breathe it!" Roark advised as he caught a whiff of something that reminded him of wild mustard mixed with garlic. It was a pleasant smell, but before he could be tempted to sample some more the tissues inside his snout became sore and irritated. He blasted what air was left in his lungs through them to expel whatever it was and then clamped his nostrils shut. But the pain continued to worsen and now his lungs were screaming for oxygen.

Suddenly a strange voice boomed through the clearing. "The gas is poison! Do not inhale or you will die! The Gas is poison." It was followed by a loud whine that hurt their ears.

Thanks for the late news, Roark thought as he fought to keep his mouth shut against the need to breathe. The voice continued, at a much lower volume. "Drop to the ground. The gas is lighter than air and will rise if you do not flail about in it. Drop to the ground and crawl towards the door."

The three companions dropped to the rocky floor of the clearing, and found that the gas was indeed hanging a foot or so above it and rising. Roark looked around and saw that there was a dark opening in the face of the cliff behind them. Still not daring to breathe, he rolled over and beat the ground with his arms to catch Dylan and Darwin's attention. With a bit of flopping around and grunts to direct them they were soon all facing the opening. Crawling hastily and clumsily the three make for the entrance as fast as they could.

They found themselves on a grid of closely-spaced steel mesh. Once the last tail was clear of the threshold the door slammed down behind them. Before they could do so much as gasp they were hit with powerful streams of cold water. Tucking their snouts under their arms they were able to draw in enough air, and not too much water, to remain conscious. A voice, not the one they had heard in the clearing, ordered them to roll over so that the water could wash away any residue from the gas. They complied. After a minute the water shut off and they were left dripping wet on the grill.

"Right, anyone breathe in any of it? Even a little?" The voice asked.

Roark raised a paw, as well as his head, and gasped when he saw a large, bright green creature with compound eyes striding toward it. Its skin was rubbery, its paws were stubby and featureless. Before he could react it closed the distance and stuck tubes into his nostrils.

"Breathe in through your nose." It ordered. Shocked, Roark complied. As he did the creature squeezed a plastic bottle attached to the tubes. Whatever was in the bottle brought immediate relief, and Roark found that he could breathe through his snout once again.

Up close, he could see that the creature was not some sort of huge insect, but someone wearing a suit made entirely out of a sort of flexible plastic. The eyes behind the glass lenses that he had mistaken for bug eyes were dark blue, like Aster's and a few other felines that he had seen. However, they were shaped more like a canine's, with dark round pupils, but with a lot more of the white showing. The creature pulled the tubes from Roark's nose and looked to the other two canines.

"You two okay? No difficulty breathing or pain in your lungs." The beagle and hunchbacked wolf both shook their heads no. "Good. You'll probably all live then." After speaking it reached up and pulled a strip of something off from around its neck and slid back the mask that was covering its face. The top and bottom half were fairly normal, covered in reddish fur about an inch thick, but the middle was hideous, as hairless as a burn victim and with a snout that barely protruded past its forehead. If Roark had not seen the statues of the apes in the zoo he would have been totally taken aback. As it was, however, he was still not prepared for this.

The creature, which Roark surmised was a human, repeated the procedure to pull the glove off its right paw and stuck the hairless appendage out in Roark's direction. "My name is Tom. Tom Morgan."

Roark's eyes flicked back and forth between the naked paw and the semi-naked face, wondering what to do.

"Shake it." Darwin whispered in his ear.

"Shake what?" Roark said out of the corner of his mouth, never taking his eyes of those of the human.

"Shake its paw."

"Why?"

"I don't know, but something in the back of my mind says that it is the right thing to do."

Roark reached out tentatively with both of his paws and gripped the human around the wrist. He shook the human's arm so that its paw flopped in the air between them. When he did it the human's face split into a broad toothy grin. Roark did not know how to interpret that. Wolves bare their teeth when they are extremely submissive or about to attack, the difference rested on the position of the ears and the direction the snout was pointing. But the human's ears had not moved and it had no snout to point. Roark released the paw and sat back for a moment. Then he held out his right paw in a reciprocal gesture. To his surprise the human locked his paw around Roark's and pumped his arm up and down several times before releasing it.

It turned to Dylan and repeated the move, reaching out to pull the wolf's paw to do so. "Tom." It said again.

"Uhm, Dylan." The former story teller replied, robbed of his normal verbosity by the recent events.

When it was Darwin's turn the beagle stuck out his paw eagerly. Even his tail was wagging behind him. "Darwin." He introduced himself. "Darwin Beagle."

"Darwin Beagle. Now that is interesting." Tom said as his grin broadened into a smile. "Did you know, one of our most famous biologists ..." But he was interrupted by a squeal of joy from behind him.

"Darwin!"

"Snowdrop!" Darwin released Tom and stood up just in time to be tackled by a dark-furred missile.

"Darwin, Darwin! You followed me. You found me. By the gods Darwin, it is you! Mmmmmummm." Darwin was unable to reply because every few words were punctuated by kisses and she ended with one that sealed his lips against hers.

"I take it you two know each other." The red-furred one chuckled.

Roark studied the couple. Despite the differences in their appearance, and her extreme pregnancy, they looked good together. She was healthy and her fur gleamed with that glow only pregnant females seem to have. She was very young, still in the late stages of adolescence, Roark guessed, but the hardships of captivity and her escape had matured her beyond her years. Darwin was fit and lean after a summer of hiking around the northern valley tracking her to the kingdom. He also looked more mature than when they had found him crying into his beer in the local tavern.

Now here they were, reunited, with Darwin lying on his back on the concrete floor of a human enclave with his lover straddling him, their faces locked together, oblivious to the two wolves and one human that were watching them. It was a strange setting, yet, they looked natural together.

"Are they alright?" A new voice called. Roark looked around and saw two more humans approaching at a trot. One was short and chubby and had hardly any fur at all. The other was tall and thin and had an unruly black mass of fur on its head, but none on its face. They were both wearing white cloaks with long sleeves. Their paws were empty. Roark stood up as they approached and stuck out his right paw, hoping that he had the ritual greeting correct now.

The taller of the two stopped some distance back and gave Roark a probing look. The short one however, trotted right up to the big grey wolf and took his paw in with both of its hairless ones and repeated the arm pumping gesture while it gasped for breath."

"How ... how do you do? Sorry I ... I'm a little out of ... whew ... shape. The defensive controls are ... way at the other end of the complex, you see, and ..."

"I'm Roark." Roark said when the odd looking human paused for breath. "My companion Dylan and I have been helping Darwin here look for Snowdrop."

"Ah!" The short one exclaimed, looking at the three newcomers. "A Canis lupus familiaris, a beagle if I am not mistaken. And two Canis lupus, although I'm not sure if you are C.l. lycaon or C. l. occidentalis. Maybe a bit of both."

"C.l. lycaon, obviously." The tall one, who still hanging back, said. Roark detected a note of distain in its voice.

"Are you kidding?" Tom, the hairier one rose up to challenge the tall one. "Look at the markings. Look at the musculature. Look at how big he is! He is C.l. occidentalis for sure."

"All those changes could be due to the genetic mutations they are going through because of the treatment."

"Or not. Have you ever even seen a C.l. occidentalis beside a C.l. lycaon? Because I have and let me tell you ..."

"You? You still think C.l. rufus is a distinct subspecies when it is obviously a hybrid of ..."

The short one wedged himself between the other two humans and covered their mouths. "My apologies, uhm, gentlemen. I'm, ah, George, and my black-haired colleague is Ray. Tom you must have met already. You said your name was Roark?"

Roark relaxed. He was afraid that the other two were going to fight to the death. "Roark, yes. My fellow wolf is called Dylan, and our friend underneath the cat is Darwin."

"Interesting malformation." Ray said between George's digits, looking at Dylan. "Do you think that hunch is related to an exaggerated C.l. lycaon shoulder hump or simply a spinal deformity?"

Before any of the humans could begin debating Dylan swung around to reveal his stunted legs. "It's a deformity." He said frankly. "Are your faces lacking fur because of disease or did you evolve that way?"

"Humph." Ray grunted, but Tom broke out in a laugh at Dylan's quip. George and Dylan joined him. Roark continued to study the humans. Darwin and Snowdrop continued to make up for lost time.

"What the hell just happened anyway?" Tom asked when he had calmed down. "I was down here cleaning out the air filters and the next thing I know the gas alarm goes off, the door opens and these three pile inside."

"We had a close call." George explained. "Ray and I thought that more of those foxes had come looking for Snowdrop but just as Ray set off the gas Snowdrop recognized her, uhm, friend here. Ray shut off the gas and I got on the intercom to warn them to keep low to the ground."

"Almost killed us all with the feedback." Ray grumbled.

"How was I to know the volume was turned up so high? Anyway, then we opened the door and rushed right down here. You should have seen Snowdrop move! Bounding down the corridors, leaping off the walls at the intersections. She left us behind in no time. Magnificent."

"Well, they were lucky that I was here to decontaminate them. Roark here got a whiff of it but we got it treated before it got into his lungs."

"Could we carry on this conversation someplace a little dryer?" Dylan interrupted, holding up his arms to show the water dripping off them. "I'm sure that it's not good for Snowdrop to be getting herself all wet on Darwin there either. She might catch a cold, and in her condition ..." He let his words trail off there.

George looked apologetic. "Oh, yes, of course. How ungracious of us. Please, follow me. We'll get you cleaned off and find some dry clothes for you. Then you can tell us all about your travels." The short human turned back the way he had come and looked over his shoulder expectedly.

Dylan turned to the couple on the floor beside him. "Darwin! Hey, Darwin. Time for you and Snowdrop to come up for air."

"Sorry." Darwin said sheepishly looking around Snowdrop at his companions.

"Let's go, lover." Dylan helped the two to their feet.

"Everyone ready?" George asked after the four non-humans had assembled behind him. "Fine, follow me." He led them away from the vestibule and into the heart of the compound.

In the empty control room, data from the outside sensors continued to march unnoticed across the screen. The initial report of the three canine's approach had long since disappeared, to be replaced by data that identified several more animals in their place. That two soon left the screen as two retreated and the body of the third cooled and lay motionless outside the clearing, and thus was ignored by the program designed to track only living creatures. By the time the group passed the control room on their way to the living quarters, the screen was blank.

* * * * * * * *

It takes time for an army to assemble on foot, even a small one, and the close, steep terrain of the mountains east of the southern kingdom were a further impediment. But San Diego the Eighth, sovereign ruler of the southern kingdom, managed to equip all of the males in his kingdom with weapons and rudimentary armour, thanks to stockpiles that had been building up over hundreds of years in anticipation of this day. By the time that word came back from his three advisors on the trail of the canines his army was already halfway between the crossroads overlooking the kingdom and the human fortress.

The lion had great respect for the wart hog's intellect, and had no doubt that Nolan would figure out a way into the facility. He had, however, expected Nolan to lead the army to some weak point in the facility's defences, not to request a diversion. He questioned the messenger, a wheezing leopard who had suffered some kind of lung injury.

"He has found a back door, which is well defended, but he claims that he can get a small force inside somehow?"

"Yes your majesty." The leopard said between forced breaths.

"But he does not want the whole army to march up there?"

"No, <cough> your majesty."

"Instead, he wants us to attack the compound's main entrance, the one that has been the death of so many of our loyal subjects?"

"Yes, your majesty <cough>. Nolan said that he does not believe <gasp> that there are very many humans left in the compound," it paused to breathe before finishing in a rush, "and the distraction will keep then focused elsewhere."

Diego studied a list of the personnel that Nolan wanted to be sent after him. Four of the strongest pandas from Rock's clan, four of the fiercest tigers from Kaplan's family, and two warthogs known for their studies in human weaponry. A diverse little group of commandos, he thought as he scratched his chin. One that could seize the human weapons, and, whether it took brains, brawn or guts to wield them, turn them on their creators. On our creators, he reminded himself.

He wished that he could be there at that moment, but it was his duty and responsibility to lead. Plus, he did not trust the little swine not to turn whatever weapons he found on his king if said king was not surrounded by a few thousand protective troops. There was one other consideration, however.

"Where are the wolves?" Diego asked the general that was in charge of their rear guard.

"They have broken through the gap and are moving south towards the crossroads, Sire. If we do not turn and face them we will be cut off from our home."

"They will not bother with our homes." Diego said with conviction. "Their leader wants what we want, but we will get it first. Here." He held the list out and the general took it. "Send these folk to with this leopard to join Lord Nolan. And, just as a precaution, send Leandra with two of our most trustworthy kin to, ah, supervise the efforts of our esteemed servant and advisor."

"As you wish, Sire. Is there a message for the Lady Leandra?"

"No. She'll know what to do."

As the general departed to arrange the passage of the selected members Diego wondered who would win should the loyalty of the raiding party come into question, Nolan with his razor sharp tusks, or Leandra, with the concealed poisoned daggers that she thought he did not know about.

* * * * * * * *

"And that is how we ended up on your doorstep." Dylan concluded the story of how he and Roark had come to leave their pack and be traveling with the beagle, Darwin, in search of his feline lover, Snowdrop. As a trained storyteller he had covered all of the pertinent and interesting points with more detail than Roark would have thought necessary, and the tale had taken them through the rest of the day and most of the night. Before that, however, Darwin had insisted that Snowdrop tell them how she had fared, and she had not only repeated her story, but also the conversation she had had with the scientists after she had regained consciousness in their care.

"Well, we have not had this much excitement since ... since Renaud left." George said when Dylan was done. "Are you hungry again yet?" They had gathered in the facility's dining room for the telling so that their hosts could feed them without missing any of the tale, and they had eaten twice already since their arrival.

"I'm still full." Roark said. He had eaten a whole pizza at the first meal and most of a roast chicken at the second.

"Me too." Darwin had spent the whole time sitting beside Snowdrop, holding her paw and looking into her eyes, and had barely touched his food.

Dylan was still hungry, and he knew that Darwin had not eaten much, but he looked like he would prefer to spend some time alone with Snowdrop, so the hunch-backed wolf quelled his hunger and claimed to be satisfied also.

Tom stood up. "Let me show you to your rooms then. Darwin, if you and Snowdrop can make do with a single bed tonight we'll see about getting something larger out of storage tomorrow. George, don't we have a few doubles left over from the old military married quarters?"

Darwin interrupted. "Oh, that's alright." He told the scientist. "I want to thank you for your hospitality, and for taking Snowdrop in and all, but we will want to leave as soon as possible, to get back to the valley before winter sets in."

Roark spoke up. "I don't think that's going to be possible Darwin."

"Why not?"

"I have the feeling that Diego is going to move on this facility. With Ang-Ro moving north he doesn't dare wait any longer. If they come up from the coast like we did, to the front door, they will block that route. And if you follow Snowdrop's back trail to the gap you'll be bound to run into the wolf alliance. Then there is Snowdrop's condition to think about. How far will she get before the hardships of travel put her into labour?"

"Do you think that could happen? Snowdrop asked.

"I've seen it wolves that have been forced to change dens after being attacked by another pack." Roark assured her.

"He is correct, but there are worse things than early labour." Ray added. "The stress of hiding out from the two armies, always wondering if you are being hunted, can bring about spontaneous abortions in some feline species."

"Gee, Ray. Got any more good news?" Tom said sarcastically.

"It's true Tom. L. geoffroyi, commonly known as Godrey's Cat, can self-abort after just a short period of ...."

"I am not going anywhere." Snowdrop said forcefully, cutting the argument short. After almost two weeks of listening to Ray and Tom she knew that they would go on until someone interrupted. "The baby has been shifting around. That means that it will come soon, maybe next week, maybe sooner." As priestess designate she had learned about these things. "And there is no way I can haul this belly across the mountains again, even with a pack of wolves after me. No. Our baby is going to be born here."

George smiled and rubbed his hands together. "Excellent. This is going to be historic. Imagine, the birth of the first interspecies ... uhm, child. Well, first except for the fox-feline cross you told us about Roark. I'll start getting things ready."

"There is no rush, really." She protested.

Roark cleared his throat to draw their attention. "I think that there is something we need to start preparing right away. While this fortress has held for many centuries you said that the defences have been deteriorating rapidly. If you are going to hold the King's army off you are going to need our help."

"What do you know about modern weaponry?" Ray asked with distain.

"Not much." Roark admitted. "But I do know a lot about warfare and I'm a fast learner."

* * * * * * * *

Once the last major town had been bypassed the fox army moved with even greater speed, abandoning security for the sake of haste. Deserters were scooped up on the fly and interrogated hastily, but thoroughly. Their stories were all the same: the wolves were held up at the gap. But when they arrived at the gap the foxes found that the wolves had gone. There was plenty of evidence that they had not been gone for more than a few days though, gruesome evidence. Silver Tip asked Annie to come forward so he could show her the defiled corpses of the southern soldiers.

Annie was aghast. "My gods, what did they do to them?"

"I take it from your reaction that this is not normal wolf behaviour?" Silver Tip said.

"I've never heard of treating the enemy like this." Annie looked at the bodies and noticed that all of them were female. "What did they do with the fighters?"

"These females were the fighters." Silver Tip replied. "I thought they might have done this to them because they insulted by the fact that they were held up for almost a week by mere females."

"Female wolves fight to defend their den as fiercely as the males." Annie assured him. "Sometimes more so, but when the tide of battle turns against them they either take their families and leave or petition to join the pack that has seized their dens. Generally we let whoever wants to run away go and take whoever wants to join pour pack in under consideration. But then, a lot of things have changed since Ro-Da started making all the decisions."

"Humph." Silver Tip dismissed her, and set some of the recent deserters they had picked up to burying the dead.

The foxes had to make a decision. For a time, while the ground was relatively flat and dry, the supply chain had been able to match the pace of the mounted troops, but the war machines could not keep up in the steep terrain, even without a line of wagons to haul. The troops could hurry on in hope of catching the wolves, but it would mean leaving most of their firepower and supplies behind.

After consulting his advisors, and the Lady Aster in her role as leader of the River Valley species, Silver Tip decided to leave the machines behind with a small protective force, to follow as best they could. All of the horses were allocated to the group going forward. Each rider would have a spare horse loaded with as much as it could carry. In that manner they expected to arrive at their objective, the facility that Renaud had come from, or catch up to the wolves, with just enough supplies to see them through their attack and a few days of fighting.

"Will that be enough?" Lady Aster asked him one night while they were engaged as mates rather than as the representatives of their species.

Silver Tip shrugged. "It will have to be. But if it looks like we will be defeated we will ride back, or I will send word. Use the machines to block the access to the valley and kill as many of them as you can before retreating. Hopefully by then your brother and his canine co-commander will have organized the defences and your species at least will have some peace."

Aster poked him in the ribs, hard. "Nice try, but I am not staying back here with your stinky machines. Remember what I said back in the Valley. I may not ride into battle but I will ride with you to observe it." After a few minutes of arguing, several more pokes to the ribcage, and one severely twisted fox nipple later, Silver Tip was forced to concede to her wishes.

It did present a problem, however, to those in Aster's delegation who had been riding in the supply train. While her vulpine servants could ride, there were no horses to spare for non-combatants and Annie, while a formidable fighter, had never ridden a horse in her life; and there was no time to learn.

Tig, who had learned to ride when he was traveling with his father's caravan, offered a solution. "You can ride with me." He suggested. "Neither of us is very large or heavy and the horse should have no problem carrying both of us. I can guide the horse and you can sit behind me and wrap your arms around me and hold on tight." He produced a saddle that was designed for two, explaining that young foxes learned to ride by sitting in front of their elders. "But that will not do for us, as you are taller than me and I would not be able to see where I am going."

Annie examined the saddle, suspicious that such a low priority item made it onto the stores wagons. "You've been planning this for a while, haven't you Tig?"

Beside him Dead Eye went red beneath his greying fur. "Actually, Annie, I snuck it on." He admitted. "I was hoping to find some time to teach you how to ride. I was expecting Aster to stop after we liberated the last of the encampments, and thought it would be a good pastime in the leisure hours, but now with the need for haste ..." His voice trailed off when he saw the look Annie was giving him.

"Oh-ho! You do well not to believe him Annie." Tig laughed. "He just wanted an excuse to get his paws around your waist. But at least he was fox enough to admit that his old mare could not carry the both of you, not with that belly of his. So it's ride with me or run the whole way."

"What about Aster?" Annie inquired, looking askance at the stallion Tig was holding by the harness. "Who will she ride with?"

"I will ride by myself." Came the answer from behind the wolf. Annie whirled about to find Aster seated on the back of a spirited young horse a few paces behind her. She looked comfortable in the saddle. "I learned to ride when Silver Tip was courting me. It was the only way to get away from my brothers when we wanted to, uhm, be alone."

"Are you sure that you will be able to keep up?" Annie asked.

"Watch." The feline kicked the horse in the flanks and slapped its sides with the ends of the reins. It leapt into a gallop, and Aster steered it in a tight circle around her guards and away. She changed direction and then she stood up in the saddle, keeping her balance by swinging her tail and guiding the beast by shifting her weight. She came straight for Annie, who was not sure which way to jump, but Aster pulled the horse to a skidding halt a few feet short of impact and at the same time leapt from its back to land deftly on her feet in front of the young wolf.

"The foxes have kept this art, as well as others, hidden for generations, and I promised to keep their secrets when I married Silver Tip. But now with the war the secret is out, and I'm sure our warriors will be 'acquiring' mounts as soon as they can to imitate the foxes. Maybe without the saddles though, it's easier to control them when you can feel them through your legs and feet."

"My Lady," Annie chided her, "you have to be more careful. Nimble as you are an accidental fall could be the ruin of the alliance between the canines, felines and foxes."

"You are correct to point hat out." Aster sighed. "But do not fear. I have many years left in me yet, and I will teach you and Dylan how to ride when all this is over." As she spoke a gore crow, attracted by the carnage left by the advancing armies, landed on a branch nearby and cawed at the group.

Annie frowned at the crow. "Don't say things like that, my lady. The gods take offence when one attempts to write their own fate."

Aster picked up a stone and pegged it at the bird, scaring it off. "Star Gazer would tell you that there is nothing one can do to change their fate, even for the worse." She said thoughtfully. "And she also says that we often speak prophecy without ever knowing it. But my folk believe as you do except, we say that a promise made from the heart cannot be denied. So I'll withdraw my frivolous offer to teach you to ride in exchange for this solemn pledge." She stepped up the smaller wolf and took her head between both of her paws. "I'll see you and your Dylan together and happy when all is done. That I swear."

* * * * * * * *

There was very little sleep for either Roark or his companions or the human scientists as the canines familiarized themselves with the facility and its defences. After he was sure he fully understood the weapons available Roark came up with a plan to maximize the firepower at the main entrance, where there were indications of constant reconnaissance activity by the southerners, while sealing off the rear entrance where he, Dylan and Darwin had entered.

They split into three teams. Roark and Darwin dismantled the weaponry from the east entrance, which was on the top level, and hauled it down two flights of stairs and across the facility to the front entrance. The only thing they left was the poison gas canisters, because they were not sure that they could disassemble them safely. At the main entrance Ray, Tom and Dylan reassembled the guns and flamethrowers in the existing firing and observation ports. Ray mostly consulted the manuals while Tom handled the more delicate tools. Dylan, with his massive chest and arms, did all the heavy lifting. George, who was not very good at physical labour, and Snowdrop, due to her advanced pregnancy, manned the control room to watch both approaches and stand ready to engage any force that showed up with the weapons that were already functional. They took turns sleeping and preparing food for themselves and the others.

The scientists were not sure what kind of weapons the zoo folk may have found or recreated during the long years of exploration and research that their extended life spans afforded then, but rudimentary explosives were a possibility. Once the weapons that they were sure were working had been moved from the back entrance Tom set their own charges to collapse the first hundred feet of corridor should anyone get past the gas and try to force the door.

Ray showed them a set of rooms in the far corner of the lowest level that were sealed with two sets of massive steel doors. Inside were more weapons, still packed in grease and needing assembly, as well as a few personal weapons and other emergency equipment that the military had left behind. Roark decided not to bother with the larger weapons because it would take days to clean and assemble them, and no one there was enough of an expert to guarantee that they would work properly once they were. He did take the smaller, portable weapons and other devices and placed them ready near the front entrance. Then he and Darwin started moving ammunition and fuel for the flamethrowers down the long corridor.

At the back of the vault there were a number of steel cases on dollies with rubber tires. Each case was marked with a circle made up of alternating yellow and black triangles, joined in the centre at their tips by a smaller black circle. Roark asked if they could take the cases off the dollies and use the wheeled platforms to move the supplies along the wide flat corridor to the entrance foyer.

"They are too heavy." Tom informed him. "You would need a crane to lift them off, and we have none big enough for the job here. Don't try to tilt one off either, it would be very bad if you dropped one and it cracked open. Best to leave them where they are."

"Is it some kind of weapon?" Dylan asked.

"Not one that can be used to help us." Ray said in what was, for him, a rare moment of sincerity. The departure from his usual melancholy disdain was enough to convince Roark not to pursue the topic further.

By the evening of the third day almost everything that could be moved or prepared was ready, and just in time as it turned out. The sensors had been picking up increasing activity, which George interpreted to be the prelude to the southerners' arrival. Roark and Darwin left the cavernous weapons stores, leaving the great steel doors open as part of their back-up plan. The storeroom had its own water supply, toilets and power. They had brought in preserved food and bedding as well as a number of other useful items and planned to retreat to it in case the front entrance was breached. Because the doors could only be opened again from the inside or from the control room the plan was to disable the console and lock themselves in. Once inside George would set off a chemical weapon by remote control. Besides killing whoever was already inside, it would make the rest of the facility a death trap for years to come. They would have to wait out those years inside the vault, but with plenty of books and three scientists to educate them, a professional storyteller to entertain them, and a baby to raise, Roark was sure that the time would pass quickly.

Just before dusk the arrival of the southern army was confirmed by the presence of a great number of creatures with torches on the brow of the hill at the far end of the plain, where the three canines had once hidden to watch the slaughter of the buck. Roark went up to the top level, where there were observation ports high on the cliff above the entrance, and looked out over the approaching army.

Roark picked up a device that Tom had called binoculars and adjusted them for his eyes as the scientist had shown him. He gazed out of the small slit that was placed in the shadow of an overhang so that no one could see it, even in the daytime. Tom had said that the lenses on the binoculars were military grade and would not reflect the setting sun, but Roark waited until the last sliver of orange had disappeared below the horizon anyway before raising the glasses to his head. A slight adjustment of the focus and the creatures arrayed along the ridge were clearly visible against the blue sky that lingered after the sun had set.

Not that he needed the sun to see them by. They were not trying to hide; in fact they were doing everything they could to make themselves visible. They stood silhouetted on the ridge, lit fires and gathered around them, beat their chests and roared at the human fortress as if to challenge them to come out and fight. Roark wondered if they were putting on a display because they were arrogant, scared, or a bit of both. He watched them, fascinated, as they increased in number, spilling over the hill and filling the down slope side with campfires and creatures.

Sometime later a noise behind him made him turn around. With eyes accustomed to the dark he made out Darwin feeling his way along the wall with one paw and holding a steaming plate of venison stew in the other.

"I'm over here." He called out, not bothering to whisper. No one on the opposite ridge could hear him at this distance, especially over the crackling fires and roaring warriors. Darwin made his way over to the sound of Roark's voice and held out the plate. Roark took it and gave it a deep appreciative sniff. The meat was from the buck they had seen killed out on the pain almost two weeks ago. George had taken some out of their freezer, an appliance that they hardly used anymore he said, to give them a break from chicken and salad. Just the fact that the humans could preserve meat for months at a time impressed Roark to no end.

"How is everything downstairs?" He asked between mouthfuls.

"Snowdrop is worried. She has not felt the baby move for several days."

Roark had been asking about the state of the defences, but he played along, knowing that the dog would perform better if he was not worried about the impending birth. "That's normal." He said, not knowing if it was or not when it came to felines, but he had heard the females of his pack mention it when he was still young enough for them to talk freely when he was around. "Once the baby turns down it settles in until it's ready to come out. Has she had any cramps yet?"

"She has been having some stomach cramps, but not the kind associated with birth, she says. She has been under a lot of stress lately, and complains that her legs and back are always sore."

Roark laughed. "All the females in my pack complain like that as they enter the final stretch, so she is doing just fine." He patted Darwin on the thigh in a friendly manner. "You should go get some sleep. I think that it is going to be a busy day tomorrow."

Darwin took the empty bowl and stood up. "What about you Roark? When are you coming down?"

"I'm not." The grey wolf held up a small black device with switches, knobs and a stubby protrusion. I'll be able to see what is developing on the field better from up here and I'll keep in touch with everyone down below with this radio thingy. Don't worry about me." He said, sensing more than seeing a frown on the beagles face. "I'll be fine. This is not the first time I've done this sort of thing."

"Not against an army like that, I'll bet." Darwin jerked his head toward the slit where the sounds of the enemy's challenge could still be heard. "Or with so few and such poor warriors to work with."

"No, but we have weapons beyond anything I have ever imagined before. Now go. Tomorrow's battle won't be easy, but I promise you that we will prevail."

Darwin left without another word, but looking slightly less forlorn. Roark picked up the binoculars and went back to studying the enemy, wondering if he had just lied to the young beagle.

* * * * * * * *

"Are you sure that camera thing is not working?"

"Its wires are broken." Nolan picked up the loose end and waved it at Kaplan. "No wires, no power, or signal. Something must have severed them long ago." The wart hog said, looking around. Over the last three days he and the leopards had made a meticulous search of the cliffs for a route up that avoided all of the known human surveillance devices. In the two millennia that had passed since the change the earth had undergone some minor changes in this seismically active region, cracks wide enough for their passage had opened up in the cliffs, and rocks had tumbled down, destroying or blocking some sensors. By comparing the line of sight from the old aerial photos to the new terrain they were able to take advantage of dead ground that had not been there when the devices were emplaced.

Once on the plateau that topped the mountain the barrenness of the area helped them detect the artificial devices. Many, like the one Nolan was examining, had already been put out of action by accident or age. The ones that they could not be certain of were avoided, because Nolan did not want to attract attention by disabling them. Although they were only six hundred yards from the edge of the cliff in a straight line the route that they had to crawl along to get to their current position was over a mile long.

But now their objective was in sight. In the dim light cast by a quarter moon on this cloudless night it looked like a dark spot in the rock. It could have been a patch of lichen, or a different kind of mineral concentrated there, but Nolan knew that it was an opening, an opening that hopefully led down to the heart of the human enclave. They were only twenty yards away from it, and this camera had been the last of the possible surveillance devices between them and the rim.

"Will there be more inside?" Kaplan whispered.

"Possibly. The plans did not say." During the daylight hours, while the leopards moved ahead to search for anything that looked suspicious, Nolan had studied the diagrams his kin had found. They were a simple set of two-dimensional renderings of the facility. They showed hallways and rooms for several levels, but not engineering systems, ductwork or wiring. However, a wide circular area in the uppermost level was labelled "gardens and solarium", and if the corridor that ended with the label "east egress' was the door they had tracked the canines to then the dark patch up ahead was roughly where the solarium should be.

The panda, Rock, crawled up to join them. "Are we going down tonight?" He whispered.

"No. We have to wait until after the King attacks." The wart hog answered. Maybe they would see the signal today. "Are the rest here?" He asked, referring to the small group of fighters, labourers and academics he had requested.

"They are." Rock informed him. "Along with Leandra and two of the King's cousins. They are all at the base camp, out of sight."

Nolan hid his disappointment. "That was to be expected." He looked at the eastern horizon. There was a thin red line showing already. He would love to go have a look inside the opening, but he resisted the temptation. They would need the last of the darkness to move back to the last bit of shelter and lay up for the day. The leopards had already retreated down the cliff, ready to guide the rest up on Nolan's signal. He turned away and started crawling back the way they had come. The other two fell in behind him.

They reached a depression in the rock, the closest spot to the opening out of observation, with thirty minutes to spare before the sun illuminated the plateau. Kaplan and Rock settled in against the hard stone and fell asleep almost immediately. Nolan pulled the plans out of his pack and studied them for the umpteenth time as the sun grew in strength. He traced the route from the solarium to a staircase which led to the second level. From there he followed a hallway to another staircase that went down to the third and lowest level. It let out near the easternmost corner of the facility, across the corridor from a room that had double walls and a set of doors twice as wide as any others.

The room was labelled "Weapon Storage Area".

Nolan looked at the shadow on the opposite wall. The sun was getting higher. He picked up a device made from old pieces of mirrored glass and plastic tube. They had found the design in a children's activity book. He raised the top over the edge of the depression and turned the opening to the west. From their sheltered position he could see the top of the plateau and a potion of the sky reflected in the mirror. Two columns of black smoke marred the blue in that direction.

It was the signal Nolan had been waiting for; the attack would start very soon.

* * * * * * * *

Roark awoke with a start. At first he thought that he was back on the cliffs overlooking the caves of his home pack, but then he saw the concrete corridor and stairs leading down to the lower levels. Glancing out the observation slit, he saw that the sky was already growing light. He checked the radio to make sure it was on and functioning. He was assured that the southerners had not tried anything in the night since a call on the radio, or the sound of the guns opening up on them, would have woken him instantly.

He picked up the binoculars and looked out to the hill on the opposite side of the small plain. The King's army was arrayed neatly, in groups of several hundred each. Every battalion was formed into a square, and each had their own flag to identify them. There were battalions of tigers in the front, battalions of leopard on the flanks and a few battalions of pandas in the middle. Behind them there were battalions of wart hogs with satchels and tools, and there were siege engines, rams and towers and catapults for throwing rocks. One machine looked like a giant drill attached to a treadmill, and Roark wondered if it could do any damage to the steel doors at the entrance. Groups of pandas stood ready to haul and push the machines onto the battlefield. A few battalions of lions were spread across the rear of the formation, to encourage the others to continue advancing, Roark was sure. There were no integrated battalions.

The forward formations were well back from the blood stains, new and old, that marked the outer range of the defences. Roark could have had the guns adjusted to engage them further out but he was unsure if they would have the penetrating power they needed at a greater distance. That and the fact that the area of coverage in the fan-shaped plain expanded exponentially with every hundred yards they added to the kill zone. Better to let them get close enough so that every round hit something, he had decided.

Seeing the way the soldiers were equipped, he was glad of his decision. Each soldier, no matter what the species, was wearing some form of armour. The majority of it looked to be made of lightweight titanium or carbon steel, two of the scarcest and most precious metals in the northern valley, and two of the hardest. Roark had not had time to learn everything about the human weapons, but there were shields and protective vests in the storeroom that Ray and Tom had said were bullet proof, to a degree. The southerners had much more experience facing firearms in their past excursions against the humans, and Roark had to assume that their armour would offer some protection, especially at a distance. But after what he seen happen to the buck he was fairly sure that the closer they got the less protection the armour would afford.

On the crest of the hill the King's folk had built a platform. The King had brought his throne and had placed it in the middle of the platform. He was sitting in it, surrounded by generals and female servants. As Roark watched, the King raised a paw. On each side of his platform fires were lit. The flames were immediately suppressed by having fresh green wood and grasses thrown on them. As a result, two columns of dense black smoke rose up in the air. It was a signal, Roark realized, but a signal for what? The army was close enough to give his orders verbally. Maybe it had some religious significance, he thought.

As soon as the smoke had risen enough to catch the first rays of the rising sun, drums began to sound. Beating their weapons on their armour to produce a deafening clatter, the army began to advance.

Roark picked up the radio. "They're coming." He said.

George's nervous voice came back over the device an instant later. "Uh, Roark, we have a problem."

"What is it?" Roark asked calmly, keeping his eye on the first battalions, calculating how long before the guns opened up.

"Snowdrop has been having cramps for the last hour or so, but she didn't mention them because they were irregular, and she has had gastrointestinitis these last few days and ..."

"Make your point." Roark snapped. The battle would begin very soon.

"Her water broke. She is in labour. I have to go deliver the baby."

Roark's mind worked at the same incredible speed he had experienced during the attacks on Silver Tip's caravan. "Tom! Take over from George and Snowdrop on the console. Darwin, move over to Tom's position but be prepared to fall back to your old one if I say so. Dylan?"

"Yes! I'm here." His old friend's voice was full of the same excitement it had been while fighting in the caravan.

"You are going to have to cover a wider arc while Darwin is forward. Let me know if it gets to be too much and I'll have him fall back. Acknowledge."

"Gottcha."

"Everybody good to go?"

A series of affirmative replies came back.

"Remember what we are fighting for, the freedom for all species to live as they will, go where they want, and mate as they wish, with none above the other. Good luck."

"Good luck." Dylan repeated.

"Take care." Tom added.

"For Snowdrop." Darwin whispered over the air.

Ray was the last to contribute. "Cry havoc, and let slip the dogs or war." He said in sombre tones.

"What is that?" Dylan asked.

"A quote. From a great storyteller named William Shakespeare."

"What does it mean?"

"It means that we are screw-" Ray's voice was drowned out by the sound of a number of guns going off at once. The battle for the fortress had begun.