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Listed in Folders
A Matter of Survival
A modern Spontoon Island story
© 2022 by Walter Reimer
Thumbnail art by
rabbi-tom
Eight.
By the time the page of the legal-size pad was covered in notes, it had been two hours of steady questioning. Twyford loosened his tie and sat back. Wu cleared his throat and coughed twice before asking, “So, are you going to ask me to plead guilty?”
Twyford’s ears swiveled. “Huh?”
“The public defender took notes, and asked me several times to plead guilty in exchange for a lighter sentence,” the canine said in a raspy voice. He obviously needed some water.
The buck felt a little dry himself, but he smiled. “Are you guilty?”
“No.”
“Then I won’t ask you to take a plea, Mr. Wu.” Twyford added a note to get any notes from the Public Defender’s Office. “Do you have anything to add?”
Wu thought for a moment before shaking his head. “No.”
“Then I’ll be going. When Mr. Stagg gets here, we’ll both come down and talk to you, all right?” The buck stood and shook paws with the canine before gathering up his pad and pen and knocking on the door. It opened, but before he stepped out he looked back at his client. “We’ll talk again.”
***
“Passport and . . . “ the security officer’s mouth fell open as Stagg stepped up to the booth, his Spontoonie passport and identification card in his paw. “Um –“
“Yes, they’re real,” the feline-cervine hybrid said with an affable smile. “Here you are.”
The officer suddenly shook herself and took the paperwork, glancing up at him and down at the photographs on the small booklet and the hard plastic card. “Your reason for your visit?” she asked.
“Business.”
She nodded, and stamped the requisite page of the passport. “Welcome to the United States.”
“Thank you,” and Stagg slipped the ID card and passport into a trouser pocket before joining the rest of the crowd headed for baggage claim. More than a few people he walked past did double takes, or simply stared at him as his hooves clicked against the floor.
He ignored them. He was used to it, and he’d had Guide training – all native-born Spontoonies had, so if anyone decided to confront him about his appearance he was fully prepared to deal with that.
With his suitcase in paw and after converting an amount of Spontoonie shells to dollars, he found a cab in the taxi rank and headed into the city. His clients were not exactly scrimping, so while the hotel he was staying at wasn’t as large or expensive as the one Wu had stayed at, it was in the city itself.
Frank hadn’t lied to Twyford. He’d been to San Francisco twice before, and his BASE jumping visit had included seeing all of the sights available in the city. So he knew his way around, to a certain extent.
He checked his watch, mentally subtracting four hours before texting his office to let them know he’d arrived before dialing Twyford’s number.
“Hello, law offices of Kent Twyford.”
“Good afternoon. This is Frank Stagg.”
“Oh! Hello, sir. I’m Jack Parsons, Mr. Twyford’s paralegal. He’s not in the office right now.”
“That’s all right. I just wanted to let him know that I’m in the city, and I’d like to make an appointment to meet with him.”
“Yes, sir. He’s in court now; would nine tomorrow morning be good?”
“Yes, that’ll be fine. I have your address, so I can get a ride there,” the hybrid said.
“Yes, sir. I have your appointment set.”
By the time the call ended, the taxi was pulling to a stop at the hotel, and he remembered to tip the driver.
The hotel catered mainly to business people; among its amenities was a very strong and reliable wireless internet connection. After checking in and unpacking, Stagg sent off an email to his office to let them know he had arrived - it never hurt to make sure - before doing a search for a nearby restaurant.
Hmm, Vietnamese; some pho would be perfect.
***
“This is unexpected, Cousin,” Kung Longyan said as he sipped from a glass of fruit juice. He’d already poured a second glass, which now sat beside Ni Lu. “What brings you to Kuo Han?”
Lu grinned and took a drink from his glass. Longyan was family, and could be trusted not to try to poison him. The Kungs had been spirited out of Nanking in 1937 by Lu’s great-grandfather before the Japanese had taken the city. They had become quite wealthy financiers and investors on the archipelago, but like the Nis they had paws in two worlds; the government of the Republic of Kuo Han was firmly in their grasp, and one of the largest cryptocurrency data mining operations on Earth was partly owned by them. “I’m merely passing through, Longyan. On my way to Krupmark.”
“Really? Anything going on there that I need to know about?” The slightly older red panda glanced out the window overlooking the city of Wangchung. The bustling port was Kuo Han’s capital.
“Just positioning myself, in case,” Lu said. “Things further east may require my attention.”
“Ah.” Longyan winked. “Orientals,” and the two red pandas laughed.
“Not quite Easterners,” Lu amended, “but Xia and Jin-tao are trying to get us back into the United States.”
“Ah!” A certain gleam came to Longyan’s eyes, a trait that had earned him the name ‘Dragon Eye.’ It usually manifested itself when the opportunity to earn a profit arose. “And you anticipate problems?”
Lu laughed, once. “Always.” He took another sip of his juice. “I haven’t been over there this year yet.”
“Oh? They should be pleased to see you then,” his cousin said. “I’ve heard that Xia has them pretty terrorized, and not in a good way.”
The chubby red panda chuckled. “I suppose I’ll get as far as Spontoon and have a talk with her. After that, I’ll just wait until I’m needed.”
“You’re that sure you’ll be called?” Lu gave him a look, and Longyan’s banded tail waved. “Never mind; your instincts have always been good,” he said dismissively. “Will you need a plane?”
“If it’s all right with you,” Lu said, “I’d like to stay here for a day or so.”
“You’ll be welcome. The children enjoy seeing their Uncle Lu.”
“Heh. They’ll try to talk me into buying them Christmas presents again.”
“As always. And, as always, you won’t say No to them.” The two red pandas grinned, and Longyan’s expression grew guarded. “Have you heard anything from the Neighbors?”
Lu waggled a paw. “They’ve been closemouthed the past few months, but I have a few ears in Canton – “
“As do I.”
“Really?” The thought seemed to amuse Lu, but it made sense. Like Taiwan, the five islands that made up Kuo Han flew the old Nationalist flag; Kuo Han’s banner incorporated the KMT sunburst with the century-old republican Five Colors. Both were a source of constant irritation to the current government in Beijing, and with his close connection to the Kuomintang’s heirs in Wangchung, Longyan needed to know what the Communists were planning. “Have you heard anything?”
“No. You?”
“Not yet.”
***
The pho had been very tasty, and the proprietor and wait staff couldn’t help staring at him. It didn’t bother Stagg’s appetite at all, and the waitress seemed pleased with her tip. The Spontoonie checked his phone to verify his route before he stepped out onto the sidewalk.
It was after sundown, and about a mile from his hotel, so he started to jog, setting an easy pace to keep the concrete from bothering his hooves too much and pausing at each intersection.
A few pedestrians shook their heads, and his ears caught one canine muttering, “You can see everything here.”
He had to laugh at that.
Returning to his room and hanging up his suit, he spent some time watching television, occasionally shaking his head at the content. The three major networks on Spontoon, the native-run LONO, the foreign-owned LYRC, and Rain Island’s ZYPR all showed American reruns along with domestically-produced content.
The Spontoonies got a portion of their opinion of Americans from television; the rest of it came from watching the tourists that descended on the atoll every summer.
“They call it tourist season / So why can’t we shoot ‘em?” Stagg sang to himself in a quiet voice as he switched away from a tired situation comedy to a sports channel and settled down to watch a football game.
The type of football played in America was more violent than what they called ‘soccer,’ which was what was played in the Spontoons, but it was interesting to watch.
<NEXT>
<PREVIOUS>
<FIRST>
A modern Spontoon Island story
© 2022 by Walter Reimer
Thumbnail art by
rabbi-tomEight.
By the time the page of the legal-size pad was covered in notes, it had been two hours of steady questioning. Twyford loosened his tie and sat back. Wu cleared his throat and coughed twice before asking, “So, are you going to ask me to plead guilty?”
Twyford’s ears swiveled. “Huh?”
“The public defender took notes, and asked me several times to plead guilty in exchange for a lighter sentence,” the canine said in a raspy voice. He obviously needed some water.
The buck felt a little dry himself, but he smiled. “Are you guilty?”
“No.”
“Then I won’t ask you to take a plea, Mr. Wu.” Twyford added a note to get any notes from the Public Defender’s Office. “Do you have anything to add?”
Wu thought for a moment before shaking his head. “No.”
“Then I’ll be going. When Mr. Stagg gets here, we’ll both come down and talk to you, all right?” The buck stood and shook paws with the canine before gathering up his pad and pen and knocking on the door. It opened, but before he stepped out he looked back at his client. “We’ll talk again.”
***
“Passport and . . . “ the security officer’s mouth fell open as Stagg stepped up to the booth, his Spontoonie passport and identification card in his paw. “Um –“
“Yes, they’re real,” the feline-cervine hybrid said with an affable smile. “Here you are.”
The officer suddenly shook herself and took the paperwork, glancing up at him and down at the photographs on the small booklet and the hard plastic card. “Your reason for your visit?” she asked.
“Business.”
She nodded, and stamped the requisite page of the passport. “Welcome to the United States.”
“Thank you,” and Stagg slipped the ID card and passport into a trouser pocket before joining the rest of the crowd headed for baggage claim. More than a few people he walked past did double takes, or simply stared at him as his hooves clicked against the floor.
He ignored them. He was used to it, and he’d had Guide training – all native-born Spontoonies had, so if anyone decided to confront him about his appearance he was fully prepared to deal with that.
With his suitcase in paw and after converting an amount of Spontoonie shells to dollars, he found a cab in the taxi rank and headed into the city. His clients were not exactly scrimping, so while the hotel he was staying at wasn’t as large or expensive as the one Wu had stayed at, it was in the city itself.
Frank hadn’t lied to Twyford. He’d been to San Francisco twice before, and his BASE jumping visit had included seeing all of the sights available in the city. So he knew his way around, to a certain extent.
He checked his watch, mentally subtracting four hours before texting his office to let them know he’d arrived before dialing Twyford’s number.
“Hello, law offices of Kent Twyford.”
“Good afternoon. This is Frank Stagg.”
“Oh! Hello, sir. I’m Jack Parsons, Mr. Twyford’s paralegal. He’s not in the office right now.”
“That’s all right. I just wanted to let him know that I’m in the city, and I’d like to make an appointment to meet with him.”
“Yes, sir. He’s in court now; would nine tomorrow morning be good?”
“Yes, that’ll be fine. I have your address, so I can get a ride there,” the hybrid said.
“Yes, sir. I have your appointment set.”
By the time the call ended, the taxi was pulling to a stop at the hotel, and he remembered to tip the driver.
The hotel catered mainly to business people; among its amenities was a very strong and reliable wireless internet connection. After checking in and unpacking, Stagg sent off an email to his office to let them know he had arrived - it never hurt to make sure - before doing a search for a nearby restaurant.
Hmm, Vietnamese; some pho would be perfect.
***
“This is unexpected, Cousin,” Kung Longyan said as he sipped from a glass of fruit juice. He’d already poured a second glass, which now sat beside Ni Lu. “What brings you to Kuo Han?”
Lu grinned and took a drink from his glass. Longyan was family, and could be trusted not to try to poison him. The Kungs had been spirited out of Nanking in 1937 by Lu’s great-grandfather before the Japanese had taken the city. They had become quite wealthy financiers and investors on the archipelago, but like the Nis they had paws in two worlds; the government of the Republic of Kuo Han was firmly in their grasp, and one of the largest cryptocurrency data mining operations on Earth was partly owned by them. “I’m merely passing through, Longyan. On my way to Krupmark.”
“Really? Anything going on there that I need to know about?” The slightly older red panda glanced out the window overlooking the city of Wangchung. The bustling port was Kuo Han’s capital.
“Just positioning myself, in case,” Lu said. “Things further east may require my attention.”
“Ah.” Longyan winked. “Orientals,” and the two red pandas laughed.
“Not quite Easterners,” Lu amended, “but Xia and Jin-tao are trying to get us back into the United States.”
“Ah!” A certain gleam came to Longyan’s eyes, a trait that had earned him the name ‘Dragon Eye.’ It usually manifested itself when the opportunity to earn a profit arose. “And you anticipate problems?”
Lu laughed, once. “Always.” He took another sip of his juice. “I haven’t been over there this year yet.”
“Oh? They should be pleased to see you then,” his cousin said. “I’ve heard that Xia has them pretty terrorized, and not in a good way.”
The chubby red panda chuckled. “I suppose I’ll get as far as Spontoon and have a talk with her. After that, I’ll just wait until I’m needed.”
“You’re that sure you’ll be called?” Lu gave him a look, and Longyan’s banded tail waved. “Never mind; your instincts have always been good,” he said dismissively. “Will you need a plane?”
“If it’s all right with you,” Lu said, “I’d like to stay here for a day or so.”
“You’ll be welcome. The children enjoy seeing their Uncle Lu.”
“Heh. They’ll try to talk me into buying them Christmas presents again.”
“As always. And, as always, you won’t say No to them.” The two red pandas grinned, and Longyan’s expression grew guarded. “Have you heard anything from the Neighbors?”
Lu waggled a paw. “They’ve been closemouthed the past few months, but I have a few ears in Canton – “
“As do I.”
“Really?” The thought seemed to amuse Lu, but it made sense. Like Taiwan, the five islands that made up Kuo Han flew the old Nationalist flag; Kuo Han’s banner incorporated the KMT sunburst with the century-old republican Five Colors. Both were a source of constant irritation to the current government in Beijing, and with his close connection to the Kuomintang’s heirs in Wangchung, Longyan needed to know what the Communists were planning. “Have you heard anything?”
“No. You?”
“Not yet.”
***
The pho had been very tasty, and the proprietor and wait staff couldn’t help staring at him. It didn’t bother Stagg’s appetite at all, and the waitress seemed pleased with her tip. The Spontoonie checked his phone to verify his route before he stepped out onto the sidewalk.
It was after sundown, and about a mile from his hotel, so he started to jog, setting an easy pace to keep the concrete from bothering his hooves too much and pausing at each intersection.
A few pedestrians shook their heads, and his ears caught one canine muttering, “You can see everything here.”
He had to laugh at that.
Returning to his room and hanging up his suit, he spent some time watching television, occasionally shaking his head at the content. The three major networks on Spontoon, the native-run LONO, the foreign-owned LYRC, and Rain Island’s ZYPR all showed American reruns along with domestically-produced content.
The Spontoonies got a portion of their opinion of Americans from television; the rest of it came from watching the tourists that descended on the atoll every summer.
“They call it tourist season / So why can’t we shoot ‘em?” Stagg sang to himself in a quiet voice as he switched away from a tired situation comedy to a sports channel and settled down to watch a football game.
The type of football played in America was more violent than what they called ‘soccer,’ which was what was played in the Spontoons, but it was interesting to watch.
<NEXT>
<PREVIOUS>
<FIRST>
Category Story / General Furry Art
Species Deer
Size 82 x 120px
File Size 47.1 kB
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