Blondie leaned back on a comfortable chair, holding a book with a futuristic city with a pair of men on it. Mr. Tolle sat beside him, his focus toward the oval window, facing out at the jet’s wing as it broke through a cloud. The plane itself zoomed high in the air, on its course to England, as the sun rose from the horizon.

Mr. Tolle shrugged before turning to Blondie. “How’s the book?”

Blondie closed the book, The Caves of Steel, with his thumb between the pages. “A curious read, though I never got Asimov’s Three Laws of Robotics.” Mr. Tolle tilted his head, and Blondie sighed. “The three laws are treated as universal as Newton’s law of universal gravitation, yet even in his stories, they are fallible. It seems silly that they’re used as a base guideline despite the obvious loopholes and how literal robots can and do take it as. I wouldn’t be surprised if someone wrote a story about how robots took over humanity as the best way to protect them from themselves, forced them to live in gilded cages because they took the three laws literally.”

Mr. Tolle chucked, with Blondie raising an eyebrow in response. “Sorry. To think that just a couple of years ago, you only read Tolkien’s work and resisted all attempts at broadening your interests. Yet, here you are ranting about a plot element from Asimov’s work.”

Blondie blinked, shifting away. “I guess.”

“Don’t be shy. I’m proud of you.” Mr. Tolle patted Blondie’s shoulder, who grunted in response. “I’m sure I’ll get you to read the Mistborn series someday. That author does plenty of neat stuff.”

Blondie rolled his eyes before tipping his hat back. “Maybe.” His ears twitched, and he twisted around. Coyote and Jackal stepped between the seats before approaching him, Coyote still holding his plush. “Anything wrong?”

“We’ll be landing in a half hour,” Coyote answered, though he shifted his eyes back at Jackal several times. “And while anthropomorphic animals walking among us aren’t unknown, especially because of a few newsworthy incidents from the last few years, they still raise some eyebrows. So, we have something that can help you blend in.” Coyote dug into his pocket, with a slip of paper falling off, before he pulled out a necklace with a blue gem. The gem emitted a slight glow. “With this—hey!”

Blondie already reached down and picked up the slip of paper, him skimming through what words were written on it:

“The heck is this?” Blondie asked, blinking as Coyote yanked it from his grip. “Not going to tell me.”

“It’s private,” Coyote said, shaking his head. “We’re on a mission,” Jackal rolled his eyes. “And it’s irrelevant anyways. So just forget about it.” Blondie shrugged and Coyote continued. “Anyway, I was going to say that we want you to wear this.” He held the necklace up. “As long as you wear this, you’ll turn human.” Blondie twitched. “It won’t be permanent. It’ll only last as long as you’re wearing it.”

Blondie shook his head, opening his book again and gazing down at its pages. “No.”

“Be reasonable, Blondie.” Coyote squeezed his plush as Jackal shook his head. “You’ll stick out like a sore thumb. The other option is that you’ll be confined in the base until you’re needed.”

“If it’s between becoming human and being confined, I’ll pick the latter any day,” Blondie said, not looking up.

Coyote turned to Mr. Tolle. He responded with an apologetic shrug and Coyote sighed, pocketing the necklace. Jackal frowned, shaking his head, even as he pulled Coyote away. However, Coyote resisted. His expression became thoughtful with his foot hovering an inch away from the floor, even as Jackal half-closed his eyes. Finally, Coyote stepped back, releasing himself from Jackal’s grip while digging into his pockets again. Blondie sighed, rolling his eyes.

“I just remembered my latest invention.” Coyote pulled out a necklace that held a fist-sized bronze gear. “One that I’ve been perfecting for years.”

Blondie sighed, closing his book while keeping his thumb between the pages. “It’s a gear, Wild Coyote.” Blondie rolled his eyes. “They’ve been around for years.”

“Ah. That’s done for aesthetic.” Coyote flipped the gear around, which held an up and down button and a digital screen above it. “You ever wonder why our FOXWOOD base hasn’t been discovered despite being planted underground below a city, powered by nuclear, and having one of the entrances a hotel room and another a hidden landing pad? It’s because of technology that’s been building up to this!” He pointed at the gear. “This is what I call a perception filter!”

Blondie half-closed his eyes in a sarcastic manner. “What?”

“It’s one of my most ingenious inventions yet!” Coyote grinned wide as Jackal pulled out a thin white cylinder no longer than his hand. “The greatest difficulty of making a stealth system is that curiosity can be overwhelming, especially if someone detects something off. Like a pattern that happens with pinpoint accuracy with no discernable reason or an object that doesn’t fit its surroundings.” He wore it around his neck. “Can you see me?”

Blondie rolled his eyes. “Yes.”

Coyote pressed the up button a few times. “How about now?”

Blondie blinked. Coyote’s voice becoming fuzzy. He strained his ears for a sound but got little more. He turned a bit, only spotting a blur of a white lab coat. Jackal tossed the cylinder up, landing on something midway before landing with a ding as Coyote laughed. Blondie turned to Mr. Tolle, his gaze more unfocused than his. A fuzzy laugh echoed and Blondie attempted to reach for Coyote, but his grip grasped air instead.

“Where are you?” Blondie asked, dropping the book.

Coyote laughed and he carried the gear necklace with a couple of fingers. “I never left. You did well resisting its effect, much better than Mr. T’s attempts. I had to move away from your arm.” He bent down and picked up the cylinder, returning it to Jackal, who pocketed it. “It must’ve looked like I was invisible, with it landing midair for a moment, right?”

“It-it did,” Mr. Tolle said, rubbing the back of his head. “And I barely heard anything.” Coyote adjusted the gear some more. “What is that?”

“As I said, this is a perception filter!” Coyote handed it to Blondie, who flipped it over a few times. “It transmits a signal that causes people to look away, instinctively ignoring you. You could go through a fortress full of armed forces at its highest setting, and no one will notice you.”

“So, that’s how you managed to keep your bases hidden?” Mr. Tolle asked, rubbing his chin as Coyote nodded.

“Yup!” Coyote pressed both of his hands behind his head. “Though that’s one of the two portable ones I’ve created. The other one—” Jackal grabbed Coyote’s shoulder. And squeezed. He nodded. “Er, no need to worry about the other one.” Blondie raised an eyebrow before taking off his hat to wear the gear necklace. “Regardless, as long as you’re wearing it under the appropriate settings, no one will notice you. Here are a couple of warnings, though. First is that, while it is possible to affect even close ones with the filter, it requires a stronger signal for it to work.” Jackal kept his eyes on Coyote. “The second is that the filter will fail if you do something that’ll attract attention to yourself. To add to the fortress example, while you could get close to the fortress’s commander, you’ll attract everyone’s attention if you do something like assassination.”

“Got it,” Blondie said, putting his hat back on. “I find this to be acceptable.”

Coyote nodded before rubbing one of his ears. “If you don’t mind me asking, Blondie, why don’t you want to be human?”

Blondie flipped open his book to read once more, his ears flattened back. Mr. Tolle shrugged at Coyote, whose grin grew strained before he sighed. Before he could get a chance to speak, Jackal clenched his shoulder tight and dragged him back a couple of feet. Coyote blinked before he sighed, turning around and following Jackal out.

Mr. Tolle raised an eyebrow as the door closed behind Coyote and Jackal. “For someone half a head shorter than Wild Coyote, Thunder Jackal can be forceful.”

Blondie hummed in response, not looking up from The Caves of Steel.

Sharon sat before a desk, her arms crossed as her tail remained still, half-curled up. This room was small, enough to fit a desk and up to three people, with the only light shining above her. A couple of framed blueprints hung on the walls beside her, with Sharon discerning the various diagrams, lines, and even a few texts despite the heavy shadows. Yet, she waited, with footsteps coming from the lone door across her as her ears twitched and the door swung open.

A lady wearing a black suit stepped in, her heels clicking against the hard floor opposite Sharon. Her green-blue eyes shined in the lone light, her ginger hair tied in a ponytail, and her cheeks angular. She held a folder under her arm, which she set on the table. Her nametag with the name River Hill reflected in the light. Sharon uncrossed her arms, putting one of them on the table, with her pink claw rubbing the desk’s surface.

“My programmers managed to examine the data you downloaded.” River opened the folder. “However, nothing incriminating about Harris was in any of that data. And thanks to that chat that you thankfully recorded,” River’s voice became poisonous sweet even as Sharon narrowed her eyes, “I know that he is onto me.”

River handed various papers to Sharon, each with a house layout. It held details from the floor’s setup to the electrical and gas structure to the house’s exterior. Sharon picked each one up and looked at them so they remained in her memory. She handed them back to River. She felt her head overheat and rubbed it, her tail twitching behind her.

“I’m sure you know what you must do,” River said. When Sharon kept staring at her, she added, “A gas line fault would be an unfortunate accident.”

Sharon nodded before tapping her claw on the table, tapping fast at times and other times slow.

“I’m afraid you can’t,” River said. Sharon frowned, clenching her other hand-paw tight. “Because of your surprise appearance on Harris’s ship a couple of nights ago, he got paranoid. And instead of hiding away, withdrawing from combating me, he decided to bring FOXWOOD into the mix.”

Sharon tapped on the table once more.

“Think of them like a private superpower. In fact, much of our recent successes is because I had inside knowledge of them.” River reached up to her earring. “You can thank them as well.” Sharon rolled her eyes and River smirked. “However, this is no laughing matter. They managed to take down REA, my hated rivals from America. And if they managed to find me out, it’ll likely take everything to stop them. And because of you, I’m afraid the planned meeting with her is called off.” Sharon clenched her fist as River smiled wider. “But I may change my mind if you managed to deal with Harris under their noses. Understand?”

Sharon frowned deeper, but nodded.

“Very good,” River said, standing up with her folder under her arm. “And don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll meet her again.”

Sharon tapped on the table again and River chuckled, turning to the door. She swung it open before stepping through, closing the door behind her while Sharon glared at her back. Once she left her sight, Sharon turned to her hand-paw. She splayed them out while her ears drooped forward. She shook her head, pressing her hand-paw against her chest.

Blondie sat at the back of a car, The Caves of Steel in hand-paw, as Jackal drove onward. Vixen sat on the passenger’s left side, staring out the window while rubbing her right ear. Jackal wore a green vest over a black long-sleeve shirt while Vixen wore long and thick brown gloves, long enough that reach her blue shirt’s sleeves. The red car drove into a forest with hills and grassland behind him, the only sounds being the car’s hum and Blondie’s page flipping.

They entered a clearing where a large house sat. They parked the car in front of the house and Blondie raised an eyebrow at it. Half of the house lie underneath the ground from behind and part of the left side. Tire tracks covered the bottom on the right side, with footprints on the left. Blondie reached down and adjusted the gear’s setting to seven. He waited as Jackal and Vixen stepped out from the car, closing the doors behind them.

Seconds later, a pair of guards stepped out from the left side while pointing guns at Jackal and Vixen. The left one said, “A red car is highly visible in a sea of green.”

“But acting obvious is more subtle as long as it isn’t out of place,” Vixen replied.

Jackal placed one of his hands in his tan pants pocket.

The guards nodded, with the right one pulling out a radio and raising it against his face. “They’re here.”

Blondie shifted to the house, with the light yellow door swinging open and Harris Jackson stepping out. His thick glasses shined in the sunlight as he stepped down the stairs, passing by the porch’s wooden pillars. His tight black shoes tapped against the wood and cobblestone before approaching Jackal and Vixen.

“I’m so glad you came,” Harris said, nodding enough that his upper body half swayed with him. His watery green eyes became visible under his glasses for a moment. “I wasn’t sure that you’ll accept.”

“We handled threats and problems like the one you face,” Vixen said, smiling. “And we have our reasons to accept.”

Jackal crossed his arms.

“Good. Then, shall we take this inside?” Harris asked, swinging his arm toward the house. The steps lead up to the ground floor with two other floors above.

“That would be nice,” Vixen said. Both she and Jackal followed Harris back to his house, with Vixen rubbing one of the wooden pillars along the way.

The three stepped inside, with the guards standing beside the door, watching outward.

Blondie grunted, turning back to his book. He flipped through the pages until he got to the end. He groaned, rubbing one of his ears as he sat The Caves of Steel beside him. He turned to the house’s door with temptation building as he grabbed onto the car handle. He stopped himself however, the guards not inching away.

“Perhaps it’s for the best,” Blondie said, flopping back. “Their discussions will likely be dry.”

He turned to one of the car’s compartments, settled between the driver’s and passenger’s seat. Interest build up with him until popped it open and he leaned forward. Plenty of loose change, paperwork, and a couple of books lay within. Blondie leaned forward. He raised an eyebrow before he chuckled softly, reaching in and pulling out one of the books: a hardcover copy of The Silmarillion.

“Now, this is a prize.” Blondie flipped it open and started to read through this grand prize.

By the time Blondie read about the first Elves awakening under the stars, the house’s door swung open. Vixen and Jackal stepped down, with the guards following. Vixen held onto a tape recorder with a stern expression. Harris stood on the porch, waving at the two as they opened the car. Blondie turned up Jackal and Vixen stepped in.

“That’s one discussion I’m afraid of facing again,” Vixen said, pocketing the tape recorder.

Jackal nodded before glancing down at the open compartment and then at Blondie.

Blondie shrugged before handing the book back, with Jackal accepting it. “I finished The Caves of Steel and wanted to read another book to pass the time. I hope you don’t mind, especially since I enjoy Tolkien’s work.”

“Oh, that’s Jackal’s copy of The Silmarillion,” Vixen said, blinking. “I’m afraid that—”

“No, it’ss alright,” Jackal said, putting it back into the compartment as Vixen flinched. “From one fan to another.”

“Indeed.” Blondie could not stop his eye twitching as Jackal started the car. Harris stood outside for a few seconds before stepping back into the house. “So, found out anything useful?”

“He gave his account of what he witnessed from that attack.” Vixen stiffened the car rolled out. “Figured we start with the basic there, though much of it has collaborated from other eyewitnesses and security footage. He also added what he was doing at the time, which might be related to why that anthro shark, or ‘shark lady’ as he called her, was on his ship.”

“Oh?” Blondie tilted his head as the car drove on into the forest. “What would that be?”

“He explained that he was talking to Kenton about MFS,” Vixen answered. When Blondie’s expression remained blank, she added, “Think of them as a European version of REA.”

“Oh.” Blondie narrowed his eyes and his expression darkened.

“Yeah. Unlike REA, which focused on biological research, MFS is more interested in machinery and software.” Vixen paused, the car feeling much colder than before. “But they began acting oddly when River Hill took over as owner. We’ll need to relisten to the audio.” Vixen patted her pocket where the tape recorder lay. “Harris used a lot of legal jargon to explain why they acted odd. The most I understood was that they bypassed red tape by purchasing companies from third-world countries that any other company would be deep in.”

“But what you’re telling me,” Blondie said, his voice steady and cold, “if this ‘MFS’ is involved, they likely created another one of me for their use.”

“It is possible, yes,” Vixen replied, rubbing her ear. “It isn’t certain, though. In his research, Coyote may find something of note that might increase the likelihood, but don’t get your hopes up.”

Blondie sighed, shaking his head. “Regardless, we’re dealing with someone or a group that managed to get FOXWOOD equipment.”

Vixen turned forward as she rubbed the back of her head. Blondie turned to the window, a ghostly reflection on the glass. Through it, he saw within his head an image of a college student hooked in wires, strapped within a tank filled with liquid. The human changed into an anthro arctic fox, who opened his green eyes.

Soon, that image morphed into one with the anthro shark within the tank and clenched against the door handle. He returned to reality, Blondie twisted back, with the car already driving out of the forest. He rubbed his revolver’s grip as the trees got left behind. His expression became stern.

“Stop the car,” Blondie said, turning forward as Vixen blinked. “Do it.”

Vixen turned back to Blondie, confusion written all over her face. Jackal grunted and pulled over. Once the red car stopped, Blondie unbuckled himself before opening the car and stepping out. The stony ground pressed up against his large feet-paws, but he shut the door behind him. The window on Jackal’s side lowered and Vixen poked her head through the window, getting on top of him in the process.

Blondie set his hand-paws on the car roof and leaned forward. “I’m going to stay around the perimeters.” Jackal tilted his head to the side. “If this shark lady is a part of a revived Project LONGE, then those two guards Harris has will be nothing more than a speed bump.”

“But we don’t know if she even is planning an attack,” Vixen said, shaking her head. “You could be staying here all night for nothing. Besides, our base is over a hundred miles away.”

“And I once carried a cow for three miles over my shoulders,” Blondie said with a sly grin. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. Heck, I may just run all the way there.” He rubbed the gear necklace. “Or maybe just hitch a ride.”

Vixen remained doubtful, but nodded. “OK. Just be careful, especially with that gun. Having a gun without proper licenses is illegal.”

Jackal rolled his eyes.

“It was illegal in Australia too, where I got it,” Blondie said.

Without waiting for a response, he ran back down the road.

Sharon snuck between the trees, her overcoat sliding against the ground. The silk-like surface shifted, becoming a mix of green or brown depending on the angle. The stars peak between the branches above. She moved with no leaf crunching or branch snapping beneath her, gazing ahead with the night a grayish world to her.

Lights popped up ahead and her movements slowed. She ducked from tree to tree as she approached. Sharon kept her eyes forward until the house’s outline became visible, facing its back. She closed her eyes, the image of the house’s silhouette appearing before her, and she focused on the gas lines. She opened her eyes again, creeping from tree to tree to the left without a sound. A shifting sound came from the side, and she twisted around. Her vision malfunctioned for a moment, and she shook her head.

Sharon flattened her ears back, her vision clearing without spotting anyone. She strode once more from tree to tree until she stood in front of the house’s garage. The image of the house plans appeared before her again, the garage having the main gas line. She reached into her pocket, pulling out a remote with a digital dial and a pair of buttons, with one arrow pointing up and the other pointing down.

She adjusted the dial—

An arm grabbed her neck, yanking her back as she fliched from the force. Her body moved, sending her elbow back at this mysterious figure. It got block instead and she gritted her teeth. She shifted her eyes down and she raised her booted foot-paw before slamming hard against it.

The figure grunted, stumbling back as Sharon twisted around. She tilted her head at him, this stranger dressing like some kind of cowboy. His white-furred body and long white tail attracted her attention, and she paused. He steadied himself, the gear necklace bouncing on and off his chest, his green eyes meeting her yellow.

“Must say, it took me some time to spot you.” The anthro arctic fox’s dirty blond hair rubbing against his eye, which he brushed aside. “I’m impressed.”

Sharon frowned, suggestions popping up on how to deal with this unaccounted threat, yet she remained still. Centimeter by centimeter, she reached into her pocket, placing the remote in before withdrawing a knife, its blade black. The anthro arctic fox shook his head, and she paused.

“I’m not interested in fighting you. If I was, you’d already be dead.” He pulled back his poncho, a Colt Peacemaker .45 LC hanging within a holster, and Sharon frowned. “So, who are you, and what do you want?”

Sharon’s tail twitched as she extended her hand-paw and knocked against a tree, alternating from fast and slow. The anthro arctic fox folded his right ear to the side. He stepped forward, and she drew her knife. He paused with confusion written all over his face. Sharon bent her knees low, farther than her toes and with the right in front of the left.

“Is there anything wrong?” He asked and Sharon twitched her right eye. “Listen, I’m Blondie. I know you don’t trust me.” She narrowed her eyes, “OK, really don’t trust me. But I believe that you’re a former human, yes?”

Sharon squeezed her knife tight, clenching her teeth as Blondie nodded.

“I knew it. Listen to me. I know how you feel. We’re very much the same. I—”

Sharon charged ahead, closing the five-meter gap between them in a quarter of a second. He drew his gun, but she kicked it out from his grip before swinging her fist at his face. He raised his arm up, knocking her fist off course. Keeping with the momentum, she swung her knee up. She slammed it against his lower right ribs, with him gasping as he fell.

Sharon stood before him, with a suggestion about finishing him off appearing before her. She flipped her knife a bit before swinging it down. He raised his large foot-paw, kicking it out from her hands. She blinked, Blondie spinning forward as she stepped back.

“Terrific blows,” Blondie said, clenching his fist tight, standing in the same battle stance Sharon was on. “My turn.”

Before Sharon’s body could react, Blondie charged forward, slamming his fist just below her chest with a cracking sound. She flinched from the force and Blondie slammed his other fist against her mouth. She stumbled and fell on her back as a couple of her teeth fell on the ground. Blondie stepped forward, setting his large foot-paw on her stomach.

“I was once a human, too,” Blondie said, pressing her belly hard enough so she could not move. “And I was kidnapped and turned into this as part of a super-soldier project. I bet the same happened with you.”

Sharon glared and, gripping his foreleg, dug her pink claws deep into it, bits of blood flowing out. Blondie yelped, lifting his foot-paw off, and she rolled out from under him. She got up, slamming her fist against his left cheek even as he grunted, but he recovered and punched her in her chest, with more cracking sound coming from it. He blinked and wiggled his nose, and she swung her fist at him. He lifted his left arm up, blocking it even as a cracking sound came from it. He winced from the pain.

She swung her leg at him, but he ducked underneath, his hat blown off. When he got up, he turned his right fist at her. She leaned to the side and he struck a tree instead, with tree bark flying out from it. He grunted and pulled his fist out, a dent formed where he punched. She swung her leg at him, and Blondie jumped back. Her kick instead slammed that tree, with just as much tree bark flying off.

Blondie grunted and charged at Sharon, grabbing her neck and squeezing. She slammed her fist against his left side three times, with him wincing with every punch until he released his grip. As she stepped back, he sprinted forward, slamming his knee against her right side. More cracking noises came from the impact and Sharon felt some fluids flowing out. She stumbled back, falling down as Blondie rubbed his side.

“I knew what I was expecting,” he said as he crouched, with Sharon crawling back. “But I must admit that you’re tough. But please, I have an offer—”

Sharon shifted her eyes before grabbing her knife and spinning up, charging. Blondie rolled back, and when he got up, his revolver was in his hand. He got up, pulling back its hammer as Sharon pushed her knife against his neck. His firearm pressed against her chest, and she glanced down.

The two stood there, still as statues, their eyes on each other. Sharon narrowed her eyes even as Blondie’s breathing became steadied Neither made another move; the only sound was a dripping noise, as though timing them on their next move. Sharon twitched her ears, trying to calculate the speed between them; the best suggestion was to wait.

Lights from torches came from the side. “It came from over there! Intruders!”

Sharon tightened her grip against her knife, but she pulled it back, with Blondie lowering his revolver. She turned to the coming torches before sprinting away, not bothering to avoid any branches or trees. A warning came to her regarding her body’s temperature, but she kept running until she came to the forest’s edge. There, she rubbed her side, with more liquids flowing out.

She turned back as though tempted to return, but she reached into a pocket, pulling out a small alert device. She pressed it, with it beeping as it transmitted a signal to her pickup. She found herself split in two, glancing back once more. The suggestion that popped up told her to wait, her body temperature steady, Blondie’s image burned into her memory even as she stood there.