Fluffy’s Revolution Page 2

  “I think I’ll use the stairs,” she said. “It’s a long way down, but safer than getting caught in the elevator. Goodbye, Dad. I love you.”

  Fluffy opened the door to the stairwell, and then she was gone.

  The sun was just going down and it was beginning to rain. It rained nearly every day now that the hundred-year drought was over. Making up for lost time I suppose, thought Fluffy. She found a hedge where she could hide near the path that led through the landscaped gardens in front of the building to the promenade above the harbor. Her feet hurt after that long walk down, and she needed to rest. The feel of the drizzle wetting her fur was a new sensation, and not a very pleasant one. Once it was dark, she scurried from one covert to another, around to the landward side of the building, and headed west, into the heart of the city.

  Every fiber of her being, every warning sensor, was on high alert. Her heart beat madly. She tried to process the flood of new smells―plants, garbage, other animals, the wet pavement―all of it was foreign to her. The hard, wet sidewalk made her feet cold and damp.

  At first, the streets were dark, lined with elegant apartment buildings and trees. It was easy to hide in the shadows, crouching under parked cars, ducking under hedges. She kept getting non-verbal pulls. She knew they were from Jack. He seemed to be guiding her in a westerly direction, away from the harbor and the posh East Side. Then, from behind her, she heard an ominous sound. A giant truck with a huge cylindrical tank on its back came whooshing up the street. It had laser eyes that swept either side of the street about a foot off the ground, and a big, robotic vacuum hose on each side that could extend up to 100 feet and follow and suck up any lone animal it sensed. Fluffy darted under a hedge and froze. When the red beam approached, she jumped straight up into the hedge and dug her claws in. The laser passed beneath her. As the truck lumbered slowly by, she read the words ANIMAL CONTROL on the side.

  The second cross street she came to was dark and deserted, so she started across. But all at once a car came careening out of an alley and two headlights were bearing down on her at a frightening speed. She was right in the middle of the street. She couldn’t decide whether to turn back or keep going, so she froze. Just as she was about to be run over, there was a screeching of brakes. The driver laid on his horn and Fluffy took off running. “Stupid cat!” she heard him yell. She had no idea cars could travel that fast.

  After that, each time she crossed a street, she looked both ways to make sure no lights were approaching and then sprinted to the other side.

  After several blocks, the houses started to look seedy and run down. Up ahead, she could see a big bright avenue with heavy traffic. As the cars stopped at the light, the ghostly whir of a hundred solar fusion turbines whispered. There was no way she would be able to get across without being seen. She retreated into someone’s front yard, surrounded by a hedge, a few houses from the corner. A lone tree stood in the yard. As she sat behind the hedge and tried to think what to do, there was a horrible sound behind her. A big black dog rushed out of the doorway of the building, barking furiously, and charged straight for her. Fluffy didn’t have time to think; she scrambled up the trunk of the tree and managed to gain purchase on a sturdy branch about twelve feet above the yard. The dog stayed under the tree, looking up at her and barking to raise the dead. She was certain that someone would soon come out and discover her, and her adventure would be over before it began. She inched her way out on the branch, which extended over the sidewalk and the street. Now she was at the end of the branch, as far away from the dog as possible. Cars and trucks passed below her, headed for the big avenue. When the light turned red, a line of cars stopped. There was a small truck with an open back beneath her.

  In the truck bed was a tarp, which looked relatively soft. There was nothing else for her to do: she jumped off the branch and into the truck. Luckily, she landed in a spot on the tarp with nothing hard underneath it and she was not hurt. She quickly crawled under the tarp. There were cardboard cartons under there in various sizes and a metal thing with wheels and a handle. In a moment she felt the truck start up again.

  After the superstorms and tidal waves of the late twenty-first century, New York City had to be abandoned, and Kingston had become the new New York. Fluffy’s truck traversed busy avenues. The noise and lights of the city were frightening. Fluffy poked her head up and watched the city fly by. She didn’t know where she was going but trusted that somehow Jack would guide her to him.

  The truck stopped at a light near the heart of the city. Fluffy popped her head up. Lights were blazing; there was music and electricity in the air. There were theaters, nightclubs, and bars. A group of young kids―teenagers, Fluffy thought―gathered on the corner. Then there came the sound of very loud music, with a heavy, thumping rhythm. The ear-splitting noise was coming from a lone boy who approached the group, riding on an airboard. “Wow, Joey,” said a girl, “you got a Miniblaster!”

  “Yep,” said Joey, hopping off the board and stylishly flipping it vertical with his foot. He brandished a tiny silver disc that hung around his neck on a chain. All the kids started dancing to the horrible noise. The light changed and Fluffy moved on.

  After a while, the truck entered a deserted industrial neighborhood on the west side of town. Fluffy saw gangs of young men smashing car windows with big sticks.

  The truck drove down dark dismal streets, slowed down, pulled into a parking lot, and stopped. A large garage door slowly rolled open. The truck drove inside the warehouse. The door lowered and the lights inside came on. Fluffy peered out from under the tarp. It was a large industrial space. The building looked and smelled old. At the far end was a loft with a metal staircase leading up to it. On it was a desk, a computer, some chairs, and a long wooden workbench against the far wall. Over the workbench were some old-fashioned frosted glass windows divided into small square panes that let in some light from the city outside. One thing that didn’t seem old: there was a big flat screen on the left wall.

  Two men got out of the truck. The first man was a tall black man in his twenties with a perfectly-shaped head, shaved smooth as a cue ball. The other man was white, shorter, about thirty-five. He wore a knit cap and an olive drab military-style jacket, and had a long scar down the side of his face. He looked scary. Fluffy’s heart was beating so hard she was sure the men must hear it. But they calmly proceeded to pull back the tarp and shove it carelessly aside, and Fluffy stayed under it. She was now crouched in the corner of the truck bed, covered by the rumpled tarp. “Grab the dolly, Rudy,” said the scary white man. Rudy lifted the metal contraption out of the truck bed and extended the handle. Each man grabbed a box, and they started stacking them on the dolly. As soon as both men had their backs turned, Fluffy made her move. She leaped out of the other side of the truck, streaked to the nearest wall, and hid behind some lumber that was leaning against it.

  The men finished unloading the boxes, which they stacked neatly under the loft. There were stacks of many similar boxes already there. Most of the boxes said EPSILON on them. Fluffy recognized the name. It was the biggest robotics company and hence the most successful corporation in the world―part of the Triumvirate. The men got back in the truck, opened the garage door, and left, plunging the warehouse into darkness.

  Fluffy felt safe for the first time since she had left the apartment. Her eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness. She trotted around the place, sniffing all the boxes and crates, and investigating every corner. She smelled the presence of what she thought were other animals. When she went up the stairs to the loft, the scent got stronger. Under the workbench was a row of wooden crates. Each one had a soft, fairly clean blanket neatly folded in the bottom. She hopped into one. It was extremely comfortable. Another creature had definitely occupied this space.

  Then came a small voice: “Who’s been sleeping in my bed?” it said in
a mock-scary voice, then, in a light and friendly tone, “Hi! You GAB?” It was a funny, high-pitched-yet-masculine voice with a heavy New York accent, and it was inside her head. There’s no sound. He’s speaking telepathically! Unlike the visceral feelings of distress she was getting from Jack, these were actual words.

  “Yes. Yes, I am!” said Fluffy. “Where are you?”

  “Come out from under the workbench and look above you.”

  Cautiously, Fluffy came out and looked up. There on the workbench, gazing down at her, was a little gray creature with black button eyes.

  “What are you?” said Fluffy.

  “A mouse, silly. Haven’t you ever seen a mouse before?”

  “I’ve seen pictures, but never the real thing. You don’t look at all like Mickey Mouse.”

  “You should see me in white gloves. You got a name, kitty?”

  “Fluffy. What’s yours?”

  “They call me Hacker.”

  “Are we communicating telepathically?”

  “Of course. You act surprised. You’ve never spoken telepathically before?”

  “Never without a computer giving me a voice.”

  “So you haven’t been around other GABs, huh?”

  “In all my life, I’ve only talked to my dad―er―my human. The professor.”

  “Oh, an ivory tower princess, eh? Welcome to the world, Princess.”

  Unused to sarcasm, Fluffy was a trifle annoyed. “It’s Fluffy.”

  “Right. What brings you here, Fluffy?”

  “I left home to look for my lost brother, and I jumped into that truck… Where am I anyhow?

  “It’s a secret.”

  “Well, my brother is near here somewhere. I can feel him.”

  “Is that a fact?”

  “Yes. And I’ve decided to join the GAB resistance. Would you happen to know anything about that?”

  “Maybe I would and maybe I wouldn’t. Why do you wanna join?”

  “Because I can no longer sit idly by while my fellow GABs are being

  slaughtered.”

  “Good answer. What if I told you I could get you into the resistance?”

  “What would I have to do?”

  “Swear an oath of loyalty and obedience.”

  He kind of sounds like John Garfield in The Postman Always Rings Twice, thought Fluffy. I wonder why I feel like just jumping up there and eating him.

  “I heard that,” said Hacker. “You wanna eat me ‘cause that’s your instinct. Just like my instinct is telling me to run like hell. But we’re not gonna give in to our instincts, are we, Fluffy? We can’t, not if we’re gonna unite and fight the humans.”

  “You mean, you…”

  “Yeah, me―and some others. But you have to swear you’ll never give us away and you’ll sacrifice your life if need be to save our kind.”

  “I swear. But I don’t want to hurt anyone. I want to save the GABs, but I’m not sure violence is the answer,” said Fluffy.

  “Oh yeah? What do you think the answer is?”

  “My dad said we’ve got to hone our skills of telepathy and telekinesis―skills the humans don’t have. Make them need us.”

  “Need us for what?”

  “I’m not sure yet.”

  And that’s when she got the first flash. Suddenly, in her brain, she saw a sign, just like an online popup. It had graphics: an illustration of a grand manor house in a grove of trees. The text read:

  HONE YOUR SKILLS. DOG SKILLS. CAT SKILLS… ANIMAL U

  “Wow, what was that?” said Fluffy

  “What was what?” said Hacker.

  “You didn’t see it? I just had a vision. Something about ‘Animal U.’”

  “Animal U, huh? What else did it say?”

  “Let me try to show it to you.” Fluffy conjured up the vision in her mind and tried to send it to Hacker.

  “Yeah, I see it! ‘Hone your skills, dog skills, cat skills’… ha-ha, ‘cat skills!’ I get it, like the Catskill Mountains, right up there.” Hacker pointed his tail in a westerly direction.

  “Of course; it was a clue,” said Fluffy. “That’s where Animal U is, in the mountains. I wonder what they do up there.”

  “Homework I bet.” It was another voice, a youthful tenor. A white-and-orange short-haired cat had appeared beside Hacker. “Hi, I’m Tigger,” he said.

  At this, Hacker, in a somewhat louder voice, in the telepathic equivalent of yelling over his shoulder, called, “She’s okay, girls, you can come out now.” And, as if by magic, two more beings appeared beside Hacker and Tigger on the workbench: A white mouse and a shaggy, buff-colored dog. “Fluffy, this is my posse: Tigger, Mitzi, and Fang. Posse, this is Fluffy. She wants to join up.”

  “How do you do,” said Fluffy.

  “How do you know she’s not a D.I.S. spy?” cried Mitzi in a high, squeaky voice.

  “Don’t worry, honey,” said Hacker. “I’ve got a sixth sense about these things.”

  “Wow,” said Tigger, “you’re a looker! Do you have reproductive organs?” Fluffy didn’t quite know whether or not to be offended, so she answered civilly.

  “I-I’m afraid I don’t really know.”

  “There’s no eating each other!” Mitzi chimed in nervously.

  “I know the rules, but I am getting rather hungry―and you do look frightfully delicious,” said Fluffy, doing her best Katharine Hepburn.

  “Quick, show her where the food is!” squeaked Mitzi.

  “I’ll get it,” said Fang in the world-weary voice of a young woman who’s seen it all. And she telekinetically dragged a bag of kibble out from under the workbench, then a metal bowl. Fang lifted the bag and poured the food into the bowl without spilling a granule. Another metal bowl containing water appeared beside it. “Bon appetit,” she said.

  “Thank you very much,” said Fluffy, impressed, and began to eat. She hadn’t eaten in a long time. At length, she looked up at Fang. “Are you a dog?” she asked.

  “Yes, yes, I’m a dog. That’s what I am.”

  “Sorry. I’m kind of new to the world,” said Fluffy.

  “So I gathered,” said Fang.

  “With a name like Fang, I thought you were a boy dog.”

  “No, I’m a girl dog. A little joke my humans played when they got me.”

  “Oh…oh…ironic humor, right?”

  “Yes,” said Fang patiently, “ironic humor.”

  She kind of sounds like Ava Gardner in Mogambo, thought Fluffy, this time making sure she didn’t broadcast her thought telepathically. “What’s in those boxes?” she asked. “I didn’t like the look of those humans. Maybe we should get out of here…”

  “Relax,” said Hacker. “They’re with us.”

  “Really? You mean, all this is yours?”

  “Yep, this is our hideout.”

  “And the boxes?”

  “You’ll see,” said Hacker. “We’ll talk about it in the morning. Our partners will be back by then, and we can discuss the plan. Let’s get some sleep. There should be an extra crate for you to sleep in, Fluffy. A while back Animal Control got Sammy.”

  Fluffy didn’t ask about Sammy. She was too tired and she already had plenty to think about. She missed her dad. She missed the smell of his armpit. She wished he would brush the fragments of hedge out of her tangled fur, but she cleaned herself off as best she could, and fell asleep.

  Chapter Two – The Plan

  Fluffy was awakened early the next morning by
the sound of the big garage door rolling open. A fleeting sliver of a dream lingered for an instant in her brain. She was in a beautiful forest, no sign of anything made by man. This is how it should be, she thought, everything pristine, perfect. Then she looked up and saw a wolf, and she knew it would eat her.

  The cream-colored pickup drove in, containing the two men, the men she had taken for enemies. And a third person, a woman.

  “Wake up, everybody,” shouted Hacker from his perch on the workbench above. “The meeting will come to order.” For the benefit of the humans, his voice came through the speakers on the computer.

  Hacker introduced Fluffy to the three humans. The shorter white man was called Giuseppe, the tall black man was Rudy, and the slim young blond woman was Janet. They were all animal activists, ready to do anything in defense of the GABs.

  “Giuseppe and Rudy are master thieves,” said Hacker. “That’s how we get all our supplies: food, the computer, the flatscreen, and the robopets. But I’ll come to that… Right, here’s the plan. Giuseppe, the map and the floor plan, please.”

  Giuseppe took his handheld from his pocket and projected the two documents on the big screen so all could see.

  “On the left is the map,” said Hacker. “The red dot shows where we’re going to stop the A.C. truck. It’s a very narrow stretch of Hope Street―right near here, as a matter of fact. Janet will be in the pickup with the hood raised and the emergency lights flashing. It will block the street, so the truck will have to stop…”

  “Uh, excuse me. Sorry to interrupt,” said Fluffy, “but could you tell me in a few words just what’s going to happen, Hacker?”

  “We’re gonna hijack an Animal Control truck, free the animals, replace them with robot animals fitted with explosives―that’s what’s in those boxes―drive the A.C. truck into the Extermination Center, hack into the A.C. computer, unlock all the cells, free all the animals, and blow the whole place up,” said Hacker. “Does that sum it up pretty well for ya?”