Darkside Encounter Rick Hobson Onward@cableone.net Written by & copyright of Rick Hobson Onward@cableone.net Featuring Laretta (Cassie's rhythm guitarist) and Ben Moss (Laretta's boyfriend) Cassie, the Rock & Roll Vixen http://www.cassietherockvixen.furtopia.org Please read the prequil, "All In A Night's Work," featuring Featuring Laretta (Cassie's rhythm guitarist) and Cindy (Cassie's bassist) http://www.cassietherockvixen.furtopia.org/all_in_a_nights_work.txt Please read the sequil, "Winds Of Autumn" featuring Cassie, Foxonian and Dominic at http://www.cassietherockvixen.furtopia.org/winds_of_autumn.txt All characters copyright Rick Hobson except Laretta, who is copyright Andre' Cotton and Cassie the Rock Vixen, who is copyright Earl Bacon Ben walked along the sidewalk, bewildered. It all felt so strange. The mouse listened to the padding of his feet on the sidewalk, turning his head to watch the traffic of this warm city evening pass by in the street. Inside the cars, oblivious to him or much of anything beyond their own lives, other mice chatted on cell phones, sang to their car radios, or did any of the other things drivers do. Bit of litter, the flotsam of civilized life, lay in the gutter. A gum wrapper shimmered in the bluish light of the street lights. The air hummed with car horns, motor noises and the hum of air conditioning. It was all his size. His scale. The mouse simply wasn't used to this. Ben and his people were recombs, created genetically by humans to serve some purpose in their society. Over time, the free-willed mice and other creatures created blended into human society. But some had blended more successfully than others. There were real, physical differences which caused mice to always be apart from the others. Being two inches tall, on average, kept Ben's people from joining in on many of the activities others enjoyed. Oh, there were benefits to being a mouse. His people seemed so adaptable in many ways. Their small size also gave them advantages in the creation of electronic components and in delicate surgical procedures. It was his knowledge of miniature electronics that brought Ben to the city of his kind. During the long absorption of anthromorphs into human society, certain species found it natural to form their own communities. This wasn't anything new; every large human city had its Chinatown or Little Russia. The mice had grouped together for protection and economic benefit. This city was a hub for the design and manufacture of miniature electronics, and occasionally business would bring Ben here. This had been a particularly good visit, the company the mouse worked for had liked his new designs, and had given him a bonus for work well done. The same train which had brought the mouse to this place would leave in the morning, back to the world of giants. Tonight the mouse would live a few hours in a world his scale. Ben glanced at a movement in a shadowy alley he passed. A stray ant, the size of a large house cat to the mouse, rummaged noisily through an overturned garbage can. The mouse shuddered as he watched the alien creature pulp some unidentifiable bit of waste in its mandibles and eat it. He hurried on, hoping that a police-mouse would happen along quickly and dispose of the creature. Ant swarms could be dangerous. As could other things that hid in the shadows and alleys. The mouse walked on, his ears perked to the music drifting out from the bars he passed. There was a large university nearby, and the downtown section of the city catered to the evening and weekend needs of the student body. Tonight, being a Tuesday, was quieter. Still, the taverns seemed to be doing a reasonable business, the smell of beer and cooking food filled the air. The mouse grinned as he passed a doorway, the mouse pausing. A large TV flickered inside, showing the bright images of a rock concert in full swing. Of course the mouse recognized the vixen who was in the throws of covering an old 'Heart' tune. It was Cassie. By her side, grey fur shining under the lights, was Laretta. It was very clear that the wolfette, the mouse's girlfriend, loved her work. As Cassie ended her line the music swelled, filling the ballad as Laretta ran with her guitar solo. The Fender wailed and sang, the audience cheering her on. The mouse checked his watch. Laretta was going to meet him at the airport, for a quick hello and a coffee as she waited for a transfer flight to catch up with Cassie and the band somewhere else. It wasn't normal for creatures Laretta's size to use the airport for the mouse city, but in this instance there was a transfer flight scheduled. And Laretta being famous did make many things possible. Ben grinned, watching his love's guitar solo on the screen as he sat on a stool at the bar. She had a wonderful way with strings... and other small things which needed dexterity to handle. Standing next to Laretta, Ben could barely reach her ankle by stretching. Indeed, when the wolf-girl wore her pumps, the mouse could easily stand under the arch of her foot. That he and she were lovers amazed him at times, but most of the time it seemed the most natural thing in the world. "I've always liked this group, you know." Ben perked his ears and nodded at the barkeep's words as the latter set an ordered beer before him. "Taped this concert last week, when it was rebroadcast on cable." Ben nodded with a wink. "I like them too. They have a way with those old ballads, don't they." The mouse reached for his drink, noticing for the first time the group of rough-looking rodents sitting at a smokey table directly in the glare of the TV. The mouse watched as the group laughed and pointed at the screen, perhaps drinking a little too much. One of them wore a black t-shirt with the words 'Big Sucks' stenciled on it. The mouse frowned as he picked up the occasional lewd comment about the singers on the screen. He turned back to the bartender as his ears reddened in a blush. The bartender hmphed and nodded with a chuckle. Ben leaned in. "Let you in on a secret? I know the band. The wolf... Laretta, and I are close friends." The mouse grinned at the bartender's perplexed look. "I'm supposed to meet her at the airport later. She's on her way to meet the rest of Cassie's Band." The mouse took a sip of beer. "Could you tell me how to get to the airport? I arrived by train." The bartender blinked, and then finally laughed. "Sure, guy... you know I've read in the tabloids that Laretta was supposed to be involved with one of us." Ben could see the questions in the bartender's eyes, but was being polite in not asking. A good bartender. Ben listened as the bartender gave him directions. The airport was close. Walking distance. Ben didn't know that the rowdies at the table were listening as well. On the television, Cassie was covering a classic from the late sixties... a social-consciousness song of an era too long gone. The mouse thought about his older brother, of his own idealism and hope for all living sentient creatures. He had to grin and gave Cassie a silent 'right on, girl' in his mind. The bartender dried a mug as he listened. "You need scale to do those songs right, of course. Big vocal chords. Some of the mouse groups I've heard are good, especially with some of the 'New Wave' Songs from the eighties, but you'll seldom find a professional mouse group singing any Janice Joplin songs..." "Aw, that's a load of SHIT!" Ben started, and glared over at the table full of rowdies. They were all looking at him with the kind of aggressive leer which made him uneasy. They were big, perhaps from the university's sport team. The apparent leader of the group, clad in a jersey stained in spots with fresh beer, continued to address him. "We're better than they are! They're just a bunch of overgrown doggies!" Jersey-mouse gesticulated at the screen, the beer in his hand spilling. "Not worth the genetic material they were made from!" Ben winced as the barkeep gave the far table a warning to be civil. He turned away from the rowdies, determined to ignore them. "Oh ho! Do you LIKE doggies, you... macrophile?" The last word was hissed out, spat into the air like so many other evil labels meant to demean were. A roar of laughter from the table. Ben's ears blazed red as anger soured the beer in his stomach. He had witnessed this before. Some of his kind simply couldn't accept the lot that genetics had handed them; were never happy with who and what they were. Worse, some exhibited a hatred of those different from them. It seemed that his kind weren't free of the old scourges of human civilization; bigotry and fear of people and cultures different from them. With a sigh, the mouse paid the tab for his unfinished beer and promised the apologetic bartender that he would get an autograph or two for him. Walking back into the evening's shadows, he was unaware of the rowdies following him out the door a few moments later. Finding the small airport without much trouble, Ben leaned against the wall of a hanger, this portion of the facility in his scale. There were no lounges or waiting areas as such, the airport being primarily a cargo nexus. He tapped his foot as the evening air cooled. Laretta should be here, he thought. The mouse looked up, attempting to judge the time by the moon. Glaring overhead lights made it impossible to see anything above them. Then he heard them, loud and drunk. The rowdies of the bar appeared under a light, staggering and headed in his direction. A cold chill ran along Ben's spine as jersey-mouse pointed and leered. "THERE he is! Macro! We're gonna teach ya a lesson!" Ben was in trouble. There were seven of them, some still carrying bear bottles and all out-massing him. The mouse gritted his teeth. He was in for a beating he knew. He decided that he might as well earn it. "Look," Ben hissed. "We're all in the same boat, them and us! We all have fur, we all have feelings! I bet you don't even KNOW one of..." The rowdies surrounded him, jeering and taunting him. "Yeah... and I'm Santee Claus! Grab him, Fred!" One of the other rowdies grabbed Ben from behind, pinning the mouse's arms as jersey-mouse stepped up. Pulling back a fist, the drunk rodent sneered. "Now you get yours!" "I really wouldn't do that, if I were you." Her voice, heavy and soft and full of power, came down from far above. Ben knew who it was instantly. Looking up, the mouse could see nothing until the beacon from the airport swept over her face. Laretta was snarling, the brief light sparking her amber eyes to flame and gleaming off fangs half as tall as the tallest of the rowdies. Ben had never seen Laretta this way. Feral. However, the mouse thought he recognized the glint of warm humor and concern behind the wolf's wild glare. Jersey-mouse didn't pause. "Crap." The blow, wildly thrown even as the rowdie was turning to run, glanced hard off of Ben's cheek. Hard. Ben went down, briefly blinded by the flash of pain. The mouse didn't need to see. The ground trembled hard under his legs, heaving as Laretta's huge black pump crashed down beside him, sending the drunken assailants sprawling and separating them from him. Ben notices that the wolf's stomp had driven down into the thin concrete, cracks radiating around. "Ben! Are you ok?" Laretta's voice, still powerful, had lost the feral edge. The mouse looked up, now able to see where Laretta's white sock gave way to the warm gray fur of her ankle, the rest of the wolf still invisible above the harsh mercury vapor street light. The mouse stood, leaning against the black wall of shoe and rubbing his cheek and jaw. "I... I'll have a bruise, Laretta, but I'm fine." A low growling noise filled the air, reverberating in the pit of Ben's stomach the way a low note on a large pipe organ would. The mouse imagined that Laretta's muzzle was orienting on the sprawled mice on the other side of her foot. He watched as Laretta's hand appeared, fingers wrapping about the mouse who had hit him, and vanishing up into the dark once more. Ben heard the drunken mouse screaming, and the next cycle of the airport beacon illuminated the scene of Jersey-mouse being held just and inch before Laretta's gaping, tooth-filled muzzle. Ben held his breath as Laretta brought the other rodent close to her open mouth, her fang tips almost touching her victim... Then the light swept away once more. Ben held his breath for an instant... an eternity... and then heard a light, wolfen giggle. "Ah, you'd just give me indigestion anyway." Another brief scream from jersey-mouse, and then the muffled, wet thump as he landed in the nearby dumpster at the back of what appeared to be the airport cafe. The dumpster was apparently filled with refuse, the leader of the mob tumbling from the trash, covered with partially eaten food and worse. He scrambled away into the night, still screaming, followed by the rest of the group, save one. This last mouse had found courage somewhere. Perhaps he had drank it earlier. Too bad he couldn't have had a big mug of wisdom too. He had pulled a knife, and had climbed up onto Laretta's foot. The mouse raised the metal knife over his head, aiming to plunge it down into the she-wolf. Ben took a quick breath to call out and warn Laretta. The wolfette had noticed her assailant though. Her hand appeared once more, fingers swishing through air as she flicked the mouse off, the back of a rounded clawtip catching him in his stomach with a solid thud. The mouse sprawled on the ground. "You'd better get out of here, you..." Laretta took a step forward, her foot levitating over the momentarily prone mouse for a moment before coming down on two empty trash cans close by. Ben had to cover his ears as the metal of the cans grumbled and whined as they were crushed flat into the concrete. The last rowdie somehow got to his feet and ran off, looking very much as if he had soiled himself. Ben felt a wave of relief flood over him. And weakness. The mouse didn't like confrontation. Laretta's tender fingers wrapped around him and brought him up to her face. "Ben... I was so worried... I..." The wolf softly pressed Ben against her soft lips, and then licked him tenderly before she looked at him once more. "Your police had been called by the owner of the bar you were at earlier. He was worried that you were going to be mugged. Look down." The mouse looked over the edge of the wolf's palm. There at Laretta's feet were two mice, dressed in the uniforms of the local constabulary. "They told me as I waited in the airport. I got here first because of my longer stride." The wolf licked him again softly. "Are you sure you're alright?" Ben felt keen embarrassment. Not at having to be rescued by his girlfriend; the mouse understood that. He loved Laretta and would do anything to protect her. That she felt the same about him made the mouse feel wonderful. No, it was the intolerance for others that some members of his society felt towards his beloved which angered and embarrassed him. "They... were saying some very bad things, Laretta...." Laretta looked at him, nodding slowly. "I heard. Wolf-ears, you know." She sighed softly over him. "Every society has that kind. Its simply a matter of not letting them win." With a polite nod to the police below who now waved her on, the she-wolf strode off towards the 'larger' section of the airport, carefully cupping her boyfriend in her hands. "I have to stay the night, to catch my transfer. I've a room in the airport hotel for folks my size." She grinned softly at him as the lights rose to her level. "Stay with me? This will all look better in the morning, and we could both use a snuggle." Laretta shivered a little and winked at Ben with a giggle. "You know, at one point tonight I -was- really curious about what that mouse might taste like. You might get nibbled on tonight..." When Ben woke late the next morning, Laretta was already in the shower. The mouse grinned, watching the silhouette of the water-slick wolfette on the shower curtain. The mouse watched for some time, listening to Laretta sing as the warm water washed over her sleek curves. Laretta had turned the TV on, leaving the sound off. Something caught Ben's eye and he looked at the glowing tube. The mouse was amazed. The cameras were panning across the area he had been last night. An open area between hangers on the 'mouse' sized part of the airport. A throng of mice had gathered around the near-perfect footprint Laretta had left in the concrete, and they all seemed to be waving banners. The mouse feared the worse, and then he read the signs. "Cassie's Band ROCKS!" read one. "GO WOLVES" read a second. Ben grinned more, a tear in his eye as he read the next few. "Our Differences Draw Us Together." "Fur is Fur, Size Doesn't Matter." The mouse flopped back on the pillow where he was sleeping, Laretta's warmth and scent still on it and him. The mouse loved the wolf. Laretta broke into that same old protest song from the sixties that Cassie had done on the concert tape the night before. "... come on people now, smile on your brother, everybody get together, learn to love one another right now..." Music. Music would help overcome bigotry and intolerance. The mouse sang along with the wolf in the shower.