The old man cackled at Karogen.  "You got that right, at least," he said quietly.  "But whatever works."  There was a pause.  "Listen, buddy... I don't know if I'm going to be able to talk for much longer.  Everything hurts and it's getting harder to concentrate..."  he trailed off, then came back with a sudden blurt.  "I'm dead tired.  I need some spaghetti.  Lions!  Big lions!  ...  I'm about due for my little ladle."  He moaned.  "Great, the flowers are back.  Hello, flowers!  Yes, I'm still here."  He paused.  "Yes, I know I'm going to Hell.  What about Mark the Plant here?  Is he going to Hell?"  He paused again.  "Really?  Well, I ain't telling him that.  He might wig out on me."  His chains clanked and his voice drew closer, speaking in a stage whisper.  "They say you're going to take a bunch of furries down there with you for company.  But don't kill the messenger!"  The chains shifted and he moaned loudly.  "Oooohhh... fuck!  My head!"<br/><br/>-----<br/><br/>Stories above them, Lady Alhanda admitted her cougar-servant into her office.  As he bowed to her, she looked up from her desk.  "Well?" she asked.<br/><br/>"The research department has identified the cause of the roar we heard a few moments ago," the servant said.<br/><br/>"What is it?"<br/><br/>"It is the battle-cry of a small dragon, or perhaps a dragon-anthro hybrid, my lady."  The servant's face betrayed his fear.<br/><br/>Alhanda sniffed in derision at him.  "A dragon.  Is that all?"<br/><br/>The servant bristled in surprise.  "My lady?" he asked in puzzlement.<br/><br/>"It sounded much worse than it really is," said Alhanda.  "Leave me."<br/><br/>The servant warily left her.  Alhanda immediately rose from her desk and turned to the nearest wall.  She had known.  Her evening entertainment had met with the human uprising.  That roar was a threat, and a very personal one.  Chiro Day was still alive.  Her scarred arm tingled at the still-fresh memory of its pain.<br/><br/>But he was not a danger to her now.  The serpent's courage would not be lost on the humans, and they would be letting him reap his revenge upon her soldiers.  She had confidence that her troops would destroy him.  Powerful as he was, he was not invincible.  She turned away from the wall and resumed her study of the documents on her desk.<br/><br/>After a moment, with a hint of a dark smile on her lips, she used her telephone to pass an order: should the silver serpent be found, he was to be brought to her alive.  She didn't care what it took, so long as he still was able to feel agony.  Her new weapon was in need of more testing.<br/><br/>-----<br/><br/>In the near-darkness of the garbage truck's back section, Halvorson and the others felt the truck lurch backwards, turn, and start moving again.  Two taps on the divide followed, and an inaubible mutter from the driver's compartment.  Halvorson, O'Toole, and the medic let out their withheld breaths.<br/><br/>The cop watched the truck depart and let out some of his frustration with his breath.  His wife had warned him he would be cranky, since he had not had much sleep, but that rat deserved to be threatened a little.  He just came off as a backwoods jerk.  Giving him no more thought, he saw a pickup truck approach with a full load of furry refugees aboard - and two humans.  He stopped the truck.<br/><br/>"Where are you headed?" he asked the driver, a rotund male anthro-ferret.<br/><br/>"Mill Street Row," the ferret said in reply.<br/><br/>"Whose humans are those?" the cop asked.<br/><br/>"Mine, officer," said an even more rotund female anthro-badger in the passenger seat.  "They're my best cooks."<br/><br/>"Not anymore," said the cop.  "Unload 'em.  No transport of human cargo allowed beyond this point."<br/><br/>"What the hell for?" the ferret asked angrily.<br/><br/>The cop shone his light-stick right into the ferret's face, enjoying the wince he got back.  "Maybe you haven't got the memo.  Humans are our enemies now!  Unload 'em."<br/><br/>The she-badger frowned, but called to the two humans.  "Grace!  Allen!  Get out of the truck!"  In compliance, the blond woman and the red-headed man climbed slowly out of the truck, looking about warily.<br/><br/>The cop pointed his gun at them and fired twice, once at each.  They each fell with wounds in their feet, screaming in agony.  The furs in the truck's bed were covering their ears, and one had to wipe spattered blood off his face.  The cop smirked.  He felt better now.<br/><br/>"What the hell was that for?!" snarled the ferret.<br/><br/>"Your slaves have been impounded by the House.  When the fighting is over, they will be returned to you, unless they've been deemed rogue elements, in which case they will be destroyed and you will receive monetary compensation."<br/><br/>"You didn't have to shoot them!" the she-badger complained.<br/><br/>"Ma'am, they don't need their feet to cook with, do they?" said the cop.  She gaped at him in rage, unable to form a reply.  "If you think you require compensation for their damages, you will need to file a complaint."  The cop turned smugly to the ferret.  "Now get off the road.  The army's setting up a roadblock."<br/><br/>The ferret stifled a complaint, shifted his truck into gear, and turned away onto a side street as the she-badger began to rant.  The cop watched them go, and if he knew anything at that moment, it was that it was great to be a cop sometimes.  He let a pair of his inferiors drag the agonized humans away, giving them orders to tag them and process them as impounded property.<br/><br/>The garbage truck would follow alongside the Desert Vein for a few more minutes before it would get bogged down in stop-and-go traffic, made up of refugees, confused commuters, and military vehicles.  The traffic was nearly universal along these roads until they hit the main commercial district, where it began to thin out as the military vehicles lessened and the commuters found their places of business and parked.  Many refugees were still going on, however, to relatives and friends across the rivers.<br/><br/>-----<br/><br/>Feldana eyed Dreamer curiously, trying to see if she could remember him, but said nothing.<br/><br/>Nearby, Fort Blotar began to shine in the growing daylight.  The cracks in its walls that spidered away from the rent drawbridge became more apparent with the change of contrast.  A few shots and screams could still filter to their ears from inside.<br/><br/>-----<br/><br/>The First Sergeant frowned, knowing Emiko was in the right state of mind.  "I don't," he answered her.  "The colonel probably does for his guys.  But us... we're still supposed to guard the civilians."  He looked around, and saw a building across the southern bordering street from the park - a four-story set of apartments.  They looked to be deserted.  "Let's get everyone in there," he said, pointing.  He gave the order to his sergeants, then caught Jenten.  "Think you could hear all right from the top of that?"<br/><br/>Merelli waited.  The operator still had no answer from Lockbox.  He turned to the Major.  "I assume they are still retreating toward us," he said.<br/><br/>"I'd think so, too."<br/><br/>"Then we must be ready.  They will fill in our frontal positions, guarding the hospital and the nearby buildings.  Our men will act as a local reserve, and fill in any gaps the enemy manages to break.  Pass the order."<br/><br/>Janus fingered the firearm in his hand and looked over the top of the garbage cans down the alley.  He looked at Heretic.  "You thinking what I'm thinking?" he asked the anthro-fox.