PARCE: Patient #307 has resumed his tale. In the interest of obtaining as much information as I can, I shall keep interruptions to a minimum.
307: The pig sitting across from us tried to look confident, but I could tell he was scared. He kept fiddling with the Chugg Bank & Trust pin on his tie. Not that I could blame him. He was the bank manager. If I remember correctly, his name was Slog.
The last time I had seen him, he was getting his face beaten in by an angry sheep on the front steps of this very building. Justice had prevailed, of course, and that sheep had been dragged off to be fed to the pig god. Even so, the day had left a mark on Slog. His snout was still a little crooked. I doubted he had let any sheep be in the same room with him since then. Until now.
In the corner of the room, a security camera swiveled back and forth, watching us all. It was a steel orb with an opening in front for an aperture with a red light inside. The camera reminded me of the head of Durdge. But he was gone, not worth thinking about anymore.
Slog looked at the camera too. Knowing someone was watching from the Megatropolis seemed to put him at ease. He turned back to us and cleared his throat.
“I’m told you gentlemen have an interesting proposal,” he said. He didn’t look at me the whole time he talked. I was thin, probably looked exhausted, not very threatening. He kept his eyes on Swifter, who was even bigger than the sheep who had broken his nose.
Swifter slid a glossy booklet across the table and said, “Here’s what we’ve got so far.” He was proud of that book. He’d had it done right—printed, laminated, stock photos, all collated and stapled.
Slog flipped through it, but he didn’t keep his eyes off Swifter for more than a few seconds at a time. After he skimmed to the end of the booklet, he laughed and tossed it back at us.
“Impossible,” he said. “Even if the bank were willing to give a business loan to sheep, your numbers are wildly off. You can’t do what you are proposing to do on so little expense. You haven’t factored in supply costs. The hospital goes through millions of Chuggbucks per year in bandages and pain medication alone.”
“We’re not going to need any of that,” said Swifter.
Slog laughed even harder.
Swifter glanced at me. “He’s not buying it.”
“That’s OK. We can show him.” I got out of my chair and walked around to Slog’s side of the table.
“Stay away from me!” The pig upended his chair in his scramble into the corner. “I’ll call security!”
“That sheep did a number on your face last year, didn’t he?” I said.
Slog settled down a little. “You know about that?”
“It happened right in front of me.”
“So you know what will happen if you lay a hoof on me. Wait a second, what’s going on with your eyes?”
I ignored him and went to work setting the cartilage in his nose back in its proper place on his skull. He must have felt it. He reached up a shaking trotter and felt his snout.
“I heard the rumors, but I never…” he muttered. “You’re real. The Healer is real.”
“That’s right.” I picked up the booklet and waved it in his face. “Take another look and see if the math adds up for you.”
“S-sure.” He took it out of my hoof. I set his chair upright and gestured for him to sit back down, then I took my seat next to Swifter. We waited for Slog to compose himself and read our proposal more carefully.
“I still don’t see the point,” the pig said after a few minutes. “You know how this works, right? Everything’s under the same banner. It’s all owned by the Chugg Corporation. Even if the insurance company ends up cutting the patient a check, the money gets spent on Chugg products. It all circulates back here. I’m not sure why you think competing with the hospital will benefit Chugg.”
“This part goes over my head,” I said. “My business partner can explain.”
Swifter leaned forward and smiled. “There’s a hidden cost, friend. Productivity. Every day a sheep spends in the hospital is another day they’re not at their desk, or another shift they’re missing at the Quarry. Give the insurance payouts to us—we can even take half of what the hospital charges—and we’ll have those sheep back on the line the next day. Even if they need multiple visits, we’ll run evening hours so they don’t have to miss any work.”
Slog’s eyes flashed. So did the lens of the camera over his shoulder.
“Alright,” he said. “You really think you can have it up and running in a year?”
“Absolutely.”
“I’ll call and let you know whether it’s approved or denied. You should know, however, that there are going to be some conditions because of your history of misbehavior.”
I have to admit I was intrigued. “What kind of conditions?”
Attention all citizens of Uptown Megatropolis. This is a public broadcast from the Chugg Corporation.
We are pleased to announce that renovation of the Chugg Bank & Trust headquarters has officially begun. The newly expanded ground floor is being converted to a reinforced bunker that will house up to two thousand individuals comfortably for an extended period of time.
This facility will be the designated gathering point for any emergency evacuation. It is intended to protect pigs in the event of natural disaster or sheep riot.
All citizens are forbidden from disclosing details about this construction to non-pigs. No mention of this new expansion will be made outside of Megatropolis walls.
Public address system provided and funded by the Chugg Corporation.
Too many questions, Doc. I’m running the show now, in case you forgot. But if you must know, yes, we got the bank loan. That was how things stood for a year. I was building. So were the pigs. But everyone’s lives didn’t stand still for that. My friends had work to do, too.
Dreamer was doing her best. I thought about her a lot, even though I had to keep her at a distance. We’d been through a lot together, she and I, but it was just safer for her to stay away.
But she was living her life. She stuck to her University studies like her father had told her to. On the weekends, she tried to keep herself busy so she wouldn’t think about everything that had happened before. One thing she had gotten into was gardening. It makes sense, really, if you remember the gift her dad gave her at Boxer’s funeral.
There was a little gardening store in Fleece City. She would go there on her days off to get stuff for her flowers. She was there one autumn day a year after Swifter and I had met with Slog at the bank. A perfectly normal day for her. Until a voice from outside caught her attention.
“If you had seen the miracles that we birds have witnessed, sheep, you would not be so indifferent now. While you sit in cubicles and browse in stores, the engine of your freedom languishes in the Megatropolis! Will you not take action?”
Dreamer came out of the store and into the city square. She stuffed her purchases into her school satchel and made her way through the Sunday shopping crowd, trying to see who was talking. She knew that voice from somewhere.
She found the source when she got to the Optera fountain in the center of town. The pedestrians were keeping their distance from it because of the noise. An old egret, the pastor from the church at the Quarry, was standing on the edge of the bronze bowl. She had never known his name. In one foot he held a megaphone. All around him were rough-looking birds. Hawks, magpies, screech owls, grackles, and even a familiar raven formed a perimeter to keep anyone from silencing the egret.
“The Church of the Goddess is dissolved!” the egret crowed. “We spread the word of Optera with the best of intentions, but we were only contributing to the pigs’ system of control over you.”
Dreamer was the only one who stopped to listen. She had heard of these bird rallies, but she had never gotten to see one before. They tended to get chased off by dogs in the Quarry, but here in Fleece City they had a stronger foothold.
“What say you, sheep? Have we not always had your best interests in mind? Yes, we birds have stumbled and fallen along the way, consumed in our own squabbles. We were led astray from you. No longer! We have thrown off the control of pigs and are united in purpose. We want to be your allies against the abuse of pigs and the dogs that serve them. Will you join us and march for freedom together?”
Dreamer could read every emotion around her, even though she tried her hardest to suppress that power these days. In fact, it had been steadily getting stronger ever since she had come face-to-face with Optera on top of the mountain. She felt the old egret’s determination, tainted by a burgeoning discouragement. She felt the annoyed boredom of the guard dogs at the gates. And she felt the willful ignorance of the sheep around her. Just as she tried to push away her power, so they pushed away the questions the egret’s words stirred in their hearts.
And there was something else. A slow-burning, vicious hatred. It was so strong, and so out of place in this bright city, that she turned away from the fountain to find where it was coming from.
Above her and across the town square, she saw it. A figure sitting on top of City Hall. The building was backlit by the morning sun, so she couldn’t see much other than a silhouette.
“Goddess-Eyes!” the egret said. Dreamer spun. The old bird was smiling at her. “Care to say something? I bet these people will listen to you.”
She shook her head. Her cheeks burned. She tried to hide back in the crowd, but now they were looking at her too.
“I understand,” said the egret. “But if—”
Dreamer looked up to see what had cut him off. The figure on the roof spread grey wings and glided down to land on the pavement. It was the old condor himself. And he was blocking Dreamer’s way.
The birds guarding the egret started taunting him.
“Finally decided to show up, Specter?”
“We’ve seen you skulking around. Say something already.”
Dreamer couldn’t believe it. Specter looked even more haggard than when she had last seen him. His eyelids were dark, his face waxy, his body missing patches of feathers.
The egret set his megaphone down. “You have no authority over us any longer, so it is best if you move on.”
A nasty little smile crept up Specter’s face. “You misjudge me, old Iber. I’ve seen the error of my ways, just like you. I want to join your cause.”
“That’s a lie,” Dreamer blurted out. She regretted it instantly. She had sworn to her father that she was done getting involved.
“Even one without the eyes of the Goddess can see through your lies, Specter,” said the egret, Iber. He raised the megaphone again. “Specter was exiled by Optera herself when he tried to separate us from her. The true prophet of the Goddess exposed his lies for all to see! That made him useless to the Chugg Corporation, of course, so he was turned away from them too. For his lack of loyalty to the birds, he has lost everything. His only chance is to get back into the good graces of the pigs by undermining our newfound unity. We won’t let that happen, will we?”
Specter stepped around Dreamer and approached the fountain. Iber’s protectors closed ranks around him. Specter pointed with one claw at the raven in their midst.
“You,” he said. “Let’s go.”
The raven gulped, but didn’t move. Iber put a wing around the raven’s shoulders.
“You will not separate us so easily,” the old pastor said. “Young Osser here believed in the Church and thought the world of you, even at the peak of your corruption. After being chastised by Optera, he came to me with sincerity, looking for absolution. Unlike you, he means to change his ways. Specter, your failure is complete.”
Specter’s talons made white lines in the pavement. “You’re going to regret this. I may not be able to handle you all, but the two of you will stain this fountain red before I go down.” He bent his legs to spring. Dreamer gasped.
“Enough of this,” a deep voice commanded. Specter stopped in mid-jump and so did a few of Iber’s guards. Everyone looked down the path.
Caper had arrived.
The big eagle owl stepped between the condor and Dreamer. Nobody else moved while he looked his old rival over.
“You think you have nothing left to lose, Specter, but you’d be wrong.” Caper made a dismissive gesture at Iber and the others with his foot. “What good would it do to throw your life away in a bloodbath in the middle of a public square over a few insults? They cannot hurt you anymore. Let go of this feud and leave the pigs behind.”
Specter hissed. “Your time will come, Caper. This isn’t over.”
“I wish you saw it differently. You are the most gifted speaker of us all. If you truly changed your ways, you could be a powerful force on the side of freedom.” Caper sighed. “Where have you been living? You look miserable.”
“None of your business.”
“The pigs left you homeless, didn’t they? Why don’t you use my hut in the forest while you find your new path? I stay in my quarters at University most of the time anyway.”
The condor made a rattle in his throat and then spit on the sidewalk at Caper’s feet. Dreamer stepped back, but Caper didn’t.
“You think you can keep humiliating me and getting away with it,” Specter said.
“Not at all. It was a sincere offer. Just think about it.”
Specter turned away and spread his tattered wings. With a last glare at Dreamer, he took off into the sky.
Caper turned to Iber. “You mean well, but this isn’t helpful.”
The egret’s jaw dropped open. “Sorry?”
“Look, there’s more going on right now than I can explain, but agitating for Ponder and Mauler’s freedom will do no good. Neither will drawing attention to Dreamer. These sheep won’t listen to you while their lives here are still comfortable. Trust me on this.”
Iber sighed. “Alright. We’ve had enough for one day anyway.” He flew off. His bodyguards followed him. The raven, Osser, hung back for a few seconds and stared at Dreamer.
“L-look,” he stammered. “I’m sorry.”
She blinked. “It’s… fine. You don’t have to apologize to me.”
He looked like he wanted to say something else, but he just mumbled a thanks and took off after the others, leaving Dreamer confused.
“These birds hang on your every word,” Caper said. “Their Goddess spoke to you. That puts you at the center of their new understanding of the world.”
“I don’t want that,” Dreamer answered. “I never asked for it.”
“That is why Optera is able to trust you with such responsibility. She knows you won’t misuse it.”
“Yeah. She said the same thing when…” Dreamer trailed off.
“When what?”
Dreamer frowned. “She said… I could strike something with lightning. Just once. I’m hoping that it was some kind of a metaphor. It bothers me that she would hand me that kind of power like it was nothing.”
“To Optera, it is nothing compared to her might.”
“You know what I mean.” Dreamer flinched. “Sorry, Professor. That was out of line.”
“No apology necessary.”
Dreamer remembered her bag full of supplies that she needed to get back to her dorm. “What brings you out here, Professor? I’ve never seen you in town before.”
Caper smiled. “I came looking for you. Your friends said you would be here. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all. What can I do for you?”
“I was hoping I could convince you to take a walk with me.” He pointed past the fountain. “That way.”
She looked. “Out the western gate? We’ll be a long way from school.”
“I know. There is something out there I think you should see. May I carry your bag for you?”