Disclaimer: Zootopia stories, characters, settings, and properties belong to the Walt Disney Co. This story is written under Fair Use Copyright laws.
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The Fire Triangle
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Part Two:
Oxidizer
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Hey you, standing in the aisles
With itchy feet and fading smiles
Can you feel me?
Hey you, don't help them to bury the light
Don't give in without a fight
Pink Floyd
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Chapter 5—Meet on the Ledge
(Cont'd...Part 4)
"Erin...are you okay?"
No, not entirely...but she was getting there.
She'd made it most of the way back to her group when Cara, Jill, and Tawny caught up with her. Wondering where their friend had gotten to, they had left their seats to go look for her—and the minute they'd found her they'd known something was out of what. But that was okay; Erin she knew she could tell her girlZ anything.
"Yeah, I'm cool...except..." She glanced back over her shoulder for a second and then hunkered in close, lowering her voice to a near-whisper. "I just ran into Maximus Snobbius, down there by the stage front."
The reaction from her girlfriends was predictable.
"Baaaa-ewwwww!"
"Seriously?"
"No! WAY!"
"Yes...way." The young white-furred bunny sighed and pointed behind her. "He's got Remo with him too."
THAT came as no surprise. Out of earshot, Zack March was known by the nickname, 'Remo,' a tribute to his habit of playing Remora to his cousin's shark.
"What the heck?" Tawny's nose was twitching and her foot was thumping, "I thought he was supposed to be at soccer camp."
"He is," Cara Combs explained, "or he's close anyway. They're holding it over at Zootopia State University. Johnny told me." Johnny was her older brother—and a charter member of the Max March Detractors Club.
"Well yeah, but what heck's he doing HERE?" Jill Pepper was throwing her paws and ears in the air, "You can't just, like...take a day off from soccer camp!"
"Yeah, really," Tawny Lloyd agreed. "I'm betting he prolly snuck away. You know," she folded her arms and lifted her chin, allowing her voice to deepen. "'They won't kick ME out of soccer camp; I'm too goooood.'"
That was good for a laugh from all four girls....but only a very short one.
"'Kay, I get that, but why?" Jill demanded, still thoroughly confused. "I mean, like...why'd he come HERE, of all places?"
Erin knew why of course, but she was loath to repeat it. Her GFs might be wholly supportive—or else they might needle her for the rest of the weekend.
She decided to trust their sympathies.
"Well according to him, it's coz, "Hey, I'd never miss MY girl's audition."
That was good for a fresh chorus of 'Ewwwws'–but also a healthy dose of skepticism.
"Sweet cheez n' crackers girlfriend," it was Cara, "I mean...I knew he had KIND of a crush on you...but that serious? No. Shearing. Way!"
Erin jammed her foot down to keep it from thumping. Their conversation had just set course for a place where she absolutely did not want to go.
"Guys, can we just bag on talking about Max...please? If there's one day when having that stuck-up jerk in my head is the something I don't need..."
"No problem, Erin," Tawny was waving a paw as if polishing an invisible window, and the others quickly followed in similar fashion.
"C'mon, let's get to our seats," Cara suggested, and the agreement that followed was entirely unanimous.
Erin's mammals turned out to be sitting in row twelve, just left of the center aisle. She hadn't caught sight of them earlier because the next row back was occupied by a motley collection of larger species.
"Well, THERE she is!" Her mother had just spotted her and was standing with her paws on her hips. "Where'd you go, Erin?"
"Sorry Mom," the young doe-bunny replied, looking properly abashed, "I should have found out where you guys were planning to sit before I went to get signed up."
To her immense relief, her mother simply nodded and waved it off. Oh, good; no need now to tell her about Max—and no need to tell anybody about the hole he and his cousin had been digging. Erin Janelle Hopps was nobody's snitch.
Settling down in the midst of her family and friends, she quickly forgot all about him. He wouldn't dare bother her here, not while she was hanging with her folks and her posse.
So instead she talked about what she'd seen while waiting in the sign-up line. Everyone had a good chuckle over the head-banger feline who'd thought the auditions were open to all comers. The rest of what Erin had to say, however, was considerably more sobering. Nobody remarked on it, but everyone knew. That many kids trying out for admission to The Academy made HER chances of being accepted all the more slim. The only compensation was that every young hopeful here was in the same boat.
"How do they decide what order you go on?" her sister Judy asked, trying to break the mood, "Alphabetically...or what?"
"Not first come, first served, I hope." Sue Cannon cut in, a thread of steel running through her voice—and rightly so; picking the order that way would give an unfair advantage to the local kids, especially the ones who lived in Savanna Central.
Erin smiled and waved a paw.
"Nope, they draw names at random to see when everyone goes onstage." She explained. "It said so in the letter I got."
"Oh?' Judy's ears went up, but then she nodded approvingly. "Ah, I guess that's the only fair way to do it, sis."
"Except now you might have to go FIRST," Sue Cannon sniggered, eyes narrowed and stubby tail twitching. Like all felines, she could never resist a good tease. In this case, however, her seeds fell on barren soil. Erin only shrugged and raised a paw.
"Hey, at least that way, I won't have to worry about following a better act."
More laughter from the other girls, and Sue slumped in her seat with folded arms, and a grumpy expression; 'Feh, you're NO fun, bunny!' she seemed to be saying.
But then her sister Violet stood up and pointed. "Hey look."
Erin turned and saw that the center of the Amphitheater stage was now occupied by a microphone stand. That wasn't what had caught Vi's attention however; someone had just exited the stage wings and was walking towards it. He was an older mammal—either a sheep or a goat of some kind—and for an animal his age, he moved with a surprisingly jaunty step. As he came closer to the stage-front, he was greeted by a smattering of applause; at least a few of the animals in the audience had recognized him.
Their number did not include Stu Hopps; "Who's that?" he asked, speaking to no one in particular.
It was Erin who answered him, "I-I-I think that's Dr. Vignius, Dad," she said, reasonably, if not entirely certain of her conjecture, "He's the school president."
"Oh."
Her supposition was quickly confirmed as the arkar sheep stepped up to the microphone and introduced himself to the crowd. He followed up with an address that, while it could hardly be termed short and sweet, was by no means of the long-winded variety. And neither would anyone have called it tedious; Dr. Carl Vignius hadn't become a top theatrical producer by boring his audience to death.
"Looking out over this gathering I must admit to something; never have I seen so many anxious faces, so many wringing paws and hooves, so many trembling tails. Everywhere I look, I find lumps in throats, rapid breathing, and animals offering up desperate prayers for success."
Pausing in peroration, he gazed with a stern expression, sweeping his eyes over the crowd from one end of the amphitheater to the other.
And then he shrugged.
"But enough about your parents, kids; you're the ones I came here to talk to."
The crowd exploded into laughter, with the younger audience members leading the charge. Erin Hopps was laughing so hard she had to hold on to Sue Cannon to keep from falling over. In his space beneath the stage, Conor Lewis had to use both paws to keep his muzzle clamped shut. Mike Daehan's laughter was more of the uneasy variety; Dr. Vignius had just delivered an almost picture-perfect description of HIS folks' behavior at last year's tryouts.
"As I'm sure you're all aware." The arkar sheep went on, "the motto of this school is—Ah, I won't bore you with the Latin version—it's 'Many Are Called, Few Are Chosen.'"
He paused here, heaving a sigh and regarding the stage floor for a moment—and it was a good thing he couldn't see through to what was hiding beneath it.
"And that is what brings me to the one thing that I hate about this job." He lifted his eyes, taking in the audience once more. "There isn't a single one of our applicants that didn't work his or her heart out to be ready for today; I know that. You made the grade, you passed the entrance exam; you sent in the videos, you secured the endorsements. More than anything else, I wish that you could all be admitted to the Academy—but that simply isn't possible. There are only so many slots available." He paused for a moment, as if to allow his audience time to digest the news, and then went on. "And with that in mind, due to the very large number of animals competing for admission today, we will not—as we did last year—be announcing the names of those accepted at the end of the day's proceedings." A hubbub rumbled through the crowd and Dr. Vignius raised his hooves. "Yes, I know, and I'm sorry, but all things considered, it simply wouldn't be fair to everyone participating here today. We want to give each performance a reasonable and thorough assessment before we deliver our verdict...and that's going to take a little bit longer than just the shank of an afternoon. We'll be notifying you of our decision via e-mail and/or regular mail, sometime in the next two weeks."
Another murmur of displeasure rumbled through the crowd. In his cubbyhole beneath the stage, Conor Lewis could sympathize with their feelings; as if the tension of anticipation wasn't bad enough. Still...there were that many kids trying out today? Whoa, ZAPA must have built up some kind of formidable rep in the first year it had been open.
On the stage up above him, Dr. Vignius was preparing to wrap things up.
It was pretty much the same pitch the young silver fox had heard the previous year; wishes for good luck to all the applicants and high hopes for a great school year to those that made the cut.
Conor barely paid attention...until he heard, "And now, without further ado, I will turn over the microphone to one of The Academy's most important patrons, the lady responsible for having this facility renovated and for whom it has been renamed. Please welcome to the stage, ladies and gentlemammals...the one and only Gazelle."
A roar erupted from the seats as the popstar came out of the wings, none louder than from the section where the Hopps family was sitting. All over the theater animals were on their feet, cheering and clapping with raised paws and hooves. There was even some stamping of feet.
Gazelle was dressed in her usual two-piece ensemble, but in midnight blue rather than red, and with a few added accessories, elbow length gloves and stockings that came up to her hips instead of her knees. On her head she wore a gaucho hat, pierced by her horns. Everything was decorated in glittering silver sequins.
Inevitably, the audience members began calling out the names of tunes they wanted to hear.
"She-Wolf!"
"Try Everything!"
"Hips Don't Lie!"
"Try Everything!"
"Addicted to You!"
"TRY EVERYTHING!"
Strutting her way to the microphone, Gazelle stood for a second with a hoof on her hip, striking a sultry pose. One thing you had to give this lady, she knew how to make an entrance. Waiting until just as the acclaim had begun to die down; she reached up for the microphone stand and in a single, fluid motion, adjusted it to her height.
Watching from the wings, Dana Alchesay shook her head. That should have been handled by one of the volunteer stage-hands; somebody had missed a cue.
Thirty feet away from her, Gazelle was raising a hoof, as if holding a torch aloft.
"¡Hola L'Academia de las Artes Escénicas!"
She was greeted with another roar of approval and immediately switched dialects.
"Hello everyone...and welcome to this year's musical auditions for The Zootopia Academy of the Performing Arts," She allowed herself a smile and a wink, "Or...ZAPA as we call it. How many of you are here to try out today?"
All over the theater paws and hooves went up, accompanied by howls, trills, mewls, and roars...and from a young, white furred bunny, 12th row, left of center, a whoop and a binky; a leap, followed by a pivot in the air.
On the stage below her, Gazelle was nodding with an air of quiet satisfaction. Taking the mike from its stand, she intoned softly, and almost reverently, "This is for you."
That was Mike Daehan's cue, and he reached to punch a button on his console.
A few seconds of scratchy silence followed and then music began to play.
The tune opened on an acoustic Flamenco chord and scat vocal; from there it moved quickly to a thumping synth n' drumbeat, accompanied by a Spaghetti Western guitar. Gazelle's voice was soft and smoky as she picked up the vocals
"♪Why do all my friends now want to be your lovers?
Your family got bigger when they thought you were rich... ♫"
Out beyond the stage, young animals of every shape and species were regarding each other with curious expressions. In the section where the Hopps bunnies were sitting, every nose was a-twitch. What the heck, now? This wasn't one of Gazelle's more popular numbers; it was a nearly obscure tune, conspicuously absent from her Greatest Hits CD.
And the lyrics only became progressively more bewildering as the song progressed.
" ♪I want to save you from...
...Save you from all that's vain
...Save you from the things that cause us pain. ♫"
"From WHAT things that cause us pain?" Erin Hopps couldn't keep it to herself any longer, "What the heck is she talking about, sis?" She was speaking to Judy, the bunny who just happened to be sitting next to her.
Her elder sister had no idea...but Conor Lewis could have explained it; so could all his friends, so could every student at The Academy for that matter. At the previous year's auditions they too had found the tune to be bewildering and not a little frustrating.
But then two months into the fall semester, the song's meaning had slowly begun to reveal itself...until now, finally, they understood its purpose—and why Gazelle had chosen to perform a practically unknown tune for them, rather than one of her hits.
It was a cautionary tale, a warning about the pitfalls of becoming a successful entertainer...
In crafting the song, Gazelle had missed none of the essentials; they were all here...the hangers on, the grifters—the handlers who stick with you only for as long as you're useful to them.
" ♪But someday when you fail
They put you on sale
And buy you by the inch. ♫"
It was not a message for the faint of heart...because as far as this animal was concerned, neither was the entertainment business.
" ♪With you I feel safe
There's nothing to fear from us
Away from the fangs...the fangs of the world
I may be a coward, but you are brave... ♫"
It was a lesson she did NOT want the prospective ZAPA students to learn the hard way.
" ♪Coz it's an animal city
It's a cannibal world
So be obedient, don't argue,
Some are ready to bite you, my love! ♫"
That was where she ended it, so abruptly that a moment of silence followed.
When the applause finally came, at first it was tentative and polite—but then it rapidly swelled to a torrent. Little-known track or not, there could be no denying the passion with which Gazelle had performed it.
And confusing lyrics or not, the kids in the audience had somehow sensed that something important was nestled within those words, a message they'd caught but could not yet decode. Erin Hopps was no exception and for the moment, she was applauding and cheering with the others. By the look on her face, she might almost have been mesmerized.
But then she took in a hiss of air, seeming to snap out of it; or perhaps she simply remembered something.
"Hey guys," she said, speaking to her posse. "Can someone snag my duffle and pedalboard? They're prolly gonna call us backstage now."
"Ahhh, I don't think that's going to happen just yet, sis."
It was Judy and she was pointing towards the stage. When Erin looked, she saw that a brightly bedecked—what was she, an opossum?—that somebody had just emerged from the stage wings with a guitar in her paws, an acoustic six-string. It was a bit large for her species and someone very quickly came out to help her, the coyote girl from the sign-up table.
"Hmmm, looks like Gazelle's going to do another song," Stu Hopps noted, an observation that would have earned anyone else a hearty, 'Well, DUH!'
Yes, but not right away; a few minutes of crowd-murmur followed while the popstar put her instrument in tune.
At last satisfied, she strummed a rolling riff, at the same time speaking to the audience.
"Not long ago, something happened in Zootopia." She paused here, angling her muzzle upwards just ever so slightly, "I will not bore you with the details—but I will say this. Whatever your species, that is not important. Whether you are predator or prey is also not important. And what anyone else may have to say about it is not important either. How you feel about each other—what you think—this is the only thing that is important. Nothing else matters."
She was greeted by sprinkling of applause...and a sea of bewildered faces, many turning to regard each other with wide eyes and raised brows. Just when it seemed that Gazelle had run out of surprises; was she really going to...?
She was...
" ♪So close, no matter how far
Couldn't be much more from the heart
Forever trusting who we are
And nothing else matters. ♫"
If the crowd had been bewildered a moment ago now, they were practically bowled over. In the space beneath the stage, Conor Lewis's jaw was nearly dragging on the floor. "Holy foxtrot, that's a METALLICAT tune!" Even unplugged, it was like Ozzy Osbear covering Destiny's Cub. And all over the theater, dozens of other animals were similarly blown away.
But none more than Judy Hopps; sweet cheese n' crackers, was Gazelle singing about—what it sounded like she was singing about?
" ♪Trust I seek and I find in you
Every day for us something new
Open mind for a different view
And nothing else matterrrrrs...♫"
It was as if Gazelle was singing the song to her...and one other animal...
" ♪Never cared for what they do
Never cared for what they know
But I know... ♫"
But then, something began to happen; as Gazelle got further and further into the song, so did the kids in the audience, singing along with the last line of each stanza.
On the final verse, they were shouting it out with raised fists
" ♪AND NOTHING ELSE MATTERRRRRRRRRSSSS! ♫"
Their number very much included a young, white-furred bunny that played bass guitar. When the tune ended, she and her posse were standing on their seats, and cheering their lungs out.
...Until Erin happened to glance down and to her left; uh-ohhhh.
Hopping down from her seat she rummaged feverishly in her pocket. Dangit, she could have sworn she had some...okay, there they were.
Sidling up to Judy, she nudged the older bunny in the ribs, "Sssst, sis...here!"
Judy turned with her nose twitching. Wha...? What the heck? What was Erin offering her a wad of tissues for?
In response the younger bunny pantomimed brushing her cheek with a finger, "Hurry up Jude...before Mom n' Dad see you." Her voice was an insistent whisper.
Judy didn't accept the offer right away, but instead dabbed at her face—and was surprised when her fingers came away wet. Now she took some tissues, grabbing for them frantically and wondering how she could have had tears in her eyes without even noticing.
Pivoting away so that no one could see, she hurriedly blotted the wetness from her cheeks.
Meanwhile, down on the stage, the 'opossum' had once more emerged from the wings. This time Gazelle took a knee at her approach and Erin saw the assistant whispering something in her ear. Even for a bunny, it was inaudible at this distance, but whatever it was that she'd said, it brought an immediate smile to the pop-star's face.
Standing up again, she took hold of the microphone.
"All right, I am pleased to report that the problem backstage has been taken care of. So...would everyone that's signed up to audition today please report to the right side backstage-access door. That's the door on your right," she added with a smile.
Needless to say, it didn't happen all at once; the news needed to sink in first. When it did, the reactions ranged from high fives and fist bumps to tearful hugs and expressions of parental pride...and, of course, the odd muttering of "about time!" In every corner of the amphitheater, mammals were offering wishes for broken legs to their friends, siblings, and children.
Among the Hopps clan, Stu, as always, was unable to stem the waterworks, while Little Cotton had to be literally peeled away from Erin's right leg. This was it, the moment she'd been working towards all summer.
And so, off she went, into the arms of fate–or whatever.
If nothing else, you had to admit one thing; the Zootopia Academy for the Performing Arts knew how to run a tight ship. They kept the line-up at the stage door moving at a steady pace, with nary a hold-up. As before, Erin allowed her girlZ to help with the rest of her gear, but insisted on toting her bass-axe herself.
When she got to the door, a young cow moose asked her to please show her badge. After only a quick inspection, she nodded, and asked if the young doe-bunny needed any assistance with her things, this being as far as her GFs could accompany her.
"Ahhh, I could use some help with these," she said, indicating the case containing her pedal-board and the bag with her stage outfit. At once, a bright-eyed desert cat darted forward.
"Have you got a back-up recording with you?" he asked, offering a slight bow. From any other animal the gesture would have been slightly ludicrous; from him it seemed just right.
Erin patted a pocket. "Got it right here on my iPaw; do you need...?
"No," the feline replied, "keep it with you until your name is called." and then turning on his heel, he beckoned with a pair of fingers, "Now follow me, please."
He led her down a hallway and into a big enclosure with a mirror lining one wall. This, Erin guessed, must be the rehearsal area. There were rows of folding chairs in the center of the room and tables of varying sizes occupying the rear, all of them stacked with cups and drink coolers. Piled against the wall opposite the mirror, she saw an accumulation of gear bags and cases...all of it under the watchful eye of several medium to large predators, including the wild dog she'd met at the sign-up table earlier. Seeing him there gave the young white-furred bunny a measure of reassurance, although she could hardly say why.
That, in fact, turned out to be her next stop. As with the sign up desks, the stacks of gear were sorted by species size, something that made perfect sense to the young doe-bunny. And who should turn out to be minding the small-mammal section but that wild dog again? When he saw her coming his tail instantly became a windshield wiper on overdrive.
"'Ehh, what you know, Saad?" he said, speaking to the sand cat accompanying her, "Dis here's de bunny I was telling you about."
He did not elaborate, and Erin had to suppress a snigger. She knew why he wasn't going into detail; his girlfriend would likely kill him.
Saad appeared to be none too thrilled about it either, offering the canine a reproachful eye for his troubles.
What came next was a seriously awkward moment. As much as Erin liked, errr...Jason, that was his name; as much as she liked this dog, she was still as reluctant as ever to commit her bass to another animal's care, even his. And so, when she handed it over, she almost had to struggle to make her paws let go of it. Another item, however, she did hold back—but for an entirely practical reason, "Ahhh, I'll keep that, it's my stage outfit."
And that brought up another question for the young, white-furred bunny; should she change now or wait a while? The longer she had her stage clothes on, the less fresh they'd be when she went out to perform her song. On the other paw, she positively did NOT want to have to throw everything on at the last second. Thinking it over for a minute, she decided to hold off for just a bit...at least until she found out if the dressing rooms were busy.
Finding a seat in one of the small-mammal rows, Erin immediately discovered that the one beside her was occupied by the biggest squirrel she'd ever seen, black on yellow fur and even larger than her sister Judy. At the moment, she was proceeding to ignore the rabbit sitting next to her, concentrating instead on a tablet clutched tightly in her paws.
It was not a snub however, as the young doe-bunny quickly discovered. Looking more closely, she saw that the squirrel-girl's lips were moving while her thumbs were staying put. Ohhh-kay, that wasn't a game-console, just your standard garden-variety tablet—and she was reviewing the lyrics of the song she intended to perform.
While Erin didn't necessarily agree with the idea—there's such a thing as over-memorizing your tune—she was anything but surprised. Her BFF Lisa would have done the same thing. Hrm, were all squirrels so obsessive?
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Maybe not all squirrels, but there was at least one other member of that species for whom the word fit like a favorite pair of PJs. And he was less than a block-and-a-half-away from where Erin was sitting right now.
Considering that his efforts to nab a certain suspect had so far come to naught, Lieutenant Albert Tufts, ZPD, was in a remarkably placid mood at the moment.
"I don't think so either, Foley," he said, pressing a pair of fingers into his headset, "but keep your eyes peeled just the same. Command out."
He had just received a check-in from the ram watching the stage entrance. It was highly unlikely that no-good, little, blankety-blank young silver fox would try to sneak in with the kids arriving to audition today...but this was exactly why they couldn't afford to ignore the possibility. It wouldn't be the first time someone had attempted to outwit ZPD Cybercrimes by way of the old hide-in-plain-sight trick. And not only that; the Lewis kid had been through the ZAPA audition process himself the previous year. He was entirely familiar with how it worked and he possessed more than enough forgery skills to gin up a fake participants' badge. He probably hadn't; almost certainly, he wouldn't—but assuming that he wouldn't was a chance the Kaibab squirrel wasn't about to take. In the ZPD's earlier dealings with Conor Lewis, too many exits had been left unguarded; the Department was not going to make that mistake again today, not on his watch.
Tufts was perched on a tabletop inside the ZPD command vehicle, the same 'produce truck' the department had used for the Rafaj Brothers sting. At the moment, it was occupying a loading zone, directly across the street from the Amphitheater.
It was actually the perfect cover for today's op; there was no shortage of cafes and small restaurants in the area, to say nothing of the food carts lining one side of the street. No one would think twice if they saw a vegetable truck parked here.
Something crackled in the Kaibab squirrel's headset and he pressed more fingers to the side of his head.
"Command, go."
"Command this is Laykin," a fuzzy voice replied. "I have a visual on Detective Hopps, over."
"Very good, over," the Lieutenant replied, and to the rest of the command he said, "Incoming feed from Overhead 3. Put it on ....mmm, put it on screen 4." At once an aerial view appeared on the panel display above and to the right of the squirrel. It showed a row of seats occupied almost entirely by bunnies. "Okay, zoom in by 25...ah, make it 40 percent." Instantly the view expanded and then swayed slightly, indicating that the screen was displaying the POV of a police drone. "Okay there you are, Hopps," Tufts muttered, well aware that Judy couldn't hear him. She was sitting next to...a bunny he didn't recognize, but the seat on her left was empty. Hmmmm...that spot must be where her sister Erin had been sitting.
"Command, this is Laykin, do you want me to keep on her?" the voice sounded in his headset again, "Over."
"Ahhh that's a negative, Laykin," The Kaibab squirrel replied, "But somebody, make a note of Detective Hopps's 20." He was addressing the full command crew again. With a little luck, her assistance would not be needed, but again, jusssst in case...
He wasn't taking any chances today.
"Got it logged," a nutria answered, nodding tartly in the Lieutenant's direction. Tufts returned the gesture and then spoke once more to the drone jockey.
"Good work. Laykin...go ahead and move on, Command out."
The view on the screen panned right and pulled back, and Tufts almost shifted his gaze elsewhere. But then he stopped with his tail flipping; there was something about that crowd, down below the police drone. It wasn't anything he saw, so much as felt. But it felt wrong...very wrong. Something was amiss down there and he couldn't put his finger-claw on it.
He shook it off and changed frequencies on his headset. Judy Hopps might have held only a passing interest for him ...but there was another member of her family here today, a bunny whose location was far more relevant to the op than that of her older sister.
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Erin spotted the grey wolf almost as soon as she emerged from the dressing room.
There was nothing odd about him, nothing out of place, or that was the impression he gave at first glance. He was dressed in the well-rumpled uniform of a private security firm. Which firm, the young doe bunny was unable to tell, but it wasn't anything she hadn't seen a thousand times already—at the Clover Mall, back in Bunnyburrow and elsewhere. At the moment, he was standing in front of a support column with his paws behind his back—surveying the scene before him with about as much interest as a gamer-head attending a sewing circle Again, no big deal; it went without saying that the school would have a security officer on duty back here. Lookit all that nice, juicy gear, stacked against the left-side wall.
And yet...and yet...
There was something disturbingly familiar about that wolf. Erin could swear she'd encountered him once before, however briefly. And why did he keep pressing his ear shut? That was something she did when she was trying to talk on the phone and there was a whole bunch of noise in the background. Fine, except there wasn't any noise in here and this animal didn't seem to have a phone. Even more troubling was the way he turned his eyes away when he saw her—but not his muzzle. And as he angled it just ever so slightly in the young doe bunny's direction ...had she just seen his nostrils flare; what was that for? Had he been ...imprinting on her scent? Foxes could do that; she knew that from Con...from Ni...from Gideon Grey. And a wolf's sense of smell was even sharper, so it stood to reason that...
"Well, what are you going to do," her inner voice chided, "walk over there and ASK him about it?"
No, she was going to get back to her seat; that was what she was going to do. Whatever else might be going on, she needed to stay focused on the reason she had come here today.
In choosing her stage outfit, Erin had decided to make KISS the rule of the day, Keep It Simple Stupid.
And so she was wearing a pair of 'strategically ripped' black-denim jeans, and a belt studded in faux gold and fitted with a buckle to match. Running from one of the loops on the left to another was a simple, single chain also in ersatz gold. Above the waist, she wore an electric blue crop-top, and over that, a vest in the same black denim as her pants. On the back it bore the gold-embroidered image of a bass guitar, together with the words, "When U Go High, I Go LOW!"
There'd been no question of wearing this item of clothing today; it was a good luck present from her family—and besides that, she loved it.
Another piece, however, had not quite made the cut. Erin had also brought her favorite black-lace choker-collar, but at the last minute, she had elected to leave it in her duffel bag. It might look great on her, but for sure today was not a good day to constrict her throat. Instead, she wore a single chain tagged with an enamel-and-gold representation of the Rickenbarker logo, her only item of real gold.
Up above these was a nod to the avant-garde, a vintage trolley conductor's cap with a few modifications. Erin had dug up it at the Bunnyburrow flea market, and promptly made it her own, adding a festoon of buttons and a peacock feather. The girls in her posse thought it gave her a steampunk vibe—and that suited the young, white-furred bunny right down to the ground. To top off her ensemble, she had tinted the tips of her ears a deep, Prussian blue and wore finger-claw polish to match. Her eyes were once again encircled in black, as they'd been on Day 1 of the Carrot Days Festival—but this time she'd applied the coloring with a much lighter touch than before. As a result, whereas the effect back then had been clownish, today it gave the young doe-bunny a slight air of mystery. This too was something that became her.
Settling down in her seat again, Erin half hoped that someone would notice the 'new' her. No such luck; nobody paid her the slightest never-mind. But then, that could hardly have come as a shock; she was far from the only kid in here who had changed into their stage clothes. Everywhere around her, she saw outfits ranging from the sublime—an elegant, floor-length, sequined gown—to the ridiculous, the impala-kid in a jumpsuit that appeared to have been fashioned from pineapple skins, and then spray-painted in bright, shocking pink. There was even a girl, another rabbit no less, with a ventriloquist's dummy on her lap, a talking iguana-lizard. Wha...? What the heck was she doing here? Shouldn't she have been at the acting tryouts?
Hrm...the room was getting quiet for some reason. And now the young doe-bunny heard a sprinkling of applause up towards the front; what the heck was going on here?
Unable to see, thanks to a bevy of larger animals seated in front of her, she hopped up on her chair, and immediately caught sight of Dr. Vignius, this time with a mike in his hoof. Approximately five feet away from him was the wolf she'd spotted leaning against the support pillar, and parked between them was a wire-mesh ball, mounted on a spindle, with a crank on one end. It was filled with small white capsules about the size of unshelled pecans.
Erin didn't have to guess what that contraption was for; she'd seen something like it many times, at the Burrow County Grange's Bingo games.
A sound not unlike a bunny thumping his foot echoed through the rehearsal room as Dr. Vignius patted his hoof against the mike, checking to make certain it was working.
And then he began to speak. "Attention...attention please; will everyone please take their seats. Everyone, please take your seats...err, can somebody go check the dressing rooms and the restrooms?"
The chairs were filled in short order, and the arkar went on with his address.
"Hello everyone, I'm Dr. Carl Vignius, President of The Zootopia Academy of the Performing Arts. Let me first begin by welcoming you to this year's musical audition. Thanks to all of you for being here today; we're glad you came."
Another smattering of applause followed, and then the arkar sheep got down to business.
""Now, before we get started, I want to go over our procedure for today." He walked over and laid a hoof on the 'Bingo Cage'. "As you know from your letters of invitation, we decide the order in which you'll perform by random drawing. Now, the way that will work is, we'll be drawing your names in sets of ten at a time. After we draw the first ten names, they'll report to the left-side stage wings, after which we'll draw ten more. When the first group is finished with their performances the second group will report to the stage, and we'll draw another ten names. And so on and so forth," he twirled a hoof in the air, "until every one of our applicants has had his or her turn to perform. NOW...!" He spoke the word as if driving a nail into plywood. "When you're called to begin your audition performance, you'll have two minutes to get started. If you're not able to do that within the allotted time frame, we're sorry, but you'll have to forfeit your chance to audition this year and step aside for the next animal in line." He paused to clear his throat. "And now, please pay close attention, because this next part is very important. As we mentioned in your letters of invitation, you'll each have five minutes exactly to complete your performance. But what you haven't yet been told is the way that will work. When you get to the five minute mark, you'll hear the sound of a bell...like this." He turned, nodded, and a big, brassy noise filled the reheasal room–so loud that Erin almost had to put her paws over her ears. Whoa, no way could anyone miss hearing that —and bell, shmell; she knew a GONG when she heard one. "And that will be your signal to stop," Dr. Vignius concluded, and then offered a hoof to the assembled applicants. "Okayyyy, does anyone have any questions?"
As a matter of fact, a lot of kids had questions; the room instantly became a thicket of waving arms.
The first to be called on was a crested porcupine girl.
"Does the time we need to get our gear plugged in count as part of those five minutes?" she asked, and Erin felt her ears rise up; good question there, sister.
"No," Dr. Vignius' head-shake was both immediate and firm, "The five minutes begins from the moment your music begins to play, either you or your back-up recording. Oh, and your prep time doesn't count against the two minutes you'll have to begin your performance either. We understand that some set-ups take longer than others...keyboards and drum-kits for example."
Several kids sighed with relief at this news, and then the arkar pointed to an alpaca-boy. "Yes?"
For a hint of a second, the young mammal was too startled to speak. With so many other paws in the air, he probably hadn't expected to be called on; that was what Erin thought, anyway. "Ah, si...about our back-up recordings, when do we...ah. give them over?"
"We'll collect them from you when your names are called," Dr. Vignius replied with another nod.
The next question came from the Squirrel-girl seated beside Erin.
"How many judges are there going to be...and who are they, and where will they be sitting, and...?"
"Uh, sorry, only three questions to a customer, please." the arkar interrupted holding his hooves up with a wry expression—while Erin struggled to keep from giggling. Lucky for him that wasn't a Douglas squirrel; she'd STILL be asking questions.
"There'll be a total of five judges," he said, "Myself, City Councilmember Nizhang, Jules Perrault, the Academy's music director, Mr. Miles Townsend, music editor of Entertainment Zootopia, and of course, Ms. Gazelle."
No one was surprised, but several kids applauded...including Erin.
Three rows back, a young elephant raised his trunk.
"If the time bell rings before we're done—look, I know we have to stop, but will that count against our performance?"
Dr. Vignius flicked his ear and raised an eyebrow. "Ahhh, let's just say that the judges' panel won't be impressed." But before he could call on anyone else, a red panda appeared at the front of the room, beckoning with a pair of fingers.
"Excuse me...Doctor?"
Vignius turned in her direction. "Yes, Claudia?"
She said nothing but only pointed to her watch. When the arkar sheep inspected his own timepiece, both of his eyebrows jumped. "Already?" he muttered, and then to the crowd he said, "Okay, that's all the time we have for questions right now. Mr. Griswold, would you please draw the first ten names?"
The wolf nodded and began to turn the hopper's crank.
By the time the first name dropped, Dr. Vignius and Councilmember Nizhang were already on their way out the door.
"Ahhh, get some help, here?" the wolf called, holding the capsule aloft. He was anything but eager to play master of ceremonies; in fact, he seemed to think that Dr. Vignius had stuck him with the job on purpose. Fortunately there was no shortage of student volunteers in the rehearsal room and one of them, a young lioness, quickly went forward.
Breaking open the capsule, she scanned the contents for a second, and then held it aloft and took hold of the microphone.
"Trinity Gomez, Trinity...Gomez. You're up first!"
"Oh-mi-Gaw, that's ME!" a female voice screamed in the back—and Erin was unable to tell if it was a cry of horror or elation.
The next few names drew similar reactions, but by the time the second group was called, the responses were much less frenetic.
Erin Hopps had not been called for either group, but it didn't bother her. In fact, she was relieved that her name hadn't been part of the first batch. Never mind what she'd said to Sue, the thought of being the first one out on that stage had filled her to the brim with anxiety. Now, at least, she could put that worry to bed.
Just then, she felt her ears come rapidly to attention. Out beyond the rehearsal room walls, someone was speaking on the PA system. A short round of applause followed, then a moment of silence. The next thing she heard was the opening notes of Kim Wildcat's 'Lambodia'
The ZAPA auditions were officially underway.
Even with her keen ears, Erin was unable to make out the lyrics—they came through the walls as too muffled to understand—but Trinity's voice certainly sounded tuneful enough. The audience seemed to think so too, giving her a rousing ovation at the end of her performance. When she returned to the rehearsal room a moment later, the young Patagonian Mara was upbeat but anxious, smiling and walking with a skipping beat...but at the same time wringing her paws. She knew she'd done well...but would it be enough to get her into the Academy? That was when Erin realized something; everyone in here was going to have to wait like, forever to know the answer to that question–including HER.
It did nothing to bolster the young doe-bunny's confidence.
The kids that followed Trini onstage came back in pretty much the same humor as her, hopeful, happy...and hesitant. There was, however, at least one exception to the rule. When one of the mammals in the second group finished his number, he was greeted with a response that literally shook the walls of the rehearsal room. Returning backstage a moment later, the young springbok immediately performed a double backflip, sticking the landing with a pumping fist. He knew he had crushed it and so did everyone else in the rehearsal room; they immediately gave him another round of applause.
By now, the names for the third group had been announced...Erin wasn't called for that one either.
...or the fourth group...
...or the fifth group...
...or the one after that; and now, at last, the young doe-bunny was beginning to feel antsy.
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She wasn't the only one. In the section where the Hopps family was sitting, literally scores of fingers were crossed every time a performer left the stage...and quickly then uncrossed when the next name called wasn't Erin Hopps. It was no help to Judy's peace of mind that some of the performances she's seen were absolute stunners. That springbok-boy's vocals on Lenny Katvitz's Fly Away had been better than the original—AND he'd made it the backdrop of an absolutely killer dance routine.
...And how about that other bunny girl? Her performance of I Feel For You would have been amazing even if she'd only sung Chaka Khat's part. But she'd taken on the rap lyrics too—and performed them through a ventriloquist's dummyWhoa, her sister Erin might have killed it at the Carrot Days festival—but this place was on a whole other level.
Conor Lewis's take on the ventriloquist bunny was somewhat different. Although he'd only been able to see her by way of a surveillance camera, he had also been closer to the action than anyone else in the amphitheater. And so he was aware of something Judy and most of the rest of the crowd had missed. Those rap lyrics hadn't been the girl-bunny singing, they'd been part of her background recording. Her lizard puppet had basically just been pantomiming them. Nothing wrong with it, as long as the judges had been notified up front; but anyone who thought they could pull a Milli-Vanilli in this place would be better off trying to crash the Oscars. In any event, her performance hadn't been quite as awesome as it looked.
But still... Foxin'-A, it was getting stuffy down here. When the heck were they gonna call Erin's name?
As frustrated as the fugitive young silver fox might have been at the moment, his vexation outright paled when compared with that of another of Erin's acquaintances, a lean, muscular young bunny-athlete from The Burrow.
For the first few performances, Max and his cousin had just sat quietly through the show. By the time the third group of performers had finished, he was fidgeting in his seat and even before the next group was done he'd become downright restless. Three times already the raccoons sitting in front of him and Zack had asked the rangy young rabbit to please quit thumping his foot. The first time, the request had been made politely, the second time irritably, and the third instance had come with a warning. One more round of foot-thumping and they'd have him and his cousin ejected from the amphitheater.
Mumbling a quick apology, the young buck-bunny had hastily gotten up from his seat. He hadn't known if that threat carried any real weight, but he wasn't about to find out. In any event, he wasn't really sorry, but he had finally made up his mind about something.
Now he was crouched within a dense row of arborvitae trees lining the outside wall of the amphitheater, not far from the right-side stage entrance. From beyond the shrubbery, he could hear his cousin Zack continuing to fret; a one-bunny Greek Chorus.
Ah well...at least he was remembering to keep his voice down.
"Max, come on...you heard what Erin said about the cops."
"That was inside the theater, Zack," the bigger bunny replied, "not out here." He didn't bother to explain what difference that made, if any. Instead, he continued to pad the ground, looking for a sweet spot, a section of earth unencumbered by roots.
"You don't...."
"Shut up and keep your ears peeled–or else we will get caught."
Zack silenced himself but only for a moment...just long enough for Max to find what he was looking for. He patted the ground twice and started digging. The noise quickly roused his cousin from his silence.
"Max!"
This time, he ignored the smaller bunny.
Tunneling backstage from the outside of the amphitheater was a chancy proposition at best. It was much, much harder to navigate from here than from inside the amphitheater. For all he knew, he might end up under the stage's concrete apron or worse, hit daylight in the middle of the back lawn with a hundred animals staring at him. On the plus side it was a lot safer to start digging from here than from an interior location. Never mind Zack's worries, there was nobody else within a hundred yards at the moment...and the covering foliage was way denser here than it had been for their first excavation.
Max was about 7 feet into the dig when someone pulled at his foot. He tensed, remembering Erin's words, "This isn't Bunnyburrow...."
But then he heard his name spoken, "Max..." and this time it wasn't inside his head.
He turned with his ears laid back.
"Dangit, dude....you're supposed to be keeping a lookout."
His cousin didn't seem to hear him. "C'mon Cuz, let's get out of here."
"All right, all riiiight." The larger bunny half-groaned, half-sighed; there was no talking to Zack when he got like this. He turned to follow him up to the surface.
However he had no intention of abandoning his project...and he intended to make that very clear as soon as they hit the surface.
He never got the chance. No sooner did they emerge from the hole than Zack started in on him.
"Sweet cheez n' crackers, Cuz! What the heck are we doing, digging all these holes? That isn't why we came here." To illustrate, he held up the gym-bag they'd brought.
Max came that close to reaming him out—and he would have too, had someone of a larger species not chosen that moment to pass by their hiding place. Whoever it was moved on quickly without a second's pause, but that tiny interval was all the lanky young rabbit needed to cool his jets and put things in perspective.
"That was before I remembered Erin was here..."
"MAX!"
"Shhhh!"
"Sorry but dude...!"
"Wait, hold it, time out, lemme say something, 'kay?" Max had formed a 'T' with his paws. Now he raised the right one in a bunny scout salute. "Zack, I swear to God, digging our way behind the stage is not what I planned to do all along. I never lied to you, 'kay?"
The smaller bunny only regarded him with a face set in stone, but the coldness of his expression spoke volumes.
"I know, I know," Max heaved a mile-deep sigh. Dangit, he was telling the truth, why couldn't his cousin see that? "You wouldn't have come if I'd told you about Erin to begin with. But cross my heart Cuz, I really didn't remember about her until after we got here. And..." he looked away for a second, biting his lip. "Okay yeah, you're right; she isn't why we came here." He said this and then laid a paw on the smaller bunny's shoulder. "So...why don't you get the heck out of these bushes and go back inside the theater? And then wait till you hear the air-horn; you know what to do."
Zack's eyebrows jumped and his foot nearly thumped; he seemed barely to have stopped it in time.
"B-But....don't you need a...?"
Max cut him off at the knees...but not angrily
"Yeah, but what the heck good would it do?" He was smiling in lopsided resignation. "You can't see anyone coming from inside here." He waved a paw at the surrounding branches. "And if you try to keep watch from outside, I wouldn't be able to hear you from down the hole anyway; you'd have to come in here to warn me." His eyebrows arched upwards, "and how the heck are you supposed to do that without whoever's there seeing you duck into the bushes? No way they won't Zack; so go on and get your tail back inside the theater—and then you carry on like we planned. Don't worry about me, I'll be okay."
"Cuz, I-I..." the smaller bunny's face was a portrait, etched in guilt.
Ahhhh, loyalty...MEH! Max's ears shot backwards and went flat against his neck.
"Hey, what'd I just say, DUMB bunny?" His voice was like the hiss of a high-pressure air-hose. "Go on, get out of here." He stabbed a finger in the direction of nowhere in particular. "Go!"
Zack stared, swallowed, and then nodded dumbly.
And then he was gone.
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Author's Note:
I initially became aware of the first of the two songs Gazelle performs, Animal City, by way of a post on Facebook. Like many others, I'm sure, I assumed at first glance that it was a song about an anthropomorphic community not unlike Zootopia.
It isn't, the subject matter of Animal City is exactly as described in this chapter. I personally consider it to be the best musical take on the price of fame since, well, David Bowie's Fame.
As for that second tune, yep...Shakira (Gazelle) really did once perform an unplugged version of Nothing Else Matters.