Shownotes
Nancy, a seasoned reporter, chases down an interview with the mysterious computer hacker Updike, who has earned infamy by tackling with unsavory and dangerous forces the world over. Little does she know that her meeting with the rabbit will put her in the crosshairs of far more than fame.
Today’s story is the first of two parts of “Relics, Rabbits, and Tuscan Reds” by Slip Wolf, who has published a few dozen works in the Furry Fandom and is now editing his first novel. This particular Story was originally published in Roar Volume Six, published by FurPlanet.
Read by Dirt Coyote, lately of twitter dot com.
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https://thevoice.dog/episode/relics-rabbits-and-tuscan-reds-by-slip-wolf-part-1-of-2
Transcripts
You’re listening to The Voice of Dog.
Speaker:This is Rob MacWolf, your fellow traveler, and Today’s story is the first of two parts of
Speaker:“Relics, Rabbits, and Tuscan Reds”
Speaker:by Slip Wolf, who has published a few dozen works in the Furry Fandom
Speaker:and is now editing his first novel.
Speaker:This particular Story was originally published
Speaker:in Roar Volume Six,
Speaker:published by FurPlanet.
Speaker:Read by Dirt Coyote,
Speaker:lately of twitter dot com.
Speaker:Please enjoy “Relics,
Speaker:Rabbits, and Tuscan Reds”,
Speaker:Part 1 of 2 I have a seat at the café and order a frizzante water,
Speaker:recorder hid under a napkin as I wait.
Speaker:The sun is getting lower over the Piazza del Campo,
Speaker:dragging the massive shadow of the Torra del Mangia,
Speaker:the tower of Siena’s town hall,
Speaker:across the open court.
Speaker:The shadow of the great tower is like a sundial’s hand ticking
Speaker:away the remains of the day.
Speaker:Waiting is always the hard part.
Speaker:A glass of Chianti would settle my nerves, which rarely need the help.
Speaker:I’ve been in hotter spots
Speaker:both literal and figurative in my years on the job,
Speaker:but never has finding the right place at the right time been so difficult
Speaker:or so worth the trouble.
Speaker:I get a drop of water on my whiskers and shake it off.
Speaker:The heat is ebbing slightly;
Speaker:my brown pelt is still warm from the cloud-peeking sun.
Speaker:I look like any other female weasel out here on this square in a quaint little city in the heart of Tuscany,
Speaker:but it’s doubtful he’d recognize me.
Speaker:The bylines on all the articles I’ve published have no photos,
Speaker:and my face is hard to turn up with a Google search.
Speaker:Soon though I may be famous.
Speaker:And earning a serious payday,
Speaker:can’t forget that part.
Speaker:With all the difficulty putting his clues together,
Speaker:the encrypted coordinates to the bus-station down in Rome,
Speaker:and the coded graffiti on the shuttered shops in Bologna,
Speaker:I should be tired right now,
Speaker:but I’m giddy. A one hour window is all he’s granting.
Speaker:His choice, his rules.
Speaker:It’s all I’ll need. Four ways into the Campo,
Speaker:can’t keep eyes on them all.
Speaker:People of all species, sizes, and ages move in and out with consistency.
Speaker:I don’t have any description.
Speaker:I check to make sure my camera bag is still tucked between my feet.
Speaker:It’s doubtful he’ll let me take a photo,
Speaker:but I need my kit close.
Speaker:A snap to my right flicks my ear.
Speaker:A neighboring table has a rabbit taking photos of the Torra,
Speaker:and I realize my contact may assume he’s my photographer.
Speaker:For the fourth time,
Speaker:I start to worry.
Speaker:Can I ask this rabbit to put his camera away?
Speaker:There are several others with equipment,
Speaker:including a lion couple four tables over who are comparing shots
Speaker:while pointing to various features up and down the tower.
Speaker:Only this rabbit, though,
Speaker:is snapping away with abandon.
Speaker:The time is now. I stand the three bread sticks up in a pyramid as requested.
Speaker:The camera snaps as it turns my way.
Speaker:I try not to growl.
Speaker:“Please don’t photograph me.
Speaker:In fact, could you give that a rest?”
Speaker:The rabbit, white-furred with a Trixies band shirt and two blue studs on his left ear,
Speaker:lowers the camera for a second and gives me a baleful blue eye.
Speaker:“I’m testing this out.
Speaker:Just got this DSLR.
Speaker:I don’t mean to annoy you.”
Speaker:I frown, and my tail steals a quick lash,
Speaker:betraying how on edge I am.
Speaker:A minute overdue.
Speaker:I can’t have gotten this wrong.
Speaker:“I’m not annoyed. I just…
Speaker:would rather not be photographed.”
Speaker:The camera slips low, and the
Speaker:rabbit’s face gets long,
Speaker:ears like de-masted flags.
Speaker:“Not even if I can bring out that cute nose of yours?”
Speaker:He weakly tries to smile,
Speaker:blush bordering on a cringe
Speaker:as though uncertain if he’s being lame.
Speaker:Despite myself I have to resist a smile.
Speaker:I’ve been told I have a cute nose before.
Speaker:Many parts of my anatomy have been given stars,
Speaker:to be honest, but the nose was a favorite.
Speaker:“I think you’ll remember this nose well enough without a photo, don’t you?”
Speaker:The rabbit sighs and shrugs,
Speaker:guilt rising on his face.
Speaker:“Well, I don’t want to bother you because you’re clearly waiting for somebody,
Speaker:but I can prove you photograph well.”
Speaker:He fiddles with the switches on his camera,
Speaker:turns it around to hand it to me.
Speaker:I don’t take it at first, looking around to see if anybody had reacted to my bread-stick pyramid yet.
Speaker:Nothing. People wander out of the nearby enotecca with bottles of wine
Speaker:and peruse the souvenir stands for carved sculptures.
Speaker:If he has photos of me…
Speaker:I scan through a slideshow with the arrow button.
Speaker:There are shots of the tower,
Speaker:shots of the square,
Speaker:people milling about,
Speaker:and… me. A sunbeam falls across the water glass on my table as I stare into it,
Speaker:my fur almost gold against my brown t-shirt’s collar,
Speaker:jeans creased as my feet self-consciously clutch the camera between them.
Speaker:Next shot is me again,
Speaker:wider angle, standing out against the throng of patio-diners.
Speaker:The final is from an extremely high angle,
Speaker:almost looking at the wisp of fur standing atop my head.
Speaker:I look up to the only obvious vantage point.
Speaker:He’d shot me from the tower.
Speaker:Just like that he’s sitting across from me.
Speaker:“Thanks for your diligence,”
Speaker:he says with a toothy smile.
Speaker:“Good looks only gets a reporter so far,
Speaker:right?” I sigh with relief.
Speaker:All that effort hadn’t been in vain after all.
Speaker:So this is Updike,
Speaker:the King of Hearts.
Speaker:“Much to my dismay,”
Speaker:I deadpan. “Hello, Updike.”
Speaker:“Nancy Spencer, reporter for the New England Herold.
Speaker:You’ve come a long way from exposing corruption in the Congo
Speaker:haven’t you?” He’s read up on me.
Speaker:Excellent. “And you?”
Speaker:I push the napkin back so I have a place to rest my elbow
Speaker:and set his camera down.
Speaker:My elbow triggers the recorder.
Speaker:“How far have you come?”
Speaker:Updike shrugs. “To be quite honest, I’m always from right where I happen to be.”
Speaker:“Man of the world?”
Speaker:He cocks an ear as he nods to the waiter over my shoulder.
Speaker:The greyhound waiter is at my side,
Speaker:and Updike orders two glasses of Brunello
Speaker:before rolling his eyes left,
Speaker:looking for a creative lie.
Speaker:“It’s helped me a lot to not be tied down.”
Speaker:“Not in your line of work, right?”
Speaker:I cross my legs.
Speaker:Clock’s ticking. I’ll need him talking if I’ll get enough for a decent profile with what he gives me in this hour.
Speaker:After that… He just nods.
Speaker:“So how many aliases have you gone by?
Speaker:I know Updike is something you adopted rather than chose.”
Speaker:“Yeah there’ve been a few.”
Speaker:He looks at his paws on the table.
Speaker:“I’ve forgotten most of them.”
Speaker:“Back when law enforcement was first after you,
Speaker:you were the King of Hearts.”
Speaker:That smile again,
Speaker:this time a little less earnest.
Speaker:“Generic title for a mediocre operator.”
Speaker:That gets me sitting up straight.
Speaker:The tables around us are absorbed in their own conversations,
Speaker:and neither of us can really be recognized,
Speaker:but I keep my voice down.
Speaker:“You call breaking into the FBI’s
Speaker:secure servers mediocre?”
Speaker:Updike takes a deep breath,
Speaker:his grin settling into something more neutral,
Speaker:the true emotions within those blue eyes guarded by a youthful sparkle as he sizes me up.
Speaker:“Everything is doable with patience,
Speaker:and a little confidence.”
Speaker:The sparkle recedes.
Speaker:“But where did that get me,
Speaker:huh? The information I got for my employers at the time caused a lot of real grief.
Speaker:I didn’t know that at the time,
Speaker:just counted my money.”
Speaker:Greif was one word for it.
Speaker:“So after that happened,
Speaker:is that when you…
Speaker:changed direction?
Speaker:Is that when you changed your alias again?”
Speaker:Updike leans back in his chair,
Speaker:eyes darting to the crowds in the square.
Speaker:“Like I said, I changed aliases like underwear.
Speaker:Let’s not stand on ceremony.
Speaker:The Yakuza calls me ‘dead man.’”
Speaker:The smile returns as though it’s a joke.
Speaker:“I only ask because I want to know what identities to tie to your work.”
Speaker:“That’s what you call it?”
Speaker:“What should I call it?”
Speaker:The wine arrives. Updike twirls a bread stick in his fingers, dipping it in olive oil and chewing on it before sipping his red.
Speaker:His eyes meet mine. “I’m not
Speaker:worried. If I’m found, it won’t be poison,
Speaker:trust me.” Time to get to the heart of the matter.
Speaker:“Why? It isn’t just the Japanese.
Speaker:The Tongs, the Mafia, two banana republics and,
Speaker:I suspect, a Russian cabinet minister all want you dead.
Speaker:You did work for them,
Speaker:then you stopped.
Speaker:So what is it? Why are you the most wanted person on Earth?”
Speaker:“Banana Republic? What?
Speaker:Did I hack their Black Friday flyer and forget?”
Speaker:Cute and infuriating aren’t supposed to go this well together.
Speaker:That muzzle wears its grin so naturally,
Speaker:the fuzz under his jaw fluttering in the slight breeze.
Speaker:Smarmy bastard for somebody in as much trouble as he is.
Speaker:“You know what I mean,”
Speaker:I mutter, restraining a laugh.
Speaker:“I slept with the Yakuza bosses’ paramour,
Speaker:then wooed a Mafia don’s daughter. Or was it his son? What can I say,
Speaker:I like to make friends.
Speaker:His blue eyes search mine for a reaction.
Speaker:I’m talking to somebody whose life is measured in hours, and here he is cracking jokes.
Speaker:“Come on,” I say, keeping objective with effort.
Speaker:His face falls in what seems like
Speaker:earnest hurt. “You don’t think I can do that?
Speaker:Just ‘cause I program computers doesn’t mean I’m not good with people, Nancy.”
Speaker:He looks away as he sips the wine.
Speaker:“I need a minute to get myself together after that put down.
Speaker:You really should try some of this.”
Speaker:“If I do, will you tell me what you did after running away from the mob?”
Speaker:I fold my hands and try to look calm and disaffected.
Speaker:My tail beats the brace bar of the patio chair I sit on,
Speaker:betraying my excitement.
Speaker:My tail is sometimes a problem in situations like this.
Speaker:Tension has to go somewhere.
Speaker:He nods. He’s having fun and delighted to show it as he takes another sip.
Speaker:I raise my own glass and try the red.
Speaker:The Brunello is fruity,
Speaker:yet sharp, and washes my palate with spicy tartness that smooths out slowly.
Speaker:I sigh and make myself relax.
Speaker:If this is his game,
Speaker:I can play it and keep things together.
Speaker:It’s not like we will be playing it for long.
Speaker:“Yeah, After the FBI
Speaker:job, I found myself in high demand.
Speaker:But there were issues I had to deal with.
Speaker:As cool as the stunt was,
Speaker:as wonderful the notoriety,
Speaker:there were consequences.
Speaker:An embassy in a far-East country was raided and somebody was killed.
Speaker:They had the codes to gain access.
Speaker:I provided those.
Speaker:That’s the one use of my stolen info that I know of.”
Speaker:His smile was gone now.
Speaker:“Who was the employer?”
Speaker:“Does it matter? I got somebody killed,
Speaker:clapping myself on the back for being a coding ninja and—”
Speaker:He took another rushed sip of the wine to disguise that he had to collect himself.
Speaker:“I couldn’t do it anymore.”
Speaker:“So you ran off, and they’re mad.”
Speaker:“They wouldn’t be happy with me leaving,
Speaker:but that’s not what got me on their bad side.
Speaker:No, they’re mad because I took every job they offered.”
Speaker:I blink. “I don’t follow,
Speaker:why would they—“ “And I didn’t do them.” Updike stares at the breadstick in his paw and takes another bite,
Speaker:munching slow. “That’s how it started anyway.”
Speaker:“You took their contracts to hack computers for them…
Speaker:and didn’t complete them?” “Yup.” When Updike finds his smile again, it’s wry and slightly bitter.
Speaker:“They wanted to know where aid organizations hid their medical shipments,
Speaker:what the security details were like for bribe-resistant politicians,
Speaker:all kinds of really bad stuff.
Speaker:I accepted the contracts,
Speaker:took the money, sent messages to warn their targets somebody was going to ruin their day…
Speaker:and ran.” I sit back,
Speaker:the wine starting to sing in my veins.
Speaker:I take another sip without thinking as it all sinks in.
Speaker:“So you betrayed all those organizations at once.”
Speaker:“Nope, one after the other.”
Speaker:“But surely they put the word out.”
Speaker:“They did. I went underground, made some aliases and spoofed some IPs to get into all the criminal and evil-asshole networks I could.
Speaker:That done, I started taking on contracts for every hack,
Speaker:theft, and assassination being offered,
Speaker:posed as known players in the underworld,
Speaker:took advances to bank accounts I’d had set up for the retainers…
Speaker:and then I sent warnings to local authorities and ran for it.”
Speaker:I blink. This was getting to be too much.
Speaker:I’d known that Updike had been evading the U.S. feds for a long time,
Speaker:and some criminal enterprises had him on their open books,
Speaker:but the reasoning behind it had never been clear.
Speaker:Now that it all makes sense,
Speaker:it’s just dizzying.
Speaker:“So what did you do with the money?"
Speaker:I ask. Updike sips his wine and looks confused.
Speaker:“The money you stole from all these people for the jobs you didn’t do.
Speaker:They have to be extremely pissed off, right?
Speaker:What did you do with all the retainers and down-payments?
Speaker:Did you give it all to charity or something?”
Speaker:Updike looks upward as though trying to think.
Speaker:“Oh, uh… no. I spent it.”
Speaker:“Spent it! Spent it on what?”
Speaker:“Besides transportation to keep moving?
Speaker:Hotels. Cars to get around.
Speaker:Game systems I like.
Speaker:Lots of booze.” He sees my expression and raises his glass.
Speaker:“Hey, I need to unwind.
Speaker:Alcohol helps that a lot.”
Speaker:He pauses to scratch the fur under his chin and shrugs. “So does
Speaker:sex. I pay well for that too.”
Speaker:I nearly choke on a mouthful of Brunello.
Speaker:“What?” He looks at me like I’m crazy.
Speaker:“I’m a healthy male rabbit with needs like anybody else who can’t have a steady girl or boyfriend
Speaker:cause they might get,
Speaker:you know, killed.” He draws a blunt clawed finger across his white throat
Speaker:and then tugs on his shirt as though
Speaker:adjusting an invisible neck-tie.
Speaker:“I sleep with… professionals
Speaker:because I’m a responsible fugitive Nancy.
Speaker:Nobody knows who I am,
Speaker:nobody gets hurt.”
Speaker:He leans forward with a smile that might or might not be genuinely lecherous.
Speaker:“There are some wonderful places to go just outside Rome,
Speaker:let me tell you.” “No, please don’t.
Speaker:I can’t believe this.”
Speaker:My head swims as I try to figure out how much of this I can take seriously.
Speaker:“So what is this, all a game to you?”
Speaker:Updike finishes the last of his wine
Speaker:and looks up to see where the waiter went.
Speaker:“Yes. My life has always been a game, Nancy,
Speaker:always. I just don’t get played anymore by rich sociopaths with expensive suits and bloody knuckles.
Speaker:I’m the one with the chips on the table
Speaker:and the combo finishing move.
Speaker:You should really appreciate what I do,
Speaker:now that I’m a good guy.”
Speaker:His eyes travel over my shoulder,
Speaker:and I turn for just a moment.
Speaker:Just people chattering,
Speaker:coming going. No eyes our way.
Speaker:I turn back to find Updike pushing his chair back.
Speaker:“I’ve got just one question for you;
Speaker:I feel you owe it to me for spilling my predicament to you
Speaker:and making you reporter of the year or month or whatever.”
Speaker:My gaze darts around to see what has drawn his attention.
Speaker:His expression is calm,
Speaker:almost amused,
Speaker:but he’s suddenly in a hurry.
Speaker:I frown at him.
Speaker:“I don’t even know how much of what you just told me was real.”
Speaker:“It's all real, Nancy.
Speaker:I lived a lie at first,
Speaker:back when I told myself I was a good person while doing pretty bad things,
Speaker:but I let it become something real.
Speaker:I decided I could do something better with my talents and went for it,
Speaker:made a difference that mattered to people under the gun.
Speaker:You know what that’s like.
Speaker:When you exposed corruption in the Congo last year in that article,
Speaker:you demonstrated that exposing the bad things people do
Speaker:is important to you too.”
Speaker:He stands up. His praise would bring a blush to my ears under any other circumstances.
Speaker:Right now I’m too dialed up.
Speaker:“Where are you going?
Speaker:You promised me an hour.”
Speaker:“Yes I did. Read your napkin.”
Speaker:He turns and hurries off into the evening crowd of the Pallazzo,
Speaker:ears fluttering as he sprints.
Speaker:He waves something silver in the air that I can’t make out before he vanishes.
Speaker:I swear, looking down to notice there are Euros down in front of me next to my napkin.
Speaker:I turn it over to read the message on it.
Speaker:“Museum in the Duomo’s knave.
Speaker:Twenty minutes. Take a direct route
Speaker:and hurry.” I ponder this for a split second
Speaker:before I realize my recorder is gone.
Speaker:The silver thing in Updike’s paw.
Speaker:“Bastard,” I mutter,
Speaker:grabbing my bag and hurrying across the Pallazo after him.
Speaker:He hasn’t headed west to the Basilica.
Speaker:He’s hurried south to the Piazza Mercato
Speaker:where my car is parked.
Speaker:I see a commotion in the crowd ahead
Speaker:but realize I’m not going to catch him now.
Speaker:After a moment’s indecision,
Speaker:I follow his directions and head west, the cobbles rising between the buildings out of the Palazzo.
Speaker:I pass shops with their ornate wine displays,
Speaker:spherical bottles of sweet grappa filled with crystal ships,
Speaker:souvenir books in multiple languages.
Speaker:Ursine, ungulate, and canine kids chatter in colorful Italian as they
Speaker:queue up outside the gelato shop.
Speaker:Countless flavors tickle my nose and tongue with hints of praline,
Speaker:chocolate, and espresso.
Speaker:It’s a beautiful city here, preserved in its medieval aspects on the directives of Mussolini,
Speaker:whose fascism created many indirectly beautiful things
Speaker:in the wake of his horrors over sixty years ago.
Speaker:I take the knowledge in stride.
Speaker:My line of work seems to always put me in direct contact with what’s wrong with the world,
Speaker:even in places where things couldn’t be more idyllic.
Speaker:If it weren’t so exciting
Speaker:I don’t know how I could deal with many of the disquieting things I’ve seen.
Speaker:I watch an otter lick mint chocolate off his own nose and envy the kid’s innocence.
Speaker:Don’t I deserve a break from war-torn Republics and their soul-rending terrors?
Speaker:I can only blame myself.
Speaker:This is the life I chose after all.
Speaker:Winding past a pizzeria, mozzarella and herb scents drifting airily
Speaker:as one more seduction to slow me down,
Speaker:I come to the steps that rise to the back end of Il Duomo,
Speaker:the second largest Domed Cathedral in Italy after Brunelleschi’s masterpiece in Florence.
Speaker:The walls arch several stories high,
Speaker:white and black marble in horizontal stripes.
Speaker:The museum Updike refers to lays just south of it,
Speaker:where a failed extension to the cathedral in the fourteenth century left a long outer wall joining it to the Duomo.
Speaker:Inside, architectural components of the cathedral are stored out of the elements,
Speaker:as well as some other surprises.
Speaker:I notice the metal detectors immediately and realize the contents of my camera bag will set it off.
Speaker:I find a pay locker at the entrance,
Speaker:insert it gingerly,
Speaker:and then settle the admittance fee with a relaxed badger watching an action movie on a tablet before moving in amongst the curios and curious.
Speaker:Updike said twenty minutes, and I feel my heart thrum in my chest at the prospect of meeting him again,
Speaker:providing he hasn’t given me the slip for good.
Speaker:The desire to run after him had been a strong one,
Speaker:even if catching him would have been nigh impossible in these late-day crowds.
Speaker:I realize that if my recorder would set-off the alarm,
Speaker:it might shortly be in one of these lockers where my kit is, if it isn’t already.
Speaker:Keeping my senses open stops me from getting too furious at myself.
Speaker:I had him there, right there, after months of sifting and searching.
Speaker:And I let him go.
Speaker:If he’s gone… Taking my recorder was just an added shame,
Speaker:and I’m glad I have no other interviews on it.
Speaker:I wonder if he’ll realize that I’ve been seeking only him for the last two months and find that suspicious.
Speaker:No other stories,
Speaker:no interviews. No other work.
Speaker:For just a moment,
Speaker:I can feel those blue eyes looking through me,
Speaker:his face curving a sly smile around his regrets.
Speaker:How long did we have for all that work,
Speaker:ten minutes? Twenty?
Speaker:There’s still so much story to be told,
Speaker:so much to learn.
Speaker:And then of course,
Speaker:my employer wants results.
Speaker:As I quickly move from statue to stain-glass to transplanted frieze,
Speaker:I see some well-preserved period restoration work,
Speaker:but the only rabbit here is brown-furred and bent with age.
Speaker:Updike can’t have disguised himself that quickly.
Speaker:I keep his slim-jawed, short-muzzled image in my mind,
Speaker:and it’s a rather easy image to hold onto actually.
Speaker:He’s much more attractive than what I’d imagine any computer hacker would look like,
Speaker:truth be told — yeah I’ve got an outdated imagination, sue me --
Speaker:and obviously he takes care of himself.
Speaker:Honestly, it's the least I should expect from somebody who spends his life running from mobsters and media.
Speaker:Updike does a lot of running.
Speaker:Also, there’s that ego of his.
Speaker:Contrite or honestly sorry for his misdeeds,
Speaker:I kind of expected the overconfidence part.
Speaker:What does surprise me is the reasons behind everything he’s into.
Speaker:I knew the honest facts regarding the fed’s interest in him,
Speaker:but the criminal side of things was supposed to be a little different.
Speaker:Word was, Updike had just disappointed a few powerful people.
Speaker:Yeah, and a couple disappointments can put every criminal organization and corrupt nation
Speaker:you can think of hard on someone’s heels.
Speaker:All the bad people,
Speaker:who of course don’t go on record,
Speaker:say he’s just a nuisance who needs to be made an example of and nothing more.
Speaker:This is what my digging has told me,
Speaker:and at the time, it seemed to add up.
Speaker:My mind has long worked fast enough to sniff out lies, and Occam’s razor is warm to my touch right now.
Speaker:I hear the breath behind me before the soft touch at my shoulder,
Speaker:and I resist the urge to turn around.
Speaker:“Sorry I’m late,” Updike says jovially,
Speaker:pausing to catch his breath.
Speaker:“I was having a drink in an Internet cafe when my server went down on me.”
Speaker:I groan as I turn around,
Speaker:my tail brushing his knee as I do.
Speaker:He’s close enough to touch now,
Speaker:so soon after I let him go.
Speaker:“You owe me more time,” I say evenly.
Speaker:“I owe you more than that.”
Speaker:Updike’s eyes dart around the room and then to the door.
Speaker:His chest rises and falls quick as though he is slightly out of breath.
Speaker:“I owe you an explanation.”
Speaker:The look in his eyes hides a little more than
Speaker:a few regrets. “What do you mean?”
Speaker:“Not here. Let's go up a floor to the relics room.
Speaker:The stairs are the only way up there.”
Speaker:“Why does that mean anything?”
Speaker:An eye on the entrance again.
Speaker:“I’ll tell you when we’re not here.
Speaker:There are cameras all over the place. That’s a good thing.” I narrow my gaze at him
Speaker:as we move up the stairs.
Speaker:He leads the way, looking ahead,
Speaker:then past me. “I didn’t think cameras would be good for somebody like you,”
Speaker:I mutter. Less than a minute later and one floor up,
Speaker:we stand in a room full of
Speaker:gilded ornate boxes and chalices behind glass.
Speaker:There is only one other person up here, a horse standing carefully back from one object that he blinks at in amazement.
Speaker:I turn myself and see one long box with a glass top.
Speaker:In it, on a velvet bed,
Speaker:lays a long white stick of wood.
Speaker:I blink as I realize the ends
Speaker:are too round and knobby for it to be wood.
Speaker:It’s a mammal’s femur.
Speaker:The next item, in an octagonal chalice, catches the room’s weak light. On a stand of incense and herbs, a jawless cat skull regards me coolly.
Speaker:“Relics of saints and bishops and holy men,”
Speaker:Updike sniffs. “This is probably the most surveillance-filled room in the city right now,
Speaker:though I hope there’s no sound recording.” His long
Speaker:ears swivel as he looks from camera to camera, paws in his pockets,
Speaker:fluffy feet shuffling on the sound-reducing carpet.
Speaker:“Aren’t you worried about being seen?”
Speaker:“The FBI doesn’t know what I look like.
Speaker:And those who do aren’t watching this feed, trust me.
Speaker:It’s a place no assassin would try anything.”
Speaker:“So why are we finishing our interview in here?”
Speaker:Updike looks at an arrangement of metacarpal bones built into a crafted replica of a golden paw.
Speaker:“It kind of fits. We both seek precious things to expose,
Speaker:and you’ve turned up a few bones in your time, haven’t you?”
Speaker:“You have no idea.”
Speaker:It's true; I’ve been in rooms with some real monsters,
Speaker:getting their sides of things only to later find bones as real as the ones we’re standing near,
Speaker:in places I’m not supposed to look.
Speaker:I don’t want to waste time talking about my experiences, so I say no more.
Speaker:Updike’s smile weakens.
Speaker:He has the bearing of somebody trying to avoid something unpleasant.
Speaker:He scuffs a claw on his foot.
Speaker:“I think I do. Aw hell,
Speaker:there’s no easy way to say this.
Speaker:Have you wondered yet why it’s you?”
Speaker:My whiskers twitch with my nose.
Speaker:The air is too dry in here.
Speaker:All I can smell is rabbit.
Speaker:Worried rabbit. “Why it’s me…?”
Speaker:“Who I picked to interview me.
Speaker:Wolf Blitzen with CFN
Speaker:offered me a million dollars for a sit-down in an anonymous location.
Speaker:Turned him down. Al-Jazerra?
Speaker:Them too. You wouldn’t guess what they offered.”
Speaker:I did wonder, but was certain as to why he
Speaker:had chosen me. “You’ve read my stuff.
Speaker:You know about my exposure of corruption in the Congo,
Speaker:and my exposé into police brutality in many countries.”
Speaker:I can see a reluctance to answer in his eyes and strangely,
Speaker:though I’ve just met him,
Speaker:the hurt in those eyes puts a surprising pit in my stomach.
Speaker:“Yes and no. I am here for your reporting, and the Congo corruption article was a factor,
Speaker:but not in the way you think.
Speaker:I’m here because of what I do, Nancy.
Speaker:I buy contracts to do bad things
Speaker:and don’t do them.”
Speaker:He beams crookedly.
Speaker:“I just did it again.”
Speaker:The room grows colder and tighter,
Speaker:the bones catching sickly light as his words sink in.
Speaker:“You mean—“ “Yeah. That wine I bought you on the Palazzo out there?
Speaker:That was bought with the advance on your contract.
Speaker:The one on your head, specifically.
Speaker:You have to admit it was some damn fine wine.”
Speaker:I’ve been in mortal danger before,
Speaker:me and my camera bag and my tenacity,
Speaker:shooting in places I’m not supposed to shoot, biting down on information, scandals,
Speaker:things in places I shouldn’t be with people I shouldn’t know.
Speaker:My life and profession have been dedicated to honing myself against fear
Speaker:so I’m not afraid right now.
Speaker:Hell, I’m not even surprised.
Speaker:If you read my article and understand exactly what befell those hyena and lion families whose ring of sins had been exposed,
Speaker:well, anybody reading that could imagine why they would want me dead.
Speaker:“Dammit.” I say it a little louder than intended,
Speaker:and the horse throws a glare in my direction before leaving the exhibit.
Speaker:“Pretty much,” Updike offers weakly.
Speaker:“Welcome to my world.”
Speaker:“What the hell am I supposed to do?”
Speaker:I wonder if all these cameras on us are helping or hindering us right now.
Speaker:Being totally alone with Updike,
Speaker:I realize that any move against him,
Speaker:or me, will be captured by dozens of lenses.
Speaker:“We can’t stay here forever.
Speaker:Plus it’s not like they’re following me now, is it?”
Speaker:I really don’t like that wince.
Speaker:“I’m sorry, but when I wasn’t the only one to pick up that contract.
Speaker:I did some research on the other IP that accessed it,
Speaker:and let’s just say there was somebody across the plaza whom I recognized.
Speaker:It was… him.” “Him?” My heart is pumping now.
Speaker:I’m anxious, but it’s an anger now, not a fear.
Speaker:Go ahead and think that’s stupid,
Speaker:but this tendency is one of the reasons I’m so good at my job.
Speaker:“The coyote they call Sinjun Clairemont,
Speaker:lairs in Tennessee.
Speaker:Lots of kills in lots of places,
Speaker:mostly for the New York and other East-coast syndicates,
Speaker:very rarely works abroad
Speaker:unless the pay’s really good.
Speaker:I posed as him online to secure a couple murder contracts and then warned his intended victims.
Speaker:Yeah, he’s not too happy with me about that.”
Speaker:Updike licks his lips to get them wet.
Speaker:“I saw him here today.
Speaker:There’s no chance that’s a coincidence.
Speaker:coincidence.” Goddammit. A hired gun in Siena, and Updike manages to spot him.
Speaker:I haven't gambled on something like this.
Speaker:I have to get out of here.
Speaker:I have to get my camera bag from my locker and go.
Speaker:And Updike, who I’ve come for --
Speaker:what to do about the rabbit who showed himself to this murderous coyote?
Speaker:I should just get what I’ve come for and get out,
Speaker:get him someplace without cameras
Speaker:where every word won’t be heard,
Speaker:and finish this so I can collect my payday.
Speaker:But I’m frozen in place,
Speaker:and not out of any fear for my own life.
Speaker:For the first time ever,
Speaker:after relentlessly chasing dozens of people around the globe who don’t want to be found,
Speaker:who don’t want to see my determined muzzle and hear my insistent voice,
Speaker:I realize I’m having doubts about the whole thing.
Speaker:It hits me all at once
Speaker:that this rabbit has literally been engineering all his moves in the last half hour
Speaker:in a bid to protect me.
Speaker:The stories in my file tell of harassment and
Speaker:intimidation and scrapes with politically corrupt people of power who hate what I do,
Speaker:but despite all this, despite threats enough to fill a whole journal,
Speaker:I’ve never had an assassin after me in any of those misadventures.
Speaker:And I’ve never had someone who’s just met me trying to protect me
Speaker:either. It makes no sense.
Speaker:Updike knows that all I want from him is a story,
Speaker:that he is a meal-ticket to me,
Speaker:a claim to journalistic fame.
Speaker:And yet he’s risking his life for me anyway,
Speaker:has been since he picked out my contract on line and arranged the clues to our hookup.
Speaker:He’s been feeding me clues for days now,
Speaker:which means he’s been trying to protect me for that long.
Speaker:And he hadn’t even met me.
Speaker:And all the people I’ve talked to about him,
Speaker:in desperate bids to scrape together his backstory,
Speaker:lied about him. They told me he was a coward,
Speaker:a cheat, a sexist pig —
Speaker:that last part still maybe true —
Speaker:and deserved a bullet far more than
Speaker:any breaking exposé.
Speaker:He’ll slink away to the shadows as soon as you get close.
Speaker:Now go get him, little mustelid.
Speaker:I should thank him,
Speaker:right here and now,
Speaker:but realizing how much I’ve been deceived pisses me off a little,
Speaker:and I don’t want to show him.
Speaker:Why did this have to be so complicated?
Speaker:In the space of these few seconds,
Speaker:Updike is figuring what else he should tell me.
Speaker:“I ran past him,” he says,
Speaker:“and I introduced myself on the way by.
Speaker:Fortunately he was distracted enough when that happened for you to slip away.
Speaker:I’m a bigger fish,
Speaker:right?” “You… you could have been killed,”
Speaker:I mutter. “Nope. I kept to the main streets and found the right alley.
Speaker:I know this city really well;
Speaker:it's one of the reasons I picked it to meet you.
Speaker:He can’t do what he wants to do in public,
Speaker:or in a place like this where the cameras are everywhere.
Speaker:I know how to stay in sight as often as I can stay
Speaker:out of it.” There’s that self-satisfied smile again.
Speaker:“So how do we keep doing that?”
Speaker:“There’s an exit up here,
Speaker:goes to the rooftops.
Speaker:I can get us to a safe place nearby until we can leave.”
Speaker:“I have to get my camera bag.”
Speaker:“Leave it. I’ll buy you another camera.”
Speaker:My mind races as I realize what he’s saying.
Speaker:“But my passport is in there,
Speaker:as is my wallet.” “What?
Speaker:Why would you--?” “I didn’t know I’d be fleeing this place, did I?”
Speaker:“My camera is downstairs too.
Speaker:I’m willing to let it go.”
Speaker:“I have to get my passport.
Speaker:And I guess you don’t need the contents of your bag to do your job.
Speaker:Speaking of which,
Speaker:is my recorder down there?”
Speaker:“You’re going to worry about that?
Speaker:With your life in danger?”
Speaker:“You already know, Updike.” I fold my arms.
Speaker:“That’s when I’m at my best.”
Speaker:Anxiety is starting to creep in,
Speaker:the reality of the situation catching up to where we are,
Speaker:but I keep it buried under a professional demeanor.
Speaker:His shoulders slump.
Speaker:The rabbit is kind of cute when he’s defeated,
Speaker:which is a disturbing thing to realize.
Speaker:We make our way back down,
Speaker:a longing look at the upper floor roof exit drawing a sigh from the rabbit.
Speaker:I don’t know what he had in store three stories up, but I guess it’s better than what he fears awaits us elsewhere.
Speaker:Out at security, we get our respective shoulder bags and trade looks that ask,
Speaker:What now? I walk over to him.
Speaker:“He has to be outside, right? If he’s got a gun?”
Speaker:“Or knives.” Updike frowned.
Speaker:“Sorry, that’s not helping.
Speaker:Here. Another for your collection.”
Speaker:He hands me another scrawled napkin before gazing past me at the entrance to the bright outdoors.
Speaker:His expression hardens.
Speaker:“Don’t turn around,
Speaker:look at me. Straight at me.”
Speaker:I freeze, ears flicking backwards.
Speaker:“What’s—“ “Walk over to the security stand,
Speaker:and tell them you’ve lost your wallet.
Speaker:Stand as close to him as possible,
Speaker:and get his full attention.
Speaker:Do it right now.” I can tell from the way his voice drops,
Speaker:from his narrowing eyes, the way his legs part to widen his stance —
Speaker:the assassin is here.
Speaker:This was the first of two parts of
Speaker:“Relics, Rabbits, and Tuscan Reds” by Slip Wolf,
Speaker:read by Dirt Coyote,
Speaker:lately of twitter dot com..
Speaker:Tune in next time to find out how Nancy and Updike
Speaker:contend with their relentless foe.
Speaker:As always, you can find more stories on the web at thevoice.dog,
Speaker:or find the show wherever you get your podcasts.
Speaker:Thank you for listening
Speaker:to The Voice of Dog.