Isn't Life The Craziest Thing?
By Chris Hoekstra
Sequel to Lewis's story

Lewis was doing his favorite thing to do on Ryess. That was currently sitting on the top of the stairs to his 5th story apartment, staring at the miles of endless sand, drinking himself stupid. He hated his life as a military tech. Sure, when he signed up for it, it sounded like the way to go. After all, the future was space. But instead of being up there, working on the machines like he had always wanted, he was stuck here in the desert, wasting his life away.

Damn recruiters. Pestering him to join up, then yanking the rug out from under him. Here he was. A solitary red fox. A lonely, drunk, solitary red fox. Oh, he may not be the only vulpine on Ryess, but he was the only person that he felt comfortable around. The lovely Lt. Varnoff, a prime example of the perfect vixen, was also on the base. But as the regs stated, enlisted and officers don't mix. That was the way of things around here.

Fucking military. Lewis took a large swig of the wine to try and drown his miseries, while he resumed his study of the desert skyline. Oh, sure. The lieutenant was quite a female. A shapely arctic fox, and quite smart for an officer. And like him, a hopeless romantic, though one tempered by hurt and bitterness. She had come to his place last week, and opened her heart him. She had confided in him, she had bared her soul, opened up to him like no one had in the past. And what had he done? He turned her down. The only other fox on this whole godforsaken rock, and he had turned her away. Starting to feel the effects of the wine, and a rare desert breeze ruffling the orange fur at his cheeks, Lewis lost himself in the memories of the encounter.

He sat there, with his eyes closed, remembering the way her fur looked, the way her hand felt as she held his arm, the smoldering hunger that pervaded her deep blue eyes. He was sitting there, drinking in the bitter sweet memories, when the sounds of foot falls on the metal stairs below rudely snapped him out of his revere.

'Ah, hell! Who's that?' he thought. Glaring angrily over the rim of his glass, Lewis was greeted by a very unusual sight. Much to his surprise, he saw another vulpine jogging up the steps. His guest was a rare black fox, wearing a gray t-shirt and whitish-grey shorts. The stranger's face was wearing a slight grin, his eyes covered by small, dark black sunglasses.

"Hi there, Lewis. How's everything going?" Sitting himself down on the vacant folding chair, the new comer kicked his feet up on the rail and looked over at Lewis with a friendly grin.

"Okay asshole, give me one reason why I shouldn't heave you over the railing right now." growled Lewis.

"Oh, Lewis..." said the stranger, adding a disappointed clicking sound with his tongue. "I thought that being a lone vulpine out in the middle of the desert, that you would welcome some company. And from the look on your face, I think that you could use it... I know I could."

Taken aback for a moment by this comment, Lewis looked over his new arrival with a new found interest. While he did like his privacy, there was only so much one could keep inside. And Lewis had passed that limit some time ago. "Fine then. What is it that you expect?"

The visitor leaned his head back to stare at the blue, blue sky overhead. "Oh, not much. Some company, some conversation. Perhaps some wine," he said, gesturing to the glass of wine Lewis had been sipping. "Not much else."

"Well, if you want conversation, then I think that you should at least give me your name," Lewis informed him, as he took a small sip from his glass. "It's a little difficult to make talk to someone whom you don't even know..."

Setting his feet back on the ground, the stranger reached into one of his hip pockets. "True enough, my friend. It's just that with the profession that I'm in, you don't get many chances to practice the social graces." Taking an ornate pen, and an ID card out of his pocket, the visitor clicked the back half of the pen open, forming an inverted "L" shape. He then slipped the ID card into a slot there and clicked open a small control panel above the card. "Use the arrows to scroll up and down," he instructed, passing the setup over to Lewis

Not sure what to expect, Lewis set his glass down next to him and took the device. 'Dirk Rickkter, hun?' thought Lewis to himself, as he looked over a standard maintenance badge. '3rd class grunt... nothing special.'

Glancing over at his mysterious guest, who by this point has returned to studying the barren landscape ahead, Lewis compared him to the picture on the card. 'Sure enough is him. Bad picture thought. I wonder what he meant by the arrows ...' When he pressed one of the small pads on the miniature control panel, he was astounded to see the ID card change before his eyes. While the name was the same, the card type, and other stats about Rickkter, had changed. Even the picture was different, with the exception of the bright yellow eyes in the face of a vulpine Commander.

As he continued to press the little buttons Lewis was greeted by a more and more identities. While most are of the black vulpine, there were some pictures where he was a red fox, an arctic fox, and even a few where he resembled Lewis's own orangish coloring. There was even a picture where he looked remarkably similar to a coyote. The only thing consistent during the whole show, was the eyes. While changing color for some pictures, they always have the same bright, piercing quality to them.

After several minutes of the beeping through the ID's Lewis was interrupted by the stranger. "Now that you have a some idea of who I am, perhaps you will finally let me partake in some of that wine of yours."

"Umm... Sure." Still reeling from the implications of who he might be sitting next to, Lewis reached behind him for the spare glass he always kept as a backup. The military life rubbing off on him, perhaps. "So who are you anyway? Really?" Lewis hesitantly asked when he passed over the glass and bottle.

Taking the glass and bottle, and proceeding to fill himself a generous helping, the stranger answered simply. "Press the square button in between the arrows."

Giving his guest one final glance, Lewis gave in and pressed the button. What he saw was the single biggest shock of his life. Staring him in the face, plain as day, was the ID card of one of the Tal'Sheir. Forcing his eyes back into his head, he began to read the information. According to the card he was speaking with one Major Bruce Furlon, of the 5th tactical squad.

'This guy's security clearances are enough to boggle the mind! Look at this! Eighth level ultra-violet, level six command authority... this is crazy.' When he looked back at the picture of the black vulpine that he is so familiar with, it seemed to take on an almost frightening quality, now that the true nature behind its look was revealed.

Fully realizing who he was sitting next to, Lewis jumped up and tried to perform a proper military salute, thought due to the confined space he failed miserably.

"Lewis, sit down. If I gave a damn about stupid military protocol, do you think that I would have let you play with that little toy of mine there? Relax." Furlon took another sip and motioned with his glass. "Sit down, Lewis."

"Yes, sir." Lewis quickly sat himself back down. "Whatever you say, sir."

Furlon rubbed his forehead, his ears laid back and a pained expression on his face. "Lewis, Lewis. You're just not listening. Do you think that if the command knew who I was, they would be letting me wander around here? No, of course not." He took back his ID card and pen. "As far as they are concerned, I am," he clicked through several identities, "Bruce Furlon, Biocode Specialist. Whatever the fuck that is." Removing the card and refolding the pen, pocketed them both and turned back to Lewis. "So you see, if you go around calling me Sir, or Major, then they might get suspicious. So just call me Bruce, okay?" he asked, turning back to the endless sand. "Oh, and if any of your buddies from the hangers ask, it's Rickkter."

"If you don't mind my asking Bruce, what is one of the Tal'Sheir doing on a military base in the middle of no where? And what are you doing talking to me, of all people?"

Furlon gave a tight smile. "That's better. And for your question, it isn't exactly the middle of nowhere. It's a stopover between my point of departure, and my destination." He continued in a slightly softer voice. "For once, I'm finally going home." He leaned back to take a long pull from his glass. "And I choose you, because I haven't had the opportunity to talk with one of my own kind in over two and a half years. And because, from your files, you reminded me of me at your age. Well, to a degree any way," he elaborated, shrugging his shoulders.

"Lewis, have you ever heard of what some of our allies call a 'Mustang'? It's a term used to refer to an enlisted man, turned officer." Furlon sipped some more of his wine. "That's me. Like you, I enlisted right out of college. More to punctuate the dreariness of my life, then because I felt the need to serve my planet. That was all before the war started, of course..." Smacking his tongue on the top of his mouth, he turned back to Lewis. "You know, I've drank about quite a bit of this stuff, and I still can't tell the year. What is it?"

Startled form his revere, Lewis bent over and handed Furlon up the bottle. "Ah, the '32!" Furlon mused a few moments after looking. He gently set it back down on the balcony. "A good year that was." Letting a blissful expression overcome his face, as he slouched back in the chair, his wineglass' stem loosely clutched between his furry fingers. "Let me see here...", and Bruce proceeded to launch into a long and flowing ramble, reciting statistics and events from that time, both from home world and the Interstellar Alliance.

Lewis was suddenly snapped to attention when he realized that Furlon has stopped talking. Looking over at his visitor, Lewis found him staring deeply into his glass of wine, as if trying to divine the answer to some deep sought question. Holding the glass a little higher, to better refract the light of the desert sun, Furlon spoke in a very hushed voice. "... I was only ten then, when my cousin had her twins." A blissful smile passed over his face. "They were the most adorable little things. All white, with a light dusting of black spots. Very rare, very beautiful. There is nothing like holding something so precious for the first time. They would be about 10 years old now." His expression darkened, the stem of the glass slipping through his fingers with the bulb coming to rest in his palm. Furlon's fingers gripped it tightly, as if to crush the fine glass.

"That was before the war though. Their whole family was on Raggesh 3 when the enemy attacked. They came out of nowhere, no warning, no mercy. They shredded the orbital defenses like paper... and they didn't even have the decency to at least occupy the planet." Taking a deep breath, he spoke through clenched teeth. "Those bastards bombed the whole planet from orbit. They scoured every square inch of it with nuclear fire!! When I finally heard what happened, I got on the first rescue ship I could. There was nothing left on the surface! Nothing! Raggesh 3: The most beautiful planet in the Alliance, now reduced to a thousand year monument to the horror's of war." He reached up with his free hand to rub his eyes, and perhaps attempt to wipe away some of the things he was seeing. With the sunglasses now resting on his forehead, Lewis finally got his first look at the piercing yellow eyes. "Damn it all..." Furlong muttered as he leaned his head back and squinted out at the endless desert terrain.

"Tell me Lewis. What do you know of the Tal'Sheir?" Furlon asked after a little while.

Gathering his thoughts for a moment, Lewis phrased his response carefully. "Well, not much more then anyone else. The Tal'Sheir have always been a rather Black Bag organization. I hear that you run intelligence, do assassinations, strategic strikes deep behind enemy lines. All that sort of stuff." He paused for a moment. "How am I doing?"

Furlon gave an amused laugh. "Not that bad. We do all that and more." Bruce still didn't move his eyes from the place where they had settled on his lap. "Much more. You see, while some believe us a part of the military, that is not the truth. We exist outside all chains of command, out on our own. The military gives us targets, intelligence, and support when we need it. They also pay for the services we provide them. All that we do is take their money, and their help, and we go out and wage warfare on the enemy. The Tal'Sheir have an intelligence network that makes what the military has look primitive by comparison. We have the latest cutting edge technology, both in strategies, weapons, and ships, and even some beyond cutting edge." He sighed deeply now. "And we put all of this to many uses. Assassinations, strategic strikes, computer hacking, sabotage, kidnapping, espionage, disinformation, biological and technological weapons research, and advancements in any field that helps us achieve the goal of eliminating our enemies. That was the prime reason for my joining them, as a matter of fact."

Suddenly he turned back to Lewis. "Tell me Lewis, do you have a purpose in life? Something that you want more then anything else? A goal to focus your whole mind upon?"

"Well, no Bruce, I don't." He reconsidered his last statement for a few more moments. "Wait. Actually there is one. I want off this dust heap of a planet. I want the chance to undo all the mistakes I've made in my life recently." Lewis' tone became angry. "I want this whole nightmare to end! I want to wake up tomorrow in bed, back home, lying next to...." But the truth of what he was just about to say, prevented him from ever completing the sentence.

"...Lt. Varnoff?" asked Furlon, completing the thought for him.

The expression on the face of the visitor had changed. He now wore a very sad smile, and the eyes had lost their reflective, piercing quality. They had melted into something completely different. They now possessed a quality that seemed to say they understood all that Lewis had expressed, because they were filled with a pain so similar in origin.

"Yes I know the lieutenant. Believe it or not, you weren't my first choice. I would much rather be with that beautiful vixen, then you. No offence." Pausing to see what effect this would have on Lewis, Furlon continued when he got a negligible reaction. "I checked the personal files upon arrival. While my current persona doesn't have the security clearances to do that, that's never stopped me before. Since I'm traveling as an officer, I naturally checked those first." He turned back to the desert terrain. "She is quite impressive. But I guess you already knew that. You see, when I went to see her she was not in the most... friendly mood. She seemed depressed about something. Violently depressed." Bruce raised his eyebrows for emphasis. "I have never had any -- any -- female lose it on me like she did. I introduced myself, asked her to join me at the officers club for some dinner, and she snapped. She accused me of being like all other males, of only wanting her body not her mind, then she ran out of the office holding her face, sobbing the whole way."

"So what did you do?"

"What could I do? I tucked my tail between my legs and slunked out of there. I changed my identity, my clothes, then made a nuisance of myself around the hangers for a bit. Some of your fellow enlisteds asked me if I knew you, and since I didn't, I decided to look you up. And after a quick change of clothing, here I am. Lewis, would you mind telling me what you did to Varnoff to make her that upset?" He saw that Lewis was not going to be forthcoming with the answer. "Come on, Lewis. I've taken great risk telling you what I already did. I expect something in return." Lewis was still sitting there, staring into his wine. "You don't have to worry about anyone finding out. If there's one thing you should know about me, it's that I can keep a secret."

"She came here last week," started Lewis in a very quite tone. "She said she wanted to talk. And we did. About life, and how each of us came to be here. She was the first person that I could really open up to around here. Anyway, she and I talked for a while, much like you and I are doing right now." Lewis stated to feel the hurt of the incident all over again. "That was when she wanted something more. She wanted to start a relationship. And we both knew it would go far beyond friendship."

"So what did you do?"

"I turned her down," he huffed. "It was the best thing I could do, for the both of us."

"You don't sound convinced," observed Furlon.

"Oh, I hate my life!" moaned Lewis has he reached up covering his eyes with his hands, rubbing the space on his head between his ears. "Why can't it ever just go back to the way it was?!" He hunched over, settling his elbows on his knees. "If it only wasn't for those damn regulations restricting interaction between officers and enlisteds. Military life screws up everything."

"Yes, it does, Lewis. Here we are, risking our lives on a regular basis, and we almost never get thanks for what we do." A look of disgust came across Furlon's muzzle. "You wouldn't believe how many times I've been confronted with the attitude that all warriors are bloodthirsty, that we somehow like the killing that we do. That they're somehow better because they enjoy the freedom that we provide them, yet they don't even have to wonder how it comes about. I've even had to deal with it in the military. You wouldn't believe how many of the brass have no idea on how to use soldiers." A nasty grin crept across his muzzle. "There is no better feeling in the universe then being able to tell an admiral, to their face and in front of a room of their peers, that they are wrong, that you refuse to follow their plan, and then have them do what YOU tell them. It's ironic," he huffed. "Even with all the extra freedoms that the Tal'Sheir grants, I'm still denied the ability to truly live my own life."

Bruce refreshed himself with a large sip of his wine. "You know, Lewis, the Tal'Sheir could use a fox like you. We're always in need of tech-heads. I've read all the files on you and you're perfect for the job. Highly educated, and a wizard with machines. You could fulfill your dreams about working all over the galaxy on the very latest technology. It offers great pay and excellent opportunity for advancement. It's also not an offer made to many. Of course there is all the travel, and the fact that you would have to go undercover everywhere. But I think that you could handle that aspect of the job." He sighed deeply, a look of resignation coming over his face. "It's too bad that you could never work for us," he said as he took another pull of wine, leaning back as if to say that the statement were final.

Lewis frowned in confusion. "Why did you just say that? If what you've just said about the Tal'Sheir is correct, and they are always looking for those with my experience, then why not?" Raising his arms, he gestured to the barren terrain. "Look at this! I've got nothing here, Bruce! No opportunity, no future, nothing! So why can't I take this offer of yours?"

Turning back from the desert, Furlon gave Lewis a look of timeless understanding. "Because you have family, Lewis. That's why. All soldiers must live with death, every moment of their service. Even more so for members of our organization. We do the missions that are too hazardous for the military to take, the missions that are deemed too 'high risk' for the them to perform a full scale operation." Taking a sip of wine, more to keep from talking then because he needed it, Furlon waited a moment more before continuing. "That is why all of our operatives are single. So that they have no ties to the outer world, and have no one to miss them when they don't return. No one to ask 'why?', when our men don't come back. Saves the military a lot of uncomfortable explanations." A sad look came over his face. "I've lost more friends in the last 4 years, then most loose in a lifetime. Our enemy is always eager to add one of our ranks to their kill list.

"Then there is the matter of security. If you're single then the enemy has no hold over you. No one to track you back to, and no one besides your colleges for whom you care about. It's a very risky, and very solitary life, Lewis, but it was what I wanted 4 years ago. Since I was in the intelligence community at the time, I kept hearing this name mentioned over and over again. Never in the official reports or anything, but there were lots of whispered rumors of the Tal'Sheir." Furlon got that haunted, far off look in his eyes again. "When my family was wiped out at Raggesh 3, all I wanted was revenge for what was done to them, and from what I heard the Tal'Sheir were the key. So I pulled every rope I could, yanked every chain, rattled every cage, and called in every favor I was owed. It took me 3 months to learn the location of their computer mainframe. It took me another 3 weeks to finally crack it. Based on the information I found within, I decided to show up and introduce myself at their main headquarters. Suffice it to say, their command was NOT happy when they found out what I had done." Bruce laughed, a big smile on his muzzle. "Hell, that's putting it too mildly. They went through the roof. They were PISSED!

"I'm just thankful that their leader had some respect for people able to pull such a stunt. Vengeance can be a powerful motivator, and when they realized the extent of my motivation they had nothing left to do but welcome me to the pack. Normally they do their own recruiting, but when someone comes along and tracks THEM down, it says something very special of that person. So a few weeks after that, Bruce Furlon officially disappeared form the military payroll. I went MIA on a very difficult intelligence gathering mission. And no one has questioned it since.

"It's a very lonely existence really," commented Bruce raising his eyebrows for emphasis as he sipped at his wine. "Going from place to place. Killing those who have warranted the attention of the Tal'Sheir. I've killed leaders, philosophers, proud young warriors, the old, the young, the beautiful. And never once, have I showed any more mercy then was shown my family."

"Can you answer me one question?" asked Lewis. The expression that Furlon turned on him was one that Lewis would associate more with someone who had just finished talking about a some mundane job, rather then one who had just finished talking about the brutal extermination of the enemy. "After all that you've told me, do you have any regrets about the choices you made?"

Furlon swished a mouthful of wine. "One. There is one thing that I regret above any other. It is something that I hope to remedy by going home. A starting over of sorts. And that is the ability to experience the love of a beautiful vixen in my life." He turned a half-smile to Lewis. "Didn't expect that one did you Lewis? I can see it by the fact that your jaw is needing to be picked off the floor."

"You might say that," he whuffed.

"Ah, ha ha. Now you shouldn't be that surprised. After all, I did say that you were my second pick, after that gorgeous arctic fox of a lieutenant you have on base here. And after 2 years of not seeing one of my own kind, I was more then eager. But alas, she was not in the mood." He turned his fierce glance on Lewis. "At least not for me."

"What do you mean by that?" inquired the suddenly nervous red vulpine.

"I mean that she sees something in you. She want's something from you that she believes no one else can provide. Yet you turned her down."

"And it was the stupidest thing that I could have done."

"No. That is where I think you're wrong. I think that you care about her just as much as she cares for you. It was a hard thing that you did, turning her down, am I right?" He saw Lewis nod confirmation. "Most of your fellow enlisteds would have jumped at the chance right?" Bruce saw the nod again. "Yet you turned her down. Why?"

"Because I didn't want us to get caught. I know what they do to fraternizes," he said in a pained tone. Somehow Lewis knew Furlon was setting him up for something, he just couldn't tell what.

"So you gave up your, and perhaps her, one chance for the emotional release you both needed, and perhaps the chance to experience that one emotion held above all others: Love."

Lewis sat bolt upright in his chair at this. How dare this total stranger come into his life, and presume to tell him what he thinks about Varnoff. About how he reacted to her, and she him. About how it could have been more. Lewis was about to let loose all of his 'pent-up frustrations' on this black fox sitting next to him, when he suddenly stopped.

'Damn it. He's right,' thought Lewis. 'Here is this person, someone personally responsible for the deaths of countless thousands... and he can see the situation more clearly then I can. Me, the one who is actually involved in the events.' Lewis gave a half-heated chuckle to himself. 'He's right. About everything...'

"Love is a grand thing to behold when it is true, Lewis." Rolling the stem of his wineglass between his hands, Furlon leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You should touch passion when it comes your way. It's rare enough as it is. Don't walk away when it calls you by name. There is no greater joy then to be loved. I had such an opportunity once, with a vixen back home."

"And that's why you're going back? In hopes of recovering what you've lost?" Furlon gave a sad nod. "So why did you tell me your past and all? Why break the veil of secrecy that is suppose to surround the Tal'Sheir by telling me? Aren't you afraid of me going around with what I now know?"

"I could never be afraid of what you might do, Lewis. I've read the files on you. You have no close friends, and you're a person of honor. I trust you not to spread around what I've said." He paused to sip at the wine. "I told it all to you, because I want you to trust me, as I do you. To believe what I have to tell you. To believe me, when I say that love is the single greatest thing that can happen to anyone and that it must never be passed up, no matter what the odds." Taking a long pull from the glass Furlon stared quietly out at the timeless desert terrain, the equally silent Lewis doing the same thing.

They sat like that for several minutes, in almost perfect silence save for the soft sound of the desert winds. A loud wine coming from the landing pads a few miles away, suddenly broke that silence. "What is that sound?" asked Furlon, straightening up in his seat, as he swiveled his ears to the side to better take in the increasingly loud wine coming in off the desert terrain.

"Sounds like the hanger queen. Guess they finally got her all repaired. Again," explained Lewis, also looking off in the direction of the offending sound. Both listened intently as the wine approached a fevered pitch.

"Sounds like they might actually have done it this time," commented Lewis with slightly positive expression on his face. No sooner had the words left his lips then there was an earth moving explosion, and the engines of the ship begin a rapid deceleration, protesting loudly all the way. "Then again, perhaps not," he concluded, taking a sip of his wine.

Furlon's reaction was immediate, and quite unexpected. He started to laugh. He continued this for some time, the laughter racking his body. Lewis turned from his drink to stare at the black fox sitting next to him, a puzzled expression on his furry face.

"That was a good one Lewis" said Furlon between bouts of laughter. "I've only rarely seen that good a case of timing." He gave off a few more guffaws. "That was good. Truly was," reiterated Furlon, as he toasted the rescue vehicles speeding to the scene of the accident.

"You know humor is one of the most important things we can have." He turned to see the look of incredulity that Lewis was shooting him. "I'm serious. Just because something is funny, doesn't mean that it's not important. Just because something is important, doesn't mean that it's not funny. One of the few things worth taking seriously is humor." Furlong gave a slight chuckle as he settled back in the chair. "I tell you it's helped me make it through the last 4 years. It is a marvelous ability, the ability to laugh. To look at what the world has presented us with... and just... laugh," said Bruce, giving a small rippling bout of laughter to accentuate the point. "Oh Lewis, isn't life one of the craziest things you've ever seen?"

Furlon sipped at his glass, while Lewis nervously did the same. "It's a strange ability, laughter," said Bruce, looking around the desert as he continued to lecture. "We see all the absurdly that is inherent in the universe, and what effect does it have on us? It amuses us, we find it funny, and we laugh at it. What do you suppose made us this way?" Turning back to his red friend, he tilted his head a little to the side. "I think that this ranks right up there with love, in terms of the oddities of sentient life. How about you?"

"I think you're crazy."

Furlon let lose a sputtering bout of laughter. "Perhaps you're right. Humor is a subjective thing. I don't think a person could remain sane after knowing what I know, or seeing what I've seen. Then again, we all have our own little bits of insanity."

Furlon swirled around the small amount of wine left at the bottom of the glass. "Do you remember when I asked you about purpose Lewis? How we all have one, and I wanted to know what yours was? Well, mine was vengeance. I had vowed to pay our enemy back 10 fold for what they did to our people on Raggesh 3. That's about 2.5 million of them, in exchange for the 250 000 of us. Sounds like a lot doesn't it?" The dark fox took a deep breath. "As of my last mission, I accomplished that goal. I personally took out the fusion reactor on their largest space station. Killed a quarter million of them, and their allies. Like that, gone," said Furlon, snapping his fingers to punctuate the ending.

Furlon opened his mouth as if to say more, but nothing came out. At least not for a few moments. "Lewis, you must trust me when I tell you that vengeance, while being a powerful motivator, ultimately leaves on without a sense of fulfillment," he said with a tortured expression. "The victory I set out to accomplish 4 years ago now seems very hallow indeed, compared to what I had to give up for it. Now that it's all over, I've found that I've lost my motivation, my direction. I've lost my purpose. I spent the last 4 years building up to this event, and now it seems so empty. That's why I'm going home, Lewis. To try and start over again."

Bruce downed the last bit of wine and turned to Lewis. "Tell me. Do you love her? I mean, really love her? Given the chance would you choose her to spend the rest of your life with? Her and no other?"

Lewis was slightly taken aback by the rapid firing questioning. It took him several moments to respond. "I don't know Bruce. I don't really know her all that well. But what I do know of her, I am attracted to. She appears to be all that I could want. Intelligent, good looking... and a romantic. She's all anyone could ask for." He paused to reflect on what he just said. "So given the chance, yes I would. Or at least try and make a go of it."

Lewis tightened up his free hand into a fist. "Stupid military and its regulations. If it only wasn't for that!" Lewis cracked a half-smile when he turned back to Furlon. "But I guess you wouldn't know much of that problem, what with being an officer in the Tal'Sheir and all that."

"Oh, we have our share of regs to follow as well, Lewis," said Furlon, his expression turning serious. "And unlike yours, if we don't obey them, we don't get thrown in the brig. No, if we don't follow our's, we will, in all likelihood, die."

Furlon cracked a smile of his own. "But rank does have its advantages. You want to make a go at Varnoff, Lewis? Well, I'm going to help you do just that. Regs say that you can't? Well to hell with the regs. Might get busted, you say? Not with me keeping an eye on your tail and flanks, you won't. I'm going to help you in this Lewis, and at no small risk to myself, either. Your CO, her CO, and my CO would probably get together to form a very POed head-hunting party if this goes sour." Yanking a small palmtop computer out of one of his large hip pockets, Furlon began to type furiously at the keys. "Perhaps I can get just a wee bit more excitement out of this life yet," he said with a crazy gleam in his yellow eyes.

"Furlon," inquired Lewis in a hushed voice after several moments. "Why are you doing this? I'm a nobody. I have no future, at least not in the military. I have no friends here, and only a few family and friends back on home world." Turning his full gaze on Furlon, he waited until the other fox broke his concentration on the palmtop and turned to meet his gaze. "Of all the people here, Furlon, why me?"

After thinking about this question for some seconds, Furlon answered it simply. "Because you remind me of myself at your age. And I wanted give you something that might make up for what I chose to give up all those years ago. To try and make up for the mistake I made in joining the Tal'Sheir, and in so doing gave up my one chance at true love." He gave one brief glance out at the desert. "I wanted to give someone the chance that I threw away. Because, you see, now I'm going back home. I'm going home, in an attempt to find something worth living for, instead something worth dying for."

As he watched Furlon walk down the steps, Lewis thought about all that he had been told. About the value of humor, purpose, and love, in a person's life. He stared off into the setting desert sun, fingering the gift that Bruce gave him, and thinking on the offer that was made before Furlon's departure.

****************************************************

'What in the name of the universe, am I doing here?' thought Lewis as he walked along the roads of the base. He had just left his apartment and started out on a trip he wasn't sure he wanted to be on. Before leaving, he had checked the central military data base back on Volrath for information on his newfound friend. He didn't know what scared him more. The fact that the information was there, or the fact that it was just as Furlon had described it. Everything from his enlistment, to his position at Central Intelligence, to his disappearance on a recon mission, it was all there. Lewis was even able to verify the wiping out of Furlon's family on Raggesh 3.

'I guess it's true,' thought the red fox. 'The best place to hide something is out in the open.'

Fingering the data chip nestled in his jacket pocket, Lewis ran through his options once more. He should simply discard the chip, forget all that he had been told, and go on like the whole incident this afternoon had never happened. Yet, somehow he couldn't seem to do it. The things Furlon had said made too much sense, touched him too deeply. So now he was heading towards an destination he wasn't sure of, to meet with a person he wasn't sure he knew at all.

'Furlon was right on one account though', thought Lewis as he walked up to the guest apartments. 'Life is the craziest thing I've ever seen.' Somehow this thought made him smile as he used his pass key to open the door.

"I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to show up, Lewis. My ship leaves in the hour, and I can't afford to miss it," said Bruce.

After a few minutes of final hesitation outside Furlon's door, Lewis had finally mustered up the courage to ring the buzzer. It was his final hurdle, and now that it was over, he felt very relieved. It was somehow quite liberating to know that there was no turning back. Here he was, sitting on the bed of some cramped quarters in the base apartments, preparing to realize a dream.

"I've disabled the security systems for the meantime." Furlon gave a satisfied chuckle. "They'll have to reformat the whole deal from scratch, and by the time that's done, you'll be finished as well. At least one would expect so," he concluded, adding a wink to make his point.

"Now, your pass card, if you please." Taking the offered card, Furlon passed the magnetic strip on the back through a slot on the top of his familiar palm-top computer. "There we go. You now have unlimited access to the entire base. At least until the security protocols are reinitialized," he added with a laugh.

"So that's it? We're ready to go and do it?" inquired the red fox to his midnight black counterpart.

Closing the lid of the computer and disconnecting the external leads, Furlon stood up and tossed his equipment into a carry-on backpack lying on the desk next to him. "Yup, all done. So let's get going, Lewis. I'm on a schedule."

As they walked down the poorly lit lanes towards the Officers Quarters, Lewis once again pondered the gift that Furlon had given him, before he had left Lewis that afternoon. The data chip contained what Furlon described as 3 wishes. The first was a program that would grant Lewis access to the Tal'Sheir's personal communication network. A network that could reach Bruce anywhere in the known galaxy. This was to be used very sparingly, and only in extreme circumstances. The second was several letters of recommendation, threat, and warning that Furlon had whipped up, and an anonymous mailer with which to send them. As Bruce had put it; 'A word form the Tal'Sheir goes a long way in officer country.' Last was the kicker to the whole package, though. It contained, in heavy encryption format, Furlon's personal "Purple Files" on every officer in this section of space. The Purple Files were essentially all the dirt that the Tal'Sheir had on these officers. It was to be used very sparingly, as leverage, in case there were any "repercussions" from what was planned for tonight.

"Well Lewis, you're about to take the plunge," said Furlon breaking the silence. Bruce put his arm around Lewis's shoulder. "So let me offer you some words of encouragement."

****************************************************

Hearing the buzzer sound for the third time, Lt. Varnoff took her fatigued eyes off of the computer screen. 'Damn, who could it be at this hour?' Moving her tired bones from the chair, where they had rested for the last few hours, she went to answer the door. "Alright, alright already, I'm coming."

Opening the door, she was shocked by what she found on the other side.

"Evening lieutenant. Mind if I come in? I was in the neighborhood, and thought I'd drop by." Lewis gave his wrist a little flick to reveal the wine bottle he was holding there. "I decided to take you up on that offer you made last week."

"Umm... sure Lewis. Just give me a moment to shut off my computer," said the still profoundly startled vixen. "Make yourself at home."

As Lewis watched the retreating form of the beautiful arctic fox, he recalled what Furlon had told him on the way there.

"If you fight, fight without fear. If you love, love without reservation. There is no greater joy in life, then to be loved. All other emotions and feelings pale in comparison to true love. However something such as this, does not come easy. In order to love, you must also be ready to risk. Risk heartache, risk failure, and even sometimes risk freedom. But I don't think that you'll have to worry about the last one, though. Friendship has its advantages..."

Looking out the 3rd story window, Lewis gave a tight smile to the blackness of the desert night. And just as he expected, he saw a piece of that blackness detach itself form the side of the building across the way and walk off into oblivion.

'Thanks for the advice my friend,' Lewis thought to the retreating black figure. 'I hope to repay you some day for all this help. Thanks...'

"So Lewis," asked Varnoff, as she returned to the room. "Whatever made you decide to take up my offer?"

The red fox at the window turned and gave his arctic counterpart a cryptic smile. "I had a very strange, and very wise, friend explain it to me..."

****************************************************

Staring back at the base lights, from the distant landing pad, the lone fox eyed all that he was leaving behind. Bruce Furlon, Dirk Rickkter, and the hundred other names of a person known in over fifty systems, stared back at the small spark of love that he helped create. As the loading bay door slowly closed, there passed over his face a look of triumph and satisfaction unlike any that had been there before. As the cargo bay door finally hissed shut, there slid down the cheek of the traveler, and over his tight smile, a single, solitary, tear of joy.

The End.

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