Ch. 2

“You know, Wolfort,” Eric said as the patrol car parked, “It still bugs me that the sign for one of the most important and well-known buildings in Zootopia just says Police.” They both exited the car. Wolfort walked in tandem with him to the entrance. “I got used to it after some time,” he replied. “We don’t have the money to do anything about it, even taking it down.” Eric gave him a sour look. “That’s not what I meant, Wolfort.”

The bustle of the lobby made for a nearly claustrophobic feeling for everyone. Mammals, ranging from criminals to civilians, to even some news reporters and business folk, scurried around, hairsbreadth away from each other. The reporters buzzed around some security, asking about an interview with Judy Hopps. Mammals chatted about her heroics and solving the case. Business folks left bets on each other to see who’s letter she would read first. Criminals and some civilians mocked the cops, since the news obtained leaks that showed the police not assisting her on the case. Eric shook his head. “How would we ever manage to secure our lobby with this kind of crowd?,” he complained to himself. He wormed and wove his way through the crowd, getting some upset stares, but otherwise ignored. Eric went down the right hallway, past the meeting and briefing room, and into the cubicles. His was toward the back: a shaded part of the room, even in the broad daylight.

Eric activated his computer and was granted access. On his home screen, files grouped in a seemingly random order, with most following standard protocol. His background picture involved an overhead shot of the city. Some oddly colored lines fragmented the entire city. Strange symbols centered each fragment, with their circular borders to match the color of the fragment borderlines.

Before more could be noted about the symbols, Eric clicked the symbols, which, like a sponge, absorbed the files randomly, as if the symbol themselves were folders. He clicked on one symbol in the very center of the entire city: a ZPD badge, shrunk to fit with the overall picture. Using some special key combinations, he kept one file from reabsorption: “Link to Mammal database.”

Eric accessed the database and began searching for “Maxwell” and “Savannah Central.” The note below the search bar responded, “Thirty results were found.” He slightly grinned as he dug in and hunted through the files.

“Calling timber yet?,” joked a tiger officer that approached Eric. Unstartled, he kept searching. “If I did, then you would be seeing stars, Delgato. No, but I don’t think he’s on record,” Eric responded.

“Why do you say that? Did you even look at all of these results?”

“None match the description given. Cub’s careful. But he doesn’t know that I’m on the hunt.”

“Lumbar, two things. One: Stop saying ‘on the hunt.’ We’re not in the Stone Age anymore. Two: What do you mean ‘he doesn’t know you’re after him’? He likely knows that.”

Eric grinned at Delgato. Fear masked his face, taken aback by the expression. Eric retrieved his sorted but discarded gear and hustled out. Delgato chased after him, notifying Wolfort that they were moving out.