Kelly crouched silently in the lush green underbrush, narrowing her eyes against the afternoon sun.  Everything here was lush, it seemed.  She had once ventured into a city close by, and even there tropical greenery seemed to find its way into every possible place.  There were numerous plants around here with leaves as wide as dinner plates.  And it was a good thing.  They were perfect hiding places.
       Where exactly here was, Kelly had yet to discover.  One thing was certain: it was far, far away from her home.  Not far away from her someone was shuffling a newspaper, the front page of it making her blink in confusion.  “Angel Island Post” was its title.  On the front page was a strange feature about “Echidnapolis,” a name Kelly had never seen in her life.
       Kelly had yet to see who was behind the paper.  But one or two faces were familiar nearby.  She had been following them for a day and a half now, lured by their mention of some kind of celebration.  Where there were celebrations, there was sure to be food—something Kelly had lacked for nearly three days now.  She felt like a beggar.
       They were anthropomorphic, that much was certain.  The two Kelly had been following were a chamelion and an armadillo.  But they were bright colored, as if dreamed up by a child.  She wondered how they could possibly manage to dye themselves completely.  The chameleon was lavender, the armadillo bright red and yellow.  Of all colors, Kelly thought.  She’d heard of furred anthros dyeing their fur strange colors, but skin?  And the leathery shell of an armadillo?
       As if these two were not strange enough, there were the handfuls of cherry-red-colored anthros which were now trickling in to join the event.  Kelly had seen plenty of them, especially when she had ventured into part of the huge nearby city.  All of them looked the same, as if a race all their own.  But…they were red!  What sort of creatures…?
       Kelly’s thoughts were brought to a sudden halt by a loud hum that sent chills down her spine.  Joining the two she had been following, an enormous bee lighted.  Kelly’s jaw dropped, a soft gasp gripping her.  The bee was all of two feet tall, and now it was talking.
       “Heya, Espio,” it was saying, its voice high-pitched and cheery.  The chameleon stood to greet the bee in return, his low, quiet voice much in contrast to that of the bee.  “Charmy!” exclaimed the armadillo in greeting.  Nobody seemed to think it strange that they were talking to a two-foot-tall bee.
       Kelly, meanwhile, had a look of utter horror on her face.  She had faced many a danger in her life, including the ravages of a great war and a near-death at the hands of Alexander Vasilis.  But nothing, nothing made her skin crawl like bees.  She couldn’t keep her eyes off that stinger.  It must have been at least 6” long altogether.  A tiny squeak of terror escaped her throat.  And couldn’t bees smell fear?
       By now, a tall, nearly lime-green crocodile, whom the other three called Vector, had joined the group.  In a loud, gravelly voice, he was presently saying something about “old times.”  Then he mentioned someone they called “Knux.”  Kelly had heard the name many times on the lips of the other two.
       “When’s he coming?” the croc asked.  Espio shrugged.  “You know him,” he said, nonchalant.  “For all we know he could already be here, much as he tends to fade into the background.”  The croc nodded knowingly.  “…never did like to announce his presence,” Kelly could hear him mutter.
       She now had her eyes on the bee again…and that atrocious stinger.  One of her ears swiveled back in slight disgust.  She scarcely noticed as Espio and Mighty pulled Vector aside.  Charmy was now being joined by another bee, much to Kelly’s dismay.  It was a girl.  If Kelly wasn’t mistaken, Charmy was blushing as he spoke with her.  She pointed with her thumb behind her, smiling—apparently inviting him to join her and go elsewhere.  He blushed further, shuffling his shoes on the ground.  It would've been cute if some normal person had done it.  Kelly swallowed hard as the two took flight, watching them until they were far enough away that she could finally heave a deep sigh of relief.
       She glanced again at the other three.  Their voices were hushed now.  Vector’s muscular arms were crossed over his chest, Espio leaning against a tree as he spoke with him.  Mighty listened.  They appeared fairly serious.  She heard snippets about a hover craft that they were trying to identify.
       Suddenly the crocodile snapped his fingers.  “That’s Nack’s new hovercraft,” he exclaimed.  “I knew I recognized that thing.  Forget his little pet name for it, though.”  He laughed, shaking his head.  The armadillo spoke up.  Kelly could only hear bits and pieces now of what they were saying, and was lucky to hear all of Mighty’s next question.
       “What’s he doing here?” he asked.  A note of disgust seemed hidden in his voice.
       The crocodile shrugged.
       Espio looked about, making Kelly nervous.  It almost appeared he’d looked right at her.
       “…following us…” she could overhear.  “…doing anything…just, well…Can’t figure it out….”
       “…she…you?”  That was all she could hear of Vector’s question.  But Espio was looking in her direction again, and this time the others glanced nervously as well.  They were onto her.  Kelly’s ears flattened against her head.  The three had looked away already, pretending not to notice anything at all.  But she knew she would have to back off.
       Upon first arrival in this strange place, she worried that these people would be on Donovan’s side: Loyalists to that traitor who had overthrown her "Uncle Winnie".  Now she didn’t know what to expect.  Nobody seemed to know anything at all of Donovan.  But they looked worried, as if some silent fear loomed in the heart of every person here.  Their faces reminded her of those she’d seen in villages that secretly harbored Insurrectionists, those loyal to King Winthrop and thus outlawed.  Perhaps their feelings were similar.  At any rate, she knew it would be asking for trouble to keep following these two around.
       Several minutes passed.  Kelly waited until a sense of calm settled over the group.  Slowly then she backed out from where she had been peering through the bushes and slipped away.  The festivities were beginning.  More and more of those cherry-red, dreadlocked creatures were gathering, laughing, talking.  It was an outdoor event, with booths set up here and there selling various wares and foods that reflected a rich sort of culture.  Most brought their own food, however.  In fact, not far away, a family was getting out quite a lot of goodies.  They looked well off, Kelly thought.  And they were removed somewhat from the crowd.  It wouldn’t kill them to lose some of that meal.  She moved closer, slowly, under the cover of the exotic plants, then crouched behind another bush.  Her eyes fixed intently on the family.  And she waited.
       “A little hungry, are we?”
       Kelly yipped and fell back awkwardly.  It was a chipper, Aussie voice.  She whirled around with wide eyes.
       Standing there was a short, muscular anthro, his fur a light lavender.  He wore rugged-looking clothing—gloves, a hat, a belt, and boots—and a wide, toothy grin.  That grin was all Kelly could see of his face, for his hat cast a dark shadow over his eyes.  He reached out a hand toward her, offering to help her up.  “Sneaky little sheila you are, following innocent folks just to snatch up their food.”  But he grinned despite his words.  Kelly brushed herself off lightly.  “I could say the same about you and sneakiness,” she replied, “considering how much you seem to know about me.”  The Aussie chuckled lowly—rather handsomely, Kelly thought—and again extended his hand, this time for a handshake.
       “Name’s Nack,” he smiled.  “Nack the Weasel.”
       “I’m Kelly Bancroft.”
       The weasel cocked his head, though still maintaining an air of politeness.  “Err, Bancroft you say?  Not Kelly the Fox or Coyote or whatnot?”  He must have sensed that she was clueless, because he then attempted to brush it off with a grunted, “Must not be from around here.”
       Kelly half-laughed awkwardly.  “I’m not.  In fact, uh…” She paused, knowing how crazy this would sound.  One ear swiveling back, she said softly, “Could you, er…maybe tell me…where ‘these parts’ are?”
       The weasel adjusted his hat, and now she could see his eyes.  They were a strange, murky purple-grey.  He was blinking in surprise.  “Yeh lost?” he asked, that charming spring still in his voice.
       Kelly bit her lip.  “You could say that,” she said.
       “Well, uh…you know that’s Echidnapolis, right?”  He pointed a gloved finger toward the city.
       Kelly was feeling more embarrassed by the second.  “No.”
       “No?”  Nack looked genuinely surprised now.  “Well…” He chuckled somewhat, rubbing the back of his head.  “You know you’re on the Floating Island for sure, right?  Pretty hard not to know th—”  But he fell silent.  Kelly was shaking her head.  “What do you know?” he then asked.
       Kelly sighed, exasperated.  “I know I’m nowhere near the Great United Provinces, and certainly not NeoAmerica.”
       “Near the what-what?”
       “Oh, c’mon—the G.U.P.?  What is this, a third world country?  Nobody seems to know anything about Henry Donovan or the Global War, or…” Kelly’s ears drooped.  Nack was as lost as a toddler in an amusement park.  “Apparently I’m not on…Earth?” she added, only half-joking.  She didn’t think the weasel’s eyes could get any wider, but they did now.
       “Earth? Planet Earth?”  At least he had heard of it.
       Kelly nodded slowly.
       “Whoa, there, little sheila—you’re on Mobius.”
       “Mobius?”
       “Never heard of it?”
       “No!” Kelly was flabbergasted.
       The weasel scratched his chin slowly and muttered, “Must not think much of us, if they don’t even talk about us over there.  So…you’re from earth.”  He sighed.  “How’d you get here?”
       “I…I don’t know.”  Kelly thought of her home, and a deep fear and sadness washed over her.  “The last thing I remember…”  She stopped, as if catching herself.  Charming as this weasel may have seemed, she knew better than to dare expose her powers to him.  Most likely, it was that very power that somehow took her here.  She wondered briefly where Vasilis might have gone…or if he even survived.  No.  It would be too easy if he hadn’t.
       The weasel was adjusting his hat again, peering at Kelly.  Quickly she made up something.  “I’m just trying to remember…” She let her voice trail off, trying to appear lost in her thoughts.  “That’s the thing,” she said.  “I can’t remember.”
       If Nack saw through her, he certainly wasn’t letting on.  Again a handsome grin graced his lips.  “Well then,” he said cheerily, “we’ll just have to get you on your lovely vixen feet, won’t we?”
       “What do you mean?”
       “By the looks of it, you ain’t got yeself a place to stay, am I right?”  Kelly avoided his eyes as he added, “Not if you’re snatchin’ up table scraps.”  He chuckled deeply, then pointed with his thumb behind him.  “Got my hover craft over there,” he said.  “I’m doin’ a bit of travellin’ myself.  If yeh like, you’re welcome to join me for lunch in the city.”
       Normally Kelly wouldn’t dream of taking up such an offer.  She knew it was risky—especially after what she had overheard among the others just minutes ago.  From the looks on their faces, Nack the Weasel was not known for pleasant reasons.  But she also knew she had little to lose.  She could perhaps take on this weasel, rugged as he looked, with her powers to assist her.  At least this way she would get an honest meal.
       Sure enough, Kelly followed Nack to a small bar for a much-appreciated lunch.  The place was in downtown Echidnapolis, rather shady in appearance both inside and out.  In one corner, several men played a card game of some sort, smoking cigars, their faces shadowed by their hats.  A few tables over, two of the red creatures—echidnas, Nack had told Kelly—negotiated something, one of them gesturing casually with a folding knife he had been sharpening.  Nack looked to be perfectly at home.  “Mind if I smoke?” he asked, drawing a pack of cigarettes from a pocket in his vest.  Kelly shook her head, and soon smoke was wafting slowly upward into the dim light that hung over their table.
       Nack explained to Kelly that he had to keep a low profile in areas like these.  A war was being waged, he said, and he worked for a side that was none too popular with most—whatever side paid him best.  He had been watching her, and for a reason.  “Y’see,” he said, now leaning forward, cigarette between his index and middle finger, “I told yeh I worked for that Dr. Robotnik bloke once in a while?”
       Kelly nodded.
       “Well, he’s a bit interested in yeh, mate.  Seems you’ve got some…abilities, shall we say…and round ‘ere, that’s risky.  A girl could get ‘erself kidnapped…lotta blokes thirsty for power, especially considering this war.”
       “This guy knows about me, then?”  Kelly narrowed her eyes.  “How?”
       “It’s obvious, luv.  Of all places for you to be, the Floating Island might be the worst.  See, they got gems…emeralds…” The weasel was leaning in closer now, his voice hushed.  “…that keep this thing flyin’.  So they gotta keep a close eye on energy signatures and such.”  A devious grin crept on his face and he added with a wink, “Believe me, I would know.”  He lifted the cigarette to his lips and inhaled slowly before continuing.  “So what with all this fancy equipment, it didn’t take ‘em long to get a load of you.”
       Kelly sighed. Great, she thought.
       “Now,” Nack continued, all business, “fortunately for you, these echidnas are both cocky and stupid.  Most likely all they been doin’ is starin’ at monitors while they drink their coffee, hardly givin’ a rat’s ass about yeh except to acknowledge that you’re here.  And, again to your advantage...” His eyes gleamed handsomely.  “…I’m the one who’s been sent out to find yeh.”  He again lifted the cigarette and took a long, slow drag.
       Kelly quirked a brow, her tail twitching behind her.  “And why is this lucky?”
       A slow stream of smoke floated from the weasel’s lips.  He peered darkly at her from beneath the shadow of his hat.  Then he leaned back, propping his boots on the table.  “Because,” he replied, and his voice sounded sly, “Robotnik’s got a mind to harbor you, if you’re willin’.  Kinda keep yeh safe and whatnot.”
       Kelly said nothing, watching Nack calmly.  She still could not see his eyes, but it appeared he was doing the same.  Finally, a slight grin crept on his face.  “Think it over, Miss Bancroft,” he said smoothly, gesturing with his cigarette, wisps of smoke trailing behind.  “But a…representative, so to speak, would like to get with you as soon as you can.  Wants to answer any questions yeh got, explain details, all that.”
       Kelly’s ear flicked.  “As soon as I can, huh?” she said.
       Nack nodded.
       “Got a communicator I can use?”