Chapter V.

"The public will believe anything, so long as it is not founded on
truth."
-Edith Sitwell

He nearly choked. "You want me to what?!"

"You heard me," Geheivia frowned.

"You can't honestly expect me to be able to live with those furballs,
let alone gain their trust!" he spluttered. "They hate me! They'd
probably shoot me on sight!"

The god snorted. "They're not the murderous ones." She paused. "But
that's irrelevant anyway?"

"Oh yes?" he asked sarcastically. "How?"

"They won't know it's you."

He gave a short, quarter of a laugh. "Really? So you mean you're
going to strike them deaf and stupid? You hardly need me in that case."

She gave him a look.

He shook his head and rolled his eyes. The woman obviously didn't
know what she was talking about. He'd have to explain it to her. He
took a breath and began slowly. "Look, hair or not I don't look THAT
much different. They'd recognize me and throw me in jail. And if my
appearance didn't give me away, I don't have the worlds most pleasant
OR unremarkable voice now do I?"

Geheivia, for some reason, smirked. What did she think was so funny?
It wasn't his fault he had a nasal voice.

"Haven't you ever noticed that people rarely see more than they want
to? I assure you that as long as you make an effort to keep your
identity concealed it will stay as such. Though, you'll still need to
come up with a decent story since they don't really trust Overlanders,
especially short, skinny, ratty, ill-tempered looking ones."

"Oh, thanks," he said nastily.

"See? But I'm sure you'll have no trouble. You're manipulative, so
manipulate." She grinned chesirely. "Now, any more questions?"

"Yes, how exactly am I supposed to get into their little hidey-hole
in the first place?"

"One of the freedom fighters is on a late night stroll, they'll be
along in a few minutes. Better get your story ready. Anything else?"

"Just one, supposing I do manage to get myself into their good graces
what do I do then?"

"Ah," she smiled, "we'll talk about that later." And with that she
disappeared. There was no sound, no smoke, she was simply not there any
more.

Snively blinked. "Hey! Hey! Get back here! I'm not done yet!" he
stamped his foot angrily. It was to no avail though, she didn't
return.

He pouted and leaned against a tree. What was he supposed to do now?
Come up with a plan, obviously, but what story would make the furries
except him into their midst? He knew from intelligence sources that
they'd shipped those Overlanders taken from Robotropolis to the Hidden
City. He slumped back, crossing his arms. First thing was first, he
was going to have to think of something to call himself. He felt
relatively sure that using 'Snively' would tip them off as to who he
was no matter how much godly voodoo Geheivia did.

His given name was completely out of the question. It was like every
other scar his father had given him. Ugly and pathetic as his other
title had been it served to cover that wound, much like an eye patch
or a prosthetic limb. One that had been worn so long the barer ceased
to notice it. But now he had to change it, to find a new mask to
disguise himself with. What could he call himself? He was terrible at
naming things. Somehow he doubted that any old name would suffice, he
needed something that would lend itself to trust. Something that
inspired confidence in him while not being unduly pretentious.
Something non-threatening. There were so many factors to consider.

Ideally he would have wanted a day or so to think about it, and
another week to come up with a convincing cover story. He knew he
wasn't going to get it though, Geheivia had said he had 'a few minutes'.
He wondered exactly how much of that he had left. Damn imprecise woman!

He quickly ran through all the names he knew. Erik, Ashton, Matt,
Terran, Claude, Cody, Patrick, Justin, Alexander, Clark, Pete, Harry,
Ron, Herman, Gary. He looked around nervously to see if anyone was
coming. It didn't look like it. Logan, Scott, Remy, Bobby, Todd, Lance,
Freddy. No, no, no. All those were TOO common, he needed something a
bit more individual. He tried to think of other names he had heard. Krin,
Weiland, Trulion, Ashley (strangely enough a boy's name), Reno, Tseng,
Locke, Cecil, Edgar, Squall, Darren. He stopped, smiled. How about
Davin? Yes, that sounded right. Now the only problem would be
remembering to answer to it.

He ran a hand through his hair, actually quite pleased with the name,
and with himself. He hardly even noticed the strange yellow streak
coming towards him, looking up just in time to be knocked over by the
thing.

"Oh oh! I'm soooooooo sorry!" the thing professed.

"Ah, Gh!" Snively complained, having had his head knocked against the
ground and thus having some trouble seeing clearly and forming words.
He attempted to push the yellow form off of him.

"Ooops, sorry again," the thing got up and dusted itself off. the it
leaned down. "Do you need some help?"

He felt someone grab his wrist and pull him to his feet. He managed
to steady himself and keep from toppling to the ground again. He shook
his head and blinked several times to clear his vision. Blurred masses
sharpened and came into focus. First there were two young, yellow
-furred, mammalian girls staring at himm. He blinked once more and they
coalesced into one.

"Are you alright?" she asked concernedly.

"Ng, n- yes, yes, just fine." He realized that whoever this klutz was
she was most likely the one Geheivia had been talking about. Now, how
to stop her from just walking away?

She furrowed her brow. "Are you sure?"

He rubbed the back of his painfully throbbing head delicately, and
felt something wet, it stung. He knew that feeling. One look at his
red stained fingers confirmed it. Blood. He grimaced. "No, evidently
I'm not sure." He held his hand out.

"Oh my god, you're bleeding," she squeaked, putting her hands in
front of her face protectively, as though his blood frightened her. "I
hurt you."

He resisted the urge to make a sarcastic remark, forcibly biting his
lip in this effort.

"Is there anything I can do to help? I didn't mean to, I mean, I have
trouble controlling it sometimes and , and..." she sniffed, nearly
coming to tears.

He sighed, the blood was beginning to matt his hair. "Do you have any
bandages?" he asked, exasperated. Was this the way that damned god
women had meant things to play out?

She blinked. The thought of actually doing anything about the wound
having seemingly not occurred to her. "...Um, bandages? No not with me."
She thought a minute. "But I can take you to Doctor Quack."

He pursed his lips, that man's name just inspired SO much
confidence in his medical abilities. Snively remembered him well from
the whole 'Ultimate Nullifier' debacle. But going to see him would get
him into Knothole, wouldn't it.

"Yes," he replied finally. "Yes, that sounds like a good idea. I'm
sure he can help me."

"Um, okay. Can you, walk? Do you need help?" she asked unsurely.

"It's a head wound, my dear," he said patronizingly, "not a broken
leg."

"Ah, oh." she stood there a moment.

"The doctor..." he prompted.

"Oh, right! C'mon," she gave the universal 'follow me' gesture and
started walking.

He trailed after her, the girl's vibrant yellow fur easily visible
in the dim light.

"My name's Mina," she said after a few minute's silence.

"Charmed, I'm sure," he replied in a tone whose irony was lost on the
girl.

"What's your name?"

He started to speak, but was struck by a brilliant inspiration, and
he had to quickly suppress a grin. He would FAKE AMNESIA! It was
perfect! He wouldn't have to come up with a cover story, and the girl,
Mina, would convince them to let him stay in Knothole until he
recovered his memory out of a sense of responsibility. He could have
laughed out loud. He was a genius.

"It's, Davin," he said uncertainly, "I...think."

She stopped and turned to face him. "You think?"

He nodded. "I can't quite remember. I can't really remember anything
at all since before you helped me up."

Mina reeled. "Oh no! You must have lost you memory when I knocked you
down!"

"You...knocked me down?" he blinked innocently, or, as innocently
as he could manage.

"You really don't remember? Not anything? I can't believe it! I feel
absolutely terrible!" she wailed.

He winced at the high pitched noise and patted her on the shoulder,
more to make her stop yelling than anything else. "It's alright, Miss
Mina," he said with very sincere false sincerity, "I'm sure your doctor
will be able to help me."

She sniffed and rubbed her eyes. "I hope so, I'd never be able to
live with myself otherwise."

'Davin' snorted quietly. "How much farther is it to this doctor would
you say?"

"Oh, just- it's right here actually," she reached up and pulled on
the branch of a particularly thick tree. A hatch in its trunk swung
open. "Knothole's right through here."

To be continued...

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