The Next Life Over - Part Three by Roland Lowery

The following short story is based on characters created and/or copyrighted by SEGA! Enterprises, DiC Productions, Archie Comic Publishers, Fleetway Comic Publishers, and the Taki Corporation. All other characters were created and copyrighted by Roland Lowery.

The author gives full permission to distribute this work freely, as long as no alterations are made and the exchange of monetary units is not involved. Any questions, comments, suggestions, or complaints should be sent to esn1g@earthlink.net. Thank you.

In history as in human life, regret does not bring back a lost moment
and a thousand years will not recover something lost in a single hour.
-Stefan Zweig

The Next Life Over - Part Three

by Roland Lowery

- 3233 AD -

"So, what did the oracle have t'say to ya?"

Nack The Weasel frowned slightly at the question. "Why do ya wanna know?" he asked.

The Rough Rider's driver spared him a longsuffering glance before turning her attention back to the terrain before them. "C'mon," she said. "It's a hunk of rock that tells the future! Who wouldn't want to know what it said?"

"Well, take a guy who's gonna die just five minutes after talkin' to the oracle, no matter what," Nack replied. "I'm pretty sure he wouldn't be too happy with the news, neh?"

"Jeez, Da," she said, swatting at his shoulder playfully. "Just spill it already!"

"Okay, okay," said Nack as he shifted up in his seat. "The Opal Oracle, in all its magnificent wisdom and clarity of vision, said that I'm a swell guy with a beautiful daughter, and that I shouldn't buy any stock in Ivo-brand robotics. Happy?"

"And that's it?"

The weasel shrugged. "Except for the 'swell guy' part, yah," he said. "It actually used a much more colorful metaphor. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna catch some shuteye before we hit Knothole."

"Ah, keep your secrets then, old man," she said, smiling ruefully as he pulled his hat down over his eyes. "I still love ya, even if you are a complete ass."

"I love you, too, kiddo," he said, his voice muffled by the fabric of his hat, "even though I am a complete ass. G'night."

"G'night."

Life was good. Now more than ever, Nack could see that.

It had been almost ten years since the day he had thought he had lost everything in a firey explosion; ten years since he'd found his true purpose in life in the form of his daughter, Bunnie Elizabeth Weasel. During that time, he'd watched her grow from a precocious and fiercely irrepressible six year old to the talented and dazzlingly beautiful fifteen year old sitting in the driver's seat beside him. Though he had resisted doing so at first, he had eventually begun to teach her the craft of bounty hunting, a profession that she took to with amazing adroitness. Nack new quite well that she was probably already his equal in many ways, and that by the time he was ready to retire, she'd have surpassed the highest skill levels he had achieved in his prime.

The Rough Rider was a testament to her abilities, in fact. It had been the spoils of her very first hunt, given entirely over to her as a gift from Nack for doing a spectacular job. Though it had been a good amount of trouble to restore completely, Liz had thrown herself completely into the task and now the massive all-terrain vehicle thrummed with barely contained power. All of the technical knowledge that Nack had imparted to her as well as a number of things she had come up with on her own had gone into the machine, souping it up well beyond even the wildest expectations of its original designers.

The Rider now served as Nack and Liz's primary form of travel as well as their home. The back sections of the grav-plated vehicle came complete with living quarters far more lush than any of the camping sites they had been living in beforehand. There was also a small cargo bay which held Nack's old hovercycle. Though Nack still took the bike out for a spin every once in a while, it mostly just sat in the back, collecting dust during the time he wasn't tinkering with it or performing maintenance checks.

Over the years since Liz had joined Nack in the hunt, they had been travelling across the major continental mass of Mobius, taking on odd jobs here and there, mostly in trade for food and various other supplies they needed. Usually their employers were people trying to live it out on their own, willing to trade some of their hoard for a trinket or help finding someone they had lost touch with after Robotnik's coup. Only twice had they tried working for Dr. Robotnik himself, much to their detriment. Working for him was simply bad business all around.

On very rare occaision, they would work for a Freedom Fighter cell. They actively tried to avoid doing so, not wanting to get too involved in the war going on between them and the not-so-good doctor, but sometimes the promised payment made it well worth their while. Because it didn't happen often, it was very odd that they were going from one such job - finding the Opal Oracle for an FF leader in the Northern Arafan Territories - to yet another in Knothole Village.

Liz hadn't commented on it, since she implicitly trusted her father for one thing. For another, both of them always enjoyed going to Knothole. Even during times when they weren't working with the FF there, they had stopped in for short visits, having made good friends with many of the people there.

In fact, one of those friends was running alongside the Rider when Nack awoke and pushed his hat back up on his head. He smiled and waved through the window at the runner, who waved back before blasting forward in a combination of blue blur and brown dust clouds. They were still on the Great Plains, a good bit away from the Great Forest yet, but Nack felt reassured that their coming would already be reported to the nearest FF guard post within the next few seconds.

Nack was lucky to have all these friends and, most importantly, a daughter that loved him. Yes, life was good, and it was only going to get better as time went on.

"Weasel."

"Hedgehog."

Nack and Sonic T. Hedgehog, self proclaimed Fastest Thing Alive, stared each other down solemnly as they stood underneath a guard post deep in the Great Forest. Tension crackled through the air as each Mobian shifted slowly from one foot to the other in preperation. They both reached back, preparing to strike . . .

. . . and slammed their palms together, shaking hands vigorously.

"How the hell's it goin', Blue-boy?" Nack asked, flashing his over-sized fang in a wide grin.

"Not too bad, Nackster!" Sonic replied as he gave the bounty hunter's shoulder a friendly slap. "It just the same ol', same ol', y'know?"

Nack nodded and then turned back to the Rider. "Same here, man," he said as he helped Liz down from the ATV's side door. Sonic immediately stepped over to the young rabbit, knelt down on one knee, took her hand, and kissed it.

"Enchanting to see ya, Miss Weasel," he said with a slight bow and flourish.

"Well, now," Liz said, blushing sligtly under her fur, "a lady might just get t'likin' this! Ol' Sally Girl musta been teaching you some manners since we were here last, neh?"

Sonic winked at her and wagged a finger in the air. "She's been tryin', Liz," he said, "but the main hedgehog can only put on so much fake charm before the real charm just hasta come shinin' through!"

"Oh, brother!" the rabbit said, rolling her eyes in mock sarcasm.

"Speaking of the Sal Gal," Nack interjected, "got any idea where she'd be? We're supposed to meet her about some mission she wants to hire us on for."

Sonic did a half-turn and patted his shoulder. "Sal's hut just happens to be the next stop on the ol' Hedgehog Express. Care to hop on? Tickets are half-price today for all cranky old men and their charmin' daughters!"

"Think we could trade adjectives?" Nack asked Liz, who giggled as they grabbed onto Sonic's shoulders and the world bled into a sea of green and brown blurs. One breathtaking burst of superspeed later, and they were standing before the small hut belonging to Princess Sally Alicia Acorn, rightful heir to the throne of the Acorn Kingdom and leader of the Knothole Freedom Fighters.

"Thanks for the ride, shugah," Liz said after she and her father had time to catch their breath. She reached out and pinched Sonic's cheek playfully.

"Aw, shucks, tweren't nuthin'," Sonic said in a goofy voice. "Now if guys'll excuse me, I gotta go make sure your hut is all ready to go and the Rider gets put under some camo. Gotta juice!"

With a burst of speed and wind that left the bounty hunters' fur ruffled, he was gone again. Liz carefully smoothed her hair down as they climbed the few steps up to the door of the hut, then tried to smooth Nack's down as he knocked. Her attempts were in vain, however, as he purposefully tried to shift away and the fur she did manage to push down simply jumped back up again.

"When was the last time you combed your fur, old man?" she asked as a soft voice from inside the hut called for them to come in.

"What month is it?" Nack asked, pushing the door open and snickering.

While the outside of Sally's hut was as plain and unadorned as the rest of the buildings in Knothole Village, the inside was anything but typical. Nack had always thought that the methodical and linear-thinking that Sally typically displayed would have led to her having an entirely clean, neat, and organized domicile. Much to his surprise the first time he and Liz had been invited in a year or two before, however, the entire place was in complete disarray.

Almost every single bit of the hut's walls were covered in computer printouts, maps, charts, surveillance photos, and hundreds of other pieces of hard copy, making it appear as if Sally thought of the world as her personal bulliten board. The floor was piled up here and there with plastiboard boxes containing only the Walkers knew what. Every available flat surface that was not littered with half-eaten foodpaks and empty wrapers had either stacks of printouts or various computer parts and electronics equipment.

Nack liked it. Being in Sally's hut often reminded him of being back in MobiaNet with his old surrogate family, the Hacker-Dackers. Sometimes during their infrequent visits to Knothole, he and Liz would sit in the hut with Sally and watch her work on her computers, diagrams, and mission plans, much like he used to sit and watch one of the dackers work on the hundreds of projects they had going at any given time.

"Liz!" Sally exclaimed when the two of them stepped inside. She immediately stood up, dropping a micro-motherboard she had been soldering and stepping out from around her worktable. Her metal legs thumped on the wooden floor as she walked towards them.

"How's it goin', Sally Girl?" Liz asked, running over to embrace her friend.

Nack smiled as the two young women talked. One of the reasons he liked coming to Knothole every once in a while was the fast friendship that Liz and Sally had struck up. The two of them had bonded almost from their first meeting, and the relationship had grown by leaps and bounds ever since. Nack was happy to see his daughter making friends, especially ones of such high caliber as the Princess.

"Nack, it's good to see you," Sally said warmly as she stepped over to hug him as well. One robotic hand and one hand of flesh and bone wrapped around his back and squeezed.

"You too, Your Highness," he said. "I hope we're not interrupting anything . . . "

"No, no, not at all," Sally reassured him. She walked back over to the part she had been working on and set it in a pile off to the side, apparently using some type of sorting method among the mess that only she could comprehend. "It's just a little project I've been fiddling with to keep off the tension from our upcoming mission."

"Right, right," said Nack. "Speaking of which . . . your message to us said this wasn't exactly to be just a courtesy call, neh?"

Sally nodded. "Direct and to the point as always, Mr. Weasel," she said. "We do, in fact, have a little job to do in Robotropolis tomorrow, and we'd like to hire on the two of you to help us."

"Chances of success?" Liz asked.

"Unknown at this time, unfortunately," Sally replied. "Perhaps I should just detail the situation and let you decide on your own. A week ago, sensors we planted in Robotropolis began to pick up an anomolous energy signature coming from the old Western Commercial Center."

"The WWC?" Liz mused. "That's . . . what? A factory center now, isn't it?"

"For the most part, yes," Sally confirmed. "There are currently one StealthBot and four SWATbot factories operating there, as well as a small 'bot-repair outlet and workerbot storage facility. There's also a large warehouse, however, supposedly unconverted by Robotnik."

Nack snapped his fingers. "The old Gunderson warehouse," he said. "Huh. I used to have a garage in the sewers underneath it. Wonder if it's still there . . . "

Sally raised her eyebrows slightly and said, "If it is, that could be a great help to us. In any case, the AES came from inside the warehouse. We're not entirely sure what could be causing it . . . it doesn't conform to any standard fusion or electrical emissions."

"Radiation levels?"

"Well within tolerable limits," Sally shrugged. "You'd be more likely to catch rad-poisoning from listening to your radio than standing next to whatever this is. Really, besides the non-conformity, there's nothing too spectacular about this AES."

"It could be a trap," said Liz.

"Anything could be a trap," Nack said, stroking his chin. "But if the FF doesn't do anything and it's the real deal, then-"

"-they'd be just as screwed as if they had gone in and it was a trap," she finished for him. "I know, Da. Just running the more obvious options first."

"We've decided to go in anyway, in any case," the Princess said. "If it's really something Robotnik's working on, we'll get rid of it. If it's nothing, we come back, no problem. If it's a trap, we deal with it. It's because of the high degree of uncertainty in this situation, however, that led to us calling the two of you in. You'll be paid in full regardless of the mission's outcome."

Father and daughter glanced at each other. Nack shrugged and waved two fingers in the air, giving Liz leave to make the call. "How much?" she asked.

Sally named a figure in kilograms of food. Liz quoted a higher number of kilograms and added a request for several different pieces of equipment. Sally slightly upped the amount of food and aquiecsed to one piece of equipment. The bartering continued in this manner as they all worked on finding an equitable amount of recompensation for the Weasels' services. Throughout it all, even though they were best of friends, all three Mobians worked out the details of the payment like true professionals. They all knew there was a time for friendship and a time for business partnership and that neither respective time could have anything to do with the other.

"Deal," Sally said once they'd reached a fair compromise. She placed her organic left hand in Liz's and shook once, tautly, then stepped back and smiled. "The full mission briefing will take place in half an hour. Thanks for joining us."

"Not a problem, Sal Gal," Nack said. "Always glad to do a job with people who actually like us, neh?"

The Robotropolis Sprawl sat, as it had for the past nine years, like the decaying carcass of a once noble beast. SWATbots and other automatons made they way through the streets like maggots chewing away at that corpse, a colony of vicious parasites. They guarded the factories that created more of their kind, ran various projects for their insidious leader, and kept watch for any organic intruders.

They weren't doing a spectacular job at the last assignment as usual, Nack reflected as he casually flicked his cigarette. The ashes, suddenly dislodged from the cigarette's burning end, floated gently down the side of the building Nack was standing on and softly alighted on a SWATbot's shoulder. The menacing black robot didn't even turn its dome-shaped head to look . . . there was far too much in the way of dust and grime falling all around for it to bother worrying about it.

"I thought Liz got you stop smoking those things," Rotor Walrus said as he scanned the streets with a set of electronic binoculars.

"Liz ain't here, is she?" the bounty hunter returned. He took another quick drag, finishing the hand-rolled cigarette off, then pulled another from his pocket and lit it with his windproof lighter. "Gotta get as many in as I can before she makes me quit again, neh?"

Rotor laughed. "If you say so," he said with a shrug. He continued scanning the streets until the light sound of crunching gravel caused him to jump. "Nack, wha-"

A glance at Nack's still relaxed stance allayed the walrus' sudden fears. "S'just the Princess," the bounty hunter said, never taking his eyes off the SWATbots below. "She took a slight misstep getting up on the roof. No worries."

Rotor nodded and went back to his binoculars. Within just a few moment, Princess Sally had crossed the gravel-covered roof and strode up to Nack. "Liz and Sonic are in position at the warehouse," she said. "Is Antoine ready to go?"

"I haven't seen him yet, Sally," said Rotor. "I wish he'd hurry, though . . . these things are making my eyelids sweaty."

Now that Sally was there to be an extra set of eyes, Nack took a few moments to look up at the sky while they waited. Though he knew that probably no one else would agree with him, from time to time he thought the sky over Robotropolis held a kind of beauty in the way the building and street lights bounced off the cloud cover. It was especially pretty now at nighttime without the sun in the back, spoiling the effect. The fact that it was heavy industrial pollution instead of natural clouds didn't really help, either, but at least Nack could temporarily forget that part.

He hated being seperated from Liz, even for this brief amount of time. He began to wonder if she was looking up at the underlit clouds like he was . . .

"There he is," Rotor said, breaking through the weasel's reverie. It looks like he's already planted the bomb, and he's making a break for the rendevous point." He pulled the binocs from his eyes and stashed them in one of his pouches. "I guess that's my cue to head out, too. You guys be careful out there."

"Always am, Gears," said Nack.

Sally squeezed the walrus' shoulder gently. "Thanks, Rotor," she said, "and good luck with the other bomb."

Rotor nodded, then made his way to the fire escape the Princess had come up a short time before. Nack flicked the last of his cigarette over the side of the roof then joined Sally a bit further down the edge. The seconds ticked by painfully slow until, finally, the bright cloud of an explosion filled the sky in a nearby section of the city. Sally and Nack waiting until the 'bots below had cleared the area to go check on the disturbance, then the bounty hunter leapt up into the Princess' robotic arm.

Nack certainly didn't envy Sally's roboticized limbs, but he did sometimes wish he was able to copy the amazing leaps they enabled her to make. They fairly flew over the street and landed on a rooftop on the other side. Without missing a beat, Sally hit the roof running, then jumped across yet another street to land on the rooftop of the old Gunderson warehouse.

If they hadn't cleared the area of SWATbots earlier, an approach from this direction would have been completely impossible without being sited. Rotor had gone to set up another bomb to continue keeping the 'bots distracted so they could get back out later. Liz and Sonic had been able to make it to the other side without any problems, but Sally had wanted to tackle the warehouse from as many angles as possible and make it in and out without being noticed at all.

Having reached their destination, Sally set Nack down and they both started rigging up rappelling lines to the harnesses strapped across their bodies. As he readied himself for the trip down to street level, Nack sighed quietly to himself. Several years ago, he would have been able to just climb down using the electronic climbing claws woven into the backs of his gloves. But like the majority of his irreplaceable high-tech gadgets, they had worn out with time and use. The only reminder that they had even existed was a series of lines on his gloves that were slightly darker than the fabric around them. He still had a few tricks up his sleeve, though, and he could always depend on other, more easily replaceable items.

When the two Mobians reached the street, they left the two ropes to dangle from the rooftop. By the time any 'bots came around to notice, they intended to be long gone. They creeped slowly around the edge of the building until they reached a small service entrance. Sally opened a small panel in her robotic arm, then proceeded to plug several hookups from it into the door's electronic lock. Nicole, Sally's miniature supercomputer, worked furiously to dechipher the lock while Nack kept a lookout.

The lock opened with a soft click a few moments later. Sally pulled out the hookups, ran her hand down the small computer screen in her arm briefly, then said "Thank you, Nicole," softly before swinging the small panel shut.

Nack opened the door and slithered his way into the building, his ion pistol drawn and held pointing upwards. He took a second to marvel at the silence with which the Princess followed him on her metal legs, then proceeded through to the other side of the utility room that they found themselves in. Two more doors and they were finally in the main storeroom of the warehouse.

Every molecule in Nack's body suddenly froze solid when saw the giant metal monstrosity that sat in the middle of the room. His mind desperately wanted his eyes to tell it that they were hallucinating, but he knew it wasn't true. It was there, alright, as sure as the world.

They were just about to stumble into the lair of an MMRAV.

The last time Nack had seen a Massive Mobian Relocation Assault Vehicle was nearly five years ago, and the experience had almost gotten both him and his daughter stuck in the roboticizer. In fact, almost every encounter with the former combat tanks had just barely been won by the bounty hunter. Just barely. Nack was a strict believer in the idea that "just barely"s wore out after a while, and that one day, he would meet up with an MMRAV that he wouldn't get away from.

That worry had disappeared after he'd gotten word that the last of Robotnik's Ravers had been scrapped and accounted for, but it came back full force now that that particular rumour was proven untrue. Somehow, someway, the not-so-good doctor must have squirreled this one away for later use.

And with sudden clarity, it all came together. This was one of Dr. Robotnik's long term plans, and if Nack didn't get moving, it was going to be completely successful.

Even though it had felt like an eternity, Nack's paralysis only lasted for a second and a half. Shaking himself out of it, he turned and started to push the Princess out the door, trying to get her and himself out as fast as he possibly could. Sally frowned at him and whispered furiously, "What?! What is it?!"

"It's a fucking trap!" he whispered back, continuing to herd her out the door. She easily complied this time, trusting Nack's judgement.

Once they were back outside, he began to run around the side of the building as fast as his legs could carry him. Sally barely managed to catch up and breathlessly asked him what the hell was going on.

"It's a Raver!" he yelled at her over his shoulder. "The signal you picked up was bait to lure you in!"

He reached the corner of the building, skidded a few feet in a high-speed turn, then scrambled to keep his footing as he took off like a shot again. Sally almost didn't make the turn, suddenly lost in thought as the horrible ramifications of what Nack had seen washed over her. She redoubled her efforts, catching up with Nack just as he reached the next corner.

The bounty hunter skidded to a stop. Just a hundred yards away, Sonic and Liz were working on decoding the lock on the warehouse's main doors. Nack thanked the Walkers that Nicole had gotten them in so quickly, giving him a chance to warn the others about-

The sound of heavy hydraulics cut him off just as he was about to shout out to them. He was too late.

"NO!" he bellowed, and began to run once more. He saw that he'd gotten Liz's attention, but Sonic was staring into the warehouse with a look of utter surprise painted across his face. The surprise only lasted for a moment, however, as he immediately launched himself through the still-opening doors at super-sonic speeds.

Liz, startled by Sonic's sudden departure, turned to look inside. Her eyes went wild as she started scrambling backwards as fast as she could go. Nack's heart thudded painfully in his chest as he saw fear and confusion fight for control of his daughter's face. He needed to get to her, comfort her, but everything seemed to have slowed down, like time itself had been dipped in molasses.

He needed to get to her before something terrible happened.

A blast of laser-powered thunder ensured that he would never make it in time.

At first Nack couldn't comprehend what had just happened. He had been just about to reach the edge of the warehouse's giant front door, just about to reach Liz so he could take her to safety, when and explosion of light burst through from inside the building. He was flung backwards by the concussive forces of the explosion, deposited uncerimoniously several feet back the way he had come.

Adrenaline-powered nerves of lightning forced his muscles to flex and stretch purely by instinct, causing him to flip back upright and bolt forward again. He noted with growing dismay that Liz was no longer in front of him . . . the only thing he saw was ragged chunks of metal torn from the door by the explosion and flung outward.

He was able to see inside the building now. From what he could see through the smoke and haze, it became apparent that the old rumours were true . . . all the MMRAVs had been scrapped. The metal monstrosity that was maneuvering around for another shot inside the warehouse bay was an unconverted combat tank, a remenant of the Great War, and surrounded by several old WarBots trying to wrangle in a blue blur that was trashing them left and right.

Nack turned away from the scene inside. Sonic could handle himself, the 'bots, and the tank well enough with Sally's help. He just needed to find his daughter.

A strangled cry of joy came from his throat when he saw her across the street, leaning against a brick wall. The joy was fleeting, however, when he noticed that she wasn't standing under her own power. When the tank had fired its first shot, Liz had been spared from disintigration by the warehouse doors. But now, chunks of those doors had skewered through her left arm and both legs, then further planted themselves firmly into the wall she had been tossed into.

As he approached the rabbit's form, he could see that she was still breathing, and was even trying to raise her head.

"Oh, Walkers, Oh, Liz," Nack cried out as he ran to her side. "Can you hear me, kiddo? Oh, please, Walkers, tell me you can hear me!"

Liz lifted her face to look up at her father. Dark bruises had already started to form under her eyes and a trickle of blood floowed from her nose and joined another that was dribbling from the side of her mouth.

"Oh, Da," she rasped. "Ah'm so sorry . . . "

"No, no, don't you worry," Nack started to babble. "You're gonna be okay, don't worry. We'll get you down from here, and get you back to Knothole, and they're gonna fix you up. Okay? You hear me?"

Tears began to flow down Liz's face, mingling with the blood. It was only then that Nack realized that his muzzle was streaked with tears of his own. He placed his forehead on hers and began to run his hands across her head and shoulders.

"No, Da," she said. "You get th'hell outta here . . . there ain't no savin' me this time, Da . . . just git . . . "

The weasel felt hands settle down on his shoulders, but he ignored them. At that moment, there was no Sonic or Sally or Freedom Fighters or Dr. Robotnik. There was only him and his daughter.

"You don't know what you're saying," he sobbed. "You'll be okay . . . "

"No, Da, I won't," Liz said, some strength returning to her voice. "Now go on! You got more important things t'do!"

"C'mon, Nack, we've gotta get outta here!" Sonic's voiced drifted in from a million miles away. "SWATbots are comin'!" Nack shook him off and grabbed Liz's free hand.

"Nonononononononono," he chanted over and over again. "This can't happen, this won't happen, dammit, I'm not going to leave you!"

"Don't you get it, old man?!" said Liz, shouting loudly now. "You ain't leavin' me, I'm leavin' you! Now GIT!"

Nack was so shocked by Liz's words that he didn't - couldn't - move out of the way as she pulled her head back as far as it could go, then slammed her forehead full force right between his eyes.

"I love you, Da . . . now get him the hell outta here," was the last thing he heard before the world melted into blue speed lines and then, mercifully, into the inky blackness of oblivion.

For nearly seven hours since he had woken up in the Knothole infirmary, the bounty hunter had sat in the complete darkness of his hut. With practiced precision, his hands worked back and forth, cleaning his ion pistol over and over again. He didn't need to see it to do the job. He neither needed to see it, nor wanted to. He just wanted to be left alone.

Naturally, events conspired to make sure that wouldn't happen. Just a few short minutes ago, his solitude had been intruded upon by Princess Sally with the news that his daughter had been caught by the SWATbots and taken to Robotnik. The fat doctor had placed her in the roboticization chamber and had pressed the activation button himself.

Due to her extensive injuries, Liz had not survived the process.

He had not paused cleaning his pistol for even the briefest of moments when Sally had told him the news. He had simply sat, his back turned, taking the gun apart, cleaning the gun, and putting it back together. Sally, discourage by this behaviour but unsure of what else to do, had simply left him. She knew it was unwise to leave him alone, but the only other person who had tried to stay with him had obviously overstayed their welcome . . . besides complete indifference, apparently the only reaction they were going to get from him was homicidal rage.

With the distraction gone, he continued his unending labor.

Destroy, clean, repair, repeat.

In the end, he wasn't sure whether it was his mind, his body, his soul, or some combination of the three that had made the final decision. Either way, the result was the same . . . he emerged from the meditative trance that he had placed himself in to find that the power connections on the ion pistol's cooling system had been switched around. He paused in his work and stared down at the barely seen outlines of the gun he had carried with him ever since he'd joined the Bounty Hunter's guild.

With a sudden flurry of movement, he snapped the gun back together and activated the power source, then set the butt of the pistol against his forehead. Just under the ceramic/plastic alloy he could hear the soft ticking of overheating circuits. It was like distant music in his ears.

And for the first time in his life, he prayed to the Ancient Walkers, asking them to take away the pain once and for all . . .

When the ion explosion disappated, the only thing left of Nack's hut was a charred crater thirty feet in diameter.

- 3233 AD -

It took Nack The Weasel a few moments to remember to breathe. His heart, having skipped a few beats, jumpstarted painfully in his chest then resumed its natural rhythm. It felt almost as if his entire body was restarting piece by piece.

Once he finally felt like himself again, he slowly peeled his sweat-covered paw off of the Opal Oracle's curved surface and firmly pulled on his glove. He straightened his hat, brushed some imaginary dust off of his jacket, then looked around at the now-dimly lit ruins surrounding him.

If the way the temporary halogen lamps had nearly died out was any indication, he had been standing there with the Oracle for far longer than his former employer had. He had quite likely been there for several, several hours while the batteries ever so slowly died out. It was not a comforting thought.

With a look of almost casual indifference, he stared down at the Oracle's polished surface and absently scratched his chin.

"Why did you show me that?" he asked in a firm, level tone.

"In this life," the Oracle intoned, its voice once again reverberating off the stone walls, "there are those for whom regret is an ocean that they tread, ever trying to reach a shore that they will never see. For others, regret is a constant companion, walking beside them as they traverse the byways of life and love, hapiness and hardship. And finally, for those like you, Nack, it is not even a consideration. You live your lives doing what you must do to survive, not pausing to wonder if it was the right thing to do, or the wrong thing to do.

"For some, this results in great tragedies for the planet. For others - for you, Nack - it gives you the ability to shape the world into something far greater. I have seen into a future that does not yet exist, a future that you will help bring about . . . and I have seen that future poisoned and destroyed because you harbor one single regret."

"So, you think that by showing me this paltry shadowdance, you can give me peace enough of mind to fix a bleeding future?" said Nack.

"No," the Oracle replied. "It is unfortunate that I cannot truly give you that peace. I can only show you the truth of the might-have-been that you have carried with you all these years, and hope that you can find that peace on your own. It is necessary that you do so for the sake of all that lives. For you, Nack The Weasel, regrets are not an option."

Nack sighed and ran a glove across his eyes. He wasn't very surprised to find tears staining the fabric when he pulled his hand back down. He stood and stared for several moments as the teardrops slowly dissolved into the glove, then looked back up at the Oracle.

"I don't suppose you could just tell me how I destroy this future of yours, neh?" he asked.

"Doing so would change the course of that future and endanger it even further."

"I figured as much," he said bitterly. "Well, as much as I'd like to say that your little slideshow helped . . . I can't, 'cause it didn't. Maybe someday I'll get over it," he said as he shook his head and turned to walk away, "but not today. Catch ya later, Rocky."

"Good journey, Nack The Weasel," the Oracle said to the bounty hunter's retreating form. "It is a shame that we shall never meet again."

Nack hadn't realized before how heavy a presence the Opal Oracle had until it vanished suddenly from the room, slipping into yet another long, dark sleep.

- 3234 AD -

"Weasel."

Sonic T. Hedgehog, self proclaimed Fastest Thing Alive, stared Nack down with a smug smirk as they stood underneath a guard post deep in the Great Forest. Nack, for his part, simply brushed past the Freedom Fighter and stepped into the village proper.

"What's the matter, Weasel Boy?" Sonic said, not wanting to give up his quarry so easily. He followed after Nack as the bounty hunter walked along, continuing to studiously ignore him. "Lost your nerve? Not gonna call me a rodent and try to kidnap me for Robuttnik again? Ya little pansy. I hear Sal's got you up here on some kinda mission, but don't think for a second the main hedgehog's gonna let ya get away with anything! I'm gonna be on you like-"

With a sudden ferocity that caught even Sonic off-guard, Nack whirled around, grasped the hedgehog by the throat, and squeezed. Sonic gagged, then began to beat ineffectively on the weasel's wiry arm with his fists. Nack bent over Sonic, apparently intent on finishing the job and choking the life out of him, but gradually began to ease up. He finally relased Sonic, throwing him to the ground.

"Stay out of my way today, Sonic," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "Just . . . stay out of my way." With that, he turned on his heel and continued on into Knothole. Sonic coughed violently, sucking in as much air as he could stand, then stood up and brushed himself off.

"Jeez . . . what bee got up in his bonnet?" the hedgehog grumbled.

The meeting with Princess Sally was brief, at least as far as Nack was concerned. While he had listened to every detail of the job she wanted him to do with one ear, the majority of his mind had been somewhere else entirely. It was all simple enough anyway . . . blah blah go to Centropolis blah blah check on the Lieutenant Project blah blah work with Centerpoint Freedom Fighters blah blah stupid bitch blah.

Once they had settled on a price for his services, Nack left Sally's hut and started to wander. His feet would take him where he needed to go, he knew. In the meantime, he continued mentally reviewing everything he had learned about . . . her . . . since his meeting with the Opal Oracle.

She'd been born to a man named Taylor Rabbit, an entrepreneur that dealt especially in real estate. Most of his jobs had been contract work with the Acorn Kingdom government, finding sites for preserves, animal shelters, public parks, and the like. From a few of the scraps of information Nack had been able to piece together, it seemed that he had even taken part in choosing the location of Knothole Village.

He was a widower, and she was his only child. Because of his importance to the government, the two of them had moved from the Southern Ameran Territories to a house specially built for them just outside the Great Forest. Nack had visited the ruins of that house on more than one occaision, sifting through the rubble that Robotnik's war machines had left behind. The proximity to the forest explained at least one mystery that had been eating him up for a while . . . all her knowledge of the Great Forest had stemmed from her real father's outdoorsman attitude.

Unfortunately, Taylor Rabbit died shortly before Robotnik's coup, the victim of sudden massive coronary failure. Without any other surviving family, his daughter had been taken in by royal family and cared after by the palace nanny, an elegant old lady named Rosie.

An image of that old lady staring at him across a rubble-strewn street flashed briefly through Nack's mind, causing him to frown deeply. He saw himself handing the young girl to her all those years ago . . . before, he had cursed her for looking at him that way, making him feel guilty for even considering keeping the girl. But now, having seen what would have happened had he followed that path . . .

Just as he'd expected would happen, he found himself in front of her hut. Now that he was there, he felt a chill run down his back. He'd seen her a few times since that day ten years ago, but she'd never recognized him so he hadn't pressed the issue. But now that he knew all these things about her, he couldn't help but wonder how he could stand to have her continue to look at him like a total stranger.

He didn't want this confrontation to take place. But he needed it to, and that was far more important. He raised a gloved hand and rapped gently on the hut's doorframe.

"Come in," a heavily accented voice called from inside. Nack took every bit of strength and courage left in him and used it to reach forward and open the door. He stepped into the small hut, shut the door behind him, and looked up to see her glaring hatefully at him.

"Oh," Bunnie Elizabeth Rabbot said disappointedly. "It's you."

Pain sliced briefly through Nack's heart, making him want to turn and run. He forced himself to stay put, however, and tried his best to look straight at her.

The first thing he noticed, of course, was her roboticized limbs. He briefly wondered if she'd have rather died without them than continued living with them, but he brusquely shoved that thought aside. She was still muscular - probably from having to carry around all that hardware - but not with the wiry whipcords that his training would have gotten her. She was slightly plump as well . . . almost voluptuous in a way.

The eyes, however, as well as the ears, the fur . . . it was her, without a doubt. The same fiery determination sparkled within her, the same strong will that he had loved so very much in that other life.

"Well, what do yuh want, Nack?" she asked, refocusing his attention. "Ah ain't got all day."

He looked down at the floor and cleared his throat momentarily, then looked back up at her. "I'm . . . " he started off uncertainly, "I'm here to give you something." He took a few steps towards her, noting the cautious look that suddenly stole over her face. "I know what you're thinking," he said quickly, "and I really don't blame ya. I haven't really done this village much good. You probably wouldn't accept what I have ta give ya if I told you what it was first. Hell, you'd probably think I'd gone off my rocker, and ya might be right in thinkin' that. All I can do is ask you to trust me just this once . . . "

Before Bunnie could say a single word, Nack took a final, huge step forward . . . and gave her a hug.

Startled, she began to squirm in an attempt to get away until she realized that he really didn't mean any harm. It was just a simple embrace, nothing more and nothing less. Highly unsure of what exactly was going on, but sensing that the weasel truly did need to do this, she slowly wrapped her arms around him and hugged him back.

The two Mobians stood embracing each other for several long moments. Finally, Nack pulled back slightly, running his lips lightly across Bunnie's ear as he whispered softly into it, "Take care of yourself, Liz." Then, without another word, he snugged down his hat, turned on his heel, and left.

Several conflicting thoughts ran through Bunnie's mind, but only one managed to make it fully formed to the surface. She stared at the door he had just walked through and wondered aloud, "How the hoo-hah did he know mah middle name?"

Nack strode out into the village, intent on finding the escort that had been assigned to him for his current job. With the confrontation that he had so dreaded done and over with, he wanted to get out of Knothole as soon as Mobianly possible.

Bunnie had grown up into a fine, strong woman without his help, he could see that now. If he had kept her, he would have simply traded away her life for his own gratification, a debt that he could never have paid back. All the regret and pain was washed from his body, mind, and soul, leaving him refreshed and whole again.

Whatever it was that the Oracle had wished to prepare him for, he was as prepared as he was ever going to be.

He was Nack The Weasel.

And he had a job to do.

END.

Roland Lowery

esn1g@earthlink.net

December 20, 2003