thinkingagain

[thinkingagain]

It might have seemed necessary to them to be careful. But the creatures that called themselves human beings were often not careful.

Sir Sleepy of the Bunny Nest (A Novel of the Revolution) Book Three: The Be Attitudes Chapter 33

They called themselves human beings. They lived on a remarkable life support system they called Earth. They loved to count time and to count themselves.

That year, another year in the years they were always counting, they numbered 7 billion, 798 million, and nearly 800 thousand more. Most lived packed closely together in massive conglomerations they called cities. Many lived in smaller groups and a few lived nearly alone, not only on fields and the edges of oceans and lakes and rivers but also sometimes on mountains or in deserts. Some humans lived where it was hot, others where it was cold. There were still a few places on Earth so remote and forbidding that they didn’t live on them, but they had visited those places, marked them and measured them and fought over who owned them.

Their numbers were growing. There were so many in fact that as big as the Earth was, they were coming perilously close to draining all its resources. If they did that, they would all die.

It might have seemed necessary to them to be careful. But the creatures that called themselves human beings were often not careful.

They needed clean air to live. Yet their factories and power plants, their planes and cars spewed gases into the sky so fast that the amounts might soon stop them from breathing.

If they were to live, they needed clean water to drink. Yet all over the planet, chemicals they used on fields and factories drained into the water, leaving its surfaces sludgy and its depths dangerous. Trash they dumped in rivers and lakes and oceans poisoned and choked the life under water.

They needed ground to live on. Yet they had dug deeply into the ground, breaking it open, drawing nutrients and energy out of it, leaving it bloated and barren. They even broke open rocks underneath its surface, shaking the Earth that sometimes shook on its own to realign itself. They were breaking the Earth apart until everything on its surface had come close to crumbling.

Every day they turned more and more of the sky, the water, and the ground into things that would soon enough, if not stopped, gain the power to destroy them. Though some humans tried to stop such things from happening, many more didn’t care or even know. They would grow angry if anyone told them they were destroying themselves.

Living among those 7 billion, 798 million, and 800 thousands of creatures calling themselves human were other creatures as well. Animals that flew in the sky or lived in trees or on the ground or under the ground, or on and in the rivers, lakes, and oceans. Of those—which most of the so-called human beings didn’t consider as important as themselves—a few saw the destruction threatened by human beings and were committed to stopping it. How many of them were there? Hard to say. Animals didn’t live in a world where counting mattered more than anything. Still there were not that many. Human beings outnumbered them vastly.

As the humans went about doing all that they did, these animals watched them closely and tried to protect the Earth and other animals when they could. Their animal eyes looked from trees, from rocks and hills and fields, from the waters and from the sky. Looking, they saw many opportunities to prevent those so-called human beings from destroying the Earth. There were even humans they could work with. Yet there were also humans who knew about animal magic and wished to conquer or pervert it. The enemies of animal magic were becoming faster and more dangerous all the time.

The animals knew of their enemies, watched them and many times defeated their deadly purposes. The animals had something that most human beings didn’t: a certainty about the value of living and an understanding of how to live. So they watched and waited for the right moments to resist. They had patience of a kind that humans didn’t understand, and they knew when it was time to act. They moved through human cities and outside them. They shared what they knew. They believed in themselves and what they were doing. They wanted others, even humans, to know about them and help them if they were willing.

Eventually all planets die, as does all the life on them. But when the Earth would die, soon or in a time nearly beyond counting, remained unclear.

It was possible that the answer lay in the hands of magic animals and all who were wise enough to stand with them. THE END of Sir Sleepy of the Bunny Nest (A Novel of the Revolution)

[thinkingagain]

One night as they talked, the shadows of the Sierra Mountains rising high behind them, the Sir reached a decision.

Sir Sleepy of the Bunny Nest (A Novel of the Revolution) Book Three: The Be Attitudes Chapter 32

On their travels together, Sir Sleepy of the Bunny Nest and Madam went many places. The two of them sat outdoors at cafés all over Europe—along with Madam’s three totem friends, of course. The Sir discussed with them many subjects, light and serious, with an ease of heart he had never known.

“And yet, Madam, a sadness weighs on me, and I shall never escape it,” he said at one table, in Rome, outdoors, at night. “Though I do not feel it much right now. It came to me early, and it has only been more defined with time. It was expanded by my experience of the Commandant brain, but that brain is not where it came from. Is it possible to be sad yet also to love life so much that one’s heart might break with the beauty of it?”

“It’s possible, Sir.” Madam smiled. “So many surprising things are. Often enough they’re even probable.”

After leaving Europe, they visited Mei Xiang, watched as she coordinated important actions with animals who had worked with her many years. The Sir marveled at the precision and generosity of her companionship and leadership. He and his friends saw her destroy several factories that had been choking the air and a dam that had threatened to dry up the ground. They shared stories with her companions and looked out at ancient mountains and forests across the lands that she protected.

After that, they visited the California countryside. They walked through trees and circled up hills and smelled the piney smell of afternoon and greeted noble horses.

In their many discussions, they talked too of what they didn’t know how to talk about. Who can say all there is to say about fears that are impossible to avoid and the wonders of living among the textures of day and night?

All of them shared the joy of being together, of living in the world with those they loved around them. They talked about how such things should happen to everyone. One night as they talked, the shadows of the Sierra Mountains rising high behind them, the Sir reached a decision. Once he had, it seemed as if it really been his only option.

One day their travels ended, as all travels must, even if only so other travels can begin. They found everyone at the Demesne busily committed to the struggle for animals and enjoying the lives they lived together. And after being there for a few weeks, taking more time to engage with friends and with the earth the water and the sky, the Sir felt that the moment had arrived. He hadn’t done everything in the world he had wished to do. He had only done more than he had ever believed he could.

The day he was ready to depart for the Brain Trust there was no celebration. His friends over the weeks before had spoken with him many times. Still they came out to see him as he readied himself for joining the Brain Trust through a special portal to the Dream Time that had been created for the occasion. All his friends knew they were there to say farewell only to one stage of the good companionship they had shared with the Sir. From the Dream Time, the Sir could be with any of them whenever they wished. All of them believed it and knew it would be so.

They gathered around him as he stood near the Demesne Lake to say that they would see him soon. Jack and Lucky Blue and Leo, Madam, Love Frog, Buster, and Sir Henry the Valiant, Ling Ling who was swishing her tail, Basil and Green Bear, McCalister and Smoochie, El Tigre and The Rattler, Little Sy, Matilda and Frank and Young Mountain Goat, Maximillian the penguin. In the lake beside him bobbed Chicoutimi and Naomi and Hyacinth and Olivia. Nearby stood Koala Lampur and Little Lampur and Stanley who had written his tale, which was still ongoing.

As he saw his friends, he knew that he would soon be spending time reflecting on many concerns with Mr. Puffy, The Magic Rabbit, Azalea and Most Mellow. He thought of Scruffy and Mei Xiang in their own lands, doing important work and living their lives. He looked in the folds of his shirt to see Thomas, that tiny grizzly, looking out and waving at everyone. “Together with you,” he said to all of them, those who were present and those he thought of, “I have been part of creating a land that never could have existed without you.” He paused. “Wait,” he said. “Where’s Muffin?”

“Here I am,” Muffin called out, then appeared. “All three of me.” Muffin went through his routine, becoming once more a frog, a grasshopper, and a panda. He was also holding a long rope. When he had done his routine, he put the rope in the Sir’s hand and began drawing it in. “I think you’ve forgotten something.” As he wound the rope, the Sir’s Beast came into view, mumbling and whimpering to itself.

The Sir nodded. “By all means I should not neglect to say farewell to this Beast.”

“Farewell?” Muffin shook his head. “You don’t think we’re keeping this Beast, do you, on the Demesne, while you dispense advice at your ease in a Dream Time meadow? Surely you don’t think we’re here to take care of your responsibilities?”

“My responsibilities?” the Sir stammered. “But….”

“You took this Beast with us long ago and had many chances to be rid of it.”

“But I could not be rid of it. Where would it go? How would it survive?”

“Good questions.” Muffin grinned. “Luckily no one’s asking you to be rid of it.”

“But I can’t take this Beast with me into the Dream Time.”

Muffin laughed. “You can and you will. Why do you think I’m so late this morning? I had my own bit of Dream Time consulting to do. You can always still choose to let it go of course. You can free it right now.”

The Sir’s face was dumbfounded. “It would never make it on its own.”

“I agree. In the Dream Time you can still give it meals and let it sit melancholy in the grass and recite its poetry at you and whine if you have to leave it. Before bed you can open its mouth and check its teeth and make sure it brushes them.”

“That smelly mouth!” The Sir raised his paws in protest. “With me, in the Dream Time?” He stared around at his gathered friends, looking in vain for help.

Muffin patted him on the back. “Ah, Sir. It’s the right thing to do. More than that, you know you want to.”

“Why am I the one with all these responsibilities?” the Sir cried out.

“Because you asked for them,” Muffin said.

--------------------------------------------

A few moments later the Sir, a rope around his rabbit arm and his Beast beside him, entered the Dream Time Portal. He looked at the Beast. “With you from the beginning to the end. What terrible luck.”

“Nobody loves me,” the Beast said.

The Sir rapped it on the nose. “Beast. If it isn’t clear by now, I do love you. Maybe if you’re lucky I will never figure out whether that’s a good thing or bad. So let’s hope neither of us ever knows too exactly why I love you.”

The Beast, not comprehending, looked at him blankly. The Sir scratched its leg, offering comfort.

The Dream Time portal swooped them up.

[thinkingagain]

“Oh, my fault, yes.” The man’s eyes shone brightly. “You know me online as Animal Sunrise 666. Your messages, both in the underground networks and on your public social media posts, are always so well done. Your comments on my comments have been great.”

Sir Sleepy of the Bunny Nest (A Novel of the Revolution) Book Three: The Be Attitudes Chapter 31

“I’m not sure yet,” Sir Sleepy of the Bunny Nest said to Madam. “I don’t know if I’m ready to take that big a step. I love being here so much, waking up with the Demesne every day and talking with my friends.”

“It’s special to me too,” Madam said. “The question is what you feel your purpose will be?”

“Yes. Here, I am pleasing myself by being surrounded by what I love, and I can still help in small ways. I can still adjust my role. There, it seems I could help more.”

They were walking as they so often had on the fields and hills around the Demesne. The Sir walked more slowly than in the past, yet his sore back and stiff legs grew limber with the warmth of walking under a bright sun. He used his walking stick only occasionally. His sword as always hung by his side.

“These walks with you, Madam, are what life is.” The Sir’s fur looked fluffy in the morning air, showing his relaxed happiness. “Do you think there’s any chance we will ever travel together? Perhaps it’s too late?”

“It’s not too late. We should do it. Where would you like to go?”

The Sir pondered. “I would like to spend more time in the great human capitals. Paris, others. And I would like to visit Mei Xiang, see up close how she struggles for the cause of animals. And oddly perhaps, I would like to visit California. Oh, I have seen the California cities. But the country is said to be lovely—the beaches, the mountains. Do you think we will ever do any of it?”

“Oh Sir. Let’s do all of it.” Madam reached out and held the Sir’s paw. They continued walking.

They didn’t walk alone though, as they once had. With his less-than-perfect eyesight and slower maneuverability, the Sir was both more vulnerable and less able to protect others. Lately when they walked outside the Demesne, a small group of frogs and koalas walked nearby, unobtrusively. These young animals looked for any trouble and were quick to react should any emerge.

When the voice of a man shouted, “Sir! I’ve been looking for you!” several frogs instantly stood within yards of the Sir, visible and ready to move in. The Sir gripped the hilt of his sword. Madam stood focused and watchful beside him.

The man came up, walking quickly, nearly running. His hair was long and scraggly, his face unshaven. He looked fit and athletic. He wore a black vest, black jeans, and black shoes. “I’m glad I’ve managed to find you. And ah, I believe this must be Madam with you.” He looked at her. “After our many excellent conversations, it’s a pleasure to finally meet.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know you.” Madam searched the man’s face for clues.

“Oh, my fault, yes.” The man’s eyes shone brightly. “You know me online as Animal Sunrise 666. Your messages, both in the underground networks and on your public social media posts, are always so well done. Your comments on my comments have been great. And Sir,” he turned towards that brave rabbit, “I’m a huge fan of all your adventures. Loved the book. Gave me many insights into how you do what you do. Any chance there’s a movie on the way?”

“I do not know.” Without taking his eyes off Animal Sunrise, the Sir saw Madam shaking her head, almost imperceptibly, with a no of warning. “What is it you wish from me?”

“I’m putting myself at your service.” Animal Sunrise bowed. “I would like to help you achieve your cause. Madam, I’m sure, can tell you about my commitment to the animal world.”

“I do know something about you.” Madam looked around warily. Capable frogs and koalas hovered nearby. “It’s certainly true that no one doubts your commitment. Or your conviction.”

“I would have been at the celebration, Sir, if Madam had written me back. She didn’t. Too much to do I guess.” At this last sentence, hostility crept into his voice.

“On the other hand,” Madam said, “I’ve heard many questions about your methods. Some people say your temper gets the best of you.”

Animal Sunrise’s upper lip raised in a sneer. “Maybe some people aren’t as committed as they ought to be or aren’t as willing to do what it takes. I’m not afraid of a bad reputation if it’s what comes along with believing in a cause.”

The Sir watched the quick rise in the man’s hostility. “I wish I could suggest some work for you. However, as you may not know, I’m no longer planning such things. I have retired. Still I appreciate your good wishes and your belief in the cause of animals. Thank you for coming all this way to see me. Is there anything else I can do for you today?”

“I would be honored to become your personal assistant,” Animal Sunrise said. “Or just one of your personal assistants. Whatever you might be doing next.”

“At this time, I have no need of more assistants. As you can see,” the Sir gestured at the frogs and koalas nearby, “I have many already. I do thank you though, again.”

“Then some other role of significance will do.” Animal Sunrise’s voice had a tightly insistent edge.

“I have none to suggest. My apologies.”

A whoosh of air came through Sunrise’s lips as if someone had punched him. “She has poisoned your mind against me maybe?” He looked at Madam. His eyes grew hot with intensity.

“I never once mentioned you to him.” Madam’s voice was calmly determined.

“Then I am dismissed more easily than I thought, and humiliated.” Animal Sunrise straightened his back, insulted, and turned as if to walk away. When he turned back, the pistol in his hand was pointed directly at Madam. “You and your friends can take me out,” he said to the Sir, “but I’m fast. My calculations suggest I can shoot her twice before your guards rip me to shreds.” He smiled grimly. “It’s terrible that the game has become so technical. Information from the assassin hired by the Commandant’s Nephew has become widely known. It’s all about tenths of seconds.”

The Sir paused carefully, restraining his own fear for Madam, and his own fury. His ears pinned back, ready for anything. “What is this doing for you?” he asked, genuinely confused. “How can it help me or you or anyone?”

“I want to be great.” Animal Sunrise spoke through tight teeth. “I’m tired of fighting on the margins for scraps of fame among timid pseudo-revolutionaries.” He looked at the small rabbit, though he kept his gun pointed at Madam. “I want to be great, like you are. And I can do it.”

The Sir shook his head. “You are accomplishing nothing by threatening your potential friends. There is no greatness in it. I will let you put the gun down and walk away. Perhaps there are good things in you. Perhaps, if you think carefully for a while, you will know what they are.”

“Walk away?” Animal Sunrise’s eyes narrowed with rage. “Walk back into obscurity forever is more like it. I know what will be said about me. No. This is it. I’m taking my chance. I’m ready for greatness and I want it now. Besides,”—he smiled with a gruesome sadness—“I don’t think you’ll let me walk away. The odds are in your favor, you and your guards, and you know it. I’ve been willing to put myself this much at risk all for you. Surely that counts for something?”

“I will ask the animals guarding me to leave if you will put down the gun.” The Sir’s face softened with compassion and his voice was calm. “Then you can walk away. If you do not wish to walk away, then I can walk away and leave you victorious here on the field.”

“That’s not what I want. I want to fight for you, not against you.” He shook his gun still pointed at Madam.

“At this time, that cannot be. I am sorry.”

“I’m not going to take that for an answer.”

Compassion drained from the Sir’s face. He eyed the man coldly. “Then I will give you the opportunity to fight me and me alone. Let Madam walk away. If you kill me, will that not create the fame you desire? Perhaps other animals will come to see that your victory over me shows how much they need you for a leader. I admit it seems unlikely. But if you are as destined for greatness as you say, these things will become so. You even have a gun. I, only a sword.”

“You’re telling me I don’t fight fairly? What do you know about fighting fairly, you and your magic sword?”

“I will put my sword down if you put the gun down. We can fight weaponless, rabbit to human. We shall see which of us is more capable of defending what we value.”

Animal Sunrise’s expression widened in confusion and fear. “I need to think. Send the others away. Why won’t you let me fight for you? Send the others away so I can think.” His tone had become high-pitched.

The Sir gestured his request for the koalas and frogs to go away. They did. “Now there are only three of us. That’s one too many.”

“She forced me to do this.” Animal Sunrise’s gun remained pointed at Madam. “I can’t let her walk away.” Madam didn’t move.

“On the contrary,” the Sir said. “You have read my book. You know that greatness requires you to let her live. She is not armed and has not tried to attack you. If you want to lead as I lead, letting her go is your next step.”

Animal Sunrise pulled his arm above his head and the barrel of his gun pointed towards the sky. The instant he moved, Madam dashed away a few steps, behind a tree. Then she scrambled even further back, behind a rock.

“You have done well,” the Sir said. “You may go in peace.”

A paroxysm of anger filled Animal Sunrise’s face. “I didn’t come here to go in peace. I came here to change the world. I’ve done as you asked. Now will you let me help you?”

The Sir stood completely still. “You don’t wish to help. That’s something you need to understand. You wish for fame, and you wish to lead. You wish to harm anyone who prevents you from doing as you please. I have seen men like you before many times. You must go away and learn to feel differently and think differently. It is possible for you, I know. Until then I can only work against you. But even now, I will not try to harm you. I will not stop you from walking away.”

“Not harm me?” Animal Sunrise grunted deep in his throat. “You, today. This was my last hope. I have no other.”

“That isn’t true. You only wish it was.”

“Don’t tell me what I wish. You have no idea what it’s like to be me.”

The little rabbit’s mouth twitched sadly. “Sometimes I long for that to be so. True, I don’t know you, but I know enough about what it’s like to be you. I can see how easy it would be, with one small misstep, for me to be that way also. So I know how dangerous you are. Still I stand here, allowing you to walk away. In doing that, I prove to myself that I am not yet just like you. I prove that I will give you the chance to change.”

“Everything you stand for is a lie, isn’t it?” Animal Sunrise said. “You say you want to work with those who want to help you, then you turn on us.”

“You do not understand. Unless you are willing, I cannot help you understand.”

“You’re the one who doesn’t understand.” Animal Sunrise’s voice bit with fury. “You can’t win without me. The Beasts that will be coming for you are faster than the ones that came before, stronger. Do you know how many Beasts there are, all over the world, improving their destructive potential constantly? There’s no hope unless you have me on your side. There’s no way that you, even with all your magic friends put together, can stop them. You’ll find out.”

The Sir drew himself up protectively. “If what you say is true, then we will all die. Maybe it is true. But I do not believe it simply because you say so. I do not intend to live like it is true even if it is. As you say, I’ll find out.”

“You can’t refuse me. I’ve devoted my whole life to being your savior.”

The Sir startled. The pain in his face grew deep. “You cannot be my savior. No one can save anyone, not without their help. It has taken me a long time to learn that, to know how little any one of us can do. That’s why it’s essential to work together with others so that all of us can save ourselves. I hope only that someday you will see that. You will not walk away? Then I will.” The Sir turned around and walked.

“Don’t turn your back on me,” Animal Sunrise spat.

The Sir kept walking. He felt, all his rabbit senses attuned, as Animal Sunrise’s hands tightened on the gun.

He jumped just before Animal Sunrise pulled the trigger.

The bullet thudded into the earth some inches beside the Sir. He had already turned, sword in hand. “So be it,” he said.

Animal Sunrise shot again. The Sir had already moved. When he shot yet again, the Sir had also moved. “But you’re old,” Animal Sunrise said. “You’ve retired.”

“I am still nimble enough sometimes,” the Sir moved closer to Animal Sunrise, “to do what I need to.”

When Sunrise fired again, the Sir had already rolled. Then he leapt forward. With his sword he knocked Animal Sunrise’s gun yards away.

Animal Sunrise threw up his arms. “My gun is gone. You can’t hurt me now. Your pretend principles won’t let you. They’re a sham, I see, but you have your image to protect.”

The Sir pointed his sword at Animal Sunrise’s heart. “Go. You are defeated.”

“You won’t use that sword.”

The Sir looked at the sword then threw it away across the grass. “I am leaving now. I don’t need a sword to make it so. There is nothing for you here. I say farewell to you.” Once again the Sir turned his back.

Swiftly, Animal Sunrise pulled a knife from his pocket and lunged at the Sir. The Sir dodged and smashed with a kick into Animal Sunrise’s chest, knocking him backwards. Sunrise recovered and started forwards towards the Sir again, slashing as he came.

The Sir, grunting with back pain, dodged the slashing. Spinning, he grabbed Animal Sunrise’ arm that didn’t have the knife and twisted it behind the man’s back, breaking it. Animal Sunrise howled, frenzied with pain. With the knife, Sunrise slashed and slashed at the Sir, who had landed again on the ground. One slash nicked the Sir’s ear.

Furious, the Sir leapt high above the slashing arm. He put his paws on each side of Animal Sunrise’s head and twisted it. The man’s neck cracked with a grinding sound. Animal Sunrise’s legs gave out underneath him.

The Sir landed lightly on his feet beside the body. Pain from his effort surged across his lower back. He put a paw on his back to steady himself.

He recalled, looking at the body, the first creature he had killed, a young man, all that time ago. That too had been one on one, alone. Both had been unable to give over their murderous rage. The feeling of killing that one, then, he had been able to shake off. This one, now, he was not.

“Sir?” The Madam was walking over.

He looked at her, then back at the body of Animal Sunrise 666. “I hope I never do that again,” he said.

[thinkingagain]

Azalea sighed, gently amused. “Such a modest little world-conquering bunny you are,” she said. “And before you get started, yes, modesty is a helpful skill also… when not overused.”

Sir Sleepy of the Bunny Nest (A Novel of the Revolution) Book Three: The Be Attitudes Chapter 30

Sir Sleepy of the Bunny Nest had not been asleep long before he woke into the vivid expanse of the Dream Time. There, things always seemed more precise than they did in ordinary waking day. Dreams, those lively shadows, came out into the open of an alternative visionary world.

The Sir looked around. Leo and Muffin had joined him. In front of them stood a broad green hedge. They walked around the corner of the hedge and found a grassy spot similar to the one in the physical world on which they had fallen asleep.

“Harumpf… puff.” Mr. Puffy floated over the hedge and onto the grass. The long wound on his neck was visible as always. The Magic Rabbit arrived right behind him in the usual rainbow of fur and scampering bunny bandana. Azalea walked up happily and greeted her friends. Most Mellow came last, looked sleepy and acknowledged no one, although it was clear that through his half-closed eyes he saw everything.

“How curious,” the Sir said to them all. “I’ve never thought to ask before now. Surely the four of you can’t be the whole Brain Trust for every animal who needs a Dream Time brain?”

“Very true,” Mr. Puffy said. He held out his flower for the Sir to smell. “Every animal who consults the Brain Trust receives an appropriate set of advisers. Imagine what kind of talking-to we’d get if, say, Mei Xiang’s Brain Trust had no pandas or female animals. What can we do for you, good Sir, after your most special day?”

“I’m sure you know that yesterday I retired from my former position. I don’t know what to do next. I don’t have the eyesight anymore, or the quickness, to be a consistent fighter or leader on the ground. I’m not a maker of specific grand strategies, although sometimes I have been a quick and instinctive tactician. I have no special talent for technology or drama or money or trickery. I’m hardly a philosopher like Leo. I suppose if I have any abilities at all, they are dreaming big and taking action. But I cannot take action so much anymore, and my big dream is alive and well in the world.”

“You can always,” Mr. Puffy said, “just be a rabbit.”

The Sir, honored and forlorn, bowed. “My good friend Scruffy taught me that there’s nothing more worth being. Yet life as an ordinary rabbit takes exceptional talent—for eating, sleeping, running in the grass, taking in the smells and sights of the day, being alert to all things. It is a specific talent for attention. Too many things have happened to me to make me feel like I could belong, capably, to that kind of life. Maybe I am not yet entirely recovered from my wounds?”

Azalea spoke up. “Most of us in the Brain Trust know a little bit about wounds and recovery. But Sir, what would you like to do? Surely that’s the first question to ask.”

The Sir pondered. “I haven’t lived in a world in which what I liked ever really mattered. I did what I did because it seemed to me important. But to do something because I like it? I’ve always wished to travel with Madam. I like nothing more, sometimes, than to wake up in the morning with the whole day ahead of me, to see and feel and smell all around me trees and fields and animals. I like to let the day seep into me while I sit very still. Most of all though, I guess I like to have friends, and I like to help.”

“Can you say more about helping?” Mr. Puffy said. “Just to be clear?”

“If I see an animal struggling with something, I want to be of service. To teach when I know anything worth teaching. To hold out my paws and carry when something needs to be carried. To fight if there is someone who needs defending.”

“In other words,” Mr. Puffy said, “to do all the things you’ve been doing.”

The Sir bowed again. “I feel grateful that you would say so.”

Azalea looked at Most Mellow Koala, who through half-closed eyes nodded at her. She walked over to Mr. Puffy and whispered to him. Mr. Puffy hummed in gravely agreement. Azalea took a few steps closer to the Sir. “You could always join us here.” Her voice rang out musically. “In the Brain Trust.”

The Sir startled. “Join the Brain Trust? What do you mean?”

“Many others could benefit from your experience,” Mr. Puffy said. “There are a lot of brilliant animals out there. They can always use better advisers.”

“What would I have to advise anyone on? I have no unique abilities.”

“No?” Azalea said.  “Don’t you think there are a few animals who might need advice on how to dream big? Or on how to turn dreams into action? Or on what to do in a tough spot? Or on how to believe in themselves and others? I hope you aren’t going to suggest that those aren’t important skills?”

The Sir stared at her, trying to comprehend. “You want me in the Brain Trust? You think I could help?”

Azalea sighed, gently amused. “Such a modest little world-conquering bunny you are,” she said. “And before you get started, yes, modesty is a helpful skill also… when not overused.”

The Sir looked at Leo and Muffin, who had been watching the conversation carefully. They seemed to understand that their role, now, was simply to let the Sir know that they were there. “But my friends…?”

“The Dream Time,” Most Mellow said, as if speaking to himself, “is a place where mind and heart are connected. There, no one can be apart from you unless they wish it.”

“I am speechless,” the Sir said. “It never occurred to me.”

“I will simply note,” Azalea said, “that the speechless also do a lot of talking.”

“Does The Dream Time really need anyone else? How can that be? You already had all the advice I needed.”

“It’s impossible to know in advance what anyone will need,” Mr. Puffy said. “But there are many who need what you alone could offer them. The Brain Trust can only be what it is because of animals who choose to take part in it. Like all magic, it exists because someone wishes it to exist and is willing to make it so. Will you help us?”

The Sir looked around uncertainly. “I’m afraid to leave the Demesne. I’m afraid to leave my friends. Without it and them, I don’t know who I am.”

“In the Dream Time,” Most Mellow said, “one is neither leaving nor arriving. One is simply always both there and not.”

“Besides,” Azalea said, “the transfer isn’t permanent if you don’t want it to be. As you know, I’ve thought about going back. All of us do. But most of us, it’s true, don’t go back. The reasons for that can’t be explained. They’ll just have to be experienced once you’re here.”

“May I think about it some?” the Sir asked.

“Our hope,” Mr. Puffy said, “is that you will think about it often.”

The Sir looked at the red wound along Mr. Puffy’s neck, at the place on Azalea’s flank where she had been shot, and at the many scars of Most Mellow. “I’ve heard how Azalea and Most Mellow were wounded, Mr. Puffy,” the Sir said, “but I’ve never heard how you were.”

“Puff,” Mr. Puffy gratefully acknowledged the attention. “I managed to take the place of an animal about to be executed. And because of my abilities, I was able to not get executed.” He rubbed his flower lightly across his wound. “The executioners didn’t survive, although I’m not the only one who killed them. Fighting was not my foremost skill back when I lived in the world that you do now.”

“What were your particular skills?” the Sir asked.

“I was adept,” Mr. Puffy said, “at avoiding needless death, both for myself and for others. An escape artist, some might say. Though as you can see my approach wasn’t always perfect.”

The Sir stared. “Then all this time, you have been helping me avoid needless death?”

“I have.” Mr. Puffy held his flower towards the Sir, who smelled it. “Of course, death is also needed. It’s fundamental to life. But not every specific death is needed right when it becomes possible. And avoiding needless death also requires knowing how to work with the fact that life continues. Along with helping animals avoid needless death, my related skill was encouraging them to accept and love life. The avoiding of needless death is intimately connected with the desire for further living.”

“You’ve been helping me with that also?”

“Sometimes. More, I would say, I have been helping you recognize, and value, all the desire you’ve always had for living and for making of your living something that matters.”

Sir Sleepy of the Bunny Nest saw that it was so. He bowed with thanks.

[thinkingagain]

“It had a name once and didn’t seem to have wanted it. Not sure it wants another one now when it has finally learned to respond so well to this one.”

Sir Sleepy of the Bunny Nest (A Novel of the Revolution) Book Three: The Be Attitudes Chapter 29

After the performances and speeches ended, the rest of the celebration also went well. Friendships among many animals grew and more than one new friendship began. Events like this hadn’t been a regular part of the world of magic animals, yet it seemed a great way to helped camaraderie and morale. Many animals realized more than ever that they were part of a group of shared activities that helped everyone involved.

Many animals were talking about the speech of Sir Sleepy of the Bunny Nest and his announcement of his retirement. Some animals wanted to emphasize the sadness, others the remarkable moment within a long history of remarkable moments. Everyone acknowledged the wonder of being part of such an unforgettable history.

The Sir greeted and spoke to all those who wished to speak to him. He talked with companions he had long known and friends he was meeting for the first time. He put his glasses away in the pocket of his suit. He kept his walking stick steadily at his side, using it when his back or legs began to feel overtired. Whenever he needed he sat in the grass.

As evening came on, many animals began leaving for their homes. Others were staying at the Demesne overnight, or in some cases for several further days, for a variety of public discussions and formal talks that Sy had arranged.

The Sir was sitting on soft grass with Leo, Jack, and Lucky Blue. Muffin walked up, pulling the Sir’s Beast on its leash. “It has been crying out on and off today. I think it misses you, but I can’t be sure.” He motioned to the Beast to sit. It promptly did, then lay back in the grass, waiting.

“Has anyone checked its teeth?” the Sir asked

“After your special day?” Muffin handed the leash, roped loosely around his wrist, to the Sir. “I figured you’d want that honor yourself.” He looked at the Sir slyly out of the corner of his eye.

“Very well then.” The Sir sighed. With his cane he climbed onto the Beast’s chest and walked towards its face. “Open up.”

The Beast opened its teeth then snapped them at the Sir. The Sir rapped the Beast lightly on the nose. “If you’re going to snap at me, the least you can do is give more than these obvious fake attacks.” He crinkled his nose. “Well, you’ve brushed, but my goodness. Smelly!” He looked at Muffin. “Shall we perhaps not call it Beast anymore? Give it an actual, more specific name?”

“Up to you.” Muffin shrugged. “It had a name once and didn’t seem to have wanted it. Not sure it wants another one now when it has finally learned to respond so well to this one. I think it appreciates the consistency.”

“I see that.” The Sir looked away from the Beast and at his companions. “I’m feeling a lack of consistency myself. Not sure what I should do next. Maybe take some relaxed small journeys merely for the pleasure? I can’t write my memoirs; they’re already being written. I love to nap and eat as much, I hope, as any rabbit, but I can’t do only that. It’s hard to settle down after so much high energy activity for so long. Now that I’m feeling fairly recovered from my injuries, I’m certainly interested in doing something, even if not in the same degree I used to. Leo?” He turned to that large rabbit. “Thoughts?”

“I’m never short on thoughts,” Leo rumbled cheerfully. “In this case though, I think you should take a full range of advice.”

The Sir stared at him uncertainly before the implication broke through. “Ask the Brain Trust, you mean?”

“That’s what I mean,” Leo said.

[thinkingagain]

A raised stage had been placed on the Animal Meeting Ground. A large screen was set up near the Demesne Lake and others could watch the stage comfortably from there, through cameras set up near the stage. Several other cameras were set up to view events at the lake itself. A screen near the main stage showed the lake and what was happening there.

Sir Sleepy of the Bunny Nest (A Novel of the Revolution) Book Three: The Be Attitudes Chapter 28

The day of the celebration broke sunny and cool and warmed slowly. The weather was fine both for those animals who liked cool weather and those who liked it hotter.

A raised stage had been placed on the Animal Meeting Ground. A large screen was set up near the Demesne Lake and others could watch the stage comfortably from there, through cameras set up near the stage. Several other cameras were set up to view events at the lake itself. A screen near the main stage showed the lake and what was happening there.

Overnight, more animals had arrived. It was not a throng, the whole population of magic animals in the world not being immensely large. Still, many animals strolled and lounged and chatted all over the Demesne grounds.

Mei Xiang arrived at the Demesne that morning, freshly victorious from an action that had disabled dozens of Beast vehicles headed towards the construction site of a now abandoned mine in western China. The legendary panda quickly became the center of much attention. Her short speeches involving combinations of “road” and “silk” made clear she had come to honor Sir Sleepy of the Bunny Nest on his return to action. She wished the focus to be on him and the Demesne.

Large wooden troughs where animals could get fresh water, brought directly from nearby streams, were set up around the Animal Meeting Ground. A variety of healthy animal foods could be brought, on request, to any animal who needed to eat.

Late morning, the celebration began.

First came a series of frog songs, sung by a large choral group of frogs spaced around the Animal Meeting Ground for musical effect.

Next there was a rabbit jumping contest. A number of young rabbits competed to see who could jump over the highest obstacle.

The contest was followed by a synchronized swimming fish dance at the Demesne Lake. A series of dances told several tales of aquatic animal struggles against Beast water vessels. During the dances, musical accompaniment by underwater whale and dolphin sonar was sent by sound devices into the air around the lake and the main stage.

Next, the Feeding of the Koalas was a slow, ritual dance. In the story of the dance, ten koalas, forced into exile and surviving there, returned at last to their home eucalyptus trees. They climbed into them, ate, and took a nap.

Of course, there was no need to tell the tale of the Demesne itself, not on this day. Copies of the book Conquest: Book One of Sir Sleepy of the Bunny Nest (A Saga of the Revolution) were available for everyone. Although the book had been published for its potential effect on Beast readers, many animals were glad to have stories they had often heard put into more defined context. Most knew one or more of the Beast languages in which the book had been published.

The book was opened and discussed many times that day. Stanley, along with Koala Lampur, took the stage and told everyone how the idea for the book had come about. Stanley told some anecdotes about the shyness of the Sir in regards to the book’s creation. Whenever he saw Stanley’s notepad, Stanley said, the Sir always looked away and acted like nothing was there. Stanley provided details about the information-gathering interviews and research that had helped make everything in the book as precise as possible.

When Stanley and his friends stepped down, Little Sy took the stage. Grateful cheers rose from the assembled animals. Many of them had dealt with Sy directly during the Sir’s travels and convalescence. They knew him as the thoughtful, practical, and effective koala that he was.

“I want to welcome all of you,” Sy said, “who have chosen to be here on this very special day. Many of you I know. Some of you whose reputations I have long been aware of I am meeting for the first time. We here at the Demesne owe you our grateful thanks in more ways than I could possibly name. We appreciate so much that you have been able to leave behind for a few precious hours your many asks in the struggle to maintain an earth fruitful enough to support the lives of the animals who live on it.

Sy shuffled a bit on stage, centering himself. “I know that many of you feel, as I do, that your own lives and stories and work have been inspired by the rabbit who I am about to introduce, or for some of you, re-introduce. I ask you to take a moment to think of what this rabbit has meant to you. Words feel clumsy”—here Sy faltered a bit—“as I try to express how much his life has been a guiding vision for my own. I hope you understand how profound this moment must be, if words seem inadequate to a koala who loves to talk as much as many of you know I do.”

Hearty laughter came from the gathered animals who stood or sat around the grounds in their most comfortable postures, many feeling powerful emotions surging through their limbs.

“I want to assure you though that those of you who have come all this way for the chance to hear me talk will have many opportunities.”

The gathered animals laughed again. Many also cheered, for they had talked with Little Sy often in the course of their struggles.

“Enough of that, for now,” Sy said. “I want to bring to this stage that friend of ours for whom this day has been arranged. Without him, my life—and the lives of many of you—would have been unimaginably different. And so, you animals of many shapes and sizes and colors, please join me in honoring Sir Sleepy of the Bunny Nest!”

The joyous roar of animals filled the air, an array of the sounds of creatures glad to be alive and among their companions.

On one side of the stage, a small brown rabbit, using a stick to steady himself, climbed several stairs, legs working slowly and cautiously until he stood on the stage itself.

The animal crowd grew silent and stared. All knew that Sir Sleepy of the Bunny Nest had been wounded and was recovering. Many had not yet seen that he needed a stick to aid his walking. They watched, stunned and concerned and admiring, as the little rabbit made his way to the microphone.

He was wearing, in honor of the day, his fancy blue sweater and suit. Though always dapper, he had never been a rabbit of many costumes. The nature of his current costume was well known; everyone knew that he had been wearing it when working with his friends to destroy the Commandant. He held onto his walking stick firmly as he reached the microphone.

“Hello,” he said into the microphone. “I and my bosom companion Thomas are looking for some friends to join us in our dream of founding a Demesne.” The little grizzly, eyes shining, peeked out above the Sir’s shirt. “It will be a place where all animals can be the animals they wish to be, where all of us together can work to create a better life for animals around the world. Will you join us?”

A chorus of animal sounded together, their voices filling the sky. All of them had connected in many ways with the vision of the animal world that Demesne life had suggested.

Hearing all that sound, the Sir held unsteadily to the microphone. “I hope you will excuse the staginess of that first comment.” He looked chagrined. “I practiced it beforehand. Now I see that planning in advance what one intends to say always contains a bit of falseness. What seems right in advance may not be right when the time comes. I have no pre-written speech. And honestly, I don’t quite know why I am here. I guess because so many of my companions requested it.

“Please do not think that I come here today to bask in praise or because I feel I deserve any special honors. In my work with all of you I have had more honor than any rabbit is entitled to. That work, and the role in it that all of you have shared, is what we should honor today. My dream of the Demesne was always something that only others working together could create.”

Animal applause rose up from all corners of the meeting ground. Animals in or next to the Demesne Lake could be seen cheering as well.

The Sir waited for the applause to quiet. “But I also do not wish to present myself as any more humble or selfless than I have been. The Demesne was a dream I wanted to make real. I have come to see that pretending to be selfless, which I hope I never did, is a perverse way of trumpeting one’s own value. It is a kind of trickery available to any deceptive creature: to claim that I am nothing as a way of claiming more glory than I have earned. I have done what I have done. I say only the truth when I say that I could not have done any of it without all of you who have done it with me.”

All the animals looked on thoughtfully, appreciative of these modulating words.

“So I will say this: thank you for honoring me. It gives me the chance to honor you in return. If a book with my name on it can play a role in the cause we have struggled for, then I do not think so little of myself, or so much, that I would refuse to let it happen. I say only that, if it is my book, it is also yours. If I am in it, that is only because you are in it also.”

Cheers rose up from all around the stage and the lake. The Sir waved at everyone. He stepped back from the microphone.

Little Sy stepped forward again. “What many of you may not know,” Sy said, “is that before today, the Sir hasn’t read the book that is helping his story—and as he says, ours—reach those who otherwise wouldn’t know it. Here to present the Sir with his own copy of the book are, again, Stanley, Koala Lampur, and also Little Lampur.”

Stanley, and the mother and son koalas, stepped forward to the microphone. Stanley held in his hands a copy of the book. “May I present to you, Sir, this special copy of the book Conquest: Book One of Sir Sleepy of the Bunny Nest (A Saga of the Revolution). It has signatures from many animals whose names appear in it.”

The Sir had not known about the signatures. He stared surprised as Stanley put the book into his hands. The Sir held it, looking at its cover, then held it up so that everyone could see.

More cheering broke out. Then, “Read from it, read from it”: the chant began with a few voices, then grew louder.

The Sir fumbled a bit at the microphone. “I’m not sure…”

“Read from it!” the chant continued.

The Sir opened the book to a roar of approval. He looked at a page, turned away, looked again. His face shrunk away shyly from the page.

“Read from it!” the gathered animals encouraged him.

“Very well.” The Sir reached into his pocket and pulled something from it. He fitted the object down over his eyes and in front of his face. When he looked up again, he was wearing eyeglasses. The growing roar of the gathered animals ended abruptly.

“You will pardon me,” the Sir said. “Like many rabbits, my short distance eyesight has never been perfect. And for reasons I do not entirely understand, my long distance eyesight is not what it once was.”

The gathered animals were all looking at each other, surprise turning to recognition and sadness. “Could it be true?” they were asking, admitting with nods that it was so.

In the cause of the Demesne, Sir Sleepy of the Bunny Nest had lost his eyesight.

He began reading aloud. “In the morning’s first shards of light, a small rabbit, eyes thick with sleep, stuck his head through an opening in the wooden boards beside him. He wanted to welcome the universe. The darkly creased walls of a Beast shelter reared up forbidding around him.”

He stopped and looked at the animals who stood near him on stage. “An admirable place to begin, my dear Stanley. I thank you. No bunny has ever had more cause to be grateful.”

The gathered animals didn’t cheer at this. Instead they looked on silently, some reaching out to hold others, all realizing what they were seeing and hearing and stunned by its implications.

“Ah,” the Sir said. “My friends. Do not feel sadness for me if you are feeling it. I am alive. My life has been what I wished. If you must feel sadness, feel it for those animals who have not had the chance to live lives of energy and purpose and with good days in sunlight and rain. Feel even, if you can bear it, the sadness of the stunted lives of Beasts…. I mean, humans.”

The gathered animals startled. The Sir had just called Beasts by the name Beasts called themselves, one designed usually to highlight their sense of superiority.

 “I understand that it is not true for all of them,” the Sir said, “and certainly not for our welcome human guests today. But let us say what is so. No creature is as sad as those humans who know nothing of the sheer glorious aliveness of other animals. They know little of our light of being. It is only in their absolute incomprehension of their sadness, of their fear in the face of all they do not understand, that they seek to destroy our world, consciously and unconsciously. What they do can never be justified. But even as we resist them, we can always allow ourselves to understand them. It is finally our understanding of all that we encounter that will make us animals who can bring about a better world.”

Applause boomed from everywhere. The Sir waited for it to die down.

“I have one last thing to say. Then we can all return to being among each other in the ways that we would like. As you see, I am not the bunny I was. For everything I have lost though, I have gained something else. My body may be weaker but my mind is clearer than ever.

“It is because of knowing myself as I do, clearly, in the sunlight of this beautiful day, with my wonderful friends around me, that I am telling you all, now, that I am stepping away, permanently, from my day-to-day involvement in organizing and fighting on the front lines of the Demesne. Please,” he said among the sympathetic sounds of the gathered animals, “express whatever you wish to express. None of us are fully what we can be without allowing the whole range of our experience into our lives.

“Still I hope you will recognize, as I do, that today is a day for the celebration of the Demesne. I hope you will celebrate whatever role you feel I have had in it and the role you have had in it as well. I will do other things with you, I am sure, and will figure out what in time. I thank you. With that, I will rejoin all of you there, down on the ground of what I can truly say is my home. You have made it so. If I am Sir Sleepy of the Bunny Nest, then the Demesne, right here, will always be my nest. Be true to your spirit and to yourselves. Be true to this earth which is our home and to all who live upon it. It never crosses my mind to doubt that you will.”

Sir Sleepy of the Bunny Nest, for the moment not using his walking stick, moved away from the microphone. He came down from the stage and went out into the gathered animals. They loved him as much as he loved them.

[thinkingagain]

The first time he killed a man, he was 19. He had carefully watched for a few days a lone hunter known in his hometown for operating outside zoned hunting areas.

Sir Sleepy of the Bunny Nest (A Novel of the Revolution) Book Three: The Be Attitudes Chapter 27

Animal Sunrise 666 sat drinking in a bar in Roanoke, Virginia. There wasn’t much to do in Roanoke but drink, especially when your dreams had just been crushed.

From early in life, he had known that he believed in animals more than people. Whenever he could, he had collected the animals who visited him. Frogs, squirrels, rabbits, once even a baby fox. Of course he wasn’t allowed to bring them home to that red brick house where his parents sat usually silent until his father broke into a rage. His father had threatened more than once to kill them all. Milton—that was the false name his parents had given him—made various spots to keep the animals, holes in the ground that he would ring with rocks so they couldn’t get away and would be there when he came to feed them.

From then until now they had always talked to him. They told him more important things than any human did. They said the cause of animals was dire. To be an animal was to be never heard or left alone, to be made into a despised outsider. They needed help and he was the person they needed. He wouldn’t always be ignored and hated by everyone and he was going to be a hero for animals and because of them.

He left that red brick house in South Carolina for good when he was 16. Since then he had tried many things that would allow him to get closer to his dreams. He had worked on farms and ranches and at rodeos, letting animals loose when he could. He had been involved in raids on scientific testing centers that used animal specimens.

The first time he killed a man, he was 19. He had carefully watched for a few days a lone hunter known in his hometown for operating outside zoned hunting areas. He snuck up on the man in the woods, shot him once in the leg to bring him down, then picked up the man’s hunting rifle and beat him to death. What the hunter had done to animals he deserved to have done to him in return.

Animal Sunrise 666 had killed three other men in the years since, each in the way they deserved.

In order to go to college and get a degree in zoology, he worked different jobs. Whatever he needed to do he did, from temporary office work to waiting tables. For a few months he even had a lucrative stint selling guns at gun fairs. Student loans had done the rest.

Degree in hand, he went to work for an animal rights campaign and eventually an animal right’s organization. His firm commitment to animal rights at all costs (his “fiery conviction,” as one person said to him) helped him achieve a number of institutional successes. He also made many enemies among other professionals.

Two years ago now he had been forced out of public institutional roles defending animals. People told him he couldn’t control his rage. He knew they didn’t believe in the cause of animals as much as he did. By the time he was forced out, he no longer believed that the world of those polite, law-abiding activists could help much. He moved into the ranks of underground activists not afraid to break the law.

Animals still talked to him much of the day wherever he went. They spoke to him in his dreams too, telling him everything they needed him to do. He had come to realize that working with humans could take him only so far. What he needed was to work directly with the animals who sent him messages.

Like many with ties to the world of animal activism, he had received information early about the publication of a book called Conquest. The book was receiving significant mainstream notice, but more exciting information was passing through the underground world of those involved in illegal animal rights activities. They were often known to each other primarily through online aliases. He signed himself Animal Sunrise 666. No one knew that had been his real name all along, one that the animals had given him.

More than one person reported that the writers and producers of the book were active in deep level resistance in the name of animals and weren’t afraid of violent solutions. One or two messages even suggested that animals themselves were part of the resistance operations.

Animal Sunrise knew of course that animals were involved that way. The voices in his head had long told him what animals were doing and what they would do if he helped them. Still he had to be careful. Not surprisingly, some of the online messages were from borderline lunatics. He had been involved in the world of extreme animal defense long enough to know that there were people out there who believed really crazy things.

When rumors began that the character in the novel, Sir Sleepy, was an actual living animal and that all other characters in the book were real also, Animal Sunrise hesitated to believe it only briefly. He read the book again. This time, the animal voices in his head told him that every word was true.

Through online messages he learned that there was a celebration day coming for the rabbit hero of the tale. Animal Sunrise wanted to be at that celebration as badly as he had ever wanted anything. He hurried to the area where the magic land known as the Demesne was said to be. He found himself by the “Contaminated” warning signs and the high fences of a now vanished university. The animal voices in his head told him that finally he was at the gates of the magic land he had been seeking. Any moment now he would be a hero.

He had with him the contact information of a woman whose real name was unknown to him but who appeared in the book under the name of Madam.  “How do I join the celebration?” he had written her en route. “I’ve known about the Demesne a long time and want to serve it any way I can.” She didn’t answer him. When he wrote her again, she didn’t answer again.

So here he was in a bar in Roanoke drinking, listening to jukebox songs of heartbreak. He had been refused the chance to attend the celebration that he had been longing for his whole life. Why had they let him down, the Sir, and that Madam who worked with him, when all he wanted was to be their hero?

Heartbroken though he was, he was determined to ask them both face to face.

[thinkingagain]

“We would like to throw you a welcome back party,” Sy said. “We’ll invite animals from everywhere to join us.”

Sir Sleepy of the Bunny Nest (A Novel of the Revolution) Book Three: The Be Attitudes Chapter 26

Jack had first learned craftsmanship from making unique props during his film career. He had whittled the walking stick for Sir Sleepy of the Bunny Nest from sturdy oak wood and burnished it to last a long time. He had done fine etching on its bark and designed the handle as the bust of a forthright and generous rabbit. Sometimes the Sir carried the stick rather than using it to hold himself up. Whenever his back felt weak, the stick helped steady him. Walking around the Demesne, he said hello to everyone who greeted him.

One morning after the Sir had been out and about for a few days, Sy approached him with a new idea he and others had thought up. They had been talking about how to best re-involve the Sir in his public role on the Demesne. So far, Sy pointed out, the Sir hadn’t been willing to read a copy of Conquest: Book One of Sir Sleepy of the Bunny Nest (A Saga of the Revolution). He was embarrassed even to see it. Embarrassment was not an emotion most animals felt, but the Sir had developed many new emotions over the course of his journeys.

“We would like to throw you a welcome back party,” Sy said. “We’ll invite animals from everywhere to join us.”

“I don’t think I could…” the Sir stammered.

“It’s a chance for many animals to say or show something about how we feel about you and what you have meant to us. It’s not just a party for you. Your story is important to us and really I think to everyone. Many would like a chance to acknowledge that publicly. Group celebrations of our values are important in maintaining and highlighting our belief in each other. So it’s both a party for you and a good pro-animal activity.”

“I’m just not sure that I…”

“And if you don’t say yes, we’ll keep trying to persuade you until you do say yes.”

After a few minutes more of that the Sir gave up protesting. He bowed as well as he could with his slightly stiff back. “I am honored that you would think of me this way.”

Sy, with help, put plans for the celebration in motion. He extended a general invitation to any animal who wanted to be there. He gave specific invitations to those animals who were asked to perform some part of the celebration. Sy asked if the Sir would mind knowing only about the role he would have to play, whether the rest could be left for him to find out the day of the celebration. The Sir didn’t even try to refuse.

In the two days before the celebration, animals of all kinds from all over the world began arriving at the Demesne. There was as always necessary resistance work being done by animals everywhere, but many felt that taking several days out to honor an animal who had been a powerful inspiration was a worthwhile and exciting activity.

The animals arriving from many places were often meeting for the first time others whom they had heard about. “You sure showed them what a Bear market means,” one said to Green Bear. Others greeted Muffin with eager hugs and kisses and did their own routines. It turned out that quite a few animals felt that they too were multiple animals.

Students and scholars of Beast language tactics had many questions and ideas for Koala Lampur and Stanley. More than one animal with a fascination regarding technology talked with Lucky about new possible inventions. Communicators and ambassadors chattered away at Ling Ling and Maximillian; Beast and animal psychology experts shared insights with Matilda; philosopher animals talked thoughtfully with Leo; actors and set designers discussed their performance ideas with Jack.

Those who were less talkative but who enjoyed the fellowship of their comrades lounged quietly with Young Mountain Goat and Frank. Large numbers of frogs and koalas mingled with everyone and there was a significant contingent of pandas. The Demesne Lake was full of bobbing fish and whales. There were even a few lone hunter animals who enjoyed the festivities from shadowed corners where they quietly exchanged anecdotes or sometimes no more than friendly glances with El Tigre and The Rattler.

The Sir, resting in the days before the celebration, his companion Thomas wrapped as always in the folds of his shirt, saw all this with pleasure from his not-too-distant hilltop seclusion. The Sir and Thomas shared the wonderful cheer of it with Sy and other Demesne friends who looked in on him briefly.

One thing surprised and startled the Sir the most. He felt uncertain and mused upon it and concluded that it could only be for the best.

Arriving on the Demesne the day before the celebration were a small number of Beasts. They were friends and contacts that Madam had made in the time after her arrival on the Demesne. All had been doing pro-animal work for a while. All had read the new book on the Sir and had passed it along to others. Most were Beast Madams. They moved with joviality and ease among the gathered animals. A few were younger Beast males and there were even several older males who, apparently, had been working for animals in their own quiet magic ways for years.

Some animals were surprised to see them, and wary and concerned. Others seemed to know them already and greeted them in the same way as all who believed in their cause.

When Madam stopped by to say hello to the Sir that day, they sat down together and he asked about it. “I am glad to see them all, of course, if you are sure they are trustworthy.”

“Oh yes.” Madam petted his ears reassuringly. “All of them can be trusted as much as the rest of our friends.”

“At many points in my life,” the Sir said, “I would not have believed it. Even now, after having lived among Beasts so much and having had the Commandant-mind lodged within my own, my instinct is to be wary. I wonder if I shall ever be able to be more immediately generous.”

“I appreciate what you’re saying, Sir. I don’t think anyone should be judged on their instincts. All of us learn from others growing up, and the lessons aren’t always good. Many are hard to unlearn. I think maybe the best we can do is recognize that our instincts can be problems. We don’t have to act on them. We can change.”

“I am pleased that I feel that is true. I am glad that you trust me and the Demesne enough, and these new friends of yours enough, to be willing to bring us all together.”

“Oh Sir. You don’t know how happy it makes me to be able to help you and the Demesne. But maybe you know a little about it?”

“Maybe a little.” The Sir nodded shyly. “Your happiness with it feels to me like such a high honor, I can barely express my gratitude.”

Madam laughed and scratched the Sir behind his ears. He sat with her a few moments further, quietly, his body plumped out on the ground with satisfaction.

[thinkingagain]

In the morning he would wake and look around at the precise beauty and information of the landscape and the sky. He would feel the thrill of his rabbit heart beating in his chest. He would sit quietly, empty his mind and fill it again.

Sir Sleepy of the Bunny Nest (A Novel of the Revolution) Book Three: The Be Attitudes Chapter 25

Word about the recovery of Sir Sleepy of the Bunny Nest quickly reached far beyond the Demesne. Animals told each other the news and passed the information to all who asked. They had been inspired by stories like the Sir’s and that of the great Mei Xiang and those of the other brave animals who had done and were doing so much to resist the destructiveness of Beasts.

Of course, the news was hardly the only new development in the world. Organized animal resistance continued to prevent many Beast assaults against animals and against the environments in which those animals lived. News about the Sir’s recovery helped many animals feel that there was hope and power in their cause. Animals weren’t worshippers of heroes and they didn’t try to make any individual animal more important than that animal was. But the Sir’s story was unique and powerful, even while much of it was not his story alone, but also that of his companions. That too made the story powerful.

Conquest: Book One of Sir Sleepy of the Bunny Nest (A Saga of the Revolution) was being read by more and more Beasts. Some loved the adventure story. Some hated it. Some saw inspiration to act to defend animals in danger. Some saw ridiculous, anti-Beast propaganda.

In the weeks after waking from the coma, the Sir kept up with the necessary physical, emotional, and intellectual therapy that his continued recovery required. He took to living in solitude in a small quiet corner of the Demesne woods. There was a stream nearby, trees and vegetation for shade, and sunny spots where he could warm himself.

In the morning he would wake and look around at the precise beauty and information of the landscape and the sky. He would feel the thrill of his rabbit heart beating in his chest. He would sit quietly, empty his mind and fill it again.

He was seen by no one except a few friends on the Demesne who brought him meals and news and, when he wanted it, conversation. By all accounts he was recovering as well as could expected given the severity of his wounds.

At last he felt that it was time to go out into the public of the Demesne again and into the larger publics of the animal magic beyond the Demesne whose work was so important to him.

On the day when Sir Sleepy of the Bunny Nest finally walked out from his hidden corner of the Demesne, he was wearing his gold suit with blue stars. His friends welcomed him. A little grizzly looked out from the open shirt of his suit, staring around with excitement and consternation by turns. The Sir carried as always his fine sword etched with images of scampering bunnies.

And because of the stiffness in his lower back and his legs from the shooting, when he walked he used a stick to steady himself.

[thinkingagain]

“Fear and anger are closely related to love.” Matilda’s ears twitched. “They often come from the way love has been prevented or denied.”

Sir Sleepy of the Bunny Nest (A Novel of the Revolution) Book Three: The Be Attitudes Chapter 24

Sir Sleepy of the Bunny Nest was sitting quietly on the ground, his blanket still pulled over him. Love Frog moved his frog arms and legs along the Sir’s fur, sensing, pausing, contemplating. At last Love Frog stepped away and sat near Madam. Busterella snuggled tightly against her side.

A few other Demesne animals, Sy, Leo, and Matilda, were there, watching closely. News had passed across the Demesne that the Sir had woken from his coma. Everyone was excited but concerned and held back from overwhelming the Sir with their greetings.

“How do you feel, Sir?” Madam asked.

“A bit stiff.” The Sir moved his shoulders back and forth and wriggled his hind legs. “Plus some soreness in the lower back. The wound itself is a dull throb. Not actively painful but still present.”

“Present like all bunnies have to be the moment they wake up?” Little Sy choked back a sob of happy tenderness. “We’re glad you’ve come back to us.”

“Where have I been?” The Sir looked at his friends, trying to understand. “I’m afraid I don’t know what happened or has been happening.”

“You were shot,” Sy said, “by a lone deranged Beast gunman. You’ve been lying in a coma for weeks.”

The Sir took in the news slowly and carefully. “Ah, Sy. Thank you for telling me. A deranged Beast, you say. I take it you mean there was only one Beast actor rather than an organized plot?”

“Right,” Sy said. “There was an organized plot too, which didn’t work. The one who shot you was too deranged to work any way but alone. Which made it more dangerous, as it turned out.”

“How are things going on our Demesne?”

“Well enough. We’ve missed your leadership and your spirit and most of all you yourself. Beasts are still destroying the world. But the Demesne survives and is fighting back wherever it can.”

“I am pleased to hear it,” the Sir said. “And most impressed, Sy, with your leadership.”

Sy bowed in such a way that for a moment one might have mistaken the little koala for the little rabbit he was talking to. “I’ve had a great teacher.”

Matilda the beautiful hippo was watching the Sir carefully. “What goes on in that bunny brain of yours?”

“My mind feels tired,” the Sir said. “As if it has struggled even more than the rest of my body, if that’s possible. But some things are definitely different.”

“You certainly seem different,” Matilda said. “You don’t have any marks of a bunny spirit at odds with itself.”

“I do feel strangely calm. And it seems like I now know things I didn’t before and remember things I had forgotten. I think I’ve seen some images of where I was born and where I spent the first brief part of my life before I began my journey.”

Matilda’s hippo ears perked up and the other gathered animals also listened intently. “What images did you see?”

“I’ll  probably never know all of it.” The Sir looked at his paws as if trying to figure out where his memory might be hiding. “There were other rabbits and a wonderful little Madam and the rage of a Beast. I think the Beast set fire to its own home, maybe because other Beasts were about to take that home away. A Beast who was hit by tragedy made the tragedy worse."

“Many of us,” Leo kept his usual booming and joyous rabbit voice quiet and even, “have wondered where you came from and why you didn’t know anything about it.”

“I’m not sure who any of them were,” the Sir said. “Were the large rabbits my parents? I think it’s likely, but I don’t know. But maybe most startling”—here he blushed, looking at the Madam out of one shy corner of his eye—“is that I was not born fearing and loathing Beasts. I loved them. Or at least one of them.”

The other animals all looked surprised at once, Madam most of all.

‘And then one of them,” the Sir said, “wrapped up in its own pain, itself caused by the destructiveness of other Beasts, destroyed the life I was living, the life I maybe even loved.” The Sir’s eyes wavered, watery.

“Fear and anger are closely related to love.” Matilda’s ears twitched. “They often come from the way love has been prevented or denied.”

“I have learned that it is so,” the Sir said.

“A rabbit mind that doesn’t know where it has come from is a rabbit mind that will struggle to know itself,” Leo said. “Although I guess knowing where we come from doesn’t necessarily make self-knowledge any easier.”

“It is not easiness we want, my big Bunny friend,” the Sir said.

“No indeed,” Leo agreed. “But a rabbit mind that can never relax will have a lot more to fight while it decides what to do about living.”

“My mind has not been relaxed in a while.” The Sir took in a big breath of morning air. “Doubt, turmoil. I have been struggling with a constant bombarding of opposites. I have been searching for something that is neither of those opposites.”

“Certainly an either/or mentality is one of the key mental traps of Beasts.” Leo nodded thoughtfully. “If I pick one thing, I must reject another. It’s sloppy and indulgent.”

“That kind of thinking, by Beasts and by myself, frankly, affected me long before my recent problems with The Commandant-mind,” the Sir said. “That’s one of the things my recent dreams have shown me.”

“That’s your first mention of the Commandant-mind since you woke,” Matilda said. “I’ve been wondering about it.”

“I’ve been wondering about it too.” The Sir patted himself. “I do not feel sure. But right now I am getting no impressions of its presence. I do not hear it trying to tell me anything.”

“The Commandant-mind has gone silent?” Matilda asked.

“I’m not sure,” the Sir said. “I think it may have just gone.”

Matilda and the others startled at this news. “It’s not there at all?” she asked.

“If it is I can’t find it. Or it’s not finding me.”

“That’s strange.” Matilda looked at him closely. “But if true, you—we—are all very lucky. Still I find it hard to believe that physical trauma would be enough to force the Commandant-mind out of you.”

The Sir shook his head. “I don’t feel like anything has been forced out of me. If anything I feel done with forcing. I can no longer divide up the world into Beast and not-Beast. That doesn’t mean I’m not aware of the damages of Beasts. I know those damages must be resisted. But I am more aware that my fight is not against the essential and unavoidable heart of all Beasts but against the principles and practices of specific Beasts and the horrors those practices carry with them. There is nothing unavoidable about Beast behavior. There are massive and deadly Beast societies. There are specific Beast histories, beliefs, and practices. There are dangerous Beast groups and Beast individuals. All must be recognized and challenged, but my struggle is not against the fact that Beasts exist.”

“I think that’s true,” Leo said. “Can you say why, during your long sleep, your thinking changed?”

“If I struggle against particular Beasts,” the Sir said, “it is not because I hate them. It is because I wish to love them. From the moment I understood that—in my dreams—the Commandant-mind seems to have vanished. The Commandant-mind was addicted to opposition, I think. The biggest one being that nothing in the universe is as important as the Commandant-mind itself and so it’s the universe that’s the problem.”

“I hope you’ll keep a close lookout for any sign of it coming back,” Matilda said. “The Commandant, when alive, was expert at lurking.”

“You can be sure I shall do so. But if I find anything, I will not do it in the spirit of trying to fight against that mind. I have come to feel that it is only by acknowledging our worst urges, and the terrible pain we have felt and witnessed, that any animal can offer a better way forward.”

Leo hummed a loud, hearty rabbit hum. “Maybe you have grown wise, Sir. Although it’s not always clear what wisdom is. I wonder how your new perspective will change how you live and what you do.”

“I’m wondering that too. And I think that maybe you, Leo, would understand.”

“Understand what?”

“I’m not sure right now if I’ll ever again be able to raise my sword and harm any Beast with it.” The Sir looked at his sword, recalling so many things, brave and terrible both, that it had helped him do. “I could be wrong. I still know that many Beasts need swords raised against them. But it could be that my fighting days are done.”

[thinkingagain]

There was a rabbit born of a rabbit born of a rabbit. Each one had to come from somewhere and go somewhere.

Sir Sleepy of the Bunny Nest (A Novel of the Revolution) Book Three: The Be Attitudes Chapter 23

Fire rushed across a field of dry grass. At the back of the field stood a red brick Beast abode neatly kept. In his dream, Sir Sleepy of the Bunny Nest watched the fire and the house from a hidden dark spot smelling of drying earth.

The dream shifted. He saw two larger rabbits, adults, and he saw his small limbs backing away from theirs, trying to find space. Luckily there was space to be found. He and the other rabbits were sitting in a large, comfortable-looking enclosure with a red portico that made it look like a palace. Fresh hay sat on the ground and large bowls of water stood in two different corners of the cage.

A little Beast Madam walked up to the edge of the cage, opened the door and greeted him gently with a stroke above his nose and then one on his forehead.

The dream shifted. Nearby, in a voice echoing through what sounded like a large barn, a loud Beast voice shouted in angry despair. “They’ve taken everything from me. I have nothing left. Nothing.” Somewhere in the darkness, metal thudded against wood.

The dream shifted. Near him two larger rabbits ate slowly and carefully and calmly, a fence-like shadow checkering the ground just beyond them. A Beast voice rose up, not far off. “I don’t know what to do.”

The dream shifted. The calm swishing of a stream flowed smoothly into his hearing. Then he could see the stream, and around it, grass and trees and rocks. “My bunny lies over the ocean,” a little Beast Madam was singing to him, “my bunny lies over the sea. My bunny lies over the ocean, oh bring back my bunny to me.” He wanted to stay by the stream forever listening to the little Madam.

The dream images wouldn’t stop moving. There was nowhere he could stay. Everything was always changing.

He found himself huddled up against other rabbits, some large, some small, while the sky darkened and eventually thundered. Lightning struck the ground.

The dream shifted. Flames, close behind him, sent an acrid metallic smell careening into the sky. He ran and ran and ran. At last he outran the flames, even outran their smell. He found himself a cool, wet spot of ground behind and underneath some boards that some Beast had put together awkwardly to make a barn.

The dream shifted. The sound of a grown Beast Madam saying, “Don’t do this,” cut the air sharply.

“Who am I?” the Sir said aloud to his dream. There was no answer.

A little grizzly in his pocket had a little grizzly in his pocket who had a little grizzly in his pocket. There was a rabbit born of a rabbit born of a rabbit. Each one had to come from somewhere and go somewhere.

There was a grown Beast, wailing, holding an axe it was slamming into the side of a barn. “Think you’re going to take it from me?” the Beast screamed. “By the time you do, there won’t be anything to take.”

Was that what it was to be a Beast? To wish in a rage to erase the things you had made, the people you had known, the life you had lived? To erase yourself? To erase all existence by throwing flame at the sky?

Then what was it to be a rabbit? To exist with the things of the ground and the air, to drink water, to run from fire? Was it also to recognize that nothing could be separate from what a rabbit was? And that included Beasts?

The answer to what a rabbit was didn’t lie in the things that a rabbit could cast away, escape, hide from, fight against, take revenge on. What was he was trying to push away?

What was it that he didn’t want to know and how was it connected to what he did want to know?

The dream images slowed, sped up, slowed, sped up. He was sitting. Eating. Listening. Running. Fighting.

He had been born. Near two other rabbits who had watched him grow. A brick house. A young Beast Madam who had loved him. A barn. Then the bellowing of a wounded Beast, defeated, fighting to destroy what had already been taken. Then a terrible burning that erased it all. The Sir’s ears grew hot as he tried to escape the roaring flames.

He shuddered, startled, gasped, opened his eyes.

Madam was watching him closely, a book open in her lap. “Sir? You’re looking at me. Do you see me? Are you awake?”

The Sir saw her three totem animals next to her. Little Sy was also watching intently. The comforting fragrances of the Demesne drifted along his face. He was surrounded by bright and burgeoning color, green and blue and red under the bold rays of the sun.

“I believe I am awake.” The Sir blinked, amazed. “It’s hard to be sure, but I believe I’m more awake than I’ve ever been.”

[thinkingagain]

Advertisements for the book, with lurid drawings and melodramatic slogans, appeared in major newspapers in multiple countries. Well-drawn cartoon images included pictures of the Sir, in his pajamas with stars, walking firmly with his sword across a wrecked and polluted industrial landscape.

Sir Sleepy of the Bunny Nest (A Novel of the Revolution) Book Three: The Be Attitudes Chapter 22

Later that week, Conquest: Book One of Sir Sleepy of the Bunny Nest (A Saga of the Revolution) arrived in bookstores all over the English-speaking world. Translated versions in French and Chinese arrived in bookstores in many other countries.

The book was put in bookstore windows with large pictures of Sir Sleepy of the Bunny Nest on posters along with the cover.

Advertisements for the book, with lurid drawings and melodramatic slogans, appeared in major newspapers in multiple countries. Well-drawn cartoon images included pictures of the Sir, in his pajamas with stars, walking firmly with his sword across a wrecked and polluted industrial landscape. Another showed a little rabbit barely avoiding a Beast slamming a shovel into the dirt. Another showed a small gang of rabbits striking heroic stances and looking out at a hilltop covered with a mass of foreboding shadowy figures. Another, quite common, showed the same small gang of rabbits walking together through a wooded field while grimacing Beast zombies rushed at them from trees.

The most common though was a picture of the Sir, bloody sword raised high, slashing his way through heavily armed Beasts screaming at him with outraged mouths open wide.

Other advertisements featured slogans rather than pictures or combined the two. “The Bunny You Think is Your Enemy is the Only One Who Can Save You” read one. Another read, “They Could Not Save Themselves” above a picture of a rabbit with a sword, and below it, “So He Would Have To Save Them.” One read starkly: “Sir Sleepy of the Bunny Nest: A Saga of the Revolution.”

The book debuted at #12 on The New York Times Bestseller List. After the first week it jumped to #5.

Reviews appeared in a number of major newspapers a week before the book arrived in stores. Most agreed that the tale was a surprising, thrilling, high energy adventure, with more philosophical content than was usual in genre work. Some suggested that the story was ridiculous and unbelievable from the beginning.

There was also disagreement about whether the main character rabbit and his friends were sympathetic heroes. Some reviewers found they were, saying things like, “Even when the anger against human beings in the book seems most extreme, the characters of Sir Sleepy and his friends, murderous though they may be, are nonetheless likable. One cannot help but identify with this group of wily killer rabbits trying to save themselves and their planet from destruction.” Others disagreed, saying that, “The unremitting harshness of the rabbits towards their human enemies makes it difficult to care about their adventures. The author has an axe to grind that overwhelms the sense of story.”

The most divisive commentary in the reviews focused on the ideas guiding the novel. “Such an inventive way of teaching respect for the environment and a need to protect the resources of an endangered world,” one reviewer wrote. Another wrote, “The elements of terror are used here with a lighter hand than might have been expected; ultimately, this is a life-affirming tale about the power that friendship has to change the world.” However, just as many reviews rejected, sometimes angrily, what they took to be the tale’s implications. “The book is little more” one reviewer wrote, “than an excuse for typical left-wing propaganda in its dislike not just of white people and white men in particular, but of the human race more generally. The book attacks all the technological advances of the last 50 years and more in the name of sentimental and unconvincing values.” Another argued that, “The book seems more deeply committed to the fantasy of animals saving the planet than is conceivably possible. At moments it feels oddly like the author genuinely believes such a thing.”

A few were harsher: “Children can hardly be the intended audience for a book this vicious. Still, anybody over 10 will only scoff at the strawman world view on display.”

There wasn’t a single reviewer who took the book to be a work of non-fiction documentary.

As was predicted by Green Bear and Basil’s demographic analysis, after a few strong weeks high on the Bestseller list the novel settled into a steady sales pattern in a lower rung on the list. The book had unforgettable flair, but other books with more brutality or sleaziness or focus on the hot topics of the moment were better attuned to consistently catching the attention of larger numbers of Beasts.

Still the goal of the book was hardly to achieve record-breaking sales, even though it sold well. The goal was to create readers who would understand what they were reading and take action.

Along with its popular success, the book was already reaching those who were reading it not just for entertainment. A number of intellectual and academic readers saw in the book opportunities for discussion of important issues. Some, after reading it, began writing articles about it or planning classes that would use it as a key text.

A few political activist leaders, and then a few more, began to spread the word about the book’s timeliness and usefulness as a blueprint for possible actions, legal or potentially illegal.

Here and there, for different reasons, a small set of readers, mostly people of no obvious significance in the world, recognized the possibility that events in the book actually could have happened. Because of their own special capabilities, they knew that a network of magic animal activity could in fact be real. They thought they might be able to join it or somehow help.

[thinkingagain]

Unseen and unheard, a lone figure in black commando gear appeared on the Demesne. He had seen the portal coordinate trick before, several times, in non-animal situations. He scoffed at the inexperienced commando team taken in by it.

Sir Sleepy of the Bunny Nest (A Novel of the Revolution) Book Three: The Be Attitudes Chapter 21

Lucky Blue took off his headphones and looked at Jack. “It worked. Easily and effectively.” Beside him, the Demesne underground technology was humming along.

“And maybe not for the last time,” Jack rubbed one of his long legs in the dust to clean it. “Movie sets have lots of uses. Abandoned ones too.”

“I see how they come in handy,” Lucky said. “Just a quick intercept and alteration of portal coordinates removes a whole assault force with no effort at all.”

“The likeness is pretty exact,” Jack said. “Green Bear spared no expense on the recreation. Not that the land and landscaping cost more than a tiny bit of the resources he has.”

“I’d like to go up there some time,” Lucky said. “Walk around, really check it out.”

“You could hike up in about two days. It’s a pleasant walk.”

“Maybe I will,” Lucky said. “I haven’t taken any long walks in a while.”

Jack nodded. “It’s a nice night here, isn’t it?” He sighed. “Seems so anyway. I’m off to sleep in a moment.” His rabbit limbs drew themselves up more anxiously. “Think the Sir is going to be okay?”

Lucky shook his head. “I don’t know. Nobody does.”

----

Sir Sleepy of the Bunny Nest lay, asleep, on the grounds of the Demesne that he loved so well. His breathing came harshly at moments, in strained gasps, then would calm. He was obviously in pain. As far as anyone around him could tell though, he didn’t seem to be dying. It was good that he was able to sleep.

After having done his best to help him survive, Love Frog had gone off for his own long sleep in one of his favorite nearby muddy ponds, throwing mud over himself like a healing ointment. Madam, with Busterella beside her and Sir Henry patrolling nearby, had insisted on being first to watch the Sir. She had stayed by his side for a few hours until she got too tired. Now Matilda was sitting there, providing her power, serenity, and healing nature. Young Mountain Goat, necessary for quickness in case of attack, was sleeping close by. Macalister and Smoochie, both obviously used to night frog duty, had taken over guarding the nearby terrain.

The Sir breathed on, unevenly, oblivious to all who cared for him.

----

Unseen and unheard, a lone figure in black commando gear appeared on the Demesne. He had seen the portal coordinate trick before, several times, in non-animal situations. He scoffed at the inexperienced commando team taken in by it. He could work better without them. Those who had been decoyed would be his decoys. He headed where he had to go, avoiding straight lines that would make him easier to follow. No one had ever followed him successfully. Finding him accidentally had several times been deadly to others.

----

Ling Ling, Leo, and Maximillian were talking quietly on a patch of ground behind some stones. ‘I can’t read him right now at all.” Ling Ling shook her head sadly. “His mind is far away.”

“Perhaps it has to be.” Leo stretched his legs along the ground. “The animal mind often seeks a larger vista when removed from immediate practical concerns. Or when it is struggling to recover or seeking a reason to live.”

“The news has gotten out fast.” Maximillian was standing at rest the way penguins do. “Good wishes for the Sir are pouring in from many points of contact.”

“Good animal wishes always help.” Ling Ling nodded cautiously. “The air is full with them. But do they help enough?”

“We’ll find out,” Leo said.

“You’re really able to remain philosophical about it.” Ling Ling said, no sassiness in her voice. “I don’t know whether to be impressed or annoyed.”

“Thinking can’t be all that important if you can’t use it during a bad time,” Leo said. “It should never come without feeling, of course. I’m worried too.”

Maximillian shook tension from his flippers. “All these animals we know, all over the world, and sometimes not one of us can do anything. I guess there are limits even to our magic powers.”

“More of them than we realize,” Leo said.

----

There was much consternation in the technology control room at Animal Unlimited. “Nothing?” the Nephew was saying to the other Beasts in the room huddled tightly by their monitors. “Abandoned? How can that be?” He looked around the room, waiting. No answers came. “And what about…?” He stopped, but the others seemed to know what he was referring to.

In the air vents, three cats were listening. They heard the hanging question and waited for some Beast in the control room to answer it. No answer came.

----

With the Sir gravely hurt, there was no one to watch the Demesne Beast except Muffin.

The Beast’s behavior had been notable since shortly after the wounded Sir had been brought back to the Demesne. Muttering to itself, occasionally sighing then emitting long groans: that was hardly exceptional. Still its quivering and discomfort seemed different. It kept looking around as if asking if it could be of help. Muffin tried to calm it, patting its back, scratching its head, rapping it on the nose if it seemed tempted to howl. Even late into the night the Beast still rolled on the ground, agitated in its sleep.

“Is it possible,” Muffin said to it softly, “that you are concerned about the Sir?”

In its sleep the Beast rolled over and mumbled, “Nobody loves me.”

----

“Lampy can’t sleep,” Koala Lampur said to Little Sy. “Looks like you can’t either.” Nearby, the shadow of a few high rocks was slightly darker than the night sky.

“I dropped off for a few hours.” Sy’s expression was bleary. “So much to organize tomorrow. But it’s not that. I just feel uneasy.”

“I understand.” Koala Lampur gave Sy a soothing scratch. “I don’t know if our hoping helps him. But it may help us, and not hoping can’t help anyone.”

“But ma, there’s something else.” Little Lampur spoke up adamantly. “I saw it. Or no, I didn’t see it. Felt it.”

Koala Lampur went taut with alertness. “You did?” She looked at Sy. “Lampy’s very sensitive. He saved us on our travels more than once.”

Sy considered Little Lampur’s adamant stance. “What do you feel now?”

“Nothing,” Little Lampur said. “But I did.”

----

He had managed to achieve a kind of anti-fame that had helped him become indispensable in many conflicts either with animals or with others of his kind. Almost no one knew of him. Some knew of his efforts without knowing who had performed them. Some attributed his actions to various sources, some to one unknown source. The few who knew of him knew no name for him. They invented names for him, but none of their names were his. No one knew his history.

He could hear animals at least as well as they could hear him as long as the range wasn’t too great. And he had much more experience than many of them. He listened to the sounds of those who were guarding nearby in the night. Whenever they came near to sensing him, he slipped away.

----

Madam startled awake. She was holding Busterella tightly. That brave koala had helped her go to sleep and was sleeping soundly herself but woke the instant after Madam did. Sir Henry the Valiant, standing in his sleep nearby, rustled also. “Something is terrible,” Madam said, then she was fully awake, remembering. “Can we go sit with him again?” she asked her two friends.

----

“You understand,” Leo said to Ling Ling and Maximillian, “that it’s not the quality of leadership that can never be replaced. It’s the unique individual animal, the whole bundle of traits by which each of us is marked as like no other before us and none after.

“It is, I think, proof of the magic of the universe. Qualities may be interchangeable, but the combination of them is, for each, unique over the whole vastness of space and time. None of us, as wise as we might think ourselves, could have imagined the Sir. He can only imagine himself. And much of who he is, like all of us, lies beyond even his own imagination.”

----

“They’ve all returned and reported,” a Beast in the technology control room said to the Nephew, who had just walked in. “Except the one.”

“And what have you heard from him?”

“Still nothing.”

“We’ll hear from him,” the Nephew said, “if he succeeds and wants to be paid. And if he doesn’t succeed, who cares whether we hear from him?”

The three cats in the air vents looked at each other. Clearly at least one Beast was still operating in the field. One of the cats rushed off towards the outside, hoping to reach a spot where Ling Ling could be contacted.

----

Madam, with Busterella and Henry beside her, walked up to the Sir. She scratched Matilda’s back and said, “I’d like to watch some more.” Matilda grunted sympathetically and walked over to where Young Mountain Goat was sleeping and lay down next to him. Madam waved at Macalister and Smoochie. They waved back. Smoochie came up and gave her a quick frog kiss. She found a soft spot in the grass and sat there, her totem friends beside her, watching the Sir breathe.

----

Through the woods, he came to the final set of trees that opened onto the field where his target lay under blankets, asleep and struggling to breathe. Next to his target sat an actual human woman; he startled, only for a moment. His heat-seeking goggles showed her outline clearly. He sensed the frogs on lookout, noting their alertness, and felt their senses kick in. He moved just beyond their range, preparing to come in at another angle.

----

Macalister saw Smoochie snap alert before he himself noticed anything. He felt the other vibration a moment later. Was a Beast lurking somewhere? An instant short of certainty, the impression vanished. If it was a Beast, it had made the smallest impression of itself that Macalister had ever encountered. Still, a small impression was not no impression. Macalister signaled that he would investigate and that Smoochie should stay by the Sir and alert those nearby.

----

They knew he might be there on the Demesne, he could tell. They didn’t know for sure. They certainly didn’t know where exactly on the grounds he was. His rifle, which he had assembled soon after arriving on the Demesne grounds, was ready. He knew what spot he had to reach in order to make his final preparations.

----

Jack and Lucky walked out of the Magic Animal Underground Bunker. Jack’s long jackrabbit ears jumped out fully and his nose went alert. “Know what I’m thinking?”

Lucky, whose physical senses had been dulled by his work and had never been as acute as other rabbits, saw Jack’s alertness. “Maybe.”

“We got rid of them too easily.”

“Yes,” Lucky said, instantly sure.

“And also,” Jack said, “there ought to be at least something lumbering around out here. It’s too quiet.”

----

He put himself in the spot he needed. He set his balance, both with his body and with the rifle. He could be in this spot for maybe, at most, two minutes, before one of the animals would sense him. When he moved again, to the shooting spot, they would know; there was no way to do that unnoticed. There would be only the few seconds between when he arrived at the shooting spot and when they did. That was more than he needed.

----

Young Mountain Goat heard the rustling and knew instantly, even from sleep, what kind of creature it was. Then he was fully awake and on his feet.

Busterella, whose only concern had been the Madam, saw her goat friend and followed him.

Searching a bit farther out in the woods, Macalister and Smoochie heard the others get in motion and turned in the direction their friends were running. At that instant, they both noted the presence of the Beast they had thought might be there.

Farther away, Jack, with Lucky Blue beside him, sensed sudden animal desperation from many spots. “We’re already too late. Hurry.”

----

“Wait,” Ling Ling said to Leo. “Message coming through.” Leo paused, questioning. Ling Ling listened inside herself, then she looked outward. “News from the cats at Animal Love Unlimited. There may be a Beast here.”

“And none of us has noticed?”

“I guess not yet. Let me check.”

----

Animals were charging him from multiple directions, only instants away.

The green point of light moved for a moment over the blanket, then settled directly onto the target’s forehead. The mechanism locked in.

His finger found the trigger at the same moment that he felt right next to him, without hearing it, a tiny animal. He hadn’t detected it under the comparative roar of the others. The same small animal thudded lightly against the side of the barrel just as his finger touched the trigger. It was impossible to know which happened first. He saw the shot tear through the blanket inches beside the target.

He rolled all the way over, once, setting up for another clear shot. A somewhat bigger animal, hardly large, kicked the barrel a few inches to the right.

He let go of the rifle and got to his feet just as other animals, a half dozen or more, surrounded his spot in the leaves.

----

“Lampy!” Koala Lampur shouted, the discarded rifle at her feet. “Where are you?”

“Right here, Ma. I told you, didn’t I? I stopped the shot, didn’t I? I’m sorry I didn’t let you know before I ran. I hoped you’d realize. I hoped you’d follow me. There was no extra time at all.”

“I didn’t know, not for sure. But I followed you.”

“Was it you who kicked the gun away? I got covered in leaves.”

“It was,” she said.

----

Young Mountain Goat slammed his head into the Beast’s shoulder, knocking it to the ground. It was already rolling before the hit happened. It spun quickly to its feet and darted behind a tree.

Busterella spun around behind the tree, punching furiously. Only one punch landed as the Beast darted away.

Smoochie jumped in behind the Beast’s knees. Macalister pushed it backwards. Just before the Beast started to fall, it managed an awkward backflip and landed on its feet. There was a pistol in its hand. It raised the pistol. Covering the last yards in nearly no time, Jack took a long jump into the air and kicked the pistol from the Beast’s hand. Jack landed, turned, steadied himself for another jump, this one to go for the jugular.

The Beast dived behind a tree, rolled, jumped up, disappeared behind several trees.

All the animals converged on the spot, nearly at once.

The Beast was gone.

The animals saw several sets of Beast boot prints. The prints showed no clear direction for the Beast’s escape.

----

Through the commotion, the Sir slept on, his breathing coming more easily for longer stretches of time, and the gasping ending more quickly.

----

Within minutes, all the animals had gathered to talk about what had happened.

“I never saw a Beast move like that,” Jack said. “As quick as any of us.”

“Not quite quick enough to outsmart Little Lampy,” Koala Lampur said.

The other animals heartily agreed. Little Lampur’s sensitivity and response time had saved the Sir.

“Still,” Sy held out a paw of thanks to Little Lampur, who grasped it happily, “a Beast quick enough to elude us all? Not a good development.”

“Our own magic has gotten stronger,” Leo said cryptically.

“Meaning?” Sy asked.

“Meaning,” Leo said, “that it’s inevitable that some of the counter-magic will get stronger too. We don’t know, right now, where this Beast, with its clear sensory-superiority to other Beasts, has come from. But we haven’t seen it for the last time. And others like it may be coming.”

[thinkingagain]

The assault force goals were clear, their coordinates locked in.

Sir Sleepy of the Bunny Nest (A Novel of the Revolution) Book Three: The Be Attitudes Chapter 20

The assault force dropped inside the Demesne just after nightfall. Their black gear made them nearly invisible under the slivered moon. They faded silently into nothingness among the trees. There was no bombarding of the Demesne, no mental or holographic tricks. Just four dozen Beasts. Within moments, they had split up and vanished into the dark of the Demesne grounds.

The Demesne was as silent as they were. No scurrying in the brush, no clandestine surprises from any animal anywhere on the ground. The birds in the trees, if there were any, had gone to sleep. There was no sound other than crickets and a few frogs; even those were oddly muted.

The assault force goals were clear, their coordinates locked in. They took positions behind rocks and on key spots along the Demesne hills.

One of the assault teams reached, without resistance, the entrance to the Beast Media room and the other rooms in the underground caverns. They walked into the caverns, into an absolute darkness they needed flashlights to penetrate. There were no animals in the caverns and except for several paw prints of various sizes, few signs of recent animal activity. Information had suggested that technology of various kinds would be in the caverns. There was none.

“There’s nothing and no one here,” the leader of the assault team radioed to the other teams on the ground. “And nearly no indication that anyone much has ever been here.”

Other teams from around the Demesne reported in similarly. No signs of animals or any recent animal activity.

It was as if the Demesne had never existed. Yet according to all their equipment, the grounds were clearly the grounds of the Demesne, the shape of the terrain exactly as described.

The assault teams messaged each other with increasing levels of frustration and annoyance. Soon they had withdrawn from all positions and returned to the spot where they had first breached the Demesne. Not one of them had found anything. “If there was once something here,” one team leader said, “and even that’s not clear, it’s not here now.”

“So what do we do?” another team leader said.

“Here?” the first said. “We leave.”

[thinkingagain]

“Got him, looks like,” the Beast said.

Sir Sleepy of the Bunny Nest (A Novel of the Revolution) Book Three: The Be Attitudes Chapter 19

“Boss, you’ll want to see this. Right now.” The voice that had just spoken belonged to a Beast with a headset. It turned around from its computer screen in the large control room where other Beasts sat in front of other computers. “Serious news here, everybody.”

A glass door, blinds down in front of it, opened. The Beast who came striding out across the room wore the same trim military-style jacket, with a few medals hanging prominently on it, as it had when Maximillian had first watched it in the boardroom. None of the Beasts had any idea they were being watched or listened to by stray cats in the air vents.

On the wall to one side of the Nephew as it walked across the control room, medals swaying, the words Animal Love Unlimited stood in large gold letters on a blue background just like in the boardroom. The Nephew came up to the Beast who had called him on the headset. “Yes?”

“Got him, looks like,” the Beast said.

“You mean?”

“Sir Sleepy of the Bunny Nest was gunned down just a little while ago.”

The Nephew grinned a slow, careful grin. “You sure?”

“It’s unclear whether he’s alive or dead. But yeah, I’m sure. Except not by one of ours.”

The Nephew looked confused and unbelieving. “What do you mean?”

The Beast in front of the computer screen winced. “A lunatic shooting at anyone in sight, didn’t care who. Our people were nearby and and captured him. Can’t get anything out of him. Keeps babbling about Communist mechanical rabbit killers that have been sending him messages, apparently though his teeth.”

The Beast in the jacket frowned. “We’ve had the best trained men in the world out there for weeks now and dozens of them have been taken out. Then one random wacko makes the hit?”

The Beast in front of the computer said, “At least we still had men on the ground to get him. Our nearest shooter was in jail overnight. He was found half-dressed in the road and it wasn’t until morning that he could get off the vagrancy charge.”

“Another first-rate effort.” The Nephew’s face tightened with disgust. “Still, I guess we’ll take what we can get. And if, uh, a rumor gets around that we did it, what can it hurt? No one will be able to prove otherwise.”

“I’ll make it happen. Anything else?”

“Yes. How long will it take to get the full undercover force in action?”

The Beast at the computer screen brightened as if at something he’d wanted to hear for a long time. “No more than a few hours, Boss.”

“The attack should be hard and fast. We need to make sure the Sir is gone for good. Leave nothing in reserve.”

“Nothing? Do I understand you right?”

Seeming to understand the implication, the Nephew nodded. “Yes, him too. No one else will do at this point. He has never missed. Our odds for getting him in the right spot have never been better.”

The Beast in front of the computer smiled triumphantly. “Putting it in motion right away Boss.”

The information system that Maximillian had put together with the cooperation of the urban cats went into motion just as quickly. The recorded conversation sailed from the corporate headquarters of Animal Love Unlimited and spread along a network of basements and alleys and subways and streets. It wasn’t long until Lucky Blue, at the Demesne, was listening to it.

[thinkingagain]

Leo gestured for Madam to back out of the circle. “I’m sorry to ask right now, but what happened?”

Sir Sleepy of the Bunny Nest (A Novel of the Revolution) Book Three: The Be Attitudes Chapter 18

Henry the Valiant arrived quickly with Busterella just behind him. In his trunk Henry picked up Sir Sleepy of the Bunny Nest, whose bleeding body was limp and motionless, and carried him with elephant swiftness to the safety of the Demesne. Busterella held Madam’s hand as the two of them also hurried back.

A bed of soft leaves had been made by Jack and Leo, who had been near Ling Ling when she first felt Madam’s mind reach her. Henry found them and lay the Sir’s bleeding body down on the leaves. Matilda put blankets, taken from her collection of Beast blankets, over the Sir to keep him warm. Other animals came up and stood nearby, ready if anything was needed.

The only consultation required was a series of glances. Love Frog took several large breaths to steady himself, moved to the Sir’s side, pulled off the blankets and began his attempt at healing color and warmth. The other animals stood by silently in a circle. Warming reds and soothing blues began to radiate along the Sir’s body.

Leo gestured for Madam to back out of the circle. “I’m sorry to ask right now, but what happened?”

“A lone shooter on a distant ridge.” Madam pressed the palms of her hands against her temples. “Entirely random. He looked like just another lunatic of the kind we see all the time. We didn’t think about him much.”

“He probably was just a lunatic,” Leo said. “The animals on patrol would have recognized a professional assassin. Clearly they didn’t think he was a threat either.”

“We knew he was there though. We just let our guard down.”

“No one can be on guard constantly,” Leo said.

Madam looked at him and winced as if it wasn’t fair of Leo to try to excuse her.

They both stepped back into the circle of animals around the Sir. A rainbow of cooling color hovered around him. When the color faded, the Sir was covered again with blankets.

Love Frog, his legs quivering exhaustedly, came over to Madam. She picked him up and hugged him. He held his arms and legs tight against her as he whispered in her ear. “He doesn’t know,” she said to everyone. “Even Love Frog’s healing powers aren’t infinite.”

Little Sy stepped forward from the circle with all the others. “We’ll need guards for the Sir in teams of three. One to watch him closely, one to relay any news, and one to make sure that all in his vicinity stays quiet and peaceful.”

Madam nodded. “Calm and quiet is what he needs. Thank you, Sy.”

Sy’s fact was tight and drawn. “If we can give the Sir anything, he’ll have it.” He looked at Leo. “Is this the first stage of a larger attack?”

Leo shook his head. “It doesn’t seem so. A random shooter, a Beast that looked insane rather than dangerous.”

“Still,” Sy said. “News has a way of getting out.”

Leo nodded his head sadly, agreeing.

[thinkingagain]

“But what will you do next, do you think, now that you’re mostly recovered? You seem about to enter on a new, perhaps even grander stage of your journey.”

Sir Sleepy of the Bunny Nest (A Novel of the Revolution) Book Three: The Be Attitudes Chapter 17

“I’ve been feeling much better lately,” Sir Sleepy of the Bunny Nest said, “despite my divided brain. The Commandant-Mind still talks on and on as Commandant-Minds will. Yet I have more ways of refusing that inner destructiveness. I’m sorry if it means we have not had as much time lately to talk. Oh, Madam, if you could only understand how important you are to me. Even the naming of your name sends a thrill through my rabbit heart.”

Walking beside him, Madam laughed, her voice musically cheerful in the bright cool morning. “I must say, Sir, your compliments have become more elaborate. Maybe even a little impertinent? I do hope you’re not learning more lessons from the Commandant-Mind than you realize?”

“It is not so!” The Sir waved his sword flirtatiously at the air. “I banish him to the lowest dungeons of my mind. Your name rings with whatever longing for peace and justice can be found in me.” His usual gold suit with blue stars sparkled in the morning light.

“I wish it was easy to banish him from my mind,” Madam said. “I think often of how much influence he’s had on my life. People are often influenced as much, even more, by those who have caused us the most harm as by those who have helped us.” She was wearing tan slacks, a blue sweat jacket, and comfortable walking shoes that still had a thickly-grooved tread.

“Earlier in my life,” the Sir said, “I would have been shocked by so perverse a reaction as that, so contrary to good animal sense. Now I have much less trouble seeing how it could be so.” His eyes tightened painfully. “Oh Madam, do you like me less now that I have this Beast lodged in my brain?”

“Sir!” Madam startled. “How could you think such a thing? You have done as much for me, and more, as anyone my whole life. And you have been wounded while doing it—even though your opponent never laid a hand on you. Please know: whatever influence the Commandant had on me, your influence has been so much greater that it’s not even possible to compare them.”

The Sir felt his bunny nose quiver. He was too moved to perform his ceremonial bow. “Likewise with you, Madam. I do not know what would have become of my dreams without you to help me understand that reality and our minds are much larger than we realize.”

The two walked along a while in silence. They were strolling the hills just outside the Demesne. The morning was warming slowly. On other hills and valleys, some closer up, others far away, Beastly abodes, whether of brick or of wood, imposed themselves upon the landscape.

In the aftermath of Maximillian’s revelations, there had been discussion regarding whether the Sir should stop his strolls beyond the Demesne’s invisible walls. Beast assassins had been trying to stalk the Sir and find the right moment. Yet many of them were identified in advance and never reached the Demese. Actions against those that came near had been thorough.

By now, nearly three dozen would-be assassins had been eliminated as threats. Some, known Beast criminals, had been arrested by Beast police after information about their whereabouts had mysteriously come to light. Others, skulking in the woods around the Demesne, had been relieved of their weapons and returned to Beast life tied up in the beds of grocery carts or tossed into dumpsters. Several had been found, clothes torn, weapons empty of ammunition, by the incoming morning staff of the nearest Beast 7-11 and Burger King. Their mysterious stories had become something of a local Beast news sensation.

“They do not finally own all of it yet,” the Sir insisted abruptly.

“I’m sorry?” Not comprehending, Madam looked at him.

“Pardon me for thinking aloud.” The Sir spoke more softly. “I was thinking that not everything on the planet, yet, has been crumbled by Beasts. There is hope still that it will not be so.”

“It’s true, Sir. Nothing is hopeless yet.”

The Sir stretched his back in calm acknowledgement of their shared understanding. “On this fine morning, strolling with you, I see that it is so. And I—“ the Sir stopped, sensing movement somewhere. It didn’t seem nearby.

He looked up a low hill a good distance away, on the other side of as broad low-lying patch of ground. There, a lone Beast stood on the edge of a gravel track. It made oddly frantic motions with its arms, obsessed over something that the Sir couldn’t make out. “What is that Beast doing, do you think?”

Madam looked over too. “No telling from here. I wish I had your eyesight, Sir.”

“I have wondered lately about my eyes,” the Sir said. “I have the feeling that not long ago I would have been able to see that Beast more clearly. It looks harmless and likely insane. It’s remarkable how obvious the Beast assassins have been. Watchful Demesne eyes catch them within moments. Beasts simply can’t hide their intentions from other, more subtle animals. Frankly the woods around here are safer in this new era of Beast assassins. We have the advantage that we know danger is coming. We would certainly know by now if that Beast was only feigning madness.”

“They aren’t very good actors, are they?” Madam said. “Not a Jack among them.”

The Sir breathed in the fragrant air of the day and they continued walking. “I have seen Beasts do so many odd things, Madam. I no longer feel shocked or surprised. I guess I have come to accept in a way I never did before that they too are living, feeling creatures. The issue is not always what to do about them. It is sometimes what to do with them. Of course that’s another thing that knowing you has taught me.”

“Hardly me alone.”

‘But without you,” the Sir nodded respectfully, “I couldn’t could have come nearly as far. Every time I have known too clearly what I know, or what cannot be, there you are to remind me that I don’t know either. I even fear Beasts less in many cases.”

The Beast on the ridge was still making odd gestures at no one, arms flailing about, perturbed, excited, perhaps both.

“It’s certainly a strange Beast.” The Sir peered in its direction. “We must keep a watch on it. Beast madness takes the oddest forms. There are many Beasts, as I’m sure you know, Madam, who think of themselves as God—who think they themselves speak with the meaning of the whole universe. They believe that they are the Center Elsewhere, as Leo often says. That there is no difference between their feelings and the truth of the universe.

“But why worry, on this fine morning, too much about these endless and dangerous delusions? Our struggle against the Commandant has taken us together, and me on my own, to strange and forsaken places. Yet you know I have often imagined we might travel in other ways. We could take in the air and sunshine as we do here in the Demesne but in lands far distant.

“By now, I can imagine us doing things together even in the world of Beasts. Sitting outside at a café with some healthy, non-sugary beverage. Riding a tram to a mountaintop and looking across great deserts and valleys. Even speeding across a landscape on a train, sitting in seats together as the fields roll past our windows.”

“Those are lovely dreams, Sir.” Madam smiled.“You’ll never hear from me that they won’t happen. But what will you do next, do you think, now that you’re mostly recovered? You seem about to enter on a new, perhaps even grander stage of your journey.”

“Oh Madam, I don’t know. So many things are necessary and needed. So many others offer the varied pleasures of the life of the healthy rabbit. I do know though that, however much danger the world may be in, it’s a world that holds many wonders for any who are able to reach out towards them.”

The Sir’s body lurched forward, wildly. Something thudded hard into the dirt, and a roar filled the air. “Madam, I…” The Sir’s legs gave out underneath him and he fell as if his will had been drained from his body.

The Madam stared, unable to move. Then she screamed, “Sir!” and threw herself to the ground beside him. Blood was pooling around the Sir’s waist. He didn’t move.

The Madam looked up, around, trying to take in everything like the experienced warrior she was. On the distant ridge, the crazed man was shouting and waving his arms. He was also, she could barely tell, holding a rifle. He aimed the rifle again.

The Madam scooped up the Sir and dived with him, off the path, behind a large nearby rock. Another rifle shot thudded into the ground nearby.

“Help!” the Madam shouted as loudly as she could, repeatedly. She concentrated her mind on contacting her totem friends and Ling Ling. “Help.” Beside her, the Sir lay motionless, blood bubbling over his gold suit with blue stars and smeared over her own arm and legs.

“Please don’t die, Sir,” she said. “Please.” She called with her voice and her mind for help to come as fast as it could.