The rain pounded relentlessly on the roof of the police jeep.
A deathly silence hung in the cabin.
Two experienced police officers, Paddy and Lars, watched the terrible scene of the execution in horror.
The two bulls quickly stuffed Harry’s dead body into a body bag and dragged it back to the truck’s prison compartment.
They had to strain hard to shove his heavy body back in.
At that moment, Seng Eisi walked up to the police jeep.
He knocked on the window.
Lars carefully, almost imperceptibly, touched his pistol.
He looked at the snow leopard calmly, without showing any emotion, trying not to give away himself or his actions.
“Poisonous?” Paddy whispered through his teeth.
He was asking about the darts loaded in Lars’s pistol.
Lars confirmed Paddy’s guess in a whisper: “Yep.” Paddy’s fluffy finger pressed a button on the panel.
The window next to Lars slowly lowered.
A strong wind and cold immediately rushed into the cabin.
The rhino couldn’t immediately tell where the chilling cold was coming from—from the cold wind of the angry storm or from the snow leopard.
Keeping one paw on the trigger of his pistol, Lars looked at Seng Eisi, into his cold eyes.
The snow leopard didn’t wait long and handed two hefty paper envelopes, wrapped in a plastic bag, into the cabin.
Lars took them immediately and heard the snow leopard’s calm, firm voice: “As agreed.
None of what happened here ever happened.
You delivered the criminal to the ‘Utes’ prison, safe and sound.” Seng Eisi pulled out another envelope from inside his jacket, also wrapped in a bag.
“Here are all the documents from the prison guards about the transfer of the criminal.
After the transfer, you drove back.
The rest is the prison guards’ problem,” Eisi continued his instructions.
“Understood,” Lars confirmed.
“All the best,” Seng Eisi said politely.
The snow leopard headed back to the limousine, and Paddy closed the window with relief.
The rain stopped quite suddenly, not at all like it had started.
It left behind only wet ground and huge puddles.
The night air still smelled of dampness.
The wind scattered the clouds, and the moon appeared in the sky.
It was enormous and shone brightly, surrounded by a scattering of stars in the firmament.
The farther from the center of the metropolis, the better one could see the sky, strewn with millions of stars.
But, as last time, the police officers Paddy and Lars were in no mood to contemplate the magnificent starry sky.
The prison convoy, in the same formation and order, drove out of the “Dead Zone,” trading the dirt road stained with clay and mud for a clean route, freshly washed by the rain.
The car’s wheels spun quickly.
Due to the high torque, all the mud that had stuck to them flew off to the sides.
The convoy sped along the asphalt road.
Now that the rain had stopped, visibility on the road had improved, and they could pick up speed.
They were pressed for time.
Lars was the first to break the silence in the cabin.
“What the hell was that?!” he couldn’t contain himself.
The tracking signal started working again.
A red light began to blink, sending a signal to the central police station in Zootopia.
The route dispatchers there were probably breathing a sigh of relief.
The most dangerous part of the journey was over.
“Have you ever seen a weapon like that before?” the rhino continued nervously.
“No, no, never,” the lion beat his paws on the steering wheel, also shaking with excitement.
“I don’t know.
Maybe new military developments or BioGen’s.
How should I know?” “Yeah, but where did Seng Eisi get secret developments?” “How the hell should I know!” Paddy snapped.
“Did you see,” Lars continued nervously, “no, did you see, he blew his skull to pieces!
That’s not your poisonous darts!
That’s some kind of cruelty.
I’ve never seen anything like it.” Paddy, trying not to fall behind the prison guard truck, nervously tried to calm himself and his partner down and said: “Easy.
Easy, Lars.
It’s not the first time we’ve worked with him.
They’re business animals; they know their job.
Everything will be in order, both on paper and everything else.
You won’t find anything to pin on them.” “Don’t you get it?!
Look what they’re doing!
They have SOOB under their control and their own animals in prison,” Lars paused for a second, then continued: “And us.
And Maina?
Does she even know what’s going on here?” “I don’t know,” Paddy couldn’t take Lars’s constant questions anymore.
“Maybe not, or maybe her boss is in cahoots with the Lemur Bank himself.
How should I know.” “Maina is definitely behind this,” Lars shook his head, a grimace of hatred appearing on his face.
“It’s her style.
Weaving intrigues and all that.
I swear she works for the Bank.
A little, insignificant creature.” “So what?
What are you whining about?
You agreed to this yourself…
And now you’ve chickened out and backed down.
A bit late to want to play the honest cop.
That’s it, there’s no turning back.” Paddy stepped on the gas, and the car roared, surging forward to catch up with the truck.
The straight stretch of road was ending, and a turn was visible ahead.
“I’m not whining,” Lars snapped back.
“It’s just…” The rhino couldn’t find the words and fell silent.
The convoy turned in an arc, entering the curve.
Paddy slowed down so the car could take it.
“Listen, Lars,” he began more calmly, “what’s wrong with you?
Just think about it, there’s enough money here for four years of our salaries.
And we got it all at once.” After Paddy’s words, Lars glanced at the hefty stacks of money lying in the envelopes.
“When is Alice due with the third one?” Paddy asked.
“In three months.” “So, do you want to create a decent life for the little one?” “Of course I do!” “And how?
Don’t forget, you’ve got two more hanging around your neck.
You have to take care of them too.” “Yeah, that’s true,” Lars lowered his head.
“And anyway, what’s so bad about this?” Paddy continued in a calm, reasoned voice.
“This Harry wanted to kill a bunch of innocent animals.
He’s insane!
So what if he had some problems with the Lemur Bank?
I think the Drago family didn’t spare their rivals either.
You can’t show weakness in this business.
Besides, their affairs are neither here nor there for us.
It’s none of our business.
And anyway, this same crocodile wanted to crush Hopps.
So I don’t feel sorry for him; he got what he deserved.” “Really?” “Yep.
The chief let it slip.” The prison convoy came out of the turn.
Paddy stepped on the gas again, and the police jeep shot forward, disappearing into the night.
It was well past midnight.
The metropolis was drowning in the coolness brought by the downpour.
Tomorrow will be a new day, full of all sorts of events.
But for now, tired animals sleep peacefully in their “burrows,” while those who lead a nocturnal lifestyle, on the contrary, are just getting down to business.
There weren’t many of them, but thanks to these animals, life in Zootopia didn’t stop for a minute.
In the very center of the city, a black, expensive limousine slowly turned around a corner.
It drove a short distance and stopped near a huge staircase.
The building where the car parked was located in one of the wealthiest districts of Zootopia.
In the guidebook brochures about Zootopia, given to all travelers and tourists wishing to see the city, this place was listed as the “Golden Forest.” That area housed some of the best and wealthiest buildings in the city, true elite.
Of course, you couldn’t call them the richest and most beautiful buildings in all of Zootopia.
It all came down to the administrative districts Zootopia was divided into.
And that added a certain charm to the city.
Because each individual district had its own “Golden Forests,” they just sounded different.
However, despite the division into climate zones, Zootopia was also divided territorially within those very zones.
Take Sahara Square, for example — it’s a huge district, but it in turn was split into smaller neighborhoods.
Some of them were specific.
For instance, the “Black-and-White Stripes” neighborhood.
The overwhelming majority of animals there were zebras.
Or take, for example, the “Fox District,” where the majority of the population was also foxes.
Zootopia’s sociologists argued over why such narrowly focused neighborhoods formed.
Perhaps it was the herd instinct manifesting itself — forcing them to create their own little neighborhoods, as part of the herd.
The Zootopia administration itself neither interfered nor motivated the creation of such neighborhoods.
As if they formed on their own.
For some natural reasons.
If the behavior of herd species, the desire to constantly be in the herd, could still be explained, then the formation of neighborhoods like the “Fox District” required a more nuanced analysis.
Although everything might be more prosaic.
Perhaps it was due to a simple desire to be near one’s own kind — the same herd instinct, only evolved into a social necessity, to be around one’s own.
No, of course there were neighborhoods in Zootopia where there wasn’t such a high density of a single species.
And even in the “single-species neighborhoods” themselves, there were plenty of representatives of other species.
So, oddly enough, all this motley crew got along peacefully with each other.
Though, not always peacefully.
The tall building where the limousine stopped was completely covered in mosaic.
In the light of the streetlamps, it shimmered with pleasant colors.
The mosaic wasn’t laid out chaotically; it depicted a picture.
Moreover, the most interesting thing was that to see it, you had to move a fair distance away from the building.
But that wasn’t all.
Zootopia’s talented artists had managed to create something unusual.
If you looked at the building from the main entrance, you could make out a picture of a turquoise wave crashing onto a beach with golden sand.
But if you looked at the building from the side, the design itself smoothly transitioned into another picture, a huge mountain with a snow-white cap.
And so on for each side of the building.
Not to mention that by focusing on a specific section, you could see a completely different image, created from pieces of the other two.
And there were a huge number of such paintings and pictures.
Even old residents of Zootopia sometimes found new amazing images in this mosaic.
Truly, the gigantic work of many talented animals was incredible and beautiful.
Only one thing was a pity — not everyone could observe it so closely.
In such neighborhoods, you wouldn’t see vagrants or beggars.
Everything here was “sterile.” The building soared high up.
In shape, it resembled a horn, slightly curved and tapering towards the top.
Around the building stood beautiful ornamental trees, always well-maintained and trimmed.
The adjacent territory of this building was always well-lit.
The light was of different colors, blue, red, green, executed in dark tones, this was done so that the light wouldn’t disturb sleeping residents too much.
And it also saved electricity.
But closer to dawn, the lights shifted to brighter shades of orange and white.
And, naturally, in the morning, when dawn broke, they were turned off.
But now, in the dead of night, this place, like a festive Christmas tree, glowed with different shades.
The fountains standing on either side of the huge main entrance were illuminated.
The trees, so harmoniously woven into the composition of the entire building, were illuminated.
This whole place simply shone with sophistication — with glitter, beauty, and price.
Near the main entrance hung a beautiful and stylish neon sign, “Roof of the World.” These were some of the most expensive and elite apartments in Zootopia.
One apartment here cost a huge amount of money.
But it was worth it.
Everything, from the service to the apartment itself, was on an unattainable level.
Everything was here: exquisite rooms, made separately and individually for each resident, high-class service, kitchens, all kinds of leisure activities, a sauna, a gym, private cinemas, all sorts of beauty salons, medical services, and it was simply impossible to imagine what wasn’t here.
Everything was here!
Everything an animal could wish for.
The whims of the residents were law for the workers of the “Roof of the World.” It could be said without reason that if you had housing in a place like this, you were a very influential animal, and your life was a success.
Well, at the moment, at least.
Myna yawned, covering her mouth with her left paw.
She continued speaking in a tired, quiet voice: “Harry Drago’s body will be cremated this morning at nine-thirty.
Here’s the death certificate and the pathologist’s autopsy report.
According to the documents, he hanged himself.
And once the body is burned, no one will be able to prove anything.
If there’s an investigation, it’ll all hit a wall with the documents, and everything there is clean.” Myna finished speaking.
Next to her, wrapped in a warm blanket, the young lemur Viner slept.
He was quietly snoring.
“Miss Myna,” Eco continued in a half-whisper, so as not to wake the young lemur, “have you considered taking the position of head chief of the SOOB?
We could help you with that.
Besides, the old wolf should have been warming his bones on a beach long ago.
And you are a very suitable candidate for his position.
What do you think?” “Thank you for the offer, sir,” Myna thanked him, “but I still don’t wish to sit in his chair.
Not yet.” “And why is that?” “Well, judge for yourself.
Old Alan trusts me completely.
He’s more worried about the next golf match with old animals like him,” she snorted dismissively, “than about work.
So, for all intents and purposes, I am the head of the SOOB.
So why change anything?” “Money?” Eco clarified.
Myna glanced at the lavish building; her apartment was high up on the very roof.
Eco realized he was wrong.
“Authority?” he tried to guess again.
Myna smiled softly in response.
No.
Eco realized he had missed again; she had just told him she practically ran the entire department.
“Money,” Myna said quietly, “comes and goes.
It’s fickle.
Look at the poor Dragos.
They were rich.
And what?
How did they end up?
At the bottom of a pit.” Mr.
Erhordon involuntarily listened to their conversation through his sleep.
He raised his eyebrows and looked at the puma.
“Authority — I already have it concentrated in my hands,” she continued, “and if something goes wrong, that’s where my boss, the old wolf Alan, comes in handy.
As the fall guy, someone to blame.
So a promotion would only get in my way.” Mr.
Erhordon slowly shook his head in agreement.
“And you’re cunning,” Eco praised her.
“You knew these rules without me, sir,” she replied, “but thanks to you, I understood one more thing.” “What’s that?” “The one who rules the world is neither seen nor heard.” Myna smiled easily, almost smirking.
Eco looked at her.
An awkward silence hung for a while, which the puma broke again: “Is that all for today?
Do you need me anymore?” “Yes, that’s all for today,” Mr.
Erhordon said, “you’re free.
And thank you for your help.” “Glad to be of service, sir.
All the best, Mr.
Erhordon,” she nodded in farewell, “Mr.
Eco, and all the best to you too.
Say goodbye to Mr.
Viner for me.
He’s had a hard day.” “Yes.
Undoubtedly.” “Mr.
Eisi,” the puma looked into the snow leopard’s eyes, “all the best.” “And to you,” Eisi replied quietly.
He politely opened the door for the cat, letting her out of the salon.
Myna stepped gracefully onto the red carpet that led straight to the main entrance of the elite complex “Roof of the World.” She exited the car’s salon.
“She’s smart,” Eco said, watching her go, “it’s not for nothing we took her under our wing.” Mr.
Erhordon, lowering his eyebrows and closing his eyes, smirked slyly.
As he fell asleep, he said: “She thinks she’s smart.” The limousine pulled away and drove off down the beautiful street of Zootopia.
The puma’s fluffy paws stepped softly on the red carpet.
She ascended the beautiful staircase, walked past two fountains, and found herself at the main entrance to the “Roof of the World” apartments.
The reflection of the name glinted in her green feline eyes.
The huge glass doors, almost three meters high, opened silently as she approached them.
Silence reigned in the main hall.
The enormous, almost circular room was lit by expensive lamps placed around the entire perimeter of the hall.
They were made in a modern style — simple and concise, but still, despite all their simplicity, it was pleasant to observe their forms.
The huge automatic glass doors closed behind her.
Myna quietly entered the vast hall and headed straight for the elevator.
As soon as she moved away from the reception desk, which was located in the center of the hall and had a round tabletop, a squirrel rushed over to her.
She was dressed in a strict service staff uniform.
White pressed trousers, a matching white shirt, a black bow tie around her neck, and a beautiful red vest.
On the badge to the right, the name “Sam” was visible.
“Miss Myna,” the young squirrel said, running up to the puma, “you’re late today.” He caught up to her and, trying to speak gently and courteously, accompanied her to the elevator.
This was another highlight of the “Roof of the World” staff.
According to the rules, the staff must be polite to residents and be up to date on all the news.
If necessary, they should be able to make light conversation on any topic.
Sam caught up to Myna and walked on her left side, literally a few centimeters behind her, letting her stay ahead.
So that it seemed she was walking in front and he was behind, but he couldn’t lag behind either, so she wouldn’t have to turn her head to talk to him.
The rules of etiquette in this building were strictly observed.
Non-compliance and mistakes had to be paid for with fines on the paycheck.
“Oh yes,” Myna replied in a tired voice, “did you hear what was going on in the city today?” The puma, reaching the elevator, stood beside it, keeping her posture straight.
She again put her right paw behind her back.
The squirrel immediately approached and pressed the elevator button.
Sam stood to the side of the button panel and looked at Myna, but not into her eyes.
He continued speaking: “Oh yes, miss, I heard the news about the hostages.
It’s such a horror.
Just incredible that something like that could happen in our city.” The elevator doors opened.
Myna stepped inside, and the squirrel obligingly followed her.
“It just makes your fur stand on end, all these events.
I hope the criminal gets what he deserves,” Sam said, pressing the button with the number “107” on the small panel.
Myna snorted almost inaudibly.
Hearing this, the squirrel immediately froze in place, took one step back, and fell silent.
Sam quickly understood that she was no longer interested in his chatter.
The elevator shot upward at tremendous speed.
The numbers on the display changed rapidly.
Soon “107” lit up, and the elevator doors, emitting a quiet “ding,” opened.
“You’re free,” she said, stepping out of the elevator.
The elevator door closed, and the elevator descended almost silently, at that very moment Myna closed the door behind her, entering her apartment.
The light turned on automatically.
It was a luxurious suite.
Huge glass windows offered a magnificent panorama of Zootopia at any time of day.
A small corridor led from the front door into a vast hall.
On the right side was a bar counter, which also had a kitchen option.
In the middle of the hall stood a large table with chairs — for dining.
On the left was a soft seating area, consisting of a huge couch, a built-in wall cabinet, a giant television mounted on the wall, two armchairs, and a small glass table standing between them.
All of this stood on a fluffy white carpet.
Ahead, a small piano was visible, along with the entrance to the bedroom, doors to the bathroom, and a storage room.
As soon as the door closed and the light illuminated all this exquisite decor, Myna’s expression changed instantly.
The imperturbable expression, with hints of arrogance, quickly shifted to a worried grimace, almost bordering on insane fear.
Myna seemed as if she had been underwater for a long time, and finally, when there was almost no air left and she was starting to suffocate, she surfaced, greedily gasping for air.
She instantly rushed to the bar counter, almost slipping on the smooth, polished parquet floor on the way.
Reaching it, Myna leaned her paws on its surface, as if she had suddenly felt faint.
She lowered her head and breathed heavily.
Her fangs began to chatter chaotically against each other.
After a moment, her trembling paw reached into the inner pocket of her jacket.
She pulled the letter from inside her coat and placed it on the table.
Next to her, also extracted from the inner pocket, a small plastic vial fell.
By the sound, it seemed full of pills.
She stared at the envelope as if a grenade lay before her, its pin about to come loose.
Myna snorted angrily again, as if mentally scolding herself.
Trying to control her ever-growing fear, she, like an animal shocked by electricity, frantically took out a glass.
A second later, a bottle of alcohol appeared on the table beside it.
She was shaking more and more, and one might even smirk and accuse her of excessive dependence on alcohol.
But no, Myna didn’t suffer from alcohol or even drug addiction; things were even worse.
The bottle was corked.
A corkscrew was immediately pulled from the drawer, which in the same instant was stuck into the cork.
Myna tried to turn it with her left paw to sink it deeper into the cork, but the damned bottle started spinning.
Myna tried to hold it with the finger of her right paw, but she couldn’t manage it.
She got angrier and angrier.
Finally, unable to bear it, she shoved the unfortunate bottle under her armpit.
This method of opening the bottle didn’t help her any better.
The bottle slipped and fell, shattering.
Its contents spilled onto the clean floor.
Shards scattered in all directions.
Myna sobbed.
In a rage, she struck the glass standing on the table, trying to put all her anger into it.
It flew off and shattered somewhere deep in the apartment.
Myna fell to the floor, next to the broken shards of the bottle.
She leaned her back against the cabinet.
Pulling her hind legs closer to herself, she hugged her knees and lowered her head onto them.
She was like a weak, defenseless little animal that had fallen into a trap and couldn’t get out.
Myna sobbed quietly.
Again and again.
Dim light fell on her small body.
Myna’s moans were barely audible throughout the huge, rich hall of the apartment.
She quietly repeated to herself through tears: “How much longer?
How much longer will this go on…” Light fell on the smooth surface of the bar counter.
Next to the letter stood a vial full of pills, on its side was the inscription “BioGen Corporation.” The dim light also fell on the envelope, with the letter inside.
On the envelope was written only one short sentence, in Myna’s crooked handwriting — “To the Chief of Police, Chief Bogo.
Top Secret.
Myna.”