Earth 2320: Meeting The Miger.

 

Harbor City NY. December 5th 2501.

He’d often read that back in the old days before the big storm, that most of his kind were unintelligent animals, that broodingly stalked around on four feet devouring whatever had suffered the misfortune of wandering into their path, or had unintentionally pissed one of them off. But the only memories that Magnus Clinch ever had were of him walking upright on his hind legs amongst humankind, he had to the best of his knowledge always had furry stubby clawed elongated digits on his front paws that he could grab objects and food with, in ways that humans had always used their fingers in. and though his skin was covered in thick striped fur as were most of his kind, Magnus preferred to wear the finest leather clothes especially in the time of winter, when it most often rained in Harbor city. This afternoon the weatherman had called for scattered rain showers off and on all day, so he wore a large floppy hat to keep his head dry.

He moved with ease through the crowds that lined the sidewalks on either side of Barter street, rush hour, it was the time he hated most, humans and the animal hybrids in a hurry, trying to get home from work before dark, and from the way that the sun looked as it slipped behind the heavy rain clouds that were moving in slowly from the western sky, he could just tell by the way that the shadows fell from the skyscrapers that formed the man made concrete and steel canyons of Harbor city, that nightfall was not all that far off. He crossed Barter street near the Tangiers hotel, a six-story fleabag that seemed dwarfed by the much taller buildings that cropped up around the very center of Harbor city that was the hub of commerce there. But it was at the flickering lights of the crosswalk at the corner of Barter and Baker streets that Magnus first noticed the four door black sedan gliding slowly towards him just one block away. He pulled the wide brim of the floppy hat down around his ears as the rain began to fall around him, casually, he moved across the street through the crowd, his eyes never leaving the sedan. Something deep inside was telling him that whatever was inside that vehicle was looking for him.

As he crossed at the intersection he kept a cautious eye on it, and once on the other side of the street he moved back in the direction of the black sedan, never letting on that he was on to the tail. He turned halfway down the block into the narrow alleyway, thirty feet in he pushed his back up against the wall, pulled the black 360 Blaster free from the shoulder holster from beneath the leather trench coat and waited for the sedan to appear at the mouth of the alley. The small black Sedan silently slipped into the mouth of the alley behind him, the undercurrent of air from beneath the Hover car sent waterlogged shreds of discarded newspapers and tin cans flying and clinking in every direction as it slowly came to rest just twenty feet from him. Almost instinctively he leaped up to the lowest rung of the fire escape directly above him, and grabbed hold of it, his powerful lower legs pushed him away from the side of the building launching him into the air in the direction of the hover car. He landed right in the middle of the hood with a resounding force that stalled the engine, forcing the craft to land on the wet alley floor.

He smashed his fist through the windshield, grabbing the operator, and pulled him out of the hole where only the shattered remnants of glass remained. He trained The 360 Blaster on where the small man in the passenger seat sat stunned, barely able to move. The alley drew silent around them as the large, angry form of Magnus Clinch leaned in towards him. In a deep throaty growl, he lowered his face to meet the much smaller human's panic-stricken eyes.“Alright little man, why’re ya following me?” Magnus hissed. He didn’t answer, the eyes of Magnus Clinch slowly looked him up and down. Small, thin, white guy, thinning black hair, bookworm glasses, probably approaching middle age, he estimated. 

“ Designer Claudio Cardivale three-piece suit, probably one of them upper crust types. Fricken desk jockey, so what do you want with me, wormy?”

The small, pale human looked up at him before he finally managed a hesitant answer.

“You are the Bengal Magnus Clinch?” he stammered nervously.  

He stepped down off of the hood and moved to the side of the wounded vehicle. Slowly, he placed the 360 blaster back into its holster.   

“I’m Magnus Clinch.” he leaned forward slowly. “Now who are you?” 

 The small human slowly stepped out from inside of the black sedan, noticeably shaken, he tried to steady himself at a considerable distance from Magnus Clinch. He slowly extended his hand to him, between his fore finger and thumb he held a business card. 

“Mr. Clinch. I am Lucas Thorne, I have been retained by the Sandoval Corporation to obtain your services. They wish to hire you.”

He slowly reached out and clasped the card between his fore claws. And brought it close to his face to give it the once over. His eyes raised to look at Lucas Thorne.  

“The Mica street diner in one hour. You come alone if you want me, Thorne.” Lucas Thorne glanced over at the unconscious operator laying in the stench of a garbage heap on the alley floor.

“What about him?” he jerked his thumb in the direction of the operator.

Magnus coldly looked down and then back at Thorne.

“He’ll live, the vehicle is still operational. Let him take it back to wherever you came from, when we finish you can call for another. I gotta take care of something else. See ya in an hour, Thorne”

Contacting The Miger.

One hour later as promised, he sauntered into the Mica street diner, his forepaw pushed open the glass door causing the cowbell that swung from the inside handle to make a clanking noise that traveled through the near empty diner indicating that someone had entered the establishment. A short pudgy waitress wearing a slightly stained white apron, came bouncing in his direction and through tar and nicotine stained teeth she offered him the most sincere “welcome” that she could muster considering that she was talking to what many considered in civilization to be a 6 ft 6 inch miger. She asked him if she could get him a booth, and he nodded in the direction of Lucas Thorne.    

“He’s expecting me.” Magnus growled.   

She nervously nodded and went behind the counter to fetch a couple of menus as Magnus Clinch slid into the seat directly across from Lucas Thorne. The surly looking waitress once again appeared at the booth and offered a pot of coffee, hesitating slightly as it hovered over the cup in front of Magnus. He winked at her and tapped the side of the empty cup with his foreclaw making an impatient sounding clinking noise.  

“Yes, I would Love some!” he told her,  “And might you have some cream and sugar too?” 

Lucas Thorne slowly nodded yes at the coffee as the waitress disappeared back behind the counter. Once she returned with the cream and sugar, he stirred two spoons of each into the hot coffee. His eyes inquisitively moved over the form of Lucas Thorne.

“So?” he asked, raising the cup to his furry lips, “What’s this all about, Thorne?”  

Lucas Thorne stared down into his own coffee cup, slowly he raised it to take a sip before placing the hot cup down on a napkin on the table.  

"The Alpha Curra. Have you ever heard of it?” He asked.

Magnus Clinch slowly shook his head no.  

“It’s a very rare diamond, Mr. Clinch, that belongs to Abigail Sandoval, my employer.” Lucas said.     

Magnus leaned forward, his eye glistening now, full of suspicion.  

“So? What? Does she want me to baby sit the thing or something?’  

Lucas Thorne sighed deeply.

“No. it was stolen, and she wants to hire you to find the ones that took it.”    

Lucas Thorne leaned back in his seat and watched the large male miger thirstily slurp down the remainder of his coffee.    

“Why me? I’m not a cop, or a fed. Shouldn’t you contact one of those?” Magnus asked, slurping at his whiskers.  

“But you’re a tracer, aren’t you, Mr. Clinch? You trace wanted criminals.”  

He didn’t answer as the waitress reappeared to refill the empty cup with fresh coffee. 

“Yeah. I’m a tracer, So?” 

“Well, considering that the thieves that stole the diamond aren’t human, we figured that you’d be the right ma- err. Guy for the job.” 

“Hybrids lifted your stone?” Magnus asked in a surprised tone.   

Lucas placed a folder down in front of him and slid it with two fingers across the table, stopping in front of Magnus Clinch. He opened it slowly, his eyes wandering purposely across the two photo’s inside.

“Theodus Hare and Pepus Mole.” Clinch Muttered.

“So.” Lucas said Flatly. “You know them?”

He nodded slowly, reaching for the cream and sugar.

“Yeah. Last I heard, Theo was locked up someplace upstate, Pepus was inside a cage someplace back east. Both were doing a dime apiece for armed robbery. So how do you know it was them?” he asked.

Because we caught the whole caper on video disk.” Lucas answered.   

Magnus carefully considered the situation as he slurped the hot, sweet coffee, afterward somewhat surprising Lucas Thorne when he produced a cigar from his pocket and lighting it. He stared at the small, frail looking human through the thick smoke as it rose from his lips. He bit down on the cigar, his face almost contorting into a grimace.  

“It ain’t easy to track a subterranean, I’ll have to see the tunnels first, which means I’m gonna have to see the vault that they took the diamond from.”

Magnus told him.

Lucas Thorne nodded in agreement.

“And I’m gonna need three grand a day, American dollars, none o’ that Euro shit, that crap ain’t worth the paper its printed on. And supplies too. I'll get you a complete list.”

Lucas Thorne leaned back in his seat to peer through the cigar smoke into the eyes of Magnus Clinch.

“Anything else Mr. Clinch?” Lucas Thorne asked.

Magnus leaned forward looking Lucas Thorne square in the eye.

“Nope. You get me that, I’ll get you the two rodents that stole your diamond.”

“Consider it done.”

Somewhere in the world Theodus Hare and Pepus Mole were laughing in the face of the Sandoval corporation, after having stole their diamond. Little did they know they wouldn’t be laughing for long.

~Scratch A.B.T. copyright © 2009~