FicWad

PROJECT MOBITROPOLIS
S Peter Davis

All characters (C) SEGA, Archie and SP Davis 2004.
Used without permission
To contact the author; trojan_masters@hotmail.com

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CASINO NIGHT

The ball rolled around the spinning wheel of fortune, eyes transfixed to it as if it were about to make a statement to the entire world. It seemed that the casino stood still so that the clicking of the ball could be heard despite the crowd. The wheel slowed, slowed, stopped. A moment of nothingness, then the moaning of a hundred disappointed punters broke the silence and spun the casino into disarray again.
Of the scores of unhappy faces, one was smiling. A jet black bat with crooked features puffed on a cigar twice the length of his snout and showed dozens of tiny dagger-teeth as he grinned, not despite the disappointment of the crowd, but because of it. Teeth like the nails from which his name was derived chewed on the cigar as the bat observed another payday unravelling before his eyes. Every day was a payday, for every punter's loss was another win for him.
He stepped down and walked past the army of poker machines and their spellbound captives. Past craps and poker and roulette. He had discovered the perfect business, one which neither offered any goods or services nor pretended to, but one which people came to from afar in droves just to pour their pockets into it and leave. For some reason, the more rigged the game was, the more popular it was, especially if he could arrange for one of his close personal friends to every so often experience a very substantial, and very public, jackpot win.
It was like music, the sounds filling the hub of Casinopolis every night; coins being fed into slots, levers pulled, cards shuffled, the counting of money and the spilling of plastic chips. Technology had been good to Station Square in its seedy underground. The business of chance was always more lucritive when a punter's luck was programmable.
He spotted Floyd Tabs by the craps table, the persian cat with the scar over his eye with one hand in his pocket and the other holding a glass of fine bourbon and cola. He gave a toothy smile and held up his glass in greeting, a suave gesture to match his houndstooth suit and crisp, polished black shoes.
"Give me the news, Floyd my boy," the bat said, "Good news first."
"It's just as well," Floyd replied, "The good news is that there is no bad news. I'm telling you, it's the strangest story, but it comes with a happy ending."
"Happy for us, I hope."
"Of course." The cat laughed and drank from his glass with a demeanour that would make Prince Martin Acorn proud. "There I am, sitting in the club with the boys. Two stunning ladies have taken to sharing a drink with Carson and I, so we're kicking back and chilling out with a couple of mega macks and having a smoke, when suddenly who should we see? The kid strolls in, like he's the King of Mobitropolis, says he's looking for you. Of course, I'm ready to whack him upside the head and drag him out by the ears, not to mention have some harsh words with the bouncer. Don't want some ten year-old mutant kid cramping up our style on a Tuesday night, you know what I mean? But anyways, this kid, he starts demanding to see you, I tell him you're working and you're not to be disturbed, and then he opens his hand and- this is the odd part- he shows me this gemstone he's brought in with him. Now, you've gotta see this thing. Without word of a lie, this rock was as big as the kid's fist, and I swear it was glowing. I don't mean it was a little luminescent, I mean the damned thing was glowing, really glowing, like with its own light. I mean you could see in the dark with it. A red light, the colour of a ruby, but the shape of a diamond."
"You know that I don't like tall tales when we're talking about money, Floyd," the bat warned, "You're prone to exaggeration, but not usually to this extent."
"Oh, this is no exaggeration, my friend," Floyd insisted, "This is no exaggeration at all. I mean every word of it, I would swear it on the grave of my mother, God bless her dear departed soul. The most beautiful gemstone I've ever seen, right there, in the hands of that kid mutant. Heaven only knows where he found the thing, he won't tell me. He's desperate for your approval."
"Oh, I'll approve, all right," said the bat, "If what you've said is true after all. If that damned kid is actually good for something."
A cheer rang out through the casino, followed by much commotion, and the bat searched the crowd for its source.
"That's the sound of winning," he said, "Why are people winning in my casino, Floyd?"
"They need the money," the cat replied, "So they can pay it back to you. You know that ninety-seven percent of casino winnings go back into the casino." He laughed and took another drink. "I love statistics."

Sonic was lost in the brightness and the splendour of Casinopolis in its full glory, so much so that he almost forgot himself. He had quickly misplaced the emerald's trail as the strange fox darted through the city. Its bright light had vanished amongst the neon and headlights, and now all that he had was a vague direction in which to walk and a vague idea of who to find.
It was a matter of common knowledge among rogues such as Sonic and his former friends that just about anything that happened to get stolen in Station Square found itself, one way or another, in the hands of Nails the Bat. Nails wasn't the biggest crime boss on Mobius by any stretch of the imagination, but he was the biggest in Station Square, and he was the regional representative to a multifaceted crime syndicate whose central government was so mythological that it may as well have been run by elves and gremlins. He owned three casinos and five nightclubs in Casinopolis, and oversaw just about everything illicit that was smuggled in or out of the city. The most important piece of information about Nails the Bat was that rival crooks had a habit of disappearing if they spent too much time in his shady jurisdiction, unless they wanted to change employers.
A group of girls whistled at Sonic from the footpath, and as he turned to face them he bumped into somebody walking the other way. "Watch it kid!" the other warned, and the hedgehog smiled uneasily as he hurried along. His mind wandered to his depleted food supply and he became concerned as to how his cash might stretch the week. As he worried, he almost collided with a group of people lined up on the street. They were all clad in the most casual attire, each of them making some form of visual statement, and Sonic saw that they were waiting to enter a place called Mercury, which he recognised as one of Nails' clubs.
A muscular gorilla stood with his arms folded at the doorway, and multicoloured lights beamed out onto the street from behind him, as well as the distant beat of dance music. Every so often, he pointed at somebody in the line, and they slipped inside. Sonic stood back, idly wondering if this was where the strange fox had taken his emerald. If he was a lackey of Nails, he almost certainly would have run back to his boss to show off what looked like the most expensive ruby in the known universe. But there was no way a dirty street-hedgehog, and an underage one at that, could have slipped into an exclusive Casinopolis hotel. It was an idea he quickly dismissed, and stood back to reanalyse the situation.
As he watched the line of social partygoers semi-interestedly, he noticed somebody walking towards the club from the opposite direction. It was a flamboyantly dressed cat, sporting a bright white leisure suit, shoes so sharp they may have cut steel, and a wide-brimmed hat with a purple feather poking out of it, not to mention a syrofoam soda cup he was sipping away on. He almost danced stright into the club, his only acknowledgement of the bouncer a smooth finger-gun motion and a wink. The muscle-bound gorilla was unamused, immediately moving to block the eccentric stranger's path.
"Aw come on man," the cat complained, "Give a guy a break, I'm cool, I come here all the time!"
"Get to the back o' the line," the bouncer replied.
"Nah, it's cool, it's cool," the stranger insisted, "Just ask Robbie, the guy who was doin' the door here just the other night, he'll tell you it's all cool, real smooth like."
"Back of the line, I won't ask you again."
Somebody from the line shouted out at him, "Hey jerkwad, how about you wait in line like the rest of us?"
"How about you plug up that ugly hole in your face with another hamburger, fatso?" was the cat's retort.
"You think you're funny or something, you loser?" somebody else shouted.
The cat responded by throwing his drink into the crowd. It caused a decent amount of collateral damage, and almost immediately started an all-out brawl. The bouncer started shouting, trying to break up the fighting.
Before Sonic knew what he was doing, he had slipped into the club. The one disadvantage (or possible advantage) of being so quick was that he frequently acted before his brain was able to discern what it was that he was doing. The sound of the brawl outside was immediately drowned by the heavy beat of the club music, and he ventured towards the red and purple lights to the dark belly of the beast. There, mobians from all walks of life moved through the shadows with drinks and cigarettes, dancing, chatting and just sitting around. Sonic had never seen the inside of one of these places, and it was an intimidating sight. He was clearly too young to be there.
On the dance floor, a thick crowd of people danced furiously to the powerful and overbearing music. Above them, on a balcony, the disc jockey bopped along to it as he worked the equipment. Sonic felt as if the racket was going to melt his brain, and almost had to put his hands over his ears to stop it from dribbling out. It certainly wasn't his kind of music, and he pushed through the crowd in search of someplace marginally less obnoxious.
The bar was as crowded as the dance floor, but the cacophony was reduced to a dull roar, and Sonic hovered around nearby, looking about for the bright red glow. After a while he took a seat in a corner and sighed miserably in his defeat. Five emeralds he was sent to collect, and the very first one he had lost to some bizarre flying kid.
"They should have sent Rat," he said to himself, reminiscing about his friends back at home, "Or Powder. They would have been able to do this. I'm a terrible thief, outfoxed by a fox."
There was a girl sitting opposite to him, a squirrel who might have been related to Princess Sally if not for her larger eyes and much less conservative dress. He noticed that she was staring at him, and now she stood up and walked over to him, sitting beside him.
"Hey there," she shouted over the music, "Having fun?"
"Yeah. Sure." Sonic offered a half-smile.
"What's your name?"
"Blu- Sonic."
"Blah Sonic?" The girl chuckled and play-punched him. "What are you, fifteen?"
"I don't know," he replied, "Probably."
"What are you doing here, Blah Sonic?"
"Saving the world."
She laughed again. "Well, good luck with that. I'm Melinda."
"Hey."
"You know, you're a little young to be drinking."
"I haven't been drinking."
"You're a terrible liar," she replied, "You reek of mega mack. If you haven't been drinking it, then you've been swimming in it."
Now Sonic was the one who laughed. What a day it had been. "Yeah, okay. You caught me."
Someone else sat down with them. A weasil with a mohawk and a floral shirt under a suede jacket.
"What's happening, Mel?" he asked, loudly.
"Just chatting to this cute kid," Melinda replied.
"Hey man!" The weasil shouted at him, "Whoa, I love the dye job, man, that's totally wild!"
"Dye job?" Sonic asked.
"Yeah, blue spines! That's mad!"
"Oh. Thanks."
"The name's Jude," the loud stranger introduced himself, "You here with somebody, kid?"
"No."
"Waitin' for somebody?"
Sonic was silent for a moment, then, "I'm looking for Nails."
He might as well have said that he was a mass murderer for the sudden change in their expressions. It was a valid reaction, as few people in Casinopolis were actually looking for Nails unless they were gangsters - or the police.
Jude began to laugh first, a shocked and befuddled laugh, as if Sonic had just told him to sod off. "You've gotta be kidding me."
"Nope," Sonic replied, "You know where I can find him?"
"Did you say Nails? Like, Nails the Bat?"
"Sure did."
The two strangers looked at each other for want of a better response.
"The kid's got game!"
"Oh Jude, Jude, don't, he's crazy,"
"Nah Mel, this kid's got serious game!"
Jude stood up and offered his hand to Sonic, who took it, and the weasil took him through the club, dancing and bopping his head as he moved.
"Now tell me, small one," he said, "What, and I say what, in God's name, do you want to find Nails the Bat for?"
"I've got some business to discuss," Sonic replied.
Jude gave somebody a high-five as they passed by, and then turned back to him. "Business, you say? You should be at home playing videogames and swapping cards, not doing business with gangsters."
"He has something of mine," the hedgehog said, "Look, do you know where I can find him, or not?"
They stopped at a window, and Jude pointed outside.
"You see the old church?" he asked.
Sonic nodded. The antiquated building across the road had the look of an ancient synagogue. It had been restored and taken care of professionally, but nevertheless looked as if it might collapse in on itself at any moment.
"Well, not a church anymore, but a den of sin, my small friend," Jude said, "A meeting place for brigands and thieves, cheaters and murderers. I've seen things in there, terrible things. He doesn't like visitors, either, but he's in there. The bat's in the belfry, my friend, the bat's in the belfry."
"Really?" Sonic asked, "He's in there?"
"That's what I said," Jude replied, "But tell me, you're not really serious about this, are you?"
Sonic didn't reply. Was that a dull red glow he saw eminating from the church's windows, or was it the club lights working in the corners of his eyes?
"I've gotta go," he said, and began towards the exit.
"Then go, kid," Jude replied, "Go like the wind, but remember, crime doesn't pay, kid! Remember that! Remember old Jude told you that!"

Deep within a ramshackle old church in the centre of the Station Square casino district was an unlikely place for an underground crime syndicate to make their base of operations, and that was what made it so perfect for the task. Smoke choked up the pews and a deck of cards blasphemed the altar on this busy night, and the darkness swallowed whole the den of thieves but for a small number of candles and one red jewel.
"Spectacular," Nails said as he gazed into the deep red depths of it, his own bloodened reflection leering back at him, "Absolutely spectacular, I've never seen anything like this in my life." He put it down on the pew in front of him. "Where did you get this?"
"Oh, it was just lying around," the fox replied, "In somebody's backpack."
"Interesting," Nails said.
"Quite a nice looking prize, Prower," Floyd Tabs added, "Good score, pity about the poor bloke who lost it. Ours now."
"So, now you know what I can do, right?" the fox asked.
"Hm? Say what?" Nails looked up momentarily from the gem in front of him.
"I mean, this is big, right? I've made a big score, just like you wanted. You said I'd be ready for the big time, no more small stuff."
"I did say that, didn't I," Nails replied, "I guess I say a lot of things. Keep dreaming, kid."
The fox looked as if he'd been struck. His ears drooped. "But... you said..."
"Now you listen here, Prower," Nails said, "Are you gonna question me? Are you gonna tell me what to do? Who keeps food in your belly, huh? Me, that's who. What do you want, a promotion? You wanna be a part of the clan, huh? What do you need with the 'big stuff', kid? You ain't even a half pint yourself. Don't get greedy, okay? You did good tonight, you keep it up and I'll suffer having you around another few years, got it?"
"Yes sir," the small fox mumbled.
"What did you say?"
"Yes. Sir."
"Good kid."
The bat went straight back to gazing into the emerald. He didn't even look away to strike a match and light his cigar.
"Hey boss, we got company," warned Carson Crow, looking up from the deck of cards on the altar. Not without hesitation, Nails finally looked up to see a stranger approaching, timidly, from the darkness.
"Who are you?" he demanded.
The two-tailed fox, already crestfallen and vulnerable, slithered away into the darkness in recognition. The blue hedgehog walked past the mouldy and forgotten pews to where Nails sat at a bench like a lazy preacher, and he simply pointed to the red Chaos Emerald in the bat's hand.
"I came for that," he said.
There was silence throughout the darkened building for a few moments, and then Nails let out a croaking laugh, puffing smoke with every cackle. "Oh?"
"That's right. That kid over there, he took it from my bag. It's mine and I want it back, please." He pointed an accusing finger at the two-tailed fox, who sank further.
"Well sure," Nails replied, smiling like a businessman, "I feel bad that the little creep disadvantaged you like that. Mother never taught him any manners, you see. Raised in a bad environment. I tell ya what, I'll let you have the thing back. I got no use for a big glowing rock."
"Thanks very much," the hedgehog replied, "I appreciate it."
"No problem," Nails said, "How's two hundred sound, we'll call it even."
"Two hundred?"
"Yeah, two hundred grand, kid, two, then two zeroes, then another three zeroes, a dot, two more zeroes, you get the rock and you get outta my place. Oh wait, but you don't have that much cash, do you kid? You don't even look like you got enough for the bus ride back home."
"You want me to buy it off you?"
"Why, what do you think this is, the lost and found?" Nails held the emerald out, almost close enough for Sonic to touch it. "You walk around my city with something like this on you, it's your own fault if it gets nicked. I ain't seen you around here before, so let this be a lesson to you. Station Square has a tax on tourists. You try to dodge your payment and you wind up wearing a pair of concrete boots." He puffed on his cigar again, burning it down to a stub, and then flicked it at Sonic in a shower of ash. "Forget it, kid."
"I have to have it back," Sonic pleaded, "That's not just any gem, it's important. It's very important. A lot of people could die if I don't get it back."
Nails cocked an eyebrow. "Die, you say? Wow. That is pretty important." He seemed to ponder for a moment. "Okay. Three hundred grand."
Sonic sighed, and cast a vicious glare towards the fox in the corner.
"Hey boss, I think I know this kid," said Floyd Tabs, stepping closer to inspect the hedgehog. "Yeah, yeah, hey, this is one of the Mobitropolis boys, he's a swindler."
"Oh yeah," Nails replied, "Yeah, pickpocket right? I've heard of you. Fastest street swindler from here to the coast. They say you can rob thirty people before the first is done sneezing."
"That's probably an exaggeration," Sonic admitted, "But yeah. That's me."
"Well well well." The bat reclined, and lit up another cigar. "Well you know how this kind of thing works, kid. You got swindled, that's all there is to it. Cry me a river. You're one of us whether you like it or not, so the least you could do is show a bit of dignity. Walk away."
He looked into the emerald for a moment, and then held up his hand. "Wait. No, I have a better idea. Show me."
"Excuse me?"
"Show me what you can do! What, have I gotta draw you a diagram? If you want this thing so bad, you gotta work for it. I want you to do a job for me. If I like your stuff, then I'll set you up a place in my little family here. You can work the crowds, make a little extra profit for me. You do good, and I'll give you the damned rock. What do you say?"
Sonic frowned. "You want me to steal for you? You think I'm going to steal people's money for you?"
"Sure!" Nails threw up his arms. "What, you've got a stroke of conscience or something? That's what you do, kid, it's what we all do. We're parisites, and don't you think you'll ever be anything else. They revile us, kid, we revolt them. We let them hate us because they pay us for the privilage. That's life. We all eat tomorrow morning. It's crime that makes the world go round." He dragged on his cigar. "Let's face it. If you got robbed, it's because you deserved to. It's because you didn't care enough about your belongings to protect them. That's the beauty of it. That's why I'm so prosperous, kid, it's because nobody steals from me. I care about tomorrow. You gotta ask yourself, are you carrying this thing around because someone told you a bunch of people are gonna die, or is it because you needed a holiday? Do you really care what happens to it? Heck, Prower didn't so much steal it as take it to a better home. I'm not a thief, kid, I'm a liberator of goods. Money practically flies into my hands."
"Okay, whatever," Sonic said. "Sure. Just as long as I get the emerald back. I want your word."
"Excellent!" Nails cried, "Now we're getting somewhere. Prower can show you the ropes, the two of you can kiss and make up, maybe you can teach him a thing or two about the game."
"I want your word, Nails."
The bat frowned, his toothy grin replaced by a sharp scowl that was almost powerful enough to run a shiver down Sonic's spine.
"You listen to me, kid, you ain't never going to say my name with such contempt like that. In fact, never say my name at all. What, you think you're my friend or something? 'Round here I'm known as the boss. Remember that. As far as giving you my word, then you've got it. But don't forget, it's just a word." He leaned across the table so that Sonic could smell his rancid smoke-tainted breath. "I bet you want this thing pretty bad, huh kid? Bad enough to steal it right back. Well, let me tell you something. That's why I'm the best at what I do. Ain't nobody steals from the boss."
Nails tossed the emerald to Floyd, who caught it with one hand, never breaking his charismatic stance. The cat turned to a large safe embedded in the wall behind a religious painting. He opened it with a key and locked the emerald inside, tossing the key back to Nails. The bat then stood and spread his dark wings to their entire span, clutching the key in his clawed fingers. The other gangsters started to laugh, apparently with knowledge that Sonic wasn't privy to. Nails beat his wings and flew upward, circling around a number of times as he ascended the belfry. Sonic had to squint in the darkness to observe as Nails placed the key on a hook far out of reach, and then swooped down with a rush of wind to land on the table.
"You guys got work to do," he said.

Twinkle Park was an unpopular but sustainable tourist trap towards the outskirts of the city where density and crime were low, so families and young lovers with established night lives but less gall had a viable alternative to gambling and debauchery, while reserving the right to spend obscene amounts of money on crap. Sonic and a young but shrewd two-tailed fox now approached the gates of the theme park together, looking like brothers despite the racial discrepancies. All of Sonic's attempts at communicating with the fox fell on deaf ears, so for the most part they walked in silence. They were both wearing backpacks, though the fox's was, for the moment, empty.
The cashier was hidden behind a wire cage, and Sonic wasn't sure anybody was in there until the fox approached the booth and asked for two tickets. The hedgehog looked around the entrance for information. He saw nothing but a sign which read 'Fellers, bring your ladies along: Cute couples get in free!' He turned back to the fox in time to see him handing over the money and collecting the tickets.
"Whoa," he said as they walked through the entrance, "Did you just give that guy a twenty? That's steep."
"If you wanna dress up like a girl then go for it," the fox replied.
The park wasn't even remotely crowded, which Sonic figured was typical enough for a Tuesday night. A few families wandered around, their children licking at ice cream, bouncing about with glee. The carnival itself was a tired and rather sad affair, the rides dilapidated and unexciting, but the air was filled with the aroma of cotton candy and the laughter of children who would be just as excited as if it were the greatest carnival on Mobius.
Sonic watched as the kid fox deliberately bumped into somebody, acted cute and apologetic, and walked away with the fellow's wallet. He strode up to Sonic and waved it in his face.
"There," he said, "That's it. That's what you do, okay? That's all. Even you can learn that. So go and do it. And don't get caught."
"Wow, I dunno," Sonic replied, "Looks kinda difficult."
The fox groaned dramatically and slapped his own forehead. He slipped the stolen wallet into his backpack and sighed. "Look, do you want me to show you again?"
"Don't bother," Sonic said, and held up his own hand so that the fox could see. He was holding three wallets of his own.
"Hey what the-" the fox spluttered, "What? How?"
"Pretty simple, really. Only I don't make it ridiculously obvious by running into people in an empty carnival. By the way, do you want this back?" He held up his other hand, and he was holding the wallet that the fox had just stolen himself. The fox gasped and groped at his empty backpack. Frowning, he snatched the leather case from Sonic and made a show of shoving it back in.
"So what?" he asked, "So you know the ropes. That just means we don't have to talk to each other anymore. Leave me alone."
He tried to ignore the hedgehog by stomping around and looking for another mark, but the only people nearby were children and girls with handbags.
"What's your name?" Sonic asked, "Prower, isn't it?"
The fox sighed, and turned to him again. "No, it isn't. That's my last name. People call me that to be condescending. If you want to be a jerk then go ahead. Otherwise, call me Tails."
"Tails," Sonic repeated, "That would be because of the, um..."
"The tails, yes, the two tails. Genius."
"Great. Well, my name's Sonic, in case you wanted to know."
"I didn't, but thanks."
That was the final word for a while. Sonic's curiosity wouldn't allow him to forget about his young associate's unusual talents. A flying fox, in the literal sense. It seemed like something out of a fairytale fantasy. As he pondered, he watched the fox collide with people despite the wide open spaces available to him, and achieve little besides spreading irritation. Sometimes he managed to steal something through some kind of sheer luck. Most times he just stirred up trouble.
"You get caught a lot, don't you," Sonic said after a while, strolling along and watching the fox's concussion method of street robbery.
"Shove it, buddy," Tails replied, "I don't need a running commentary."
"All I'm saying is, if you keep going like this, then your parents are gonna start getting concerned when the cops keep showing up on their doorstep."
Tails sighed. "Yeah. I'm sure they would, if I had any parents."
"Oh," Sonic replied. Remove foot from mouth. "Sorry."
"Don't be. I barely remember my Dad. Nails raised me."
"How does a slimy gangster - and a jerk, I might add - like Nails wind up raising a kid?" Sonic asked.
The fox turned on him. "You listen here," he said, "You don't go saying things like that about Nails, okay? You're not exactly a pillar of society, yourself. My Dad and I had to live like this for years just to survive, and Nails gave us protection. When Dad died, Nails gave me a life."
"Some life," the hedgehog replied, "With the amount of money he rakes in from those casinos, I'd say you're getting a pretty raw deal."
"Whatever."
A disapproving row of plastic clowns shook their heads from side to side, mouths agape. Helium filled balloons of every colour swayed sadly in the soft, cool breeze. The carnival was dead, and the ironic lack of distraction forced Sonic to contemplate other things. His thoughts wandered to his conversation (or more accurately, lecture) with Nails the Bat.
"If you got robbed," the gangster had said, "It's because you didn't care enough about your belongings to protect them."
Who was this blue hedgehog kidding with all of his talk of great importance, of matters of life and death? It was a glowing rock. This he had always kept firmly in the back of his mind. He was risking life and limb for a rock, but why? Such a small object could never have any great effect on the political turmoil of Mobitropolis, this he subconsciously maintained. Did he not trust Kethriel and the Freedom Fighter movement? He still wasn't sure. Nails, ethically corrupt as he was, seemed to have tapped into some kernal of wisdom with all his self-justification. Perhaps Sonic hadn't cared about the emerald at all. Perhaps the prize was not his motivation so much as the quest.
"Freedom." He mouthed the word. His desire, his need, to get out of the garbage and into the world. Unlike his friends, he had always felt a nagging desire to break free of his dreary and redundant lifestyle and, like a caged animal, stretch his legs and run free in the wild. Now, like the circle of life and fate's cruel joke, he found himself picking pockets again in order to reclaim that freedom. And he didn't like it.
"Hey!" somebody shouted, and it cut through the fun and candy laughter with a resounding tone of fury. Sonic turned to see a very large and angry mobian, a bear by the looks, clutching Tails by both of his namesakes with one huge, hairy fist. Tails had a hold on him in return, clinging to the mobian's wallet, which was attached to his pants via a silver chain. Obviously, the fox had tugged a little to hard on the wrong pocket.
"You little mongrel!" the victim of his robbery boomed, "The police will deal with you!"
"Hey," Sonic shouted, without any idea what he was going to say next. The bear and the upside-down fox both turned to him, awaiting the next word.
"Um," the hedgehog continued, "Is this kid giving you trouble?"
"The little beast tried to steal from me!"
"Right," Sonic replied, "Well, he does that. Unfortunately. I mean, he can't stop. Klepto, you see."
"Klepto?" the bear demanded.
"Kleptomaniac. He's on medication. Picks up anything that isn't tied down, the wretched little scamp. Sorry about that, took my eyes off him for one second and look what happens."
"Yeah? Well." The bear, still infuriated (although it seemed as if that was his default emotion) appeared nevertheless satisfied with the explanation, and put Tails down on his head. "Keep a better eye on him."
He wandered away, and left the two swindlers to themselves. Tails looked up at Sonic, an expression of bewilderment written across his young face.
"Why did you do that?" he demanded.
"I probably just saved you from juvinile detention," Sonic replied, "I've been in your position before, Tails Prower. Believe me, recklessness is not an option. Let's just go back and tell your favourite mob boss that we're done for tonight."

"Nails ain't here," Floyd Tabs announced, "He don't have time to be talking to you kids all night." The scarred but impeccably suave persian cat leaned on the church ex-pulpit with a nip of whisky in one hand and a cigarette in the other, moving his eyes back and forth between Sonic and Tails.
"We've got tonight's score," Sonic announced, "He might wanna know how much richer he is tonight."
"Pfft," Floyd spat and rolled his eyes. "This stuff's small-time. The boss, he makes ten times as much from his casinos in five minutes."
"Makes you wonder what the point of it is," the hedgehog commented.
Floyd smiled and held up his glass. "Monopolising the industry, my small friend, monopolising the industry." He turned to Tails. "Count it. The boss ain't gonna be too pleased if you haven't improved your take tonight. I'm going back to the club, kid, so make sure you lock up when you're done."
Floyd strolled down the aisle towards the large arched doors, shoes clicking on the rotting wood floor, and left the building with a punctuated slam. All at once, Sonic was alone with the fox in the darkened church turned hideout.
The hedgehog's attention turned immediately upward. The small key glinted from the rafters in the belfry.
"What do you reckon are the odds of Nails keeping his promise to give me back my emerald?" he asked.
"Slim to none," Tails admitted matter-of-factly.
"That's what I figured."
Sonic climbed atop the pulpit and felt around for something to take a hold of among the rafters. Testing his weight against the wooden supports, he began to climb, slowly and carefully.
"What are you doing?" the fox asked.
"What does it look like?" Sonic moved among a web of interweaving support beams halfway up the shaft of the belfry. The supports began to creak and groan like the woes of the elderly. He tested his weight again on those further above, but thought better of ascending. The key remained at an unachievable altitude. He climbed down again.
The hedgehog's thoughts turned inevitably to Tails, who was now busy counting the money that the two of them had ripped off from an unsuspecting public.
"Hey... you could reach that key, couldn't you?"
The fox looked up at him, question in his eyes. "What?"
"I saw when I was chasing you, heck, you can fly almost as well as Nails can. You could zip up there and get that key for me, just like that."
Tails shrugged. "Probably. That doesn't mean I'm going to."
"Aw come on. I did a favour for you."
Tails, counting coins, looked up again. "I doubt what you did for me is worth as much as that emerald."
"True," Sonic replied, "But then again, you're never going to see any of that cash, now are you?"
Tails didn't reply, opting instead to focus his attention (or at least pretend to) on what he was doing. His twin appendages twitched. Sonic, defeated, sat down on one of the pews and let out a dramatic sigh. The church bathed in silence for a while, as though in prayer. Tails' coins clinked rhythmically.
"I saw you in Mobitropolis the other day," Sonic said at last.
"Oh?" Tails didn't look up.
"Yeah. You were going through my dumpster at some insane hour. Woke me up. I shouted at you."
Now he caught the fox's attention. "That was you?"
"Yep."
"You live in a garbage can?"
"That's right. You think I don't know what you're going through, but I do. I've been low, I've been so low that it's hard to think of a reason to wake up in the morning. It's a hard life."
"You got that right," Tails replied."
"Life doesn't have to be hard, Tails. That's something I've learned."
"Oh, sure. This city's just overflowing with potential for a nobody who can't even steal to save his life."
"I said the same thing once," Sonic said, "I would have told you the same thing a week ago. But then somebody pointed out that, for somebody without any purpose in this world, I sure have some unusual talents."
"Talent," Tails smirked, "Yeah. You're quick. So what? All it does is help you steal better, right? Where does that get you? You stay on the street."
"Potentially, sure. But one day, fate is gonna throw you a lifeline, and you have to watch out for it. Your useless talent might just be the one thing that can save the day."
"What the heck are you talking about?" The fox had stopped counting money entirely.
"Well, imagine for a moment," Sonic went on, "Imagine you have some useless talent that allows you to reach high places. You don't know where it came from and you don't know why you have it, and it doesn't seem to help you get anywhere in life anyway. You don't consider yourself unique at all. Then, one night, you meet somebody who has a problem. A lot of innocent people are going to lose their lives unless he is somehow able to reach something in a high place. Suddenly, your talent has meaning, doesn't it? If you were just an average joe, you know that all those people would be doomed."
"So I'm supposed to sacrifice myself, is that right?" Tails asked, "Because, you know, if I helped you get that key, Nails would either shoot me or drive me out of town, and both options mean death for me."
"Surely there's another way. Something you can do."
"Well there isn't, okay?" The fox's face knotted up into a scowl. "This might not be the best life, but it's secure. Being Nails' punching bag is a lot better than being his enemy."
"Then come with me," Sonic said, and at once he questioned himself for blurting it out. Tails certainly seemed shocked at the offer, and the hedgehog wondered if bringing a nihlistic juvenile delinquent along for the ride was the best course of action for his mission. All at once he realised that Tails didn't possess many flaws that he himself hadn't been burdened with before his chance meeting with Kethriel and his Freedom Fighters.
"What?" the fox asked, "What the heck do you have to go back to? Street crime in Mobitropolis?"
"I don't know," Sonic replied, "But I know a group, I'm certain that they would help you. You could live free of street gangs and police, no more stealing either. Three square meals a day."
"Forget it." Tails shook his head. "Stop trying to help me. I'm fine here. My Dad died trying to keep me alive, I'm not going to do something stupid and get killed just because some hedgehog came along and told me to."
"Your Dad?" Sonic asked, "I thought you didn't remember your Dad."
Tails looked at him, and Sonic thought he could see tears welling up in the young fox's eyes. It was clear that, behind the stone cold street facade, he was just a frightened child, as was more than understandable. Quite possibly it was the first time that anybody had genuinely tried to help him, at least since his father.
"I remember..." The fox sniffled but tried to cover it up. "I remember that I loved him."
"This isn't the life that he would have chosen for you," Sonic assured him, "I've seen the way Nails treats you. He barely acknowledges you as it is. It's dangerous for you here, you shouldn't have to face this alone."
Tails closed his eyes for a long time, so long that Sonic thought for a moment that he might actually have fallen asleep. Then, a single tear traced a path along the length of the young fox's snout.
"You better not be tricking me," he said, "If you do, and I wind up dead, then it's on your hands."
"I'm not," Sonic replied.
"I'll do it. But you have to promise that you'll take me away from here. I mean, far away. And that I'll have a better life than this. Promise."
"I will."
"Promise me."
"I promise."
Tails stared at him in the eyes, scrutinising his face. He was slow to trust anyone, it seemed, but anxious for somebody deserving of that trust. All at once he sniffled and climbed on top of the table. "Curse you," he rasped under his breath, and leaped into the air. The table fell over with the thrust of his feet, notes, coins and stolen wallets alike making a loud mess on the mouldy floorboards. The fox spun his twin tails like rotor blades, a motion that he had clearly perfected through practice until it was as second nature as running was for Sonic. The tails, of course, tangled together after only a few orbits, so they provided him just enough lift for short bursts upward, enough to allow him to reach the wooden supports, which he held onto while he 'reloaded' his rear-end helicopter. It was a bizarre, almost surreal thing to observe, this fox half-climbing half-flying up the belfry with limbs and appendages flailing. He had almost vanished into the dark when something tiny and metallic came tumbling back down. The small key landed with a modest tinkle at Sonic's feet. As if to show off, Tails ascended further and rapped his knuckles on the church bell. 'Bonggg-g-g-g'.
Sonic picked up the key as Tails climbed down. "Thank you!" he called up the belfry, and moved towards the safe.
Nails' safe was a small iron box embedded behind something which was once a painting of an angel, and was once beautiful. Deterioration had had its way with it just as it had with everything else in the abandoned church, and with one final blasphemy the mould and rot ate away the paint and left an image that reminded Sonic more of the angels of the underworld. He pushed the morbid picture aside and unlocked the safe. Instantly a vibrant red glow greeted him, the Chaos Emerald appearing almost happy to be free of its prison. Sonic reached in and retrieved it, half expecting some kind of steel trap to take his hand off. It didn't, and the emerald returned to him easily.
Tails approached him, his weary face fully visible under the emerald's illuminating light. The face of a young boy stripped bare of his illusions, desperate to reclaim his lost childhood. Sonic looked into that face and made a vow to himself, then and there, that he would protect this child. Finally a verification that there was something more important than his own interests riding on this mission. Innocence had a face.
"Well well well," Nails the Bat said, and his voice echoed throughout the ex-church, for he stood at the doorway, flanked by his cronies. Tails hid any trace of shock, but his hand found Sonic's, perhaps moving independent of his brain's commands, and squeezed tightly.
"Back so soon," Sonic said, for there wasn't much else to say. The situation was far beyond excuses.
"I guess it's lucky that I am," Nails replied, "Just in time to find you thrusting the knife into my back. That really hurts." He smiled, dagger-teeth and fangs lending a macabre edge to the expression. "Tails. My boy. I raised you, I gave you work, I gave you everything. Now I find your hand in the till with this weirdo? I might have raised you as a scoundrel, Tails, but never as a betrayer."
"Well, you told me I was ready for the big time," Tails explained, squeezing Sonic's hand harder, "But you kinda screwed me on the emerald deal. I figured I was ready for the big time after all. What bigger score than Nails the Bat?"
"Then you are a scoundrel after all," Nails replied. He calmly plucked a cigar out of his breast pocket, bit off the end, and lit it up. He sucked hard, then exhaled, putting the lighter away and staring with monumental contempt at the thieves at his safe. "Biting off the hand that feeds you. Nice. It's almost like you believe you're going to get away with it."
"It's just like you said, Nails," Sonic announced, "If you get robbed, it's your own fault. You only lose what you deserve to lose."
"True," the bat admitted, "Very true. I'm glad to have made an impression on you. I'm still going to shoot you, though."
"Fair enough. But you'll only take our lives if we're careless enough to lose them, and I'm pretty sure we both want to get out of this alive. That doesn't leave much for you, sorry to say."
"That might be true if I didn't have such good aim." Nails, possessed by lightning, thrust his clawed hand somewhere under his coat and withdrew a long-barrelled pistol, firing it several times before anybody even noticed him reaching for it. Sonic didn't see Nails ahead of him, though, he only saw Kethriel, and instead of a tumbledown church, he stood in the Great Forest flanked by trees. This was not a toy gun, however, and his aggressor was not testing him. Not only this, but he was not alone, he had more than his own body to protect. Sonic's mind, for the briefest of moments, caught up with the phenomenal speed of his reflexes, and he thought for that split second that he could actually see the bullets as they traced their way through the air toward him. He hit a freeze time of his own in those few moments, but from then it was all movement, all action.
Sonic's hand must, at some stage, have closed around Tails'. He dragged the fox behind him as he ran, but his passenger never touched the ground after he left it. He realised in the back of his mind that the fox's tails were spinning and he was almost parasailing in the rear. Sonic dodged the bullets at a hair's width and ran straight towards Nails, whose own reflexes allowed him no time to react. At some stage, though Sonic was never sure when exactly, both hedgehog and fox left the ground together, and in the process of running in midair, Sonic kicked Nails square in the jaw. Sonic and Tails hit the ground before the bat did.
Then, they were running together, the emerald held out ahead of them like a beacon. Onward they fled, hedgehog and fox, towards an uncertain tomorrow.

The neon wonderland of Casinopolis was a colourful temptation for those who wanted to lose themselves, and Sonic and Tails were determined to lose themselves. They fled into the bright lights, hoping that the city would receive them and offer them shelter. But the city was owned by Nails the Bat, and it did not prove welcoming toward its master's betrayers.
The streets were still crowded at what must have been the early hours of the morning, and the fugitives edged into this crowd, trying to vanish. The furious shouts of the once defeated gangsters could still be heard somewhere behind them.
They slipped into a casino at some point, one of Nails' own investments, and the cold street vanished in exchange for bright red tapestries, gold carpet and green tables with cards and dice tumbling about them. When they pushed through the entrance, a guard shouted in surprise, but quickly lost them to the crowd.
The wheel of fortune spun around, and the ball inside sounded like a bullet sliding through a gun barrel. It was their own fortunes that the wheel told, now. Life or death. Escape or capture. Roll up, roll up, ladies and gentlemen place your bets please. High rollers only, we're betting with lives.
There was a shriek from somewhere in the casino. It wasn't a shriek of excitement, but one of terror. It was followed by others. Sonic turned his head to see people running, now. The casino was full of mobians running and tripping in a mass panic, and through the crowd he caught a glimpse of Nails, gun cocked and trigger happy. His face was bloodied, his eyes wide and ablaze.
"Get down!" Sonic commanded, and the two refugees ducked behind a roulette table. The ball flicked out of the wheel and dropped to the golden carpet in front of them, rolling to a stop.
Nails fired his gun into the air, and the gun spoke a language that everybody understood, for the casino fell suddenly and morbidly silent. Most people dropped to the ground and covered their heads, a protective reflex.
The bat, remarkably, was grinning again. Those nail-teeth were clearly visible in his bloodied maw. His eyes, however, were not compatible with that smile. It was a strange kind of double-expression that masked a powerful inner fury. One of his hands clutched at his jaw, and the other held on to his long-barrelled weapon.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Nails announced, "I'm sorry to have to interrupt your night. I'd like to take this opportunity to thank you for choosing Mercury Casino for your gambling purposes, and sincerely hope that tonight's experience does not negatively impact on your future enjoyment of the facility, and so on and so forth. That said, I'm afraid that there are those among you who are in desperate need of dying tonight."
Nails walked slowly through the brightly lit casino, and there was no longer any sound, except for the clicking of the ball inside the wheel of fortune, slowing down to its eventual stop. The silence was sudden and eerie, an anomoly.
"That's right, ladies and gentlemen," Nails continued, "Two of our punters tonight have decided to place the ultimate bet. They're gambling with their lives. Unfortunately, the odds have been quite significantly stacked against them. It's a pity, because double-or-nothing is not an option here. Will the fools with a deathwish kindly step up?"
Sonic sat on the Chaos Emerald to try and stop its glow from giving them away. It was then that he noticed they weren't alone. Somebody else was sitting behind the table.
"He's talking about you, isn't he?" He whispered. It was Jude, the weasil from the nightclub, mohawk, suede and all. "If you kids are too young for the club, you're sure as holy heck too young to be in here."
"We need a way out of here," Sonic whispered, "Quietly and quickly. Any ideas?"
"Aw man, I told you not to mess with these guys, didn't I tell you that?" Jude asked, "Now look what you've gone and done. You need ol' Jude to bail you out again. Follow me."
The three of them crawled out of sight, keeping behind the tables so as not to be seen. Every door out of the casino was blocked by a well-armed gangster, so the only way to go was deeper inside. A terrified mobian poked her head up to see the three of them crawl past, and Jude put a finger to his lips and gave a wink.
Nails continued talking as they sneaked past. "I have three lucky bullets," he announced, "Two are reserved for the stupid-looking blue hedgehog and his freak buddy, and the third is for the head of whoever is found protecting them. Stand up now, kids, and I'll make it quick."
The fugitives made it beyond the bat's line of sight, and ran through a hallway into a kitchen. The staff had already abandoned the area, curious and frightened about the activity in the gaming room. Jude led the others through another door, and they found themselves in a public mens room. There, on the far wall, was a window with a loose grating.
"Our little secret," Jude admitted, "I've seen it used by fools who don't want to be parted with their money. I'm guessing you guys have a similar problem, am I right or am I right or am I right?"
"Jude," Sonic said, "I don't know why you're helping us, but you've done more good than you know."
"Hey," he replied, and he cocked his finger-gun with a wink, "I said it before. You got game, kid."

Sonic and Tails left the glimmer and glamour of Casinopolis behind them. Some part of the hedgehog missed it as the lights faded away, and he wondered how his newest companion felt about it. On the other hand, it did seem to be a cesspool masked by a thin layer of excitement, and he rather figured that any feelings of regret were misplaced. There were better adventures ahead of them.
Silently, Sonic hoped that it was the last time he would have to steal to survive. He hoped it for both of them. While the world was harsh and unforgiving, their lives were what they made of them, and freedom was the reward for those who knew it. They were free, and it was something that Nails and the other gangsters of the world would just have to accept.
As they walked, the emerald glowed on.