Animalis by John Peter Jones

couldn’t see another human anywhere. They watched as a shipping door on a three-story factory opened, and the cargo truck pulled in.
    “Here, let us off on this corner,” Hank said. “Captain, they’ve stopped.”
    He gave the location and received an update on the location of the other team, which was now forty-five minutes away. Talon slowed to a stop, crouching to let Hank off, and Wes stopped a few feet away.
    “What happened to the other unit?” Jax asked.
    “The city’s navigation computer sent them to the north harbors. Could be a glitch, but it’s suspicious.” Hank shook his head. “Every computer system is bound to have bugs.” He turned to the kangaroos. “Hey, you two. You can take a break, go get some breakfast or something. Just stay within five minutes of here to pick us back up.”
    “Thank you, mates. You’ll love Australia, so just send in a request for another ride whenever you’d like,” Talon said and tipped his hat.
    With a few bounds, they were gone, and suddenly Jax felt slow and vulnerable. When they had been on their mounts, a city block seemed almost too close. But now, among the more feral Animalis, it felt like a death march.
    “Let’s make a casual pass in front of the building to see what sort of security they have.” Hank said, holding up his ICT scanner.
    They started their walk to the building. On the edge of the sidewalk they were on, a dingo Animalis paced back and forth. Its left eye had a gray film over it. Its upper lip had a long scar that extended up its face. He was muttering to himself.
    While Jax was looking at him, the one good eye stared back at him. The hairs on the back of Jax’s neck stood up. The thing seemed to light up in a fury when it noticed Jax looking at it. It started yelling a string of words that Jax couldn’t understand, a mix of several different languages, probably all profanities.
    Hank kept walking and grabbed Jax’s shirt to pull him along. The dingo got right up in Jax’s face, snarling. That close, the large canine teeth looked like daggers.
    “You looking for something!” the dingo shouted, then it switched to another language before saying, “I’m the boss of this sidewalk. I say when someone can look at me! Hey!”
    It kept at it as Hank dragged Jax past him.
    “Keep walking,” Hank said to Jax. “He wants you to know he’s tough, but he isn’t going to do anything.”
    Jax felt Hank’s hand tremble when he let his shirt go.
    The dingo stopped at the next corner but continued to yell. After a moment, he turned around and went back to muttering. Several more Animalis walked along “his” sidewalk, but he didn’t seem to notice.
    The building that the transport had gone into was large, made with plastic alloy that had been a popular construction material twenty years ago. It had a lobby area in the front, and two big bays for receiving shipments.
    Jax saw a badger scratching at the counter inside the lobby as they passed. It didn’t move its head, but Jax saw its eyes flick up and watch them as they walked past.
    “It looks like they aren’t expecting any trouble,” Jax said when they were past the building.
    “They shouldn’t,” Hank said. “Hold on, this spot will do.”
    The building next to the warehouse had wall screens looping an animated fishing advertisement. They stepped into the alley between the two buildings, and Hank leaned against the wall trying to look casual. His eyes flitted back and forth.
    “Here’s the scan,” Hank said.
    A document blinked in Jax’s retina monitor. He expanded it, sending a transparent re-creation of the inner rooms of the warehouse floating into the alley. The scan had only been able to penetrate fifteen feet into the warehouse, about five feet past the lobby area. As Jax looked over the image, Hank kept talking.
    “This building is owned by Cybollo Corporation, which seems to be a middle man in the fish industry. Operations are run by some guy, Marcus Finch. It looks