The Constant Rabbit

‘I was on the Dylan Rabbit arrest detail,’ I said. ‘The Senior Group Leader wanted me to concur on an ID and I wasn’t sure but was overruled. But I was right after all, and the shit hit the—’

‘Is there a point to this story?’ asked Lugless. ‘Because you’re getting kind of whiny and self-pitying in that uniquely human way.’

‘I guess not,’ I said, ‘but an innocent rabbit was jugged because I didn’t stand my ground, and I thought that was a good—’

‘Look,’ said Lugless, ‘there are no innocent rabbits. There are simply those who have drifted into criminality, and those that will. You heard Whizelle and Flemming: there is an extremely good chance that the rabbit community might be planning to kick off a LitterBombing campaign that will outnumber Fudds in this green and pleasant land by at least three to one in under five years. Do you want to be outnumbered in your own country?’

‘Well, no, obviously.’

‘Right, then,’ said Lugless, ‘so why don’t you shut your trap, do the spotting that a quirk of fate has bestowed upon you, and leave broad strategy to Nigel Smethwick and the Senior Group Leader?’

I fell silent. The notion of Reproductive Weaponisation had been the pet conspiracy theory of UKARP for over three decades, but given the rabbit had been here fifty-five years and barely numbered a million, ‘commendable restraint’ would be a more realistic appraisal of their reproductive habits.¹⁶

My earpiece crackled into life.

‘Flopsy 7770 with you in one minute,’ came the voice of Boscombe, followed by a report that the post van was heading into the town centre to do the teatime pick-up. Lugless shuffled in his seat and peered intently up the road, as did I, and within a short time a Labstock rabbit turned the corner and walked towards the postbox with the curious gait that anthropomorphic rabbits possessed – upright and on two legs but with an uncertain and almost comical waddle. He was holding a leather briefcase that was chained to his wrist and dressed in a practical tweed shooting jacket over a checked shirt and tie. Perched between his ears at a jaunty angle was a matching flat cap.

‘Recognise him?’ asked Lugless.

‘No.’

‘Me neither. Get out there for a closer look.’

Although Labstocks were the hardest to ID, up close it often became easier – the wrinkles on the nose, a distinctive mark on the iris, whisker placement. If I manoeuvred down-sun of him I could view the capillaries in his ears for later reference, but I’d have to be lucky with my timing – the sun had been in and out all day.

I swung a leather satchel around my shoulder and placed a flat cap on my head. Since rabbits were as poor at identifying humans as the average human was at identifying them, they took cues from clothing and manner, so RabCoT agents either affected an odd walk, or, more usually, disguised themselves as regional or cultural stereotypes. I had opted to pose as a Yorkshireman. For the next half-hour I’d be Eric Althwaite, a mill worker from Harrogate.

I climbed out of the car, popped the live whippet under my arm to augment my disguise and, clasping several postcards, walked across the road in a confident manner, telling random passers-by I was from Yorkshire.¹⁷ Flopsy 7770 was already waiting at the postbox, and I wended my way through the pedestrians – nearly all rabbits – who were either lolloping, walking or half-hopping along the street. I was feeling nervous as perhaps never before, but knew I couldn’t make it show. The future of my career and earning potential was weighing heavily upon me. I needed to get this right.