1.The Wabbit and the Moonlit Landing

With all the stealth that its diesel engine could muster, the Lepus crept in to a small bay near Marina di Modica and lay still. A casual moon beamed quietly on two figures as they waded ashore. The Wabbit cursed silently as a chunk of driftwood bit a paw and Lapinette cast an eye along the beach. "Not much here." The Wabbit widened his view but only saw provisional shapes. "They don't advertise." The thrum from the Lepus died. "Jenny's finished with engines," murmured Lapinette. "Eight bells and all's well," said the Wabbit. Lapinette's Snazer whined like a hundred mosquitoes. The Wabbit's Snazer had three main settings - confound, astonish and blow away - but Lapinette had developed another. He recognised the overwhelm setting and nodded. "I'm uncertain what the Paws of Darkness look like." "Gloomy?" suggested Lapinette. The Wabbit pricked up his ears and listened. "I can hear them." Lapinette knew better than to question the Wabbit's logic. She hopped out of the water and her ears swung right then left. "I can hear something else." The Wabbit waited while Lapinette made a judgement. "Something squeaky that way ran." "Did it have a colour? asked the Wabbit. "I couldn't hear its colour," answered Lapinette. High on the mast, the skull and crossbones snapped and crackled in the windless air. A hot chill rippled through the Wabbit's fur and he shouldered his Snazer. "Let's hop to the grid coordinates." Behind, the moon and the Lepus shimmered and disappeared as the night swallowed them both.

The Wabbit at the Adventure Caffè

They met at the Safe Adventure Caffè and despite the fuzzy warmth of the dining room, their mood was sombre. Skratch the Cat knew he was expected to ask the question so he did. "What was that for an epic adventure?" "Dangerous and uncertain," frowned Lapinette. "Like life," observed Wabsworth. The Wabbit had been waiting. "I simply cannot instruct you to be on this next mission. I need volunteers." "I think there's a queue," said Skratch. The Wabbit managed a half smile while Lapinette spoke softly. "Where love is concerned, it's not a matter of volunteering." They listened to plates and cutlery rattling in the kitchens and the Wabbit sniffed. But food aromas failed to mask the scent of menace. "So who's on board this mystery train?" Wabsworth took a list from his fur. "Everyone we have." "I told you so," said Skratch. The Wabbit nodded but it was a question. "Intel?" "Slight," said Wabsworth. "Cloaking technology?" asked the Wabbit. "Purely optical, but in place," replied Wabsworth. "Location?" asked the Wabbit. "Hypothetical," said Wabsworth. The Wabbit sighed. "It'll have to do."  Wabsworth grinned. "We have isotope signatures from the Murmurants." The Wabbit thought long and hard. "We will appear as tourists." Wabsworth searched for a camera. Skratch guffawed and looked aimlessly around. Lapinette fidgeted for a map and drawled, "Kin you point me to the centre of town?"

15. The Wabbit : Reflectance of Light

If the Wabbit knew one thing, he knew about light. And intelligence suggested the Murmurants were crazy about pyramid tea bags. So he glided into the interrogation corridor on invisible leaves. The Murmurants tried to take up his colour but the light was average and they felt extreme discomfort. The Wabbit's eyes flashed with sudden brightness. "I don't care about you. Tell me of your technology." Murmurants writhed in the average light. "We can't!" The Wabbit's eyes flashed again and his ears swayed. "Can't or won't?" Grey tone drained from a Murmurant. "It's called furtive fur." Light from the Wabbit fell with an average edge. "How?" he snapped.  A Murmurant sagged. "With a quantum honeycomb lattice." The Wabbit's eyes grew grey until they almost vanished. "Aaagh," cried a Murmurant. "His light has no direction. I can't get a fix." "Details now!" snapped the Wabbit. "The light bends towards us, then we reflect it back," gasped a Murmurant. "Our fur is made of quantum dots. Where the light goes, we go." The Wabbit smiled. "OK.  Now you're free to go." "Go where?" trembled a Murmurant. "The Canteen," shrugged the Wabbit, "for light refreshments." As they turned to go, the Wabbit yelled. "One more thing!" They shivered in the grip of the Wabbit's stare. "Who do you work for?" The Murmurants shuddered. "They call them The Paws of Darkness ..."

14. The Wabbit's Lucky Fireteam

"I need to capture some Murmurants," said the Wabbit. Wabsworth's eyes scoured the rooftops and he waited. "I need them in reasonably good shape," added the Wabbit. Wabsworth was the Wabbit's android double, but much had passed under the bridge since he was made. So his question was more of a statement. "You want their technology?" "Can you tweak it?" asked the Wabbit. Wabsworth pointed his snazer gun at a window. "I can. But I could use some time and luck." Khargoosh took in his half reflection in a the caffè glass. "You can't escape luck," he muttered in Arabic. The Wabbit laughed. "Then time is our only problem." Lapinette stared into the distance. The city was quietly waiting with not a soul around to keep it company. No trams, no buses, no smell of coffee. Lapinette's snazer suddenly whined as it charged. "I saw movement." Khargoosh screwed up his eyes and peered past Lapinette. "I can see shapes. They're moving like they're injured." The whine from Wabsworth's snazer pierced the summer air and he turned. "Perhaps someone gave them a kicking." The Wabbit kept his eyes forward and powered his snazer to maximum. "Then surely ... they require assistance." Lapinette slipped her edged weapon from a back pocket. "Let's take them to a place of safety and look after them." "Lucky rabbits," said Khargoosh.

13. The Wabbit marshals the Troops

The Wabbit knew that Wabbit Con was out of control. Certainly the team could hear sporadic small arms fire in the distance as rival factions warred. "It's time," said the Wabbit, "to put a stop to this." With breathtaking speed, four hundred rabbits loped through the streets. At 150 hops per minute, the sound of the Wabbit's elite guard was deafening. Specialist units broke away and fire teams poured through side streets in pursuit of trouble. "I need intel," said Lapinette. The Wabbit had to shout. "The Murmurants are sponsored by rabbit pure-breed supremacists called BLU." "Never heard of them," shouted Lapinette. The Wabbit shook his head. "Suddenly they had resources. They came looking for us." Wabsworth yelled across. "BLU is using the Murmurants to discredit us. It calls us the Jambalaya." The Wabbit scowled. He slid a magazine into his automatic and yelled. "We need to take them in." Lapinette placed a paw on her favourite edged weapon. "Any ideas?" "Our agent, Major Spitlove, found their weakness," said the Wabbit. "They'll do anything for teabags," "Pyramid teabags," shouted Wabsworth. "They say they're the purest." The Wabbit checked his bandolier. "That's how they set the Comic Con bomb. They used a vast array of LED tea lights." Being a rabbit, Lapinette was unable to spit. But she made a valiant attempt and grimaced. "Ruffians!"

12. Tipsy and the Zui Quan Approach

Round the corner, Tipsy was waiting. When her radio made the faintest crackle, she took a sip from her glass and lurched. "Hello boys." She staggered to the right, then the left, then stood where she'd been before. Her eyes swirled as she swayed and for a moment she seemed to trip and fall - but she was still on her feet. Her paw clutched her glass tightly and she held it up. "There's a lovely little caffè across the street," she murmured. "Won't someone buy me an ickle dwink?" The Murmurants shifted uneasily. "Go round her," said one. Another tried to move past but she staggered in his path. Every time they made a move, Tipsy was there. A chorus of annoyance echoed round the concourse as the Murmurants shared a secret signal and started to draw on the colours and shapes of the scene. Yet the more they tried to alter themselves, the more Tipsy staggered. No matter what they did, they just couldn't get a fix on the drunken rabbit and the strain was showing. So they gathered together for strength and tried harder. It all happened as they were mid way into a solid transition. Tipsy's jump was sudden. A giant foot slammed forward and a neck cracked like rotten wood. Her leg swept round in a ragged arc. Heads bounced along the concourse and rolled to a stop. It was over so quickly that Tipsy shrugged and hopped forward across the street. "I'll buy my own drink," she grunted.

[Zui quan (Chinese: 醉拳) is Drunken Kung Fu. It's the general name for all styles of Chinese martial arts that imitate a drunkard.]

11. The Wabbit and the Special Ticket

The Wabbit had information from somewhere, so the team followed him to a small arena. It was full of what looked like Murmurants - although it was hard to be certain. They seemed to glimmer in the light and change costumes - then disappear and reappear. But they had a voice. "Impostors!" shouted the crowd. "And you're not the real Wabbit. Your ears aren't right." The Wabbit hopped forward. "I might be an impostor," he yelled. "But you might just be unlucky and I'm the real deal." The crowd murmured threateningly as the Wabbit held up a card. "This is printed with explosive ink and it could blow us all to Kingdom Come." A Murmurant dressed as Lapinette nudged another. "That's got to be him, so let's get out!" A trickle of Murmurants quietly left, followed by others. "So if you're feeling lucky," continued the Wabbit, "you could hang around and see what transpires." More Murmurants left. "On the other paw," continued the Wabbit, "this could be an ordinary ticket that admits the bearer to all exhibits, functions and hospitality." The Wabbit's bared his teeth. "... in which case I'm going to raffle it. Who'll be the first to test the ticket?" More Murmurants made their way to the exits until only one figure remained. "Perhaps you, Major Spitlove?" grinned the Wabbit. The Wabbit's double agent grinned back. "Was that a trick, Commander?" The Wabbit flicked a nail lightly across the card and dropped it. As it fell, it began to glow and they all started to run.

10. The Wabbit and the Worthless Idol

The team made its way out of the Giant Wabbit. But at every corner the Wabbit tucked something into niches, crevices, fissures and crannies. Wabsworth nudged Skratch the Cat. "When we hit the street, get ready to run!" "Run!" yelled the Wabbit. Wabsworth's foot ached due to his recently installed pain subroutine - but he scampered across the concourse with everyone else. Lapinette heard the tiniest of cracks. There was another crack. And another. Then very slowly from the bottom upwards, the Giant Wabbit disintegrated and gently collapsed into a pile of fragments. A mushroom cloud of fine dust cloaked the Giant Wabbit's ears. "Detestable, worthless idol," muttered the Wabbit. Lapinette was the first to stop and she slowly turned to gaze. "How did you do that?" The Wabbit was pleased Lapinette hadn't turned into a pillar of salt. "With Cracksmellite," he said, "totally safe for restrictive demolition." "Where did you find it?" asked Wabsworth. "Bengaluru," shrugged the Wabbit, "by mail." Wabsworth sighed. "Wabbit, is there anything you can't get?" Skratch looked at the heap of fragments and smiled for a long time. "What the Wabbit can't get, I will." The Wabbit's 28 teeth suddenly flashed. "So get me a packet of cinnamon Tic Tacs."

9. The Wabbit and Value of Vultures.

It was a surprise, but the team went into action. "I'm a fan and I have a vulture!" said the Wabbit. Lapinette thought fast and kicked Wabsworth in the foot. "I also have a vulture," he shouted. The creatures froze. Skratch looked at the Wabbit. "Where did you get your vulture?" The Wabbit smirked. "I mailed many tokens for it." Lapinette smiled sweetly. "I get entrance to the VIP tent and if I show my vulture, I can shake the paw of our hero, the Wabbit." "You can't come in here!" yelled a creature. The Wabbit stamped his foot. "My vulture says admit the bearer anywhere at any time." Despite the pain in his ankle, Wabsworth gasped in awe and he turned to stare at the creatures. "Show us your vultures!" "We are the Murmurants," said a creature, "and Murmurants have no vultures." "Then you shouldn't be here at all," said the Wabbit. Skratch spoke with an angry growl. "You don't look like fans, so leave fan business to us." The Murmurants set up a thoughtful murmuration that agreed with itself and said, "Maybe you have some spare vultures?" "I might," said the Wabbit. "But not here." Silence fell but the Wabbit broke it. "You can get them in the kiosk in Via Nizza." The Murmurants shuffled out but as they moved down the stairway, they inexplicably vanished against the brickwork. "That was too easy," said the Wabbit, "they bought the whole thing." Wabsworth shook his head. "No they didn't." ...

8. The Wabbit hears himself Speak

With the Agents of FAN gone, the team hacked their way into the Giant Wabbit. There was only one way to go. Ignoring the elevator at the insistence of Wabsworth, they climbed the curious stairs. The Wabbit sniffed an exotic smell. "This isn't brick is it?" "It feels like Aerogel," said Wabsworth. "Liquid smoke!" said Lapinette. "I feel something else," said the Wabbit. "Like someone was staring into my back." The loudspeaker on the wall barked with the Wabbit's own voice. "What am I bringing for luck?" it crackled. They had only taken a few hops more when the speaker barked and again the Wabbit's voice sang out. "No amount of careful planning can beat good luck." This was beginning to creep the Wabbit out. His head throbbed, his bones ached and his fur itched but there was no respite. "Luck," said his voice, "is when preparation meets opportunity." "Oh, kill it!" snapped the Wabbit. There were deafening blasts and ricochets as Lapinette's automatic spat several times. Now the Wabbit's loudspeaker voice was as slow as pond water - and each word seemed to be an effort. "That was cha cha chance. Do you have any luck luck luck left over?" The loudspeaker clattered into shards and silence replaced the ricochets. Low, ominous sounds swirled around the stairway walls. "Are these whispers?" asked Lapinette. "No," said the Wabbit. "That was a murmuration ..."

7. The Wabbit and the Agents of FAN

The Wabbit escaped from hospital with stolen medication and bandages. The knock on his head left with him some kind of sixth sense, so it wasn't hard to find the team. But the team had already spotted unusual goings-on. A giant Wabbit towered above the buildings, surrounded by chanting fans who seemed familiar, but weren't what they seemed. "I am the authentic Wabbit and no other Wabbit precedes me," boomed the giant Wabbit. The fans were delirious. "Blessed be the Wabbit! Blessed be!" The giant Wabbit lifted a paw. "I am the Wabbit of the past, the future and a bit later on." Lapinette dug Skratch gently in the ribs and whispered. "That thing does sound like the Wabbit." "He put on weight," quipped Skratch, "it's the hospital food." Lapinette sniffed and in her mind she could see her Wabbit. "You're supposed to be resting," she thought. The Wabbit heard it. "I was bored," he murmured. "That's no excuse," thought Lapinette. The Wabbit tried to control his enhanced power and projected it at the giant Wabbit. Its paw flailed wildly and a booming staccato echoed from the walls. "Wab wab wab wabbit." "Wab wab wab wabbit," yelled the fans. "Bitty bit bit bit bitwab," slurred the giant Wabbit. "Bitwab"" roared the throng. "Now seek out sustaining sustenance," boomed the giant Wabbit, "but keep one tenth for The Wabbit." As the fans departed, Skratch looked bemused. "He's very fair for a giant."

6. The Search for the Perpetrator

There was no shortage of volunteers to look for the culprit and Lapinette balanced on Susan's wing as she sped to Lingotto. "How's the Wabbit?" asked Skratch the Cat. "Complaining," shouted Lapinette. Wabsworth grimaced. "When I get the perpetrator, I'll rip his stem from his stern." "We haven't got one yet," yelled Lapinette. "I want ideas!" Susan's engine whined, chugged and rattled as she raced close above the tracks. Skratch gripped the fuselage and looked for clues. "What about enemies?" Wabsworth shook his head. "The city is full of Wabbit fans dressed as enemies." Lapinette shouted through the wind. "What about the Fanbots?" "They're citizens," shrugged Wabsworth. "I'm guessing a malignant voyeur." The wind tore at Skratch's fur and he screamed to make himself heard. "Anyone missing? Someone we've forgotten." A train shrieked past. The noise was unbearable but Skratch's eyes were keen and he jerked round. "I think I saw something." Lapinette grabbed a strut and turned. "What kind of something?" Skratch hissed and arched his back like a wildcat. "Something isn't right. Wabsworth. Can you land Susan here?" "I can very well land myself," snorted Susan and she flew vertically upwards, twisted in the air and dived. Everyone except Wabsworth gasped in the g-forces. "Bank angle, bank angle," shouted Susan, "stall, stall, stall!" "Is she always like this?" gulped Skratch. "Invariably," sighed Wabsworth.

5. Touch and Go for the Wabbit

The Wabbit stared down. He could see his body in the wreckage and he could hear voices. "Clear!" The Wabbit wasn't feeling clear at all. The voices were shouting. "What's your name?" Suddenly the Wabbit saw himself signing autographs at Wabbit-Con. But the more he signed his name, the less he could remember it. "Clear!" There it was again. The Wabbit watched as he signed Clear on a programme. "We're losing him. Again!" The Wabbit felt a shudder and the voices got louder. "Do you know where you are?" The Wabbit saw his younger self hopping along a stony beach. "Loch Lomond," he murmured. He heard a flat electronic whine that just wouldn't stop. "He's gone," said a voice. The Wabbit watched himself hop into the loch. "Epinephrine. Stat!" The Wabbit sank beneath the water. The loch felt cold and tangles of weed stretched out to grasp his paws. "Again. Clear!" The Wabbit looked up through water that shimmered with a clear green light. Now he made out a quiet voice. "It's over." "No," said another. Something whacked his body with the force of a water cannon and he reached for the surface and kicked. The Wabbit gasped and spluttered as faces swam between him and the light. "Welcome back, Commander." The Wabbit blinked. Everyone was looking down at him. "What's up?" said the Wabbit. "Is it my turn to buy drinks?"

4. The Wabbit and a Touch of Menace

Inside the Main Hall, special guests gathered for the preview of Wabbit Con. "Ah Wabsworth," said the Wabbit, I hope I'm on that list." Wabsworth waved his clipboard. "My list is blank. I'll write you in and you can be first." The Wabbit smiled and viewed the hall. "I must say the Department has done well." Lapinette agreed but did not say she had routed cash from the Wabbit's Dinosaur Fund to pay for refreshments. The Wabbit relaxed and watched adventure stills on the big screen. But through light jazz playing from the sound system, drifted a conversation between two fans dressed as Lapinette. "Where are you from, darling?" "Los Angeles, honey." "How fabulous. I'm from London." "I love London. Say, can you hear a ticking?" "No, it must be part of the music." "Well it's going right through my head." The Wabbit swung and tuned his ears to fans dressed as Ice Mice. "I do like jazz," said one, "but the percussion isn't right." "Do you mean that ticking?" "Yes, I can't get rid of it. It's all I can hear." The Wabbit turned to Lapinette. "Have you got a ticking noise?" Lapinette frowned and listened hard. "It sounds like an oven timer." The Wabbit sprung in the air and yelled at the top of his voice. "Free aperitivi in the basement!" In the stampede that followed, he pushed Lapinette under the jeep. The Wabbit heard the roar and saw the flash before everything went black ...

3. The Wabbit and Wabbit-Con

Lapinette had dragged the Wabbit for a hop to the Medieval Castle, but it was more crowded than usual. "Passes please!" said a familiar voice. "What in the Binky for?" growled the Wabbit. "You have to have a pass," said Skratch the Cat, "or you can't come in." Lapinette grinned maliciously. "It's for Wabbit-Con. Your fans are arriving from all over." The Wabbit looked all around. "No-one tells me a thing." "It's a Department PR initiative," said Lapinette. "Then I don't need a pass," said the Wabbit, "because I'm the Wabbit." Skratch scrutinised the Wabbit from ears to toe. "How do I know you're the real Wabbit? You might be a fan." "Then how do I know you're the real Skratch?" frowned the Wabbit. "Because today I'm the Cat's Pyjamas," said Skratch. The Wabbit spoke loudly. "I order you to let me in." "No pass, no admission," said Skratch, as he casually nodded a Wabbit fan through. The Wabbit hopped in fury and yelled, "I can prove I'm the Wabbit!" "OK," said Skratch, "let's have it." The Wabbit thought. "I'm the one that sent you to film classes." Skratch smiled an annoying smile. "Everyone knows that - and it's in the journalist press pack." "Oh all right," sighed the Wabbit, "I'll buy a pass." "Pre-orders only," said Skratch, "available from the Pet Shop in Corso Svizzera." The Wabbit scowled, jumped and shrugged at exactly the same time. Skratch glanced at Lapinette. "He just might be the Wabbit." Lapinette pulled an extra pass from her fur. "I'll make sure he behaves." "If you can do that," laughed Skratch. "he's not the Wabbit."