Somewhere during the reign of the fifty ninth Emperor Morellius, it became fashionable for different natural born family groups to practice routine bodily mutilation on their children, as to create an artificial distinction where none existed in nature. Now it has spread so widely nobody even questions why they do it anymore, and rabbits can recognise distant relations they don't know simply by the scar over one eye or slit in the ear lobe. They nod, mutter a greeting, then continue on their way, getting something of a boost from the feeling of exclusivity.

In the family of Jack, Morellius' treacherous courtier and would-be rebel, the routine mutilation practised is to nip off the tip of the ear. (The nip used to be taken from the shaft of the ear, until a distant relation of Jack's discovered another family doing this, which has proved a point of contention between the groups ever since.) The procedure is performed shortly after birth, before the rabbit is weaned from his mother. Of course, women being common warren property, only the males are mutilated in this way, and potential fathers are very precious and exacting over determining just which females they have and have not impregnated.

Sometimes Jack wished his father - for it is the fathers who nip off the tip of their own son's ear - hadn't bitten off so much. It gave him this peculiarly lopsided appearance, and even though he knew it was all in his mind really, he often felt like one side of his head was heavier. He also didn't think the wound had ever really healed properly. Occasionally he would wake up in the middle of the night and feel the rough-hewn edges of the bite mark smarting for no reason.

It was hurting now, as he crept along to make his secret rendezvous down in the stream-bottomed glade between this hillside and the next. Perhaps it was the increased blood flow through his ears causing the burning sensation. His heart was racing faster than he was, making his ears feel hot atop his head. But he was also bright and alert. He would be able to see, hear or smell any pursuers, but there weren't any. He stopped once more before slipping between the trees.

He heard whispering voices coming from the glade and followed them to their source. Two rabbits were waiting for him by the side of the stream, staring into the trickling water with their backs to him. He didn't recognise the second rabbit, the one with the deeper voice, but the first was Casper, who he'd come to see.

"Casper?" he called out tentatively.

Casper turned abruptly and lifted his nose into the ear to look down it at the approaching Jack. Once upon a time, Casper had been his superior amongst the Emperor's courtiers - until Boxer had sullied his name and replaced him. Casper was a squat, mottled natural born who had so many scars it was difficult to tell just which wounds were from battle and which were familial distinctions.

"What kept you so long?" he snapped.

"Some new recruits to our little rebellion."

"Oh." Casper snorted and turned back to the water.

"I thought you'd be pleased," Jack continued, coming down to the water's edge and trying for the life of him to remember where he'd seen that other rabbit before. "One more rabbit on our side is one less enemy."

"Yes," said Casper in a long, drawn-out way. "But at this rate, Morellius is going to die of natural causes long before you and I can tear the gizzard out of his mangy fat body, Jack." He snorted again.

"Patience, Casper, you must have patience."

"Don't condescend to me, Jack."

Jack stopped beside them. The silent third rabbit - a chocolate coloured captive bred - continued to stare into the stream. Casper regarded Jack with his usual sleepy look as the wily courtier lapped at the water. Casper's weary demeanour fooled many an opponent into thinking him an easy fight. Yet his unbeaten record at being, well, unbeaten had led him to rise the ranks ahead of the rest.

"I tire of your postponements, Jack," he said.

Jack finished drinking, looked up and licked his lips.

"You told me you could oust Morellius months ago," Casper continued. "Yet here we are, and he's as strong as ever. What's going on?"

"Okay, I admit it," Jack said quickly. "Some of my claims have been pretty extravagant, and some of my plans have been a little bit scattershot."

"A little bit?" the third rabbit muttered.

Jack glared at the rude stranger angrily.

"Well, for what it's worth, Jack, I think we should go back to your first plan, after all." Casper sounded sarcastic. "What was it now? Oh, yes, kidnap Morellius' twin brother, hypnotise him into thinking he was Morellius, then kill the real Morellius and replace him with the one under our control."

"Hey, technically, it could have worked."

"You don't know hypnosis!" Casper cried.

"And Morellius has no twin," the third rabbit added.

"He doesn't?" the other two asked together.

The stranger shrugged nonchalantly then returned to watching the clear spring water pouring over the smooth pebbles.

"Mere technical flaws," Jack muttered.

"Fatal ones," the rabbit told him.

"Anyway," Jack growled over the top of him. "My latest plan is a winner. It's the best yet. And I mean that, this time. It's effortlessly simple. It's already in motion, actually. The outcome is inevitable. We just have to push events our way."

"Go on," Casper said, sounding dubious.

So Jack told him his theory, the same one he'd told Kurt, about how the warrens beneath Roadkill Turnpike would be full beyond capacity in a few short months. Casper listened intently throughout, but the other rabbit just continued to stare into the stream, no less disinterested than he was before.

"Well," Casper said, rolling his shoulders when Jack had finished. "At least it sounds a bit more plausible than the last one. Spreading rumours that Morellius' mother was a captive bred half cast, I ask you..."

"So you like, then?" Jack asked eagerly.

"But it means waiting so much longer," Casper whined.

"Yes, yes, but apart from the wait..."

"It'll suffice," he said. He looked at his companion. "What do you think?"

The chocolate rabbit lifted his head, shook it, then looked back down again.

"Then it would appear we have a problem..."

"What?!" cried Jack, incredulously. "The plan's fine a minute ago but one swift dismissal from this moody, morose motherfucker and all of a sudden it's not good enough anymore? What gives? Just who is this guy?"

"This is Jesus Christ, Jack."

Jack rolled his eyes. Now he knew how he knew him. "Oh, crap. Why'd you have to go and get yourself involved with this guy, Cas? I thought you wanted a credible alternative to Morellius, not a load of ghost stories and fairytales. Now nobody's going to take us seriously!"

Casper looked a little nervous at this blasphemy, especially as Jesus looked up once more and it seemed to take quite a bit to make him contribute.

"There is only one ghost," he said. "And that is the Holy Ghost. Whether you choose to believe in it or not. As for fairies, I can't say I have ever met any, but I like to think I am open-minded as to the many possibilities of God's creation."

"Ah, yes, God," Jack drawled. "The giant rabbit in the sky. Yes, I've been to one of your sermons. Morellius wanted me to check up on you. Make sure you weren't some dissident subversive preaching against him..."

"Oh? And what did you tell him?"

"The truth," Jack said sharply. "That you're just a particularly imaginative storyteller who entertains the kiddies. He told me to go back and find you and ask if you'd come and be his own personal jester, actually, but I couldn't be arsed, to be honest, so I just told him I found you and you said no."

"I see," Jesus said quietly, unfazed.

"Jack," Casper said through his teeth. "You shouldn't be talking to Jesus in this way. You really don't know the influence he has."

"Influence?" Jack sneered. "What influence does he have?"

"You might actually be surprised," Jesus told him. "I can't imagine this sermon of mine you heard was a recent one if the only others in attendance were youngsters. Recently I have been attracting crowds of hundreds, of all ages, natural borns and captive breds alike... though mainly captive breds."

"Jesus has quite an influence over our captive bred kin," Casper explained, almost as an aside. "They have loyalty to him none of them have for Morellius. Some believe he will lead them to salvation. Think how we can use that..."

"He's just a storyteller," Jack hissed.

Jesus sighed. "If you had been hearing some of the things I have been saying against Emperor Morellius lately, you wouldn't be saying that," he warned. "In fact, I think my being a mere storyteller is exactly what Morellius would want you to think, had he heard both my preachings and my prophecies..."

"Jesus used to be owned by a family of humans," Casper explained. "Tell him about the binding of parchments, Jesus. Listen to him, Jack. This object, when opened, inspires you to spout wisdom about love and salvation."

"Love and salvation?" Jack snorted.

"It's true," Jesus said sagely. "But, alas, this thing, this Holy Bible, is no more meant for humans than it is about them. No, it's for and about rabbits. The humans were oblivious to the teachings of the very things it moved them to speak of. There was no love or forgiveness in that human hovel. The humans would ritually strike their own as if they were enemies, and then they would come crying before me. And it was then that I realised my calling was beyond the bars of my cage..."

"Jesus escaped!" Casper hissed.

"Yes," Jesus continued. "The humans clearly believed the Bible told them stories of humans, yet I swiftly realised that Jew, Israelite, Children of Zion, these are not humans, but type of rabbits. And all kept imprisoned by some foe. Egyptians, Romans, these are all just names for wicked human beings. I knew I had to escape. I wanted to bathe in the wise inspirations of this Bible myself."

Casper hopped up and down excitedly.

"It took me a while of sitting on top of the thing before I realised the ramifications of why they had called me Jesus Christ, but when I eventually managed to open all the different parchments, all I could find were funny squiggles like squashed gnats on every sleeve. Yet, somehow, out of the mess, there appeared a certain familiarity. Some of these squiggles ran true in my head, I had heard them read so many times. And thus I taught myself to read."

"Hang on a minute," Jack said boisterously. "And just where were the humans whilst you were out of your cage and sitting on this book? And, anyway, how did you escape? Did you just bend the bars with these magical powers you profess?"

Casper puffed out his cheeks angrily. "Jack!"

"I'm just reaching this part in the tale," Jesus replied patiently. "Now, where was I? Oh, yes. I sat reading this book, and my own name kept leaping out at me from the pages. Like the Jesus Christ of the Bible, I was a persecuted minority. I was a Jew amidst the evil empire of the Romans. And I shared his insight, his vision, not just his predicament. Perhaps I had misjudged the humans and perhaps they knew the Bible spoke of rabbits not humans. And perhaps they knew I was the reincarnated saviour of ancient rabbitkind. Or perhaps they didn't. I'd like to think they didn't. There would be a delicious irony there if they didn't."

"And you escaped... how?"

"God," Jesus said plainly.

"The giant rabbit in the sky?"

"That's right. The giant rabbit in the sky. The one who created all of the Earth and the creatures that inhabit it, and sent me before when his chosen people were in need, and has sent me again now. By his power, I was able to escape from my cage in that human habitation. I myself have no magical powers and make no claim otherwise. Following my escape, it was God who led me here. It is here that my work will be done. Once more I must lead my people to salvation. Yet the enemy here, the Romans, the Egyptians, are no longer human. Alas, they are our very own brethren. Our greatest foe is our closest brother. The natural borns."

Casper nodded sagely, then did a double take.

"Not all of them, of course," Jesus quickly added. "Do not be mistaken as to the enemies of God's cause. We can make no racial distinction. Spiritual righteousness is case of allegiance to the one and true God, not the colour of your fur or the size of your rear end. Casper may be a natural born, but before God his soul is that of a captive bred. I hope, in time, I will be able to say the same for all the rabbits of Roadkill Turnpike. Including you, Jack."

"No offence, Jesus, but don't count on it," Jack scoffed. "I heard you got dumped here in an upturned cardboard box, just like every other captive bred. Call me a cynic, but I don't think visionary promises of a blue skied future are going to convince even the most wishful thinkers amongst the captive breds that there's a giant rabbit in the sky who has sent you to lead them to salvation."

Jesus stuck out his lower lip, a gesture of uncertainty. "Actually, they seem to be convincing themselves pretty well, as it goes."

"Have they now?" said Jack sarcastically.

"The mushrooms, Jack!" Casper cried.

"Mushrooms?"

"The giant mushrooms in the sky! Surely you've seen them! It's a sure sign from God. Look, I wasn't ready to listen to Jesus before. I thought it was all claptrap too, but then I saw the mushrooms sprouting on the horizon. It's obvious, isn't it? God is planting food and nourishment for his people. He is raising us to full strength so that we can fight against his enemies. And look what has happened since! How many humans have we seen come down here since the last mushroom appeared?"

Jack faltered. Though this was still ridiculous...

"Exactly!" Casper spat. "None! Elsewhere there are rabbits, our kin, rising up and fighting our traditional enemies, the humans. Here, the battle is with the rabbits who would subjugate their own kind. Morellius."

"But..." Jack trailed off. He could argue. This was a flimsy story and just fitted all the facts far too perfectly. However, that was beside the point. He had come to discuss plans for a rebellion against Emperor Morellius with an interested party and Jesus Christ was another one of those. And, were Casper's claims to be believed, an increasingly powerfully influential one at that.

"But?" Jesus prompted him.

"But nothing," Jack said. "What can I say? You converted me.

NOTES:
I thought of showing the reunion between Peter and Mopsy, but where could I go with it? A load of tears and hugs? No way. The events of this chapter were originally planned to constitute a third of it - but then this whole Jesus Christ thing popped in and I went with the flow to get in all the cheap religious digs. Perhaps suicidally, I'm trying to make the situation of the growing rebellion increasingly complicated. During the course of this chapter I completely altered my plan of the next major development. I hope it doesn't show.