DogForge (16 page)

There was chaos everywhere. Groups moved throughout the hall. Bellowing shouts were followed by snarling and violence. The air was thick with the fear of ten thousand dogs.

Denali snuck a glance away and saw one of the other groups being assaulted by sizzling lances. They were driven away out of the hall.

“You!” a voice bellowed out.

Denali snapped her head forward.
Oh no!

“Name!”

“Denny.”

“Oh! Oh! Oh! Denny!” The armored form raced forward and leaned close to Denali.

She stared at the armored head and looked away.

“Denny Forge, that is your name, and you will, with every single thing you say, end it with
ma’am!
”

The other armored dogs took places around the edge of the conscripts.

“Now name, little miss Denny!”

“Denny Forge, ma’am!”

“Louder!”

“Denny Forge, ma’am!”

The armored head shook from side to side and looked to the floor. “Louder! Let Caesar know you’re here!”

“Denny! Forge! Ma’am!” Denali howled with so much energy that her throat hurt.

The armored dog stepped away. “Better.”

She regarded everyone else with mild disinterest. “I am Sergeant Roo. I will not beat you. I will not bite you. I will not shock you. All of that I leave to my cadre. I am the eyes that will see every mistake you make. I will know when you fail. I will make you fail. But at the end of this I will make you a trooper. Each of you will serve honorably for Caesar, a critical gear in our great machine.”

The group stood silent. They all stared up at Sergeant Roo.

Even the most exquisite gear is still a cog in the machine,
Cicero said.

“Now move!” Sergeant Roo bellowed.

Then the cadre of armored dogs set in and the conscripts ran.

Denali ran as fast as she could in the middle of the pack and hoped that the sizzling, crackling, angry sounding shock baton wouldn’t connect with her. She gave one last look back and saw Illiam bellowing with laughter next to Char the bear.

This, she thought, is going to be interesting.

D
enali ran through metal corridors and zipped past armored dogs, unarmored dogs, and bears. She tried to snatch a glance when she could, but the pace dog, Corporal Rain, was wickedly fast.

“Faster!” he snapped. His face was like a gray weasel and his body lean. “Last one in gets the shock stick!”

They raced through a hall and exploded out into an open hangar. Denali ran past starships, armored vehicles, turreted walkers, and contraptions that had a purpose she didn’t know. She saw the path and tried to find a way to shave a few seconds. There was a distinct disadvantage to having shorter legs than everyone else. Already she’d gotten the shock stick for being last. Not today.

She raced past the crystal windows and stared out at a coronal ejection. Nearby a field of starships glittered in the orange light. The sight took her breath away. A shock stick crackled behind her and snapped her out of her daydream.

Samson charged in the front of the pack. He turned and looked behind him with a grin on his face.

Denali searched for a route that would give her a lead on the others. She learned early on that the cadre rewarded ingenuity. If she could get in front, no one would say a word.

“Don’t even think about it,” Mjol growled. He was the second to last, with Denali holding pace.

She grinned at Mjol and darted into the ranks of the mechanized walkers. She leaped and hopped over the giant feet and tucked beneath ammo carts. The air rushed by and she grinned with excitement.

This was what she loved, the race, but most of all, coming out on top. She loved proving them wrong, and she found more opportunities everyday. She ducked underneath the stomach of a bear and heard it grumble behind her.

The main corridor approached. Corporal Rain snapped past, a grey blur. Denali raced out into the opening and collided with Samson. The two crashed to the ground and the rest of the pack leaped over their tangled legs.

“Stupid!” Samson growled and snapped at Denali.

Mjol rushed past and cackled back at them.

Denali rolled away and scrambled to her feet. Corporal Rain waited in the doorway with a wicked grin and a shock stick. She took two steps and Samson plowed her to the floor. He rushed past Corporal Rain.

“Come on, Denny girl,” Corporal Rain growled.

She gritted her teeth and rushed past. He only struck once and for that she was thankful. Her legs wobbled and she walked into the barracks with her head low. She hated being the last one in. 

––––––––

T
he cadre woke them with blaring lights and shock sticks. The conscripts leaped from their sleeping pads and attacked the steaming breakfast rations. Then they sprinted out to run. Again.

This time Corporal Rain took them on a new path. They sprinted away from the usual cargo bays and found themselves in a new bay filled with starships. They were different from the blunt nosed fighters in the other bays. Some were graceful and light, others blocky and stubby like squares smashed together. On the far side of the bay, a wall of shimmering light marked the end of atmosphere.

Corporal Rain took them in a trail next to the shimmering light. The coolness of the vacuum outside seeped into the floor. The static made their hairs stand on end.

Armored dogs stood at posts all throughout the hall. Armed dogs, Denali noticed, some wore rifle packs on their backs while other wielded fusion lances. She recognized the basic weapons from training session.

They sprinted around the corner of a starship with edges like knives and Corporal Rain barked them to the side. Arrayed near the starship was a company of beings unlike anything Denali had seen yet.

They were soldiers, of that she was sure. Each wore a suit of shiny armor, with faceshields flipped up and the everpresent energy shield buzzing. Their faces were narrow with a beak like a crab. Hard carapace wrinkled up next to a set of metallic eyes. They seemed surprised at seeing the conscripts and some raised weapons.

A dog, striped with rank and half armored, snarled at Corporal Rain. “Corporal! This is off-limits, take these stinking savages somewhere else!”

Corporal Rain halted and snapped off orders to the conscripts with his eyes locked forward. “Move!”

Denali ran past with her head straight forward but her eyes taking in the details. Then she saw more. Beings that were short and fat, things that were tall and spindly, and things traveling inside smoky boxes. They all had escorts of high ranking dogs and Denali saw all of them glaring at the conscripts.

They finally exited the hall and went past a group of somber faced dog-troopers.

Corporal Rain waited until everyone was out and the rest of the Cadre caught up. She stalked down the line and glared at the panting conscripts. “Remember them. Remember the smell. Remember how they look. And never, ever, trust an alien. They’re mercenaries, plain and simple.”

“Corporal!” Mjol barked. “Why use them?”

Corporal Rain glanced back at the armored Cadre and then back to Mjol. “Because we don’t fight men. They do.”

Denali swallowed hard. Men. They said men. Real men.

“Now move!” Corporal Rain barked, and off they went again.

When Denali felt like she couldn’t run a step farther, they marched into a room and sat. She kept her eyes forward and heard the door close. They’d had some class time already, but this place was different. There were cabinets, screens, and lockers.

Sergeant Roo strutted into the room and stood in the corner.

A dog bearing the rank stripe of an officer walked slowly to the front of the room. He smiled and bared his teeth as he scanned the conscripts. His armor was worn in spots, chipped in others, and adorned with campaign awards. He stopped in from of them.

“Why do you fight?” he asked in a low voice. He cocked his head to the side and looked out curiously. “Why do you fight?”

Denali wanted to squirm. They hadn’t had to answer any questions yet, not like this. She darted her eyes and saw the other conscripts also looking. She didn’t want to be the first to answer, but she wanted
someone
to answer.

“Sir! Because we’re ordered to, sir!” a sandy haired dog named Yeti answered.

The officer nodded slowly. “But why?” He watched the room and nodded his head. “I know this is all new and intimidating, so I’ll help you out.”

Denali leaned in, focused. She liked the officer. His manner was calm and cool with a touch of slyness. The way he walked, the way he talked, the control he exerted. She’d follow him anywhere.

“You fight for your families. You fight for your homes.” He let the words hang. “You come from a place that is special, all of you are the best. The toughest. The strongest. The fastest. Your world, and others like it, are made harsh and kept harsh, so that you can protect those who can’t protect themselves.”

Denali felt pride and raised her head up. She wasn’t the only one, others sat rigidly and puffed themselves larger.

Bullshit.

Denali furrowed her brow and pushed away the sarcastic feelings. She’d nearly forgotten about Cicero. She wasn’t even sure if he was real, or just how her brain dealt with the stress.

“Your worlds, while harsh, are crucial. They are the cradle of our elite, but also where we gain crucial minerals and salvage. Without the trials your families endure, there could be no victory.”

The officer stepped aside and walked to the edge of the wall and keyed a data pad. The wall dimmed into a shade of gray and then there was a face of a man. The room was deathly silent.

The man smiled and his eyes glistened. He was bald, with liver spots on his skull, but his face looked young. His eyes were soft and brown with a touch of scar tissue near them. The room around him was adorned in screens, three dimensional displays of star systems and a great brass wheel. He looked out of the screen and nodded with a warm smile.

“My troopers,” he said in a rich accent. “You are the tip of the spear, the brunt of the shield, and the mind of the soldier. All of your lives have led up to this day, this very moment, and for that, I salute you.”

Caesar raised his arm and brought his hand to his brow. A tear ran down the corner of his eye.

He looks the same.

Denali tried to push Cicero out of her mind but she could feel him close. This was her moment! She wanted to savor it, the pride, the duty, but anger seethed out of Cicero.

He’s good at this, god do I know that, the bastard.

“Our borders are under assault, your freedoms are at risk, but justice will be done. And you,” he said with a swing of his arm, “you are the instrument of my wrath.”

“Attention!” the officer barked.

The room jumped up and stood at attention.

“Do your families proud,” Caesar said, and bowed his head.

The screen dimmed back to gray and the image was gone.

Bullshit.

“Sergeant,” the officer called. “You may begin.”

The officer loped out.

Sergeant Roo took his place and stared out with an evil grin. “And you thought it was tough before. Now sit!”

The screen flickered again and writing came upon it in giant block letters.

Denali sat slowly and studied the shapes on the wall. She’d seen it before in the ruins and sprawled on the ageless wreckage of man. Her mind still reeled from the sight of Caesar, a man. Then she thought of Corporal Rain’s comment about the aliens, and how they fight men, not them. A cloud of doubt came over her and she glanced around at the rest of the conscripts. They looked proud, excited, eager.

We can’t attack men. That was why they rebelled.

Sergeant Roo tamped down on the datapad with his armored foot and leaned closer to the conscripts. “This,” he said with a hard voice, “is the letter A.”

Denali wished, more than anything, that she was racing back through the halls. Day after day she absorbed knowledge. The instructors cycled through and repeated letters and numbers. They merged that into words and finally sentences. Two weeks later they were writing crude sentences on a glass plate. A week after, they were reading. Then it clicked.

She delighted in seeing words as they exercised in the mornings.
Engineering
.
Manufacturing
.
Resource Extraction
. At every passage she’d read and was delighted. The meanings didn’t matter to her, it was the fact that a new and amazing layer to the world bloomed.

Then the rate accelerated. They counted and then progressed into basic math. Denali excelled. The others plateaued in arithmetic but Denali grasped everything they tossed at her.

Geometry was like a beautiful dance of lines. She could see shapes in her head and always answered before the rest. She loved the numbers, they tickled her brain. Most of all, she loved the praise. Runt no more, she was at the head of the class.

In the dimness of the barracks hall she’d help those who didn’t understand. They’d sit, half a dozen at a time, and listen as Denali broke down a line of algebra. All except Samson, he did well enough to avoid the tutoring but not well enough to help tutor. He’d glare at Denali. She’d ignore him and take pride in the fact that she had found a place, a place where size alone didn’t dictate who she was.

But still, Cicero’s words haunted her. Anytime she became too excited, his anger and sarcasm bled through. She didn’t dare speak to him, she never had a private moment.

They marched into a hall and stood in ranks of four. Each line held nine dogs. The Cadre spread out to the corners of the room with only Sergeant Roo remaining in the center. The room was nearly a hundred meters wide.

Denali stood in the middle of the third line. She kept her eyes ahead but took in as many details as she could. There was a smell of violence in the air, a touch of sweat, and the scent of caribou. Caribou? She hadn’t tasted real caribou, the sweetest of meats, since... A touch of homesickness came and she exhaled loudly through her nose, purging the home smell.

“You can run. You can read and write. You’ve learned what you fight for,” Sergeant Roo said slowly. He turned his head and snapped a small sphere off of his armor. It fell to the floor with a clunk. “Now you will learn how to fight.”