Oh, atomic dog

Futuristic bow-wow

Ruff -- George Clinton

Several weeks had passed for Kid in the box. He was hearing more, understanding more. Where he didn't have a frame of reference for human things before, Blood was helping him fill in the gaps. Blood had been here quite a long time, as far as any of them could tell, but Ranger had been here the longest. Kid was afraid of Ranger, and didn't spend much time "talking" to him. On the other hand, Ranger didn't communicate all that much. He seemed to have fallen into himself, staring at something that he couldn't quite see beyond the end of his nose, as Blood put it.

Blood was a good friend to Kid, though. Blood had rambled a lot of different places with his previous owner, but the stories he told Kid didn't seem terribly plausible. During Blood's lifetime, a war had happened, a war that divided the country that he was living in beyond repair, even though the war itself was happening far, far away. Blood talked of humans and all the things they did, they used, they created, they destroyed. Jack, Blood's owner, had been caught up somehow in that war, and didn't return. Then there was a terrible flood that destroyed nearly everything. Blood had managed to survive by eating dead things that floated nearby him, although he wouldn't say precisely what those things were. And then he had been brought here.

Today, Blood had been taken out of his box by the coats. Every time the coats came, Kid got more and more frightened. If Blood's Jack could go away and never come back, and if his own dam and whelp-mates could be taken away from him, never to be seen again, Kid figured that there would be a day that Blood wouldn't return. And if Blood didn't return, then he would have to take his place. Or Fang's place, if Fang ever finally succumbed to whatever they were doing to him. Fang currently was sleeping. Whenever he was in the box, he slept. Blood said it was probably because of the experiments Fang had to endure.

Kid twitched. The spot between his shoulder blades was sore. Several days in a row, Kid had been injected with something. Blood gave Kid a once-over and decided that he'd been chipped. Chipped? Kid had asked. Blood replied that they all had been chipped for different purposes, with some new nano-technology. Kid didn't understand. He didn't understand much at all. But he kept learning new things day after day. However, Kid could find no comfort in his new-found knowledge – only a growing sense of dread.

Blood was suddenly brought back in and unceremoniously dumped back into his box with a bone-shaped cookie. Blood snapped it up, and then shook himself hard.

Blood?

Yeah, Kid?

Are you okay?

Yeah, Kid, I'm okay.

What did the coats do to you?

They made me look at pictures. I was supposed to look at the pictures and then they read how the chips processed what I was looking at.

Pictures of what?

There was one. It was a beach ball next to a gravestone.

Why would someone take a picture of a beach ball next to a gravestone?

Damned if I know, Kid, but I looked at that thing for a good while. But the chips didn't process that that was what I was looking at.. The printout said I was seeing a woodpecker on a picnic table.

A woodpecker on a picnic table?

Yeah, Kid, what the fuck do you think this is? Dictation? A fucking woodpecker on a fucking picnic table, yeah.

How did the coats know you were seeing a woodpecker on a picnic table?

I don't know how the machine works, Kid. I just know that I was looking at one thing and seeing another. Then the coats kept working with the electrical pulses that power the chips. Kept fucking electrocuting me, is what they did.

I don't want the coats to do that to me.

What, you think I enjoy this shit? And anyway, it seems like you got the upgraded version. Your chips were implanted with a syringe, once they put the other motherboards in your head. Mine had to be surgically implanted. Ranger got it the worst, though. He got the original working model.

I'm glad the coats put a cover back on his head.

Me too, Kid.

Blood? If you and me and Ranger are the same sort of experiment, why is Fang in here with us? You said he was chipped too, but they keep . . . making him breathe that gas. It smells terrible.

I think the point is that they wanted to get more in-depth information of how the near-asphyxiation affects him. Not just on a cellular and metabolic level, but on an emotional level. I'm certain it's some kind of war-fare shit, but don't hold me to that. Perhaps after the war that Jack was in, the bigwigs needed to find another way to decimate other countries.

I don't understand, Blood.

Me neither, Kid. I'm guessing that most of the dogs in here have a similar set-up. Probably the coats think that this will be a better way of extracting data from us. As opposed to actually having to pay attention to what we do.

Lazy fuckers.

Don't say the word "fucker", Kid.

You and Fang do, all the time.

What I'm saying is don't get all jaded and bitter, and don't ignore a single thing that goes on around here. Keep watching, and listening, like Ranger does. I'm sure that Ranger knows more about what's going on than he is able to tell us. I think he can actually get into the coats' heads.

You mean . . . reading their minds? Why won't he tell us what the plans are?

I don't think he can. You see how he is. He sometimes thinks he's still "Poppet", living the high life with his 'Mistress' and a bag of kibble. And Fang is just too volatile. He's going to mess up the whole works for us if he's not careful. But we need him, we need muscle on our side.

Muscle? For what?

For when we get out of here, Kid.

Out?

If these coats succeed in what they're trying to do to us, we will be very dangerous dogs indeed. I need you to learn as much as you can when they start you on the picture game. Try to get into their heads without them knowing. For all we know, you might even able to tell the coats what to do. But don't. Not yet. We need all the time we can get. Busting out of here without full knowledge of our capabilities isn't going to be helpful.

But why should I be able to do all that?

Because you've got the latest version of the hardware, Kid. You're currently their greatest success.

Ranger was listening this time; in fact he listened most of the time. Mistress had always told him that he had two ears but only one mouth. Mistress was always good for little pithy things like that.

Oh, she was so beautiful, Mistress was, with her long, long, hair.

The terrier sighed deeply.

Mistress? Where are you?

The terrier drifted off to sleep.