I am living with Pack, but I am not in-Pack. Since I returned from the human settlement with my information for Pack, I have not been as accepted as I had hoped. I didn’t think I had any hope but now it has not been met, I see how I foolishly hoped. Persuading Pack to accept human-made dogs was both easier and harder than I had expected. Pack almost instantly tolerated and even accepted that they are around now. However, over time there has been no interaction with these potentially vital resources. High-notches do not seem able to understand that they might not be sapient, but they already know far more about humans than we do.
I denned in my previous den-pack for the first few nights, until I caught the den-pack unawares and smelled what they were like when I wasn’t around. I couldn’t face making them close themselves anymore. So, I den in the old human structures, with my made-runt pack half a day^ from every-dog. I have returned to Service, but the ever-pups trailing me minimises my ability to guard. I have asked to be put in a provision-pack where we could help but there are no provision-packs who need help at the moment. In preparation, and with little else to do, Pack is putting in infrastructure for crossing the barrier. If the information comes when communications open, we will be ready. We were digging a new outpost for early warning if anything crosses the barrier somehow. The pups started digging alongside the Soil-dogs and made a complete mess of everything. I had to rush them away. I couldn’t even help in the fixing of it, by then Spotless and Late First Eyes Runt^ were running in circles yipping and scuffing up the discard piles.
Most days I travel the local area, looking for ways to apply what I have learnt, to prove the use of my knowledge. Today, I have travelled to the barrier to the Rise of the compound. The pups are investigating and rousing small birds and mammals from their dens. The barrier is on the edge of a wooded area, beyond it there is a big precipice then a big-saltwater. The only scent that seems to pass through the barrier is salt. I can see grasses buffeted by the wind. I should be able to smell them. I can also hear nothing in that direction. It seems cruel to have a barrier that limits the senses so profoundly. How could any individual infer the intentions of any other behind such a barrier? Pack will not drop the barriers and will only cross them on Pack’s terms. But it is obviously expected that some species will.
There is barking in the underbrush, Spotless and Late First Eyes Runt have found something. I re-join them under the trees. Pointy is standing watch, Bouncy is looking to me for instruction, All-Spot is eating something that smells vile and the two noisy pups are shouting into a tree. I scent serious authority and they both return to me. I start a small hunt of a long-eared rodent. We are adept at wild-foraging, although we are provided, it gives something to keep them distracted. All-Spot doesn’t join us, just continues eating his disgusting mess. I drop back to see how well this pack can hunt without me. If they could survive together, I could maybe return to Pack. I know it is an impossibility, a runt-maker who abandons their responsibility is not worth feeding.
I notice a surprising silence from All-Spot. I stop observing the hunt and shift my focus onto him. He has ditched his filth to bound excitedly towards the roots of a fallen tree. I don’t know how any trees are still standing on this windy world. I focus my nose and smell there is some kind of sap-cat^ there. She is with kittens. All-Spot is approaching like this individual is known. There was a feline smell in the human structures, maybe they kept sap-cats too. All-Spot play bows and jumps forward and back in front of this angry parent. Can he not smell what is going to happen? He is not the smartest of this pack, I guess he’ll find out in a moment. The smell of the kill and victory from the hunt spreads into the environment. All-Spot offers packship again to this cross animal. She slashes his muzzle; he yelps and backs up. She retreats inside. Even if humans kept sap-cats, this is not one they kept. I distract him, by nudging the mass of leaves and shit and hair that he was scoffing. He returns to it, looking back at the tree uncertainly with his tail down. The others return, Pointy carrying their kill.
Late First Eyes Runt starts growling. Fearing that she is about to behave not-for-Pack where potentially some-dog might be able to smell it, I throw my scent-horizons wide to detect a hint of any other dog nearby. I catch a scent out of place, another dog is here. Oh Soil, I know which dog it is. Vicious Set. He torments me whenever he can, mocking my contributions to Pack. He can’t find out how unpredictable Late First Eyes Runt is. His torment would only increase. The rest of the pack are joining in with her growl, they all know he is here. He is the only dog who outwardly dislikes them. They don’t trust him, but they do trust Late First Eyes Runt. I will never understand how humans made these dogs and why. I scent-scream at them to be calm and, as a pack, they go belly-down.
Vicious Set saunters over and scents like “a dog may go where they please”. I focus on keeping my hackles down. This small, un-thinking pack would not be able to make him prey but would give him enough fuel to ensure I could never return to Pack at all. I guess, with the barriers, I would also never be fully exiled, I could always live in the human-settlement and sneak to Pack at night and smell dens and dogs and life.
“Vicious Set, I am surprised to meet you here.”
“Quick,” I flinch at the familiarity he always uses, “I have been following your little pack of made-runts all Rise, well done for finally noticing. Pack really is missing out on an excellent warrior in your current gap in Service.” I hate him. He is the only dog that acknowledges I exist, and it is only to ensure I do not forget my crimes. “I smelled you moping by the barrier; I observed how well you cared for your all-spot, deaf, made-runt when even you must have known what would happen to him; I am fascinated what contribution to Pack you are going to make next. Maybe you will use that human branch you have brought with you to climb a tree.” I am stunned, how does he know? I brought the sling I made in the human-settlement to break the solid-air. Of course we have plenty of our own, traditionally made slings, but natural hide is not as sturdy or long as this artificial vine. I have been thinking that this new technology might have applications. I planned on testing it when the ever-pups get tired, after zenith and can be somewhat parked.
“Yes, I want to see if my new sling might be useful to Pack to climb trees. Seeing as Pack has to fight a bird enemy, knowing how to get into trees might be useful. I know that I have found things that are useful to Pack. I am preparing to present some to Notch Quiet Rise. Despite your best efforts, I know I am contributing to Pack.” I say it without thinking. I regret it. Why tell him my plans? Why show him defiance? I didn’t even think I felt defiant. I realise I am not exerting much chemical persuasion on the ever-pups. Late First Eyes Runt and Spotless are one chemical signal away from lunging forward. He would make them prey. I would let down my bent and broken pack even more. I growl them all down.
“Wow, maybe you will impress Quiet” he even thinks he can be familiar with his notch! “you couldn’t stop them tearing each other apart before you slunk back to Pack. Maybe in another 3 cycles they could be useful to a provision-pack as long as they didn’t need to communicate anything complex.” We both know that I have a limited amount of control now and that he is taking that from my jaws. I realise my duty to my small pack is more important than Vicious Set’s desire to destroy me. He is winning now. I will probably lose but I will not make it a win for him. I disengage from him, ignore him and go to my little pack. I start grooming them, sending out waves of calm and ease. It is not long before I have them all calm and they eventually fall to sleep. Vicious Set has sat there, exuding mirth at this demonstration of my control over the ever-pups.
“Time for you to make another momentous discovery for Pack. I will observe and not make any noise, so I do not disturb your little pack.” Anything I do will make it worse, so I might as well attempt some experiments. I sling my cache-pouch and pull out the artificial vine and branch. I check the connection and then attempt to sling it over a low-ish branch. It flies true over the branch and drags the artificial vine over. I try to secure the human-branch under a log so that I can pull myself up with the artificial vine onto the low branch. I tug it, it seems firm. Many a dog has hauled themselves up into trees using vines or branches, but they have limited strength and you are reliant on where they grow. As I begin my climb, I know the vine won’t snap. I climb and feel exhilaration, no-dog would argue this was not a useful discovery for Pack. I have found a tangible contribution. As I get further from the ground, I hear creaking from the log and smell a puff of rot and damp as it flexes under the strain. I do not have time to respond to this before the human-branch comes free and I slam down and the heavy human-branch thuds into the ground next to me.
Vicious Set is chucking. He is silent as he promised, but he is rolling and wagging and scenting pure delight. It should be a wonderful thing to witness but it makes me seethe.
“I will anchor it better in future, then it will take the weight of a dog. I also think it has applications in attack. I used it to break a piece of human-solid-air in the human-settlement.”
“Oh yes, this solid-air, humans use it everywhere, they even fabricate dens out of it.” Despite his contemptuous tone, he is one of the only dogs who has acknowledged listening to anything I have described from the research-trip I conducted.
“Yes, they like light in their private spaces, I think they are basically nose-blind, but they have very heightened sense of sight. They cover huge spaces with monotonous, strong, toxic scents. They use solid-air to fabricate dens, and to make sort of mobile comfort-units. The solid-air is like these barriers, it mutes^ smell and sound but not vision. I broke it with this sling I made from human materials. I have already tried it on the barrier which seems thicker than the solid-air panel in the human-settlement. It’s possible I just don’t have the strength. I was intending to try to swing the weighted end today.”
“Do you think that Pack spent all the time you were gone with your shame waiting for you to come back? No! We have tried all kinds of different ways of applying force to the barrier, it is impervious to force. Let’s face it, each Pack on each world is stuck with each other and no-dog else until they Walk.”
“Even if Pack can’t find a way out, we will be re-united on World when the right to world-roam is given to us. It might not be in the first few cycles, but All-Pack Guider^ No-Eyes, First Eyes Runt Rise promised every dog travelling to another world that they would have a chance to return to World. She said, many would Walk in Service of Pack but that we could live to return.”
“And that seemed like something she was actually able to promise? We do not know when the transport begins. I know I will Walk on this stinking world.” The thought of being stuck in the same air as Vicious Set until I Walk is too much. I must find a way to break the barrier. I am sure the answer is in the tools humans make. There are so many things, I can spend the rest of my life searching for something that will break Pack out.
“Maybe it is not about force alone? The strange construction of wood and metal that the humans use might be relevant to how it broke that solid-air barrier. I can go back to the human-settlement and find out what breaks it the best and return and serve Pack.” I know I sound desperate. The ever-pups are stirring, I can hear them rustling in their pile. I head more towards the barrier. Vicious Set follows, he seems to be fascinated. “Maybe if we could climb with this then we could find the top of it, or maybe it is different higher up.”
I sling my device over another branch. It gets stuck up in a fork. I yank the artificial vine and it comes free, hurtling into the ground with ripped bark and leaves. We both side-step it. If I can get the sling over a higher branch and down to the ground where I can dig an anchor, I could climb into the branches of these trees. The forest is so dense here, I could maybe find a path between trees. I could escape Vicious Set and the ever-pups. They couldn’t follow.
“If you are as good at climbing as you are at swelling then I am sure you will manage to climb the tree.” I flick the metal claw into the tree again. It loops over a flimsy branch that snaps, the metal and wood comes hurtling back to the ground. I wish I didn’t have an audience to my failure. I am sure this method would serve if I were just left alone. “You can’t climb away from your troubles, your made-runt will be waiting for her runt-maker when you fly down from your perch. Maybe you could find some stupid birds to come and intrude in-Pack. Or you’ll find evidence of secret monkey-settlements in the trees. Oh no, you said that humans place dens on the earth and make a notched tunnel to canopy-dens.” I keep focused on my task, I imagine Climbing into the Wilderness, that I would no longer be a burden to Pack. But until the ever-pups Walk they will be a burden I have given Pack. If I can figure it out, maybe Notch Quiet Rise will listen to some of my ideas, let me take a small scouting-pack back to the human settlement with rollers and bring back some more artifacts for researchers. They have been investigating what I already brought. I throw it again. I hook onto a branch at a good height, I carefully begin to lower the heavy end to the floor to dig it in. “You must know that Pack will never let you back in. You are too weird; you are too dangerous. You are unpredictable. Maybe Late First Eyes Runt is exactly as she would have been if you hadn’t attacked me. Maybe she killed her litter-mates in a rage while you raged at me. It’s amazing you ever whelped successfully. Well I guess you barely did, did you?” How does he know everything about me? Some-dog from den-pack must have told him about my low success rate before. The metal claw is caught in a tangle of leaves and branches and I tug it again. “Funny how you interpreted the humans as species-wide runt-makers. Desperate to imagine a place where you would be in-Pack? When did you first realise that you were never going to serve Pack? But, oh yeah, silly me, you are serving Pack. By making runts, collecting made-runts, bringing an unpredictable pack who need provisioning into Pack, taking provision from dogs who need it more. Letting down Pack, letting down your den-pack, your whelp-mate. You really are a sorry excuse for a warrior, Rise and Soil-dog.” I wish he would stop hurting me. I wish the taint of being a runt-maker fell on him. He made Late First Eyes Runt as much as I did. How can he walk so confidently mocking my actions that he induced? I wish he felt the empty hollow aching I feel missing Pack every day when I wake with the empty-dogs. I wish he knew a moment of pain. I yank the device free.
As I do, Late First Eyes Runt and Spotless, having woken, send up a row as they meet the sap-cat that All-Spot wanted to bepack. Both Vicious Set and I focus our ears on this unexpected sound. In a half-heartbeat, I hear the most sickening sound I have ever heard followed by a smell that fills my stomach with fear and despair. I turn and confirm. The heavy device fell onto Vicious Set. It struck him on the head. It has cracked his skull and split his skin, I can smell blood, freshly-broken bone and brain.
He is unconscious. He hasn’t Walked. I send up a howl, frantically scent-mark, try to protect him from Damp-animals and then leave, running full pelt to the nearest outpost. There will be some stores there, maybe even a quarter-dog.^
By the time I have returned to Vicious Set, with two warriors and a quarter-dog running with my responsibility-pack, it is clear he is not going to Walk. Nor will Vicious Set truly survive. The wounds in his skull and skin can be healed. Only time will tell what damage it will do to his mind. The warriors are uncomfortable with my pack. I try to park them, but the emotions are overwhelming, and they randomly bark or howl or whimper. By the time the quarter-dog is happy for Vicious Set to be moved in a stretcher, they have all thought it. I can feel it in their bodies and scents. They are frightened of me. I have become something that most dogs did not think was real, a serial runt-maker. My sling did this. He was alone with me. I even wished he was hurt. I am the worst dog that has existed. If I had notches, they would take them from me. On World, I would be exiled so Pack would be safe from me. What will happen here?
“Join us going to HQ. It is for Pack Guider to decide how to protect Pack.” The quarter-dog heads the pack. I follow, with my pack, still unsure of the situation but feeling the tension in the pack. The warriors travel in First Eyes with a stretcher slung between them, carrying Vicious Set. I guess he and I both got what we wanted. I will never be accepted into Pack again and he has experienced pain.