revised scene: Mike meets the Dogs
I got a really late start (around 3:30pm), but in just 3.5 hours I had a pretty good editing session.
Deleted 1k words, wrote 1k new words, revised 2.5k words.
I had a few goals in the revision of the following scene:
- polished the sentences
- splice together the various threads (@mr_archenemy raised an excellent point that many characters in my various threads showed no awareness that the other characters existed. I needed to either make them interact or explain (or show) why they weren’t interacting.
- keep the coming war front and center.
It’s not perfect, but it’s up to draft 3 standards. It’s already certain that there’ll be a draft 4 (ugh!) so it’ll get better.
== 7 jul 2064: The Den, Aristillus, Lunar Nearside
Mike closed the truck door and stood on the sidewalk. Behind him the other doors were slammed then John and the other two ADF troops stepped up. Mike turned to the guards. “We might be a while – if you guys want to go get a coffee -”
The two troops wore the same improvised uniform of jeans, work boots, and a gray shirt with a few patches as the rest of the hastily-organizing Aristillus Defense Force. The one with more stripes adjusted his rifle. “No, we’ll hang here.”
Mike looked over at John. “Shall we?” Dewitt nodded. The two men walked towards the steel doors, studiously ignoring the gauntlet of armed rovers that skittered out of their way then reformed as they passed – and swiveled their cameras and muzzles the track them.
Mike took a deep breath and raised one hand to knock but the door swung open just before he swung. There was no one there – the door had opened under remote control perhaps. He and John stepped in and the door swung shut behind them. They were in a short hallway that seemed to have been welded together from deck plating. Mike looked at it a an educated eye. Cold rolled, mid-grade. He turned his attention to the slots, sensors, and protuberances. Well, the Dogs hadn’t yet thrown in their lot with the Boardroom Group, but it was clear that they were taking their own defense seriously – if the room they were in wasn’t a perfectly designed kill box Mike had no idea what was.
The far door swung open – and behind it was one of Dogs. Mike swallowed. He’d seen the programs in the media over the past few decades, and he’d seen the interviews on TV…along with the protests, the counter protests, the bioethicists testifying before Congressional, and all the rest…but he’d never actually seen a Dog face to face.
And here he was, face to face with a furry creature…wearing a jumpsuit. The dog – he mentally corrected himself with a capital letter – the Dog was standing on two legs. After a moment it dropped to all fours. He caught himself staring at the tail poking out of the jumpsuit. He suddenly realized that he was frozen and blurted out “Uhh…hello.”
The Dog spoke in a voice that was simultaneously throaty yet young and enthusiastic. “You must be Mike.” Mike blinked. It was like talking to an eight year old cub scout…who happened to be a two-pack-a-day smoker. Despite having reviewed old video an hour earlier and having specifically steeled himself for the experience Mike was still caught a bit off guard.
“Ummm…yes.”
“I’m Aabroo.”
“Ah…nice to meet you.” Mike paused. “I’m sorry, this is a bit awkward. Do you – shake?”
The corner of Aabroo’s mouth curled. A smile? Did Dogs have the same facial expressions as humans? Or maybe this was a sign of anger? Or disdain? “Not among ourselves, but, yes, sometimes. Hi Mike.nice to meet you.” Aabroo had sat back on his – her? – haunches, tilting her spine back and her head up, and extended her front right paw.
Mike decided it was a “her” – there was something feminine about her face…and her dark eyes…but he decided to avoid pronouns until he was sure.
The Dog cleared her throat.
The paw – right. Mike took the proffered extremity and shoot it delicately. The paw was noticeably longer than the paw of a regular household dog, and noticeable shorter and squatter than the hand of a person. It felt odd in his hand – warm, dry, rough pads against his palm, and a light covering of short fur on the back where his fingers wrapped around.
The short nails against his palm felt distinctly odd.
“Nice to meet you as well, Aabroo.” He realized then that he’d said that twice now.
John cleared his throat. “May we come in?”
Aabroo blinked. “Oh. Sorry, yes, please do.”
The two men stepped out of the kill box and into the larger room that contained it. Mike looked around. It had been a nice entry way – and probably not that long ago. The carpet that had been torn up was still stashed in rolls in one corner, steel I-beams anchored the deck plate walls of the kill box to the floor and ceiling, and bollards surrounded the box. Cement dust caked parts of the floor and epoxy residue was splashed on the lower edges of the bollards. As Mike stepped further into the room he saw the machine guns that pointed into the kill box, and saw small a long lines of LEDs lights winking on and off down a darkened corridor. Jesus – this place had more armament in it than the Phoksundo DMZ. Just as he was about to say something about the room Aabroo spoke “This isn’t the most hospitable room – let me take you to Blue and Max.”
It had only been a minute but Mike was already mastering the weirdness of the situation. “Great – please.”
Aabroo lead them deeper into the complex. They passed several closed doors – and a few that were cracked open. From more than one Mike saw dark intense eyes peering out close to the floor. Kids – puppies? In one open door there were two small heads, one atop the other. A third head wiggled in next to the first two and there was a squeak and then a bark. Aabroo whirled and faced them. “Jeff, Kilroy, Chin – don’t embarrass yourselves.” The door slammed shut. Aabroo turned back to Mike. Was that an embarrassed smile on her face? “Sorry. Anyway – just up here.” She led them down another corridor and stopped at a door. Mike looked at her. “Should we -”
She shook her head. “No – just a moment.”
From inside the room Mike heard people talking. Out of old habit he paid attention, trying to identify them so that he wasn’t off guard when he entered.
There were … four of them. Two were the slightly rough voices that he now associated with Dog larynxes, and the other two voices were human, although one of the human voices seemed a bit odd – cool and dispassionate.
Mike noticed Aabroo watching him. He didn’t want to be seen as eavesdropping so spoke up “So, Aabroo. It’s nice to meet you – and to see this place.” Aabroo smiled slightly but said nothing. Mike continued “Why haven’t we met sooner? I’ve asked John about you all ever since you arrived here, and -”
Aabroo said “I guess we’re all a bit introverted” and looked away. John caught his eye and silently mouthed “later”. Mike nodded.
A moment later the door was opened by a man on the far side – who immediately turned back and spoke over his shoulder. “Think about what I said – especially about the next generation.” He then turned back towards the corridor. Mike knew he’d recognized the voice. “Father Alex?” Alex looked over, saw Mike, and mimed a hat tip with a wry smile, and proceeded on his way wordlessly.
Aabroo raised one arm, inviting John and Mike to enter the room. Mike entered and John followed. Inside, sitting on bean bag chairs, were two Dogs. That was odd. Mike could have sworn he’d heard another person. Mike smiled. “Blue. Max. I’m Mike, nice to meet you.”
The gray furred dog – Blue? – smiled. “Nice to meet you Mike. Have a seat – can I offer you anything to drink?”
“No, I’m fine, thanks – but can I ask a question? I thought I heard someone else in here -”
Blue looked at Max, then at Mike. “No, it was just us and Father Alex. A fun chat – but you didn’t come here to talk theology. John said you wanted to talk about futures markets. And about collaboration -”
The orange furred Dog with one mangled ear – Max? – interrupted. “We’ve settled that.”
Blue looked at Max coolly. “No, we haven’t settled anything. And I’m talking to our guests now.”
Max gave Blue a look that was inhuman, but none-the-less unmistakable. Mike had seen it back on Earth – and here in Aristillus – when lower-case-d dogs jockeyed for status and position.
Blue stared back. After a moment Max looked away and stared at Mike. The look might not be hostile – but it wasn’t friendly.
Blue turned back to him. “So, Mike – what can we tell you about futures markets?” Blue looked over at Max and gave him a warning look. “And what would you like to say to us about collaboration?”
You’ve got a stray “Dewitt” in there, but if this is representative, draft 3 is looking much more interesting than draft 2!