Shownotes
Having been given his mission, Moshi must now wrestle with this conscience as he prepared to carry it out.
Today’s story is the second and final part of “Dark Garden Lake” by Kayode Lycaon, a gregarious painted wolf from the questionable habitat of southwest Ohio. This story “Dark Garden Lake” appears in The Reclamation Project - Year One by FurPlanet, and you can find more of Kayodé’s stories on his website kayode.co.
Last time, Moshi was given a mission to neutralize the so-called terrorist Landolf. We now join Moshi in the armory before he heads down to Ambara.
Read by Ardy Hart, a wolf of all trades.
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https://thevoice.dog/episode/dark-garden-lake-by-kayode-lycaon-part-2-of-2
Transcripts
You’re listening to The Voice of Dog.
Speaker:This is Rob MacWolf, your fellow traveler,
Speaker:and Today’s story is the second and final part
Speaker:of “Dark Garden Lake”
Speaker:by Kayode Lycaon,
Speaker:a gregarious painted wolf from
Speaker:the questionable habitat
Speaker:of southwest Ohio.
Speaker:This story “Dark Garden Lake”
Speaker:appears in The Reclamation Project -
Speaker:Year One by FurPlanet,
Speaker:and you can find more of Kayodé’s stories on his website kayode.co. Last time, Moshi was given a mission to neutralize the so-called terrorist Landolf. We now join Moshi in the armory before he heads down to Ambara.
Speaker:Read by Ardy Hart,
Speaker:a wolf of all trades.
Speaker:Please enjoy “Dark Garden Lake”
Speaker:by Kayodé Lycaon, Part 2 of 2 In the morning, Moshi went to meet Richard at the Department of Greenfield Project's armory.
Speaker:Inside, racks of stun pistols,
Speaker:dart rifles, and slug throwers took up almost all of the wall space.
Speaker:And in the middle of it all was a dark-skinned man wearing a purple turban.
Speaker:"Moshi," the man said tenderly and shook the painted dog's paw with both hands.
Speaker:"We missed you at services last week.
Speaker:How are you doing?"
Speaker:"I've been well, but this mission is going to be a difficult one.
Speaker:one." Moshi's ears splayed to the side and he rested his muzzle against Richard's cheek.
Speaker:He closed his eyes and wished the warmth in his heart could last forever.
Speaker:"But I have to do it."
Speaker:"One always has choice.
Speaker:Even if we don't like the options.
Speaker:options." Richard clasped his hand around the back of the painted dog's head for a moment before stepping back.
Speaker:"Well. Let's be about it.
Speaker:What do you think you'll need?"
Speaker:"It's an assassination mission and I don't know what range I'll be at.
Speaker:Can you give me a GR-6?"
Speaker:"A regrettable task,"
Speaker:Richard said and pulled a rifle off the shelf of greenfield prototypes.
Speaker:Moshi accepted the weapon and inspected it.
Speaker:In a lot of ways, a GR-6 was an ideal weapon for this mission.
Speaker:It was more reliable than the railgun it was based on,
Speaker:and the custom-built scope integrated with his augmentation,
Speaker:allowing him to make full use of the weapon's ten-kilometer range.
Speaker:For close range work,
Speaker:he could remove the barrel extension to use it as a carbine.
Speaker:It wasn't a perfect weapon.
Speaker:The rifle was heavy,
Speaker:and the full barrel was over a meter and a half long.
Speaker:Also, the rate of fire in
Speaker:was painfully low-
Speaker:-three rounds per second.
Speaker:As a carbine, it was more manageable,
Speaker:but at the expense of range and stopping power.
Speaker:Still, even basic darts would penetrate light armor.
Speaker:"Anything else?" Richard asked. "Long range AP ammo; the GNDN stuff doesn't work very well at anything beyond than close-range anti-personnel work.
Speaker:work." Richard pursed his lips.
Speaker:"How much?" "At least 200 AP,
Speaker:and a few thousand of GNDN,"
Speaker:Moshi replied as he checked the condition of the rails.
Speaker:"I can get you 5 AP rounds, and you're going to fill out a form for each one you use.
Speaker:And no more than 200 rounds of GNDN,"
Speaker:Richard said firmly.
Speaker:"You're like a son to me, Moshi, but I'm not going to do something stupid like equipping you for a frontal assault on an air tank unit.
Speaker:The Director would cut both our throats when he found out.
Speaker:out." The painted dog sighed mentally because Richard had a point.
Speaker:Arming a furred assassin with some of the best weapons the Project had to offer
Speaker:and giving him enough ammunition to make an attempt at assassinating the Project's leadership
Speaker:wasn't going to happen,
Speaker:no matter how they tried to spin it.
Speaker:"I'll make that work,"
Speaker:Moshi said. "And thank you.
Speaker:you." Richard put his hand on the painted dog's shoulder and said solemnly,
Speaker:"Be safe. I want to see you come back.
Speaker:back." Moshi rested his paw on the hand.
Speaker:"I will. Never doubt that." # # #
Speaker:After the transport settled onto the ground, Moshi stepped out into a hot summer breeze that washed ocean salt and sweet clover over him like a cleansing rain.
Speaker:The summer sun was high overhead and oppressively bright.
Speaker:His ears burned and sweat hot as boiling tea oozed out of his fur as his
Speaker:cybernetic skin rapidly chilled his blood to
Speaker:compensate for the sudden heat.
Speaker:Ambara Down took his breath away every time.
Speaker:Green was everywhere.
Speaker:Crawling vines hung from twisted and broken towers,
Speaker:trees spouted in imperfect lines down the main avenue in the outer district.
Speaker:It was as wild here as Vakalena was manicured and soulless,
Speaker:and Moshi felt his heart singing along with the birds that lived down here.
Speaker:He walked down the main avenue,
Speaker:past a sprawling market full of stalls with just about everything available on the ground.
Speaker:It wasn't his first time here,
Speaker:but there was always something new when he came through.
Speaker:While he probably couldn't find a centuries old bottle of French wine—
Speaker:whatever a “French” was—
Speaker:he could probably find someone who could get one.
Speaker:He could wander around after he finished his meeting with Percy,
Speaker:his primary connection to the furred folk underground.
Speaker:When he saw the fence separating Old Ambara from the Reclamation district,
Speaker:he knew he was in the right place.
Speaker:Humans and furred folk mingled under a hanging sign with a blue damselfly perched above it.
Speaker:The constant crowd at the Damselfly made it an ideal place for a meeting between two friends to go unnoticed.
Speaker:The private meeting room he had reserved was up the stairs and to the left.
Speaker:Inside, there was a wood table with six mismatched chairs and a steaming iron teapot with two clay cups.
Speaker:In one of the chairs was a rust-colored maned wolf.
Speaker:Moshi's eyes lingered on the paw that had a truncated stub where it's smallest finger should have been.
Speaker:"I haven't seen you in months,"
Speaker:Percy said with a wide smile.
Speaker:He shook the painted dog's paw from across the table without getting up.
Speaker:"You look well." "I am,
Speaker:how is your family?"
Speaker:Moshi asked, taking a seat.
Speaker:"My daughter is doing well, thanks to the medicine you got her.
Speaker:My wife, well, she's a bitch.
Speaker:bitch." The painted dog laughed and poured himself a cup of tea.
Speaker:"I've missed you." The laughter slowly faded as they looked across the table at each other.
Speaker:It was as if a cold breeze had ruffled their fur.
Speaker:Their ears drooped and the steaming teacups suddenly became the most interesting feature in the room.
Speaker:"What brings you here this time?"
Speaker:Percy asked quietly.
Speaker:Moshi lapped his tea before answering.
Speaker:It was an excellent green tea.
Speaker:"Business. Unfortunate business."
Speaker:"Would it hurt to make a social visit once in a while?"
Speaker:"It's difficult for me to get away."
Speaker:"Surely you're not so busy you can't make time once in a while."
Speaker:"It's not a matter of making time.
Speaker:time." Moshi rubbed an ear.
Speaker:"Right," the maned wolf said, remembering a conversation they had years ago.
Speaker:"I'm sorry." "Not your fault but I'll try.
Speaker:I'd like to meet your wife and daughter sometime.
Speaker:Pictures and letters don't carry their scent or their laughter.
Speaker:laughter." Percy nodded and went immediately to the purpose of their meeting.
Speaker:"So, this business?"
Speaker:"The ‘Claimers want Landolf dead.
Speaker:I talked with the Secretary of Agriculture myself and she's quite piqued about the last raid.
Speaker:raid." Moshi hated lying,
Speaker:but a lie conveyed the importance of his mission much better than trying to explain the political maneuvering involved.
Speaker:"I don't suppose you can talk them out of it,"
Speaker:the maned wolf said,
Speaker:rubbing the stub of his missing finger.
Speaker:"If I could, I wouldn't be here."
Speaker:"So, what do you want from me?
Speaker:I owe you a lot, but I won't have blood on my paws. "
Speaker:"No blood. If you could set up a meeting between me and Landolf, I'd be grateful.
Speaker:Somewhere in the Warrens. Just to talk.
Speaker:I promise." "I doubt she'd want to talk with you.
Speaker:If it wasn't you, I wouldn't do this,"
Speaker:Percy said with a frown and Moshi filed away Landolf's gender for future reference.
Speaker:"I hate asking you this but it's the only way I can see to avoid bloodshed."
Speaker:"This Secretary isn't going to settle for just a finger, is she?"
Speaker:The painted dog squeaked bitterly.
Speaker:"I promise to do nothing to harm Landolf at the meeting."
Speaker:"And afterward?" Moshi stared at his tea and didn't reply.
Speaker:Even if he didn't get permission to capture Landolf, he still needed to know what she looked like.
Speaker:He hoped Percy wouldn't realize how he was being used.
Speaker:"I see." Percy tapped his muzzle.
Speaker:“One question.” Moshi looked up.
Speaker:“Does Helpmann know?”
Speaker:Moshi sighed and looked his friend in the eye.
Speaker:“If he needed to know,
Speaker:I wouldn’t be here.
Speaker:And before you say anything to him,
Speaker:why don’t you ask Prefect Durgavati what she thinks about terrorists.”
Speaker:he said. “This could get messy really fast if other people get involved.”
Speaker:“I see your point.”
Speaker:Percy rubbed his paw.
Speaker:They drank in silence, only broken by their tongues lapping tea.
Speaker:The maned wolf refilled both of their cups and set the empty pot down.
Speaker:When the tea was gone, Percy looked up with sad eyes.
Speaker:Nothing was said between them, but Moshi knew his answer,
Speaker:not that there ever had been a question.
Speaker:They both stood up together and embraced in quiet sorrow.
Speaker:Then the maned wolf headed home,
Speaker:and the painted dog left for his hotel on the other side of the Fence. # # #
Speaker:Two days later, Moshi looked out over the water in the fading light from his hotel room.
Speaker:He had met Percy in the market that morning.
Speaker:The maned wolf had led the way to a noodle cart with an aroma of broth and peppers that was strong enough to mask the scent of the red fox behind it.
Speaker:Moshi paid and they had sat at a table under the shade of a maple tree.
Speaker:He vividly remembered the taste of thick flavorful wheat noodles and a spicy chicken broth that overpowered the mix of celery,
Speaker:carrot, and egg that tried to mellow it.
Speaker:He also remembered his friend's reluctant report.
Speaker:Landolf had agreed to meet.
Speaker:It was a shame, the painted dog thought.
Speaker:He and Percy should have been bitter enemies given their past,
Speaker:but the maned wolf was a simple and honest person.
Speaker:He had seen past all of Moshi's carefully built walls and found a way to reach the soul underneath.
Speaker:The painted dog promised himself that he would find a way to return and visit the maned wolf's family.
Speaker:The last ray of light was disappearing when a message from Joyce blinked in the corner of his eye.
Speaker:He pulled it up and felt his heart sink.
Speaker:It was short, "Termination approved.
Speaker:approved." Two words, that was all that was needed to end one person's life.
Speaker:All to get better positioning on the political chessboard.
Speaker:And despite what Richard had said,
Speaker:he had no other choice.
Speaker:The painted dog picked up his backpack and set it on the bed next to him.
Speaker:No point in waiting any longer.
Speaker:Like jumping off a cliff, he steeled himself and pulled on the zipper,
Speaker:listening to the with slight rasp of metal on metal.
Speaker:Inside was his rifle,
Speaker:ammunition, and a few other useful things,
Speaker:like scent masking powder and "cherry" flavored cyborg rations.
Speaker:The rifle snapped together easily, just as it was designed.
Speaker:He left the extended barrel and short magazine of
Speaker:AP rounds in the bag
Speaker:and loaded all of his GNDN darts into two full-size magazines.
Speaker:He picked up his rifle and,
Speaker:with a mental command,
Speaker:activated his camouflage.
Speaker:The combat HUD appeared,
Speaker:with his rifle stats selected, and a set of short, floating green bars showed an estimate of how detectable he was.
Speaker:Looking at the mirror on the door,
Speaker:he only saw the shadow of his outline in the reflection of the window
Speaker:and the moonlit ocean sea beyond.
Speaker:He was almost perfectly invisible,
Speaker:as long as he didn't move too quickly.
Speaker:Then he turned everything back off and closed all of the programs that hid in the edge of his vision.
Speaker:Everything went on the floor and he lay down on the bed.
Speaker:He hugged a pillow.
Speaker:The sheets were cold without someone else beside him
Speaker:and loneliness clawed at his heart as the waves rolled in.
Speaker:The tears he cried weren't enough to bring him closer to sleep,
Speaker:so he pulled up his internal medpack instead. # # #
Speaker:Early, before the sun came up,
Speaker:Moshi woke from his sleep.
Speaker:A mild stimulant took away the fog of sedation and brought him much needed focus.
Speaker:If the market had been open,
Speaker:he would have much preferred heavily spiced coffee or tea rich with cream and sugar,
Speaker:but he didn't have time to wait.
Speaker:He loaded his GR-6 and pulled on a shirt and pants appropriate for crawling around the ruins of the city.
Speaker:Then the painted dog slipped out of his hotel and snuck into a nearby ruined tower.
Speaker:The crushed stairway was just wide enough for him to squeeze through to a four-meter drop onto the first set of intact steps.
Speaker:His reinforced body easily handled a fall would have shattered even the stoutest furred folk's legs.
Speaker:A feline skeleton not far from where he landed testified to that.
Speaker:Five flights down,
Speaker:a bent door opened into the Warrens.
Speaker:Down here, the few paths that existed were cut through the twisted wreckage of what had been the lower levels of the floating city of Ambara.
Speaker:There was no light visible this far down.
Speaker:He switched his vision to infrared and the illuminators built into his jaw turned on to provide better light than the pale reflections
Speaker:of his own body heat.
Speaker:While he could see now,
Speaker:it came at the painful cost of freezing eyes and a burning muzzle.
Speaker:There was very little sound other than the ever-present water
Speaker:dripping against metal and the occasional groans of the city settling.
Speaker:In some places moss made the already slick footing treacherous.
Speaker:This deep, there was always the risk of running into unstable Machina drones that were just as likely to help you
Speaker:as hurt you, sometimes switching mid-sentence.
Speaker:Then a rasp of metal against metal made him halt.
Speaker:Going around wasn't an option.
Speaker:Most of the drone types he knew of could move faster than him.
Speaker:His camouflage might work if he was willing to risk losing his infrared vision,
Speaker:but the prospect of being blind in the darkness was not appealing.
Speaker:He did have an echolocation program,
Speaker:except it was experimental and probably wouldn't work if he didn't make the ultrasonic chirps it relied on for accurate mapping.
Speaker:In the end, he decided to ready his carbine and follow what Richard had taught him:
Speaker:the best defense was excessive violence.
Speaker:The combat HUD popped into view when his paw curled around the grip.
Speaker:The GR-6's weight was comforting as he pulled it against his shoulder
Speaker:and clicked it over to automatic fire.
Speaker:He should have asked Richard for grenades.
Speaker:The scraping sounds got closer and it was too late to use his camouflage.
Speaker:The drone would have seen the infrared light from his jaw-mounted illuminators by now.
Speaker:A pair of shiny black legs and red eye stalk appeared from around a torn metal panel.
Speaker:Moshi held his breath and settled the red crosshairs on where the bulk of its body would be.
Speaker:Slow, punctuated cracks sounded through the tiny space as he held down the trigger.
Speaker:In four seconds, a dozen darts flew down the corridor to explode in useless showers of sparks as they pinged off the spider drone's black carapace.
Speaker:After a long moment,
Speaker:an electronic voice said his name.
Speaker:"Moshi. What are we doing in The Warrens this fine evening?"
Speaker:The painted dog stopped firing but didn't lower his aim.
Speaker:The clock in the corner of his vision read 09:52. "Just passing through, if you don't mind," he replied. The voice chuckled in the most uncomfortable manner.
Speaker:"Just passing through. Perhaps.
Speaker:If you're looking for Dark Garden Lake, you're too far west. Take the left here.
Speaker:here." A black leg pointed in a direction that would leave his back to the composite-armored spider.
Speaker:Moshi stepped in that direction and kept one eye on the drone.
Speaker:"Good luck with your meeting but the lynx won't go with you.
Speaker:If it helps, her daughter goes to school in West Park.
Speaker:Classes start tomorrow.
Speaker:tomorrow." With those uncomfortable parting words, it disappeared,
Speaker:and the painted dog shuddered.
Speaker:They always knew more than they should have.
Speaker:It was creepy. He safed his carbine and decided he was going to take a different route home;
Speaker:one that wasn't so deep.
Speaker:And next time, he wasn't coming down here without a full magazine of proper armor-piercing darts
Speaker:and a bandolier of heavy grenades.
Speaker:Fortunately, that was the last sign of life—
Speaker:mechanical or otherwise—
Speaker:he saw that morning.
Speaker:On the eastern side of Dark Garden Lake, he stopped on the remains of an observation deck balcony.
Speaker:The observation deck on Vakelena was the lowest point any human could access without an antigravity harness.
Speaker:He wasn't sure if Ambara had been the same when it was flying,
Speaker:but this was as deep as one could go in The Warrens before they hit bedrock.
Speaker:Moshi sat down on the edge,
Speaker:gritted his teeth, and switched his aching eyes back over to normal vision.
Speaker:As they had every time before, pins and needles stabbed into them as they warmed back up.
Speaker:Without a doubt, this was the worst part of the operation he thought
Speaker:as he rubbed his eyelids to remove the cold gummed up tears from behind them.
Speaker:Once his eyes had returned to normal,
Speaker:he inhaled deeply to take in the scents of earthy moss,
Speaker:salty sea water, and rusting metal while the water below crashed into fallen bits of city and rocky cliff.
Speaker:Looking out over Dark Garden Lake,
Speaker:the dim blue glow of the moss shed just enough light to highlight the white crests of the waves.
Speaker:Even here, in the deepest, darkest part of the Warrens,
Speaker:one could find a simple,
Speaker:haunting beauty. He spent an entire hour recording every scent he could smell,
Speaker:every sound he could hear,
Speaker:every breeze against his fur, and every sight he could see while his legs dangled over the water.
Speaker:No matter the outcome of his mission,
Speaker:he would have memories he would forever treasure.
Speaker:Then it was time to return to his mission.
Speaker:Landolf was just half an hour's walk away. # # #
Speaker:As he got close to the meeting area, he saw bright lights shining on a wall in the distance.
Speaker:He left his carbine hidden under a floor plate
Speaker:and walked forward,
Speaker:making no attempt to hide his approach.
Speaker:When he got closer,
Speaker:his implants highlighted cameras and several unobtrusive gun ports around a heavy metal door.
Speaker:After a few more steps,
Speaker:the speaker beside the door crackled.
Speaker:"Stay right there."
Speaker:Moshi froze and lifted his paws to show he wasn't holding anything.
Speaker:"What do you want?"
Speaker:the voice said. "I'm here to meet with Landolf,"
Speaker:he replied. The door opened and a burly rabbit in heavy armor came out.
Speaker:Her nose twitched as she caught his scent and she motioned him forward.
Speaker:Contrary to his expectations,
Speaker:she was exceedingly polite.
Speaker:"I apologize, I need to check you for weapons.
Speaker:weapons." Moshi nodded and the rabbit patted him down thoroughly,
Speaker:including using the back of her paw
Speaker:to check his groin.
Speaker:When she finished without finding anything,
Speaker:she said, "Wipe your feet before you come inside." The interior was much nicer than he had expected.
Speaker:Sturdy carpet covered the floor
Speaker:and paint in several shades of pale blue covered the walls and ceiling.
Speaker:It felt much more like a home than a hideout.
Speaker:The rabbit led him to a small parlor with a bookshelf and end table between a pair of stuffed chairs.
Speaker:One of the chairs was already occupied by a female lynx with a torn ear.
Speaker:She invited him to sit across from her.
Speaker:Uneasily, he recalled the Machina drone's prediction.
Speaker:"Would you like a cup of tea?"
Speaker:the lynx asked, lifting her own cup.
Speaker:Moshi accepted the offer and sat in the comfortable chair.
Speaker:A teenage lynx, with similar markings, brought him a steaming cup.
Speaker:This whole meeting felt staged,
Speaker:like his conversations with Joyce.
Speaker:He settled back into the chair and pulled out his mental saber.
Speaker:This was his battlefield.
Speaker:Maybe if he fought well enough,
Speaker:he could take Landolf in alive and negotiate a non-lethal option from better positioning.
Speaker:"Your daughter?" he asked.
Speaker:"Yes," the older lynx replied, setting her own cup down.
Speaker:"How was your walk?"
Speaker:"Refreshing. The lake here is a favorite of mine."
Speaker:"Mine as well," she said with a smile.
Speaker:Moshi took a moment to enjoy the tea's flavor—
Speaker:strong and bitter with a delightful hint of citrus.
Speaker:He almost sighed but stopped himself.
Speaker:Body language would be everything.
Speaker:If he was too refined or too sloppy,
Speaker:this entire conversation could backfire on him.
Speaker:"This is good tea,"
Speaker:he said and then continued to his point.
Speaker:"But that's not why I'm here.
Speaker:here." The lynx said nothing as she smiled.
Speaker:There was a predatory feel to the silence beyond what one would normally feel from a feline.
Speaker:It was almost like he was her prey.
Speaker:Flinching a bit was probably the best option.
Speaker:"Well, um, I came to meet with Landolf.
Speaker:I don't suppose he will be along anytime soon?"
Speaker:Moshi asked with a hint of discomfort in his voice.
Speaker:"He's not but I can pass along a message,"
Speaker:the lynx said. There was no reaction to his incorrect assumption that Landolf was male.
Speaker:That told him something.
Speaker:She was used to playing games.
Speaker:Rather than rely on skill alone, he pulled up his lie detector program and had it start analyzing her.
Speaker:With enough data,
Speaker:it would be able to give him a reasonable read on how her body was reacting as she spoke.
Speaker:"I would really like to speak to him directly,"
Speaker:he pressed. A small shake of the lynx's head made it clear she wasn't going to be so easily persuaded.
Speaker:"Very well," Moshi continued,
Speaker:"I heard some rumors during my last stay on Vakalena.
Speaker:The ‘Claimers are quite upset about the food convoys that keep getting raided.
Speaker:They consider Landolf responsible."
Speaker:"Oh yes, the ‘Claimers.
Speaker:They can be a sensitive bunch.
Speaker:bunch." Moshi swallowed deliberately to show nervousness he didn't feel.
Speaker:"I was talking with a few of the other mercenaries,
Speaker:and someone is paying a lot of money to have one of the furred folk stick a knife in his chest."
Speaker:"Not surprising," she said with a smile full of teeth.
Speaker:"I don't suppose you brought your knife?"
Speaker:"Well, no." "Then you're a smart little ‘Claimer puppy.
Speaker:Why don't you tell me why you're here before you leave here with your tail between your legs.
Speaker:legs." Point to the puppy, Moshi thought.
Speaker:His act had gotten her to drop her mask.
Speaker:All that was left was to exit gracefully.
Speaker:He continued to play the part she had laid out for him.
Speaker:"I have a few connections with the ‘Claimers.
Speaker:After asking around, I found that there's a few of them willing to pay for taking Landolf alive.
Speaker:alive." The lynx surprised him with a yowl of laughter.
Speaker:"And you think you can get Landolf to just give himself up without a fight!
Speaker:Stuff that idea somewhere dark and unpleasant.
Speaker:unpleasant." Moshi pinned his ears back to look appropriately chastised.
Speaker:The analysis program flashed in the corner of his eye.
Speaker:"Sorry," he said, looking down at his half-finished tea,
Speaker:"I'll do that." She got up and grinned at him,
Speaker:eyes bright. "You managed to amuse me puppy.
Speaker:Finish your tea and Clara will show you out.
Speaker:out." The same rabbit that had met him at the door followed him back to it.
Speaker:After he stepped out, the heavy door clanged shut behind him.
Speaker:There was a finality to that sound,
Speaker:as if the door was commenting on his failure.
Speaker:The painted dog flipped his ears in regret and slipped off into the darkness. # # #
Speaker:Back at his hotel,
Speaker:it was a sunny afternoon,
Speaker:but dark clouds loomed on the horizon as if they too had something to say.
Speaker:The recording and analysis from his lie detector program left little doubt that the lynx was Landolf—
Speaker:not that he needed Pax Machina or a computer program to tell him that.
Speaker:For a moment he wondered what Pax Machina would gain from Landolf’s death,
Speaker:then he decided he was better off not knowing.
Speaker:If its drone’s unsettling behavior was any clue,
Speaker:the answer would raise many more questions,
Speaker:all of them disturbing.
Speaker:The painted dog shook himself;
Speaker:he had more immediate things to worry about.
Speaker:His message to Joyce was brief.
Speaker:"Landolf identified.
Speaker:Will neutralize by next report.
Speaker:report." Moshi stared out the window at the rising water of a storm surge and the waves breaking against the seawall protecting the city.
Speaker:One question gnawed at him.
Speaker:Why did he have to be the one to pull the trigger?
Speaker:But he knew the answer before it was even asked.
Speaker:If he didn't pull the trigger,
Speaker:a lot of other people could die if someone else got the mission.
Speaker:If he didn't pull the trigger,
Speaker:his future with the Department of Greenfield Projects was questionable at best.
Speaker:There was nothing he could do,
Speaker:so he lay down alone on the cold bed and sedated himself into another deep,
Speaker:dreamless sleep. The next morning was blustery,
Speaker:with a dark sky overhead and the smell of rain in the air.
Speaker:Using his camouflage,
Speaker:Moshi climbed unseen to the top of a ruined tower.
Speaker:It was easy to locate a half-collapsed apartment to hide in.
Speaker:No one would be able to see him sitting in the shadows near the back wall.
Speaker:His ears hung loosely off his head while he kept his eyes
Speaker:telescopically zoomed in on the courtyard in front of West Park School.
Speaker:The rifle, with its full-length barrel,
Speaker:was heavy in his paws and the five AP darts in its magazine felt like a huge lead weight on his shoulders.
Speaker:A gray crosshair hovered over the wind-swept floor,
Speaker:waiting. Hours later,
Speaker:a young lynx, and her mother with a torn ear, entered the courtyard.
Speaker:His ears perked up;
Speaker:the Machina drone had been correct again.
Speaker:He flicked the rifle's selector lever from safe to single fire
Speaker:and the crosshair turned red.
Speaker:But, for a moment,
Speaker:he hesitated. Landolf's daughter was skipping,
Speaker:carefree, oblivious to what was about to happen.
Speaker:He felt a kinship with her;
Speaker:he had always loved school.
Speaker:Was it her classmates?
Speaker:The teachers? Or did she just love learning, like him?
Speaker:He shook himself and his ears flopped.
Speaker:This was not the time to be getting sentimental.
Speaker:He watched the teenaged lynx trot up the stairs into the school.
Speaker:At the top of the stairs, she waved goodbye to her mother,
Speaker:not knowing this would be the last time she would see her alive.
Speaker:Several heartbeats went past before the daughter went inside and her mother turned to walk away.
Speaker:It was time. He pulled the rifle up to his shoulder and settled the red lines on Landolf's chest,
Speaker:but his finger hesitated on the trigger.
Speaker:The decision was already made;
Speaker:he had to take the shot,
Speaker:but he couldn't. The cost was just too high.
Speaker:He took his finger off and pulled up his assassination program.
Speaker:If he couldn't pull the trigger,
Speaker:software could still make his body do it.
Speaker:The program locked on Landolf's head
Speaker:and his arms began to move the rifle into position.
Speaker:Then Moshi hit the execute button and gave up control.
Speaker:His heart stopped and the painted dog felt his body fall away.
Speaker:He was only a distant observer as the crosshairs settled on the lynx's head.
Speaker:For an eternity, the program waited for the wind to stop swirling.
Speaker:A distant, singular heartbeat pushed blood through his body.
Speaker:And then another.
Speaker:A soft pop reached his ears as he fell back into his body.
Speaker:The AP dart left a white streak in the air.
Speaker:At the other end of its path,
Speaker:Landolf dropped to the ground.
Speaker:Then, slowly, blood began to pool.
Speaker:He could see furred folk screaming but he couldn't hear them.
Speaker:The assassination program exited automatically,
Speaker:and the painted dog took a ragged breath before clicking the rifle's selector back to safe.
Speaker:The lynx with a torn ear was dead.
Speaker:And because he had been the one to take her life,
Speaker:there had been no unnecessary suffering
Speaker:and a minimum of collateral damage.
Speaker:The dart had torn through the vital structures in her brain and her soul was gone—
Speaker:to wherever souls went—
Speaker:before she had hit the ground.
Speaker:It was that small comfort that Moshi clung to
Speaker:as he packed up his rifle and turned on his camouflage.
Speaker:His message to Joyce was cold
Speaker:and precise. "Mission complete at 07:52." # # #
Speaker:The painted dog returned to Valakena before the storm rolled over Ambara Down.
Speaker:He stepped out of the transport terminal and stopped.
Speaker:There was a striped hyena waiting for him,
Speaker:clothed in only the barest amount of fringed purple fabric. Bajit gave him a sad smile.
Speaker:"I wasn't expecting to see you again.
Speaker:But Joyce said you asked for me."
Speaker:"I did," Moshi said uncomfortably.
Speaker:He hadn't expected anyone to be waiting for him.
Speaker:"If you don't want me to stay,"
Speaker:the hyena started,
Speaker:touching a paw to his arm.
Speaker:The painted dog's voice squeaked.
Speaker:"Please stay." "Okay then.
Speaker:Dinner should be waiting for us in your new apartment."
Speaker:"New apartment?" Moshi blinked in surprise and then followed Bajit through unfamiliar hallways to the edge of the city.
Speaker:Several levels down, they stopped at a wooden door.
Speaker:To the painted dog's nose, it smelled real,
Speaker:and he brushed the leathery pads of his paws against its luxurious grain.
Speaker:With a touch of the button on the frame,
Speaker:it slid open. New apartment had been an understatement.
Speaker:Inside was a small luxury suite,
Speaker:with two bedrooms and a parlor.
Speaker:Rather than the lavish decoration he had seen in similar suites,
Speaker:this one was dressed simply with earth tones and green plants.
Speaker:And on the carved wooden table in the common room were two place settings with crystal wine glasses
Speaker:and silver covers on gold rimmed plates.
Speaker:He stared at the decanter of red wine and thought of the blood pooled on the ground that was now being washed away by the rain.
Speaker:Then a gentle paw on his shoulder reminded him that he didn't have to be alone with his thoughts.
Speaker:The painted dog mentally shook himself and took a seat at the table.
Speaker:Bajit removed the plate covers and took the other seat.
Speaker:The sharp scent of peppercorn filled their noses as the aroma rose from the now uncovered plates.
Speaker:It was a simple dinner for Vakalena—
Speaker:hot rare steak with a peppercorn crust,
Speaker:smashed potatoes with butter and rosemary,
Speaker:and steamed green beans.
Speaker:The wine turned out to be his favorite Pinot Noir.
Speaker:Someone had put a lot of preparation into this, Moshi thought,
Speaker:and the price had been cheap at one mother's death and one more stain on an already stained soul.
Speaker:They ate slowly— in silence.
Speaker:It was as excellent as any meal from the dining halls but this time there was no politics,
Speaker:no need to do anything or be anything.
Speaker:And to Moshi's infinite relief,
Speaker:Bajit made no attempt at conversation,
Speaker:no noise beyond quiet chewing,
Speaker:even though this had to be the best meal the hyena had ever had.
Speaker:After the plates were clear, they retired to the bedroom.
Speaker:Moshi left his clothes in a pile next to a bed easily three times larger than his previous one
Speaker:and eased himself down onto a real leather couch that faced floor-to-ceiling windows.
Speaker:There was no glow
Speaker:and no vibration from Vakalena's engines.
Speaker:If it hadn't been for the towering storm front,
Speaker:he would have been able to see Ambara Down and the stars beyond.
Speaker:Brilliant lightning flashed in the distance
Speaker:and he could almost smell the ozone.
Speaker:The couch shifted as Bajit sat down unclothed next to him
Speaker:and handed him a glass of wine.
Speaker:For a long time, neither of them spoke as they stared out the window together.
Speaker:"You've been quiet,"
Speaker:the hyena said, breaking the silence.
Speaker:Moshi turned an ear and replied in equally soft tones.
Speaker:"I've had a lot on my mind."
Speaker:"Must have done something big down there to get a crib like this.
Speaker:this." The painted dog flicked an ear but said nothing.
Speaker:Bajit had an amazing talent for saying exactly the wrong thing,
Speaker:but that was a small price to pay for the hyena's company.
Speaker:"Sorry, I shouldn't have said that.
Speaker:that." Moshi took a sip of his wine and then asked a shaky question.
Speaker:"Can I show you something?"
Speaker:"What is it?" Bajit asked with a raised eyebrow.
Speaker:"The most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
Speaker:seen." Bajit looked skeptical.
Speaker:"Am I going to regret saying yes?"
Speaker:The painted dog didn't reply.
Speaker:Instead he closed his eyes and pulled up a memory from his recorder.
Speaker:A single command sent it to the computer controlling the room and in response,
Speaker:the ceiling lights dimmed to a deep midnight blue.
Speaker:Slowly, the scent of salt and moss and the sound of waves filled the air.
Speaker:Then the windows darkened until they showed barely visible water
Speaker:and rocks far below.
Speaker:"This is beautiful,"
Speaker:the hyena whispered.
Speaker:For a moment, there was only the sound of their breathing and then a choking sound,
Speaker:as Moshi held back tears.
Speaker:Bajit's arm wrapped around his shoulders.
Speaker:The painted dog sniffed and leaned against the warm, furred body next to him.
Speaker:His words threatened to strangle him as he forced them out.
Speaker:"I've," he stammered.
Speaker:"I've never shown this to anyone else.
Speaker:else." Then he stopped holding back
Speaker:and, as waves crashed over rocks,
Speaker:a painted dog wept bitterly
Speaker:into a striped hyena's chest.
Speaker:This was the second and final part
Speaker:of “Dark Garden Lake”
Speaker:by Kayodé Lycaon,
Speaker:read for you by Ardy Hart, a wolf of all trades.
Speaker:As always, you can find more stories on the web
Speaker:at thevoice.dog,
Speaker:or find the show wherever you get your podcasts.
Speaker:Thank you for listening to The Voice of Dog.