Wolverine fought in the great war among the stars for the human Alliance, but now the war is over and he misses seeing his own kind.

You’re listening to The Voice of Dog.  I’m Khaki, your faithful fireside companion, and Today’s story is the first of two parts of “Speak to Me of Summer” by Harry, who writes and publishes under a few different names, but you can find most of his stories on SoFurry.

Read for you by Khaki, your faithful fireside companion.

You’re listening to The Voice of Dog. I’m Khaki, your faithful fireside companion,

and Today’s story is the first of two parts of

“Speak to Me of Summer”

by Harry, who writes and publishes under a few different names, but you can find most of his stories

on SoFurry. Please enjoy

“Speak to Me of Summer”

by Harry, Part 1

of 2 "Where you heading?"

asked HotSauce while stirring his drink around.

"Don't know," I lied. I covered it by taking a long draw from mine through a straw.

HotSauce drank from his, straight from the tall glass as only a human could

without spilling half of it all over their uniform.

He didn't seem satisfied with my non

-answer. "C'mon Wolverine, you gotta have some idea."

"Why you want to know?

You want to come with me?"

I asked, in a tone that probably sounded more hostile than I meant it to.

I'd learned pretty quick that my normal voice sounded threatening to most humans.

But HotSauce should have been used to it.

He looked away. I snorted.

He did want to come with me.

And he didn't even know where I planned to go.

I guess I couldn't blame him.

The squadron was breaking up now that the war and the parades were over.

As war heroes we'd been given

indefinite leave and even custody of our Starwing fighters.

We could go anywhere we wanted in Alliance space.

Or even out of it.

Who would stop us?

Most were already gone like leaves in the wind.

A few stayed and took the easy high-status jobs with Alliance command that were offered.

I was still trying to talk myself out of what I wanted to do.

And here was HotSauce,

trying to keep some small part of our pilot clan together.

The silence between us was getting awkward.

For HotSauce, anyway.

I'd been living among humans for long enough to know that they didn't much like social silence.

I offered, "You just want to ride my tail fur, and catch all the females that slide off me."

He chuckled, "I still don't get how you do it.

Fuckin' aliens man."

It was my turn to laugh,

a low throaty noise that turned a few heads in the dockside bar.

"You got that right.

Fuckin' aliens," I repeated,

taking his words literally.

In reality not many human females found me attractive enough to want to find out

what I was like out of uniform.

And maybe they didn't really find me attractive.

Just different and interesting.

Unlike HotSauce,

who despite his spicy-sounding callsign

was thin and wiry and almost furless.

My complete opposite.

"So where you heading?"

he asked again. I rubbed the bridge of my muzzle.

"If I said Argentum, would you leave it be?"

He shook his head.

"You're not going there.

I can't imagine you lying on a beach, even a nude one.

And unless you sell your Starwing you don't have the money to stay there more than a couple months."

I took another long drink from my straw,

swallowed. He was still staring at me, waiting for me to answer.

I huffed and finally said,

"I think I'm going to go home."

He raised his eyebrows and sat up straighter.

"Really? Back to Lerk?

I thought you--" "Lrrkh,"

I corrected him, though he probably couldn't say it right without a lot of practice.

"That's what I said,"

he grinned. "Anyway

I thought you told everyone that you were never going back there."

"Yeah, I did," I said,

then set my drink on the bar and wiped the condensation off my palm onto the leg of my uniform.

"But..." prompted HotSauce.

I growled, "But it's been 12 years since I left with the Alliance recruiters.

Who knows how many years it's been on Lrrkh.

Yours feel longer than ours."

"You miss your family, I guess."

"I miss seeing other Lrrkh'un.

There were about fifteen of us that bought the propaganda and volunteered to help the Alliance.

And they broke us up, sent us all over.

I never saw a single one of them again.

again." I could feel my voice getting louder,

edging into that sound that made humans nervous.

I caught the bartender staring,

probably wondering if he was going to need to call the MPs.

"Sorry, Wolverine. I guess I can't imagine what--" "No, you can't."

HotSauce didn't argue.

I wondered if he'd just up and leave,

tired of my surly mood.

I found I didn't actually want him to.

The clan was scattering,

falling apart. We were left to find a new one.

Or an old one. "You regret leaving everything behind?"

he asked, unable to leave it, or me alone.

"Hell no. I got to help save the galaxy.

You furless idiots never would have managed it without me.

me." Then I gave him one of my big smiles,

all sharp white teeth against my dark-furred muzzle.

The kind that most humans

don't know how to interpret.

He laughed. He knew me,

maybe better than those I left behind.

If my idea didn't pan out,

maybe it would be good to have someone watching my six.

"Still want to come with me?"

I asked, making the offer.

He asked, "Do you think your women will be into this?" while gesturing with both

hands at himself. I rattled the bartender again with a roaring laugh.

"No. And you would need medical treatment after."

"Challenge accepted!"

he said, raising his drink.

I retrieved my glass and clinked it against his

in the human custom.

"Ok, you are a fool,

but it might be, hrrmmh,

easier with you along."

"I'm your wingman 'til the end, Wolverine." *****

We jumped in off the ecliptic like we had

into dozens of other star systems.

It felt like one of our scouting missions, as it was just our two Starwings.

No giant fleet carriers or battlecruisers or picket ships.

Space and stars looked the same no matter where you might be,

and the initial awe I had felt leaving my world for the first time was a distant memory.

Still, the bright orange star that greeted us somehow felt

different, though it was probably all in my mind.

But just maybe there was something in the light signature that registered with my brain.

Home star. Everything I was, I owed to Tarl.

We didn't worship the sun or anything like that. Not anymore anyway.

But we respected it for being the source of life on our world.

We had linked up and synched our mini-jumps towards the inner system,

towards Lrrkh. Tarl blazed bright enough

that I had to avoid looking at it.

HotSauce's voice came in through my cockpit speaker.

"So what's Lrrkh

mean, anyway?" He still couldn't say it right.

Or any of the other phrases I had been trying to teach him during the lulls between jumps.

I explained, "It sort of means like a...

foundation stone.

Something stable you build on top of. But not exactly.

It's an old word.

Now it just means the world."

"Kind of like Earth, I guess."

"I thought earth just meant dirt."

"Yeah it does but like you said,

it's different. Dirt is.

is... well it's dirty. It's something you don't want on your clothes, right?

But earth, that's what you grow food in."

I gruffed my agreement.

"One more jump and we'll be there."

"You ready?" "No," I admitted.

"What are you worried about?

You're a war hero!

I thought you were all brave warriors on your planet.

They'll love you. Maybe we'll get another parade after they hear about out what we did."

I snorted. "They won't give a shit about the war.

They think actual fighting is the result of a 'failure to communicate'.

So we may look all scary and mean to you skinsacks, but mostly

we just look threatening to each other until it's agreed who is right, and no one gets their belly clawed open.

If you end up in an actual brawl

you get cut and you get shunned."

"So why'd you join up?"

"Because of the damned propaganda they came selling.

The Gestalt wasn't something that was going to just agree to be wrong, no matter how much strength the Alliance showed.

It doesn't think like us. Or you. Or whatever.

And if someone didn't do something about it,

when it got to Lrrkh

it would have 'cleansed' the whole place from orbit like it did to all those other planets.

And then there would be no more Lrrkh'un anywhere, ever.

I couldn't stop thinking about that." "So uh, how'd your family take your decision to leave?"

"Oh I think you can guess."

"And that's why you're worried about going back."

"Yeah." "I get it, Wolverine.

I still think this is a good idea, though.

Maybe they'll change their minds about joining the Alliance if they hear about it from you."

"Don't count on it.

This could still all go sideways."

"You worried about a hostile reception before we even make orbit?

I'm not picking up any system patrols, almost no radio transmissions except from the planet itself.

itself." "You won't. And don't bother requesting clearance or insertion vectors.

There's no one to answer you."

"Whoa, just how primitive are you people?"

"Hey! Not every race follows the same path, ok?

We're just as smart as any other species in the Alliance. We just had different...

you know. Priorities."

"Just hard for me to imagine a bunch of wolverines as like...

pacifist warrior philosophers or something." "Tch.

Humans. Just because you had some wild animal that sort of looks like us--"

"Looks exactly like you.

It's spooky." "No, they don't really.

Ok, a little. The dark fur around the muzzle and the shape of...

anyway the point is

you all are so quick to classify everything as soon as you see it.

Put it in a little box with a label

and never ever change that label if you can help it."

"Got us all figured out, then?"

"Wasn't hard, HotSauce."

His turn to snort now.

"Now who's putting who in a box?" "Hmmph.

Point. But when we get down there,

let me do the talking,"

I warned. "You got it, Captain.

It's your party, I'm just the wingman." *****

I wasn't there when the Alliance ship had first landed.

I was working in my father's warehouse, getting a shipment together to trade with one of the neighboring clans.

Word of the arrival of aliens from another world spread fast, though,

and I was mostly relieved to get off work early.

It was summer, and too hot for working that hard.

I hopped on a transport with brothers and sisters and cousins and whoever else would fit and we all rode to the city to see the visitors.

They had picked our city, they said,

because it glowed brightest in the night,

which pleased the clan elders at least.

They could speak our language,

mostly, which made us wonder how long they had been watching us.

So we asked them.

And they told us.

The truth, it seemed.

And we nodded and gruffed and thought they were funny-looking but sensible enough,

as far as it went.

So we asked them what they wanted.

And they told us.

About the thing they called the Gestalt.

The machines that were controlled by no one but acted as one

mindless mind, endlessly harvesting entire worlds to make more of them or itself.

Never talking, never threatening, never stopping.

These humans and their Alliance

were fighting the Gestalt,

and they were losing.

Well of course you are losing, the elders said.

Fighting is a waste of energy.

If you cannot match their strength, and you cannot reach an agreement,

you lose or you get out of the their way.

It made sense to us at the time.

We had never had a reason to look beyond our horizon,

and we lived in a little walled garden,

and had already worked out the best way to deal with the only possible threats

in that garden- each other.

There will be nowhere out of the way,

the humans countered.

And the Lrrkh'un will all be exterminated,

along with the humans and the dozens of other races that formed their Alliance.

So what do you want,

the elders asked again,

disturbed at this prophecy.

And the humans said they wanted our help.

The elders laughed.

Help? What help could we possibly give to clans that can travel to other suns?

And they said because you are different than us.

And that was the one thing that the Gestalt couldn't be.

Different than itself.

It was all the same, everywhere it was.

The elders nodded and gruffed

and allowed that maybe there was wisdom there.

The humans invited all of Lrrkh to join the Alliance. But the elders of Clan Ulka said they couldn't speak for all of Lrrkh,

only Clan Ulka. And even then they couldn't make any one Lrrkh'un join some alien clan.

The humans seemed like they were expecting that answer.

They asked if they could stay until the end of the summer,

and anyone who wished to join them,

to help them fight the Gestalt,

could leave with them then.

At the time, I thought they would go home without a single Lrrkh'un volunteer.

The thought of being one myself was so incredible

that it didn't even rise to the surface waters of my mind.

But it was down there,

lurking like a flatfish.

Now here I was, coming back from places that none of my clan could ever have imagined.

What could I tell them that they would believe or understand?

At least I had HotSauce with me.

They'd seen humans before, and maybe since,

but he was like a real part of that alien craziness out there.

Living proof. Even if all he could say with any confidence was

"Hello", "Thank you" and "Where's the loo".

Well, those and a handful of obscene things that I shouldn't have taught him.

I didn't really want to deal with the clan elders

or make a big impression like the Alliance had on that first contact mission.

So I told HotSauce

we'd be landing in a field near my mother's house.

Word would get around pretty quick,

and I wanted a little time before the crowds closed in to talk with my parents and siblings. We came in slow

and as quiet as a Starwing could be in an atmosphere, which isn't very quiet.

But no supersonics at least.

We set down in the field together

in perfect unison,

like it was a landing drill.

Killed the engines

and climbed down from the bellies of our craft

and onto the crunchy frozen soil of the field.

The wind blew through the remnants of whatever had been growing here during the brief summer.

The sound it made--

and the smell of the winter air--

I shivered, but not from the chill.

The chill felt perfect.

I crouched down and touched my bare fingerpads to the clods of soil.

This is my earth,

I thought. Where I was grown.

I took a little chunk,

rubbed and crushed it between two fingers,

and brought it to my nose.

I could hear footsteps approaching from HotSauce's ship,

as well as the tink-tink sound of metal rapidly cooling.

I looked up, pulled out of my stunned wandering thoughts.

"Hey uh," he said while hugging his arms to himself.

"You could have warned me to bring a jacket."

I grinned. "I didn't know what season it would be when we got here.

But our winters are long.

long." I shook my head and fluffed out the mane of fur that covered the back of my neck and shoulders.

"We like it that way.

way." My breath made little tendrils of fog as I spoke.

I had forgotten about that.

"Yeah, I can see why y'all are covered in fur now."

"You could stay in your ship with the heater running, if you wanted,"

I offered. "No, I meant what I said.

I'm your wingman."

"It's not too far to the house,"

I motioned with my muzzle.

"It'll be warmer inside.

Not as warm as you probably like it,

but you're a war hero.

You'll manage." I grinned wider.

I felt like jumping and running in circles around my ship and whooping.

I even unzipped my uniform a little,

baring some of the fur of my chest,

reveling in the winter of my homeworld.

He rubbed his wrist across his reddening nose and nodded.

"Lead the way," he said,

eager to be off. So was I.

The house, as I had called it in English,

was built into the side of a ridge and went deep underground for multiple levels.

So from the outside

it didn't look like much.

On purpose, really.

Homes were not meant to be impressive to anyone outside.

It was the inside and those that were welcome there that mattered.

We walked across the rest of the field

and onto a harvester path towards the ridge.

No one was outside.

It didn't occur to me to wonder why,

I was busy looking around

at the shapes of the trees,

the muted colors of the landscape.

HotSauce stayed quiet.

When we got to the door and I stopped, he finally asked,

"So is there like a doorbell or something?"

I shook my head and pulled on the handle.

The space inside was dark

and I tilted my head, sniffing the air.

"Something wrong?" asked my wingman.

"Yeah. The out-room shouldn't be dark.

Or this cold." He clicked on the light built into his wrist-comp and so did I.

Then we went inside.

I explained, "This place is supposed to be for the clanless, or anyone I guess, to shelter,

get a little food and water.

It's always open.

But it's like the power's gone.

gone." I headed for the opposite door,

the one that led into the actual house.

It was open as well.

Wide open. "Looks like no one's home, Wolverine."

"Yeah," I agreed, distracted and worried.

I headed into the house.

Just as dark and cold as the out-room,

I swept my little light back and forth,

into the rooms off the central hall.

No sound execpt our own footsteps and breathing. No warmth.

Just empty rooms with doors open

and piles of random stuff on the floors.

Like the place had been searched and looted many times.

I had had a lot of ideas about what this moment of homecoming would be like,

but none of them were like this.

I stopped when I got to the main kitchen.

The pantry was empty

except for a bunch of torn-open containers.

I didn't bother trying the water as it needed power to pump out of the cistern

and I could see that there was none.

I knew HotSauce wanted to say something,

but I was glad he kept his mouth shut.

There wasn't anything he could say.

"We need to go to the Clanhall in the city,

find out what happened here,"

I said, turning around

and trying not to run back the way we came.

He said, "Roger that,"

and stayed silent

all the way back to our Starwings.

This was the first of two parts of

“Speak to Me of Summer”

by Harry, read for you by Khaki,

your faithful fireside companion.

Tune in next time to find out what happened to Wolverine’s family.

As always, you can find more stories on the web at thevoice.dog, or find the show wherever you get your podcasts.

Thank you for listening

to The Voice of Dog.