Wild & Chance

by Allen Zadoff

  I stand out of sight and study it from above. My ears tingle, and I’m hit by a flash of memory.

  I’m in a sterile white laboratory, strapped to a table as dogs stare down at me from above. The memory is like ice on my paws.

  This base. I’ve been here before.

  It’s much smaller than I expected, a half-mile-wide clearing in the mountains surrounded by a high electrified fence topped with razor wire. At first glance it might not be a base at all, perhaps just a remote landing area for Black Hawk helicopters. But the memory suggests there’s more here than meets the eye.

  The problem is there’s nothing much in front of me. No dog-training center, no holding cells, no place for soldiers to live. I only see a landing strip, a fuel depot, and some kind of low concrete building in the center.

  Maybe my memory is playing tricks on me?

  I breathe deeply and can smell the barest trace of the children, no more than a few scent molecules lingering in the air, but it’s enough for my ultrasensitive nose to detect. Chance and Junebug were here not too long ago.

  I smell something else, too. The Maelstrom soldiers. They are somewhere nearby, which means I was right. There’s a base here. I sense the truth about where I come from is here, too.

  I step forward, and I feel a subtle vibration under my feet. I place my ear to the dirt and listen. I can hear the buzz of machinery and whir of ventilation units far below.

  The Maelstrom base is beneath me, buried underground.

  I snort and walk in a circle, excited energy building in my body. I have to get inside. The kids are down there, and the clues that will unlock my past as well.

  I walk the perimeter, staying out of sight in the forest, looking for any weakness in the defenses.

  But the fence is continuous, and there are motion detectors and antipersonnel mines dotting the area. The hum of electricity runs through the fence, a clear warning that one touch is death.

  I whine, frustrated, as I work my way back around to the front of the base. An imposing front gate is locked tight and framed with windowless black guard shacks.

  There’s no way I can get inside.

  I stand in the tree line, scratching at the dirt with my rear paws, feeling angry and trapped.

  Without warning, a dozen blue-uniformed soldiers surge out of the guard shacks, lining up inside the gate.

  Did I somehow trigger an alarm?

  A moment later a motor roars to life, and the massive gate in front of the base starts to move.

  I PREPARE FOR A FIGHT.

  The gate opens slowly, and I scan the dozen or so soldiers on the other side, men and women, their faces determined as they prepare to defend the base. I decide I will wait for them to come at me, lure them out of the base before I attack. If I can separate and confuse them in the forest, I might be able to take them down one by one.

  The gate is all the way open now, but for some reason, the soldiers don’t move. They stand, weapons in hand, waiting.

  I step out of the tree line, revealing myself to them, daring them to come after me.

  They look at me with a mix of fear and awe, but they do not come toward me. The commander raises her hand and gives an order, and the soldiers retract their zappers and place the black batons in their holsters. The line of men and women splits down the middle, opening a path onto the base.

  I’m ready to run, when the commander says, “Please come in.”

  I recognize the voice. She’s the same one who shouted commands to us in the PetStar parking lot before Junebug saved us.

  I hesitate, sniffing and catching her scent on the wind. It’s strong and steady, without the smell of fear I’d expect if someone were setting a trap.

  “I know you can understand me,” she says. “No one will harm you.”

  My ears perk up with astonishment.

  How does she know I can understand?

  I walk through the gate onto the base, sniffing the air for what lies ahead, my senses on high alert. I walk through the gauntlet of soldiers, stopping halfway down the line.

  I’m staring at the large Animal Control officer who tried to kill me back at Chance’s group home. He looks at me with recognition in his eyes.

  I snarl at him, considering my next move.

  He stands at attention, watching me under heavy lids. I see a single bead of sweat drip from his brow.

  “I remember you,” I growl.

  He looks at me, uncomprehending. He knows I’m talking to him, but he doesn’t know what I’m saying.

  The commander clears her throat, drawing my attention forward. She points to the cement building in the center of the base.

  “The base is under us,” she says. “That’s the entrance.”

  I give the large Animal Control officer one more glance, and then I walk toward the slab of concrete, torn between my curiosity and my desire for revenge.

  A lock turns, and a large steel door opens. I walk forward and the main gate of the base grinds shut behind me.

  I trot into the building and see an elevator ahead, its doors open, the interior wide enough for two dozen people, yet it’s completely empty.

  I step inside, and the elevator descends rapidly, dropping deep into the ground beneath the mountain. It takes a full minute before the journey ends, a tone sounds, and the doors open.

  I’m standing in a massive underground lab, and I have to steady myself as the familiar sights and smells assault me.

  It feels like I’ve been here hundreds of times before, yet I don’t remember where I am or what the purpose of this place is.

  It’s time to find out.

  The entry hall is deserted, but the smell of dogs and humans fills the air. I notice flashes of light coming from a large conference room down the hall. The conference room wall is covered with video monitors, the same scene playing on each one.

  The screens show footage from my fight in the forest last night. It seems to have been recorded through a night-vision camera, perhaps positioned on a drone. The Finisher and I move through a ghostly green landscape, our eyes bright spots. We fight savagely, rolling over and over through the brush, attacking, withdrawing, and attacking again.

  I hear a noise behind me and whirl around. A man comes through the door. He’s wearing a crisply ironed black uniform, a different style than the other Maelstrom soldiers, with none of the fake Animal Control insignia. His lapels are marked with the gold stars of a general. He has closely cropped gray hair and a dark complexion with light green eyes.

  “Nice to see you again,” he says.

  Do I know this man?

  He walks past, seemingly unconcerned by my presence as he opens a laptop and taps at a few keys.

  I growl to warn him, and he glances up and smiles. “I wouldn’t do anything quite yet. You’re going to want to see this.”

  The video footage changes on the screens.

  A dog is running through an obstacle course, fighting through muck and leaping over wooden barriers. I see her in different environments, swimming a rushing river, climbing a mountain, crawling through deep sand. I see her dodging weapons fire, attacking humanoid figures by striking at different places on their silicone bodies.

  “Look familiar?” he asks.

  The dog in the video has the same-colored coat as me. I watch her move through the training exercises, learning the kinds of skills I’ve used over the last few days.

  I grunt in astonishment as the memories gain form.

  I was born here.

  I look at the young dog on screen jump on her front paws and pivot, kicking out with her rear legs.

  “You must recognize yourself in the videos,” the man says.

  “The older dog and the puppy. They’re both me.”

  “Of course they are. These are like home movies for you. You don’t remember living here?”

  “Hang on—you can understand me?”

  “Every word,” he says.

  He points to his ear. He’s wearing a black earbud,
identical to the one from my collar box except for the color.

  “How did you get that earbud?” I ask.

  He laughs. “The real question is how did you get the earbud. And the collar. And everything else that makes you special.”

  “I don’t know what—”

  “You got them from me,” he says.

  I swallow hard and taste fear in the back of my throat.

  “Where are Chance and Junebug?” I ask.

  He waves away the question like it’s unimportant. “I’m the one setting the agenda today.”

  I get ready to spring, a growl rolling up from my chest.

  “Before you do anything stupid, I suggest you look down,” he says.

  I stare at the shiny black floor beneath my paws. Thin wires are running beneath me, and I can feel the hint of a powerful current causing my paw pads to tingle.

  “The floor is electrified,” the man says. “The circuit is completed by your collar box.”

  He opens his hand, revealing a small device with a red button.

  “If I press this button while you’re anywhere in the facility, you’ll be electrified instantly. There’s no stun setting and no warning.”

  I crouch, muscles at the ready, judging the distance from him to me and the time it will take for me to travel that distance.

  “I’m fast,” I say.

  “Not faster than electricity.”

  “I might be able to get to you before you even press the button.”

  “You might. But if you kill me, you’ll never find out who you really are. Isn’t that what you want most?”

  I stop growling and back up a step.

  He smiles. “I thought so.”

  He presses the laptop keyboard, and the video screens go black. “I’m a little saddened by your performance today. You were cunning before all of this happened. You would never have walked in here and made yourself vulnerable.”

  “Is that why you opened the gate? You wanted to see what I would do?”

  “I wanted to find out how much you remembered. Besides, we have unfinished business.”

  I pad across the room, and I see his arm stiffen, the red button tight in his fist.

  “Tell me what you did with the children,” I say.

  “Kids are like an obsession with you, aren’t they? You’re worried about all the wrong things. I thought we had trained you better.”

  “Trained me?”

  “I’m General Rupani,” the man says. “I’m the head of Maelstrom. And this is your home.”

  Rupani. The general Dr. Pao mentioned.

  I sit back, my head spinning, the memories coming in waves.

  The general watches me, the device ever present in his hand.

  “The kids call you Wild, but we refer to you as She-Nine.”

  “She-Nine?”

  “You’re the ninth in a series. There have been several iterations of Maelstrom dogs.”

  “The dog you sent after me in the mountains. He called himself the Finisher.”

  “Ah yes. He has a flair for the dramatic, doesn’t he? We call him He-Seven.”

  “Seven and nine. You give us numbers?”

  “The numbers are the different iterations. He’s a hunter. We have others who are experts at hiding, still others with great intelligence.”

  “And what am I?”

  He grins and takes a deep breath. “Ah, the eternal question. What am I, and why am I here?”

  “You must know the answer.”

  “You, my dear, were supposed to be a little bit of everything. The best of the best.”

  Blood rushes to my head and I stumble, dizzy from the revelation.

  “So it’s true. You’re using CRISPR technology to edit dog genes.”

  His eyes widen in surprise. “Did Dr. Pao tell you that?”

  “That and more. She told me how you stole her company.”

  He sighs. “Her version of events. Very one-sided. From my perspective, I saved her company. She only wanted to make pets, but I saw the true possibilities.”

  “To make a superbreed.”

  “Sadly, I’ve made a lot of mistakes along the way. Like you for instance.”

  “Is that why you tried to kill me?”

  “You went rogue, She-Nine. What did you expect me to do?”

  Rogue. There’s the word again, the same one the Maelstrom dog used to describe me.

  Before I can ask the general what he means, I catch wind of Chance and Junebug’s scents pushed through the room by the air circulation system, and I feel desperation tighten my chest.

  I have to save the kids.

  “I know the children are here,” I say.

  “You can smell them even on the filtered air?”

  I nod.

  “Impressive.” He pulls a pad from his pocket and jots down a quick note.

  “I want to see them. Now.”

  “Your survival is at stake, yet you’re worried about those kids. Explain that to me.”

  “They’re my friends,” I say.

  The general shakes his head. “You weren’t designed to have friends or to be reliant on human companionship at all. You make them love you, while you feel nothing.”

  “Nothing?”

  I remember the feeling of Chance lying behind me last night, his body warm against my back as he slept with his arms wrapped around me. The memory creates a sensation of longing in my chest. I want to be next to him again, right now.

  I look at the general. “Maybe you don’t know as much about me as you think you do.”

  We’re interrupted by a firm knock at the door.

  “Come!” he shouts.

  The door opens, and Junebug walks in. I rear back on my hind paws, stunned. She glances at me, then looks away.

  “Hi, Daddy,” she says, smiling at the general.

  I see the resemblance immediately. The general has a dark complexion and light green eyes.

  Junebug’s eyes.

  I snarl as she walks past, but she ignores me and gives the general a hug. He kisses the top of her head, casually draping an arm across her shoulder.

  “You’ve met my daughter, Jasmine,” the general says. “She was kind enough to let us know where she was in the mountains so we could come and pick her up. And your little friend Chance, too.”

  Dr. Pao warned me about Junebug, and she was right. It seems obvious now. The incredible coincidence that brought Junebug into our lives. The reason she had an earbud that could pick up my signal. Her stories of her stern father and the homeschooling and survival lessons.

  Junebug is Jasmine Rupani, the general’s daughter.

  And I missed it.

  “I call Jasmine my first and most successful experiment,” General Rupani says.

  Junebug’s face twitches and anger flares around her eyes. A second later it’s gone, and she’s smiling at her father.

  “You were a spy?” I ask coldly.

  “It’s complicated,” she says quietly.

  “My daughter got confused and thought she was helping you,” the general says. “But then she came to her senses and remembered who she was—and where her loyalties lie.”

  “You called the soldiers,” I say.

  “What was I supposed to do?” she says angrily. “You hurt that dog, and then you ran away and left us. You broke your promise to Chance.”

  The truth stings, and I look away, ashamed to meet her eyes.

  “You’re dangerous, Wild. I didn’t want to believe it—”

  “But it’s true,” the general says to her. “Just like I told you all along.”

  Junebug stares at me, her eyes tight with anger. “You left Chance alone on a mountain,” she says. “I made sure he got out of there safely.”

  “So you took him home to his mother?”

  Junebug frowns and looks to her father. “Not exactly home,” she whispers.

  The general steps between us. “I have the boy. He’ll be our guest for a little while until we straighte
n out some things.”

  “Take me to him,” I say as I move toward them menacingly.

  General Rupani holds up the red button, warning me back.

  “We have some business to attend to before you can see him,” General Rupani says. “You started a mission six months ago, She-Nine, and you walked away before it was done.”

  You went rogue, the dog in the forest said to me. Is this what he meant?

  “What mission are you talking about?” Despite my anger, I’m curious.

  “You were living with a family when—” Junebug hesitates, looking for the right word. “When this all began.”

  “That’s past,” the general says with a wave of his hand. “But Jasmine has a brilliant idea for the present. An experiment of sorts.”

  “A second chance,” Junebug says.

  She looks at me intently, pleading with her eyes.

  What does she want from me?

  “I’m not following,” I say.

  “Instead of killing you,” the general says, “we’re going to give you a chance to finish the original mission.”

  My eyesight blurs, the rage and frustration more than I can take. I watch the two of them, furious at the situation I’ve gotten myself into, the word games, Junebug’s deception.

  “Why would I work for you?” I ask.

  “You’ll perform one mission in exchange for Chance’s life,” he says.

  “Dad—” Junebug starts to say, but the general cuts off her protest.

  “This is how it has to be,” he says quietly.

  There’s obviously some conflict between them that I can’t understand. For now it doesn’t matter. All that matters is Chance’s safety.

  “One mission?” I ask.

  The general walks toward me, the button held by his side. Junebug bites at her thumbnail.

  “One mission, She-Nine. You follow my orders. You do what I tell you to do. That’s the price.”

  I think of Chance, alone and afraid, a prisoner somewhere in this facility. If it wasn’t for me, he would be safe at the group home now, hours away from being reunited with his mother. Now he’s in danger, and it’s all my fault.

  I’ll do anything to keep him safe, even work for this monster.