by C. R. Turner
Max and I are sitting outside the shed, looking out over the rolling hills of wheat. There must be thousands of acres. Hati is peering over the horizon and starting to heat the cool morning air. Max rolls over onto his side, squashing me and pushing me over. Laughing, I raise my voice. “Ah … Max. Get off.” I manage to pull myself out from under his crushing weight. Laughing again, I pat him on the chest whilst he lays there.
After a while, some of the men emerge from their cabins. They walk around smoking, occasionally glancing at Max. I look down at my canine, lying there in the morning sunlight and admire his brilliant blue eyes.
I jump up as Marc approaches. “All the men are okay with you staying and working. A few of them are understandably a little concerned about your Canine Maximus though.”
He adds, “If you’re hell bent on making it to Arcadia, why don’t you stay for the rest of the harvest? You’re going to need a lot of money to get there. The harvest is half over but if you work as hard as the rest of us, I’ll pay you half of what they get: seventy-five thousand bills.”
Wide-eyed at the prospect of earning so much money, I eagerly reply, “Yeah. Okay.”
Marc walks away and I turn to Max, grinning. “Come on, you have to stay inside when I’m at work.”
Max looks up at me, his head still on the ground, unmoving. I -retrieve the massive stainless steel pot Marc gave me last night and fill it from a tap. Max jumps up, trots over, and with the tap still running, sticks his snout in the pot and drinks. When he’s finished, I take him and the pot back inside the stable, hoping he’ll be okay inside all day.
The farmhands are chatting, and I stand at the edge of the group, feeling like an outsider, until Marc leads us off to the largest farm shed. The big guy covered in tattoos, who gave me a hard time last night about not serving in the Union, turns to me. His voice is deep and raspy. “You might not be very big but you’ve got some stones hanging out with a Canine Maximus.”
The other men laugh, and I look over at Marc. He’s smiling. At the shed, Marc pulls out a small electronic device and types in a pin number. The doors slowly open and the guys go about their tasks. There are six harvesters in a line and all kinds of weird-looking machines scattered around the massive shed. I stand next to the first harvester, even its wheels tower above me. The machinery must be worth millions. I don’t remember the farm sheds back home being anywhere near this big.
I’m paired up with one of the other farmers, and we spend the morning shovelling the last of the grain out of the back of a harvester before refuelling it and heading out again. Throughout the day, I think about Max being cooped up inside, but I can’t help having fun working with the guys and playing with such massive machinery.
In the afternoon, whilst we’re packing things away, Marc walks up to me and asks, “Did you enjoy the work?”
“Yeah it was good. It was fun.”
“You put in a solid day’s work. I’m impressed. So you’ll stay on?”
I smile, enjoying being around him. “Yeah … that’d be great.”
Later, Max and I are outside the old timber shed when Marc approaches with a large hunk of meat. Max raises his head and sniffs the air. When Marc is twenty or so feet away, he throws the meat and Max grabs it mid-air with his massive jaws, then trots off to lie on the grass.
“He’s going to eat me out of house and home,” says Marc, laughing. I smile back but don’t say anything. Marc adds, “I don’t mind feeding him but if it’s all the same, it will have to come out of your pay.”
Surprised by his generosity, I reply, “Yeah, that’s fine. Thank you.”
“Alright.” Then he adds, “You know you can ride those things? I could teach you if you like, I have an old saddle you could use.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard they can be ridden. I’d love to learn if you have the time.”
Marc nods. “You know that my farm is contracted to supply the Union with grain? I just thought I’d tell you before you heard it from one of the guys. Some people have an issue with that.”
“I didn’t know.”
“Yeah. Well, it’s just a means to an end for me. I’ve never told any of the other guys this before so this is just between you and me, but as soon as I have enough money together, I’m planning on buying an old freight ship and getting a contract with the Union to freight grain. Once I can get clearance to take-off, I’ll disappear.”
“Is there any way to get on a starship? To get off Terra Primus?” I wonder aloud.
“No. Not unless you buy one. Only Union starships and contractor freight ships are permitted to take-off and land on Terra Primus. The Union starships are heavily guarded and all the contractor freight ships only go to the war, which isn’t somewhere you’d want to go.”
“Do you know where the war is?”
“When I was in the Army, I went off-world to several battles. All of them many light-years from Terra Primus. I think the longer the war goes on, the further from Terra Primus it gets.”
“I can’t wait to make it to Arcadia to get away from all the fighting,” I reply.
“Are you still dead set on going?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I wish you all the best. I hope you make it. If you want my advice, I’d get as much money together as you can before attempting it. There’s not much money can’t buy.”
“Do you have any family?” Seeing Marc’s facial expression, I immediately regret asking.
“No. My wife and son died in the pandemic. It’s just me now.”
Marc turns back to his house, then stops to add, “Get washed up and come down for dinner.”
It’s a down tools day, some weeks later, when Marc approaches me carrying an old saddle and reins. Max trots up, expecting food, and cautiously sniffs the saddle.
Marc looks at me and asks, “Do you think he’ll let me put it on him?”
“Yeah, I think so. The other day when he was lying down I sat on his back and he just lay there.”
Marc lifts the saddle onto Max’s back, and as he fits the straps I ask, “Where do Canine Maximuses come from?”
“They’re from a planet called Stratamus in the Fre Asteron system. Lots of people have tried breeding them on other planets but have had limited success. The Union normally captures pups from Stratamus and domesticates them before they mature.”
Marc tightens the wide straps under Max’s chest, then puts the reins on his head. Max stands there unflinching.
“Well that was easy,” Marc says. Then adds, “Now the hard part.”
He lifts the reins over Max’s head, and I climb up onto the saddle. I’m amazed at Max’s composure. He doesn’t even flinch.
I look down at Marc. “He must have had some sort of training.”
“Give him a nudge with your heels.”
I do and Max takes off into a flat-out run, so fast I fall straight off, landing hard on my back. He runs on for some time by himself before realising I’m no longer on his back and coming to a standstill.
Marc runs over. “Are you alright? That was a big fall.”
I push myself up then look around to see if anyone was watching. “Yeah. I take it that was too hard?”
“Yeah just a bit. Whilst they’re big animals they only need a little prompting.”
As I walk down to Max, he lowers his head as though he’s in trouble.
“That’s okay, Max. It’s not your fault.” I pat him on the head and lead him back to Marc.
I learn how to ride Max over the course of a few weeks, and Marc ends up giving me his old saddle and reins. Max takes to being ridden exceptionally well, and we go for rides every day after work, exploring the surrounding bush.
Marc reminds me of my father. I get the idea that he’s tempted to ask me to stay with him and run the farm. I’d be lying if I said the thought hadn’t crossed my mind. I hope he doesn’t. I don’t want to tell him I can’t. He’s one of the hardest-working men I’ve met and we’ve become good friends, probably forged by our
shared love of Max. Max has this power over people. If they can get over their instinct to run, people gravitate towards his majestic presence. I can’t get enough of him.
The harvesting season is coming to an end. Max and I have put on weight and are looking much healthier than when we first arrived. Marc has shown me maps of Paelagus and areas to avoid, giving us the best possible chance of making it through the city without being picked up by the Union police and drafted, as well as avoiding merchants that trade animals like Canine Maximus.
Early one morning, a few days before I’m due to leave, Marc walks up to Max and me.
“I got a call last night from the Union food merchants. They’re flying in in two days’ time to pick up the harvest. You and Max should take off straight away. If they catch you here, you’ll be drafted and I could lose my contract.”
He hands me a wad of Union bills. “Here’s your pay. There’s sixty-five thousand, after your pooch ate through half my freezer.”
“Thank you so much. I’ve never even seen so much money.”
“Just be careful with it. Don’t let anyone see it.” Then he hands me a square black scarf with heavy grey stitching around its edges. “I want you to have this as well. It’s my old Union scarf. I don’t have anyone to hand it down to … so I’d like you to have it. It will help keep you warm when you get to Arcadia.”
“Are you sure?”
Marc smiles. “Yeah. It’s been all over the galaxy.”
I unfold it. The word MOSAR is stitched on one corner. “What’s MOSAR?”
“Mounted search and rescue. All the MOSAR paramedics wear them. It’ll help keep dust and bugs out of your face when you’re riding, and it’ll keep you warm and help prevent frostbite in the cold.”
I look up in surprise. It’s one thing to give away a saddle and reins, but to give me such a personal item he’s obviously cherished all these years … I’m lost for words. “I didn’t know you rode a Canine Maximus in the Union.”
“Yeah. That mark in Max’s ear is the MOSAR tattoo. He must have escaped from the Union before finding his way to you. They say you don’t choose your Canine Maximus, but rather he chooses you. Stick together and you’ll be okay.”
“You might’ve met my father then.”
Marc looks at me, curious. “How so?”
“My father was a paramedic. He taught survival training on Arcadia. He used to tell me stories, when I was a kid, about the Canine Maximus and their riders on Arcadia.”
Marc smiles and nods. “So that’s where you got all your survival training from. We probably did meet. Isn’t that something?”
We both smile, then Marc adds, “You’ll do just fine.”
Chapter 4
It takes us five days to reach the city outskirts. Walking through dense bush we come across a creek and I pull on Max’s reins. “Do you want a drink, Max?” Hopping off, I lead Max down to the creek and take off his saddle and reins. The ground is covered in a thick layer of leaves, and little light filters through the gently swaying tree tops. I sit on the edge of the creek bed for a while before lying back and looking up through the tree tops at glimpses of blue sky. With the filtered sunlight shining on my face, I shut my eyes and enjoy the peace and quiet of birds chirping, the creek babbling and leaves rustling, only interrupted by the comforting sound of Max lapping up water from the creek’s edge.
Sometime later, I wake suddenly to a thump. Max has dropped a dead wild goat he just caught right next to where I’m lying. I get up, look at the goat, then at Max and smile. He’s looking at me with his ears pricked up and head turned slightly to one side.
By late afternoon, Max is lying next to the fire, staring at the meat as it slowly cooks. I love the smell of roast on an open fire. It’s my fondest memory of childhood. I take the meat off the fire and slide most of it off the stick and onto the ground in front of Max, before sitting down to eat my portion.
Once Max and I have finished, he sniffs at the bones lying on the ground next to me, then drops on the ground and sighs. He rolls over onto his side, right up against me, shuts his eyes with the warmth of the campfire on his face and the sunlight filtering down through the tree tops, and falls asleep.
As Max snoozes, I run my hand over his nice and toasty fur and think about how we first met, and how strange it is to have such a massive friend. Never in a million years would I have thought I’d have a Canine Maximus as a companion. I’ve been noticing all of his little idiosyncrasies: his patience, the little groans he lets out when I jump up on his back first thing in the morning — though with his strength, he wouldn’t even know if I was on him. I know his embellishing.
Several days later, Max and I are travelling through thick bush when we come across a rickety wooden bridge running over a gully. I pull Max up so I can take a look at it before deciding whether or not to cross it. The river running through the gully doesn’t look that deep, nor is it running too fast, so I decide it will be safer for both of us to cross the river than to risk the rotten old bridge. As we head down the steep gully, I lean back so as not to fall off, and Max struggles to get a grip, his claws digging into the soft ground.
When we reach the river, the ground flattens out slightly and Max enters the water. Midstream, the water comes up to Max’s shoulders and crashes over my legs, spraying up and showering us. We make it safely to the other side, and Max climbs up the other bank. When he reaches the top, he shakes violently to get all the water off, and I slip off the saddle, landing flat on my back. As I hit the ground, Max shakes once more, raining water on me, then turns to look at me sitting on my backside, droplets running down my face.
“Thanks, I needed a shower.” I grin.
I decide to stop for the day, remove Max’s saddle and reins, then clean up at the river’s edge. Later, I get my father’s stainless steel snares out of my backpack — they’re still in excellent condition considering their age — and explore the area, looking for rabbit warrens. I find a good spot and set the snares up the same way my father used to, making sure they’re well-hidden with leaves. The next morning, I have several rabbits to skin, gut and cook for Max and myself.
Max and I have been walking all day when something catches my eye, up ahead in the bush. I stop Max and look around. “What do think it is, Max?” With no one around, I slide off Max’s back and lead him over. It’s a concrete archway set into a steep hill, with a severely corroded steel gate that looks like it’s about to fall down. I draw closer. The chain and padlock are still intact, and behind the gate, there’s a tunnel that seems to run deep underground. There’s a tinny sound under my feet. I sweep the leaves and sticks aside to reveal an old sign. It’s decrepit and hard to read, but I make out the words ‘Gold Mine – Keep Out’. Undeterred, I try to pull the gate open. It falls off its hinges. Max and I enter the archway, and I stand the gate back up.
Walking down the tunnel, it’s getting harder and harder to see as the light fades. I accidently kick something on the ground, then fumble around for it in the dark. It feels like an old kerosene lantern. I shake the rusty old thing a couple of times. It still has fluid in it. I rummage around in my backpack until I find my lighter. After a couple of attempts, I manage to light the lantern, and with Max on my heels, we continue down the abandoned mine.
There’s a constant breeze blowing down the drift and the sound of running water as it drips off the roof and runs downhill. After hundreds of feet down a gentle slope, we come across an enormous room where the light from the lantern barely reaches the roof. Tunnels run off in all directions and several large mining machines covered in rust and dirt sit derelict in the main cavern. I open the lid of an old toolbox and find some bottles of kerosene, still full, as well as more lanterns. I fill a second lantern with kerosene, light it, then to top up the first one before re-lighting it.
With two lanterns lit, the room is much brighter, and I explore for a while with Max. Every surface of the mine is covered in millions of chisel marks. The only sound comes from the
lanterns flickering and water trickling. With tunnels running off in all directions and disappearing into blackness, it’s eerie. Whilst I’m scared for our safety, the excitement and intrigue of being deep underground is too compelling. There’s something about the desolate peace and quiet that’s appealing. It’s like my soul’s at peace.
Max and I head down one of the tunnels that runs off the main cavern into a smaller cavern cut into the side of the tunnel and decide to make a bed for the night. “We should be safe down here overnight Max.” Keeping only one lantern on low, we both fall asleep.
I wake to find Max standing next to me, his big eyes reflecting the light from the lantern in the dimly lit space, and giving me a fright. I laugh and gently rough up his fur. “What’s-a matter, Max? Can’t sleep?”
I pull out the smoked meat from my backpack and give Max some before taking a bit myself. I turn up the lantern and shake it to see how much kerosene is left.
Unsure how long I slept for, I head back to the main cavern. Max jumps up and follows. At the base of the drift that heads back to the surface, I get down on one knee and look up the tunnel but can’t see far enough to tell whether it’s day or night. The longer we stay down here the harder it will be to tell what time of day it is, or even how long we’ve spent down here. I look at Max who’s never more than two steps behind. “Maybe we can find some gold to help us get to Arcadia.”
With plenty of smoked meat in my backpack and enjoying the escape from the heat as well as the peace and quiet, I rummage through the toolboxes and gather up kerosene bottles, lanterns, picks and other tools to head deeper into the mine.
Hours later, Max and I are still walking downhill. I’m carrying a lantern in each hand, not game to venture too far off the main tunnel into the maze of smaller shafts. Something glistens up ahead on the rocky walls. I lift one of the lanterns, but as soon as I do, the glare obscures the glistening object. I take a closer look but can’t see anything until I lower the brightness of my lanterns and a patch on the wall lights up, reflecting hundreds of tiny gold specks in the rock face. I laugh and look at Max. “See that Max? It’s gold.” I grab a pick and start chiselling away at the rock face. At first only small rocks break away, but the bigger the hole I create in the wall, the more rocks start falling off and landing at my feet. I pick up one of the rocks and find it actually contains a couple of tiny gold nuggets. I manage to pry one of them out of the rock with my knife.
