“Age of dog and handler?” he asked.
“Kolby is, um, let me see….”
“Thirteen years,” the boy said. He might not know much about letters, but he could make his way around numbers as long as they didn’t get too demanding. He could count eggs and even do simple addition and subtraction, provided no one confused him by pointing it out. He could tell if sheep were missing or add lambs to know how many were born. Sometimes this involved the assistance of fingers as counters, but he could do it.
“And the dog?”
Fifteen thousand, four hundred and fifty in human years, MO-126 thought, which reminded him that he had not visited a hub terminal in a while and probably should go in for a routine checkup some day. Those he visited in the past remained operational, and the maintenance bays and their automated diagnostic tables still functioned. The hub terminals did not require oversight by the PM, which apparently burned itself out over a thousand years ago, so they should continue to be of use for many years to come. Corporation technology was pretty durable.
“Um, I’m not sure,” Kolby said. “He was grown when I found him. I’d guess about five or maybe seven.”
That reminded MO-126 of something else, but that decision could be put off for now.
“I’ll put down six,” the monk said. “How does that sound?”
“About right, I suppose.”
“The entrance fee is ten copper coins,” the monk reminded them.
Gumper handed them over.
“The contest begins tomorrow at noon. Be at the field at sunrise and you’ll be shown the course, given instructions, and told where you are in the lineup.” He pointed to a large, cream colored marquee tent in the distance. “A communal tent is available for you to sleep in tonight, if you wish, or you can set up your own tent outside. Do you have any questions?”
Neither of them did, and they went to the campground to find a spot. They brought their own tent, a borrowed one anyway, which they slept in the night before on their way here. It was intended to accommodate two people, but it was big enough for two people and a well-behaved dog. MO-126 normally slept with Kolby now, and last night was no different. He himself didn’t need to sleep, but he enjoyed the downtime and used it to relax and for quiet contemplation.
Several people and almost as many dogs wandered about the competitors’ campground already, erecting tents, cooking meals, and talking. The monastery complex itself stood on a low hill about a quarter of mile away. The oldest of these stone buildings were built only a handful of centuries ago, but the people here probably regarded them as ancient. The vineyards, pastures, fields and gardens surrounding them were enough to sustain the monks, but nothing more. They did not produce a surplus to sell to meet material needs, of which they apparently had few other than a new roof once in a while.
Gumper quickly found a vacant flat spot not far from a well and began erecting the tent.
“Once we get this up to claim our spot, we can go see more of that fair they have,” he said.
Kolby helped with the tent, and then man, boy, and dog went to explore the fair. They found many different foods on offer, and all sorts of games, which to the android dog’s eye seemed especially difficult to win. There were ostensible fortunetellers, herbalists who claimed miraculous curative powers for the contents of their jars and bottles, minstrels of varying skill, magic acts, jugglers, and storytellers. MO-126 sent a signal just in case any of them were NASH androids, but he received no replies. He thought something like this might attract any in the area. Perhaps there were none.
Gumper, due to his frugal nature, and Kolby because of his lack of money, avoided most of the places where the main business, like most businesses, was to transfer coins from the purses of the customers to the pockets of stall owners. They did spend some time later that night at the campsite’s bonfire, talking with a few of the other contestants. They knew no more about tomorrow’s event than the android dog’s humans did.
Early the next day, the competitors met near a fenced area encompassing about four acres. Inside it were three pairs of panels rather like short lengths of fence, a pen, and a herd of a dozen sheep. Three monks outside explained the rules. MO-126 listened intently and realized this would not be as simple as he thought. He felt certain he could complete the tasks, but he was not so sure he could do them better than the others. Several men and a couple of women with their dogs appeared quite confident as a monk described the course to them. Because of the number of contestants, the trials would take place over three days. The team of Kolby and Doggy would be the final competitors on day three.
The monks walked them through the course, showed them the post where the handler would stand, the place where the sheep would be at the start of the trial, the panels through which they must be herded, and the pen where they must be at the end. He held up a glass timer filled with fine sand and tipped it.
“This is how long you have to complete the course. Points are not given for speed, but no points will be awarded if all sheep are not in the pen by the time the last of the sand reaches the bottom of this glass.”
MO-126 watched as the sand trickled. It took fifteen point forty-two minutes. Now some of the contestants began to look concerned, and the android dog’s confidence grew. He and Kolby practiced with the sheep back at their village over the preceding weeks. Mostly, at least as far as MO-126 was concerned, this was to train Kolby. He could now make an almost convincing display of giving appropriate calls and gestures. They should do well. They never ran a course quite like this one in their practice sessions, but they attempted something much like each of the component pieces at one time or another. MO-126 added the average times it took them for each of these and knew he could do the course with even a few minutes to spare, if the sheep cooperated.
“Are there any questions?” the monk asked.
The android dog had none, which was just as well since he could not ask them. Gumper decided they should stay and watch. After seeing the other contestants, he may have been concerned about the safety of his financial investment in this endeavor. Kolby readily agreed. No one asked MO-126, but he too thought it a good idea. He wanted to evaluate his competition.
They had just enough time to grab something to eat before the first run, so they did. When they got back, a handler and her dog were approaching the judges’ platform. Five old monks sat at five small tables, each with a younger monk standing nearby holding a stylus and a wax tablet to note their scores. The handler told them her name and her dog’s name, and then turned to take her spot at the post. MO-126 must admit she was beautiful—a bit taller than average, athletically lean, great legs, glossy hair…. The human wasn’t bad looking either.
“Begin!” shouted the timekeeper, turning over the glass.
The woman made a complicated gesture with her hand and arm and barked a command to the dog, which rushed toward the sheep, fanning wide so as not to cause them to scatter or move too soon or in the wrong direction.
The android dog watched appreciatively. The bitch sure moved well, crouching low but still running fast as she circled the flock, then lifting to a commanding posture behind them. The sheep immediately took notice and began moving at a brisk pace straight toward the handler. The dog maneuvered them through the gap between two panels, deftly redirecting one that tried to go around. They never broke into a run, but they did not dawdle, and they never deviated far from the path the dog chose for them. MO-126 was impressed. The only way he suspected he could do better would be to get to the sheep a bit quicker, but that did not count in the scoring.
When the flock reached the handler, she gave another brief command. The dog circled the sheep around the post and drove them away through a second pair of panels at the left side of the contest field and, from there, through a matching set of panels on the right side. The layout formed a roughly equilateral triangle, and the sheep moved quietly and steadily between each point. MO-126 studied the many elements of skill and finesse in the dog
’s movements carefully. The bitch was better at this than he was. He felt little doubt of that. If he and Kolby went first, they would have lost, but the android dog held one great advantage. He learned quickly, and this demonstration taught him much, both about sheep herding and about not being overconfident.
The final step of the trial required the dog to herd the sheep into a pen. It carefully maneuvered them into position and guided the complacent flock inside. The handler moved from the post to close the gate. She looked pleased and a bit smug, and deservedly so, the android dog thought.
A sudden storm of applause showered from the crowd watching. MO-126 would have joined in if he had the hands for it. He hoped all the contestants were not this good.
Not long after, the announcer called out their score—ninety-five out of one hundred, and MO-126 wondered where they could possibly have lost those five points. Their performance seemed perfect to him. He’d have to pay even more attention to the next contestants.
They watched the remaining trials that day and the next. The announcer called ‘time’ on a few competitors who did not complete the course before the sand ran out, but most finished. None were quite as good as the first, which made MO-126 wonder if the monks intended this. Perhaps, through some kind of intuition or acute observational skills, they chose the best to go first, and, for dramatic purposes, last. Or perhaps this was just wishful thinking on his part. Regardless, he felt grateful that they would be the last to compete. He needed to learn all he could.
The unspoken point, apparently, was not just to get the sheep to go where you wanted, but to do it as calmly and efficiently as possible. Contestants lost points for scaring the sheep, for making them run, for letting them stop, for not keeping them together or in a line through the panels, and for other, more subjective things like the style of both handler and dog. The judges seemed to favor subtlety.
That was fine. He could be subtle, with people, anyway. With sheep it might take more concentration to detail because they reacted without thinking. Of course, they had little choice in the matter.
In the morning, Kolby’s nervousness showed and Gumper tried to be reassuring. He wasn’t good at it.
“Don’t worry, boy. That’s a good dog you have. He’ll do fine.”
That’s it. Put all the pressure on me, MO-126 thought. Unfortunately, the old man was right. Telling Kolby that he was a good dog handler would be an obvious lie. Even Kolby, who was at least bright enough to know he wasn’t bright, knew better, especially now that he’d seen the other handlers.
The boy knelt and hugged the android dog. The kid was relying on him.
“You can do it, Doggy,” he said, probably more for his own benefit than the android dog’s. “You’re the best.”
Talk about pressure.
“You know what to do, right?” Kolby said hopefully.
Yeah, kid. I was paying attention. Don’t worry. I’ve got your back. He could say none of this, so he just wagged his tail and tried to look confident.
The contestants on the final day were good. MO-126 observed some of them practicing back at the campsite, and they, too, learned from those who went before, but none were better than the first contestant on the first day. She remained the one to beat—her and her dog. Both of them watched attentively from within the crowd of spectators.
Finally, the team of Kolby and Doggy took the field. Upon seeing the boy, some began to wander away. They no doubt believed the competition as good as over. The current frontrunner beamed confidently.
MO-126 held nothing against her, or her partner, but he needed to do this for his boy. The prize money could change his life. Without it, his prospects were limited to a life of doing odd jobs for others in a tiny village. With the money, he at least could have a shot at a bit more. With a couple goats and a few acres of land he might make a life for himself. It would not be a grand life, but it would be an opportunity, one denied to him now.
The problem was that he was a nice kid, considerate of others, but not overly smart or creative. He possessed no special skills. He wasn’t even ruthless or ambitious, which some people, lacking any positive traits, can use to get by, albeit normally at the expense of others. MO-126 did not like people like these. They tended to think they were somehow more important or more deserving than other people. This was not only objectively wrong, but objectionable in every respect.
Kolby stuttered his introduction to the judges, all the while with his hand on the android dog for emotional support. The Wise Ones’ ever present beatific smiles revealed no reaction to the bumbling lad. All of them seemed to be paying far more attention to the dog next to him. MO-126 decided this was not the time for his stupid dog act, so he stood at attention and tried to ignore them.
Kolby went to the handler’s post and took a deep breath. MO-126 did not need to. His micro-fusion reactors were fully operational. He surveyed the competition field, noted the location and behavior of the sheep, distances, condition of the ground, even the wind direction and velocity. It took only a few seconds for him to calculate the optimal strategy for completing the trial.
“Begin!” the announcer shouted.
“G-g-go, Doggy,” Kolby said softly.
The android dog raced off, circling wide around the flock, emerging behind them and then giving them ‘the eye.’ The sheep, which must be used to this by now, immediately moved in the desired direction and through the first pair of panels in a fairly straight line. When he circled them around the post, Kolby stared with his mouth open, again. He did manage a nod, which provided enough, MO-126 thought, to suggest a command, and he herded the sheep through the rest of the course. Most of what he did duplicated the moves of the first contestant, but he did incorporate things he learned from some of the others.
Now, Kolby only needed to walk over and close the gate to the pen. MO-126 hoped his boy would not be too stunned or nervous to complete this last step. He glanced over his shoulder as the final sheep entered the pen and felt relieved to see Kolby approaching steadily, albeit with a stunned expression.
Just don’t run or trip over anything, MO-126 thought, and we should do all right.
He didn’t. The gate creaked shut, and the crowd roared.
Kolby moved as if dreaming to the judges’ platform to learn their score. His partner was more aware and optimistic. He knew he performed well, but was it good enough?
One of the judges spoke. “That is a unique dog you have.”
“Um, thanks,” Kolby said.
“Strange,” one of the other monks said to his neighbor. He whispered too softly for others to hear, but the android dog’s sensitive auditory sensors managed it without difficulty.
“Like that storyteller a few years ago,” the Listener whispered back.
“But not out of Tune.”
“A leading voice in some future phrase, perhaps?”
“A cadence yet to be played. Yes, I believe you are right.”
“The etude it is improvising may prove to be a melodic line.”
MO-126 could make little sense of this, other than that they apparently approved of his performance.
With a nod from one of the monks, the announcer yelled out their score. They were given the full hundred, which, coincidently, was also the prize money, a bag of one hundred copper coins. Gumper would get half of them, of course. It did not represent a fortune, but it should be enough for a couple goats.
“Congratulations. You have played well. May you always dance in step with the Tune,” the oldest monk said.
Kolby thanked them and walked away. Gumper soon joined them.
“Strange little guys,” he said as they made there way back to the campsite through several distractedly accepted congratulations from people along the way.
“Woof!” MO-126 barked in agreement. Strange was one of humanity’s defining characteristics, however, so he did not dwell on it.
“That’s a fine dog, you have there,” said a husky but feminine voice behind them.
The android dog and the two humans with him turned as one to see the woman who just lost the contest because of them. She stood almost a head taller than Gumper and appeared close to a decade older than Kolby. Her dog stood calmly beside her with appraising eyes focused on MO-126. The look made him uncomfortable.
“My name is Andrea. I’m from a village south of Sandshores, which I’m sure you never heard of.” She pointed vaguely north.
MO-126 knew the place. He had been there once prior to project termination and a few times afterward. It started as an offshoot settlement on the coast a little over two thousand years ago. The last time he visited, about a century earlier, it was a trading town with a permanent marketplace and docks for boats.
“Um, I’m Kolby. From, uh, Miston,” he said.
“Never heard of it.” This did not surprise MO-126 at all. People seldom traveled far from their birthplaces.
“I don’t think it’s near anything,” the boy elaborated. It wasn’t. Miston held nothing of special interest and was not on a direct route to anyplace that did. The android dog liked that about it.
“Well, wherever it is, you raise fine dogs there, if this one is any indication. Congratulations on your impressive performance, by the way. I thought I had the competition won.”
“So did I,” Kolby admitted. “You were very good.”
“I know.” She reached down to pet her dog. “Comette and I have won a few trials like this before. I can’t say I’m not disappointed about losing this one, but I’m glad I got to see your dog in action. His name is Doggy, right?”
“Uh, yeah. I called him that the first time I met him. He seemed to like it well enough, so I never thought about giving him another. I know it’s not much of a name.”
She shrugged. “A name is just a name. At least his means something. Have you ever considered breeding him?”
Oh-oh, MO-126 thought, taking an involuntary step backward.
“How much for the stud fee?” Gumper interjected.
Andrea smiled. “Comette’s not in heat now, but for a stud like yours, I could come see you when she is.”
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