The Dogs of God

by Chris Kennedy

  “I’m not mocking you,” Sergeant Garry said. Richard couldn’t disbelieve him. “There is a serious point to this, really. How about your Naval Command scores?”

  Richard blinked. “What…?”

  “You play Naval Command,” the sergeant said patiently, “and your scores are quite high.”

  “I…” Richard tried to wrap his head around what was happening. “I…you know my scores?”

  “Naval Command was produced by the Royal Navy, for various reasons,” Sergeant Garry said. “The Royal Navy owns and operates the servers for online games. Every time you log onto the site, your terminal automatically forwards your scores to the Navy. You attracted interest because you were one of the better players.”

  Richard swallowed, hard. “I…I didn’t know that happened.”

  “It is covered in the manuals,” Sergeant Garry said. “But then, most people don’t bother to read them…do they?”

  “No,” Richard agreed. He’d barely glanced at the online user agreements before signing them and starting his first game. Clearly that had been a mistake. He promised himself that he’d read them thoroughly as soon as he got home. Who knew how many of his rights he’d signed away? There were parts of his browsing history he’d prefer to keep firmly to himself. His mother would kill him if she knew where he’d been going on the web. “I…why? What does it mean?”

  Sergeant Garry leaned back in his chair. “You have three options,” he said. “First, you can petition to retake your exams in the hopes of getting the magic 95%. That won’t be easy, as you have no excuse to justify poor performance or accuse the markers of making a mistake or two. 94% isn’t exactly a bad mark. And, even if you do make the magic score, there’s no guarantee you’ll be accepted. Universities prefer to deal with students who get the score on their first try.”

  “Shit,” Richard said.

  He blanched. Students had been caned for less. But…the sergeant merely nodded.

  “Second, you can accept your fate and do two years of national service, then try and get a proper job somewhere else,” Sergeant Garry continued. “Your scores aren’t that high, when it comes to practical qualifications, but you could take online courses and work your way up the ladder. And there’s always interstellar colonisation. You’re smart enough to see the advantages of getting in on the ground floor on Britannia or one of the newer colony worlds.”

  Richard shook his head. “I wouldn’t be a good colonist.”

  “You never know.” Sergeant Garry shrugged. “And there’s a third option. You can join the Navy.”

  “I can’t,” Richard said. “My scores aren’t high enough.”

  “Not if you tried to join normally, no,” Sergeant Garry agreed. “But the Navy does have openings for people who meet certain requirements. Most notably, from your point of view, skill at Naval Command.”

  “But skill at an online game doesn’t mean I’ll be good in the real world,” Richard pointed out. “I’m good at Mortal Combat XVI, Sergeant, but if I tried to give someone an uppercut in the real world, I’d probably break my hand.”

  “Those fighting games have about as much resemblance to reality as the BBC’s live broadcasts,” Sergeant Garry said. “Take it from me, really.”

  “Yes, sir,” Richard said.

  Sergeant Garry looked him in the eye. “I won’t lie to you, son. Going to the Navy will be hard, particularly on this career path. You will never achieve high rank. You may not even be allowed to stay in the Navy, once the program finishes.”

  “What program?” Richard looked back at him. “What do you want from me?”

  “That’s classified,” Sergeant Garry said. “All I can really tell you is that you will be ideal for it, if you have the determination. You have the skills, if you choose to use them. The rest is just a matter of training, and we’re good at training people. And you won’t have to join the Army.”

  Richard had to smile. “Can I apply to retake the exams while joining the Navy?”

  “I’m afraid not,” Sergeant Garry said. “But the Navy does offer scholarship programs for short-term crew who want to make something of themselves afterwards. And you’d have the military bonus. You’d be top of the list as long as you met the course requirements.”

  “Oh.”

  Richard forced himself to think. He didn’t like the idea of being assigned to a program he knew nothing about. He didn’t feel up to serving in the Navy, even though he had to admit it wasn’t the Army. And yet, what other choice was there? He couldn’t be sure he’d get a higher mark if he retook his exams, and even if he did, he couldn’t be sure of getting a place at university. And the only other option was doing his national service and…he shuddered, helplessly. He couldn’t face the thought of spending more time with Colin and his cronies. They’d make his life a misery even if they didn’t kill him.

  And I could go to university afterwards, he told himself. And I’d have a very good chance of getting in.

  “I’ll join,” he said. “What do I have to do?”

  “Fill in these forms,” Sergeant Garry said. He passed Richard a datapad. “And then you’ll be on your way to the moon within the week.”

  Richard swallowed. “The moon?”

  “Oh, yes,” Sergeant Garry said. “Where do you think naval officers are trained?”

  The forms were nowhere near as long and intimidating as Richard had expected. He puzzled over it for a moment, then worked out that the military could simply draw whatever information they needed from government and school records. The recruiting officer who’d visited the school two years ago had cautioned them not to lie, pointing out that the military would find out, and the unlucky recruit would find himself in hot water. Richard filled them in, inked the bottom line with his signature, and passed the datapad back. Sergeant Garry printed out a handful of documents and passed them over to Richard, who checked them carefully. A handful of briefing notes, some aimed at parents and guardians, and a single travel pass. Richard frowned. He’d be leaving on Sunday.

  “Don’t miss your train,” Sergeant Garry said. “If you do, there’s a number to call. Bear in mind that you might wind up in deep shit if whatever happens turns out to be your fault.”

  “I’ll be in deep shit anyway,” Richard predicted. “Or am I just being paranoid?”

  “Even paranoids have enemies,” Sergeant Garry said. “It depends on who’s on the far end of the line, Richard, and just how much it costs to make up for the delay. Personally, I’d advise you to go to London a day early and stay in a hotel. You can use the pass anytime within the next week or so.”

  He stood and held out a hand. Richard took it and shook it firmly. “Have a good one,” Sergeant Garry said. “And I hope it will work out for you.”

  Richard nodded and left the room. The school corridors seemed deserted, nearly every student and teacher in class, save for a handful of unfortunates sweating outside the Beast’s office. Richard felt a stab of sympathy for them, mingled with an unholy glee at no longer being within the Beast’s power. He was tempted to do something daring like mooning the asshole when he came out, but he didn’t quite dare. Instead, he made his way down the corridor and out onto the streets. He couldn’t quite resist jumping for joy as he left school behind forever. Whatever happened to him, wherever he went, he’d never have to see the Beast again.

  He made his way slowly home, feeling his delight start to cool as he realised he had no idea what his mother would say. National service was a fact of life, but…it was relatively safe, unless one happened to share a platoon with Colin and a bunch of other assholes. And he’d joined the Navy. Would she be proud he was following in his father’s footsteps? Or would she be angry at the thought of losing her son as well as her husband? She wasn’t the only person on the street who’d lost a husband to the war, but…he sobered as he turned the corner and walked to the tiny house. Whatever happened, he promised himself, he wouldn’t have to come home after leaving the Navy. Who knew what he’
d make of himself?

  A dead body, perhaps, he thought. Or maybe there won’t be enough of me left to bury.

  His mother was hanging up washing in the front garden, her face suggesting that she was grimly intent on her work. Richard waited until she turned to face him, then held out the documents. His mother scanned them quickly, her eyes narrowing as she read the weasel words. The Navy wasn’t accepting any responsibility for anything.

  She looked up. “Is this what you want?”

  “No,” Richard said, honestly, “but it’s the best I’m going to get.”

  He followed his mother into the kitchen and watched as she put the kettle on for tea. It was what she always did when she was in the grip of strong emotion, from anger at his pranks when he’d been a child, to grief over the loss of her husband, or the latest set of rows with the in-laws. Richard sat and waited for her to say something, wishing he felt more guilt over leaving. But she knew the score as well as he did. There was no way he would not be leaving town for military service.

  “Your father would be proud of you.” His mother poured two cups of tea, then passed one to him. “And I suppose I should be proud, too.”

  Richard took his cup and sipped, lightly. “Aren’t you?”

  “I know how you feel,” his mother said. There was a hard edge in her voice that made him wince, although it didn’t seem to be directed at him. “You want to get out of here, don’t you?”

  “I don’t want to leave you,” Richard said. “I…”

  “Liar.” His mother smiled. “You’re at the age where you want to leave your parents behind.”

  She lost her smile. “I do understand. Growing up here…it wasn’t easy for me or your father, or any of your aunts or uncles. I know you wanted to go elsewhere. I do. But…I’ll worry about you. Elizabeth will worry about you.”

  “There’s no future here,” Richard said flatly. “Is there?”

  “Your father said the same,” his mother said. “And he was right.”

  “I know,” Richard said.

  He looked down at his hands, wishing he could put his feelings into words. The sheer grinding hopelessness of living in poverty, of never having enough of anything he needed…of having to endure the attentions of the strong and the dumb, the bullies who took their anger out on him. And, of course, the teachers who told him he should feel sorry for the bullies who picked on him. He had nothing but utter contempt for them.

  “I will give you my blessing,” his mother said. “And I hope it works out for you.”

  “Thank you,” Richard said. He would have had to go anyway, even if his mother had refused to give him her blessing. The paperwork made that very clear. There wasn’t even a grace period for him to change his mind. “I’ll try to make you proud.”

  “See that you do.” His mother favoured him with a wry smile. “And, when your sister gets home, we’ll have a proper dinner. You deserve some kind of reward.”

  And you thought I was wasting my time playing games, Richard thought. He didn’t say it out loud. His mother would not have thanked him for pointing out her mistake. Besides, the paperwork wasn’t that specific. She probably wouldn’t believe him. Still…It worked out for me, didn’t it?

  He slipped up the stairs to his room and read the paperwork again. The travel instructions were a mixture of clear and annoyingly vague. He could take any method of transport he liked, but he had to report to the naval post at Heathrow on Sunday at 2000hrs. He wondered if he should take the sergeant’s advice and book a hotel, yet…a quick look at the prices told him it wasn’t going to happen. His mother wasn’t going to shell out a few hundred pounds, even for a youth hostel in London. The capital had been an expensive city since well before the Tadpoles had tried to drown it.

  “Richard!” His sister was hurrying up the stairs. “Is it true? Did you really join the Navy?”

  “Yeah.” Richard held out the paperwork. “And now you can brag about me to your friends.”

  “Get real.” Elizabeth laughed. “If I tell them that, they won’t believe me.”

  “Probably not,” Richard agreed.

  “You’d better pinch yourself to make sure you’re not dreaming,” Elizabeth teased. “Like, right now.”

  Richard pinched himself. “Ouch,” he said. “I’m awake.”

  “Maybe you didn’t pinch yourself hard enough,” Elizabeth said. She leaned forward, reaching for him. “Would you like some help?”

  “No,” Richard said. He swatted her hand away before she could pinch his arm. “If this is a dream, I don’t want to wake up.”

  “And if it turns into a nightmare,” Elizabeth said, “you might just change your mind.”

  “Oh, shut up,” Richard said.

  * * * * *

  Chapter Three

  Richard had only been out of town twice in his life; once on a visit to distant relatives who lived on a farm, and once on a school camping trip that had been a foretaste of hell. He’d been dreading the journey to Heathrow, even though he knew the Navy would be paying for the entire trip. And yet it proved to be remarkably simple. The ticket officers gave him a monorail ticket without question, then informed him that the food would be on the house. He took a couple of sandwiches to eat on the journey before finding his seat and watching, quietly, as the monorail took him towards London. The capital was actually quite interesting, a strange combination of old buildings, some damaged by the tidal waves during the Bombardment, and newer buildings that seemed to lack a certain character. He would have looked around if he’d had the time. Instead, he switched trains and rode to Heathrow. The naval post checked his paperwork and ID, then pointed him into a waiting room. A handful of others were scattered around the room, looking as nervous as Richard felt. He couldn’t help thinking that none of them looked like real naval recruits.

  He frowned, wondering if someone was playing a silly joke. The boys—men, he supposed—were all varying degrees of overweight, blinking owlishly as they looked around the chamber. They were the kind of boys who’d always be at the bottom of the social hierarchy, just like Richard himself. The girls weren’t much better. They were prettier than the boys, but not by much. They didn’t look as if they gave much of a damn about their appearances. He told himself, sharply, that it didn’t matter. They were in the Navy now.

  A grim-faced man carrying a clipboard materialised in the doorway. “Follow me,” he ordered. “You’re all going to be screened before you get onto the shuttle.”

  Richard gritted his teeth as they were led to a medical facility. He’d never liked his annual physical at school, but the military doctors were far worse. They poked and prodded him, took more blood samples than he thought physically possible, and then asked awkward and embarrassing questions, before finally—reluctantly—showing him the door. The sergeant outside checked his datapad, then pointed Richard through a hatch and onto the shuttle. It was a little disappointing. There were no portholes, nowhere to see the stars as the craft rose to orbit. He was tempted to wonder if they truly were going to orbit. It might still be a gigantic joke.

  You’re being silly, he told himself as the shuttle filled with his fellow recruits. A brown-haired girl sat next to him. No one would put so much effort into a joke.

  He upbraided himself as the shuttle lurched into the air, the gravity field flickering and fading slightly as the craft crawled into orbit. The pilot kept up a steady stream of chatter, mostly completely beyond Richard’s understanding. He tried to keep himself occupied with wondering about the future, but…he couldn’t think of a good reason for the Navy to go to so much trouble to get him and the others. The girl beside him seemed equally confused when he asked. She hadn’t expected the offer of a naval posting, either.

  A low thud followed by a hiss echoed through the craft. Their escort—a young-looking officer in a uniform Richard didn’t recognise—stood, one hand holding onto the handles as he motioned for them to rise. Richard forced himself to stand on wobbly legs, his head spinning as he
realised the gravity field was uncomfortably low. It felt like something he would have enjoyed, if he hadn’t been trying not to make a fool of himself. The rest of the recruits seemed to be having the same problem. They hopped, skipped, and bounced through the airlock and into the Luna Base.

  “Wow,” the girl breathed.

  Richard followed her gaze, peering through a transparent bulkhead at the lunar surface beyond. It looked…busy, hundreds of vehicles and people moving around and carrying out inscrutable tasks, but…it was real. He felt an awed sensation in his chest as he spotted the blue-green globe floating high above, casting an eerie shimmering light over the scene. He was on the moon! Earth…he’d left Earth behind, perhaps forever. The thought caused him a pang as they were marched through a series of airlocks and into a small briefing room. A man wearing yet another naval uniform stood by a podium. Richard frowned as he took a surprisingly comfortable chair. He had the feeling the penny was about to drop.

  “Thank you for coming,” the officer said. “I’m Colonel Bagehot, Royal Navy. I imagine you’re all wondering why I called you here.”

  Of course, Richard thought sardonically. I don’t think you invited us for tea and biscuits.

  “You were selected, as many of you will have guessed, because your performance on Naval Command and a handful of other games suggested you possessed talents we could use,” Bagehot continued. He had a warm and friendly voice that suggested he wouldn’t take any nonsense from anyone. “You were earmarked as prospective candidates from that moment onwards and, when you graduated, we recruited you.”

  Get to the point, Richard wanted to say. Why us?

  “You have been recruited to take part in an experimental naval program,” Bagehot informed them. “In the event of you qualifying as naval officers, you will be given formal ranks in the same manner as those issued to starfighter pilots. If you fail, you’ll be returned home with no black marks on your records. Your service will be counted as your national service…”