by Tasha Black
Sounds from the hallway told him someone else was awake.
He bathed and readied himself as quietly as he could in the men’s bathroom and then padded down the stairs.
Veronica. His stomach did a funny little flip-flop at the sight of her.
She stood in the kitchen, humming to herself as she poured a cup of orange juice. Her long dark hair fell down over her back in damp waves. She looked like the drawings of Wonder Woman he’d seen Rima’s comic books back in Stargazer.
“Good morning,” he greeted her.
She spun to face him, her hair sliding around her shoulders.
“Good morning,” she echoed.
“I did not mean to startle you,” he said.
“That’s okay,” she replied. “I’m used to being the first one up, that’s all. Want some orange juice?”
He nodded and she snagged another glass off the shelf, pausing to secure her hair in a ponytail before pouring his juice.
He tried not to mourn the loss of her loose hair as she bound it up again.
“Do you like to wake with the dawn?” he asked her.
She smiled as if surprised.
“You make it sound so poetic,” she said. “Yeah, I like to get up early. The dogs like it too. It’s best if I can feed them and spend some time with them before the trainees arrive.”
“I will learn to feed the dogs,” he told her. “So that you can sleep later, if you wish.”
“Thanks,” she said. “But I like to get up early.”
“We will feed them together then,” he told her.
“But first we’ll feed ourselves,” she said, tossing him a packet.
He observed it.
“It’s a protein bar,” she told him. “Nothing fancy, but it fills you up.”
He opened it, sniffed.
It had no smell.
He took a bite.
It had the heavy, gritty texture of the nourishment he had been given on Aerie as he grew accustomed to his new body. There was none of the flavor or flair of Earth food.
Veronica had eaten hers already. She crumpled the wrapper and threw it into the trash. It hit the rim and swirled in.
He finished his in two bites, crumpled his wrapper, threw it, and missed.
By the time he had retrieved it and thrown it away properly, Veronica was washing their cups.
“Let’s go,” she said, wiping her hands on her jeans.
They headed out into the garden behind the house, quickly reaching the enclosure for the dogs.
Veronica opened a gate that Lobo had overlooked yesterday, using a combination code to remove the padlock.
At the sound of the gate, the stable behind erupted with happiness. There was a cacophony of animal calls and moans, but it was the wash of warm emotion that had Lobo grinning from ear-to-ear.
“They’re hungry,” Veronica said, smiling back at him.
“No,” he told her. “They’re happy that you are coming.”
She didn’t respond but her eyebrows lifted slightly and he could sense that she was pleased.
When she opened the first kennel, a creature shot out like an inky bullet. Black as night and almost the size of a small horse, the animal capered and snuffled, bounding away and leaping back to Veronica’s side.
“Hey, Anka, did you sleep well?” Veronica asked.
Anka grinned with her tongue hanging out of the side of her mouth, pure pleasure pouring off her in waves.
Lobo’s own heart began to rejoice in response.
The enormous dog turned to look at him. She had sensed his joy as easily as he sensed hers.
To his delight, she leapt toward him.
He lowered himself immediately to commune with her.
She bathed his face thoroughly with her wet tongue, just as the other dog had done yesterday. Then she yipped at him loudly, as if to scold him.
“She expects something different,” he observed.
“Wow,” Veronica said. “Yeah, playtime is after breakfast. She’s expecting me to get the other dogs out.”
That made sense.
Veronica freed the rest of the animals one by one. She introduced them to Lobo as she opened their doors.
Anka was the alpha female.
Masha was the beta.
An active young male called Blaze seemed determined to topple Anka from her position of power.
As each dog came out, Lobo read its emotions. From Anka down to the omega, each had his or her own flavor and rhythm. Lobo found them all fascinating and wonderful.
“Hey, buddy, what’s wrong?” Veronica sounded worried.
Lobo joined her at the door to the next kennel.
Uncertainty poured off the animal in waves.
“I’ve never seen him like this,” Veronica said, squatting down to reach a hand out. “This is Biscuit, the best canine officer in our kennel.”
Lobo studied the cowering creature. It was an enormous dog, the same type as the others but somehow more gracious in its form, even now, while pressing itself into the corner of its box.
He lowered himself to the ground and sent out his most encouraging emotions, hoping it might be enough to reassure the uncertain dog.
Officer Biscuit cocked his massive head, then moved cautiously toward Lobo.
Lobo opened his arms, offering the big dog shelter.
Biscuit immediately closed the distance between them and thrust his forehead against Lobo’s chest in a friendly head butt. Gratitude flowed from him into Lobo.
Lobo smiled, burying his fingers in Officer Biscuit's silken fur. He leaned down and brushed his lips against the furry brow that was still pressed to his chest.
Biscuit angled his head slightly to allow Lobo to scratch and massage the loose pelt around his neck.
“I’ve never seen him like that,” Veronica worried. “I was going to do Schutzhund training with him this morning, but maybe I’d better hold off.”
Lobo wished he could figure out what had Officer Biscuit feeling so reluctant, but his gift didn’t really work that way.
“What is Schutzhund training?” he asked, pronouncing the word carefully.
“It’s kind of the ultimate training for a German Shepherd,” Veronica said. “That’s the type of dog he is - all of the police training dogs here are. Schutzhund is intense training for obedience, tracking and protection. All the traits of a great police dog.”
“Do all of them do it?” Lobo asked.
“They all do the training,” Veronica explained. “But Biscuit has the best shot at working in competition. Competitions are a great opportunity to find private sponsors for K-9 programs.”
“Do you need sponsors to pay for the K-9 programs?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said. “We definitely do.”
She looked worried.
Lobo nodded, wondering why the protecting warriors of this mysterious planet weren’t funded by the leaders they protected. But the culture was complicated - there must be some nuance he had missed.
“Let’s see if he feels better after breakfast,” Veronica suggested. “Come on, Biscuit.”
She got up, but Biscuit did not follow.
“Come on, buddy,” she coaxed.
The dog wagged his tail but didn’t move.
Lobo got up.
Officer Biscuit arose immediately and went quietly with him out of the kennel and into the sunlight, his broad shoulder pressed against Lobo’s thigh in a friendly way.
“He likes you,” Veronica said.
“I like him, too,” Lobo told her. “He is clever and brave, like the heroic Benji.”
She laughed, and the sweetness of the sound sent a shiver through him.
“Well, maybe you can help me figure out what’s going on with him,” Veronica said. “Keep a special eye on him for me today, please.”
“It will be my pleasure,” Lobo told her proudly.
9
Percy
Percy Reeves arrived for his session at nine o’clock on t
he dot.
Well, within five minutes of nine. His high school wrestling coach had once said that if you consistently arrived within five minutes of a time, one way or the other, that was practically as good as being on time.
Several of the other candidates were annoyingly early. Morrison, for example, looked like she’d been in the pen all morning.
Percy bit back a sigh. Fucking affirmative action meant that bitch had a great shot at the job whether she was early or not. No reason she had to try and show him up in every other way too.
But of course, the one thing Morrison didn’t have was Percy’s ace in the hole - his family’s foundation. At the end of the day, Nunez would have to remember that the Reeves Foundation kept a roof over the dogs’ heads.
If Percy was doing well enough with the dogs by the end of the week, there was no reason he shouldn’t expect to get the position, whether he was the best candidate or not.
The only problem was that he really wasn’t doing well.
The stupid dogs just wouldn’t listen. It was like they knew he was in charge, and they were trying to rebel against him.
He’d even done his homework and ensured that he got paired up with what was supposed to be the best dog in the place. He wasn’t wild about its name, but Biscuit made up for it with his size and snobby way of holding himself and walking around like he was an emperor.
But he didn’t do what Percy wanted him to.
Luckily, Percy was no slouch. He had researched problem dogs on the internet and come up with a great shocker therapy that was supposed to clear the problem up in training. Same-day shipping meant he could solve things quickly.
He’d snuck in last night for a session.
It was really satisfying to see that snobby dog howling in pain and cowering in the back of his kennel. So much so that Percy had skipped the training part and just given the bastard what for with the shocker.
After that, Percy had no doubt that Officer Biscuit would be on his very best behavior and ready to do whatever he was told.
The first time.
“Reeves,” Nunez called to him. “Glad you made it. You’ll be working with Masha today.”
It was then that he noticed that Biscuit was already on the end of Morrison’s lead.
Oh, fuck that.
He hadn’t gone to all the trouble with Biscuit for Morrison to handle him.
He put on a saccharine smile, something he hated to do.
“Oh wow. I was really bonding with Officer Biscuit,” he said. “I was hoping I could have another chance to work with him after yesterday. I spent some time going over everything last night after our session.”
Nunez looked surprised.
“I don’t mind working with Masha today,” Morrison said with a friendly smile.
“Fine,” Nunez said.
Percy snatched the leash from Morrison’s hand.
She relinquished it without a fight and headed for Masha’s kennel.
Nunez trailed after her, greeting everyone.
Percy crouched low to the ground where Biscuit cowered at the end of his leash.
“Morning, Officer Biscuit,” he said, making a show of being nice to the dumb dog.
“He likes it if you scratch his neck,” a deep voice suggested.
Percy looked up, his eyes tracing a pair of long legs to a huge torso, a ridiculously broad chest, and the piercing blue eyes of an absolute hulk of a man.
“I am Lobo,” the giant said.
“Percy,” Percy replied, straightening up only to find that he barely reached the other man’s chest.
They shook hands and Percy felt anxious from the moment he saw his hand disappear inside the mighty paw of the other man.
But the guy didn’t try and break his bones or anything with his grip.
Why was strength always wasted on the strong? If Percy were built like that, he’d lay waste to anyone dumb enough to shake his hand.
“I’ll be helping Veronica,” Lobo explained.
“Great,” Percy nodded.
“You know Officer Biscuit is considered to be the best dog in the kennel,” Lobo told him.
No shit, Sherlock.
“Is that right?” Percy asked.
Lobo nodded sagely.
“Okay everyone,” Veronica called. “Let’s get started.”
Percy headed over to the edge of the pen.
Biscuit hopped to it when he realized Percy was on the move.
Nice.
Veronica gave them a long boring speech about trust. Percy was zoning out, staring at her magnificent tits, when he heard his own name.
“…Reeves let me know he was going over what went wrong for him in the training yesterday. His conclusion was that bonding with Biscuit was a necessary part of getting their working partnership in the right place. Of course these dogs are anything but pets - but Reeves really hit the nail on the head when he talked about bonding. Your relationship with your K-9 partner is all about trust.”
She beamed at him and he felt himself blush.
“Okay, let’s go,” she went on. “We’ll begin with the exercise we ended on yesterday. Reeves, go ahead.”
Percy headed to the start of the obstacle course, Biscuit heeling well.
They approached the first jump.
Percy found himself thinking about yesterday, when the dog had pulled up at the last moment.
Just as before, the dog paused right at the jump. Instead of looking up at him with pricked ears like yesterday, it folded its ears down and whined a little.
Fuck.
Veronica strode up to him.
“Hey Percy, Biscuit was acting a little weird this morning, so don’t take this personally,” she said. “Let’s just approach it again together.”
He hated to share the limelight with the instructor, but if she was blaming the dog he was happy.
They took it again.
Again, Biscuit held back.
Percy was seething with fury. How dare this filthy animal mortify him in front of the group?
Then the big giant guy came striding over, too.
“Hey,” he said.
“Want to give this a whirl with Reeves, Lobo?” Veronica asked.
“Sure,” he said, giving her a big, shit-eating grin.
So Percy was forced to approach the obstacle for a third time.
He expected a third failure.
Instead, Biscuit leapt over the thing without hesitation.
Fuck.
“Stay with them,” Veronica shouted to Lobo.
Shit.
Percy wanted to tell her he didn’t need some enormous babysitter, but she had already turned to signal on the next candidate.
He tightened his grip on the leash until his knuckles were white, wishing he could threaten the dog with another shock session right now.
But that would come later.
Vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord.
10
Lobo
Lobo felt that the morning went very well.
Officer Biscuit had gotten nervous when the trainees showed up, but Lobo was able to help him complete his training work without fear.
Veronica seemed pleased.
She called a coffee break when the sun was high in the sky, but instead of relaxing, the candidates all gathered around her to ask questions.
Lobo decided to head back to the dormitory to bring her a drink.
He carefully used the gate rather than leaping over it.
As he approached the stone building from behind he heard a strange tinkling music. It was a merry sound, like nothing he had ever heard before.
Lobo decided to follow the path past the dorm to see what it was all about.
A large truck had stopped in the street. It was festooned with colorful pictures. The music was coming from speakers on its top.
Next to the van, a man struggled with two large boxes.
“Let me help you,” Lobo offered, dashing over and slipping a hand under one box.
“Thank you very much,” the man said, sounding very relieved.
“You are most welcome,” Lobo assured him. “I am Lobo.”
“I’m Ajeet,” the man told him. “And you just rescued one hundred ice cream cones from certain doom.”
“One hundred ice cream cones,” Lobo echoed in wonder. Back at the lab, they had an ice cream day each week, but one hundred ice cream cones was a staggering number.
“I thought I could carry these without my trolley,” Ajeet said. “But I was too optimistic. It’s lucky for me that you came by.”
He placed his box inside the truck and then relieved Lobo of the one he held.
“It was good to meet you, Ajeet,” Lobo said with a friendly wave.
“No, wait, my friend,” Ajeet said. “You must have your reward.”
He disappeared into the truck again, then reappeared quickly with two paper wrapped cylinders.
“For you,” he said.
“Thank you,” Lobo said, feeling secretly disappointed. He had hoped the reward would be ice cream.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Push pops,” Ajeet said. “Have you never had one?”
“No,” Lobo said.
“Ah, you must be an immigrant as well,” Ajeet said, taking a paper cylinder back and showing Lobo how to open it. “All American children know about push pops, I think.”
Lobo nodded but didn’t answer. He was grateful that he had not had to lie to his new friend. He simply hoped the other man would not ask where he had emigrated from.
“Thank you for the push pops,” Lobo said. “I need to get back to work.”
“Anytime,” Ajeet replied. “Nice to meet you.”
Lobo dashed back past the dorm to the training area. Luckily they had not restarted their session.
Veronica waved to him, a smile lighting up her beautiful face.
He was delighted to have made a new friend, thrilled to have a treat to bring back to Veronica, and happy beyond measure that his gift was useful in his new home.
Dr. Bhimani had said good-bye to him with a smile on her face, but he had read the fear that was in her heart as clearly as if she had been holding up a sign.
She worried what would happen to him and his brothers when they left the shelter of the lab behind for the dangers of the real world.