Dogchild

by Kevin Brooks

  All ablebodied females also become Fighters at the age of 12, and the same age rules apply to them as to the male Fighters. However, because of our declining population, all females are encouraged to have children as soon as they can – most of them have their first child at around 12 or 13 – and those who become mothers are relieved of their duties as fulltime Fighters until their child is 2 years old.

  At the moment we have 49 Fighters in total – 30 male and 19 female.

  Captains.

  The Fighters are commanded by 3 Captains. 2 are female – Captains Luca and Kite – and one is male – Captain Glorian. The Captains command the Fighters and are responsible for putting Gun Surs military orders into practice.

  Workers.

  These are the townspeople who are either too old or not fit enough to be Fighters, but are not yet old enough to join the ranks of the Olders. They perform the basic tasks that help keep us all alive. Theyre Farmers, tending to the birds and growing crops. Theyre Fishermen, like Starry, mining the sea and trawling the beach for whatever food they can find. Theyre Builders, maintaining the security of the wall and the watchtowers and keeping the town buildings as useable as possible. Theyre Armorers, manufacturing gunpowder and ammunition, repairing and servicing weapons. Theyre Grocers, Nurses, Clothiers, Carpenters---and theyre Doctors too. Or at least one of them is. A man called Shiva. Doctor Shiva is the last in a long line of Doctor Shivas. He was taught medicine by his father, who in turn was taught by his father, who in turn was schooled by his father. Our Doctor Shiva doesnt have any children, but hese taken on 2 Youngers as apprentices, so that when he dies wele hopefully still have someone to treat our illnesses and injuries as well as possible with the very limited medical resources we have.

  Youngers.

  Youngers are those aged between 5 and 12. There are 27 of us at the moment – 15 male and 12 female – including 4 dogchilds. We dont have any specific duties – apart from Fighter training – but weare expected to do whatevers required of us whenever weare told. This can include almost anything – running errands, picking crops, helping out the Olders, scavenging the town for charcoal and lead and empty shell casings. Our official Fighter training begins at the age of 5, and we usually train for at least 4 or 5 hours every day, often longer. So by the time we reach the age of 12 we already have all the qualities we need to assume the duties of a Fighter.

  Youngers are expected, and encouraged, to begin mating when they reach the age of sexual maturity, which is usually around 10 or 11.

  Dogchilds.

  Although the 4 of us are officially considered to be the same as everyone else – and as such weare expected to serve the town in the same way as everyone else – the reality is very different. Weare dogchilds. Weare not the same as everyone else. Weare different. Everyone knows it, and almost everyone treats us differently because of it. Some of them dont always show it in an obvious way, but its always there, just beneath the surface. We can feel it in them, we can sense it---

  And I know its not just me.

  Even though Ive never spoken to the other dogchilds about it – Ive never spoken to them about anything – I still know how they feel.

  Dogchilds arent forbidden from socializing together or becoming friends, but during the rehumanizing process its constantly stressed that if we truly want to become human again we shouldnt mix with other dogchilds. So we dont. But that doesnt mean we dont know each other. Theres a connection between us that runs far deeper than anything wede get from simply being together, and we feel this bond in our guts every time we happen to see each other in the streets. The only outward sign of it though – if any – is a fleeting glance in passing, an almost imperceptible momentary raising of our lowered eyes.

  We all know how we feel.

  We see each other. We know each other.

  We know what the humans feel about us.

  Its a confusing mixture of fear and scorn and aggression. Weare the same as them, but not quite the same, and that frightens them. We frighten them. Because they know weare capable of ripping out their throats in a moment. So they keep their scorn and mockery well hidden, only calling us mongers and tykes and curs and bitches when they think we cant hear them.

  We tell ourselves it doesnt matter---they cant help it--- its as natural as the hatred between rival packs of dogs, or between warring humans.

  Its just how it is.

  Thats what we tell ourselves.

  Olders.

  Anyone over 40 is considered an Older. They can still work if they want to – as long as theyre deemed capable – but theyre no longer obliged to carry out any duties. Out of the 18 Olders we have at the moment, about half of them are still only semi-retired. The oldest of them all is Lolo – a retired Fighter and mother of 3 – whose just turned 55. Most of those over 45 have some form of physical or mental impairment – blindness, deafness, some degree of madness – and all of them are cared for as well as possible. Whatever their state of mind or body, theyre revered and valued for their wisdom and experience. And as Starry had told me, theyre the only ones who know anything of our ancient history.

  And thats why Ime going to go and see them now.

  Most of the Olders live together in the Olders Home, a large 3-story building in the center of town that has dozens of separate rooms. Every Older has their own private room, but there are also several communal areas on the ground floor – including a dining room – where they spend a lot of their time together.

  It was midmorning when I left my house and began heading across town towards the Olders Home. The skies were blue, the sun blazing down, and the air was free of dust. On some days the town is draped in clouds of fine dust that drift in the air like mist – the dust sometimes catching the light and shimmering with sheets of color that ripple in the air like liquid rainbows – but today the dustclouds were nowhere to be seen and the air was still and clear.

  The streets were quiet but not deserted. People were moving around here and there, occasionally stopping to talk, but mostly just going about their business. I was so busy thinking about what I was going to ask the Olders that I barely noticed them. In fact, I was so deep in thought – and so familiar with the streets – that I wasnt watching where I was going, and as I turned the corner onto Main Street I walked straight into someone. I wasnt walking very fast, and the other person had seen me coming and had stopped in their tracks, so it wasnt much of an impact, but it was enough to knock the writing book out of my hand.

  Sorry, I said quickly, stooping down to pick up the book. I wasnt looking. Are you all right?

  Ime fine.

  I was just straightening up when I heard the voice, and for a brief moment I froze – still half stooped over – as if my body had suddenly seized up. It was a female voice, and although Ide only heard it a couple of times before, I instantly knew who it belonged to---and as the realization sank in, I felt a strange tingling sensation in my belly, a feeling Ide never experienced before. After a moment or 2, I managed to unfreeze myself and start standing up again, and even though I knew who I was going to see before I straightened up and looked at her, the sight of Chola Se standing there right in front of me, gazing directly into my eyes, still took my breath away.

  Ive always felt a special connection with Chola Se – something more than I have with the other dogchilds – but Ive never understood why. I dont know her. Ive never spoken to her. I dont know what it is that stirs within me whenever I see her or think of her---or when she sometimes comes to me in my dreams. I dont know what it is that she makes me feel, and I dont understand how I feel about it.

  And I still didnt understand it in that breathless moment, when I stood there looking into her eyes.

  Sorry, I muttered again. I didnt---I wasnt---I wasnt looking---

  So you said.

  Her voice was quiet and steady. It wasnt emotionless, exactly, but it had a sense of remoteness to it that gave her an air of not belonging.

  Although Ide seen her hundreds of tim
es before, Ide never been this close to her, and now that I was – and I was close enough to feel her breath on my skin – I could see that she looked exactly how Ide always imagined shede look if she was standing right in front of me. It was as if I already knew those large and sad-looking woodbrown eyes, that shaggy mop of bright black hair, that very slight crookedness to her mouth---

  She had the same indefinable difference about her that all dogchilds have, and she had the same slightly crouched-over posture that we all have too. She was wearing a simple black smock with a leather belt, black moccasins, and a necklace of colored stone beads. A long thin-bladed knife was tucked into her belt, and as far as I could tell that was the only weapon she was carrying.

  Are you all right? she asked me.

  I suddenly realized that for the last 5 seconds or so Ide just been standing there, staring dumbly at her like an idiot.

  Uh, yeh---yeh, sorry, I mumbled, feeling stupidly tongue-tied.

  Whats that? she asked, glancing at my writing book, which for some reason I was grasping closely to my chest.

  I didnt know what to say at first. There was something inside me that wanted to tell her all about the account, and I cant deny that I couldnt help thinking – or, at least, hoping – that she might be impressed by the fact that Gun Sur had chosen me to write it. But at the same time I was wary of saying too much. Gun Sur hadnt specifically told me to keep the account to myself, and Ide already talked to Starry about it, but Starry was different. I knew him. And despite the connection I felt with Chola Se, I didnt actually know the first thing about her. So I thought it was probably best if I didnt tell her everything about the account. But I didnt want to appear rude either.

  Its a---its a kind of project, I said hesitantly.

  Whats a project?

  Its like a task. A job Ive been asked to do---writing about things---

  You can read and write?

  I nodded.

  Could you teach me?

  To read and write?

  Ive always wanted to learn.

  All the time she was talking to me, I was closely studying her face, and I realized now that although shede never once smiled, the sadness that seemed so ingrained in her had lifted just a little. It was still there – and I got the impression that it was as much a part of her as her skin or her flesh or her bones – but it no longer seemed quite so intense as it had been.

  I could try to teach you, I told her, trying to hide my childlike excitement. I mean, Ive never taught anyone before, but I could try —

  Really?

  Yeh.

  When can we start?

  When?

  Yeh.

  I shrugged. Tomorrow night?

  Where?

  Wherever you like.

  Your house?

  Well---yeh, okay. I live in that little street just off —

  I know where you live.

  Oh---okay.

  Ile be there tomorrow night, before dark.

  Right.

  And then, without another word, she just walked off and disappeared round the corner.

  All I could do for the next minute or so was stand there in a daze, replaying in my mind everything that had just happened. It somehow seemed almost unreal. But if I had any doubts over whether it had actually happened or not, there was no doubting the beating thump of my heart and the rush of blood in my veins.

  I spoke to 5 Olders at their Home. 4 were residents, the other one just happened to be visiting. 3 of them were women – Leven Rai, Soyaan, and Lolo – and 2 were men – Cruke and Momid. Cruke was the nonresident. He was the youngest of the 5, around 41 or 42. Hede been a Fighter all his life – including 5 years as a Captain – and despite his age, he still looked as mean and tough as he always had. Hede lost his right eye many years ago when hede been hit by shrapnel in one of the last Dau artillery attacks, and although he was beginning to show the frailties of old age now, his battle-scarred face and empty eye socket still gave him an air of indestructability.

  As I sat with the Olders in one of their communal rooms and explained what I was doing and why I wanted their help, a Younger called Raoul came over to us carrying a platter of cornbread and a jug of water. Theres always a Younger on duty at the Olders Home to help them with whatever they need, and for a lot of the Youngers its the task they least like doing. The Olders with physical and/or mental problems can be quite difficult to deal with sometimes, and some of the Youngers resent having to spend their time nursing sick old people when they could be out Fighter training or learning how to make ammunition. From the way Raoul came slouching over with the food and drink and almost threw it down on the table, it was perfectly obvious that hede rather be anywhere else but here, and that he didnt care who knew it.

  He didnt bother trying to hide his contempt for me either.

  He never does.

  Most of the other Youngers are only openly hostile to dogchilds when theyre in a reasonably large group – theyre too scared to confront us on their own – but Raouls different. He hates us with a passion – especially me, for some reason – and he never tries to disguise it, whether hese on his own or not.

  He didnt actually say anything to me as he put the food on the table, but he didnt have to – the mocking sneer on his face said it all. Whats a monger like you doing with these sick old fools?

  But then Cruke spoke to him – You got a problem, boy? – and the sneer on Raouls face instantly disappeared.

  Uh, no---he muttered, lowering his eyes. No problem--- I was just —

  Go, Cruke said dismissively. Ile call you if I need you.

  Raoul nodded, almost bowing, and as he turned and scurried away there wasnt an ounce of arrogance left in him.

  So, Cruke said to me, his voice slightly softened. What is it you want to know?

  The essence of what I wanted to know was how and why our world was the way it was. Why and how had we come to be here? What had there been before the Long Walk? What was the world like back then? Had we always been at war with the Dau? And why? Why did we hate each other so much that the war would never stop until one of us had been annihilated?

  The Olders tried their best to answer my questions, but the truth is that although we talked for several hours, I was really no wiser about the past when I left than I was when I first arrived.

  The 4 resident Olders did most of the talking. I thought at first that Cruke didnt have much to say simply because he was the youngest, and as such didnt know so much about the past as the others, but after a while I began to realize that it was more to do with what he was, what hese always been, and what he still is. Hese a Fighter, through and through. Thats what defines him, even now hese retired – fighting. Its all hese ever done. Its his reason for being – fighting the Dau, killing the Dau – and everything else is irrelevant. The past, the reasons things happened, the history of the war with the Dau---none of it means anything to Cruke. All that matters to him is now.

  So most of the time Cruke just sat there and listened as the others tried to answer my questions. He listened as Leven Rai told me that there were once hundreds of thousands of people, as many people as there are stars in the sky, and that the world was a thousand times bigger than it is today.

  How long ago was this? I asked her.

  Oh, hundreds of years ago, she said.

  No, no, Lolo said, shaking her head. It was more than that, Leven. It was thousands of years ago---many thousands.

  Leven Rai frowned at her. Are you sure?

  Well---it was a long time ago, I know that. She smiled distantly. I remember my grandmother telling me about the great golden cities that floated in the sky, and the vast machines, as big as mountains, that kept everyone alive---and there was something else---something about---what was it?

  The old woman faltered, her eyes blinking vacantly.

  The silver men---? she muttered. Was that it? The silver men who lived on the moon?

  Her mouth opened, then closed---she frowned---then her eyes sudd
enly widened.

  No, no, she said quickly, it was the giants, thats it, the invisible giants, thats what I was thinking of, the Goods and Evils, the ones who could bring the dead back to life or burn the living in fires that never died---

  She stuttered to a stop again, her mind adrift, lost in a confusion of memories.

  There was magic, she said quietly.

  Everything went quiet for a while then. Leven Rai and Soyaan picked awkwardly at crumbs of cornbread, both of them slightly embarrassed by Lolos strange little outburst, while Lolo herself just sat there, her mouth half open, staring at nothing. Cruke, meanwhile, just carried on sitting in his chair, upright and unmoved, not saying anything, just waiting to see how Ide react.

  What happened to it all? I said eventually.

  Soyaan looked at me. What?

  This long-ago world, I said, all those people and cities and machines---what happened to it all?

  The Dau destroyed it.

  They poisoned the air, Leven Rai added.

  What do you mean?

  She shrugged. Thats all they said.

  Who?

  The Olders---our Olders.

  They told you the Dau had poisoned the air?

  She nodded.

  How?

  No one knows.

  I looked at Soyaan. Did your Olders know why theyd poisoned the air?

  To kill us all.

  Why did they want to kill us all?

  For the same reason they want to kill us all now. Because theyre Dau and weare us.

  I glanced at Cruke, hoping he might have something to add, but although he met my gaze – his one eye staring steadily back at me – he didnt break his silence.

  I turned back to the others.

  Does anyone know when the war with the Dau first began? I asked them.

  What do you mean? Leven Rai said.

  When did the war start? A hundred years ago, 5 hundred years, a thousand---?

  Soyaan and Leven Rai just stared at me, both of them frowning, as if they didnt understand the question.

  Then Lolo spoke.