Chapter 18

Title: The Hound and the Furry: How Human-to-Dog Transfers Will Change a Subculture

50-Word Pitch: Furries have existed since at least the 1980s, but until now, recourse for their desired transformations has been artificial implants at best. Now a breakthrough in medical technology may allow humans to transfer their personalities into canine bodies, called daugments. How will this impact those who have always desired it?

~ article pitch by Wicca Rodra to the editor-in-chief of Read Things Magazine

There wasn't much Pit could do the next day to avoid using one of the waste rooms. He did his business as swiftly as he could, burning with embarrassment, and followed the HUD map he'd plotted yesterday to the bridge.

On his way, he passed an open closet door that had been closed before. Unable to help himself, Pit poked his muzzle inside, enticed by a buffet of smells. When his eyes adjusted to the gloom, his gaze landed on something that made his stomach flop: the corner of an all-too-familiar logo, sewn onto the sleeve of an all-too-familiar shirt.

Pit backed out of the closet, nudged the door closed with his forehead, and scrambled the rest of the way to the bridge.

Fionn was perched on the edge of his chair, clipping his toenails. Pit recoiled as a piece flew off and hit him on the nose.

"Gods. That's disgusting."

"Oy, Pitney, my boy. I didn't expect you up so early. Sorry about that. Sort of forget how much I get away with in front of Rave. We're just a couple of bachelor pals, counterpoints to the other's stubborn ways. Now you, you throw a kink in the works. Have to excuse us while you get used to our routines. Eventually you'll learn how to stay out of the way."

Pit pawed at his nose. "Well, until then, any other bodily surprises I should know about?"

Fionn chuckled. "Ravenna keeps her alone time private enough that I've never seen it. As for myself, I've got a cabin and I strongly advise not to enter, whether you think I'm there or not. Either way, I promise you, it won't be worth it."

"I believe that," Pit said with a shudder. "I've already marked a few places I don't plan on returning. They smelled like sadness and desperation."

Fionn chuckled, that same weird fondness in the sound. "Appreciate the thoughtful insult, but what you're smelling is the last lovely lady I brought over. Haven't exactly had time to steam clean lately. Got hired by some high-falutin' ass and been busy ever since."

Pit curled his lip. "Mm. Whatever helps you sleep in there at night. Anyway. I, uh..." His insides clenched. Now the question he wanted to ask seemed accusatory. But he couldn't think of anything else to ask, so he blurted it out anyway: "So do you fraternize much with the Uprisen?"

Fionn carefully unlaced his hands and tapped the side of his rocky chin with a finger. "Interesting assumption. I'd be very careful with those around here, Pit, m'boy." His tone was quiet, dangerously so. "You don't like Tristan. I don't like Tristan. Puts us on the same side, I reckon."

Pit backed his ears. He blinked hard at his paws. He was sure of what he'd seen-the sharp lines and vulnerable Earth of the Uprisen emblem on the corner of a shirt worn by soldiers of the Uprising. But he had to admit, Fionn wasn't wrong. He might have to reevaluate his criteria for friends and enemies now that he was on the HAG's bad side.

A bit of information-gathering was in order.

Just as carefully as Fionn, Pit said, "I reckon it does put us on the same side. Walking right into rebel territory, though, that doesn't exactly put this old military mind at ease."

Fionn went back to clipping his toenails. "Chir's not exactly a hotbed of resistance activity. It was already identified as a holdout for Tristan, which may not be in your favor either, sir." It was the first time Fionn had addressed Pit by the honorary, and it made Pit's tail wag despite himself. "Nonetheless, there's a number of rebel strongholds nearby, including my own home planet of Canum, the last reported hideout for Isaias Asano."

The name rang a bell for Pit, who tipped his head to one side. "Asano. That military scientist? He and I were both briefly on Miranda at the same time, though we never met. He made all those headlines a few years back. What was that for again? Not space travel, but something like it."

Fionn nodded grimly, waving the clippers towards the window and the space beyond it. "Using black holes to skip over long distances. He and his wife Eryn were both studying it. Met that way, in fact, fell in love being the only two on some isolated station. Took them some supplies myself, once, though they were both a little eccentric. Fitting together, though. Worked on government dollars, did their research for the HAG. Anyway, Eryn decided against experimenting on someone else and tried the travel out herself first. No one's heard from her since. It went to trial, though, became a suspected case of murder-really messed with poor Isaias's head for a year. Finally proved she'd disappeared in the experiment, but never quite got his footing back with the general public. Most are still convinced he did it. He finally went underground, joined the Uprising."

"Did he?" Pit asked, caught up in the story. "Murder Eryn, I mean."

"Nah. Not Isaias. Loved her so badly he almost lost himself after she was gone. His little girl brought him back, I think. She's been the light of his life ever since. Her and the Uprisen."

Pit scowled. "The Uprisen are a bunch of gun-toting cowards who think they know what humanity needs. They think they can dictate what happens to the rest of the species from behind the safety of a shell political party. I have little respect for that kind of arrogance."

One of Fionn's brows rose, very slowly, independently of the other. "Ah. Arrogance, sir, would that be something you know about yourself?"

This time, the honorary didn't seem to come from a place of respect. Pit felt his ears pin against his skull, and the dull throbbing in his injured tail flared up with his temper. "Right. Plenty. So...Isaias."

Fionn cleared his throat, but it seemed like less of an apology and more like a laugh in disguise. "He was rumored to have a safehouse on or near Chir, possibly on one of its moons. Won't see him while we're on Chir, though. Unlikely he's still there, with how little his Uprisen have surfaced there lately, ever since Tristan and his people got flustered over him. Can't be seen going easy on the enemy, so they've focused their efforts where they know he's been."

"That's not how you catch a criminal," Pit said scornfully. "You have to get one step ahead of them."

"And that, my boy," Fionn said with a truly appreciative smile, "is why you have a chance. You'll outsmart them. I admire that in a man...or a dog."

Pit fought to keep his tail still. He was still irritated at Fionn's casual insinuations about his lack of humility, but he couldn't deny the man had charm in spades.

The back and forth between moods and whims left his head spinning. He was used to stolid, solid, reliable men who kept their opinions to themselves and didn't volunteer information unless asked.

Fionn was a different animal entirely. His face bore every emotion that passed behind his eyes, yet he managed to maintain a deep, distant mystery inside himself. Pit could no more judge Fionn accurately than the path of an asteroid.

To a military man whose sole purpose was to predict the patterns of the enemy, that was dangerous. Nerve-wracking. Irritating.

And weirdly endearing.

Pit had rarely met his match within his own circles. Other military men and women deferred furiously to him, in all situations, and the few that did choose to stand up to him fell laughably short. Academically speaking, he had few peers and fewer rivals, as a published physicist and engineer with honorary degrees at several galactic universities and the first to successfully design, implement, and grow a custom planet out of base materials.

Yet this rough-around-the-edges ship captain gave zero fucks about all of that, instead choosing to see himself on Pit's level unless it was proven otherwise.

It was strangely refreshing for a change. Pit felt like he'd been thrust into one of those celebrity reality shows, the ones where the contestants came away afterwards in their interviews and said things like, "I never ever would have chosen to do that myself, and yet...I wouldn't trade it for the world."

Okay. He'd trade the shitty accommodations. And the dog body. And the hot pursuit by well-resourced people intent on killing him.

Other than that...