Chapter Twenty-Four - Dog Days

“Who,” Mem asked. “Is a good doggy?”

The mantis bent forwards, mandibles spread out in imitation of a human smile. Her scythes were planted on the ground to both sides, allowing her to bend forward so that she was level with the dog.

“You’re a good doggy!” she declared.

Fang fang panted.

Mem was really enjoying her new job. It was the best job she’d ever gotten. Sure, it had only been three days so far, and maybe things would get worse, but she was always hopeful that they wouldn’t.

Her schedule was pretty simple. She’d get up in the morning and then she’d tidy up her little room. She had her own room here aboard the F.O.S.S.I.L. Head, just a small room, with a nice comfy bed, and a window that overlooked one of the giant fortress’s many, many legs as it pumped up and down.

After she was done tidying up, she’d go around and untidy a few things. Mess up some bed covers, shift the bit of furniture she had and maybe spill something onto the carpet. It felt wrong to make a mess, but that nice Alex person that Rem was either trying to eat, or breed with, or both was always going around and cleaning things, and Mem though it would be very sad if there wasn’t anything for him to clean in her rooms too.

That was the wake-up portion of her morning. After that, she had breakfast!

Unlike back at home, where she’d need to be sneaky and find some food for herself, or where she’d have to fight with smaller sisters for scraps of meat, or worse, go hunting, here the food was just given to her, and it was very, very yummy.

She made sure to tell Alex and Rem that they did good work with the vegetables and the meat and the cooking. When Mem tried to cook things like a human did, she always forgot about it and wandered off, then discovered that it was all black and hard to eat. This not-burned food was really great.

She had seen the archer skeletons firing at birds and Alex gathering those to make food with, so she wasn’t too sad about eating the meat. At least she wasn’t eating kittens.

After that Mem had the day to herself.

Her only job was to make sure that Miss Limpet’s dog was taken care of, and Fang Fang was, as all dogs were, the best dog.

“Can you sit?” Mem asked Fang Fang. She was trying to make conversation. Fang Fang wasn’t too loud, but he was a great listener.

The dog sat, mouth open in a happy dog smile and tongue lolling out at one side of his mouth.

“Wow! That’s very impressive,” Mem said. “I can sit too, you know, but you make it look very good.”

Mem was genuinely impressed by Fang Fang. The dog could roll over. Something she could only barely do. He could chase his tail. She didn’t even have a tail! He could bark, which when she imitated always made the skeletons patrolling the F.O.S.S.I.L. Head go on alert.

“Do you want to walk some more?” she asked.

Fang Fang leapt to his feet and was soon walking out ahead of Mem.

She was happy that Fang Fang was a good dog because some dogs didn’t like her. She thought that maybe they were scared of her three foot-long serrated scythe-arms, or the spikes on her joints, or the eight eyes she had on her face. But she never wanted to hurt them, so she worked hard to prove that she was a friend, and sometimes the doggies would reward her by bumping into her sides, or by sitting next to her.

Once, a puppy fell asleep on Mem’s lap, so she held very very still for hours and hours until it woke up and went off to do puppy things.

Cats were nice too, but there weren’t any on the F.O.S.S.I.L. Head maybe if she asked that nice skeleton with a number as a name she could convince him to get some. He seemed like a very cat-like person.

Alex was undead, and he was part cat.

Mem considered this as she followed Fang Fang across the F.O.S.S.I.L. Head’s many decks.

Rem had always liked eating Mem’s kittens. Maybe she was a cat person? Would that explain why she maybe-liked Alex? Oh, Mem truly hoped so!

She wanted to know if Alex purred when he was happy, and if he would allow her to touch his tail, but Mem wasn’t sure they were friends enough for that yet.

She hummed a happy bug song as she stomped after Fang Fang. The dog ran up some steps and reached the top-most level of F.O.S.S.I.L. Head where all of the buildings were. Mem wondered if something counted as a building when it was part of a building already. A double-building?

Could buildings move? And if they could, were they still buildings?

She would ask people later!

There were a lot of skeletons around, not the nice talking ones like the number man skeleton, or the scary Harold skeleton, but plain ones that were very naked and who carried swords and spears and bows. Other undead stood nearby in neat rows too. All waiting for... something or other, Mem wasn’t sure.

The day before they’d stopped by the Lava Fist sect place and unloaded all of Mem’s humans, and some of the nice Lava Fist people had told Mem that they would be nice and safe. So she didn’t have to worry about any of them. It did mean that she no longer knew as many people on the F.O.S.S.I.L. Head, but that was fine. She could always work hard to make new friends.

“Mem?”

Mem jumped and turned to find Miss Limpet walking over. Miss Limpet was in her usual clothing. A wrapped dress with a simple geometric pattern across it, with a checkered shawl over her shoulders. At her neck was a proud bow, like the number-skeleton’s bow-tie, but much prettier. “Yes hi,” Mem said.

“What are you doing?” Miss Limpet asked.

“Walking Fang Fang,” Mem said. She pointed to the dog who was quite happily peeing on a skeleton’s leg.

“Oh,” Miss Limpet said. “Well, you might want to get back inside, and bring Fang Fang with you.”

“Oh?” Mem asked. “Is it going to rain?” Fang Fang getting wet would be sort of bad. He’d smell like wet doggy and she’d need to brush him, but she couldn’t hold onto a brush, so that would be hard.

Miss Limpet reached out, hesitated, then pat Mem on the shoulder. Mem held in her excitement. It wouldn’t do to accidentally cut Miss Limpet while doing a happy dance. “Mem, haven’t you looked outside?”

“We are outside,” Mem said.

“No, I mean... you know, out of this base.” Miss Limpet gestured to the side, then started walking that way.

Mem hesitated, then called out to Fang Fang to follow. “Come on doggy, we’re going with Miss Limpet!”

On hearing his master’s name, Fang Fang rushed over and ran circles around Mem and Miss Limpet’s legs. Miss Limpet laughed and rubbed the dog’s head. “He’s in a good mood,” she said. “You’re pretty good at this.”

Mem’s chest puffed out. She was good at something!

They came to a stop next to one of the little half-walls around the edge of the F.O.S.S.I.L. Head, where there were steps leading up the big boney walls. Above, on a platform that ran along the wall, were crenellations that Mem and the Limpet could use to hang on while looking out past the fortress.

There was an army camped out ahead of them.

Not an undead army either.

“Oh oh,” Mem said.

“You didn’t know?” Miss Limpet asked.

“Mem didn’t,” Mem said. Had the army snuck up on them?

Had they snuck up on the army?

“Well, that’s... alright, I guess. Master isn’t concerned. From what our wisp spies have determined, these are mostly normal civilians from the Hungering Inferno sect. They’re not even here for us.”

“They’re not?” Mem asked.

An army of that size, with hundreds of tents, looked to be about the kind of thing humans would want when trying to fight something like the F.O.S.S.I.L. Head.

“No, we think they’re at war with the Flame’s Heart sect. Maybe. It’s hard to tell. It’s not even a war, really, more of a skirmish, only both sides decided to start recruiting and training normal people.”

“What does that mean for us?” Mem asked. When there was a fight like this, Mom always picked one side to support, then Mem’s sisters got to eat a lot of people from the other side.

“It means that we’re a third force in a bigger game. I don’t know how they didn’t know about Master. Or maybe they did and chose now to start moving? I don’t know. We’ll have to wait to find out.”

“Oh,” Mem said. The mean cultivator that was with her, was he from the Flame’s Heart sect? “They sent a lot of cultivators out to do stuff.”

“Yeah,” Miss Limpet agreed. “It’s possible that this is the local sect trying to strike while an opponent is distracted. That would be a nice opportunity, and that kind of thing isn’t too uncommon in the sects farther away from the capital, from what I’ve heard. The Five Gates used to be five unique sects before this kind of take-over happened and united them. So there’s some historical precedent.”

“Mem doesn’t like this kind of thing,” Mem said. “Mem’s Mom always sticks her scythes in things, and then she gets to chopping and stabbing. It means a lot of dead humans.”

Miss Limpet looked over the army. They were still some ways away, camped next to a large cliff that they could only see above because the F.O.S.S.I.L. Head was such a tall mobile fortress. There was no way they hadn’t seen the undead fort.

Unless they were like Mem, preoccupied by playing with puppies.

That was a nice thought.

“I... don’t like this,” Miss Limpet said. She looked like she was very concerned. Mem was still working on reading humans. “This is the kind of thing that ruins so many families.”

“Cultivators being eaten?” Mem asked.

“No, not them. They’re the ones ruining things, the way they act.” Miss Limpet slammed a fist onto one of the battlements along the wall. “They come into towns and steal people away, kill anyone that looks at them funny, will humiliate anyone that questions them, even, especially, when they don’t make sense. They act like they’re small gods. I don’t know how ordinary people can become that arrogant, but they manage. And then they leave and expect us normal people to just pick up after their messes.”

“Mem’s sorry.”

“You’re not a cultivator, are you?” Miss Limpet asked.

Mem shook her head. Then she paused. “Isn’t Miss Limpet a cultivator?”

The girl shifted, looking down and away from the camp. “No. I wanted to be, for a long time. For the same reason I hate some many of them.” She barked a laugh. “I know I’m a hypocrite.”

Mem wished she could hug people. “It’s okay. Mem thinks you’re not that bad a person. You kill people, but everyone Mem knows does that. At least you treat Mem’s people nice?”

Miss Limpet didn’t say anything for a long time. “Damn,” she finally muttered.

Mem waited. It looked like Miss Limpet needed a moment to herself. Maybe petting Fang Fang would help?

“I think I need to talk to Master. There’s got to be a way to fix all of this without killing all those people. The cultivators can all choke for all I care, but those soldiers aren’t there of their own free will.”

“Mem wishes you good luck,” Mem said.

Miss Limpet nodded and stomped off.

Fang Fang, sensing that happy-time was over, came to stand next to Mem.

“Are you hungry?” she asked the doggy.

Fang Fang’s tail thumpa-thumped against the nearest wall.

“Oh, such a good boy! Let Mem find you some good food. Yes! Good food for a good boy!”

***