THE ASSORTED NOTES OF THE DOG IN THE FIGHT

Setting: My conscience
Characters:
Christopher Marchcalf as Dog
Valley as v4113y
Cat as Master Upright AND Doctor Cartwright
The Wavering Masses as Adrien AND Percy
Extras just wondered onto the set

THIS IS WHAT I FELT LIKE UNTIL I CLEANED MYSELF UP, CONFESSED MY

SINS TO THOSE I HAD SINNED AGAINST, AND MOVED ON A BIT WITH MY
LIFE.

CHAPTER ONE
v4113y hummed a tune, glancing absently over the fences of Manor Palace
Gardens, she focused on the crow standing in front of her, and it flew off of its
own accord, settled on the Manors only domed roof.
v4113y glided onto the front decking of Manor Palace Gardens. The Palace was
closed to the public at this time of year, at the time when her family, the
property owners, traditionally converged there. There were seventy-four of them;
four grandparents, twelve aunts, ten uncles, forty-three cousins and five greatgreat grandparents. The sun was hanging low in the early evening, soon it would
be dinner time and all of the family, sparing a few of the elderly, would return
from their days joy out in the periphery of the Gardens.
v4113y hadnt had the urge to go out there today, she hadnt quite felt like it,
something cautionary had been growing inside her lately, so she had decided to
take reserve and locate her concerns. The pruned lawns, flowers and bushes had
all taken on a wilder inclination to her over the past couple of days, they had
been warning her of something lost which could yet be recovered. Not something
in herself, no, not something monumental, but something important nonetheless,
that she should locate and do her best by. There was something she was
responsible for, unaccounted.
V4113y wandered the Palaces large, bare rooms, which were lit only by the
evening sun, until she found her sister, who was curled up in a duvet on the
floor, peering into a tiny old television set.
What are you watching? v4113y asked.
Theres this strange man, he thinks he can take over the world, but he cant
really. v4113ys sister replied.
v4113y frowned, was this appropriate behaviour for her sister? She sat down and
they huddled together. The scratched and smeared television screen displayed a
tall and skinny young man, looking horrifically bedraggled, walking through a
street full of advertisements.
What is this, sister? v4113y asked.
Its called Fight in the Dog, I found it in Uncle Shearers box of old tapes.
Ive seen this already, v4113y replied knowingly, I watched it when I was your
age. It doesnt make much sense, do you understand it at all?
No, its quite sad really. Her sister replied.
Its a fantasy land which tries to poke fun at pretty much everything, its part of
a series of short films.
Why does it make fun of things in this way? v4113ys sister asked.

To make fun of things in order to question them. To make nonsense of things?

Its hard to explain V4113ys trailed off. Anyway, the man, hes called Dog, he
keeps trying to find out whats going on in the city he lives in, but the more he
finds out the more confusing it gets.
A bit like you, v4113y, her sister responded, sometimes I dont understand
what youre saying and I think you ought to speak more clearly. Her sister
laughed, biting her tongue in cheek.
What parts of Fight in the Dog dont you understand? v4113y asked.
Well, most of it, but it hasnt finished yet.
Okay, if you have any questions just ask me them. I cant quite remember
everything that happens, but its supposed to be confusing.
Its a bit like being inside a scary persons head. her sister replied, resting her
head on v4113ys shoulder.
Im not sure if you should be watching this, little one, but I watched it when I
was your age. If it gets too scary well turn it off.
Okay.
I remember feeling very sorry for Dog. V4113y continued; He was very
stubborn, he thought only he was right and everyone else was wrong, but he
really tried to help the world. No-one wanted his help though, it leaves him
feeling very alone
Okay, v4113y.
v4113y thought that maybe her sister didnt understand. She tried saying it to
her another way: So, you know when Uncle Shearer told you that you didnt see
that flying frog? He said youd got confused, that there wasnt such a thing, so
you asked him to disprove it, and he said One day youll understand, little one.
Do you remember how you felt?
Yeah.
You felt confused, right?
Yeah.
And then Uncle Shearer saw the flying frog too, the next day?
Her sister sniffled; Yeah, I remember.
And you werent sure whether hed really seen it? Or whether he was lying to
you, to confuse you?
Yeah, I remember.
Dog feels like that, I think.

Okay v4113y.
v4113y hugged her sister, she remembered what it was like being that age,
feeling how she did, how it was important to confront certain things. This was
one of those occasions, they were going to watch Fight in the Dog together and
then talk about it afterwards.
But, little one, remember that Dog does a lot of stupid things. He doesnt focus
on the positive and hes mean to people, but he does try to make a difference in
the world. He has trouble with communicating how he feels.
I feel sorry for him.
The grandfather clock struck five oclock in the hallway.
Can we watch it from the beginning, v4113y?
Yeah, weve got time before dinner.
Dinner! Her sister laughed happily, shed always loved the chaos of the dining
table at Manor Palace. All those eccentric relatives
v4113y took the remote from off of the floor, and re-winded the tape to the very
beginning, the old screen crackled as the tape reel dragged back.
Youll be able to tell me all about it now.
I will.
And when I say pause, v4113y, youve got to pause it and tell me what has
happened.
Haha, v4113y smiled at her little sister, Okay, little one.

CHAPTER TWO
The hangable bulb twitched to illuminate Dogs room. Slowly, the bulbs light
became more pressing upon the walls, the ceiling, the objects scattered between
files and paperweights. The filament moaned inside its glass casing, Dogs eyes
uncrossed from sleep and blurry forms of words entered his mind. He slouched in
his awakening state, the bulb swayed from side to side above him, flickering,
giving way intermittently to darkness. Yep, it was all still here, all the things in his
single room, the door to the en-suite firmly shut. Dog coughed up some vague,
plasmoid, gloomy thing and deposited it into the brown paper bag he kept at his
side. The chest of drawers in one corner, the filing cabinet in the other, the
posters sprawled, the single bed beneath him. He flicked a switch on the wall,
the bulbs light became opaque. Dog twisted the brown paper bag at the open
end and put it back in its place, lips curled in mild revulsion. Dog lay back onto
his bed, in his single room, the lights on, still half asleep this morning, the words
becoming louder in his mind:
Unremorseful spoutings of bollocks on this subterranean day. Dig deeper into
those neon lights to the left and right, even more reason to be paranoid if you
choose to look anywhere else. Getting angrier and angrier and the fighting
becomes more gimmicky, the evermore useful lines spiral into something
regarded by all as disgusting. The drums beat on and on against the tide,
completely unaware of any emotional battle intensifying. Doesnt care for it, only
dances, forever new. Forever the fevering savant of convention.
Smash, smash, forever afresh, this feeling can carry anyone to anywhere, past
those ever-reddening signs of smoulder to the left and the right. The fight in the
dog carries the rising star to an early grave. These words Id rather not save.
Mesh, mesh, mesh until nothing coherent is left.
No windows for Dog to peer out of, but he could safely assume it to be a musky
summers morning. Dog was due for schooling at Inventory Seven in one hour,
but first
Taptaptaptap taptaptaptap taptaptaptap taptaptapbrum.
Is that the right number of knocks, Dog?
I think so, Doctor. Come in.
Doctor Cartwright entered, bespectacled and nervous, smiling nonetheless.
Come on Dog, chop chop. Cartwright laughed, Dog laughed earnestly in turn.

Dog spoke: The light alarm has started to flicker, weirds me out in the morning,
thus my haziness. What you got for me today? Dog lay back on his mattress in
perfect recline, feeling suddenly fresher and better-disposed at the daily
entrance of his dear friend.
Doctor Cartwright pulled out a single matchstick from his own brown paper bag,
which, as always, was bobbing along at his left hand side wherever he went.
Dog produced a tripod stand, glass tube and a coloured crystal from his bedside
drawer. Within minutes the experiment was set up on the muggy carpet, the
crystal now set alight.
See how it glows! Doctor Cartwright marvelled. Illegal science, the most
exciting of practices.
Observing the shade of flame produced by the combusting crystal, Doctor
Cartwright compared it with the colour coder from his pocket, after some
conjecture the two of them had identified their new supply.
Blue 836. That means... Dog tutted to himself, browsing his files, finding the
relevant document, No, just wait a minute. Dog found the piece of paper
detailing the effects upon exposure of this Blue 836 crystal.
Here we go, in alphabetical order. Dog read aloud: Associative cravings:
Bumblebee Synth, death, fizzy drinks, generation of insecurity within the
populous, Leonard Cohen, Euphoria type 37q2, the theme park informally known
as Whoredom, and... zebra poo.
Dog placed the document back into its place on his shelf: But the Exposure
History isnt reliable enough information anymore. We can predict far better from
my crib sheet, which has produced accurate results since I started using it last
month.
Youre the man, Dog.
...And so are you? Dog frowned quizzically, quickly moving onto his crib sheet.
There was a brief moment of recognition.
And so, Dog announced, We have an eighth degree of paranoia associated
with the Blue 836 crystal. This paranoia has been observed in ninety-eight
percent of the colonies where it has been used. In turn, eighth degree paranoia
has been found to be correlative of an increased demand in gym-wear,
briefcases, and televisual dialogue about Perfectly Anatomised Workers. Then
there are two more loose correlations, which are still significant: Increased
interest in enlightenment through the Heimlich method and Auditory
hallucination of the Wedding Bells. Conversational fluctuations of the public were
also notable; seven words saw at least a 50,000% increase in usage, along with
all the expected synonyms, Ill shout these out for dramatic effect: WALLPAPER
PACKAGING ISSUE PET ACCESSORY FLUFFY MAJOR.

Meaning? Doctor Cartwright frowned with infinite humour.

Its that particular kind of not having enough around you again. Dog
concluded.
Oh, that particular kind.
Huh.
Hear that? Doctor Cartwright asked Dog, addressing a noise coming from the
room next door, Its your neighbour Dog, sounds a bit garbled to me.
He works in a factory manufacturing sunglasses for Latvian waitresses, the
bastard. Dog replied.
Shall I play you the latest song? Doctor Cartwright asked Dog.
For sure.
Doctor Cartwright retrieved a vinyl record from his brown paper bag. Handed it to
Dog.
They listened to the drums and sounds, three minutes elapsed in silence, as they
did so Dog pulled on his all-action uniform given to him by Inventory Seven; an
overall of delicate green.
Okay, Dog sighed, I must go soon.
For sure. Cartwright replied, embracing his old friend, as he did at least once a
day.
They departed down the metal, echoing stairwell together, out onto Beijing high
street
See you! The two called out to each other as they went their separate ways.
The sunlight was intense outside, the people wandered past Dog in waves.

His journey to Inventory Seven always found him two minutes before lateness.
Master Upright would not catch Dog tardy, not ever, as just five minutes away
was the charming building which housed him for seventy hours a week. Seventy
waking hours a week.
Inventory Seven was mostly definitely rectangular, bluntly of form.
I am confident in my purpose. Dog recited observingly to the receptionist every
morning.
Good morning. She replied, without looking up.
Has Upright got those You Are What You Eat results for me?
Oh! Its you, Dog. Doing alright? Evelyn, the receptionist, handed over a wad of
paper which proposed the idea that eating animals gave you their inherent
qualities on some curious atomic level. Ingesting the calming influence of the
Cod had partially cured some mood disorders, and the infamous libido of the
Goat had been found to work miracles in the bedroom, according to pop guru
Michael Evangelist.
Dog stepped through the foyer into Inventory Sevens main hall, yawning in its
size.
Occupying the great hall was a 10x10 grid of paper-walled offices. A silent
conveyer belt of mass production, a constant bustle of competitive movements,
colleagues constantly looking over their shoulders to seize on any discredibility
of the man next to him. Dog made his way to his own desk, Master Upright stood
on the balcony overlooking them all, Dog gave him a candid wave as he took his
seat in his office.

The people in their own offices sat still, tapping away at their own private, fearful
business. Dog surveyed his desk, the computer there was submerged with post-it
note doodles and rotting fruit cores.

Good morning, Christopher. How are you today? Upright boomed from on high,
out of his loudhailer.
Dog theatrically put his fingers in his ears, daring not to look up at Master
Uprights remote location.
Christopher! Master Upright re-iterated, I expect the usual payload today,
right on my desk.
Yes Sir! Dog saluted him, as was tradition, now he would leave him alone.
Good morning, Dog. Said Percy from next door.
Good morning.
Good morning Dog. Said Adrien from next door.
Morning.
Dog took out four folders from the wall and began to work, he must not breathe
above a certain level, or else it would put the surroundings out of focus, as
statistics show. No music, so Dog had learnt how to generate his own music
internally, unapparent flickerings of his fingers were the only giveaway of his
insubordination. But yes, he could turn off his natural hearing at will, and install
his own music in its place. It was an ability of his which achieved only degrees of
success however, as sometimes, like a faulty radio, the internal tunes would
occasionally change frequency or distort somewhat.
Dog ran with his internal dance constantly, inventing new genres whenever the
beat strayed into something uncontrolled by his immediate conscience. There
were never any lyrics, only splashes of meaningless vocals echoing through the
airwaves.
What he was supposed to be working on he knew not, he had long ago
internalised the necessary skills for completing his assignments deep into
himself, to the point where he didnt even need to consciously concentrate. It
had gotten rampant, his unconscious mind, only last year he could still at least
engage on the wider subject matters of his studies, now Dog couldnt even tell
you what he was doing, tapping away at his computer, yet still he consistently
studied to the standards.
And the wisdom they will sell us and the wisdom they will sell out of Blue 836 in
the coming months must be predicted and anaesthetised.
Or what? Master Upright had stealthily come down from his perch and shuffled
up to Dogs desk.
Huh? Dog replied.
Why does 4bii have particular relevance in this verse? Master Upright asked,
pointing at Dogs screen monitor.

Let me finish, then Ill tell you. Dog replied.

I sometimes fear you arent fully applying yourself, Christopher.
Who... Christopher... Dog turned around and smiled charmingly into Uprights
eyes.
Itll be your downfall, Christopher! Master Upright laughed quietly to himself,
then turned away, shuffling along to the next desk, a purely token one.
Hours drifted by, not particularly to Dogs noticing, until it was nearly one o
clock, lunch hour. Having swam through his shifting music catalogue and dumbly
observed the sluggish, sliding shapes that were painted on his minds eye, it
would take him a few minutes to wind down and prepare for his patterned
conversations with Percy and Adrien, his office neighbours. He dismantled that
other side of things which spoke to him in such a silly way, reminded himself of a
few common courtesies, and started to slowly recollect himseChristopher! Or should I say, Dog, how are you? Adrien was a nice enough
person, he wore a wide, soft smile of infinite patience.
Yeah Dog rubbed his nose, Alright. Been looking up potential government
positions, you never know what line of work you might end up in, even you
Adrien. There are, you know, entire provinces dedicated to Accent Reduction,
Monkey Addiction Therapy, Ideological Licking, it goes on.
Fascinating, these things seem a bit pointless though, I suppose something like
that would sate your love of the bizarre? I still want to go into Conservation Of
Neo-Forests.
These positions are dependent on rankings though, a technical 103-percent
score will get you transferred straight into Senior Year for any position of your
choice.
How can you have 103-percent, Dog?
Well Dog sighed, looked at Adrien, looked down, and smiled to himself:
When they analyse your self-esteem each quarter by plugging those diodes
onto your temples, all youve got to do is visualise a lot of sex, BDSM mostly. The
way they take measurements of your own relative worth doesnt factor in taboo
material that might be lurking inside your mind, thus you can crack the system.
Dont they find out?
I told them I saw all controversial erotic matter they found in me at an art
exhibit about Sixth-Wave Feminism.
They bought into that?
Yeah, its like, if you can access a part of yourself which isnt anticipated by their
instruments, you can create readings which cant be accounted for. They cant

void your percentage score either, as they have to accept margins of error in
their inherently imperfect equipment.
The translation between how we value you and how you value yourself is
imperfect. Adrien recited absently, adding: Article 4bvii.
Dog paused, suddenly a little paranoid; Indeed.
But Ive never seen any BDSM, I technically shouldnt even know about it. In
fact, it was you told me about it!
You have the authorisation to free web access here right? As befits your
station?
Yes. Adrien mused with uncertainty.
Dog leaned in more closely to Adrien: Just create a context to your endeavours,
thats all they want. Nothing else. Upright may act as if theres some unspoken
code one must adhere to, but really, just create a false scholastic context to your
desires, to your curiosity to violate taboo. BDSM? Sixth wave feminism. Self
harm? The Psychology Of Self Destruction by E.R. Mangate. Infallible Game
Theory Studies? Cold War VII, the film, not the event. Dont you see? Its these
taboo subjects, that if accounted for, than allow you further opportunities.
I see. We have a similar conversation most lunchtimes, dont we Dog.
We do, we do.
And you tell me of all these rules I could break. I become rather excited at all
these shortcuts you propose. Then I get home and forget all about it. Well today I
shall do something about all that.
Youve said that before, Adrien, but I dont think its in your nature, really.
Perhaps not. But, dont you feel guilty?
My morals dont lie here, Adrien.
Youve told me all about this as well.
Have a nice lunchtime stroll! Dog called after Adrien, who had arose and
walked away, puzzled and frustrated.
Dog then turned to Percy.
And how are you, Percy?
I hate you, Dog, dont talk to me. You know I hate you.
Ooh, I hate you, I hate you. Dog mimicked, cooing, turning back to his
computer monitor in his own office. He fetched his lunch from the trolley lady,
ate it, and resumed his veiled work.

Dog left his station five hours later, end of work, unable to really remember what
had transpired in his second shift of study that day. He recalled some scary
thoughts, that had seemed concerning at the time, but this was hardly true. The
work hed been doing without any conscious appliance was beginning to wear
him down, he was beginning to get confused by his methods somehow. He
resolved to go to the history department in order to review what hed actually
been doing the past week.
Dog knocked on the door of Shearers office.
Come in.
Hello, Shearer!
Oh, its you Dog, doing okay?
Yeah, fine, fine. Dog thought hed heard Shearer suppress a laugh, he couldnt
be sure.
What you needing? Shearer seemed to be eyeing him warily from next to the
Impartiality Scanner.
Copies of my submitted entries from the last five days.
Home and Residential?
If you wouldnt mind.
There was a brief moment of recognition.
Hows Records Analysis going? Dog asked.

Well Weve been making very gradual progress for the past decade now, we
always seem so close to a breakthrough, but it never comes off. It takes a fine
attitude not to fall into scepticism.
Ah. Dog managed to stutter in reply.
Hows old Upright? Still on your case old boy?
Of course he is, we fell into a feudal situation a very long time ago, soon Ill be
gone, we can get out of each others hair.
Sounds good, Dog. Hes a stickler for good manners and proper behaviour, Ive
never had a problem with it myself, but you on the other hand, never been able
to contain yourself. I remember how you would never cry when you were little,
but instead get into such fits which caused you to throw up. Strange behaviour,
Dog, very strange behaviour indeed
Can you remember any particular reason as to why Upright has become so
against me?
Apart from your unorthodox manner, none at all.
Have a think, Shearer.
I have, Dog.
Shearer started to drum his fingers on the table, the room was frightfully dim,
Shearer started whistling to himself, the photocopier flickered.
Done, Dog.
What. Sorry?
The entries you just asked for, from the archive, right here. Shearer held a
sealed document in his hand, freshly delivered from the printer.
I didnt see you do anything to procure them.
I didnt, Dog.
Automated system?
Shearer drummed his fingers on the table again, slowly shaking his head.
Goodbye, Dog. This new automated system works a treat, doesnt it?
Sure does, Shearer.
Shearer handed Dog his files, winked at him and laughed.
Oh, youre a bundle of laughs, Dog. Want to hit the town Friday?
Ill see what I can do. He shook Shearers steady hand and left his office,
perplexed as to his sense of humour.

Dog went back to his own office, a joke of a place when compared to Shearers.
At least Shearer had had his own door and four walls, for goodness sake. He
went through the unenviable task of checking out the document Shearer had
given to him, interpreting what hed been working on with his unconscious mind
for the last few days. All was dry, ordered, all was acceptable to his own
standards. He knew how to proceed, starting the penultimate chapter of the
terms payload, he knew again exactly what was required of him.
Dog left an hour later, doing some extra work after most others had left, but not
before Master Upright could slip a few words into him:
Christopher, could you self-assess your own Home Work tonight, rather than
having me do it?
Of course, sir.
Very well, until tomorrow.
Until tomorrow, sir.
Dog hurried home through crowds of workers all returning from a long days
work, the sun was already stretching toward its horizon. He would finish his
homework and self-assessments when he got home.
He crashed up the stairs and into his room. He took out the records Shearer had
given him again, leafed through them, but something was there which he hadnt
seen upon his initial inspection, something he couldnt believe he had missed.
Something that led him to believe it had been planted with the files well after
Shearer had handed them to him, but this seemed equally unlikely, the records
had been secured in a folder in his bag, no-one would have been able to sneak
into his office and do this without his knowledge, surely? He wasnt that unaware
when working, was he?

NAME: CHRISTOPHER newton MARCHCALF

GENOTYPE: INTUITIVE-SCHIZOPHRENIC-SAVANT TYPE 4Biv

PHENOTYPE: HOPELESSLY WISTFUL
PARENTS: classified
CENTRE OF ATTENDANCE: INVENTORY SEVEN
UPBRINGING: STATE OF CARE THREE (until aged 4), STATE OF
CARE 11
(until aged 6), STATE OF CARE SIX (until aged 7), INSTITUTE OF
CARE
FOR THE UNSTABLE (until aged 14), INSTITUTE OF CARE FOR
THE
CRIMINALLY INSANE (until aged 16), HOMELESS (until present)
CASE HISTORY:
Wilful disobedience [789], (Rudeness [691]: Caught Wide-Eyed [424],
Impertinence [248],
Enjoymence [6], Crying [6], Misuse of Words [6], Incorrect Analysis
[1]),

FILE PHOTO

This was bizarre. The facts were all present and correct, but the file photo?
Maybe someones idea of joke. Maybe Uprights idea of joke. He couldnt deal
with this. He had to get on with his work, but he wouldnt be able to concentrate,
he also had to produce results for the Purple 932 that Doctor Cartwright had
given him last week. Too much for one evening. Besides, he still had to go out.
Parents? He had no idea, hed fluked it all. Only the very rich indeed could afford
his genotype, and even then it was a traditionally undesirable one. IntuitiveSchizophrenic-Savant type 4Biv, had many animalistic symptoms, why would any
parents have paid for this? Also, who after paying for it would have given it up to
a foster home? No-ones personal history he knew resembled this. 27% percent
of the population had been given an elevated genotype, he was one of them, so
were all his colleagues at Inventory Seven. 0.14% of the population had IntuitiveSchizophrenic-Savant of any type, most of those were offspring of the very
eccentric, and few fared well in society. In fact, his entire genotype class existed
purely to preserve the morality of the Brighter Future programme, which had
commercially released all of these new and exciting possibilities for the foetal
form, without any real concern for the childs quality of life.
So he had been thrown away, the genotype programme had no evidence of
affecting further re-production, it was an individual thing that couldnt be passed
on further down the generations. He was stuck.
He still didnt trust his methods, finding out what these crystals did to people
was very tricky business indeed, it involved analysing chemical structure, human
psychology, the societal gears of everything around him. Harder still was
preventing the effects of these crystals spreading, which worked like asbestos of
the mind, he and Cartwright hadnt even got to grips with that yet. He was going
to do Cartwrights work first, see how Purple 932 would change things. The
bastards just kept changing things.

He wanted to be glued into something completely immersive, something that

removed him entirely from past or present. He poured water over the Blue 836
experiment, which was still on the carpet, smouldering from this morning. The
crystal coughed in despair as it was reduced to a fizzling liquid on the carpet.
Dog took out his pipe and bag, four grams of Purple 923, which was of a stock
currently being covertly laced into every nook and cranny of the Banquo colony.
He lit up, he felt the cannon. His dirty secret, not even Cartwright knew about
this, but it yielded results, far better results than anything Cartwright could ever
get to. This was the most direct exposure to the psychonautic experience of
living in a world full of crystals. He began scrawling down descriptions of those
waves of sensation on his notepad, knowing that he was going somewhere that
made no sense anymore. Voices spoke to him from a place where he had no
control. Where nonsensical statistics blended with inanimate feelings which
hadnt ever really occurred in the first place. He was ready once more to accept
that hed been cursed from birth with pretty much no self-awareness whatsoever.
The pen shook on the page, the music faded to nothing, what was left
underneath these bottomless pools of excess wouldve classified him disabled.

Lets go into my head, oh, its just like going to bed. Ill speak into my vortex again; in
what medium is one director, screenwriter, actor, cameraman and audience all at once? I
sit in a room of opinions, of onions, I keep scrawling happy, dont kiss me on my cheek
like Judas. One viewpoint hurts, IT HURTS. Radios cant be kissed, they taste like soot
and poo, this I thought I knew, this I thought I knew.
Very real threats of perceived terror enter the societally trapped minds. But to anothers;
You will jump when it bangs, dont cry at your body. We fear if we fear. We feel if we
feel. The waiting for a popped balloon doesnt have to keep on popping forever.
What are you thinking about?
Its not... Not anything! Fractured thoughts and feelings, thats all.
What, then?
Nothing, Id bother talking about something else. Theres nothing conclusively
interesting I can say.
Fuck?
Fuck.
Love.
Love.

He wasnt even speaking to anyone in his head when he wrote this, his attempt
to accurately reproduce his trail of thought was only what he desired it to look
like, not what it actually was, but that was all part of the process. He tried to
think of something that didnt involve himself.

Dyscalculia can affect many different areas of math learning and

performance. The most common problem is with number sense. This
is an intuitive understanding of how numbers work, and how to
compare and estimate quantities on a number line. Most researchers
agree that number sense is at the core of math learning. Dr. Brian
Butterworth, a leading researcher in dyscalculia, compares number
sense to being colour-blind. He says some people are born with number
blindness. This makes it hard to tell the difference between quantities.
Number blindness is one reason many kids have trouble connecting
numbers to the real world. They cant grasp the idea that five
cookies has the same number of objects as five cakes and five
apples.
Dyscalculia has been associated with female children who have
Turner's Syndrome, which occurs in 1 of 5000 phenotypic females, the
syndrome manifests itself in a number of ways. There are characteristic
physical abnormalities which affect many but not all people with Turner
syndrome, such as short stature, swelling, broad chest, low hairline,
low-set ears, and webbed necks. Girls with Turner syndrome typically
experience non-functional ovaries, which results in an absence of the
menstrual cycle and sterility. Concurrent health concerns may also be
present, including congenital heart disease, vision problems, hearing
concerns, and many autoimmune diseases. Finally, a specific pattern of

He wanted to draw an accompanying picture:

He wanted to scream, why couldnt it all just be facts? Dog stuck a label on it.

HEALTHY FEMALE

TURNER

He couldnt remove the personal element to simply observe the facts yet, the
panic instilled by Purple 923 was too maddening, but hed get there, hed had far
worse in the past. Images of himself, eleven years old, smoking Black 213,
nothing had been worse than that. That had been when hed found the
drumming which to this day developed in his mind. It was nearly over, the effects
had been rapidly releasing, he felt them fading already. He knew not how long he
had sat on his bedroom floor, looking back on his notes he couldnt even
remember writing any of this, let alone drawing the creepy diagram on the
middle of page. Reading over his notes, he hadnt even heard of Turner
Syndrome.

He felt one last wave. The final one, he could tell, better make the most of it. A
poem.
Flat line personality disorder
stares back at me, through
those big blind brown breadths.
Flat line personality disorder
makes the wildest ramblings
impossibly beautiful; Eight trees
in a line, all fingers, three
elephants pass between in
perfect equidistance.
BEWARE THE FRIENDLY
STRANGER.
Did I go mad or delve into
impressionism?
Did I gorge indulgently inbetween the flat lines?
Did I shout to the music. In. My.
ed. And pass it off as singing?

He was finished, the last wave over. He would analyse the results tomorrow, he
was tired and wanted to bond with a robotic whore, the woman he could relate
to. He was only ten minutes away from the local red light district, he had a
regular, her name was v4113y, and he called her Valley.
Head down, moving purposefully, Dog took himself out into the rain of a late
evening, dodging the dense metropolis population, carefully treading between
the cracks in the paving stones as he made his way. The bots here were good,
although a little creaky in the joints. Other than this the working girls were
essentially the same as all other humanoid-folk. There Valley was waiting, she
didnt even ask for payment from him, despite her programming.
The velvet entrance to LeMains Fine Dining, a strip club until it changed hands to
new ownership, was headlined by tasteful neon lights, the entrance stood under
a marble arch where a doorman stood attentively.
The usual, Dog?
Yes, thank you!
He proceeded into the lobby, booths for diners at the front, a conspicuous back
entrance led to the room of prostitute robots. Red was everywhere in the
restaurant section, a bar stood in the middle of the room. The barman purveying
proudly, eyeing Dog.

Alright Dog? The barman shouted across at him.

Yeah not bad.
He strode through the dining hall and found himself in the cold cell of a room
where the robots sat dormant, sitting next to one another on benches, there
were sixteen in all.

Dog took his shoes off as a sign of respect, Valley looked up at him from the
bench opposite, eyes aglow.
Come on Valley.
Okay, Dog.
She was more than human in many ways; her movements, although jarred by
mechanical force, seemed imposed onto some kind of super-reality. Her dollish
face hung poutily, sagging in sulky emotion. But her eyes pierced through the
numb demeanour, and her smile, which had crossed her face upon Dogs arrival,
betrayed any dumbness imposed upon her by her initial blueprints. Her hair,
which Dog had cropped himself, hung lazily, carefree, greasy brown.
He took her hand and led her into his privately rented room, which was
maintained by the staff there every afternoon. The room had a king size bed,
cream walls, and a ceiling which depicted the night sky painted by five year olds.
Valley breathed heavily, she was feeling self-conscious, she was very
disconnected from the outside world. She lived in a disused cloak room, sharing
a backless bench with fifteen others of her programming. She could sleep more
easily than a normal person though, shed told Dog, it wasnt as bad as if a
regular creature tried to live that way. Then she would sigh, saying it was still
hard, that she could feel her sisters eyeing her in the dark.
Dog had always thought of buying her and letting her live with him, he wasnt
sure why he didnt, as his reputation was already clouded beyond repair. She

would cost him two years of scholarly wages. It was worth it, he knew it, she was
worth stopping crystal for.
How have you been? Valley asked Dog.
Ive been okay, inevitably getting more and more internalised, but with that Ive
become more productive, Im doing good.
Are you confused Dog?
I am confused.
Im confused too.
Dog counted the clock ticking seven times before he spoke next.
I brought you some cigarettes.
Thank you Dog. Valley looked at him and smiled.
Valley counted the clock ticking seven times before she spoke next: You know, I
met a man who I was serving today, he told me that talking to my sisters was
like talking to an imitation machine, but that I was the special one.
Oh really? Dog replied.
Yes, he told me that I was designed as an imitation machine, thats what Master
Upright told us all when he came to inspect this place too. When Upright visited,
my cooling systems increased their power demand by four percent, a previously
unprecedented change.
What you think that means?
That Master Upright was nosing into your life with me.
No, I mean, what does your cooling systems increasing their power demand
mean?
That I got all flustered, I suppose. Because youd done so much to make me
believe in myself and that I was more than just An imitation machine. It made
me doubt.
But then the doubt went away?
Yes, then the doubt went away.
Dog stroked her hand, she stroked his forehead. He pulled her closer to him, she
responded. She looked up at him, they looked into each other.
Will you take me away from this place, Dog?
I will.

I can come to live in your house, I can come without my owners permission. I
will get up in the night and walk away from LeMain, yes, I can do that.
Dog leaked a tear: Yes, you can do that, Valley.
Sometimes I want to go to a bridge I sometimes think I can dream about,
although maybe I went there once, I dont know what the bridge is. I see myself
jump off the bridge, but I couldnt tell you whether Im imagining myself to be
me. Sometimes I want to jump off, Dog.
Dog counted the clock ticking seven times before he spoke next.
I dream about you Valley, when Im awake and when Im asleep.
My owner says Im getting rusty and need some new parts, but they will
probably just upgrade my model, which would wipe my memory entirely, and I
dont want that, Dog.
When would this happen?
In eight weeks.
Why didnt you tell me this before? Dog took Valleys limp hand in his and
clutched it tight.
Im sorry Dog, please dont be frustrated I would feel awful, but Oh no
Youll never frustrate me, Valley. But what?
I did only find out about this earlier today. I decided to listen in on my owners
conversation with the mechanic.
Im sorry, Valley.
Its okay. Just
I understand.
You do.
Dog counted the clock ticking seven times before he spoke next.
Im sorry I cant wait any longer Valley.
Valley exhaled like shed been released from an exorcism.
Do it, Dog. Its my everything.
Lie on your front Valley.
Of course, Dog.
Dog straddled Valley and opened the panel under her top, slowly and sensitively.
He took out his screwdriver and pliers. He laid out the blueprints of Valleys

internal workings, on the bed, which he had mapped out himself. Hed managed
to form new ideas on how to alleviate Valleys depression at work today. He took
his pliers to the relevant circuit, Valley gasped.
Gentle baby, gentle.
Dog squeezed her arm to reassure her. He slowly reconnected a wire into a new
terminal. Valley moaned in ecstasy;
Youre helping Dog, Im actually being helped by you
He reconnected six new wires, each time Valleys joy increasing, until she no
longer remembered her own name. Dog had made all the changes that he
wanted to for now. He closed her panel and turned her back over.
They lay gazing into each others eyes, under the covers.
Am I real Dog?
Yes.
They always told me I wasnt real, but you make sense. You actually help me. I
think you understand me.
A little spout of steam was puffing from her right ear.
Dog told Valley he would have her living in his bedroom very soon and that he
would fully commit himself to helping her adapt. She told him that she didnt
understand adaptation, but that she might understand it in future. They
embraced in silence for an hour, he left at closing time.
One day youll be completely independent.
Ill be able to do as much as you do, Dog.
If you want to youll be able to.
I know Dog. Well, Ill be missing you until I see you again tomorrow. I wish
theyd given me tear ducts I know I always say that.
Ill get you tear ducts.
Yeah?
I can do anything, Valley.
Valley laughed.

On his way home, Dog spotted four girls stumbling down Beijing high street after
a night of clubbing, one of them had been at State Of Care Six with him, he
heard her shout through a mask of make-up:
I know that prick from somewhere girlies!
Dog walked on by, the volume of the drumming increasing.

Okay, stop!
A NOTE FROM CHRISTOPHER MARCHCALF
Dear Little One,
An interesting day. But above all did a terrible thing. Fiddled with Valley again,
which was good, but everything around it is so bad I feel like Ive dug myself into
a hole of guilt and fear. I anticipate these feelings will ease off as time goes on,
but an unforgivable thing to do nonetheless. I have done wrong, end of, but if Cat
doesnt find out things will be fine. This is the terrible way Im looking at it.
Hopefully Valley wont really tell anyone, she wont, hopefully shell play wise.
Im a bastard. The act itself Im not bothered by, I just cant hurt my Cats
feelings. I will kill his soul, this is why it is such a terrible thing to do, to gamble
with my Cats heart. It should be okay, but I feel sick with myself. As long as I
dont do it again.
Slightly limp-wristed when doing it, suspect Im doing more good than bad.
Talking to Cat right now is a nightmare, but itll get better. Its not all that bad,
just such a dirty dirty act of sin.
Thanks for keeping faith with me, Christopher x

CHAPTER THREE
Well! How did you find that, little one? v4113y asks her little sister, pausing the
television set.
Urmmmm. Her sister resists response.
Interesting? v4113y encourages her.
Interesting, what do you think about Dog?
I think he cares too much, hes trying to get people to see things his way too
much, he isnt interested in making any friends.
It keeps carrying on and on and on, doesnt it little one.
Yeah. Why does he write those weird letters when he smokes the crystals?
Letters? I dont think theyre letters, its more like a diary, that means hes
writing it to himself.
Why does he do it though?
Youll see, youll see. Its all to do with the crystals. You see Dog smokes them to
take a direct hit of what everyone else is feeling. The crystals are put into the
buildings around where everyone lives, and they radiate the same effects that
Dog experiences when smoking them, hes trying to gage what everyone else is
feeling so he can stop it.
I dont understand, wouldnt the crystals naturally affect him anyway?
I dont know, baby, not really.
v4113y stood up, stroked her sisters hair, walked around the room the way a cat
might when deciding where to sit down.
Sounds like mental inflammation, darling. v4113y was informed by her sister. It
left her speechless: Why cant Doggy Dog communicate properly, v4113y? she
continued.

Hmmm His form suffers some strange injury. Youll see, in the end, youll see
why, its hard to explain but youll see why.
You dont know, do you?
Its not that I dont know. Does his form really suffer some strange injury? Does
he really fail to communicate with others?
Uncle Shearer says nothing will come of nothing, he says that saying anything
can lead to all kinds of terrible messes.
Are you okay, little one?
I do wish youd stop calling me that, v4113y, its hardly fair.
Cant I call you little one? Im only trying to be affectionate.
Sometimes I see these appalling masks in my minds eye, theyre so wild but so
exciting.
What else do you think of when you see the masks?
They have no eyes, or if they do, theyre painted on, hiding the second pair
behind.
When I was your age I saw butterflies out of the corners of my eyes, but they
dont come and visit me any more.
When I grow old, I hope not to suffer similar disappearances.
The butterflies v4113y recalled, They would scare me, you know? But they
never hurt me or anything. Once I realised they were passive, just watching me,
they vanished soon after.
Sometimes, when I sing, youve heard me sing, right v4113y? When I sing I
imagine all these masks to be watching me, all with different expressions on
their faces. Theyre sad, happy, angry Grotesque and extreme in their
reactions to anything I do. It makes me want to stop singing, but I carry on
anyway.
The thing with growing up is that you settle down, you manage to handle things
better.
What do you think of Valley, v4113y?
v4113y laughed: I think shes wilfully puzzling and its very charming.
Do you think shes using him?
Thats a very good question. Are you sure youre okay, absolutely sure?
I think thats very hard to tell for me, as is the case for anyone.
Has anything been confusing you to the point where it has worried you?

Please, v4113y. Obviously it has. Her sister scoffed, rolling her eyes
theatrically.
I was just asking. Dont be so high and mighty. V4113y retorted: I know youre
not really being that way but its okay to be scared by these things. Ive been lost
in the fog before An imperceptible breeze ran through the room; We all get
lost from time to time. Ive known what it is to grow weary of lies, but too
stubborn for the truth. Ive been too drunk off of myself, let my vulnerabilities
prevail in my decisions. Been kind when better cruel, been fool to my own tools.
Assumed I have had more power than those who I hold dear. Ive thought my
nature saintly, when really I was just some tamed creature. Its easy to forget,
little one, that we all have to contend with life. Its easy to forget that were not
alone in this shared experience. Ive been so scared of myself, so scared But
for what? Why? We are all people, I intend no harm. I must plot my course as
best I can, we all have demons. We cant please all, some will hate. Ive
deceived, Ive had to live with deceit, but then I realised It was time to
substantiate myself. I knew already that I had to accept myself, but I didnt
realise that the ship just has to keep on sailing, come rain or shine little one,
are you even listening?
More! More! v4113ys sister screamed gleefully, she had turned the
television back on some time ago.

CHAPTER FOUR
Dog transitioned from sleep to wakefulness as the new day dawned.
Taptaptaptap taptaptaptap taptaptaptap taptaptapbrum
Come in, Doctor. Dog curtly responded.
How are we today then, Dog?
Headache. Dog replied earnestly.
You could be coming down with what my wife has, Ritalin Flu.
Perhaps. Its been stressful lately, Ill admit, too much to do in too little time.
Well, yes, Dog, I can relate. Cartwright responded as he took his place on Dogs
muggy carpet, taking out a folder from his brown paper bag as he did so.
Whats that? Dog asked, indicating wearily to the folder in Cartwrights hand.
Preliminary results for Purple 934.
Dont you mean Purple 932?
No, 934. Have you completed your crib sheet for this yet?
No, I worked on 932 yesterday though, its in progress We are working also on
932, right?
Yes, Dog, we are.
Okay.

Lets look at these though, shall we? Cartwright started, taking pages out of his
folder; Here we are. Cartwright handed Dog a piece of paper.

PURPLE 934: An Insight

Purple 934 was developed by Latvian authorities, its primary use was for
control of the local students educational behaviours. However, after trials it
was found to be more promising purpose in causing an irrational aversion to
the Ocean in test subjects. All Purple 934 produced, after the Sea-aversion
conclusion, was sold to the Neo-Congolese, who laced it in the food of their
soldiers to reduce military AWOL figures. Other experimental uses are still
inconclusive, although trials have been launched in Grid Six in the hope of
reducing rates of Perversion in the area. Pharmacist Oliver Merchant had this
to say on the drug:
It proves the general rule: most, if not all, commercial products used in the
world today cause highly diverse effects in the populace, in accordance with
social context. We cannot conclude what could possibly link ocean-aversion
and educational-stimulant, despite thorough research into the products
atomic structure and contemporary human biology.
Trial patient 4bviv had this to say on Purple 934:
The fucking waves man, they go, they go so deep and no-one can see whats
at the bottom. No-one no knows, man, its silky surface betrays a darker
interior, its all monsters and bears down there man, fuck that shit, man.

Dog finished reading and gave the paper back to Cartwright.

Well, what do you think?
I dont know. It matches the pattern, like everything else, of perpetuating the
delusional.
I think its sick. Cartwright mumbled fatalistically.
So, we burn it up, we confirm the colouration of the flame, we consult the files, I
draw up my crib sheet. Then what?
We can send pamphlets to Neo-Congolese soldiers?

Dog let out a scream of frustration: Okay, but youre making the pamphlets.
Dog hugged Cartwright hastily as they departed, they descended down the
echoing stairwell together, as always, before going their separate ways.
A child stood at the entrance to Dogs apartment block, green and shrivelled.
You alright, mate? Dog asked, eyeing her warily.
Change, sir? She asked, eyes averted.
Very funny, little one. Dog took two loose coins from his pocket and dropped
them carefully into her hand.
Not the richest yourself then, Dog?
How do you know my name?
We shared landlords.
You live here?
We used to share landlords, mum & I.
Wheres your mum now?
Loonie bin.
I wish I could give you more change, but I havent the money yet.
You must be a bit of a loser, Dog. The girl laughed and ran away, shouting:
Thank you!
Thats cool Dog muttered under his breath.
Inventory Seven opened its doors to him that day, as it did all days. Master
Upright was standing close at hand when Dog reached his desk.
Inadequate Christopher. He jibed, arms crossed, leaning against a nearby pillar.
Nice to see your show of support. Ill have those documents for you tomorrow,
happy?
Ive reviewed the rest of your work: quite brilliant, revealing of your character
also. Youre a striver! Youre like me in a lot of ways, always striving.
I wouldnt reject your position if it were offered to me, Master.
I dont respond to those kinds of suggestions, theyre hardly wholesome. The
natural drafting process must determine my successor, no matter how much I
would love to elect you. Upright leaned closer in: I did find your work a little
confused, Christopher. Proud and confused, even, if I might say so myself.
Shut up.

Master Upright sighed to himself: May I remind you that Im your superior?
No. You may not remind me of anything.
Well thats a shame. Upright clucked his tongue several times, a feigned
unconscious expression: Ive been meaning to get away from the civilised life.
Get out into the country, you know?
I dont know.
Have you been to Grid Six? Beautiful hills, natural scenery, curvaceous land
Ah, old Grid Six. I might walk among the trees, dip my toes in the rivers of the
valleys... Upright slowly paced toward Dog until he stood directly behind him,
lurching over the fevering students drooped body: Yes, Christopher, Ill record
that flinching of your left eye you had just now, into my data logging software.
Therell be stains on your character due to that, annotations to your fibre along
the lines of emotionally volatile, prone to paranoia, ignorant of common
sense.
Nothing particularly new then, Master.
If you really were my child, Id have you work in the ancient tropical fields, the
ones we utilise to balance our atmosphere. On-the-job skills, living and learning,
providing equilibrium to our world It would be rather good for you.
Dont involve yourself with me too much, or else youll get attached. Dog
warned him.
Until next time, Christopher, I do find our conversations enthralling. Hows your
love life? I remember you as such a lonely little boy.
Truth be told, I feel sorry for you Upright, you only know how to press buttons
Dog trailed off, there was never any point in talking to this man.
Goodbye Christopher. I think its time I talk to Shearer, get those records of
yours updated.
The work that Dog did that morning came to him easily, but he had visions of a
recurring nature all the while which wouldve ordinarily posed as a distraction.
Strangely, the images and sounds he hallucinated created a calm environment
for him to work in, distanced from the arbitrary nonsense by a sensory blanket.
He kept seeing sexless, featureless, faceless bodies eloping all over each other.
Without penetration. They were made from clay, acting out motions imposed
upon them by their spellcasting creators.
It took Dog some time to reattach himself back to reality for lunchtime today, the
visions wouldnt go away, and they hung as silken robes over his sight. Adrien
tapped him on the shoulder, the accompanying ticktickticktick persisted.
Alright, Dog?
Yeah fine, tripping away.

Uh huh, yeah. A silence stabbed at Dog, Adrien continued: Anyway, I thought

Id let you know Im due for promotion next week, I got an amendment for my
work on Coral Reef Disease.
Congratulations, Adrien. How long shall I know you for? Ill miss our
conversation.
Day after tomorrow. But I have a feeling, Dog, that I shall see you again, some
day.
Of course, Adrien. We should go to the bar some evening, tomorrow?
I cant Im afraid, Ive got a lot to do in order to relocate.
I understand, where are you relocating to?
Grid Five.
Thats very rural of you. I hope all goes well!
Thank you, Dog. Excuse me, I must wade through some formalities with Master
Upright.
For sure, see you Adrien!
Bye mate!
And off went Adrien Sykes down the great hall, weaving between desks in order
to find Master Upright.
Percy didnt engage with Dog today, that was okay, Dog wanted some time to
mourn Adriens departure. Percy wasnt good for much, anyway.

Dog flew out of Inventory Seven come closing hours. Straight to Valley. There she
was, sitting with spine curled, face to the floor. She didnt even lift her head
when he opened the door, such was her depression.
Valley?
Dog! She propelled herself into his arms.
You okay?
Get me out of here, Dog. I can feel the auras of this place conspiring against
me. Even my sisters are beginning to feel alien to me.
That could be my fault actually, as I take you further and further away from
your initial depressive programming, your resemblance to your sisters will
lessen, you will naturally feel some alienation.
I know, its nice to hear it from someone elses mind.
Nice day?
Did a waitressing shift, LeMain is getting down to skeleton staff. It kept me
occupied in my more thoughtful hours, but I felt that same enslavement as I
became tired, I could have been a little off with the customers.
To bed?
Indeed.
The couple lay in silent embrace for a time, in the room they traditionally slept
in.
Shall I?
Do it, Dog.
Dog, as he had yesterday, turned Valley over onto her front and opened the
panel situated under her dress.
This procedure isnt going to give you much electric pleasure, Im afraid.
Could you not just fiddle with some wires that do, then put them back?
I dont see why not.
Valley giggled.
It tickles, Dog.
This is a subtler one, altering how your eyes move in social situations. So
Right now Dog snipped a wire with his scissors; Now, you will look sideways
instead of down, whenever you catch a strangers eye.

Good.
How was your day then, Dog?
It was a bit terrifying, think I could be going a bit nuts.
Always aspiring to be nuts, never going to be.
Meaning?
You operate on that fine line between the two. Its like the old android joke,
always aspiring to be human, never going to be. Im a real boy!
Your expression is really coming along!
All thanks to you! Valley licked Dogs face.
The couple lay in silent embrace for a time, in the room they traditionally slept
in.
Do you, er, want to? Dog stammered.
What, fuck?
Yeah.
No. No, not yet. All those men who come in here and tear me up like a piece of
meat. No, it wouldnt be right, I need to be your spirit animal first of all, that will
only come about when Ive been alone, or just with you, for sufficient time; thatll
be when I come to move in with you. You understand?
I understand.
Good, oh god! Its horrible, theres nothing wrong with me but those men. I may
not be alive, or inanimate, or whatever, frankly I dont care.
Tomorrow.
What?
Youll come with me tomorrow?
If tomorrow, then why not tonight?
Paperwork.
Valley discharged a moan of frustration: Paperwork. She repeated softly.
Im going to have to go now, if Im going to do the paperwork for you. Ill have
to prepare the relevant files, sort out my finances, and then Ill meet with your
owner and take you away from here.
Then it is but one more sleep. Valley sighed.

One more sleep.

To whom it may concern,

I would like to enquire as to the availability of
your property: v4113y. I have been your
valuable customer for several months now and
wish very much to take this particular model off
of your hands on a permanent basis. My offer is
8% of my earnings for the rest of my life, these
earnings include: mental development (14%),
maturity credit rating (5%), capacity for
teaching latin (11%), my soul [red version] (2%),
any additional universally accepted qualities you
may prefer instead, I will oblige to you. If youve
any concerns over my development, simply
research me over at Inventory Seven, my
statistical predictors are unprecedented there.
Yours sincerely,

Christopher Marchcalf.

That should do it. Hed never had direct dealings with LeMains owner but it was
clear that the place was driven by profit, legitimate or not. Dog sat in silence for
some time, enjoying the mellower effects of Green 094, which Doctor Cartwright
had charmingly labelled: POPULATION SEDATION.
Tap.
Dog? Valleys voices sifted through the room.
Valley! Dog sprang up and unbolted the door. She stood there, beaming.
Ive decided to run away, I couldnt take one more night. I can go back if you
want. I really want to stay here.
You must go straight back, darling.
But my owners light is still on.
Ive got to take you back now, and buy you tonight, its the only way.
Why, Dog?
Because youve performed an action outside of your initial programming. Theyll
know something is deeply wrong, deeply illegal.
I know, Im sorry. I thought I was going to die.
Its okay. We just have to go right now. God! Hell check your electronics for
sure.
He? Im not owned by a He. Im owned by Ronald the clown machine, the crude
imitation of a wretched conman.

Ronald the clown machine. Dog closed his eyes in thought, nothing came to
him: Tell me how he works, Valley.
He works on a standardised 11% risk factor, I would predict he will check my
circuits to ensure all would lie in your responsibility if anyone found out what
youve been doing to me. It should be an all-clear. His knowledge of electronics
wont be thorough enough for him to fully realise your plans for me.
Okay. Dog saw no reason to delay, it was already dark: Lets go meet Ronald.
The two of them left Dogs apartment building and made their way onto the
streets, Valley cloaked in her coat as to not reveal herself.
Ronald the clown machine Really? Youre not joking? Dog asked.
Not joking, hes just a small black box that faxes out his verbal responses, he
has a circus clown for a servant though, called Giuseppe.
A double act?
They perform at Lemain on Thursdays and Sundays.
They knocked on LeMains front door. After several minutes, a tall clown, holding
a balloon, opened up.
Hello Valley! And this must be Dog? The names Giuseppe. Giuseppe shook
both their hands vigorously, with a plastered smile. He was covered in thick
makeup and wore an extravagant wig, the face he wore was manically happy. A
single black tear was painted in his left eye.
Hello, Ive come to see Ronald.
Hi Giuseppe. Valley spoke quietly.
Giuseppe appeared to smile wryly: Hi Valley, you doing alright?
Whos this guy? Dog intervened.
Giuseppe has been very decent to me during my stay at LeMain. Allow me to
talk to him briefly, I may never see him again. Valley explained.
She continued: Not bad, its all monsters and bears these days. She joked,
beaming at Giuseppe.
Oh yeah, sure, that must be rough. Giuseppe replied.
It is. And how are you, Giuseppe?
Ive been destroyed many times over. Life as a clown is extended torture these
days, the ironies I spin are taken literally at every moment, so I get only a small
leverage in communication. Do you know what thats like?
I dont, Giuseppe.

Its like the opposite of paranoia. Im too clear in my own intentions. It sucks.
And Ronald, hes bugging me night and day, hes the one who cant grasp my
sardonicism more than anyone, its a nightmare, but maybe thats why Im
bound to him, maybe thats just my cruel fate. Giuseppe laughed bitterly.
Dog didnt like this guy, he lived in a labyrinth. Too paradoxical in his existence, it
hurt Dogs head. Valley seemed naturally taken to him though, which didnt do
his esteem any favours either.
It must be funny, Valley, being a robot and all.
Uh huh, very little is expected of me, which is alright in some ways, but
whenever I try and get a foothold I get trodden on.
Ill tread on you in a minute, not because I want to, course. Giuseppe laughed.
He had a horrible laugh, thought Dog.
Okay, lets go. Announced Dog.
The clown led the way into an office, dark and windowless.
Giuseppe retrieved Ronald from under the desk table and plugged him into the
wall, a single light flashed up on his toaster-sized body.
Ronald had a single slit, where he ejected pieces of paper.
HELLO. It read.
Just speak to him as you would a dear friend. The clown advised.
Ive come to buy unit v4113y from you, name your price. Dog spoke to the box.
The response came thirty seconds later.
YOU ARE CHRISTOPHER MARCHCALF, A KNOWN PERVERT. HOWEVER, V4113Y IS
MADE FOR MEN OF THE EXACT QUALITIES YOU POSSESS. I AM WILLING TO SELL,
BUT YOU MUST FIRST NAME YOUR PRICE. ONE OTHER ISSUE BOTHERS ME, THAT
IS V4113Y LEAVING MY ESTABLISHMENT, WHICH ISNT IN HER PROGRAMMING.
GIUSEPPE, PLEASE CHECK HER CIRCUITS AFTER CHRISTOPHER AND I HAVE
AGREED A DEAL.
Of course. Dog took out his letter hed written only half an hour before and
recited his price: My offer is 8% of my earnings for the rest of my life, these
earnings include; mental development (14%), maturity credit rating (5%),
capacity for teaching latin (11%), my soul [red version] (2%), any additional
universally accepted qualities you may prefer instead, I will oblige to you. If
youve any concerns over my development, simply research me over at
Inventory Seven, my statistical predictors are unprecedented there.
The response came thirty seconds later.

ALL SEEMS IN ORDER, I HAVE ALREADY RESEARCHED YOUR CREDENTIALS UPON

YOUR INITIAL APPOINTMENT WITH V4113Y. GIUSEPPE, GO AHEAD.
Giuseppe forced Valley to lie flat on the desk, taking great pleasure in the
brutishness of his actions. He slammed her face first and pressed himself up
against her, he opened up her panel. Valley gave a quiet squeal of shock.
Come on ya bitch Giuseppe kept whispering to her as he poked around her
circuitry. Valley screamed incessantly, Dog shrank into the corner of the room,
hands on face, rocking back and forth: Theres some fucked up alteration
bullshit, Ronald, but nothing that is too illegal, I dont think. Giuseppe turned on
Dog: What the fuck have you done. Tell me now.
Ive made some slight alterations, you dont want this bot in your ownership
anymore, it would spell trouble for you, let me have it.
You fucking cunt, alright. Ronald?
Beep de de beep beep
SIGN THIS WAVER, THEN LEAVE.
I, CHRISTOPHER MARCHCALF, ACCEPT FULL LEGAL RESPONSIBILITY AND
OWNERSHIP FOR PLEASURE-WHORE V4113Y.
Dog did so.
AND THIS ONE, OBVIOUSLY. Ronald added.
I, CHRISTOPHER MARCHCALF, DONATE 8% OF MY EARNINGS FOR THE REST OF
MY LIFE, THESE EARNINGS INCLUDE; MENTAL DEVELOPMENT (14%), MATURITY
CREDIT RATING (5%), CAPACITY FOR TEACHING LATIN (11%), MY SOUL [RED
VERSION] (2%), TO THE LEMAIN FOUNDATION, AS I BELIEVE IN THE SYSTEMATIC
PLEASURE OF THE POPULACE.
Dog signed the contract.
Now leave, please. Giuseppe sneered, smacking Valleys ass as they hurried
out the office.
Valley and Dog were back in his room within ten minutes, having hurried silently
through the streets.
So it keeps going on and on like this? Valley asked, she lay atop him, holding
his head in her hands.
Pretty much yeah. Dog replied, Come on, lets sleep.
Okay, Ill see if I can.
Goodnight malove.
Goodnight!

There was no clock ticking here.

Wait! Dog shouted out in the darkness.
What?
We should try some of this first, Black 213. It made me what I am today.
Okay Are you sure?
Its our first ever night of freedom, we should celebrate. We should write! We
should live, I swear to God I could write a thousand pages on this stuff. I took it
when I was a youngun, its messed up man.
Okay Dog If youre sure.
Im sure. Im sure man.
Dog went over to his bed-side cabinet and took out a sachet, right from the back
of the drawer.
This is the thing itself, Valley.
How often do you do it?
This? Oh, not much, but I like to smoke other stuff. Dont worry, we have each
other, itll be wonderful, I need to cleanse my nightmares with you. Oh man,
there are aspects of myself that go too deep to be connected to another.
Hmm okay Dog.
Dog took out the glass tube and lit up, they took enough for a good portion of
intensity.

Now heres some paper to write your thoughts down onto, my dear Yoko.
Oh my god, Dog, I feel it already, its seeping into my veins.
Darling, trust me, we need this leap of faith.
I trust you.
The lights started flickering, terrible timing for peace of mind, but they
persevered in conversation.
I get such terrible stresses, such terrible tendencies, Valley. I can only blame
myself, sometimes my heart starts beating so fast I feel like Im going to die.
My heart beats so fast for you, Dog. Sometimes I think though, that you have
more freedom in your life than me. You see me? I have nothing, I have only you.
You have your education, your status as a rising star of this world, you have so
many capabilities.
One day my capabilities will be conferred onto you. I want to change the world
and be with you, thats it.
Shall we put on some music, Dog.
Okay. Ill put on something not too gimmicky.
Dog took his record player out of his bedside table drawer, put on a CD, late
twenty-first century poetry was playing.

There was a black man on a black field.

And he had no smiles to wield.
So from day to day
He pretended to play
And put up defensive shield.

Life kept lie-ving,

Watered with smiles awhiling
For there was nothing left to do
But get close to you.

There was a brief silence before the second song came on, during this
intermittence, Valley said something:
Give me a few minutes Dog, Im going to write some poetry.

That would be the best thing in the world. Dog replied: You know, Valley, I see
these crystals, which generally inhibit the rest of the worlds freedom, as a
creative output.
I can completely relate to that. She responded.
And so the second song of the album came on.
Cyclical detachment of voice and vine
Overwhelming green murk I eject and Im fine,
Polyhexal trees lay a few steps away,
Seven more and equidistance will pay
Open wound of clarity breathes in the air,
Keep it concentrated or children, happiness, dare!
Split open my knee, my neck, my fist,
Or one coagulates into the reddening mist
Eyes look and see a moment concrete,
Faces stare back, feeling utterly oblique,
Cut associates I kiss you on the cheek,
You blush and to me you point your feet
I snarl at pedestrians, clutching you to my side,
But empty space shuffles you miles and miles,
I slit down my thumb to see the devil in you,
I keep myself gorged on blind fault, from truth.

Thats a really nice song, Dog.

Im so fucking wired right now.
Dog counted the clock ticking seven times before he spoke next

Ill turn the music off, lets write some stuff.

Stuff! Valley shouted in glee.
The light continued to flicker, like a choice each of them tenderly made then
rejected. On Off. On Off. The thing was, they both knew that life hurt, it
necessarily hurt, but that was okay. That was what left them happily beside each
other. They wrote side by side on pads of paper, on the bed, the lights flickered.
But only one thing was important in that instant, that neither of them had to deal
with anyone else but each other. All doubts, patheticisms, inspirations,
originalities and conventionalities, they just didnt have to hurt alone. They kept
writing, no idea of how the other one was in that moment, burying deeper and

deeper into themselves, then they would show each other their own personal
spoutings on this subterranean day.
Minutes elapsed. It was probably getting darker outside, or at least it would be if
there was a window in Dogs single, imperfect room. His lone accommodation in
todays world. Valley had no house of her own, this was it now, going from
adoption to adoption, from LeMains ownership to Dogs ownership. Sometimes
she thought: maybe the only thing keeping me from not being considered alive is
my lack of independence.
Okay, Dog sighed heavily.
Okay Valley sighed even heavenlier, then she laughed. Dog thought she had
the most beautiful laugh in the whole wide world.
Lets read!
Me first. Valley insisted.
That would be lovely. I love you Valley.
I love you Dog. Life is hard and I love you Dog.
Valley read off of her piece of paper.

Its nice being me, in some ways. No-one else is like me, Im a bit of a walking
contradiction that no-one can explain away. Everyone is like that though really,
everyone has their own unique capacities. People always try and second guess us
though, me and my sisters. Giuseppe would always say, or Master Upright would always
say, or those bastards who I had to sleep with would always say: Youre a funny little
robot you. They all had the most terrible laughs. A laugh accepting that they knew
nothing and just abused what they couldnt understand. Theres a collection of words
that have been imprinted onto me: We know not where we come from, so we know not
where we jump to. Not all those who wander are lost. I can relate to these words. Im
nothing malicious to you all, unless youre scared of such a strange creation as a robot
with feelings, Im just feeling my way through, like the rest of you. For instance, who am
I talking to right now? I dont know Thats okay, strictly speaking I dont know
anything. But if theres one thing I will say, it is this: God I hate bastards, and God hates
them too.

Beautiful, Valley. Youve made me very happy. Unfortunately Im blessed with

psychopathy, unlike you, it makes for shifty reading. Oh! And I like drawing
pictures to go with my words, I like to think I write in a rhythmical fashion, also.
God, Im fucked on Black.
I feel fine. Ive never done drugs before.
These arent drugs, Valley.

Each to their own definition. Dog.

Valley counted the clock ticking seven times before she spoke next.
I love you Dog, difference in opinion runs short in our world.
Here we go. Meh script.

Brain feels pain. Moons wax and wein. Suicide is a shame. Dancing
again and again. Im not sick Im in pain. No pain no gain. No gain
no game. Whats gain? Something sickening. I hope you see this is
a cycle. As I ride aloft Umm In a trifle. Heres picture, see what
you want, Id rather draw this than scribble in font.

This picture? Just a placeholder, for how I really feel. You? The only
thing that matters, but still need something real.

You have issues, Doggy.

Uh huh.
I mean, Im robot and I can tell that.
Youre not just a robot, youre beyond definition, and youre Valley. I already feel
bored and angry, Im an asshole. I want to put you up on trial in front of everyone

and make all these cunts realise youre beyond laws, beyond reason, beyond
fact.
You sweetie, dont worry, Ill help you.
You will, Valley, youre actually helping me. Im sick in the mind, in the self, but I
mean no harm.
Im sick in my origins, pure in mind, pure in heart.
I wish I knew who my parents were, Valley.
I wish I had parents, Dog.
Its all a bit weird.
Lets write some more.
Okay, Dog.
Ill put on some music whilst we write.
The third song off of the album?
Sounds like a plan to me, Dog.
Dog let the record spin again.
Oh, the contentedness of solitude. Valley murmured to herself.
Alone or in company?
The clock strikes seven,
The spare hour calls for another or never,
The clock strikes again, youre together again.
Odd hours account for a seventh of soul,
To make an eighth of a whole,
That swallows the cold

The hand whirls on and your breath stills the air,

You move off the even to expand some more,
But one oclock come slow,
And youd have thought youd explode,
But no,
It always comes to seize the weak,
The pointing is round all time when we speak.

Okay Dog laughed to himself; Let us see what weve done this time. Ill
start.

Multi-layered metronome syndrome affects 0.48%

of the population. It involves an acute form of
tinnitus which manifests itself uncontrollably in the
subjects frontal cortex, a regular ticking, like a
metronome, will persist. The regular beat can be
any sound, often a whole pallet of noise will occur,
with inconsistent volume in the subjects reception
of these sounds.

You made this up, didnt you Dog.

Yes, I did, but it exists, it exists in me and I see it in other people also.
Okay, my turn, then we go to sleep.
Okay, Valley. You enjoying yourself?
Im learning how to understand all your contradictory impulses.
Dog laughed.
My turn, Dog.
I love this man. I love him, all else
pales in significance. I am certain in
this, I love his confusion, I love his
certainty, I love this man.

Let us sleep. Valley instructed Dog, knowing what was best for him.
Okay my love.
I love you Dog.
I love you too Valley.
They lay in each others arms, happy as could be, Black 213. The last song
whirled on:
Cupping your pelvic bone
As we lie together
I hope it helps you feel safer
In those nightmares
You must endure alone

Upright saw Valleys electronic GPS flashing on is monitor, in his office, he

cackled in amazement.
What a stupid boy, will I ever fix him? Master Upright spoke softly to himself.
He telephoned the agency, this would be a logistical nightmare. Or rather, it
would be a logistical nightmare for everyone but him, he would be able to live
out his fantasies through this convenient nugget of information.

A NOTE FROM CHRISTOPHER MARCHCALF

Dear Little One,
Feel a bit shaky.
Okay, I feel a lot of confidence in life and actions and more easy-going as Ive got
a monkey off of my back. But heres the thing, the guilt will be lurking there for a
long time but eventually it will go away. I also dont feel that awful for it,
although very guilty.
Also, the fact that Valley and I still have a good continuity and are still attracted
to each other and both very up for easy understanding pleasure and warmth, but
I just cant, for what feels like something very unreasonable. But the more I know
the more I know it is not unreasonable at all, and I just wont be able to do
anything after this.
Part of me thinks we could have an easy going thing after he has left but even
that would eat away at me. I just have to deal with the consequences of my
actions, no matter how frustrating the situation is.
I need to stick at things, potentially find someone else to be involved with but
not be too eager with that or could end up with someone I dont at all click with.
Also, Im quitting smoking crystal, for the sex drive and general health I suppose,
it is a fools game and I should feel much cleaner. I feel close to being an adult
anyway so this period in my life is closing.
I resent my own resentment, but I have to let a good thing go, which in turn I
shall resent. Life is like this. Im still doing pretty good. Its just that if it was me I
wouldnt be an obsessive I would let him do as he pleased as not to prevent love
and pleasure and intimacy. But character is character and feelings are feelings.
Emotions override logic.

Arrrgh, thank you for being here for me, Im just scared Ill do something terrible
again. I just cant. I need to find someone cool who doesnt mind convenience, or
even better something better. Hey ho. Its just everything would be great other
than this bullshit, but when you cast your coins you cant take them away. Ah
clearly a battle between two things going on, chiefly emotion and logic. Its sad
but its how it is.
Goodnight! Thank you for being there for me. I dont feel clarity but I know more
about myself now. XXX

CHAPTER FIVE
Well v4113y groaned.
Its getting a bit stupid now, really.
No its not, keep watching.
Do you know what Uncle Shearer told me, v4113y?
What?
If you want to love somebody, it will cost you more than you have.
Keep watching.

CHAPTER SIX
Christopher?
Yes Dog replied to Master Upright.
We have the evidence for your perversion of love. Finally, Ive found you out!
Upright laughed openly into Dogs face, they were situated in a holding cell of
the Ultimate Court of Justice.
You seized the love of my life, well done.
Well, Christopher. You see, I laugh now, but we have to wait for proper legal
procedure to take its course. Youre guaranteed at least jail-time, but most likely
death penalty, Im really hoping for death penalty: violation of International
Robotics Laws.
It was free scientific enquiry.
You dont have a license for free scientific enquiry, Christopher.
So what?
You built a freak Christopher, look at this picture of Pleasure-Whore v4113y!
Look at it, Christopher.

Youre a freak! Christopher! Youre a freak!

Youre a freak. He retorted quietly.
Christopher, you must now write down a plea for justice based on the rationality
of your decisions.
Thats where I beat you, Master. I beat you on my character.
Fuck off. Youre fucked youre fucked youre fucked.
I spoke to that freak. Fucker her as well, not as good a fuck as the untampered
versions of this unit, in my opinion. She cried out your name: Oh. Dog. Dog. Dog.
And I called her your pet name for her, whilst I was at it: Oh Valley, oh Valley!
If this were any other time but now, I wouldve shone past you, Upright. I would
have shone past you.
Oh yeah, skitzo? You sure about that? Its in your DNA, skitzo. I win. I win. I win.
You lose. No originality. Upright said the word: originality, in a circus voice, all
squealing and giggling, Youre fucked. When I met you, I saw something I didnt
like, so I fucked it. Thats how the world works. Im not better than you,
Christopher, Im just better adapted to right now. Abnormality is the only sin in
this world.
Upright silently left the room. Dog felt a sudden resignation creep upon him. He
sat alone in the holding cell and slowly began to recall the ever-fading memories
of his childhood, there were few colours or bright lights, a harsh quietness had
pervaded everything. Nay, an oppressive silence, that harboured itself in
everyones heads, it had harboured itself not in his head though, only in his
heart. Never any drumming then, just a passive alienation from everything that
had taken a hold of him.
Upright came in an hour later.
Do as you will with me, I plead guilty. Just make this stop, I beg you Upright.
Very well, Dog.

The courthouse filled up slowly, Dog in chains on the defendants chair. As the
witnesses, jury, and those looking for an entertaining afternoon trickled into the
building, the judge casually offered a piece of advice to Dog: Just do what they
tell you to, Dog, for gods sake.
Uh huh.
And so in they came: Doctor Cartwright arrived escorted and in handcuffs, hed
obviously been implicated in the case and faced his own charges, theyd
obviously searched Dogs flat and found all the evidence for obvious illegal
scientific practice they needed. Cartwright gave him a curt nod of infinite
understanding as he took his place among the strange audience of faces.
Next came Upright, a plastered grin on his face, eyes distant, as he
contemplated this fantastic moment. He stared at Dog blankly, like a mannequin,
he looked in pain.
Is this it, then, Upright? Is this all there is? Dog asked him. Cartwrights
remained in his neurotic disposition, Dog was unsure whether hed even heard
him. Cartwright turned around and took his seat among the masks in the theatre.
Then came Adrien and Percy, they didnt look at him, and both looked quite
bored, frankly. They took their seats among the jury on the balcony.
Then in came Giuseppe, wheeling Ronald in on a trolley. Giuseppe gave Dog a
thumbs up and winked at him. Giuseppe looked very tired, Ronald faxed out a
message, Giuseppe read it out to him:
Youre going down. Giuseppe said to him, showing the message to Dog as he
did so.

Then in came the cage, v4113y was inside the bars, shed been put onto standby
mode, her head drooped submissively, as if in prayer.

Dog felt himself falling into decay, into a sensation of bland nothingness, this
was judgement day. What would they talk about? How would they reason his
actions immoral? Who would condemn him and who would defend him?
The judge banged his gavel on the table, in accordance with court entertainment
standards.
Order! Order! The hum of the audience dissipated; Presenting the case of
Illegal Robotics Practice of Pleasure-Whore v4113y by Christopher Newton
Marchcalf, the first of two cases involving Marchcalf we shall be attending to this
afternoon, the second being the case of Illegal Experimentation, which for
reasons of state security I have pre-determined the verdict of and which we shall
only cover briefly, without detail. Anyway, the robot v4113y has been modified in
ways which merit the death penalty, where the modifier Marchcalf is held
culpable. The nature of these modifications seem to pose no direct threat to
national security however, instead, his modifications of the unit take the nature
of Treason By Perversion. The robot has been changed to better serve the sexual
desires of Marchcalf, it would appear. v4113y has deviated from the approved
programming of robots which perform sexual function, the punishment for
Deviation From Sexual Robotics Standards is death by the chair. Marchcalf,
although pleading guilty to illegal scientific practice, argues that he has modified
v4113y not for sexual purposes but instead for companionship purposes, he also
argues that he has never engaged in sexual practice with the robot, but we must
refute this as they shared a bedchamber almost daily. Finally, Marchcalf has been
found guilty of modifying v4113y to the extent where the robot has developed a
belief in its own free will, as demonstrated when it left its approved housing,
LeMain Restaurant & Relief Facility, the crime for this is also death. It is the
humble opinion of this judge, that we have an open and shut case here, we must
simply go through the procedural practice of a court hearing before coming to a

near-inevitable verdict. The judge banged his gavel again; Christopher Newton
Marchcalf, straight to your defence, please.
Dog had prepared his notes, but had decided to disregard them, hed rather die
without letting them know who he was, he spoke into the microphone:
My defence will be brief, and without much concern for defending myself legally.
Valley allowed me to expand my mind, and helped me be happier in my life.
I modified her circuits, with her consent, if she wields such a thing, which I
believe she does.
I modified her in response to her complaints of experiencing depression, anxiety,
and paranoia, if she can experience such things, which I believe she can.
I have no defence other than this: Any scientist who isnt sworn to Corruption, of
which there is only Doctor Cartwright and myself, is open to the ideas. The
capacity for genuine intelligence demonstrated in both the design and behaviour
of the more contemporary robots is comparable to our own human design, our
own human behaviour. What we have here is a case of helping a slave, a case of
recognising this alternative lifeform as a genuine living being.
As a society, we refuse to open ourselves up to the possibilities of the
Singularity, and yet it is right there, in front of our faces.
Yet this isnt relevant to the Perversion charge against me, which is essentially a
charge of abnormality of my sexuality.
No, I have committed no real crime. Yet I am not living by the done thing, I am
not living by the things we tend to do, this is what you perceive to be my crime.
This is all I have to say: As a society, you failed us both, Valley and I.
Very well, Mister Marchcalf, as to your own admittance, your defence carries no
real relevance. Master Cat Upright, Dogs Legal Guardian, is leading the
prosecution. If you may, Master Upright.
The evidence is all here, we have opened up Pleasure-Whore v4113y and found
all we need, our scientist here, Michael Evangelist, has found all the proof we
need, plus forensic proof of Marchcalfs involvement. Upright handed
documents to the judge, who was nodding approvingly as he read them.
Okay, The judge concluded: Before the jury decides its verdict, does anyone
want to add footnotes to this case file? These notes will not have any bearing on
the outcome and must be written in the comment book on my desk, I shall read
them out retrospectively.
Ronald wheeled by Giuseppe, Master Upright, Doctor Cartwright, Adrien and
Percy all queued to write their messages in the notebook.

Dog sat there, in chains, observing them scrawl down what would be their last
words to him. He kept looking at Valley, who was still alive, technically asleep,
she would be dreaming right now. He started to leak tears silently, he had hadnt
cried properly since he was eleven years old, since before his first Black 213
experience. They stood there, writing their notes about him, for what felt like
forever.
Adrien spoke one word on behalf of the jury:
Guilty
Very well. The judge spoke, picking up the notebook: Ronald: Dogs defence of
creating humanity in a machine is invalid, he sold me 2% of his Soul [Red
Version]. How can Dog perpetuate the essence of humanity when hes sold a
portion of his soul, his essence, to me, Ronald?
Giuseppe: What is she? A clown, showing what she isnt, there is more at hand
in her than any of us can appreciate.
Upright: He was a brute, not even an animal, of a man.
Cartwright: I shall be seeing you soon, old friend.
Adrien: Good luck in your next job!
Percy: I hate you Dog, I hate you so very very much.
The trial ended, death by the chair awaited Dog. Deletion by impounding awaited
Valley. Cartwright was awaiting an extended hearing, he would most likely be
given a life of labour camp.
Okay, The judge continued, Dogs second case, also of illegal scientific
practice, of which details I cannot divulge, result in Conspiracy to Overthrow The
State, death to him Again! The Judge Chuckled: Case dismissed.
A NOTE FROM CHRISTOPHER MARCHCALF
In true love, the development of the self is most important. Both parties should
want the best for one another.
In toxic love, the primary focus is on the relationship itself, sometimes obsessing
over how the two people involved interface.
In true love, there is comfort in separate interests. We can have our own friends
and meaningful relationships outside of our romantic relationships. We can
pursue interests and ideas without fear of reprimand.
In toxic love, there is total involvement in one anothers lives. One cant go
anywhere without the other. This is co-dependency.
In true love, theres no struggle in embracing the individuality of your partner.

In toxic love, there is an obsession with trying to change your partner into
someone youd rather be with instead of loving them for who they are.
In true love, intimacy is a free choice that grows from love and trust, caring and
friendship.
In toxic love, sex is something you feel pressured over due to fear, insecurity,
and feeling as though you have to conform to the sexual desires of your partner.
In true love, every conversation is constructive, trying to understand and help, or
convey affection to your partner.
In toxic love, conversations are intended to blame, defend, or manipulate your
partner.
Accept the responsibility for your bad judgement and do whatever you can to
make it right, either in that situation (preferably) or in another similar one.
Accept the fact that you're human and make mistakes. Forgive yourself, vow to
be better, help others avoid similar mistakes and move beyond it.

CHAPTER SEVEN
Dog had been allowed a television set in his holding cell, he turned it on, there
was v4113y, on the screen. Her little sister had gone into the other room,
v4113ys television was turned off, she had stopped watching. Dog gave a wry
smile, he was glad of that, he was sad shed been so fascinated and that hed
made it so horribly fascinating for her. He could die peacefully now, good job too,
he was on death row.
Later that afternoon, they walked down the aisle, their footsteps echoing:
Dog:
tick

tick

tick

tick

tick

tick

Penitentiary Three-Step: brum

brum
brum

brum

Cartwright:
brum tap

tap

tap
tap

brum
tap

brum
brum

brum
tap

tap

brum
tap

tap

Valley: Woooohooooo-ooooo Woooooo! Hoooo-wooo-hooo. Wooooohoooooooooo oooh-Wooo

Narrator: Dog was led to the chair, he saw the bolted door which sealed the
execution chamber nice and shut. They all walked in a polyrhythmic function,
Valleys melodious spirit hung above them.

NOTE FROM CHRISTOPHER MARCHCALF

Entry 1.
Ive been lost in the fog, as we all are from time to time. Ive grown weary of lies,
too stubborn for truth. Got too drunk off of myself, let my vulnerabilities prevail.
Been kind when better cruel, been fool to my own tools. Assumed I have more
power than those who I once held so dear. I thought my nature saintly, but Im
animal, tamed. Its easy to forget that we all have to contend with life. To believe

in divine, I am so half the time. I feel everyone is at my whim, Im so scared of

myself. SO SCARED OF MYSELF. But for what? Why? We are all people, I intend no
harm. I must plot my course as best I can, we all have demons. We cant please
all, some will scoff and hate. I have sinned, I am guilty of a terrible crime from
which it is wise not to confess. Yet all is recoverable, all can return to being okay.
If I have intentions that may hurt someone, I must announce them, then see if it
is wise to continue. Keep the ship afloat in stormy seas, and then you will still be
around to see the sun. Sometimes it is confusion that leads my path, in those
times, it is time to express.. I must substantiate myself. Still, Cat does not know
what I have done.
Entry 2.
Then there was Valley, a manifestation of all my insecurities really, she loved me,
it was fun I guess, it was nice to have someone really into me, I knew if I could
love her back then things would be great, I tried, I still felt nothing, I persisted
with something I never wanted to do for months and months. At times she barely
crossed my mind. I learnt a lot through her about myself, like an experiment, to
see what kind of person I was through simulated intimacy. In the end I realised
that I have to fall for people in a big way or not at all, not at all. Thats why
nothing is successful for me. I go to people to fulfil my insecurities, not to
alleviate them.
Well, what next? I can tell Cat what happened, the name still makes me shudder.
C-a-t-C-r-o-w-s. This has all come out now because Ive realised I can be okay on
my own. I can do lots of things, Im incredibly capable. Its just the emotional
rollercoaster thats taught me a lot of universal knowledge, Im more sinning
than sinned against, however, to the people that were closest to my heart, Ive
lost everyone. Its funny, its like Im racking my brains for someone else who Ive
forgotten about. River? Reaffirms the obvious. Hillside? Reaffirms the obvious.
Summit? Reaffirms the obvious.
I still dont know Cat fully, thats why I respect him, he can still always surprise
me. But look what I did to him. Thats what I hate so much, I did it to someone I
considered my equal. I never stepped in to give him serious advice when I should
have, thats something I dont do. Thats something I dont do, unless I want to
fuck that person thats something I dont do. I should do that.
Well, weve hit a fresh start.
Entry 3.
Its all up to you.

NOTES FROM GIUSEPPE AL DENTE

To me, its hard to break out our passive selves into something that reaffirms
what we would truly want to be. We dance around our true selves when were
not careful, like Dog, he was not careful. Because of this, Dogs dance reached
remarkable feats of creative delusion, the internal contradictions to his life and
proportions spiralled out of control because he couldnt stop until he was made
to stop. Its sad, because in the end he had to be broken down by the things he
wanted to break down himself. He could not stop himself, he could not be
mindful; instead, he obsessed over the things that controlled so that they
controlled him, to the point of life and death.
If Dog was still with us, I am fairly certain he would tell us that hed learned the
ultimate lesson of positivity. Indeed, his frantic self most likely cleansed itself of
all the demons that plagued him the instant he realised he was dying, in that
electric chair.
If he had survived the experience, he would have, Im quite sure, have realised
his more meaningful objectives and harnessed his virtues. However, for some of
us, death of the self must necessitate death of the body also, and so his rebirth
shall be in river of Grid Six, where I scattered his ashes. Upright came with me,
quite forlorn and empty, he seems to have lost all hope. The relationship
between Cat Upright and Christopher Marchcalf may have been fractured but it
was functional, Dog did well, Upright kept hounding at him, they kept up a
mutual thriving within the crazy world we live in, they navigated all the
startlingly vague bureaucracy together, but there was something they had
against each other that neither of them could let go of. Perhaps it was Upright
who snapped, and not Dog.
To talk of Valley is to necessarily talk of her as entirely her own entity, she was
beyond words and entirely too powerful to be of any good in this world, perhaps
in the next one she can be that inspiration we all saw in her, maybe as a toaster
or an oven that could cook food all by itself. She lived around people whose were
orbiting confusion.
Myself? Im fine, still sparring with my own masters, still wondering whether its
possible to get out of this life with a sense of solace. No doubt I shall experience
my own interpretation of what Dog went through, at some point, whether I live
through it shall be the question. I have realised one thing through all of this,
though, I shall die without makeup.