CHAPTER FOURTEEN

                                    

                                          
Fighting exploded into the room; that was his first thought. People yelling, cursing, and disturbing his already restless sleep. The fighting grew more intense, making him wake up and pay attention to it whether he wanted to or not.
            Only when he opened his eyes did Porter realize he was alone in the room. In fact, he was alone except for the big dog-like thing Abriel insisted wasn't a dog, lying at the foot of his bed. Keko. And the fighting... It was all in his head. Literally.
            As soon as he became aware of it, it stopped. The dog-thing...no, shepherd turned to face him. As always, Porter was struck by the creature's eyes. Narrow-slitted and deep-set, the corneas were milky white with no hint of pupil dilation. For all intents and purposes, the creature was blind. Its body was covered in thick black fur, except for its belly which was gold. The snout was longer than he'd ever seen in a dog, and the ears more pointed with tufts of gold fir at the tips. The skull was also larger, presumably indicating greater brain activity. Lastly, the teeth and claws—or maybe he should have considered those first—looked sharper and more savage than anything he'd ever seen in surface breeds. Not even the wolves seeded into the forests could compare. And this creature was a native species? Eos was supposed to have been a lifeless rock when the terraforming engines were set loose to roll across the surface. The mandate had been to create a new world from nothing, not force themselves on an already inhabited planet. Or, had the failure of the cold sleep engines taken that choice away? Stars. What had the original colonists been thinking when they'd first spied this world?
            "Obviously, they weren't."
            "Get out of my mind!" Porter yelled at the dog...creature...it.
            The creature cocked its head, giving a very good impression of gazing down its snout at him. "We've already been over this. My name is Keko, and we'd be on much friendlier terms if you'd stop looking like you wanted to dissect me."
            "Sorry. I didn't mean to... Hell, this is stupid; I'm talking to a dog."
            "Shepherd."
            "The distinction isn't helping right now." Porter let his head fall back into the pillows. It didn't hurt as much as it had day before, or the one before that. Good. He was getting better. Not nanos fast—the cast on his arm and the bandages on his back were evidence enough—but better than regular human speed. He was also well enough to suspect the dog, shepherd, was probably mocking him.
            "I'd prefer it if you'd stop reading my thoughts," he said aloud.
            Porter could almost hear Keko's eyes roll. "Go back to sleep. Maybe when you wake up, we'll all have disappeared and you'll be back wherever you belong."
            "I can't sleep," Porter admitted, letting the jibe go. "I keep hearing voices."
            Keko dipped his head, looking as chagrined as Porter supposed it was possible for him to look. "Abriel's asked me to link her with another shepherd. Between that and our new bond, I'm having trouble keeping track."
            "Shouldn't you be with her?"
            "She prefers I work with you. We think you might need a handler to keep you in check."
            "A handler?" Porter sputtered, indignant. He was Progeny! He hardly needed a—
            "Do they brainwash you where you're from, because you blather about "Progeny" even when you sleep. It's a little worrying. The thoughts of yours I've investigated indicate a society with a hive-like mentality with limited original thought, reporting to an uncaring oligarchy—"