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[18+] “Shell Game” by Kandrel (part 1 of 2)
[18+] Imagine a world of countless, identical business huskies.
Today’s story is the first of two parts of “Shell Game” by Kandrel, who tried to imagine a world of countless identical foxes, but there was too much screaming. Bringing Down Upworld, their most recent delve into dystopia, is available on Furplanet. You can find more of his stories on SoFurry.
Read for you by Rob MacWolf — werewolf hitchhiker.
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https://thevoice.dog/episode/18-shell-game-by-kandrel-part-1-of-2
Transcript
Today's story concerns adult subject matter for mature listeners.
Speaker:If that's not your cup of tea,
Speaker:or there are youngsters listening,
Speaker:please skip this one
Speaker:and come back for another story another time.
Speaker:You’re listening to The Voice of Dog.
Speaker:This is Rob MacWolf, your fellow traveler,
Speaker:and Today’s story is the first of two parts of
Speaker:“Shell Game” by Kandrel,
Speaker:who tried to imagine a world of countless identical foxes,
Speaker:but there was too much screaming.
Speaker:Bringing Down Upworld, their most recent delve into dystopia,
Speaker:is available on Furplanet.
Speaker:You can find more of his stories
Speaker:on SoFurry. Please enjoy
Speaker:“Shell Game” by Kandrel,
Speaker:Part 1 of 2 There were many Markus Broders.
Speaker:Markus Broder (foreman) was the lead engineer at the factory,
Speaker:while Markus Broder (accountant) was his actuary.
Speaker:Markus Broder (spokesman) gave the news every evening on the holovid,
Speaker:while Markus Broder (attorney)
Speaker:covered his ass whenever something he said turned out to be unfortunately lacking in truth.
Speaker:In fact, everyone in Broderville was Markus,
Speaker:each and every one of them the authentic thing.
Speaker:But in all of Broderville,
Speaker:no one was quite as Markus as Markus Broder
Speaker:(no title). He lived in 8 High Street Crescent on the twenty-third floor
Speaker:(counting the mezzanine).
Speaker:His penthouse apartment overlooked the bustling downtown,
Speaker:where countless identical huskies lived and worked.
Speaker:Right now, the view was an acid trip of colors, as blaring neon signs painted the milling sea of cream-white faces
Speaker:and cinnamon-tinted masks.
Speaker:It was as if a rainbow
Speaker:had attended a riotous orgy
Speaker:and dripped itself down
Speaker:onto the waiting Markuses.
Speaker:Above, a motley collection of stars tried in vain to shine their twinkling light down onto the husky-studded streets,
Speaker:but were ultimately drowned in the gaudy display of Broderville’s nightly plumage.
Speaker:Markus—the original Markus
Speaker:—felt hands slide through his thick pelt.
Speaker:In the dark reflection of the body-length window,
Speaker:he could see a muzzle detach itself from the gloom of his room
Speaker:and place itself sensuously on his shoulder.
Speaker:“Come back to bed.”
Speaker:The hands wandered.
Speaker:Various interesting and soft pieces of anatomy fit themselves against his back.
Speaker:“Please? Your puppy is lonely.”
Speaker:He raised his hand and caressed the head resting on his shoulder.
Speaker:He heard a soft whine, and the body against his shuddered.
Speaker:Markus (slave) tugged at his master’s hand,
Speaker:but found its owner
Speaker:immobile. For even though his plaything’s wiles were enticing—and they were
Speaker:—Markus was discontented.
Speaker:Everything was working as it should.
Speaker:The factory at the center of town—manned entirely by himselves—was chugging away and producing product at record rates.
Speaker:Credits were rolling in,
Speaker:and even though not everyone in the city lived well,
Speaker:Broderville was a prosperous place.
Speaker:Definitely things were better here than they were down in Charleston.
Speaker:There’d been fires down there a few months ago,
Speaker:and production had still yet to pick back up.
Speaker:This year had even been better than Anton’s Crossing so far,
Speaker:and they’d won the producer of the year five years running!
Speaker:Markus should have been happy.
Speaker:He wasn’t. Something was calling his name from down there in the chaotic rainbow.
Speaker:Markus could feel it seeping up through the floor of his penthouse,
Speaker:even though it was hundreds of feet from ground level.
Speaker:Markus had been overseer of Broderville for years, and he couldn’t once remember having felt anything quite like it. It was
Speaker:both repellent and attractive at the same time.
Speaker:It was the distant echo of someone whose voice he knew he should recognize. It was the sight of an old friend, long lost to the crowd,
Speaker:glimpsed only for a second.
Speaker:It was a subtle scent of musk across his nose that told him to Come! Heel!
Speaker:Obey! Those weren’t orders that he obeyed.
Speaker:He wasn’t just any Markus—he was the
Speaker:Markus, and if anyone was going to bark out orders here, it was him!
Speaker:Still, just the feeling was making his knees
Speaker:feel wobbly. This would not do.
Speaker:Ignoring Markus (slave)’s plaintive whines,
Speaker:he turned to a slim desk set into an alcove.
Speaker:These days rarely called for long hours in his home, but he still felt it was important to have the old equipment around for moments just like this.
Speaker:He reached out and pressed a button
Speaker:on a stylish black box.
Speaker:It was shiny, and at the pressure of his finger, a smooth green light began to pulse.
Speaker:He didn’t have to wait more than three seconds before a voice chirped
Speaker:up from the device.
Speaker:“Boss?” “Take the boys down to the main run and loading bays. Something’s not right.”
Speaker:Behind him, Markus heard another whine.
Speaker:His vision ran red.
Speaker:Slave knew not to interrupt when he was busy with business.
Speaker:He turned to face Markus (slave) and held up a hand.
Speaker:Even though they were technically the same height by default,
Speaker:Puppy managed to cower down to seem quite insignificant.
Speaker:At the growl that was building in his throat, Puppy knelt lower
Speaker:and pushed himself against Markus’ front.
Speaker:Tongue flicked out in an intimate apology.
Speaker:Behind him, the box squawked.
Speaker:“Yes boss. Anything else?”
Speaker:“No disturbances tonight.
Speaker:It seems I have some unplanned training to do.”
Speaker:The voice on the intercom chuckled.
Speaker:The line went dead.
Speaker:With an iron grip around Markus (slave)’s snout,
Speaker:he stalked back to the bed.
Speaker:The feeling hadn’t disappeared, but at least he had work to do.
Speaker:The problem, whatever it was, could wait for morning. -
Speaker:Sun blazed through the north-facing window.
Speaker:Waking was a pleasure he intended to savor.
Speaker:Warm in the sunlight, and even warmer with someone’s tongue wrapped around his morning excitement.
Speaker:There was a body next to him.
Speaker:The fact that he could feel a pair of ears flicking against his shoulder
Speaker:and another tickling his thighs
Speaker:informed him that there were, in fact, two bodies
Speaker:to attend to his early AM needs.
Speaker:He heard whispers he chose not to officially hear.
Speaker:It appeared Puppy had made arrangements for an apology.
Speaker:Good. Apology accepted.
Speaker:He made a mental note to reward Puppy for it at some later date.
Speaker:Eyes still closed, he rolled and
Speaker:found a body to hug.
Speaker:A tail-curl pushed against his belly.
Speaker:It was at this point he stopped trying to keep track of who belonged to what.
Speaker:How many sneaky huskies were in bed with him? He didn't know.
Speaker:It could be two. It could be two hundred.
Speaker:As long as none of them got in the way of sliding up beneath that tail, he didn't care.
Speaker:There were hands on his ankles.
Speaker:Ears flickered against his thighs.
Speaker:A tongue lapped at his balls.
Speaker:Stubby fingers gripped his rump.
Speaker:Someone pushed a snout beneath his chin and whined.
Speaker:They were all disconnected sensations, delicious in their detachment.
Speaker:Markus could feel the remnants of last night’s “training” leaking out around him as he lazily thrust himself into the tight rump.
Speaker:Well, that answered the question of whose tail end he was sliding into.
Speaker:No surprise Puppy was whining.
Speaker:He’d probably be pretty sore for the next few days—but still, he’d asked for it.
Speaker:That mystery muzzle followed him, now licking under his tail as he pumped his bedslave full of his morning exuberance.
Speaker:Thrust. Shiver. Throb.
Speaker:When he pulled out, the muzzle dipped in eagerly to lick up the remnants of his orgasm.
Speaker:Shower, morning ablutions,
Speaker:then a sumptuous breakfast was waiting for him.
Speaker:Puppy attended him with a brush as he ate.
Speaker:Stiff bristles tugged at his grey pelt,
Speaker:pulling free shed undercoat in pearly white tufts.
Speaker:He closed his eyes
Speaker:and held his head still as a thin comb smoothed his facial mask.
Speaker:An even finer comb preened his whiskers.
Speaker:A tongue softly lapped at his muzzle as Puppy finished.
Speaker:It was eleven when he finished and felt ready to face the day.
Speaker:Downstairs he met with Markus (relations).
Speaker:There had been trouble with a supplier.
Speaker:Phillipton, the source of their aluminum stock,
Speaker:had a factory fault that had killed two highly trained Phillips and
Speaker:stalled production for a week while replacement tools had been rushed in.
Speaker:This would, he was told, delay production all the way down the line.
Speaker:Sitting in on the meeting was Phillip (accounts and accountability). Markus had met a few Phillips. They were solid and reliable horses, twice as tall as your standard Markus and about half as bright. This Phillip was full to the brim with apologies and promises, but no amount of apologies were going to keep Broderville ahead of Anton’s Crossing in terms of production if they didn’t find a week’s worth of stock somewhere.
Speaker:A call on the intercom brought in Markus (solutions),
Speaker:who was to follow Markus (relations) to Charleston.
Speaker:Things were already bad down there. It turned out that after eighty years, the standard-issue Charles
Speaker:wasn't a very good worker.
Speaker:They'd been below quota for years,
Speaker:and a week’s delay
Speaker:wasn’t going to make things appreciably worse.
Speaker:The team of Markuses were to beg, borrow, or even steal what they needed,
Speaker:and Charleston would get a favor.
Speaker:They were in need of all of those that they could get.
Speaker:By the end of the meeting, Markus was feeling rather philanthropic.
Speaker:A problem turned into a solution that was mutually beneficial for them and a
Speaker:possible future ally.
Speaker:That was why Markus was here.
Speaker:It was the personal touch that made the difference.
Speaker:Next on his schedule was a meeting with the dockworkers.
Speaker:Markus (driver) was waiting for him out at the curb inside a luxurious car.
Speaker:He had a twenty minute drive ahead of him and let his mind wander as the blocky slabs of Broderville's buildings flashed past his windows.
Speaker:It'd changed so much in the last eighty years. Everyone could
Speaker:remember the first days, since memory was part of the cloning process.
Speaker:A hundred intrepid capitalists and one war-torn, blasted-out, but resource-rich planet.
Speaker:Technically, it was a hundred and three,
Speaker:but round numbers felt so much better for the story.
Speaker:Why import workers when you can just clone your own?
Speaker:A hundred (and three) cities dotted around the globe,
Speaker:each one the investment of one of those original daring businessmen.
Speaker:A single ship with a skeleton crew landed eighty years ago,
Speaker:and now the planet was a thriving infrastructure,
Speaker:shipping out product to half the sector.
Speaker:That's how profit is made.
Speaker:But unrestrained profit requires its caretakers, and the original crew (like Markus) still had their duties.
Speaker:Life wasn't all sumptuous meals and sleeping in and Puppy worship.
Speaker:Those profits required a practiced hand,
Speaker:and no one’s hands in Broderville were as competent
Speaker:as the real Markus Broder (no title).
Speaker:Driver opening the door to his next meeting interrupted his reminiscing.
Speaker:Markus (foreman) met him with open arms and a list of demands.
Speaker:Some of them he’d allow himself to be convinced of, and others would have to wait for the next workers’ action.
Speaker:Everyone would go home feeling like ground had been gained, even if they didn’t get everything they asked for.
Speaker:After that, he was needed downtown to bless the union of Markus (payroll secretary) and Markus (resources manager).
Speaker:He laid hands on their ears, and they wagged for him.
Speaker:Markus (spiritual leader) said a blessing,
Speaker:and he was needed elsewhere.
Speaker:Markus (driver) ferried him cross-town with a minimum of fuss.
Speaker:Everything had been planned out for his schedule. Deliveries had been organized away from his path,
Speaker:and street lights were conveniently green as he was driven through.
Speaker:The whole town was gorgeously urban, structures of steel and concrete rising into the sky.
Speaker:The aesthetic was born of necessity,
Speaker:but Markus appreciated its utilitarian appeal.
Speaker:He was halfway downtown to handle a housing dispute when the feeling returned. He asked
Speaker:driver to stop the car and stepped out.
Speaker:He was in a low tunnel that ran beneath the factory itself,
Speaker:clogged with immobile delivery vehicles waiting for the night time
Speaker:for their dutiful drivers to take product to the next town over.
Speaker:Out of the ordinary, though, was a
Speaker:black van. It hunkered in between the hulking trucks.
Speaker:Markus stood still,
Speaker:leaning on the door of his car while the feelings amplified
Speaker:from general longing to
Speaker:desperate need. His knees melted, and only his arms on the frame of the door kept him upright.
Speaker:Come! Sit! Kneel! The commands
Speaker:were irresistible.
Speaker:One shaky step forward was all he got before the black van’s headlights lit.
Speaker:The feelings dissipated in just moments, and the van accelerated down into the depths of the tunnels.
Speaker:With full control of his limbs returned, he stepped shakily back into his car.
Speaker:“What was that, sir?”
Speaker:“Nothing you need to know about.”
Speaker:Markus answered crabbily.
Speaker:Sensing the mood, his driver shut his mouth and turned his attention to his job.
Speaker:Lights flashed by at
Speaker:a hundred miles per hour.
Speaker:“Stop.” His driver slowed,
Speaker:eyes watching him in the rear view mirror.
Speaker:One was yellow-green, and the other was blue—typical Markus.
Speaker:“Take me home.” “Are you feeling okay, sir?”
Speaker:Even before the question finished itself, Markus could feel the car turning around,
Speaker:and lights started flashing past as they fled back to the penthouse.
Speaker:“No.” Driver licked his lips.
Speaker:Markus could tell he was nervous. This wasn’t the way
Speaker:sir was supposed to act.
Speaker:“Should I call for medical help?”
Speaker:“No. I just had a thought. I need to fix something,
Speaker:but I can only do it
Speaker:back in the apartment.”
Speaker:Driver seemed to think for a moment.
Speaker:Nodded. That explanation passed muster.
Speaker:The rest of the ride was silent.
Speaker:They broke from the tunnel at a hundred twenty.
Speaker:Ahead of them, traffic had been cleared.
Speaker:Green lights met them at every intersection.
Speaker:Wherever Markus went, the lesser Markuses made way for him.
Speaker:He could feel their eyes on him.
Speaker:This was an unscheduled stop.
Speaker:Something was Wrong.
Speaker:He ignored them. It wasn’t their place to question him.
Speaker:It was after lunchtime when he returned home.
Speaker:Driver must have called ahead. Security
Speaker:was waiting for them, along with two huskies in what Markus had come to know as “Problem Solver’s” clothes.
Speaker:They followed him inside.
Speaker:“Anything from last night?”
Speaker:“No, sir. Nothing that we could find.”
Speaker:One of them seemed to be in charge. That one followed him into the elevator,
Speaker:while the other stayed downstairs.
Speaker:“I have more for you.
Speaker:A black van, maybe fifteen feet long, six or seven feet high.
Speaker:Dark windows in every direction. Ring any bells?”
Speaker:The problem-solver shook his head.
Speaker:“Not one of ours.” “Driver saw it too. Find it.
Speaker:Detain it. Get me some information.”
Speaker:The husky sharing the elevator with him saluted
Speaker:and rode it back down to the lobby after Markus had exited.
Speaker:Puppy met him at the door.
Speaker:He conspired to appear small again.
Speaker:An eager nose pushed into Markus’ palm when he held his hand out.
Speaker:He scratched Puppy’s ears, and the excitable dog followed him into his studio.
Speaker:He stopped in front of the window again.
Speaker:In the bright sunlight, Broderville looked quite a bit different than it did at night.
Speaker:The factory was a grey and brown blotch in the center of town, hulking and massive.
Speaker:Raw materials in and modular frame scaffolding out,
Speaker:ready to be turned into any number of useful pre-fabricated structures.
Speaker:It towered above all the other low-set buildings. Everything else around it was pleasing to the eye
Speaker:—white and smooth and curvaceous. In some ways,
Speaker:the buildings reminded him of huskies.
Speaker:Soft and white, with startling patches of color
Speaker:where the shapes were broken up for windows, doors,
Speaker:and other paraphernalia of their unfortunate need to be lived in.
Speaker:Looking out across his kingdom, Markus
Speaker:could feel the urge still.
Speaker:It made his hands shake.
Speaker:He clasped them behind his back.
Speaker:Puppy took that as an invitation.
Speaker:Legs shuffled and a body pressed itself to his legs.
Speaker:Hot breath puffed his shirt out,
Speaker:and fingers pried his belt off, followed by his fly.
Speaker:Puppy's mouth was on him in a moment,
Speaker:but his attention strayed.
Speaker:His mind just wasn't in it.
Speaker:He pushed Puppy's head back away from his crotch and heard a smacking of lips.
Speaker:Puppy looked up at him.
Speaker:After some time, Markus asked,
Speaker:“What is it like,
Speaker:Puppy?” It took some time for the question to work its way through Markus (slave)’s
Speaker:head. A soft and confused whine was his only response.
Speaker:“Don’t do that. You may not talk often, but I know you can.
Speaker:Tell me what it’s like.”
Speaker:A throat cleared.
Speaker:“You’re going to have to give me more detail,
Speaker:Master.” “What do you feel
Speaker:when I tell you to kneel?”
Speaker:Puppy’s muzzle pushed itself flat to Markus’ belly.
Speaker:The nose wormed up under his half-buttoned shirt,
Speaker:and hot breath puffed through the soft fur over his stomach.
Speaker:“Happy, Master.” A subconscious urge made him reach down and rub the muzzle as he stood in thought.
Speaker:“Why?” “Because you want me to, Master,
Speaker:and it’s something I can do.”
Speaker:The answer was immediate this time.
Speaker:“But don’t you ever get the urge to say no?”
Speaker:“I can’t. I’m not sure I can explain it to you.”
Speaker:Hands rubbed up under Marcus’ shirt,
Speaker:but he wasn’t going to let himself be deterred.
Speaker:“Try?” The hands stopped,
Speaker:then pulled back.
Speaker:From his crotch, a curious muzzle looked up at him.
Speaker:Eyes were narrowed in combined confusion and shock.
Speaker:“Okay.” “First is the voice.
Speaker:It doesn’t matter what you’re telling me to do.
Speaker:Just the fact that it’s your voice demands my total attention.
Speaker:Everything else around me seems to fade away. No,
Speaker:I know it’s there,
Speaker:but none of it matters,
Speaker:because you’re giving me a command.
Speaker:Second is the words.
Speaker:When you order me, it’s always
Speaker:to do something I want to do.
Speaker:Sometimes I only want to do it because you want me to do it, but in the end that’s all the same anyway, do you see?
Speaker:Third is the action.
Speaker:I’m a good puppy.
Speaker:I can tell what you want, and I can feel just how what I’m doing affects you.
Speaker:I know I’m pleasing you right, because I can feel it too.
Speaker:Your pleasure is my pleasure.”
Speaker:Some sense of his place seemed to come back to him.
Speaker:“Master, you’re kind.
Speaker:You always reach around and let me use your hand
Speaker:because you’re a good master.
Speaker:Please don’t take this the wrong way, because I want you to continue letting me do that,
Speaker:but I don’t need your hand.
Speaker:When I can feel you at the very end,
Speaker:and you’re spurting inside me, or it’s landing in my fur and dribbling down onto my skin…
Speaker:I don’t need anything more.
Speaker:Sometimes, when you’re so busy with work that you forget to let me use your hand,
Speaker:well… It’s good you let me do the laundry, because you might be angry that I made a mess
Speaker:even when you didn’t specifically tell me to.
Speaker:“I hope I haven’t displeased you, Master?”
Speaker:The face down between his legs looked worried.
Speaker:He reached down to stroke Puppy’s ears, and the anxious posture disappeared.
Speaker:“Puppy, I want you to do something for me.”
Speaker:Markus could feel the thrill.
Speaker:Fingers closed around his thigh.
Speaker:Puppy’s fur puffed out and he pushed his body needily against his master’s legs.
Speaker:He seemed to have decided that the time for words had passed and let out a happy whine.
Speaker:Markus noted—only because attention had been brought to it earlier
Speaker:—that Puppy was hard and standing proud against his leg, leaving little dribbles of his excitement behind him.
Speaker:“Puppy, I want you to order me to please you.” The whine
Speaker:stopped. Confusion returned.
Speaker:“I—” “That’s an order, Puppy.”
Speaker:Slowly, Markus (slave) stood.
Speaker:His body occluded the sun.
Speaker:It was strange to see Puppy stand to his full height.
Speaker:He spent so much time curled and bent and kneeling that sometimes Markus forgot that Puppy was just as tall as him.
Speaker:Around him, the fringe of his pristine pelt lit him like a halo.
Speaker:“If you wish. Master,
Speaker:look into my eyes.
Speaker:eyes.” This wasn’t the order Markus wanted to hear. He was about to bark out another order,
Speaker:but Puppy reached out and took his muzzle. Eye to eye,
Speaker:they stared at each other.
Speaker:It was odd staring into those eyes—they were the reverse of the ones that looked out of the mirror at him every morning.
Speaker:But when his gaze flicked to the side, the other eyes didn’t.
Speaker:It was as if the figure in the mirror had decided he’d had enough of his failures and
Speaker:had gone out to live a life of his own.
Speaker:Which, in the circumstances, was apt.
Speaker:It only lasted a few seconds.
Speaker:Ten. Maybe twenty.
Speaker:Puppy’s gaze fell first, and he sank back to his knees.
Speaker:“It won’t help.” It took Markus a few moments to recover.
Speaker:“What?” “I could tell you to do whatever you want me to tell you to do, but it won’t work.”
Speaker:“How do you know until you try?”
Speaker:Markus (slave) shook his head sadly.
Speaker:“You’re feeling it, aren’t you?
Speaker:It’s like someone’s calling your name, and your body wants to go to them?”
Speaker:Now that Puppy brought it up,
Speaker:he was feeling it.
Speaker:It was a slow tingle down his spine.
Speaker:Markus growled. “How could you
Speaker:possibly know—” “Please,
Speaker:Master. I will follow your
Speaker:every order. Tell me to pleasure you.”
Speaker:“I don’t want you to
Speaker:pleasure me. I want to know how you knew.”
Speaker:“I can’t tell you.
Speaker:Anything else, and my body is yours, but I
Speaker:can’t.” The feeling was growing stronger.
Speaker:Come! He felt his ears turning to listen for a voice that wasn’t there.
Speaker:“Puppy, I won’t ask you again!”
Speaker:Below him, the kneeling dog was quivering.
Speaker:“Good. Then I won’t have to say no again,
Speaker:Master. I don’t like
Speaker:saying no.” “That’s an order!” “That I can’t follow.
Speaker:Not won’t. Can’t. Incapable of.
Speaker:Master, the words will stop in my mouth.
Speaker:Breath will catch in my throat.”
Speaker:Markus leaned down and hauled Puppy up by his neck.
Speaker:He had to strain to lift the weight—his bedslave was heavier than he looked.
Speaker:“Why? One more ‘no’ and I’ll put you through this window.”
Speaker:“Then I’ll be dead,
Speaker:and you’ll need to have them make another Puppy
Speaker:—and that Puppy won’t know.
Speaker:I know, and because I know,
Speaker:I can’t say.” Puppy didn’t try to defend himself.
Speaker:He hung limply, back pressed against the window.
Speaker:His tail was curled up between his legs.
Speaker:He licked his lips, struggling to pull in breath around Markus’ grip.
Speaker:“But there’s one thing I can tell you.”
Speaker:Markus let him drop.
Speaker:He didn’t have the heart.
Speaker:For all his bluster, he liked
Speaker:Puppy. He might be the least of all Markuses in the town, but the little crying bundle at his feet was his Puppy.
Speaker:“And that is?” Puppy hid his eyes.
Speaker:“If you’re feeling it
Speaker:—really feeling it
Speaker:—then you’ll know soon too, Master,
Speaker:and then you won’t be able to say either.”
Speaker:The tingling splashed in his mind.
Speaker:It was as if he’d dunked his head in ice water.
Speaker:Just like before, his knees wobbled.
Speaker:His legs went liquid
Speaker:and failed under him.
Speaker:Puppy caught him.
Speaker:Heterochromatic eyes gazed into his, then nodded.
Speaker:“You need to go.” He was about to argue,
Speaker:but again, he heard the call.
Speaker:Distant, but much closer than last time. He did
Speaker:need to go. Right now.
Speaker:He needed out. Puppy’s fingers twined with his.
Speaker:Markus wanted to ask for help.
Speaker:Instead, the hand holding his dropped as he turned towards the door without another word.
Speaker:There was one of his “problem solvers” in the elevator. Marcus waved away his obvious concern.
Speaker:In the lobby, security was still on alert. He waved them down.
Speaker:“Put away your toys, boys.
Speaker:Everything’s fine.”
Speaker:Inside his head, he wondered why he’d said that.
Speaker:Everything was not fine.
Speaker:His knees were wobbly, and he felt queasy.
Speaker:Please don’t leave. Please help me.
Speaker:“Take the night off.
Speaker:Just leave the normal guard. It’s all sorted now.
Speaker:now.” Four Markuses in bullet-proof vests relaxed visibly.
Speaker:He noted that their tails were wagging.
Speaker:On instinct, he reached out to the closest one.
Speaker:He rubbed the guard’s head, and underneath his fingers a nose pushed up into his palm.
Speaker:Just like Puppy’s.
Speaker:Then they left. Boss said everything was fine.
Speaker:The most Markus of all the Markus would know,
Speaker:wouldn’t he? He didn’t take the main entrance.
Speaker:Around the back of the elevator and behind the conference rooms was a squat deliveries door
Speaker:and a loading bay behind.
Speaker:He knew this, even though he’d never been down behind it.
Speaker:The call was close now.
Speaker:He ran the last ten feet to the door and threw his weight against it.
Speaker:It sprung open to his shoulder.
Speaker:He left behind a smooth dent in the aluminum.
Speaker:Outside, he stumbled to his knees.
Speaker:The black van laid waiting.
Speaker:The side door was open,
Speaker:and sitting in a back passenger seat
Speaker:was Markus. This was the first of two parts of “Shell Game” by Kandrel, read for you by Khaki, your faithful fireside companion.
Speaker:Tune in next time
Speaker:to find out who is the real Markus.
Speaker:OR WILL YOU?! As always, you can find more stories on the web at thevoice.dog,
Speaker:or find the show wherever you get your podcasts.
Speaker:Thank you for listening
Speaker:to The Voice of Dog.
