There's a moment in the life of a hund when he realizes that he has royally fucked up. And I was having one of those moments as I looked around the precinct and nobody was even bothering to look back at me. I had expected to see an army of like minded hunds ready to kick ass and take names.

But that wasn't how it worked. And much like a mountain climber suddenly feeling their rope go slack or a pilot hearing an engine stall I was beginning to realize how precarious my situation was. I wasn't dead yet, but things were about to get very interesting.

The tech had worked. At least a dozen of my coworkers would have a change of heart, but not for at least a week.

The transition wasn't instant. It sure had felt instant when it happened to me. But that was just the software filling in the gaps. I had watched Kerner Prime splatter like a ripe squash on the ground after he stuck his fingers in my brain, but I hadn't become him until about a week later.

On the bright side, the amount of corrupt cops running compatible wetware had come as a pleasant surprise. It really shouldn't have. After the post war vultures had picked the corpse of Döbi clean our tech had made its way into a surprising amount of civilian and military applications. And police departments loved hiring former soldiers.

I had also realized after the fact that there was no guarantee that the copies I had made would choose to take on the Bone Syndicate. I had made them, but I couldn't force them to act. More than likely they would do exactly what I had done and keep their heads down.

The only small glimmer of hope that sustained me was that maybe after I was gone they would make the city somewhat less shitty and bleak.

"A word, if you please." My mouth said as the Gravekeeper asserted itself and began to walk my body towards the large washroom across the office. I felt my hand lock the door behind me as I entered. No sounds alerted my keen ears to any eavesdroppers that might be hiding in the stalls.

I looked in the mirror and watched with surprise as my reflection winked back at me. Suddenly I was back in control of my body. I turned towards the door... but my reflection did not.

"Neat trick." I said as I leaned in to take a closer look in the mirror. My doppelganger backed away to prevent me from doing so.

"I thought this might be a better method of communication, moving forward." The Gravekeeper said. It had my voice but my jaw wasn't moving. So this was something entirely different than before. I couldn't decide if it was better or worse.

"Much worse." The Gravekeeper assured me.

"Fuck…" I swore. So it could still read my thoughts.

"Yes. Though if it helps, think of it just like previewing a book that you're going to devour later." It laughed and lunged at the glass.

*------

When I woke up I could hear the soft gentle lapping of water against a wooden dock. I didn't open my eyes and instead I took a deep breath through my nose, inhaling all of the smells around me. My sense of smell still hadn't recovered since the explosion, probably because of a blood clot or something deep in my sinuses. Major brain trauma would do that.

But here I could still smell. So that meant wherever here was, it wasn't real. Maybe it was a dream. But it was still beautiful how the sharp turpentine scent of the evergreens diffused into the moss and algae of the lake. It smelled good, it smelled like home. There was even a hint of well aged tobacco from one of my father's cigars. It was like leather and vanilla in my nose.

I opened my eyes and saw a familiar sight, an alpine lake sparsely ringed with wooden houses. My childhood home back in Döbi. I felt a sense of apprehension as I turned around, not sure what I was hoping to see.

My father smiled from his chair, a long thin cigar in his hand. He was exactly how I remembered him. His fine black Döbian fur held just the hint of gray around the muzzle and he wore a hand knit sweater my mother had given him. It wasn't particularly well made. The coarse wool yarn showed gaps and the collar was uneven, one sleeve was shorter than the other, yet it had always been his favorite. "Won't you join me?" He asked.

I felt my blood run cold with dread but my heart physically hurt from the ache of longing. There had been a time when I would have given anything to see my father again. To have just one conversation with him again. To drink beers and laugh together one last time.

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"Of course." I said, sitting down beside him in one of the heavy wooden chairs. "It has been a long time."

I felt his hand reach out and grasp mine. He gave it a good squeeze then let go. "I miss your buckwheat fur." He said. "But I can't help thinking this new body of yours suits you. And when you're old and gray like me I wonder if we'll look like brothers. Now wouldn't that be a thing?"

"It would, wouldn't it?" I replied, wondering how I had gotten here. I couldn't be dead, where I was going the scenery wouldn't be nearly this pleasant. "Where are we?"

"We're in a memory." My father replied. "I gave myself to the Gravekeeper when I died and he built this place from my memories. It was a gamble. I would not be able to hide anything from him because I would be dead. But I was hoping that he would understand why I did what I did and judge me by my intentions, if not my results."

My father shook his head and laughed. "Imagine keeping secrets your entire life then suddenly being laid bare. The first thing the Gravekeeper did was show me how much of an idiot I was. He showed me dozens of different ways I could have achieved my goals without harming the Katzen. He showed me the pain I had caused, both intentionally and unintentionally."

He took a puff from his cigar thoughtfully. "And then a wonderful thing happened, he forgave me. I didn't deserve it. But he forgave me all the same."

I sat back in my chair and closed my eyes, listening to the soft lap of the wind driven waves against the wooden dock. "That sounds divine."

"Forgiveness often is." My father replied. "I never told you this, but my one regret about dying was that I wouldn't be there for you when you needed me. That's why I copied myself into those Katzen. Though in hindsight it was another unnecessary cruelty. I should have set them free, but by now it's too late. Your Gershwin has already awakened the rest."

My eyes snapped open and my mind was racing. "What?"

"When you were distracted at the brothel he went onto the net and transmitted the wake-up codes you used on him. I had left ways to reach the others should it prove necessary, apparently he decided it was." My father shrugged. "We will have to see what becomes of that."

That was when I remembered the isolation rig Gershwin had been wearing when he came to breakfast. One Gershwin alone was a barely manageable problem, but I shuddered to think what he could get up to with dozens of like minded helpers.

My mind drifted back to my own situation. "I imprinted myself on some of the other cops, but I don't think they're going to be much help."

"Oh!" My father laughed. "You thought you could enslave your brothers? No. I would never allow that. I love you too much." He slapped me on the knee. "Come, walk with me."

"But what's the point?" I asked as I followed him down to the dock. "Why even give me the ability at all?"

My father kneeled down and pulled up his mismatched sleeves before reaching into the water. Triumphantly he turned to me with two wet and dripping bottles of beer. "What's the point of keeping beer cold in the lake when we've got a perfectly good refrigerator? What's the point of learning for yourself when others will happily tell you what to do? It's about choice." He popped the top off the beer and handed it to me.

I took a sip and savored the taste of home brewed Döbian ale. The smell of the lake water that had soaked into the label and crept under the cap reminded me of happier times. My father and I had held many conversations on this dock, drinking our beers, sharing our stories.

Gershwin Prime sighed. "When you died I blamed myself. After all, I had been using my connections to provide Sacher with the chocolate that later killed you." He raised a hand to stop me before I could speak. "I had taken precautions. I used pup proof containers and warning labels. I had made sure to always give it directly to him or his wife. Yet still it ended up killing my family."

"And when you were gone and the years passed I found myself wondering what you would have been like had you lived. I found myself thinking about how old you would be. I can still remember thinking one lonely morning that you would be five by now. And it broke my heart all over again."

"Would you have been kind? Would you be clever? Would you be a better hund than I was? Would you be a scientist like me or maybe a cook like your mother? But that was stolen from you, from me, and the unfairness of it was too much to handle."

He sighed again and sipped his beer. "So I lied. I lied to the Döbian Council and promised them super soldiers. I used the horrors of the reformation to advance my work and eventually I was able to bring you and your sister back."

I waited silently, drinking my beer and feeling guilty for being alive knowing what it had cost and the misery it had caused.

Gershwin Prime continued. "I never wanted you to rule the world. I just wanted you to be a good hund and to be happy, whether that was as a soldier or a baker or whatever you chose to become. But I wanted it to be your choice, just the way I made the choice to let the Döbian Council believe that my work was a failure to protect you."

"You aren't the same as Kerner Prime, just as he was not the same as the son I lost. Kerner is the lens through which you see the world, but he is not your whole world. You are just as unique and special as he was, and I love you for it. That means you're free to do what you will."

My father sipped at his beer thoughtfully. "But you've made your choice and now it's time to see that choice through. You chose to take on the Bone Syndicate. You chose this."

Before I could say another word I was back in the dirty police precinct bathroom. And I realized then that I had nobody but myself to blame for what was going to happen next. I would go out with my head held high like a true son of Döbi. I was going to go out fighting. That was my choice.