Cherub

A Story by Chapman

In the world of space, a young man and his dog em'bark' on a mission to find Cherub's family. Written in under 30 minutes for a space travel competition.

The first thing you need to know when your dog starts talkin’ is that it don’t got much to say ‘bout nothin’.
‘Kevin! Poo! Poo, Kevin!’
‘Shut up, Cherub.’

That’s my dog, Cherub. Great name, I know. Not as bad as mine.
I lived on the plant of Etherport of most my life, and still me mum thinks it right ter call me ‘Kevin’. That’s the name we give to them ugly human-things. At least I’m normal looking like. I stand on two legs, with my thick, muscular tail ter s’pport me. Me fur’s that unremarkable colour of blue-ish green, and me eyes are flat black. Most ‘a me mates ‘ave normal names- Bluesyes, Manythanks, Complete Circle an’ Greatdesires… well; they sound better in the native tongue. Much o’ the meaning’s lost in translation I reckons.

So, anyway, back to Cherub. It don’t look nothin’ like any angel or nothin’. Its face looks like it was squashed in by some sort of an ‘ammer and its fur looked as if it may have once been white, but the dust and dirt around its former home must have turned it into some sort of brownie- grey colour. There’s not much water is space, yer see. ‘E wasn’t originally mine- I jus’ happened to find it this one day as I cruised along in Z space. Poor thing was the only one left after pirates attacked his mothership.
    I aint seen a dog is such a long time- not in my travels with the Spiders, Dragons, See Weeds or Manchees.
     Pr’aps I should start with the beginning. I’m a planet critic. I go through worlds, galaxies and universes findin’ the best places, and puttin’ my reports in diff’rent magazines an’ the such.
     ‘I’m bored Kev.’
     ‘Shut up, Cherub.’

I can’t believe I’m actually helping this smelly old dog. That thing is the reason I’m here now, searching for the dogs’ family. This stupid mutt still believes its family is out there. Was but a pup when I first found it- could barely open its blinkin’ eyes. Only last week, it started barkin’ out random words… and now he’s forming halfway decent sentences. I don’t know whether to feel proud or just downright annoyed.
     ‘Kev! They’re close! I smell them!’
     ‘Cherrie, we’ve been lookin’ for them for less than one whole week- I doubts we’ll see ‘em for at least a few years’
     ‘Cherub got superior nose. Cherub smells it out for you. Watch.’

My dumb, smelly dog lumbered over to the telescope, and put his nose to the eye piece. Note to self: Clean eyepiece of my ship’s telescope.
I sat there for at least half an hour, not doing much while Cherub rushed around (never seem him work so hard in me life) moving the ship s**t way an’ that as he ‘smelt’ out ‘is relatives… apparently. I’ve always been the world’s biggest skeptic, so I don’t reckon this here pup could find its way to dinner if I didn’t put signs up… but I let him have his fun. It shut him up, at least.

Suddenly, his little stubby tail goes berserk! He skips around me in circles, yellin’ stuff in me ear.
‘Family here!’ He barks ‘Family on this ship!’

I peer through the telescope (remembering to wipe the snot from Cherubs nose off it first, of course) and stare, wide eyed, mouth open at the scene before me.
     ‘Cherub…’ I whisper ‘are ye sure…?’
      ‘Yes! Positive! Exactly! Cherub smells them.’ My faithful, clueless god barks, wagging his tail so ferociously I was afraid it would fall off.
I cleared me throat, but said nothin. I felt my heart swell fer Cherub. Poor bloke.
     ‘C’mon Cherub. We gotta leave now.’ I turned my back to the scene, and used my four arms to start the ship- preparing it for the burst into hyperspace.
     ‘Why, Kev! Family there!’ Cherub put his paws to the telescope, barking into the eyepiece.
     ‘All family there is dead, Cherub’
     ‘Dead?’ I nodded, sad to see his tail droop ever so slightly in response.

The Floating Graveyard. I’d heard about it. The very rich send their dead to forever be part of space- to fly and fly and be free. It has no air bubble around it, or nothing growin’ on its cold, hard soil. There are no tombstones in the graveyard. I could never go an’ see which one belongs to Cherubs family.

‘Cherub got more family, Kev’ Says Cherub quietly. My heart quickens. New hope fills my eyes.
‘Really, Cherub?!’
Cherub nodded. ‘We go find them, Kev!’

I sighed. This could take a long time.

I still haven’t found any traces of Cherubs family- but my poor, dumb mutt hasn’t given up hope.
However, when I find them, I’ll be sure to tell you.