Einstein Dog (12 page)

“This is stupid!” she muttered, resting for a moment.

She remembered something Bertrand had said once: you could only communicate in Dog if you “really believed”.

What did
that
mean?

The grass tickled her legs. A breeze shushed in the treetops. The vast blue vault of the sky arched overhead. All these sensations were beyond doubting. Was that what it meant to believe? To accept something without question? Ariel frowned. She had never questioned her senses. Why should she? “If you're stupid enough to doubt that the buildings of Triumph University are real, you could always take a run at one of them,” she grumped.

Talking dogs, though. That was another matter entirely. To really believe in such a phenomenon you would have to be prepared to say so, even though all your friends would laugh in your face. You would have to be like Bertrand.

For a long while Ariel sat stewing. She might have stayed like that the rest of the afternoon, but her gloomy thoughts were interrupted by the scrabble of paws on her leg and a cold nose nuzzling her hand. Genie wanted some attention.

Ariel beamed. “You are a real friend,” she said, laughing. “That's what I believe.” Scrambling to her feet, Ariel mussed Genie's fur. Genie wriggled and barked with pleasure. Who cared that they couldn't exchange tellies? Ariel thought. There were other ways of expressing love, and that was how she'd communicate with her Genie.

Cap, Breeze, and Blizzard wrestled in the far corner of the pen, the occasional yelp or growl interrupting Einstein's fitful snoozing. When roused, he'd watch them for a minute, only to nod off again, sedated by the warm rays of the declining sun and the hush of the afternoon breeze. Life was good. Except . . . Cap, Breeze, and Blizzard were still on one side of the compound, he and Genie on the other.

It's not right,
he said to his sister.

If he doesn't like us, that's his loss,
Genie sniffed. She was lying on her back, where she'd been since her human, Ariel, had left for the day.
I don't want to play his stupid games anyway. He always has to be boss and referee!

He's not what you're making him out to be, Genie,
Einstein argued.
If we could only get through to him I think we'd find Cap is a pretty good guy.

I'm sure he'd be glad to hear that,
she said sarcastically.
Why don't you just trot on over there and tell him.

Okay,
he said.
I will.

Jeez,
she hissed.
Don't be an idiot.

Before she could finish her sentence, Einstein loped across the pound, shaking himself awake as he went.

Well, well,
Cap taunted.
If it isn't the genie-ass himself.

Breeze and Blizzard snickered nervously.

Can I play?
Einstein ignored Cap's remark and dangerous look.

I don't know. Has anyone taught you how to play yet?

Again Einstein let it go. If he joined in the game, maybe Cap would ease up and they could have a little fun. Then, when they were tuckered out, they could talk.

What's the game called?
he asked. Cap exchanged a mischievous glance with his companions.
It's called Kill the Weakling
.

Oh.
Einstein gulped.

But he couldn't back out now. They'll think I'm chicken, he told himself, waiting to see what would happen next.

Cap's grin widened.

How do you know who's the weakling?
Einstein stammered.

They laughed as if he'd asked something really stupid.
You know,
Cap mused,
for a SMART dog you ask some pretty dumb questions. Maybe it's a trick you're playing on us. What do you think, Breeze: is he trying to lull us, or is he really a loser?

I don't think he's trying to fool us,
Breeze answered.
He's never played before, that's all . . .

Never played because he's always got his nose upwind, like the air is better in any direction that ain't here, huh?

Cap!
she cautioned.

Him and Genie over there,
Cap snapped, shutting her up.

Einstein glanced desperately over at Genie, who still lay in the sand, her head resting on her paws. She didn't want to get involved, Einstein thought. Suddenly, though, she sprang forward, barking fiercely.
Look out!
she screamed.

Instinctively Einstein crouched and pivoted toward Cap.

Before he could complete the manoeuvre Cap bowled him over.
This is how we choose the weakling,
he exulted, his jaws locked around Einstein's throat.

Enraged, Einstein struggled, but he couldn't break free. Cap bore down even harder, applying his weight and strength expertly. Behind them Genie snapped and snarled, battling with Breeze and Blizzard.

Give!
Cap demanded.

Get off!
Einstein raged.

Cap tightened his death grip. Einstein held in his yelp of pain and stopped his thrashing. He couldn't break Cap's stranglehold and would only injure himself trying. If Cap didn't loosen his hold soon, Einstein felt sure he would faint.

Give!
Cap demanded again.

Einstein refused.
Why do you hate me, brother?
he pleaded.

Hate!
Cap unlocked his jaws and sprang back.
Bree! Blizz!
he called sharply. Immediately the battle with Genie ended, his lieutenants returning to his side
. I don't hate you, little brother,
Cap corrected.
I'm just teaching you a lesson.

Teaching?
Genie spat.
The only thing you can teach is how to be a cheat and a coward!

Cap laughed, but Einstein knew the rebuke stung.
No, sis,
he retorted as if she'd been joking.
I'm teaching little brother here a lesson in survival. Our Einstein thinks too much, and thinking slows you down. Trust your instincts, Einee; they're quicker in a fight.

Thanks,
Einstein grumbled, picking himself up and shaking the dust out of his fur.
I'll remember that next time.

No problemo
, Cap answered grandly.

Weary and sore, Einstein slunk past Breeze and Blizzard. They looked sad and ashamed, but defiant, too. How had all this happened? Einstein could figure out a lot of things: the time of day by the angle of the sun; patterns of human speech; any number of riddles posed by Professor Smith — but he couldn't figure out why Cap hated him so when all
he
wanted was to be friends.

That worked out well,
Genie grumped as they limped off to their corner of the pound.

Anger flared, but Einstein checked his tart reply. After all, she'd tried to warn him, and she
had
come to his rescue.
You know what's going to happen in the next couple of days, don't you?
he said.

She nodded.

Is this the way you want to remember your brothers and sister?

What is, is,
she said quietly.

What is can be changed, Genie!

She shook her head.
You'll never learn, will you?
she sighed.

You're a laboratory pup, locked up in a kennel, you can't even beat your bully brother in a fight, and you figure you're going to change the world? You think you're going to make Cap into a tail-wagger, and that nasty dean and her evil friend puppy huggers? Wake up, Einstein! Use your brain. We don't change the world, we adapt to it. Like Cap said, we survive.

He flopped down on his side, panting. She lay down next to him, using his tummy as a pillow.
But you have to believe in something, Genie, don't you . . . I mean, something other than what is?

She didn't answer. Instead Genie yawned hugely and nuzzled her snout into his fur, getting ready for a snooze. That was her answer, Einstein supposed. They had each other and there was some hope that they, at least, would not be separated like the others. From Libra's reports it seemed Ariel had made some progress with her mother. Perhaps there was room in the Krieger house for a dog to join a plump cat and a noisy cockatoo. Perhaps Genie and Einstein would be neighbours.

Charlie flicked his cigarette butt off into the tall grass.

“You ought to be careful,” Bob warned. “You could start a fire.”

“Yeah, yeah. You just keep your eye on those dogs, bro.”

Bob wished he knew what they were supposed to be looking for. It seemed to him they were taking a big risk. More than once he'd seen SMART 73 snuffle the air, poking her nose through the kennel fence. She'd even barked angrily in their direction until she'd been calmed by Elaine Schwartz. Bob remembered his encounter with SMART 73 in Campus Wood. He didn't want a repeat performance.

“I still think it's a waste of time being here,” he said crankily.

“Do or die, little brother. Don't question why.”

Bob sighed and resumed his surveillance. By his calculations Elaine was the last person still in the SMART lab and she would be leaving in a few minutes. Professor Smith had already gone home. The dogs had been brought inside. Unless he went down there and actually pressed his nose against the lab's window, there'd be nothing more to see. There never was.

“Sunday night will be different, bro,” Charlie promised cheerfully.

Charlie was lying on his back, his hands behind his head, soaking up rays from the declining sun. Funny, Bob thought, the only time his brother ever looked truly happy was in that eerie interlude when a job had been planned down to the last detail and they were biding their time, waiting for the action to begin.

“You ready Bob?” Charlie asked.

Bob's stomach turned. “Yeah,” he lied.

“You're gonna have to toughen up,” Charlie advised. “I can't have you wimping out. You saw Hindquist's look. If we screw up, he's going to skin us alive, man. Who's more important: us or a bunch of lab mutts? Make up your mind.”

Why did they have to choose, Bob wanted to know? Why couldn't they work things out so it wasn't always us-against-them?

“Once Schwartz has gone, we'll skedaddle too. The Boss will be satisfied. Besides, we have to rest up for the big day.”

“Sure,” Bob agreed sourly.

Bertrand and Ariel moped on the steps in front of her townhouse. Squawk perched on Ariel's shoulder; Purr lay curled up in her lap.

“Do you think she'll come around?” Bertrand wondered.

Ariel glanced at the kitchen window. “I haven't seen her this mad since . . . ” She thought about it for a while, then gave up.

“Should I leave?” he asked.

Ariel stared at him, desperate and speechless. “No!” her look said. He shouldn't even have asked. After all, he had to accept some blame. Hadn't
he
suggested the perfect home for Genie would be Unit Eleven, Forestview Townhouse complex?

The house shuddered as if an explosion had been detonated deep within.

Ariel winced.

“What'll you do if your mom says no?”