Einstein Dog (24 page)

“Life goes on,” Bertrand supposed. “Even without Einstein.” He sighed, sipping at his mocha. “But I miss him, Airee.”

“Me too,” she consoled.

They were sitting in the courtyard of McBurney's Coffee Shop, a place they'd often chosen in the past because Einstein could join them.

“Everywhere I go reminds me of him.”

“If we only knew where he was and what he was doing, that would be a relief,” Ariel said. “It's not knowing that's driving me crazy.”

Bertrand had seen a show once on the Knowledge Network about people who had lost an arm or a leg. For a long time they would try to grab something with a hand that wasn't there or walk on a leg that had been amputated. “That's what it's like not having Einstein around,” he explained.

“He'll be back,” Ariel said with as much conviction as she could muster. “And the three of us will free Genie and the others. You'll see.”

Bertrand had to believe it. Einstein would get in touch. Somewhere, sometime he would send a message.

Whump!

The paper boy, doing his route up Fraser Street, decided they needed a copy of the Langley Advance and had tossed it onto the table as he cycled by.

“Thanks!” Bertrand shouted doubtfully, recognizing the boy from school. Then he looked at the front page headline and gasped.

DOGS TRASH EATERY,
TOUGHER BYLAWS SOUGHT.

Stunned, he and Ariel read the article: plates smashed, tables knocked over, windows shattered, a pack of four dogs. They couldn't doubt Einstein was involved, but none of it made sense.

“Unless he's formed a gang,” Ariel suggested.

“He doesn't need a gang!” Bertrand protested. “And a stunt like this certainly wouldn't help him.” He jabbed at the newspaper in disgust. “Einstein knows he has to lay low, not smash plates and get himself plastered all over the news.”

A strange sensation interrupted Bertrand's train of thought. He cocked his head like a dog listening to a high pitched whistle.

“What?” Ariel wanted to know.

“Shhh!” he hushed. “I-I can't be sure, but I think someone's beaming me a telly.”

“Einstein?” Ariel asked, excitedly.

The transmission shimmered in Bertrand's brain: rattling leaves, dappled light. Whoever was sending it did not want to show herself, but
did
want him to go someplace, someplace vaguely familiar.

“Come on,” he said.

“Where are we going?”

“Don't know, but we're being called by a SMART dog, Breeze I think.”

“Breeze! But . . . ”

“Quiet,” he shushed. “AMOS might have us under surveillance. We don't want to give ourselves away.”

Suddenly, as they mounted their bikes, the mental fog cleared. He recognized Nicomekl Park. He was to go there.

Not directly,
the SMART dog warned, talking now.
Twist and turn. Cover your tracks. I'll follow and watch for a tail.

Bertrand passed on the news to Ariel. “It
is
Breeze. I'm sure of it,” he said. “But she's sending talkies just like Einstein and Genie.”

They whirred along in silence for a while, both wondering what kind of rendezvous they were headed for.

At last they wheeled under the canopy of trees into the Park. Stopping at a concrete picnic table, Bertrand scanned the clearing behind them for any sign they were being followed. Nothing. Then another mental image took shape. He recognized a warren inside a blackberry thicket with a grove at the far end. The trunk of an enormous Sitka spruce occupied the centre of the clearing.

“Where to now?” Ariel asked as they set off again.

“The Grove.”

They pedaled down a rolling green onto the path that followed the curve of the Nicomekl. About halfway between First and Second Bridge they dismounted and wheeled their bikes into a dim, musky tunnel formed by overarching vegetation. Bertrand shivered, partly because of the coolness of the air, partly because he was excited. At the entrance to The Grove he stopped to reconnoitre. The spot was deserted, unless someone lay in hiding behind the trunk of the spruce.

“So what do we do?”

“Wait, I guess,” Bertrand said, although he wasn't sure himself. “This is the place I was told to come to.”

“Told by who, though? Was it really Breeze?”

“Hello!” Bertrand hollered.

Not so loud!
a familiar voice scolded from deep within the thicket.
We're waiting just to be sure you weren't followed.

“Einstein!”

Not so loud!
Einstein repeated.

“It's him, Airee!” Bertrand cried, hugging her excitedly because there was no one else in the vicinity to hug. “It's Einstein!” “Einstein?”

“Yes!” he whooped. He heard other voices, too. “And Cap, and Blizzard, and Breeze,” he reported. “They're all here!”

“And Genie?” Ariel asked hopefully.

Bertrand listened, but slumped perceptibly. “I don't hear Genie,” he said.

A shadow of sadness clouded Ariel's eyes, then she smiled bravely. Incredibly bravely, Bertrand realized, filled with admiration for his friend.

They spent a long time catching up. Cap listened to the stories of Einstein, Bertrand, and Ariel, then told the stories of himself, Blizzard and Breeze, how they'd been condemned by Hindquist and freed by Bob Gowler.

We're perfectly able to fend for ourselves now and we're going to stay free,
he concluded.

“You mean you want to stay wild?” Bertrand asked.

Yes. We've had enough of humans, present company excepted.

Bertrand couldn't argue, not after what had happened to the dogs at AMOS. But it seemed a shame that Einstein's brothers and sister would be banished to the wilds, hated and hunted by humans.

At last Bertrand asked what had happened to Genie, a subject Cap and the others seemed to be studiously ignoring.

She's still with Hindquist,
Breeze said.

And gone over to his side,
Cap added contemptuously.

She's his dog now, the first in what'll be a long line of “canine operatives”.

What are ‘canine operatives'?
Bertrand asked.

That's why he kidnapped us. He wants to create an army of SMART dogs, all of them loyal to him. He's got a training facility all set up, and his head scientist, a cursed creature named Molar, has developed special gear that transforms dogs into four-legged killing machines. Genie is the prototype. So much for her superior intelligence.

Cap!
Breeze growled.
She's our sister.

She's our enemy,
he shot back.

They both raised their hackles and bared their fangs. There might have been a fight then and there if Einstein hadn't intervened.

Either way we have to rescue her,
he said matter-of-factly.

Surprised, Cap and Breeze forgot their argument and stared at him.

We have to rescue her,
he repeated in a level voice.

No way!
Cap snarled.
If you think I'm going anywhere near AMOS, you're crazy. I wouldn't do it for all the dog food in the universe, and certainly not for that snooty traitor of a one-time sister. No way!

Breeze sighed.
You're such a pig-headed idiot,
she groaned.
You don't know what you're talking about.

Then she turned on Einstein.
And you! What do you know about AMOS? Getting in would be next to impossible, getting caught an absolute certainty. And if we get caught, brother, that's the end of us. Hindquist might keep you around for a while, until he could conduct some tests and take some ‘biological material', but in the end, you'd be dead, too.

“Einstein's right just the same,” Bertrand jumped in, speaking out loud for Ariel. “Genie must be rescued.” He waited until the yelps and howls of protest died down, and all eyes were fixed attentively on him. “I understand the danger. I know the odds are stacked heavily against us. Still, we have to try . . . ”

Cap grumbled dangerously.

Let him speak!
Breeze intervened.

You mean let us be dictated to by a man-child?

Mother accepted him as a member of our litter; as the senior member,
she reminded.
That gives his opinion as much weight as anyone's. Remember that and shut up for a change.

Cap's eyes blazed, but with tremendous effort he restrained himself.

Speak up,
Breeze said crossly.
Why risk our lives to save Genie?

“Because if we don't save her, she and her offspring will be turned against us by Hindquist, and in the end, they'll destroy us,” Bertrand predicted with quiet certainty.

He'd never been so sure of anything in his life. It had all become clear to him as Cap had described the preparations Hindquist was making. “We might be able to best his human agents. And
Genie
might not be willing to go against us. But her children and her children's children will hunt us down. They will be
his
entirely, trained in the ways of cruelty and violence. They will be remorseless killers, with no memory of kinship to you or anyone other than AMOS itself.”

The others thought about this while Bertrand explained the situation to Ariel. Finally Cap spoke.
I still don't see why we have to rescue her. There is another way. We could migrate to some far off place. We don't have to stay here.

They'll track us down,
Einstein predicted.
There is no place in the world that will be safe in a few generations.

But think about how difficult a rescue will be!
Cap howled.
Think of the surveillance, the guards, the weapons we don't even know about.

I, for one, am ready to join in the mission,
Breeze volunteered.
What the boy and Einstein say is true. We can't leave Genie with Hindquist.

Me too,
Blizzard said, casting his vote from the Grove entrance, where he kept watch.

Bah!
Cap spat.

They all took this to mean he would join too, albeit under protest.

Hate! Hate! Hate!

Genie squirmed out of hiding and ran. Her siblings didn't deserve her loyalty or love, but still, to go ahead with her own scheme after overhearing their councils . . . how could she?

You must!
she snarled.

“The first casualty of war is truth, the next kindness, the last honour.” She remembered Hindquist's
Dictum of Engagement
.

“Best to dispense with all three of the false virtues before you go into battle. They put you at a decisive disadvantage.”

She hated him more than she hated herself, but that didn't weaken the force of his argument one bit.

“Of course, the common man has to be tricked into believing he's fighting for truth and honour,” Hindquist liked to tell her. “We know better: it's all about power, Genie. The sooner we give up the weak-kneed delusions used to fool the masses, the better. That's what makes a truly great leader: the will to win and the determination to keep clear of muddling emotions.”