Balook Page 14

  While Thor had slept, Balook had lost.

  Now Barb saw the completed statue in wax, standing there so proudly. "It's beautiful!" she breathed—then sank down, sobbing.

  Thor got up and put his arms around her, trying to comfort her. But it was a hollow effort. They both knew that Balook was done for.

  Then Thor's eye fell again on the statue of Balook. It seemed to waver. Was he going back into his dream?

  No, it was just a reminder of the revelation he had suffered during that vision. Maybe there was still a chance!

  "Barb," he said into her fluffy hair.

  She lifted her tear-wet face. "I'm sorry; I shouldn't have—"

  "I have a crazy notion."

  She paused, considering. "Not here. Not now."

  That made him pause. What was she thinking of? "A way to save Balook."

  "How I wish!" she said fervently. "But I just don't see how."

  "Balook showed me, in a dream. Only they decided against him too fast. But maybe it will work anyway. Can you get Twild to get a stay of execution?"

  "I can try. But what—"

  "I'd better not tell you. I don't want you to get in trouble if it doesn't work. But you can help. I'm locked up here, but you aren't."

  "Do you really have a way?" she asked, daring to hope.

  "I think so. It's wild and bold, but it might work. First I'll need a map—"

  "A map of what?"

  Thor did some fast thinking, his options expanding. "Maps of everything! An atlas!"

  "An atlas! What does that have to do with saving Balook?"

  "Everything, maybe! And a telephone."

  "They'll monitor any calls you make, and intercept anything long distance," she warned.

  "Local is fine. And some research. Or a book on electro-magnetic waves."

  "Are you teasing me?" she demanded.

  "No, honest! It all connects. But we've got to act immediately."

  "I'll do what I can," she said, looking doubtful.

  In a few minutes she fetched him a telephone and the first map she could find: one of the local county, including an expanded street directory of Eagle Stream. It was useless for his purpose, but he thanked her anyway. "But if you can find an atlas too—and the information on—"

  "I'll try, Thor," she said, perplexed. She departed again.

  Thor checked his watch. It was noon; he had slept the night, and had not yet eaten, but wasn't hungry. If this only worked!

  He turned on the phone. "The power company," he said.

  The screen flickered. Then a plush front office showed. "May I help you?" the decorative secretary inquired dulcetly.

  "I'd like to talk to the president of the company, please," Thor said.

  She did not crack a smile. "Do you have an appointment?"

  "No, I'm just calling in."

  "I am sorry, but Mr. Turrell requires an appointment. I can make one for you—" she checked her listings "—next Thursday at eleven fifteen. Will that be suitable? If you will give me your name and the nature of your business—"

  "That's too late!" Thor protested. "I need to talk to him now!"

  She frowned. "Is it an emergency?"

  "Yes! It's a matter of life and death!"

  "In that case perhaps an exception can be made. Now your name is—"

  "Thor Nemmen. It's about Balook. The Baluchitherium who's on trial."

  "Yes, I have seen that on the news," she agreed. "But surely you realize that Mr. Turrell has no business with—"

  "Please, just let me talk to him. He can save Balook's life!"

  Her mouth tightened, but her voice remained calm. "I shall query his office." There was a brief pause; then she said: "Mr. Nemmen wishes to speak with you now, Mr. Turrell. He has no appointment. It's about the big animal that's been in the news; he says you can save its life."

  The response was so vehement that even Thor could hear it, though it was not on his line. "That animal tore up our corridor! Thousand dollars' worth of damage! Deserves to be put away! Don't bother me again with such nonsense!"

  The woman glanced up at Thor. "I am sorry; Mr. Turrell declines to speak with you. Have a nice day." She faded from the screen.

  Stunned, Thor turned off the phone. He had put all his hopes on this contact, and it had soured before it started. What was he to do now?

  He gazed at his statue of Balook. Again it wavered, as if trying to come to life. It would not let him give up.

  He knew, intellectually, that he had worked so long without sleep that he remained behind, even after the night. His fatigue was making his vision blur, and probably distorting his judgment too. Even so, that statue compelled him. He had to act!

  So the president of the power company wouldn't talk to him. What he needed to do was go there in person and barge into the man's office and make him listen! But it was folly to think he could do that; he couldn't even get out of this room without being challenged; the judge was keeping him confined until the business was done, and the business was the destruction of Balook. Of the tiny Miocene Epoch enclave in the contemporary world.

  He looked at the only other thing he had. The map of the county. It, too, wavered. Then he saw how he could use it.

  He spread it out and pored over it, tracing the route of the power line corridor. Yes—there was where Balook had foraged, before the pursuit caught up. And there was the power company, well out of town but within the county boundaries. The line passed through it, skirted the town, and went on to the next county. It was part of a grid that covered the continent. Each local company produced its own electricity, but all were linked, so that if one or several failed, the power came across from the others. Thus the local company could drop offline, and the power was never interrupted. In that sense, the connecting lines were more important than the company. That was what he counted on.

  He focused on the town. Here was the court building, and here was the building in which he himself was being held prisoner. They didn't call it that, of course; he wasn't under arrest, just in protective custody. But they would not let him out until too late.

  He checked another region. Here was the compound where Balook and Theria and Blooky were being held. It was a thickly wooded region outside of town, which was just as well, because they had to let the rhinos feed, and they could destroy trees in short order if there were not enough of them available. That was part of what the townsmen had against Balook: the damage to local trees. Thor couldn't really blame them for that. But if that fool capering brat had not started it all, the rhinos would have been through the town and gone without significant damage to the local foliage.

  He continued to pore over the map, virtually memorizing the key aspects of it. Instead of being useless, this was now exactly what he needed!

  Barb returned. "I couldn't get a book on electro-magnetism, but here's an atlas," she said. "Now will you tell me exactly what you are going to do with it?"

  "No. It's not safe for you to know. But you can go to the library and look up the information there. Did you get the stay of execution?"

  "Twild says he's appealing the decision, because the jury was biased. Remember, the judge overruled him on the matter of killing animals. That's why he didn't take it hard at the time; he knew he could use it to challenge the legitimacy of the trial if he lost. He's a lot sharper than we thought. So the execution's on hold until there's a decision on the appeal; if they turn it down, then Balook's done for, but Twild says it should keep things in stasis for several days. Is that enough?"

  "Should be, if my notion works. If it doesn't, then no time's enough. How fast can you get the electromagnetic information? I don't need everything, just the health hazards of the waves."

  "Thor, if you'd only tell me why—"

  "I don't dare, Barb. I want to keep you innocent, so you can honestly tell them you had no idea what I had in mind. That should keep you out of jail."

  "Thor Nemmen!" she exclaimed indignantly. "If you're going to do something that g
ets you in jail, I want to be with you!"

  "That would be fun, but I don't think they'd allow it. Anyway, you need to be with Theria and Blooky, if—"

  The reminder struck her visibly. She looked as if she were about to cry, but she headed it off by grabbing his head and kissing him savagely instead. Then she hurried out.

  Thor thought to use the phone to order himself a lunch. His appetite was returning. If he was as busy as he thought he might be, he wanted to be well fortified.

  While waiting for it to arrive, he sauntered to the window and looked out. He made it seem casual, because it occurred to him that he might be under observation.

  The window was fastened by a simple clasp. He opened it, and the breeze wafted in. He glanced down.

  He felt dizzy. He was on the fourth storey, and the face of the building was completely blank except for the other windows—and all of them were closed, and set flush with the wall. There was no way for him to climb down, or even to scramble to another window. If he tried, he would fall to the concrete below, which was a good ten meters. So much for his notion of escape by that route!

  But he knew he would not be able to do it by the door either. There would be laser guards set across it, or across the hall outside, invisible but certain to trigger the alarm.

  Well, as long as the stay remained on Balook's execution, he could afford to bide his time. Maybe he would find some other way to escape.

  He closed the window and returned to the map and statue. Then his meal arrived. He and the statue studied the map again while he ate. Then he got into the atlas, tracing the routes of the power lines that crisscrossed the continent. They were everywhere; there must be hundreds of thousands of kilometers of lines. That was excellent for his purpose.

  Late in the day Barb returned. "I got some information on the electromagnetism," she said. "But Twild says the appeal may be decided much faster than usual, because of the notoriety of this case. It could be denied tomorrow."

  "They're so eager to kill an innocent animal!" Thor said.

  "Your crazy notion," she said urgently. "How can I help?"

  Thor realized that he would have to tell her, at least partially. "I didn't want to involve you. I—I have to get to talk to the president of the power company. He can save Balook, if he wants to, and I think he'll want to, if I can only get him to listen. But he won't talk to me by phone. So I have to get there, brace him personally so he can't hang up. That means I've got to make a jailbreak. If you can find a way to turn off the laser alarms tonight—"

  "I don't think I can, Thor. I don't know anything about electronics, except what I learned in the library today. There is a health hazard, but the power companies cover it up—"

  "That's what I thought. That's what I'm counting on."

  "Counting on!" she exclaimed indignantly. "What on earth are you talking about?"

  "It won't count for anything if I can't get out of here! Isn't there some way?"

  She became thoughtful. She walked to the window and looked out. "Maybe there is."

  "I can't climb down from the window," he said. "Even if I hung a sheet out and climbed down it, I'd still be way too high for a safe fall. But if you could get me a long, strong rope—"

  "I'll see," she said. "Keep alert after dark."

  "What do you—?"

  "I'd rather keep you innocent, so you can say you didn't know about it," she said, smiling wickedly.

  "But I've got to know, so—"

  She cut him off with a kiss. Then she left.

  Thor stifled his mixed emotions. After all, she was only doing back to him what he was doing to her. Tit for tat.

  He could not settle down to rest, so he made the assumption that he would get out, and rehearsed his actions and speech once he got to the power company. He would probably have to go there on foot, as there might be an alert out for his borrowed bike. That way he could hide better. Then, in the morning, he could sneak into the president's office and catch him there. The man would not be eager to listen, so Thor's case had to be good. It was good, but his presentation had to bring out its potential. He would have to capture Mr. Turrell's attention at the outset, and hold it until the logic registered. Until the man saw how the Miocene related to modern times. Balook's life depended on it.

  POWER

  10

  AN HOUR AFTER dark, he heard a commotion outside. There was distant shouting, and the sound of vehicles accelerating, and a kind of crashing. What was going on?

  A distraction, he realized. Barb must have arranged something, so that no one would notice when he went out the door, triggering the alarms!

  He hurried to the door—and found it locked. They were taking no chances with him! How could he open it before the distraction faded? He had no tools, and the door was too solid for him to break down barehanded. Desperately he cast about; his gaze passed the window—

  And saw a familiar shape in the mixed night lights of the town. Balook!

  He dashed to the window and opened it. Balook was coming down the street, looming high in silhouette against the lighted windows of other buildings. What a sight that was—like a nightmare, only the monster of the night was his friend, and he was the monster's friend. Barb had broken him out, and now Balook was coming to break Thor out; that was her secret strategy!

  But he couldn't get through that door! Was it all to be wasted? And what would happen when the townsmen rallied from their surprise and organized an effective pursuit? There was no way they could escape cleanly and be free.

  He stared out the window, his emotions warring with each other. Part of him wished that this total foolishness could somehow work, and save them all. The rest knew it was disaster that could put all of them in deeper trouble than before. How could Barb have acted so rashly? She really wasn't the type!

  No, obviously she was the type, for here was Balook. She was a lot like Thor himself, temperamental, yielding to the passion of the moment, willing to undertake desperate measures when the life of one she loved was threatened. She was the only other living person who cared about the Baluchitheria the way Thor did. He understood that aspect of her perfectly. But that meant that she could get into just as much trouble as he. They really could both wind up in prison—but probably not in the same cell.

  Balook was charging on during Thor's amazed ponderings; the great rhino was at home in the darkness. He came up to the building, his head reaching up almost to Thor's level. "Balook!" Thor cried, heedless of all else in his joy at this momentary reunion with his friend.

  There was noise behind him. Someone was at the door, still locked. Friend or foe?

  Now a second rhino came up. Theria—with Barb aboard. "Thor!" she cried. "Mount! Mount!"

  "But—" he protested, appalled. How could he—?

  The door opened. Men jammed into the room.

  "Here!" Thor called to Balook. "Reach here!"

  Balook's head came up, seeking the familiar voice. Now it was only a meter below the level of Thor's floor. Thor scrambled out the window, hung on, let his feet dangle, then dropped.

  He landed on Balook's massive head. The head lowered with the added weight, but was in no trouble. Thor scrambled to catch hold of folds of skin, and then backed down the neck to the solid shoulder. Now he was ready to ride!

  "Lead the way!" Barb called. Her hair was flaring wildly as she rode Theria; she looked primitive and lovely.

  Thor kicked Balook, directing him down the appropriate street. The map was clear in his head; he could take them right to the power station. It had to be fast, before the townsmen rallied. Balook was fresh, having recovered during the trial, and ready to run.

  They charged through the town, avoiding those few cars and bicycles that were abroad. Soon they were in the country, the wind gusting past. There seemed to be no organized pursuit, only the lights of a few cars that remained a discreet distance behind. Perhaps they were only tracking the rhinos, so that a party could close in on them by day.

  Well, he cou
ld take care of that. Once they got clear of the suburb, they could leave the road and cut through a forested region. The cars would have trouble following there.

  They coursed on through the diminishing settlement. Trees became more common. Balook seemed to understand that his life was at stake; he did not pause to snatch foliage, and maintained a swift pace, his feet handling the darkness well. Theria followed, with Blooky scrambling to keep up. It was like old times, except that times never had been like this, charging through the night as a family.

  How had Barb broken them out? She must have opened the gates, then led the way with Theria, and by the time the authorities caught on, it was too late. Who would have suspected Barb of such a thing? Thor felt a warm surge of feeling; she was certainly the girl for him!

  But first he had to do his part, and that was no easy thing. His strategy was a desperation ploy, and not just because of this second breakout of the rhinos.

  Balook's ears perked. There was something ahead. Had the police set up a roadblock?

  Then Thor saw it: a tiny figure standing in the road. A child! That was all they needed: another mischievous brat, like the one that had started all this. "Get out of the way!" Thor yelled.

  But the child remained unmoving, even as Balook approached and came to a halt, looming tremendously over. It was a boy of about five years, in pajamas, standing with his arms outspread and his eyes screwed tightly shut. He looked terrified.

  Theria drew up beside Balook. "What's a child doing out here alone at night?" Barb called.

  "He must be lost," Thor called back.

  "We can't just leave him here!"

  "We can't just pick him up and take him along, either!"

  Then Blooky, curious, moved forward. He had been petted by many children recently, and had lost his shyness with them. He sniffed the boy, then nuzzled him, hoping for a biscuit.

  The boy jumped and opened his eyes. He stared at Blooky. Then, hesitantly, he reached out to pet the baby rhino on the nose.

  Meanwhile, Thor was dismounting. Balook lowered his head, and Thor slid down his neck in the fashion of a banister, and finally across his broad nose and to the ground. "Who are you?" he demanded of the boy. "What are you doing here?"