The Fear In Yesterday's rings

'Mongo, what the hell are you talking about?'

'Go take care of your toilette, and I'll tell you when you finish. I'll meet you at the water tap.'

Garth shook his head. 'I don't have any toilette to take care of now; you've shocked the piss out of me. I want you to explain to me now why you can piss anywhere you want to in Nebraska, but Harper and I can't.'

'Nobody, with the possible exception of Luther Zelezian, knows a whole damn lot about lobox behavior, except for what we've already observed. I'm assuming that loboxes passed on some of their natural traits to their modern heirs-dogs and wolves. I'm playing wolf. I'm marking out my territory, challenging that guy down there.'

'By pissing on him?' Garth asked incredulously.

'It's a beginning. In order to work with large, dangerous animals, you have to understand a few things. The first and most important thing you have to understand is that they're not people, as cute, friendly, or otherwise human as they may seem.

You can never get them to do anything by trying to make friends with them, because they can't be your friend-at least not in the way we think of friends. One way or another, the animal must be dominated; it must be made to know that you're the boss, and that the shit's going to hit the fan if it doesn't do what you want it to do. There are a number of ways of accomplishing that end. The best way is to combine certain training techniques with lots of affection and respect. Or you can simply instill fear-beat the shit out of the animal, and hope you don't break its spirit.'

'Like you do with Mabel?'

'No,' I said, shaking my head. 'I can't hurt Mabel. I told you. She only thinks I'm beating the shit out of her, and that's usually enough.'

'I thought you were kidding me.'

'No. Mabel's a special case. Some animals-African elephants among them-are almost never successfully trained or domesticated. Zebras are another good example. But with any animal, if you can establish close contact with it from the moment it's born, it becomes an enormous advantage. There's a phenomenon called imprinting. I didn't have Mabel when she was born, but I did get her when she was desperately sick, close to death. She was helpless, which is almost as good from a trainer's standpoint. I nursed her back to health, and she came to see me as care giver, provider of food, and so on. No matter how big she got after that, she would never really perceive me as small, as a dwarf. I was always her master-as much of a master as African elephants ever have. There are researchers who would even claim that she thinks I'm her mother.'

'Now you're kidding me.'

'The fact that you keep thinking I'm kidding you when I tell you how animals think and behave is the reason I can piss on this part of Nebraska and you can't. Luther has already imprinted this lobox and any others he may have around. Even though we don't know that much about loboxes, I think it's safe to assume I'd never be able to break into that brain circuiting-say, to try for affection-and so there's no sense in wasting time we don't have. If I'm going to wrest control of the lobox away from Luther, I have to break into another circuit in the animal's brain, in a manner of speaking. Luther dominates it on Luther's terms; the only chance I have is to dominate it on lobox terms. In short, I have to convince it that I'm leader of the pack, which is why I've been using my urine to mark off my territory. That's why I don't want you pissing out there, okay? I've been serving notice that he'd better watch his hairy ass if he keeps trying to mess with me.'

'No more Mr. Nice Guy?'

'No more Mr. Nice Guy.'

'You're crazy, Mongo. You plan to just keep pissing at him?'

'Nope. Like I said, that's just the first step. I think there are some factors in our favor. First, it's very smart, so it shouldn't take too long to discover whether or not I'm wasting my time. It actually seems to be able to comprehend its own existence and the possibility of death, so it can be intimidated-I think-if I can find the right buttons to push. I shot it; it knows I shot it, and that's good.'

Garth slowly shook his head. 'You don't have a gun now; it probably knows you don't have a gun now, and that's bad.'

'I think it's safe to assume that I'm the first victim it's been primed for that it hasn't succeeded in killing. The lobox that ran with it was primed for Harper, didn't succeed in killing her, and was killed itself, by Harper. It will assume Harper is my mate-and only the leader of the pack could have such a powerful mate. Are you following all this?'

Garth grunted, laid a hand on my shoulder, and squeezed it affectionately. 'I'm not the audience you have to convince, Mongo.'

I was again getting an urgent call from nature. I stepped back to the edge of the vent, looked down. The lobox was still there, in the same position. I took the hickory trapeze bar, which I carried everywhere with me, rapped it hard a few times against the side of the silo, then shook it at the lobox. The lobox seemed singularly unimpressed. I rested the bar against the wall, again reached for my fly.

Garth continued, 'What are you planning to do after you mark off your territory?'

I looked back over my shoulder at my brother, grinned. 'Why, then I'm going to beat the shit out of it, naturally.'

Garth the handyman had done a good job, and now that I had decided what had to be done, I was anxious to get on with it. I felt we were as prepared as we were ever going to be.

Using the tools and materials strewn around the complex, Garth had, among other things, transformed my trapeze bar into nunchaku sticks by sawing the hickory length in half and joining the two pieces with a six-inch length of chain secured to one end of each separate stick by a wood screw. It had been a long time since I'd practiced with nunchakus, and I hoped my martial arts skills weren't as rusted as the chain that held them together. Assuming I could use the sticks and chain properly, the speed and striking power of the weapon I now held in my hands was greater by at least a factor of five than the unaltered trapeze bar alone.

In my pocket was a padlock I had found in a dusty corner and picked up when Garth and Harper had been looking the other way. The lock was broken, rusted open, but I thought it was sufficient to do the job for which I needed it. I hadn't been totally candid with Garth and Harper as to why I wanted my trapeze bar transformed into nunchakus, since the argument that would have ensued would only have wasted time, and I was trusting to the padlock to prevent any arguments or wasted time in the future.

All during the preparations, we had taken turns standing at the vents, watching the sky, the surrounding landscape, the horizon. We had seen crop-dusting planes and trucks speeding on a highway far in the distance, but that was all. Most of the time the skies and surrounding countryside remained empty, and the lack of any kind of pursuit on the part of Luther Zelezian and his backers was becoming quite a mystery.

Not that it really made much difference, since the job ahead of us was more than enough to command our full attention.

Finally, we were ready. Garth and Harper stepped back into the tunnel that connected the first and second silos, positioned themselves on either side of the doorway. I walked across the silo to Mabel, who was standing near the double doors, using her vacuum cleaner of a trunk to idly pick through the grain on the floor. I stroked her trunk, then gently tapped her left tusk with one of my sticks. 'Back, baby. Get back. I don't want you to intimidate our guest. Come on, now. Be a good girl.'

Mabel dutifully backed away to the opposite wall of the silo. I went to the double doors, loosened the chain holding them closed, opened one a crack, and peered out. The lobox was lying on a patch of grass perhaps twenty- five yards away, off to the right. As always alert to my comings and goings, it immediately got to its feet, pricked up its ears, and stared intently at the small opening between the doors.

'Robby, please be careful!' Harper called after me.

Garth said, 'Careful, Mongo.'

Making as little noise as I could, I unwrapped the length of chain from the wooden pegs on each door. Then I took a deep breath and yanked the door on the right open at the same time as I spun around and sprinted toward the doorway on the opposite side of the silo. I wasn't about to break stride to look back over my shoulder, but I could imagine the lobox's virtually instantaneous reaction as it sprang forward, its legs churning, its body flattening