The Fear In Yesterday's rings

It might have been wishful thinking, but in the second or two I had to evaluate distance, speed, and angles as the lobox rushed at me, it seemed to me that the animal was not moving with its former speed. Since I had not really hurt anything but its pride, I had to assume that its relative slowness represented a newfound uncertainty and lack of confidence on its part. It was a beginning, I thought as I leaped to my left at the same instant as the creature screamed, left its feet, and came flying through the air at my head. For one terrifying second I thought I had misjudged, and that its claws would tear off my right arm, but it missed-and I swung my sticks-on-a-chain, caught the lobox on its right flank. It yelped in pain, landed, screamed, and spun around to face me.

I smacked the sticks together again, took two quick steps toward the animal, stopped and crouched, ready. The lobox backed away a few feet, then abruptly stopped and stared at me.

'Come on, furball,' I said, banging the sticks together. 'Want to try again?'

It most certainly did want to try again. The creature suddenly sprang forward, its claws slipping in the dirt at its feet. It seemed even slower now-or I was gaining confidence. This time I was easily able to sidestep the animal's leap, and as it passed me in the air I swung a stick down hard on the top of its skull, then managed to whip the stick around again and catch it on a hind leg. The lobox yelped loudly. This time it stumbled when it landed. It went down, rolled over, got up.

But now its ruff was down.

'Come on,' I said, furiously clicking the sticks together. 'Come on!'

I inched forward, to within a yard, again crouched and waited.

Suddenly the beast seemed to collapse-or the front end of it seemed to collapse. It dropped the top of its head to the ground, pushed with its hind legs. Its rear end went up, and for a moment it balanced on its head, before toppling over on its side. It got up, once more appeared to try to stand on its head, toppled over. This time it didn't get up. It rolled over on its back, thrust all four legs stiffly into the air, and extended its head back, exposing its throat.

It was the damnedest thing I ever saw.

And then I remembered that I had seen it once before-or a depiction of a lobox trying to stand on its head, in the photograph Nate Button had shown me of one of the Lascaux paintings. Button had said that the painting had been done by a poor artist who had been unable to capture the terror Cro-Magnon felt before the lobox. Button had been wrong.

The Cro-Magnon artist had painted a lobox displaying a posture of submission.

Well, well, well.

I suppressed a nervous, near-hysterical giggle and backed off a few steps to ponder the meaning of it all. Behind and above me, from the direction of the silo, I heard the sound of clapping. I turned in that direction, using my peripheral vision to keep track of the supine lobox, looked up, and saw Harper standing at the edge of the vent halfway up the side of the silo.

'My hero!' Harper called.

'You did good, Mongo,' Garth said in a low voice that nevertheless carried clearly to me. I lowered my gaze, saw that Garth was standing next to Mabel just outside the open silo doors. 'You did real good.'

I waved my nunchaku sticks in their direction, resisting the impulse to make an elaborate bow. In fact, I knew that the real test of just what I had actually accomplished was yet to come, and I saw no sense in further delaying it. Without giving myself any more time to think about it, I unhesitatingly strode over to the lobox, which was still lying on its back with its legs thrust stiffly into the air, looked down into its golden eyes, which now seemed curiously veiled, clouded.

'Be careful, Mongo,' Garth continued in the same low tone. 'Don't press your luck.'

Very carefully, and also very gently, I touched the animal's rib cage with the end of one of my sticks. 'Up,' I said. I waited a few moments, then applied slightly more pressure. 'Up.'

Damned if it didn't get up, and stand with its great head slightly bowed. Up close, with things temporarily at a standstill, I was reminded of just how big this creature was; its shoulders were at a level with my head. Now, a single, even half-hearted swing of its great maw with its saber teeth would have stripped my face, and probably my head, away. And yet, suddenly, I was no longer afraid. I sensed what it sensed, that I was in control.

I gently applied pressure with the end of the stick to its hindquarters. 'Uh. . sit?'

Damned if it didn't sit.

'Bravo, Robby!' Harper shouted from her perch, clapping furiously. 'You've done it! He's yours!'

'Garth!' I shouted over my shoulder. 'Bring me a rope, will you?! Make it a long one!'

'No need to shout, Mongo. I'm right behind you.'

His voice was so close that it startled me. 'You've got balls, brother,' I mumbled.

'Not as big as yours, brother.'

I tentatively reached out, laid my hand on the lobox's flank. It didn't move.

'I was about to tell you to throw me the rope, so that you wouldn't have to get too close. What the hell do you think you're doing? This thing and I are just getting to know each other.'

'Oh, it looks to me like you've got the situation well in hand,' Garth said casually. 'With Mongo the Magnificent on its case, what chance did this poor, dumb beast ever really have? I just wanted to get a close-up view of the fruits of your labors.'

'Yeah, well, I don't want you to get lazy on me now. I still need you to bring me a rope.'

'Why? There's no need to tie it up.'

'I don't plan to tie it up. The rope is to use as a leash.'

'I'll be right back,' Garth said, and started walking toward the silo.

As Garth, with Mabel patting him on the back with her trunk, disappeared inside the silo, Harper suddenly cried out in alarm.

'Robby, there's somebody coming! It looks like one of those big circus trucks!'

Chapter Twelve

It turned out to be one of the huge circus semis. It took it a while to wend its way through the grain elevator complex, but it certainly wasn't difficult to follow Mabel's and the lobox's tracks in the dirt and dust to the triple silo site. The semi came around a building, turned toward us, and then made another tight turn, finally coming to a stop seventy-five yards away with a squeal and hiss of air brakes. I was surprised to see the semi; I had expected cars or jeeps, with perhaps a spotter plane leading the way, and a small army of men with guns.

The door of the dusty cab opened, and Luther, dressed in brown leather pants and boots, and a leather jacket with long fringes, got out. He looked like Buffalo Bill with a shaved head, and he appeared to be alone-which was my second surprise. I had hoped to bluff my potential killers into simply taking me captive, but Luther didn't look in the mood to take prisoners. There was an air of desperation about him. He was wearing his Magnum in a holster strapped to his side, and he carried a Smith amp; Wesson 30–06 pump action rifle with a ten-round clip. He'd obviously come loaded for elephant as well as dwarf.

Luther slowly walked toward me, then stopped when he was about twenty yards away from where I sat perched cross-legged on top of Mabel's head, in front of the open double doors to the silo. He glanced to his right, toward the lobox, which was back lying on its patch of grass perhaps fifteen yards away, with its red tongue lolling out between its saber teeth, looking thoroughly inscrutable. Having no reason not to believe that the lobox was still patiently waiting for a chance to tear me up into bite-size morsels, Luther simply rested his hand on the holstered Magnum, but did not draw it. Then he turned his attention back to me.

'I wish I had agreed to sell you the circus, Frederickson,' he said evenly.

I reached out and scratched Mabel's head. 'You and me both, Luther. If you had, Nate Button would still be alive.'

'As would my father. Being crushed under the feet of an elephant is not a pleasant way to die.'

'If you and your father hadn't decided to field-test your assassination weapon on humans, a number of people would still be alive. Being torn apart by one of these fellows you people brought back from extinction can't be any picnic either.'

The animal trainer nodded slightly. 'We stayed too long. I had argued for some time that the animal had been