Buffalito Bundle

by Lawrence M. Schoen

  “It occurs to me that I could use a security expert.”

  “I won’t be party to theft,” he said.

  “What if I gave you my word that the Arconi saw me take both doggies onboard ship, that I presented myself to their customs authority and satisfied all their concerns, for both animals.”

  Mandelbrot grimaced. “Can you prove that?”

  “I’ll repeat everything I’ve just said in front of the Arconi consul if need be. Will that satisfy you?”

  He looked over his shoulder then, though whether at the customs agents, Andrews, or his assistant I couldn’t tell. Then he offered me his hand to shake. “Well, Conroy, as it happens, I’m available at the moment. But you’re going to need to acquire a vehicle for us. I think my access to Wada transportation is at an end.”

  At a little before one o’clock I sat in the passenger seat of a aerosled rental at the far edge of the remote parking lot of ChocoWorld, about twenty minutes west of the Hershey Extrasolar Landing Field. It seemed an odd place for a spaceport to me, but alien demand for milk chocolate had re-energized the place, and the population of the greater Hershey area now surpassed both Pittsburgh and Philadelphia. Mandelbrot sat up front with me while Carla Espinoza glared at us from inside her crate on the backseat. A mild electric current ran through the crate’s bars, providing enough incentive to keep the buffalo dog from eating her way out from mere spite.

  While waiting at the rental counter, Mandelbrot had worked out an arrangement based on our assessments of one another. I knew he was basically a cop, regardless of what job title he held, meaning that for him it all came down to structure. That kind of personality needs the universe to exist according to an ordered plan with a finite system of rules. Which went a long way to explaining why he had only contempt for lawyers like Andrews who bent the rules with technicalities, and then bent them back as it suited their purposes. I, on the other hand, was just a fellow who’d maneuvered himself between the cracks in the system, thereby revealing a whole new level of rules that Mandelbrot had never seen. That was enough to pique his curiosity and cause him to side with me. I could trust him, which is more than he probably thought of me.

  “What’s the plan, Conroy?”

  “First, I need to get to some place secure.”

  “You’re worried that the suits at Wada are going to try and put in a claim on this buffalo dog? You shouldn’t. You’ve got the paperwork showing she’s yours.”

  I shook my head. “No, that’s not it.” I stopped, looked away, and then looked at Carla chewing on a double handful of rocks I’d tossed into her crate. “What do you know about dream trackers?”

  “The telepaths? They’re nuts, mostly. All that time mucking around in people’s dreams unhinges them. But they get the job done. The Feds brought one in once on a kidnapping case back when I was sheriff. Why?”

  “I’ve got one after me,” I said. “Gregor’s not just crazy, he’s a psychotic killer, and he thinks I owe him over two million credits.”

  “You’ve only been back on Earth a few hours; how does he know you’re here?”

  “My name popped up on a passenger list. He showed up in my dreams this morning. He’s coming for his money at noon tomorrow, and if I don’t have it, he’s going to rip my arms off.”

  “Literally?”

  “Oh yeah.”

  “So get him his money.” Mandelbrot glanced to the backseat. “You could sell that buffalito to Wada for ten million.”

  I sighed, gave Mandelbrot a long look and prayed that I hadn’t misjudged him. “This isn’t your typical buffalo dog. She’s special.”

  “Special?” Mandelbrot’s face lit up. It was like he was already wondering what new rules might apply. “Special in what way?”

  “She’s pregnant.”

  He gasped at that and stared at little Carla Espinoza with a whole world of respect on his face. Carla must have felt that look because she lifted her head, let a chunk of rock slip from her jaws, and barked at him.

  “Conroy, the Arconi don’t permit fertile buffalo dogs to leave Gibrahl.”

  “Yeah, well, they don’t normally allow couriers to leave with more than one buffalito either. I figured if I was going to be accused of smuggling, I might as well do it right.”

  “So you stole a pregnant buffalito?”

  “She wasn’t pregnant at the time. Reggie took care of that en route.”

  “Reggie?”

  “The other buffalo dog. The one I was hired to bring for the Wada Consortium. But you see why I can’t just sell her. She represents a lot more than ten million credits. I need to stall Gregor, keep him from ripping my arms off until Carla has her pups and I can sell one.”

  Mandelbrot frowned. “You’ve got another problem. Wada could claim ownership of some of the pups on the basis of paternity.”

  I nodded. “Great. More people tracking me down.”

  “I can help you with Wada,” he said. “You just need to hole up some place secure. As for your dream tracker, he can’t directly find you while you’re awake, that’s not how it works. He’ll be forced to track you by finding reference to you in other people’s recent unconscious. Probably other couriers that you met onboard ship.”

  “So, he’s likely to locate me because he’ll see me in your dreams?”

  Mandelbrot nodded, “Me, my former security force, the people from Wada, and the customs agents. Any of us can give you up. Which is why we need to get physically away from here, and why neither of us is going to sleep any time soon.”

  “That will only buy me a little time; we can’t stay awake forever. I need to give Gregor some false trails.”

  “False trails? How are you going to do that?” Mandelbrot glared at me like I was either insane or just plain stupid. “You can’t parade around with your buffalo dog, Conroy, that will just be more people telling him where you are.”

  “I’ve got something a bit subtler in mind. We need to get to Philadelphia, the sooner the better.”

  “What’s in Philly?” said Mandelbrot.

  “An old friend who should be able to help me; he owes me a favor.”

  “I’m not your friend, Conroy,” said Leo Baskins. “And I don’t owe you any favors.”

  It started out well. The balding man in his overpriced suit had greeted me with a hearty two-handed shake and a smile on his poreless face. Thirty seconds later and he was steering me to the exit.

  “I’m not asking for a favor, Leo, just the opposite. I’m offering to do one for you. A quick show in your platinum members’ lounge at the shuttleport, a bit of ‘memory improvement’ for business travelers.”

  “You’ve been black-listed by your own guild, Conroy. I couldn’t hire you to do a show even if I wanted to, and I don’t want to.”

  “Leo, Leo, please, this is me you’re talking to. I never said anything about you hiring me to do a show. This is a freebie. I just want to try out a new routine. You’re right, I can’t do my old act until the entertainment guild reinstates me, so I’m trying out a bit of hypnotic self-improvement for white-collar commuters. I need a captive audience, one where if I bomb it won’t get out. I’m not asking you to put me in as a headliner at one of your nightclubs, Leo, we’re talking about one gig, half an hour before any of the evening commuter shuttles to Asia start to board. Help me out, for old times’ sake.”

  I watched his eyes. In my business you learn how to tell a lot about what a person is thinking by their eyes. And I knew Leo. I knew he knew I wasn’t telling him everything. And I knew he was trying to find a way to make a buck off of me along the way.

  “Suppose I let you do your bit in my lounge. Is it just a practice run, or is it a tease and you’re hoping to hook some fish?”

  I put on my best hang-dog expression. It wasn’t hard, I was tired from driving across eastern Pennsylvania. Mandelbrot had taken Carla Espinoza and gone off in the rental in search of what he called a ‘safe house’. That left me to solve my dream tracker problem, and for tha
t I needed Leo. “Okay, you got me. I’m serious about the act, but my plan is to sell some of these guys on a series of ‘private training sessions’ and work them for some snowballs into other clients.”

  “I want a cut,” he said.

  Same old Leo. “How much? Remember, you’re just providing the venue, Leo, I’m doing all the work.”

  “The venue, and the marks. I want fifty percent of anything you get from ‘clients’ you sign from the lounge, and twenty percent from the next generation of marks they lead you to.”

  “Leo, you’re killing me. I just got back Earthside and I’ve got debts to pay. I need cash in hand now. Take thirty off the lounge, and I’ll give you twenty for the first two generations they give. Do we have a deal?”

  He smiled and checked his watch. “It’s four o’clock now. I’ll call the site manager at the lounge and tell him to expect you within the hour.”

  “Ladies and Gentlemen, I realize you weren’t expecting any entertainment while waiting for your flights, certainly not more than a little piano music, but Excelsior Shuttles knows you have a choice when it comes to business travel, and is going the extra distance to help you do the same. I’m the Amazing Conroy and I’m going to show you how you can improve your ability to remember names and faces, dates and data, immediately and effortlessly through the power of hypnosis. And I promise to do that for each and every one of you before they announce boarding for any of your respective flights. Now, can I have some volunteers...”

  Two hours later Mandelbrot picked me up and took me to a nondescript row house on an anonymous street in northeast Philadelphia. I was pleased to see that he’d been busy; the house’s living room looked ordinary, but the bedroom beyond it was something altogether different. Mandelbrot had turned it into a command center with video surveillance monitors, motion sensors, and booby traps on the doors and windows. He’d also set up a pile of scrap metal alongside Carla’s crate. Unlike the buffalo dog, neither of us had eaten all day. We hit a drive-through on the way back to the safe house and prepared a feast of Philadelphia’s finest. Carla consumed a lead pipe and then hunkered down for a nap. Mandelbrot and I sat across from the security monitors and ate hoagies and cheese fries.

  “Mission accomplished,” I said. “There are thirty people on their way to ten different cities in Japan, Taiwan, China, and Korea. In addition to having some handy mnemonic aids to boost their business skills, they’re all going to dream of me standing in front of them and telling them about my epic experience as a buffalo dog courier.”

  Mandelbrot gawked around a mouthful of sandwich. “You can do that?”

  I laughed. “It wasn’t all that different from what I’d do during one of my shows. But that should throw off Gregor, at least until Carla here starts popping out pups. So, what’s next?”

  Before he could answer, several different alarms began pinging and beeping. Mandelbrot was on his feet, a hefty stun baton in hand.

  The monitors showed a view of the front door and the walkway leading to it. A young Asian woman in a burgundy jumpsuit had just rung our doorbell. I recognized her as the woman who had handed me my payment chit, though she’d changed clothes and her hairstyle.

  “Scan says she’s clean,” said Mandelbrot. “No weapons, no electronics, no gear of any sort.” He fiddled with a few more controls. “There’s a single vehicle outside, still warm from use but otherwise empty. Sensors aren’t picking up anyone else. She’s all alone.”

  “Let’s see what she wants.”

  He scowled. “Let’s see how she found you,” he said, and left the bedroom to go open the door. I watched him come into view on the monitor. He opened the door, his baton at the ready.

  “Can I help you?”

  “I’m here to see Mr. Conroy,” she said. “I’m from the Wada Consortium. Or rather, I was with Wada. But that’s over. Please, you have to let me speak to him, I have information he needs.”

  “Inside,” he said, gesturing with the baton, and gripping her upper arm as she stepped inside. I left the bedroom and met them just as Mandelbrot closed the front door.

  “Do you have a name, miss?” I asked.

  “I’m Dr. Lisa Penrose, and I’m here to help you with your pregnant buffalo dog.”

  Mandelbrot impressed me by not showing any surprise, and I made a mental note not to play poker with him any time soon. As for me, years of hypnotizing people into believing outrageous things had long since taught me to keep my face from giving anything away. If Lisa Penrose had been hoping for a reaction she didn’t get one. “Wherever did you get the idea that I have a pregnant buffalo dog?”

  “From my sister. She’s a resource acquisitions attorney for the Wada Consortium. I believe you may have seen her this morning when you cleared customs? She was on site to assist with paperwork.”

  “Twin sister?” said Mandelbrot, eyeing her suspiciously.

  “Triplets, actually. But that’s not important.”

  “And you work for Wada as well?”

  “That’s part of what why I’m here,” she said. “Did you know the Arconi had alerted Earth authorities about a possible undocumented buffalo dog that was unaccounted for? They sent out complete parameters on her.”

  “And the point of this is...”

  “Your second buffalito was fully documented, Mr. Conroy, and both heavier and larger than the one the Arconi misplaced, which meant either it was a different animal all together, or that she was pregnant. And given that she was your second buffalo dog, and not the one you turned over to the Wada Consortium, my sister came to the logical conclusion and called me. I came here at once.”

  “Do you always talk that rapidly?” I asked. She’d managed it all on one breath. “Never mind. Uh, look, Miss Penrose—”

  “Dr. Penrose.”

  “Sorry, Doctor Penrose, I think you’re making a big deal out of nothing. Carla isn’t pregnant. She’s just fat. There wasn’t much else for her to do on the trip to Earth other than eat. She put on some weight; that doesn’t make her pregnant.”

  “Mr. Conroy, I’m a psychologist. And by that I want you to understand that I’m not a clinician, I’m a behavioral scientist. I specialize in the behavior of certain alien animals, among them Arconi buffalo dogs. Believe me when I tell you that while some buffalo dogs have been known to get plump or pudgy, it is physiologically impossible for them to get fat. Your buffalo dog is the only one unaccounted for by the Arconi, and she’s very much pregnant. You know it, and I know it. The Wada Consortium doesn’t know it yet, but they’ll figure it out soon.”

  Mandelbrot broke his silence. “So you’ve come to stake some kind of claim on Carla’s pups for them?”

  She shook her head. “They don’t know I’m here. Neither my sister nor I shared our conclusions, but someone will work it out, eventually, and pass word up the chain of command. I can help you, Mr. Conroy, with things that haven’t even occurred to you.”

  I glanced up at Mandelbrot but the look on his face showed he didn’t have a clue what she was talking about either.

  “And what things are these?” I said.

  She began ticking items off on her fingers as she spoke. “What do you know about buffalo dogs, Mr. Conroy? Particularly pregnant ones? Do you have any idea how soon her labor begins? How many pups she’s likely to have? The kind of facilities you need to deliver them, let alone keep them safe? What to do when it all happens? Do you know anything about buffalo dogs other than what they told you so you could transport one—pardon me, two—from Gibrahl? I’m a buffalo dog expert. You need me to help you through this.”

  She took two breaths that time.

  “Why?” I said.

  “Why?”

  “You’ve painted a good picture, but what’s in it for you? It can’t be money, you haven’t mentioned it yet. So, why?”

  She fell silent, which given her staccato style of speech made for a greater void than normal. She shrugged her shoulders, glared at Mandelbrot’s hand on her arm as if notici
ng it for the first time, and looked me square in the face.

  “Because you have what no one else has, Mr. Conroy. You’ve got a pregnant buffalo dog. And soon, you’ll have newborn pups. And once they’re grown the females will be fertile, and in time you’ll have still more pregnant buffalo dogs. That’s never happened before in Human Space. No one on Earth has ever studied it first hand; it’s all been theoretical, textbooks and conference papers, till now. I want to be in on it from the beginning. I have to be.”

  “That’s all fine, I’m sure, but even if I had a pregnant buffalo dog, and if all the rest you said was true, it wouldn’t be very smart of me to take in someone out of the blue and trust her with such a precious creature, would it?”

  “Dr. Penrose,” said Mandelbrot, “how did you know to come here?”

  “Customs puts transponders on the crates. Wada has all the codes. I tracked you, and when you stopped moving, I came here. But don’t worry, my sister erased your code from the log. Even if they think of it, they won’t be able to find you; at least not right away. I had to make sure I had time to convince you to hire me.”

  “Why is that so important to you?”

  “The Wada Consortium looks at buffalo dogs as commodities, Mr. Conroy. They see them as things to buy and sell and lease. Their clients view them as expensive tools, means to achieve various ends. But none of them value the creatures just for themselves.”

  Mandelbrot smirked. “And you do?”

  She turned on him. “I’m the closest thing they have to an advocate in all of Human Space. I understand their commercial value, probably better than either of you, but that doesn’t preclude appreciating them in other ways.”

  “Do you want me to donate one to a zoo?” I asked.

  “I want you to let me study them,” she said. “You’re going to need someone to help you through the birth process. It’s not like anything you’re imagining. Let me do that for you. Afterwards, you can decide if you want to keep me on. I’m just asking for the chance to be present when this one gives birth.”