by Ellen Clary
Amy said, “I think so, though I’m going to have to take a closer look at the material to be sure.”
They shook hands and Amy and Lars walked out.
On the plane, looking out at the clouds, Amy wrote back to the office, “No big fish today; one smaller, unrelated one.”
CHAPTER 43:
Amy Talks with John
JOHN CHOPPED the onions for chana masala, a garbanzo bean dish that they both loved. He was back on with his vegetarian quest. He would stick with it for a while, then couldn’t take any more, and he’d scarf down an entire roasted chicken.
Amy got the rice out, and set it and the vegetable broth up to start when things were further along. More the omnivore, Amy enjoyed the occasional hamburger, but usually for lunch when he wasn’t around, to give him some space about it; she did eat chicken and fish around him, since that didn’t seem to bother him too much. Setting the rice aside, she asked if he wanted a salad and, with his assent, started pulling out various salad-relevant bits.
While peering into the refrigerator, she asked, “So, is that guy who wrote the travel-the-world surfing book going to be stopping by your store to do a reading?” John owned and ran a surf store.
“John Stenner? I don’t know if you’d call it a reading, but he’ll be coming to hold court or something. Maybe he’ll do a presentation.”
“You have room for that?”
He poured olive oil into a skillet and turned on the stove burner. “He’ll probably have one of those self-standing screens that can unfold. It should work. If not, I’ll clear a space for him, but it would require moving some surfboards.”
Emerging from the refrigerator with lettuce, hard-boiled eggs, carrots, cheese, and dressing (she did insist that cheese and eggs had to be present in the house, and he did not object), she said, “If so, you should make him help move all the boards.”
John added onions to the pan and did one of those pan tosses to spread them around. Amy always envied him being able to do this, as she usually wound up with things all over the kitchen floor. Of course, then she had to argue with Lars about not eating the onions that she’d just flung on the floor; he didn’t understand they were bad for him, and he thought she’d done that just for him. So she used a wooden spoon instead. John said, “Oh, he’ll have an underling or two around to do the grunt work.” He added some garlic, turned down the heat a little to let things sauté, and started mixing the spices, calling them out as he added them to a small bowl, “Chili powder, cumin, coriander, turmeric. A bit of salt. So, how’s work? You haven’t said much about it lately. Rescue anyone famous?”
Amy had just gotten some tomatoes out and was slicing them into quarters. “Nope, completely boring data-gathering project.”
“You’re spying on someone?”
Amy inwardly gasped, as she wasn’t expecting this, and had to pause the knife for a bit. She tried to remember the tangled thing that Steve and Yolanda had come up with, and was drawing a blank. “Right. Me the spy. No, it’s dog data.”
“About?”
Fuck, what was it about? she thought. “It has to do with measuring how hard they’re working.” What was it? Oh yeah. “Someone is trying to measure the wear and tear on their pads.”
“No way, really?” he said, going back to tossing the onions, adding the spice mixture, and actually getting a wooden spoon out to stir.
“Yeah, well, it’s probably not going anywhere. Do you want apples in the salad?”
“Sure. What a weird thing to study.”
Dammit, Steve. Amy inwardly said to her coworker, this needs to be more boring.
“So, who’s doing this study?”
“You don’t know him, he’s down south.”
“Traveling to be bored.” He added the tomatoes, some garbanzo beans, and cilantro, reducing the heat to let it cook.
“Lucky me,” she said, adding the salad ingredients to a large bowl.
John walked over to her and stood behind her with a hand on each shoulder. He reached down, put his hand over her knife-wielding one, and placed it on the butcher block; she released the knife and then he gently kissed her cheek. “I worry about you.”
“Why, John?”
“You seem preoccupied the past few days.”
Amy realized that if he actually noticed, she must have been really preoccupied.
“It’s nothing really, I just miss the usual searching for someone.”
“Is what you’re doing dangerous?”
“I sure hope not.” She tried reaching for the knife to continue cutting up the apple, but his hand tightened on her shoulder.
“South. Where south?”
Turning to him and putting a hand on his chest, she said, “John, I can’t discuss details of current projects. You know that.”
“You talk about stuff all the time.”
“Yeah, but afterward. Rice, John, we need to start the rice.”
“Fuck the rice, I don’t want you getting yourself killed because of some researcher’s whim.”
Amy waved a hand to the air out of frustration and brought down her hand flat onto the butcher block with a resounding thunk. “It’s not that way.” Amy noticed that Lars decided it was a fine time to leave the room. Good boy.
“Then how is it?”
Amy took a breath, turned to him and looked directly at him, and reached out and put her hand back on his chest. “John, it’s going to be okay. Really.”
John sighed and stepped over to stir the masala. Amy got the rice started, then went back to trying to finish the salad.
John said, “You’ve been brooding lately and haven’t said word one about work.”
Trying to focus on not slicing her finger instead of the apple, she said, “I’m sorry, John. Yes, it’s been a pretty intense project, but I’ll tell you all I can when it’s over.” With a pang of something bordering on guilt, she realized that she might not ever be able to discuss it much.
He said, “I hate how closed-off you are. You’re not yourself.”
Throwing everything into the bowl, she walked over to him, looked up at him, and said, stroking his cheek, “I’m touched that you noticed.”
He put his hand on hers and said, “I’m trying to pay more attention to the squishy stuff.”
Amy laughed and kissed him. “My squishy surfer boy.”
“Sounds like a song to me,” he replied.
CHAPTER 44:
Amy and Lars Back at Choran Dog Park
AMY THREW the ball again, saying to herself, And here we are, exploring the exotic wildlands of a dog park in the sticks. She looked around again for what seemed like the hundredth time and saw no sign of her quarry. As Lars brought the ball back, she kneeled down and, while petting him, said to the air, “I don’t know, Tyson, I don’t see him anywhere.” She stood up and indicated for Lars to walk with her. She noticed in the distance a runner who stopped to stretch, then pointed at his wrist and held up his hand with five fingers extended. Looking back down at Lars she said, “Sure, I can wait five minutes.”
They wandered closer to the entrance and then she saw them. Adam and his golden came in. Actually, it was more of a charge than an entrance, as the golden raced up to Lars, barking, and knocked him over. Lars, who was about ten feet away from Amy, was more than annoyed and howled a complaint. Amy ran over yelling, “STOP!” The golden ceased immediately and looked around confused.
Amy heard in her head, /Whatwhatwhat who you you you?/
What the heck? she thought for a moment. Then she said to Lars, /You okay, Lars?/
She looked over at him.
He shook himself saying, /Weird./
Then the voice in her head again: /What what what./
She realized it wasn’t Lars she was hearing.
The realization came suddenly and she reeled. Oh no, not this dog. Please, not this dog. To the air so Tyson would hear, she said, “This nutball dog is chattering away inside my head. It’s not making much sense though.”
> Trying to get the dog’s attention, she said mentally to him, /Come, it’s okay, come./
The golden came over, rubbing his body against her.
Amy said out loud, “You’re fine, calm down, Lars won’t hurt you. I can’t be so sure about your human though.”
All she could sense was, /Huh who dog dog dog who/
This dog has never really interacted with a person this way, she thought. He’s like when other dogs first try to communicate with humans empathically.
Adam raced up, and she reminded herself that she didn’t know who he was or his name. He seemed to be a typical angry human, his hand raised partially in the air. “Levi, don’t do that!”
To Adam, Amy said, “He’s okay now, don’t hurt him.”
“How do you know?”
“Look at him. He has an open expression, open mouth, and is relaxed.”
“He got away with it.”
“It’s over, he’s not thinking about that.”
Adam still looked upset, but stopped, paused, and said, “I’m Adam,” extending a hand.
“Hi, I’m Amy,” accepting the handshake.
Adam’s hand was shaking a little and warm.
He looked like his photo: auburn hair, grey eyes, light tan skin, and only a little taller than she would have guessed.
“Are you a dog trainer?”
“No, but I train my dog and I’m a psychology student at Chorcy.”
“He’s terrible around new dogs.”
“You might want to work with a trainer on it.”
“This is Levi, and he seems to like you.”
Amy looked down to see a relaxed golden looking up at her. She told him, /Hi, this is awkward./
/Awk?/ The dog gave her a blank look.
/Never mind./
Amy looked around to see Lars off at a short distance.
/Lars, come say hi, I think it’s going to be okay./
Lars started to approach in a wide arc to Levi, doing his best new-dog approach. He was just about within butt-sniffing range when Levi barked, went into a play bow, and then spun in a circle. Lars broke away and started carefully sniffing the ground, trying to send a calming signal to Levi.
Amy said to Lars, /I’m not sure Levi is interested in calming down./
Lars then ran over to where Amy and Adam were standing, ignoring Levi entirely.
She asked Lars, /If he won’t listen then just ignore him?/
Lars seemed to assent with, /Mmmm./
Turning to Adam, Amy said, “This is Larson.”
“Hi, Larson, you’re a handsome fella. What kind of dog is he?”
She started to say the usual, “kelpie-shepherd cross,” and stopped herself. “Shepherd mix.”
Adam bent over, thumping his head, which she knew Lars did not like.
“Actually, if you pet his side he really likes that.”
Adam switched to stroking Lars’s side, and she could relax that Lars wasn’t going to just think he was a complete buffoon.
Levi had raced off in a wide circle and now was coming back. Lars paid no attention to Levi, who was starting to poke at Lars with his nose.
Adam asked, “Larson doesn’t like Levi?
“Not like this, but give it a little time.”
To Lars, she said, while hoping he would understand, /Give the dog a chance./
Lars didn’t quite say /Hmphf/ but certainly seemed to, though he did at least look in Levi’s direction.
Adam said, “He’s such an idiot with new dogs.”
“New faces are pretty exciting to some dogs.”
Lars turned to Levi, who excitedly play-bowed.
Adam looked at her, “Speaking of new faces, I’ve never seen you here before.”
“Yeah, I just started at ChoranCC, and have just started bringing Larson to the park.”
Amy knew what the next question would be and reminded herself to not sound too rehearsed.
“What are you studying?
“Psychology, and I’m considering pre-vet.”
“Ambitious, but I’m a scientist, so I say go for the biology bits.”
Delighted that he was so forthcoming, she said, “You are? Where?”
He physically started a little, then recovered. “Oh, it’s for the Visions Institute.”
“Oh, okay, I haven’t heard of them, but I don’t live in town.”
“It’s a small group, so you wouldn’t of heard of us.”
“Seems like most everything around here is about farming.”
Adam smiled a genuine smile, and said, “Yep.”
By this time, Lars and Levi were racing around the park together.
Amy said, “I think they have mended their differences for now.”
“I guess so.”
Amy considered a bit and thought it was worth trying to continue the conversation. “So is your lab about farming? Making the best corn ever?”
“Not really, it’s different.” His brow furrowed a little.
Tyson and others had taught Amy to just stay silent and see what happened, as people don’t like silence that much, so she just raised her eyebrows and looked at him expectantly.
“Well, it’s a little proprietary, so I’m not supposed to talk about it much.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude, but I was actually wondering if you’re one of those famous science publishers.”
He put his hands on his forehead and looked up at the sky, talking. “Ha, ha, hardly. Though we’ve published some really obscure stuff that I guarantee you won’t care a whit about.”
“So, you are famous.”
“No. Really, no.” He seemed to want to end the conversation, so Amy decided not to press. “Where have they gone?” He looked around.
Amy said, “The dogs? Their heads are in a hole over there.”
“We have the most brazen prairie dogs ever. Levi, come!”
Amy said, “Larson, come.” Turning to Adam, she said, “I have to run to class, but it was nice meeting you.”
Adam doffed his baseball cap and did a half-bow. “The pleasure was mine entirely, and next time I pray that my dog doesn’t bowl either of you over.”
Laughing, Amy said, “Bye, Adam. Bye, Levi,” left the park with Lars beside her, and headed off to ChoranCC to debrief with Tyson.
CHAPTER 45:
Amy Meets with Tyson at Charon Community College
AMY AND Lars entered the teaching assistants’ office to find Tyson nearly dancing in his chair.
She sat in the chair at the side of the desk. She said, “I take it you’re happy.”
Tyson smiled. “That went so well.”
“I guess, if you don’t mind not subtle,” Amy replied.
He started counting out on his fingers. “One, you saw him. Two, you have met each other and know each other’s names. Three, you know a little about him. Heck, he even told you he worked in a lab.”
“Well, okay.” Amy inclined her head, feeling a little concerned.
He leaned towards her a little. “And did I hear you say his dog talked to you?”
She leaned back a corresponding amount, alarmed at what he might be thinking. “Well, not really—”
Tyson started talking to the wall. “Do you know what that means?”
“Tyson—”
He paid no attention, looking at the opposite wall. “What a coup. We have a spy on the inside—”
Amy decided that breaking out of the usual office monotone seemed to be the only choice. “TYSON.”
He started and returned her gaze.
Now that she had his attention, she switched back to an office monotone, albeit stressed.
“It doesn’t work that way.”
“Why not?”
Amy put her head in her hands.
Tyson got up and said, “Let’s take a walk.”
“Happy to. Come on, Lars,” she replied.
Not far from the office was a plaza with a water fountain; there were benches and shade trees around it
where people could sit.
Tyson sat on a bench and patted it. Waving his arm at the fountain, he said, “Come into my white-noise booth. It’s not infallible, but it’s reasonably effective at staving off casual snooping. Now explain to me what I have wrong.”
Amy sat down, looking at the water fountain and taking a moment to breathe in and absorb the peace that it offered. Lars looked like he wanted to dunk his head in the water, but lay down near it instead. “I can’t be sure, but I don’t think this dog has ever successfully talked with a human before.”
“What makes you think that?”
Amy asked, “Do you have kids?”
Slightly thrown off, he answered, “I have a six-year-old son.”
“Remember back when he was one?”
“How could I forget?” Tyson had that faraway look of someone looking at a memory.
“Was he just making words just to say them or just trying to repeat what he was hearing?”
Tyson laughed, “I wasted so much time trying to figure out what he meant, when it turned out it didn’t mean anything at all. He was just enjoying the sound of his own voice.”
Amy nodded. “Well, dogs aren’t nearly as chatty as human children, but they go through a similar phase where they’re just repeating words they’ve heard, without really knowing what they mean. This dog was like that.”
“So no complete sentences?”
“Complete sentences are rare, even from Lars. We teach them a highly abbreviated language, so they can describe if they see a person or animal, and what that person might be doing, like walking or running or lying down, or if they have a weapon. We’re also trying to teach them emotions like happy and sad, but that’s hard.”
Tyson seemed genuinely disappointed—he visibly deflated. “So, you can’t have a dog tell you what they’re trying to create in those lab containers?”
“Not unless someone ran out the door and tried to hide themselves or something.”
Tyson turned his attention back to the fountain. “I couldn’t just keep my little dog spy fantasy even for just a little while?”
“Only if you promised not to tell anyone official.”
“And what fun would that be?”