“It could have been genetic maps of the Hohenwald males.”
“What’s a genetic map?”
“Something you wouldn’t know about.” Jackie grabbed the leaves off a low hanging maple and pulled them down. The branch tapped Michael on the head.
“Ouch. What was that for?”
“For thinking you know everything about me.”
“I know I don’t know everything about you. For one thing, I don’t know what was in those notebooks.”
“The purpose of the project. My purpose.”
Michael cried out with delight. “I was right,” he crowed. “You were right.”
“What was it?”
“They were going to reseed elephants back into Africa and Asia. But the elephants were going to have to be as smart as humans to keep from being steak on the hoof.”
“That’s weird,” Michael said. “Why couldn’t somebody just go and watch out for them.” Then it hit him. “Oh.”
“ ‘Oh,’ is right,” Jackie said gently.
“They knew they were dying. They must have known everybody was dying. There wouldn’t be anybody to take care of you.” Michael shook his head. “That doesn’t make sense. Why go through all the trouble and die before they can make good on it?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t find any personal diaries or notes. I just found the original mission statement and long range plan.”
“What do you think happened?”
“I think they made a mistake and died too quickly. Since we didn’t trust them, they didn’t really know how well they had succeeded. They kept trying to adapt, trying to figure out how smart we really were and how they were going to adapt their plan to our limitations. They were caught sick trying to do right by us.”
Michael didn’t say anything for a long time. “Do you think they figured it out before they all died?”
Jackie sighed, a deep rumbling breath. “God, I hope not.”
Dear Mom,
My spelling is better since I let Jackie read the letters. She had been doing it sometimes but hadn’t said anything.
I didn’t tell you about Gerry. But he and Jackie took care of me when I was sick. Gerry is a Real Good Guy, so if you get a chance, look out for him.
Jackie’s job was to look out for the elephants. So, now when we get to Hohenwald, she gets to do her job. I’m not sure what I’m going to do. My job so far has been to be her hands. But most of what I do has to do with traveling. When she gets there, she won’t be traveling anymore.
She said all of the elephants at Hohenwald were females. But the information she had was over ten years old. Ralph hadn’t been able to contact Hohenwald for a long time. Maybe they weren’t fire protected.
The land is different now, wilder. Jackie says it looks like the old forests from hundreds of years ago. But it’s much too recent. She thinks somebody must have made it. So we’re careful.
I miss you every day. You and Dad both, though I don’t remember him so well. Jackie thinks I’m strange to write to you, being dead and all. I don’t think it’s strange at all. (So there, Jackie!)
If I talked to you out loud, people would just think I was crazy. This way, it’s just between me and you and I get a chance to collect my thoughts. I think I remember you better, too, if I do this. Ned had some good ideas mixed with the bad.
Jackie makes sure I brush my teeth every night. She had me look for a toothbrush in Ralph’s packs. Sure enough, there was one.
We’re coming into Hohenwald soon. So, I’ll tell you about it after that.
Love, Michael
They had been several days on old Highway 641 when Michael saw Interstate 40 through a break in the trees.
This part of the road had seen better days. The roads in Tennessee were better cared for than the ones in Illinois or Kentucky. It was one of the best ways to determine when they crossed state or county borders: the roads or the farms were cared for differently. In Kentucky, the roads were broken in places and worn away in others and they had to keep a sharp eye for dragons.
Once they crossed into Tennessee the roads looked as if they were cared for by someone with a mania for cleanliness and sharp borders. It reminded Michael of the mysterious farms up in Illinois. The dark forest seemed to be the province of Kentucky. The forest here seemed more normal: a mix of young trees and shrubs. Once or twice they saw the remains of a garden. There had been people around recently, if they weren’t around right now. Still, they saw no one living. Just the occasional mound of mushrooms.
Jackie stopped dead in the middle of the roadway.
Michael almost fell off. He caught on to one of her ears and pulled himself back up to her neck. He looked around nervously to see what made her stop.
“What is it?” he whispered. “I hear something.”
“Dragons?”
“No.”
Jackie spread her legs and leaned forward. She let her trunk down to rest on the ground.
“Is something wrong?” asked Michael. “Shut up.”
Michael leaned back and pulled out the map. It looked like they turned east here. Hohenwald was only seventy or eighty miles away.
Jackie straightened up. “So?”
“Nothing.”
“Right.”
Jackie shook her head in irritation.
A few miles further on, Interstate 40 was more visible. They walked up the eastern ramp to the road proper. Michael felt better. The visibility from an interstate was much greater than from the little, forest enclosed roads. While they hadn’t seen a dragon for a while, Michael didn’t want to take any chances.
Jackie stopped on the interstate again and assumed the strange leaning posture. “What is it?”
Jackie didn’t answer. She just shook her head at him.
Michael climbed down to look around. He hopped over to the edge of the interstate, leaned against the guard rail. It was considerably more open to the south. Michael thought he could see a fairly large turtle of some sort, perhaps thirty pounds, walking along the edge of the forest. It looked like dragon country.
“We’re going the wrong way,” Jackie said suddenly.
Michael pulled out the map and studied again. “No. This is the way to Hohenwald.”
“Where are we?”
Michael studied the map. “McIllwain. At least, that’s the closest thing that looks like a town. That way – ” he pointed east “ – lays the Tennessee River. We go over it, if the bridge is still there. About thirty miles further on we turn south again to Hohenwald.”
Jackie shifted nervously. “They’re not there.”
“The Hohenwald elephants?”
Jackie turned west. She leaned out again and laid her trunk on the ground. “Not that way, either.”
“Nothing to the north of us, is there?”
Jackie turned east again, dropped her trunk to the ground. For a long time, she was motionless. Finally, she shook herself. “It’s the river that’s messing me up. I think they’re south.”
Michael sat on the guard rail. “Dragons might be down that way. Also, people.”
“Maybe. I don’t think they’re far.”
Michael sighed. He stood, leaning against the wall. Jackie made a leg for him and he climbed up. “The river is going north to south. Maybe we can keep going south on 69 and you can keep listening.”
“How far is the river? Is there a road that follows it?”
Michael ran his finger along the blue line. “The river is angling toward us. It comes pretty close starting around Akins Chapel. We’ll only be a few miles away from it when we get to Jeanette. Maybe ten miles.”
“Let’s go.”
At Jeanette, they found Brodie’s Landing Road. This brought them down to the river.
The Tennessee River was not the crushing roar of the Ohio or the Mississippi. It was broad and flat with a steady slow southern flow. On the other side, washing in the still water was a herd of elephants.
Jackie froze, staring at them. The air w
as still. The elephants across the river stared back. Michael didn’t move. He wondered if the elephants could see him. Just how well did elephants see, anyway?
The moment stretched out long enough that Michael wanted to change his position. He began to itch.
Suddenly, one elephant in the water snorted and clambered up the bank. It trumpeted once and then walked up the bank. The other elephants followed her.
Jackie shook herself once they were out of sight. She walked into the water but the current, though slow, seemed to shift her slightly. She stopped and backed up. “Where can I get across?”
“We can go back north and across Interstate 40. Or, we can go south and cross Highway 412.”
“Which is closer?”
“Both are about the same.” Jackie thought for a long time.
“South,” she said at last. “We go south.”
They crossed the river at Perryville. The bridge seemed intact, though, of course, they couldn’t be sure. It cracked like a gunshot when they were in the middle and for a moment, Michael couldn’t breathe. But the bridge gave them no more trouble and they were on the east side of the Tennessee River.
“We’re quite a ways from Hohenwald,” Michael said as they lumbered down the road.
“Did you think they would stay there? Their Keepers must be dead, too.” Jackie sounded almost happy.
“Do you think Ralph is dead?”
She shook her head irritably. “I’m not concerned about the fate of one robot.”
That’s not your purpose, he thought. It made him nervous.
Along the eastern side of the river, they found a flat, worn trail, well marked with elephant scat. Jackie turned over each pile, broke it open and smelled it.
“Is that necessary?”
“I want to know who they are.” She pointed to one worn pile. “African elephant. Female. Smells like she’s the dominant one.” She pointed behind. “There are three Indian females. One is still a little immature. She’s unrelated to the other two. None of them are pregnant.”
“What are you?”
“Indian. What? You didn’t know?”
“It’s not like you told me.”
She snorted.
“Any boy elephants?”
“There were no males in Hohenwald.”
“Why not?”
“Males need more space. They don’t herd like females.”
Michael thought for a moment. “Better hope your baby is a boy.” Jackie didn’t answer.
They came to the point across the river where they had seen the herd, a long, hard packed sandbar held together with tough grass and cottonwoods. The scat here was plentiful. The elephants liked this place and returned to it often.
Michael leaned over her head. “Which way?”
“I’m not sure.”
Michael slid to the ground. Jackie handed him his crutch. He moved around one side of the clearing while Jackie searched the other. The elephant markings were so numerous it was hard to figure out where they had gone.
“Over here,” she called softly. Michael hobbled over.
Jackie pointed to a large pile. “Male Indian. No more than a week ago.”
“That’s good, right?”
“Maybe.”
She cried out suddenly. “Get down!” And swept him to the ground. A dart stuck in Jackie’s trunk where he had been standing. Michael scrambled up to pull it out.
“Samsa!” cried a girl’s voice from the brush. She ran out toward Jackie.
Michael tried to intercept her but was knocked to the ground again, this time by an older man. He held a knife to Michael’s throat.
Jackie eased herself down to her knees. Then lay down on the ground. “Jackie!” Michael cried out.
She looked blindly at the sound of his voice. Then it seemed as if her eyes were looking elsewhere. She closed them slowly.
“You’ve killed her,” he said, not believing it.
“It was an accident, cripple,” whispered the woman in a stricken voice. “I was aiming at you.”
Part 4
The girl pulled the dart out of Jackie’s trunk. “Will she die, Samsa?” the girl asked the man holding the knife to Michael’s throat.
“I don’t know,” Samsa said. He pulled cord from a pouch belted around his waist and bound Michael’s wrists.
“What? Do you think I’m going to run away?” Michael pushed his stump at him. “Cripple, remember?”
Samsa ignored him. He knelt next to Jackie. “She’s breathing. That’s a good sign. Maybe the dosage is too small.”
“Dosage of what?” Michael stared at them. “What did you do to her?”
“Missed you,” said Samsa, evenly. “Let’s see the dart, Pinto.”
Pinto gently brushed Jackie’s eyes closed, picked up the dart and brought it to Samsa.
Samsa examined it carefully, deliberately avoiding the point. “Full dose, all right. Get the med kit in my tent back at camp.”
“Got it.” With that, the girl was gone, running up the trail away from the river. Samsa examined Jackie minutely. He placed a hand on her chest to measure her breathing. After that, he held his hand under her trunk and stood silently.
“What are you doing?” Michael asked quietly.
“Shut up.”
After a moment, Samsa released the trunk. “Pulse is good. Breathing is a little weak.”
“That was a poison dart.”
“You’re a smart one.”
“Why shoot me?”
“Let’s see. You’re riding the biggest piece of meat for twenty miles around – except for the dozen or so other pieces of meat just as big. You’re not important, boy. She is. Too important to provide you a year’s supply of steaks.”
“You think I was going to eat her?”
“That would be a little ambitious. I think you were going to trade her. Maybe to the Angels in Memphis or the Rubber Girls in Chattanooga. They would have taken her and then served you up as a garnish – which would have been fine by me but we’d still be out an elephant.”
“Jackie’s not one of your elephants.”
“I know that. Since you’re accidentally alive you can tell me where you stole her.”
“I didn’t steal Jackie. I don’t think anybody could do that. If she could talk, she’d tell you herself.”
Samsa snorted. “I expect she’d have a lot to tell me, too.” Michael fell silent.
“Where did you get her?”
“Jackie and I came from Saint Louis. We were trying to find the elephants at Hohenwald. She wanted her own herd.”
“Well, you found them. We’ll take it from here.”
“She’s — ”
Samsa pointed the dart at him. “There’s enough left in this for a little slip of a thing like you. Even if it didn’t kill you, it’ll paralyze you until morning. The Komodos would find you long before that.”
Michael stared at the point of the dart. The tip had a drop of oil on it. He couldn’t look away.
“Don’t,” Jackie said in a long exhalation.
Samsa looked over at the elephant. He looked back at Michael. “She didn’t just talk, did she?”
“Is she going to be all right?”
Samsa looked back at her. “I think so. The curare didn’t kill her so it will wear off in a while. Pinto is bringing back the antidote.”
“Then pretty soon you’ll find out for yourself.”
Pinto returned with a professional looking bag. She gave it to Samsa and went to sit next to Jackie. She huddled next to her head. Michael hoped she had sense enough to move away when Jackie got up.
Michael tried to figure out the two of them. Samsa was an older man. What little hair he had left was streaked with gray and matched his beard. He was tall and thin as if strung together with wires. Pinto wasn’t much more than Michael’s own age. Through her loose shirt Michael could see a suggestion of young breasts, but her legs and arms still looked childish. Michael wondered if Pinto had bartered protectio
n the same way he had with Uncle Ned. They didn’t look related.
Samsa pulled out two glass ampoules, one with a powder and the other a liquid, a syringe, and a wicked needle. He filled the syringe with the liquid and injected it into the ampoule with the powder and swirled it around to mix it. He caught Michael watching him.
“We don’t have much call to use this so it’s still in the original packaging.” Samsa grinned at him. “We brew the poison ourselves.”
“From what?”
“Poison arrow frogs down in the bayou. We go down there once or twice a year to catch what we need.”
“I didn’t know there were such animals.”
“Pretty little things. Red. Blue. All sorts of colors. Skin carries a poison that will lay you out to dry if you mess with them. They didn’t use to live down there but somebody’s menagerie broke open – or was deliberately released – and some small group managed to survive the cooler winters. It’s a nice weapon against humans – quiet. Quick. If you keep your wits about you, you can take down half a dozen people before they realize what’s happening.”
He finished shaking the ampoule and filled the syringe with the resulting mixture. “Out of the way, Pinto,” Samsa said. He swabbed a section of Jackie’s hide and slipped the needle in. Then he withdrew the needle, broke it, and put the syringe and broken needle in a jar from the bag.
“She’s still not going to be moving for a couple of hours but now her breathing won’t be affected.” He looked up at the hot sun. “We’ll have to keep her cool.” He looked at Michael. “Take your shirt off and wet it in the river. Keep it wet and on the elephant’s head.”
“Her name is Jackie.”
“Jackie, then.”
“Better untie me.”
“You’ll do fine with your hands tied together. Hop to it. Pinto? Help him but keep out of reach. Use your own shirt, too. I’ll go get a couple of buckets.”
Pinto kept a wary eye on Michael but he ignored her. The sun was hot even on his sweating body. He didn’t want to imagine what Jackie felt like.
“Keep her ears wet, too,” Pinto told him. “Elephants keep cool through their ears.” Michael grunted and bathed Jackie’s ears.
“Did she knock you down?” Pinto asked as they passed one another on the way to the river.
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