Einstein Dog

by Craig Spence

  Then I know where we’re going, Einstein cut in. Do you remember the shipping container on the far side of the AMOS building, the one set on a concrete pad? He paused just long enough for them to catch up with his thoughts. We assumed it had a generator or a ventilation unit in it. But there’s another possibility . . .

  “What?” Ariel demanded after a second or two.

  Well, if Hindquist needed an escape hatch, where would he put it?

  “Of course!” Bertrand cried. “It’s close enough to get to at a moment’s notice; far enough away and sturdy enough to resist damage during an explosion.”

  My thoughts exactly, Einstein said as they rounded the corner.

  The air had cleared enough for them to make out the metal box. But there was no sign of Genie or Hindquist. Bertrand thought for a second they might have been wrong. Perhaps Hindquist had simply escaped through a different tunnel and slunk away like a rat into the night. Suddenly, though, with a clank and a whirr, the steel roof of the container swung open. Then, before their astonished eyes, a helicopter rose out of the metal cocoon, spreading its blades like newly fledged wings. Immediately the engine powered up and the blades began to spin.

  “Holy smokes!” Bertrand gasped.

  “No kidding!” Ariel agreed.

  There was no sign of Genie though, and the two of them stood gaping at the chopper as Hindquist readied himself behind the controls, staring straight at them.

  Stay back! Einstein shouted. Get down!

  Just in time the children hit the dirt. With a clatter and flash, the helicopter spat a stream of bullets, which whizzed through the air like angry wasps.

  Roll! Einstein barked.

  They tumbled away in opposite directions as a stream of bullets stitched the lawn between them.

  Faster and faster the blades spun. Hindquist leered at them through his bubble of glass, but seemed too preoccupied with flying now to make any more attempts at mowing them down. The president of Advanced Military Ordinance Supply looked crazed. His grand designs lay buried in the rubble of his former headquarters. All was dust and ruins . . .

  There! Einstein shouted.

  Bertrand saw Genie, too. Somehow she’d scaled the container wall from the far side and slunk onto the helipad.

  “Genie!” Ariel shrieked. “Genie, no!”

  The helicopter was screaming now, its blades spinning at full throttle. The machine was equipped to put down on land or water, and while Hindquist concentrated on the controls, Genie stowed herself away on one of the flat pontoons, hunching down as the bird lifted off.

  Ariel jumped to her feet and charged toward the platform.

  Stay down! Einstein bellowed, charging after her and bowling her over just as another stream of bullets tore up the turf.

  Lifting off, the helicopter hovered a moment, as if Hindquist were deciding whether to flee or position himself for a strafing run. The crackle of guns from behind them made up his mind. The bird tilted and veered away, zooming off into the dawn.

  “Genie!” Ariel wailed. “Jump!”

  Genie couldn’t understand Ariel’s words over the whine of the helicopter, but there was no mistaking the desperation of her call. Hindquist would feel it too, of course. Ariel had inadvertently warned him that he was not alone. It didn’t matter. The girl had never trained for combat, so she couldn’t be expected to respond coolly under fire. Her heart was breaking.

  I love you, Genie beamed down to her human.

  “Touching,” Hindquist scoffed.

  How would you know? Genie challenged.

  Get off, Genie. Jump! Einstein urged.

  They were close enough to the ground that she could have bailed out. But she had to finish the business she’d begun that night. Hindquist would not get away. He would not retire to a life of swimming pools, cocktail parties, and boasts about the dogs and humans he had killed. Never!

  The helicopter banked away, and soon they were too high to even think of jumping.

  Goodbye! she called down to the children and her siblings, just as Cap, Breeze, and Blizzard charged into sight.

  “I had no idea you were the sentimental type, Genie,” Hindquist sneered.

  There are many things about me you don’t know, Frank. Some you’ll discover in the short time remaining.

  “Short time?”

  Genie didn’t answer, letting the question hang in the air between them.

  “I don’t think my time is running out, Genie,” he mocked, “although I can’t say the same for you.”

  He tilted the chopper violently, spiraling earthward. Genie flattened herself against the float, letting the centrifugal force hold her firmly onto her perch.

  “Oh, sorry,” Hindquist laughed. “Bit of turbulence there.”

  No problem, she replied calmly.

  For a while he flew on in silence, heading west toward the coast. The floats would allow him to put down anywhere, most likely on an inlet with access to the sea. Langley was only part of Hindquist’s operation, Genie knew. Unless she finished things, he would resurface in some other country, as powerful and evil as ever.

  “Why?” Hindquist demanded suddenly.

  Why what?

  “Why did you betray me? Why destroy our hopes? Our dreams?”

  Genie laughed bitterly. Betray you? she threw back incredulously. How could I betray you when I never signed up for your cause in the first place, Frank? I didn’t betray you, I simply bided my time, waiting for an opportunity to strike back for what you did to me and my family.

  “Fool!” Hindquist growled. “Soon the Global Council will rule the world, and you could have been a part of that, Genie. You could have run with the leaders, at the head of the pack.”

  No, Frank. That’s a lie. My descendants and I would have done your dirty work, that’s all. How many people have you murdered to achieve your glorious ends? How many countries have been laid waste? How many children starved in the name of greed and ambition? How many more would you want me to murder and maim for you, Frank?

  The councillor for America North shook his head and groaned. “I thought you would understand,” he lamented.

  Understand what?

  “That the Global Council is not just about greed and ambition. It’s about building a new world, Genie. Do you think progress has ever been achieved without the vision and determination of strong leaders prodding the common herd?”

  Leader! Genie snorted. You don’t know the meaning of the word. A true leader commands love and respect, Frank. She is a servant of the people, not their taskmaster. You’re a tyrant and you are succumbing to the same weakness that brings down all tyrants in the end.

  “Enlighten me,” Hindquist grinned.

  Because your empire is held together by force, not love, you cannot trust anyone. You must monitor every action, punish every imagined slight or transgression. And as soon as your lackeys see your power fail, they flee into the arms of another warlord or turn on you.

  “Like you did, I suppose.”

  Again he yanked the stick, sending the helicopter into a wild spin; again Genie flattened herself against the pontoon.

  Well Frank, she said when the chopper leveled out again. It’s time to end our little philosophical chat and come down to earth, don’t you think?

  “What do you mean?”

  Genie pointed her weaponry toward the helicopter’s fuselage and sent a burst of cannon fire through the aluminum skin.

  “What are you doing!” Hindquist shrieked.

  We’re going to land one way or another, Frank, she said coolly.

  “This is crazy. We’ll be killed.”

  I’d rather you were captured, but either way you’re not going to escape if I can help it. Put the chopper down.

  “Genie! We can still achieve our goals. AMOS was only a small part of my global operations. We could have more power than you’ve ever dreamed of . . . ”

  She let go another volley.

  Set us down, Frank. My next round won’t
miss. I know where the fuel tanks are.

  “Genie! Be reasonable!” he pleaded.

  She aimed her cannon, ready to open fire and blow them out the sky.

  “No! Wait!” he surrendered.

  Genie directed him to a school playing field just south of the Trans-Canada Highway, barely visible in the pale morning light. Hindquist pulled back on the stick, slowing down and circling in for landing.

  He’ll try something, Genie thought, keeping an eye on him as they neared the ground. He’s looking for a chance to make his move.

  They were too close to the ground and traveling too slowly for him to even think of shaking her off the pontoon again, she figured. He wouldn’t stand a chance running after they touched down.

  He’ll come out shooting then try to take off again, she guessed, realizing that from where she crouched she could see only his left side. Even if he doesn’t hit me, he’ll be away before I can recover and return fire. I’ll have to roll off the . . .

  Suddenly Hindquist’s door burst open and he shoved the muzzle of a submachine gun through the crack. Genie rolled off the pontoon as a stream of bullets zipped through the space where she’d been. She hit the ground hard and kept rolling as the chopper roared back to life and began to climb away.

  Rearing, Genie aimed at the underbelly of the fleeing machine. This time she didn’t let up, but sent a steady stream of flak into the shuddering bird. Hindquist veered right, accelerating away from the deadly fire, but too late. A horrible grating noise emerged from inside the crippled chopper. It spun round, hung in mid-air for a second, then plunged nose-first.

  The last thing Genie saw before she turned and ran was Hindquist’s horrified face staring out of the windscreen. Then the machine crumpled into a ball of flame and disintegrating metal. m Ariel sank wearily onto the bench in the kitchen nook. The last twenty-four hours had been . . . she didn’t have a word for it. Her mother, terrified and angry, hugging the breath out of her; an exhausting police interview; people in dark suits telling her that she shouldn’t talk to anyone, not anyone, about what had happened at the AMOS plant.

  She and Bertrand had been separated the whole time, but Ariel guessed he was being put through the same wringer. Einstein, Cap, Breeze, and Blizzard had melted into the night after Hindquist had taken flight.

  If they catch us, they’ll put us away for sure, Einstein apologized.

  “Where will you go?” Bertrand had asked.

  First we’re going to go look for Genie. Then we’re going to come back and visit you two, he’d said. Don’t worry about us. We just need to let the dust settle.

  Then the media reports started coming in about a helicopter crashing into a school field in Surrey. No survivors.

  “She’s gone, Mom. My Genie’s gone,” Ariel wept.

  That had been the hardest part of all.

  They arrived home late that night. Mrs. Krieger fixed Ariel a bowl of soup and some crackers, and then they went to bed. Ariel slept fitfully, waking up every few minutes expecting to hear the bark of a SMART dog outside her bedroom window. Finally, just before sunrise, she pulled on her housecoat, shoved her feet into her slippers and made her way downstairs.

  Ariel tried hard not to think about everything that had happened. What she wanted most of all was for things to be the way they were before the nightmare had begun. She knew that could never be. She knew, too, that they’d done what needed doing and the day would come when she’d feel proud of herself and her friends. For now, though, she was sad and tired and disappointed in a world that could be so evil.

  “Woof!”

  She glanced excitedly at the sliding door window. Nothing. “I’m imagining things now,” Arial moped.

  “Woof!”

  She looked again. Still nothing.

  “Einstein?” she called out, moving toward the glass.

  She peered out into their small back yard. Empty. Ariel was about to turn away when a motion at the end of the deck caught her eye. A helmeted head popped up over the edge of the wooden platform, then a mottled black and white body decked out in a military vest.

  “Genie!” Ariel whooped, yanking open the sliding door and rushing out to greet her dog.

  Genie sat patiently, allowing her human a show of affection. For her part, she licked Ariel fondly on the cheek, wagging her tail tentatively.

  Inside, she urged as soon as it was reasonably possible. We have to get inside.

  They hustled in through the patio door.

  Where have you been? Ariel wanted to know.

  I will tell you everything in a moment, but first you must do me a favor. Take this helmet off.

  Of course! Ariel kneeled and fumbled with the buckles and straps.

  And the K-Pack.

  “The what?”

  This cursed vest.

  Ariel worked loose the snaps and laces then pulled off the cumbersome apparatus.

  Thank you, Genie breathed a sigh of release. Thank you very much.

  Then she curled up on the floor at Ariel’s feet and promptly fell asleep.

  Epilogue

  Elaine shooed Professor Smith away from the barbeque.

  “Take a break, Alex,” she said helpfully.

  “But barbequing is man’s work,” he huffed.

  “Look,” she answered sternly. “You’ve already burned your eyebrows off.”

  He’d allowed too much gas to build up under the grill, so, when he lit it, there was a fireball. Bertrand had seen him do it before.

  “This hamburger looks like it came out of a volcano.”

  She held up a charred patty, which might have been a nugget of lava rock.

  “I’m not used to cooking patties the way you mixed them,” he objected.

  “And everyone’s starving, so shove off.”

  Having put up the expected resistance, Professor Smith grinned and kissed Elaine on the cheek. “All right,” he grumbled cheerfully. “But I’m not giving up on Sustainable Cooking, and that means sustainable barbequing as well.”

  “Good,” Elaine retorted. “You can write a book someday. In the meantime people — and dogs — have to eat!”

  Hear! Hear! Einstein seconded.

  The others laughed, interrupting their game of Dog Ball to cheer Elaine on. Dog Ball was a combination of soccer and dodge ball. The human in possession of the ball had to hit a dog on the opposite team with a mini soccer ball, then the dog switched sides. The first human to have all the dogs on his or her team won the round. Because Ariel played U-14 soccer, they usually gave Bertrand the handicap of starting off with an extra canine on his squad. Einstein was his last remaining player and Ariel took advantage of the situation by striking him with a direct hit while he was distracted supporting Elaine’s cause.

  “No fair!” Bertrand yelled.

  “He never called time-out!” Ariel shot back.

  The game dissolved into the usual round of shouting, barking and laughing that was certain to draw complaints from the Smiths’ more cantankerous neighbours. They weren’t breaking any rules, though. Forestview owners were allowed one dog and one cat. Of the pack only Genie and Einstein lived in the complex; the others were guests.

  Breeze lived with Elaine. Cap and Blizzard still considered themselves wild — although as often as not they stayed in a “doggie guest house” in the Smith’s back yard.

  “Things have turned out okay,” Bertrand said, flopping onto the grass under the shade of their favorite tree.

  They listened contentedly to the rustle of the breeze in the leaves.

  “They have turned out okay, haven’t they?” he repeated, feeling a bit uneasy because no one had bothered to agree.

  It had been almost a month since the spectacular collapse of AMOS. No mention had been made in the media of the underground arms manufacturing and distribution centre. The explosions had been portrayed as an industrial accident caused by the inappropriate use of illegal materials by an unscrupulous manufacturer. Hindquist’s helicopter crash was attri
buted to pilot error.

  It seems to be okay, Genie said cautiously.

  But you’re not convinced.

  No, she answered. Not completely.

  Bertrand didn’t push the conversation. She was right, of course. For one thing, they knew too much about the Global Council and its objectives to ever be completely safe; for another, the Global Council knew too much about them.

  Councillor Ivan Petrovitch had been coming round to Hindquist’s way of thinking about SMART dogs, Genie had explained already. She didn’t have any doubts that a dossier existed somewhere in the Global Council’s gargantuan computer network labeled Top Secret: Sequenced Mental Acceleration Research Trials.

  “Burgs are ready!” Elaine announced.

  Come on, Einstein said. Let’s eat.

  “Yeah!” Bertrand agreed. “I’m starved.”

  Einstein Dog is CRAIG SPENCE’S second novel for young readers, following Josh and the Magic Vial (Thistledown Press, 2006), which was nominated for both a BC Book Prize and the Chocolate Lily Award. Spence lives in Langley, BC.