Norton, Andre - Anthology (7 page)

 
          
 
"Right. To stay numero uno in my field, I
have to keep adding to the act. Yes, this is dangerous. But I have to have it,
Amii. So leave it. Drop it now."

 
          
 
She might have kept arguing, but their oldest
burst in, carrying a housecat whose head was solid black, but whose color faded
slowly from front to back, until the tail was a silvery gray. "Momma, the
funniest thing happened just now with Jetlag."

 
          
 
"Oh." She forced a smile. Then,
"Not too loud, honey, Danny's still asleep."

 
          
 
Linda dismissed her four-year-old brother's
nap with a shrug. "But the funniest thing happened, Mom. Jet-lag
disappeared."

 
          
 
Amii had to laugh. "Honey, Jetlag's a
cat. He's always disappearing." .

 
          
 
"Especially when Tie'§ exploring a new
site." Harry's voice was partially muffled by the wet towel, which also
made it sound a little hoarse ... as if he were frightened, which was nonsense,
Amii thought. "Your mom doesn't need to know about Jetlag, she's known him
longer than you have," Harry continued, in a more normal voice as he slung
the towel over his now bare shoulder.

 
          
 
"But it was so funny, Mom. I was looking
and looking for Jetlag, and calling and calling. But I couldn't find him."

 
          
 
Amii chuckled. ''I may not be bred a lion
tamer, honey, but I know cats. Jetlag could have been under your feet, but if
he didn't want to come, he wouldn't have, and you'd've never seen him."

 
          
 
"I know. But I haven't got to the funny
part yet." Behind her, Amii heard teeth grinding.

 
          
 
Linda's eyes were suddenly wide. "Lobo
got loose."

 
          
 
Amii stiffened. "Out of the cage loose,
you mean."

 
          
 
"Yes. Tandri must not have closed the
gaps properly. Anyway, he was loose and wandering around, and I saw him, and I
was worried about Jetlag. I mean, he'd make one bite for Lobo. Then Dad—"
Her eyes glowed with hero worship. "Dad just sailed through the fence with
the big cats, and strolled up to Lobo as though he wasn't the biggest fiercest
wolf in the circus. Then the next I knew, Lobo was rolling over for Dad to
scratch his tummy!"

 
          
 
Amii rolled her eyes. Harry groaned under his
breath.

 
          
 
"And Daddy kept scratching his tummy
until Tandri could get behind him with the leash and snap it on. But that isn't
the funny part, Mom!"

 
          
 
"I'm glad there's a funny part,"
Amii got out between her teeth.

 
          
 
"Jetlag came up while Daddy was playing
with Lobo, and I think Jetlag was jealous! I was gonna run grab Jetlag, but
Daddy waved me back." Her lip pouted.

 
          
 
"Thank God for small favors," Amii
muttered under her breath.

 
          
 
"And Jetlag just sat by Daddy's knees
while Daddy played with Lobo. Then you know what happened then, Mommy?"

 
          
 
"No." Too sweetly. "You tell
me." .

 
          
 
"It was so funny, Mommy. When Tandri
snapped the leash on his collar, Lobo stood up, and leaned over . . . at
Jetlag. and then he—" A loud giggle. "He licked Jetlag. On the face.
Jetlag jumped back, and shook his head. Lobo just grinned and went with Tandri.
But Jetlag kept shaking his head and sort of jumping around, his face all
scrunched up." Another giggle. "Jetlag's always washing himself. Why
should it bother him if Lobo does it for him?"

 
          
 
"Jetlag's a cat, honey, just like your
daddy's a man." Green slanted eyes held a message of anger ... and
gratitude. "Jetlag's a cat, and he likes to wash himself. But he doesn't
like other people to do it for him, any more than you used to like me cleaning
your ears and so forth for you when you were little."

 
          
 
"Oh." A happy smile. "Do you
think Lobo thought Jetlag's a baby, because he's so much littler than
Lobo?"

 
          
 
"I expect that's it, honey," Amii
agreed. "Though I wouldn't count on it working if Lobo was hungry."
Changing the subject: "Have you done your schooling assignments yet?
"

 
          
 
"Ahhhhh, Mom. I'm gonna be a lion tamer
like Dad when I grow up. What do I need mathematics and all that other stuff
for?"

 
          
 
"If you haven't noticed that any of the
folk, even the roustabouts, can take over any job on the ship in a pinch, I'm
surprised at you, honey. Suppose the navigator is sick. Your daddy or I or any
of the others could at least limp us to a port. Or fix stuff, or keep the
computer books—" Linda's lip was jutting out.

 
          
 
"Or whatever's needed. And so will you,
young lady. Even if you're the best lion tamer in the universe ... next to
Daddy, of course ... you'll be a danger to the circus. All of us have a lot of
jobs. The animal folk less than others, because animals take so much caring
for. Suppose something happened to one of your animals, and the vet was tied up
elsewhere. You'd have to be able to use the computer files to tell you what to
do, and be able to do it."

 
          
 
Linda's lip almost folded over, it was stuck
out so far.

 
          
 
Amii suddenly looked; dangerous.
"Daughter, I don't need to give explanations, even though that one is
true. I say, Do it, and that's all you need to hear. Now, scat!"

 
          
 
Linda knew that tone. Lip still out, she disappeared
into her tiny room.

 
          
 
"I'd better hear the click of keys,"
Amii warned.

 
          
 
"Weren't you a little rough?" Harry
asked softly.

 
          
 
"Yes," she admitted, and shivered.
"But Lobo ..."

 
          
 
"I was between them before he was close
enough to do anything to her."

 
          
 
"I know." She leaned against him.
"I know." A soft sigh. "But what about you."

 
          
 
He hugged her. "Cats, dogs, not that much
difference. Besides, Lobo and I have been friends for years. He's a lot more
bluff than fact, Amii."

 
          
 
Harry was feeding the cats when the giant claw
came out and rested just beside his left eye. “well,” said the mental voice he
had learned to hate.

 
          
 
"I did what you said," Harry
muttered. He knew Diavolo could hear him as easily if he said it only in his
mind, but if he spoke aloud, he could pretend that the "exotic
animal" was only that, and he was talking to himself or another human.

 
          
 
A chuckle that was half lion's warning cough
and half deep devil's cackle. **did they accept? more important, did he
accept?**

 
          
 
Harry shuddered. "Yes. He's coming. The
one you want. Three tickets, three acceptances. And nobody should notice. I
just added the name to the publicity ticket list."

 
          
 
**good** The claw withdrew into the toe, and
the paw moved away from his face. Harry grabbed at it, to have the physical
connection, and snarled.

 
          
 
"What about my son? He's still
sick!"

 
          
 
The mental voice held both threat and
contempt. **and he'll stay sick until I am finished, do as you're told, man**
The "man" sounded like a woman talking about a garden slug, with
disgust and disdain. **exactly as you're told and he'll recover, cross me and
they'll all die, one by one.**

 
          
 
Harry shuddered and dropped the paw. The
exotic, who looked like a sleek black leopard, if leopards came two meters long
with saber teeth and eyes of liquid topaz intelligence, drew back his lips in a
sneer. Harry didn't need the telepathic link, which only held with direct flesh
to flesh contact, to interpret that expression.

 
          
 
"Oh, God, oh, God help me," Harry
was moaning as he fed the rest of the animals. While worrying about the
sentient masquerading as an animal; and why he wanted one particular man in the
audience. In one of the privileged front row seats where he could lean down and
touch the acts as they went by.

 
          
 
Or the acts—or one of them—could stretch up
and touch him.

 
          
 
Boris looked at the neat printout that told
him he had only to show identification at the box office of the circus to claim
three seats in the front row center. For purposes of publicity, it said, we
have allotted certain prominent citizens free seats ...

 
          
 
"Well, Oberon." He reached down and
petted the large old cat sleeping by his feet. "Your family is going to
the circus. Doesn't that sound like fun?"

 
          
 
An excited screep he was beginning to know and
flinch at interrupted him, and the new orange tabby kitten his wife had allowed
someone at work to foist off on her came galloping in, hit a wall, and used
Oberon and then his knee to jump on the keyboard.

 
          
 
"Agrh!" Boris plucked the bouncing
animal off his keyboard, and surveyed the damage. "Nuisance, you are NOT
to come in here," he told the animal, quivering in its eagerness to play.

 
          
 
"Screep," said Nuisance. (Whatever
her permanent name would be, she was Nuisance for now.) She twisted around to
lick Boris' wrist, then made a wriggle and landed on the keyboard. Its clicks
seemed to fascinate her, and she did a dance on the keys.

 
          
 
"That does it," Boris roared. This
time he picked up the kitten and tucked her under one arm. "Loi! Come get
this miserable cretin!"

 
          
 
"But, Daddy, I'm doin^ school work."

 
          
 
"I'm working, too." Ffe was heading
into her room. Oberon, who had opened one eye at the furor, closed it. His
wheezing snores followed Boris and the wriggling infant cat out the door.

 
          
 
"I'm almost through." Loi looked up
from her console, all innocence. "Then I'll take him, Daddy."

 
          
 
"You promised," Boris muttered. He
stayed there, petting the little bundle of mischief, until Loi turned off her
console and held out her hands.

 
          
 
It wasn't until he was back in his study that
he realized that he had, in essence, ordered his daughter to stop doing her
schoolwork to play with the kitten.

 
          
 
But that thought lasted no longer than his
first good look at the chaos caused by the kitten's paws on the keyboard.

 
          
 
His howl of anguish penetrated even the closed
door of Loi's room. But she only smiled smugly and held the soundmuffs she had
taken off just before letting the kitten out of her room higher, for Nuisance
to leap for.