I let that slide. Arguing with him would only get in the way of the story. “What would you have done with the money?”
He snorted. “Same thing I’m doing now. Same thing I’m going to do with the grant money you got for me. Hire some more men. Put in real boundaries. Get ready to defend this place against all comers. Jack thinks Beck-Lewis will last forever. I know better. Beck-Lewis is a holding action, a way of Corporate America getting the rights to public land they knew they could use. Throw the dog a bone and it’s busy while you rob the store. I knew it was only a matter of time before the world found us. Only I figured it would be an economic way of mining the shale or harvesting the buffalo grass or full spectrum solar power or something like that. After all, the only thing that stops capitalism is more capitalism. I didn’t figure on you.”
Two days after Akela came back I only had Sam’s background stories, Goldie’s footage and a limited amount of conversation from Jack to show for it. There was enough here for a feature or two but I wanted more. This story had possibilities. This story had legs. I wanted to see Jack in action. I needed to capture the pack in a real hunt, not wolves living comfortably and easily on rats. Where’s the drama in that?
I tried to pin Jack down. He was lying on his back in the sun. Akela was sitting next to him and Raksha was in her customary curl, snuggled against him with her head on his shoulder. They looked like a couple. It was Akela that looked like a family friend.
Maybe that’s the way it was.
“So,” I began. Jack didn’t move but he tensed suddenly. “Why didn’t you have yourself anatomically altered?”
Jack sat up suddenly. Raksha rolled over, startled. “What do you mean?”
I gestured to Raksha. “It looks like there’s more than paternal affection between you two. Akela is the one that’s the uncle. Not you.”
He looked down. All this time, he had just been a primitive man living with the wolves. But now, he was suddenly brought back into civilization for a moment. The distance between him and the world had narrowed to nothing in a heartbeat. I could see it run through his mind as if he were shouting at me. Broadcasting the interchange between us that had just happened, if done in the right way, would brand him instantly a pervert. It didn’t even have to be true; the allegation would take on a life of its own and any perception of him would be defined by it. People he knew would reconsider all of their memories of him: did the rude gesture on the playground lead to this? Could he have meant that all along? People he didn’t know would make instant and unshakable judgments of him.
I read once that human beings were the only animals that were incapable of domestication. The man who wrote it did not understand people at all. Human beings are the most easily domesticated animal of all; they do it to themselves. Jack had forsaken all that for the love of the pack and now it had come back home to roost. Being thought a pervert mattered to him.
I could see him considering options. Denying it would make no difference. It was the allegation that caught the imagination, not the facts. Baring it all would be better and that was not acceptable. He could kill me—I could see the appraising expression. But he had no idea if the material was on my person. It could be anywhere—it could be broadcast already and then he would have nothing to lose. Besides that, killing someone opened up another whole basket of worms. Could he hush it up? Could he do it at all?
“I don’t work that way,” I said quietly. “I send the material to my home base and edit it later. I don’t do live work.”
He looked up at me with a flicker of hope. “What do I have to do to keep this private?”
“I need to see the pack in action. I need to see a hunt.”
He nodded. “Done. It might take some time to set it up.”
“I can wait.”
He lay back down. He stared into the sky with an absent expression. Before he had been a simple man living a simple life. Now, a secret contorted him. I wondered if he would be able to live here much longer.
“It wouldn’t be fair,” he said suddenly.
“Fair?” I shook my head in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“Being anatomically altered. I’m too smart—any human would be in the same position. I could become alpha but I’d be sterile. The pack wouldn’t have any offspring.”
“You could have had your testes replaced with that of a wolf,” I pointed out. “You could have sired more wolves.”
He looked at me with a weary patience. “And what would be the point? My pack has wolves for that.”
What would be the point to any of this? I almost said but thought better of it. I had what I needed.
I awoke to find Jack rummaging in a small rucksack. He was wearing clothes of a sort; he wore a tight loincloth whose edges were buried in his fur. He caught me looking at him.
“I can’t carry a knife in my hands all the time,” he said defensively. “Besides, it has a cup.”
“I thought everything ... down there retracted.”
He pulled out a pair of knives, one with a nine-inch broad blade and the second a short curved one, and fastened them to the loincloth. “It does,” he said, checking his equipment. “But I’m still more vulnerable there than they are.”
He put on the rucksack. “I’m going north with Akela. It’ll take some hours to get some of the pack together. It won’t be a full hunt—we’re pretty spread out this time of year. But four or five of us will do. Do you have a locator with you?”
“Old style GPS and new style LLS. I know where I am.”
He nodded. “Go due north seven miles. There is a rock formation there that looks like old bread dough. Sam used to call it ‘The Dumplings’ when we were kids. Wait there for me. By that time, we should have everybody and know if there’s something nearby. We might have to wait some days but you said you could wait.”
“What are you going to hunt?”
“I don’t know yet.” He rose and barked at Akela. The two of them loped off into the distance while I packed up.
Raksha had stayed behind with the pups. The look she gave me was one of pure hatred.
It took six hours of walking to reach the Dumplings. No one, wolf or man, was waiting for me when I got there. I made camp and then climbed to the top of the boulders. I could see no one. Even Goldie failed to spot anyone as she flew above us. Darkness fell three hours later and still no sign of Jack or his pack.
Here I could see a couple of trees. Certainly, not enough deadwood to build a fire. Not to mention it was illegal to build any fire in Beck-Lewis. That didn’t stop me from wanting one. It was cold and lonely in the dark and the glow of the heater didn’t quite measure up. I was careful in the adjustment not to set a brush fire. I had a lot of resources even here in the wilderness but I couldn’t outrun a wind-driven fire.
The crickets and frogs were loud. Somewhere nearby there must have been a lake or a pond.
“Glad you made it,” Jack said sitting next to me. Akela lay down gracefully next to the light.
It only took a couple of minutes for my heart to start again. “That probably took a year of my life.”
“No doubt,” he said, indifferently. “We found a band of elk about two miles from here. Are you going to come with us personally or just send your bird?”
“I want to be there.”
“Okay. We’ll start before dawn.” He rubbed his hands in the glow of the heater. “Cozy.”
“Can’t wolves hunt at night?”
“Certainly, but I want you to get your money’s worth. We’re only going to do this once.” He fell silent.
I waited for him to speak. He clearly had something on his mind.
“Look,” he said at last. “We’re only going to pick off one but the others are going to react. It’s not a big herd but there are fifteen or so adults that weigh in at several hundred pounds. These aren’t pretty little cottontail deer or Yellowstone Park elk all nicely used to people. It’s been thirty years since they were hunted up here by huma
n beings but wolves have been hunting them pretty steadily for the last twelve years or so. They have no fear of man and wolves piss them off. If they’re running and you’re in the way they won’t turn politely aside. They’ll run you down or pick you up and throw you away. You’re going to have to be very, very quiet on the way over and sit very still while we’re there. These elk may or may not remember the smell of people but they sure know the smell of wolves and when the hunt starts, you better stay out of the way.”
“You’re people.”
“I don’t smell that way to the elk.”
I didn’t say anything for a bit. “How do I be that quiet?”
“You’ll leave everything here. All your instruments. All your camping equipment. Everything except your clothes and whatever you need for your hawk. As it is we’re going to go in downwind with you and then leave you on your own while we go after them.”
Downwind, I thought. He’s going to drive them downwind. “Aren’t they going to come right at me? You’re not trying to get rid of me, are you Jack?”
Jack looked at me steadily. He looked more human right now than he ever had before. “Don’t think it hasn’t crossed my mind.” He stood up. Akela rose up with him and they walked out into the darkness.
I didn’t sleep well that night.
There was no hint of light when Jack woke me up. I had slept in my hiking clothes. I had nothing but Goldie, Goldie’s controller and a paper notepad. Jack nodded in approval but still pulled off the outer lining of my jacket.
“The material makes too much noise when you walk.”
He took off at a fast pace. There were no wolves in sight.
“Where’s Akela?” I said in a whisper.
“Still too loud,” he breathed. “Akela and the other wolves are ahead and waiting for us. Now, hush.”
We walked for perhaps an hour and a half—stumbled, really. The ground was uneven and filled with holes of voles or mice or other prairie animals. Jack caught me each time before I could make a noise. The sky was clear and filled with stars and cold. The dew on the grass made my pants wet and without the outer lining my legs grew numbingly cold. My hands ached and my feet felt about as sensitive as sullen blocks of wood.
A faint wind whispered in the dark and Jack stopped me. He looked around and sniffed the air. He pulled me a hundred yards in another direction and pushed me down into a crouch. I looked up and saw a bluff darkly leading away into more darkness. There had to be a river near here.
“Don’t send your bird up until you see us in action. You might spook them too early.”
“Okay.”
He grunted. “Should be quite a show.”
Nothing happened for a while as the sky gradually began to lighten. I held Goldie close to keep her warm. She muttered a bit to herself every now and then but it was no louder than my breathing.
It was going to be one of those clear, burnished summer mornings, when the air is so crystalline and still that every reflection is a point of sunlight, every color is glowing, every sound is sharp and precise. The world has crackling electricity wired into it and each movement, each action, releases energy.
I could see the elk in the distance now, huge beasts, five feet at the shoulder with another four feet of antler over their backs. As the light brightened, I saw them with their heads raised, tasting the air. I could tell the cows from the bulls by sheer size. The bulls were nearly twice as big. Some might have been over a thousand pounds. They jerked their heads in different directions. There was a wariness about them. Perhaps they had already scented the pack.
Then, the dawn broke and they started milling about uncertainly. Something was going on but I couldn’t see what.
Things happened at once, the herd started running this way and that, first trying one direction then another. Two bulls lowered their heads and charged but the grass hid their targets from me.
I sent up Goldie and in a moment I saw on the monitors two—no, three—no, five—wolves running in circular patterns, running into the herd briefly and out again. I had no idea what was going on.
On the ground, all I saw were quick brown streaks through the grass. Glimpses, only. I had no idea they were so fast. They barely registered before I lost them.
I watched their faces on the monitors, tongues out, running easily, looking as if they were laughing. It didn’t look serious. I couldn’t see Jack. I had Goldie fly in circles. I had to get pictures of Jack.
I finally caught him loping just below the herd. He was running easily, not working hard just yet. Watching the wolves. It looked like he was calling to them but Goldie’s audio couldn’t pick him out.
Then he changed direction and sprinted towards one edge of the herd. Three wolves came in behind a single huge bull and two others danced around between the herd and the bull.
“Jesus,” I said. Didn’t wolves go after the weak or the sick? Cows and calves? Maybe the bull was old.
The bull stood his ground against two of the wolves, menacing them with his antlers but that freed one to nip at his back legs. He lashed out and the wolf flew five feet and rolled, came up again and back towards the bull. This was not a weak or sick bull. This was a giant buck full in his prime.
The other two wolves succeeded in turning the herd away. The herd ran off to my left. Goldie got some good shots of them leaving. Now, the bull was on his own.
Goldie circled as the wolves worried the bull. He wouldn’t run. He faced one, then two, then three of them, all the while being worried by any wolf he was not directly facing. It didn’t look like hard work but foam came from his mouth and his sides were heaving.
Then he broke and ran and the wolves worked him into a circle, two wolves chasing him and nipping him, three holding back and taking turns. Jack moved between the bull and me. He pulled out his knife and then disappeared into the long grass.
The bull was growing tired. Even so, he caught one wolf that got too careless and tossed him twenty feet. The wolf lay still.
Three wolves shot forward and snapped at his legs while only one stayed in front.
The bull ran forward at the wolf. The wolf darted out of the way—I saw it was Akela. The bull was running straight towards me.
I saw him running directly at me, his eyes focused ahead, seeing his only chance and going for it. I could feel his hooves pounding through the soles of my shoes. I couldn’t seem to hear anything; all sound had disappeared from the world.
Jack leaped from where he had been hiding in the grass. In two eight-foot bounds, he was running just to the side of the bull’s head. Without stopping, the bull brought his head down to bring the antlers to bear on him. Jack leaped and caught them. He was in the air with his knife hand below the throat of the bull. The bull tossed his head back to throw Jack aside and the force of it drove the knife deeply in and across his throat.
Jack was thrown in the air, landed curled and rolling, bounced to his feet and ran after the elk.
The bull staggered, blood pouring from his throat as if from a bucket, ropes of it hanging from his muzzle. He shook his head slowly. Jack caught up with him and drove the knife into his eye. The elk fell, boneless and flaccid, to the ground.
Jack didn’t say anything for a long second. Then, he punched the air with his fist and cried out: “Yes!”
“Jesus,” I said.
Jack heard me, looked up at me and grinned.
I had never seen so much blood in my life. The ground was stained with it ten feet around the bull. The wolves were covered with it as they merrily tore the elk apart. Goldie stood on my shoulder and took sequence after sequence. This was great footage.
“Did you see that?” he said standing next to me. Jack was drenched in elk blood from neck to knees, his fur coarse with it, his hands burnt red to the elbows. “Did you just see it?” He shook his head and grinned at me. “I’ve wanted to do that for years. Since I was a kid.” Still grinning, he looked around.
“I bet,” I said, watching Goldie in the monitors.<
br />
After a moment, I noticed Jack had grown silent.
I looked up from the monitor and didn’t see him. “Jack?” I called.
“Over here.”
I followed his voice over a small rise and found him in the deep grass. He was tending to the fallen wolf. There was an angry set to his mouth. The wolf’s whole side had been opened and I could see the ribs and muscles exposed. Mostly, the wolf panted but every now and then he yipped as Jack probed the wound. Once, he snapped at Jack’s fingers.
“It’s not as bad as it looks,” Jack said suddenly and I wondered who he was trying to convince: himself or me.
“It looks pretty bad.”
Jack didn’t say anything for a moment, his lips thin. “Well,” he said finally. “It is pretty bad. But he’ll have two months to heal before the winter sets in. If this had happened in the winter it would have been all over for him. Winters are hard.” He leaned back and looked at the wolf. “Of course, we would never have attacked an elk like that in the winter.”
He pulled a capsule out of his rucksack and broke it under the wolf’s nose. The wolf lay down and closed his eyes. “I have about twenty minutes now.”
“Is that long enough?” I said. I checked and made sure Goldie was getting this.
“Sure,” he said as he pulled out his instruments. He cleaned out the wound expertly and splashed it with disinfectant and then sprinkled what I assumed was antibiotics over it. Then, with one practiced move after another, he sewed the wound shut. Once he had finished that, he plastered a bandage over it. The wolf was stirring as Jack measured out something from a vial and injected him. The wolf didn’t even flinch.
“He’ll walk back with me. There are enough voles for all of us back with Raksha. For now, we’ll just let him sleep for a while.”
The Year's Best Science Fiction: Twentieth Annual Collection Page 67
