Anthony, Piers - Balook
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2024-12-07
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Balook
BREAKOUT
1
THOR NEMMEN CLIMBED the steps of the high stile and looked over the fence. The top strand was
electrified, and was six meters above the ground—almost twenty feet in the old measure. That had once been a
daunting height.
Thor always paused at this point, aware of his vulnerability. Today there was a moderate wind that tugged at his
clothing, as if to nudge him off his perch. Nearby stood the pretty trees of the estate: small poplar, with the
leaves shimmering; taller birch, with the white bark that looked as if it had been carelessly painted in horizontal
swipes; and still taller pine, the seeming monarch of this forest. The whole region was growing up, now that all
trees of all types were protected species, and it was good.
But the trees beyond the fence were in poorer state
than those on the side from which he had come. They
were relatively lean, their lower branches pruned well
back. New growth was showing on some, but it
would be long before their foliage was normal. Only
above the level of about eight meters was it full.
"Balook!" he called. No point in climbing down
inside, when he could ride instead.
There was no response. Concerned, Thor peered
across the forest pasture. He hoped his huge friend
wasn't sick. Ordinarily Balook came galloping
eagerly, nose lifted, tail trailing, shaking the ground
with his solid hooves. But this morning the landscape
was vacant from pond to pines.
Quickly Thor swung himself over the top and trotted
down the inner ramp. He jumped the last meter to the
ground and ran along the fence toward the distant
stable. "Balook!" he called again.
Half a kilometer along, he came across disaster. A
tremendous hole had been ripped in the fence, as
though a juggernaut had smashed through, two meters
above the ground. The topmost cable was all that
remained of the upper two-thirds of the barrier.
Thor stopped and stared, aghast at the damage. He
had not believed that anything short of a runaway
construction tractor could break that fence. That would have left treadmarks on the ground and taken out the
bottom section, not the top. Anything except—
Then the significance of the break came to him. Suddenly he was running at top speed, shouting. "Balook!
Balook
Balook's broken out!"
Breathless, he rushed up to the ranch house and pounded on the door. "Skip! Skip! Balook's gone!"
The guest-screen in the door lighted and the burly foreman's face appeared. "Shut up and make sense a minute!"
the face snapped, seeming gruffer than it was.
"Skip, Balook broke out!" Thor cried.
The door sprang open, propelled by an imperative foot. The foreman ran his thumbnail along the crease of his
plastic shirt, sealing it shut. Obviously he had been interrupted while getting dressed; his feet were bare, his
thinning red hair tousled. "Don't talk nonsense, lad! That fence is anchored by twenty-thousand-pound cable."
Quickly Thor translated the man's old-fashioned measurement into familiar terms: twenty thousand pounds
would be about nine thousand kilograms, or nine metric tons. "How much does Balook weigh, now?"
"Nine tons," Skip said, spraying on temporary slippers. Then, as he waited a few seconds for the porous plastic
to set, he did a doubletake. "By jingo, lad, you're right! Balook could break out, if he had a mind to! I keep
thinking of him as the little tyke he was when we started." Skip's tons were only nine tenths as big as Thor's, but
hardly made a difference in this case. "But why would he want to?"
Thor hadn't thought of it that way. Now he felt an unfamiliar lump in his throat. "He doesn't want to! He likes it
here!"
"And why no alarm? You say the fence is broken, and mind you, I'm not questioning your word, lad, but the
current must have been interrupted, then. Are you sure—?"
"I'll show you the place," Thor said quickly. "The power strands are still in place. He must have shied away
from them."
Skip followed him down to the fence. The break was in the forest section, so they had to get quite close before it
was visible. Thor was perversely afraid it wouldn't be there, now that he had announced it, and that he'd be
shown up for a fifteen year old wolf-crier. But then they saw it. "There!" he cried.
Skip inspected the break with professional competence. "He broke it, all right! The force was from the inside.
Must've ducked his head and pulled up his feet and hurtled through. I should have known he was getting too big
for this compound."
"But why?" Thor cried, seeing it as a personal betrayal. Then his lip curled, as he got a notion. "Someone must
have been teasing him again—peppering him with buckshot—"
Skip reached across and tousled Thor's hair—an action Thor had never much liked, yet had not been able to
protest. Their hair was the same color, but Thor's was much thicker. It seemed that this gave Skip a proprietary
right. "You've been reading westerns again, lad. Citizens don't carry guns any more, remember? Not unless
they're deputized for some emergency. Not since those assassinations of the Sixties and Seventies—"
"And Eighties and Nineties," Thor agreed. "I know. But Balook just wouldn't have done it on his own!"
Skip shook his head. "He's a big, big animal, lad. Largest hoofer ever. Twice the size of an elephant. Now he's
filling out, maybe feeling his oats."
"Balook doesn't eat oats!"
Skip half-smiled. "Lots of males feel 'em that don't eat 'em, lad. You will too, soon enough. We don't know
Balook
what's going on in his long head."
"But he wouldn't leave me!"
Skip didn't answer directly. "Remember," he said grimly, "he's big, but he's not smart. He could be hurt or lost
already—and it'll take at least two days to requisition a copter."
Thor's anger turned to apprehension for Balook, then back to anger. He was furious at this seemingly callous
appraisal, for he loved Balook better than any person. But he was also angry at the animal for walking out on
him in the night. It wasn't just the matter of breaking out; it was that Balook had gone alone, not waiting for
Thor.
Gone where?
Skip looked at the tracks. The footprints were so heavy that the soft ground remained depressed, and the huge
three toes showed separately. "No one forced him, looks like. See, lad—the spoor leads straight up to the break,
and straight away from it. Little blood... and that's from the broken wires as he went through. He knew what he
was doing, all right. He had somewhere to go." Then, before Thor could make another meaningless protest:
"Come on, lad—we'd better have a huddle with the boss."
Thor followed the foreman, numb. How could Balook have done this? The huge, friendly animal had always
sought Thor's company, and mourned when Thor was absent. Balook knew that Thor always came for a visit in
the morning, and so he was always near the stile. To take off like this—it just didn't make sense!
They met with the Project Manager, Don Scale, in his crowded office. Scale was in his fifties, and somewhat
pudgy and short; he looked incompetent, but probably wasn't. Thor had never really gotten along with him.
Manuals and papers were piled up on the desk, and pictures of the Project layout were on the near wall. At one
edge of a side table lay a portable self-powered lie detector that had always fascinated Thor. Its technical name
was complex and irrelevant, and it wasn't intended as a security measure anyway. Every day Scale used it to
take a reading on Balook, to determine the animal's overall state of health and tension; if Balook was nervous or
in minor pain, the needle swung off the TRUE marker toward FALSE. The stronger the upset, the farther over
the needle went.
Thor smiled to himself. There were years' worth of readings in the Project files, but they were meaningless.
Balook did not like Scale and was always tense when the man came near. When Scale had been away for some
conference, Skip took the readings—and they were much different, much closer to TRUE. Scale was in effect
taking his own pulse. Somehow the man had never quite caught on to that.
Skip quickly filled Scale in. "No sign of foul play," he finished. "Must've wanted to get out and explore the
neighborhood."
"And maybe that curiosity will kill him!" Scale snapped. "He must be recovered at all costs!"
"He may not want to be recovered," Skip said. "He's basically a wild animal, come of age—"
"He's tame!" Thor cried.
"Tame around you, Nemmen," Scale said. He always used Thor's surname, which was one of the reasons Thor
disliked him. Scale had never approved of Thor's participation in the Project, and seemed to be constantly trying
to depersonalize him. "Less so around the rest of us. And as for strangers—"
"He's wary of them," Thor agreed. "But any animal would be. Especially when they tend to see him as a freak."
Balook
"There is a tremendous amount of money and skill invested in this project," Scale said. "The beast is unique.
We must take all feasible steps—"
"Money!" Thor cried contemptuously. There was yet another thing about the man that annoyed him: his
preoccupation with money. To him Balook was not a living creature so much as an investment. Beast, indeed!
"Listen, young man!" Scale said sharply, for once forgetting the surname as his fat jowl tightened. "You're only
here on sufferance—"
Skip put a cautioning hand on Scale's arm. "Easy, boss. The lad's got as much invested as anybody, only not in
Caesar's coin. And he's the only one of us Balook really trusts."
Scale grudgingly calmed himself. "Still, he ought to appreciate the gravity of the situation. If that animal kills
one human being—"
"Balook would never harm a person!" Thor cried. He had to fight back unmanly tears at the notion of such a
charge. He could debate an issue about any other animal with vigor, but Balook was special. "He's gentle and
shy—"
"He's a rhinoceros," Scale said. "Rhinos are ornery—especially the big ones. He could turn ugly."
"Not intentionally," Skip said, answering compassionately. "I've got to agree with the lad, sir—Balook is
basically gentle." He returned to Thor. "But his sight is weak, especially in daylight. And he's big, mighty big.
The way he broke that fence—well, he'd be hard put to it to stop in time, if he saw a man in the way. If he
stampeded—"
Thor put his face in his hands. He knew that Balook could stampede, and in that state crush anything in his path.
Then he would have to be killed, for that was the law. Visitors were warned away from the ranch, nominally for
their own protection, but actually for Balook's. Now Balook was loose in human territory; all bets were off.
"The money is extremely close," the Manager said. "If we lose Balook, it will be all over for the Project."
To that much Thor could agree wholeheartedly, though without gaining any respect for Scale.
The men continued to discuss pros and cons in practical terms. Thor was unable to keep his mind on such
things. Balook was gone!
He remembered how he had first met Balook, back when the Project had first taken over this forest ranch. He
had been a child of nine then, a neighbor's boy with time on his hands and boundless curiosity. He had never
gotten along well with children his own age, so was alone much of the time.
Unlike some loners, he was lonely. He had craved companionship, but not really of the human kind. His pet
pony had foundered and been put away, making it worse. He had related to that animal better than to any human
being. He had learned early that he could not afford to be open about his attachment, because others simply did
not regard such a thing as significant. An animal dead? Too bad, and get another as good or better than the first.
It was a nice animal? Surely so—but it was after all only a horse. Now stop whining and do your homework.
So he had wandered alone. The fence around the compound had not been as high and strong then, and the
grounds had remained in a state of natural wildness, rather than the cultivated wilderness of contemporary
fashion. It had been easy for a child to sneak in and poke about.
He had been amazed to discover a small zoo. Several female rhinoceroses were penned in what was now the
tremendous stable. They were not particularly friendly, and though their noses had been de-horned they
Balook
remained dangerous brutes. He stayed clear of them.
But one was different. It was naturally hornless,
and skinny and young—a year or less. It weighed
several times as much as the boy, but was
obviously a baby. It was grotesque even for a
rhino, yet also cute in the manner of any young
animal. In fact, it could be thought to resemble a
deformed pony. And it was lonely.
Thor had not realized just how remarkable that
ungainly calf was. It nursed on the mother rhinos,
who tolerated it only because they were confined
and drugged, but it was of a different species.
None of them could have birthed it naturally;
none would lick it or comfort it, this homely
pseudo-rhino. This ugly duckling creature.
The thing was miserable. Men took care of it,
cleaned its pen, washed its body, inoculated it,
exercised it, protected it... and the rest of the time
it stood in its isolated pen and bawled until it
slept.
Thor recognized the tone; he had often felt that
way himself. The calf was emotionally isolated.
When Thor extended his hand to it through the
slats, it had first shied away in fright, then come
close to sniff and lick eagerly, making little
sounds of gratification. It seemed that no one had
come to it before, just for company.
All it needed was a friend.
Thor had a similar need.
They had become associates, surreptitiously.
Thor would hide until the keepers went to the
back shed for private beer and poker. Then he would join Balook, petting the calf, talking to him, brushing
down his soft fur, being his friend. The calf was comforted, and so was the boy.
It was, really, the only friendship either party had, that asked for nothing in return except acceptance and
companionship.
But Thor got careless, after several weeks, and did not allow for random variations in the Project schedules. One
of the men caught him in the pen. Don Scale was summoned. The Project Manager was appalled that his
invaluable charge was subject to the intrusions of a neighborhood brat. He reprimanded the boy severely and
banned him from the premises.
It was a blow to Thor, for there now seemed to be no use for his life. The long happy hours in the warm stable
had given meaning to his existence. Without Balook there was nothing.
Balook
Balook, too, languished. He was five hundred kilograms of helplessness, bawling plaintively in his pen. After a
few days he gave up and lay there whimpering, lacking the initiative even to feed. The joy of companionship he
had learned was now cruelly denied, and he had no way to understand. The lie-detector needle remained
steadily on FALSE, confirming that Balook was really in trouble.
Don Scale was not a stupid man, or an unduly arrogant one. He recognized the situation and resolved to make
the lesser evil of it. Young Thor Nemmen received a formal pass and was added to the payroll at a nominal rate,
with the title "Companion."
That had been six years ago. Ever since, Thor had visited Balook daily, playing with him, climbing all over him,
sharing his food in a fashion, snoozing with him. The animal had grown enormously, even after allowing for his
nature; Scale's charts showed above-projected gains. Thor taught the rhino how to heed his directions when he
rode, so they could share more fun by exploring the compound. Balook was never allowed to run loose within
the "business" section of the Project, but when he was with Thor it didn't count. Balook was no genius, even for
a rhino, but he was quick enough to learn that he had greater freedom when playing Thor's game than he did
otherwise. Besides, exploring was fun. There were green growing trees out there, his favorite food after he was
weaned from milk.
During school season they had to make special arrangements, for Balook could not understand the reason for
Thor's absences. Thus Thor was permitted to attend TV classes—with the set in Balook's pen. This was an
unforeseen blessing, for though Thor was willing to learn anything, he hated being crammed into a classroom
with his peers. Boys his age tended to be loutish. They respected only those who had the muscle or skill to
knock heads, and Thor was of barely average physical stature and had indifferent coordination. Some few boys
had the compensation of intellect; Thor was not competitive there either. As a person he was rated at sixes and
sevens; nobody found him worthwhile. Balook had freed him of that. To Balook, he was the greatest person in
the world.
The animal seemed to enjoy the programs, too,
though he could hardly have understood them.
Probably it was merely the rhino's feeling of
participation with his friend that gave him pleasure.
Once Thor had dreamed that he had dropped in on
Balook unexpectedly, and caught him doing
differential equations with his hoof in the dirt while
the TV had a college math class on. 'I didn't know
you could do that!' he exclaimed. 'Well, you never
asked,' Balook replied. Then Thor had caught on,
and woke up laughing. It was a foolish dream;
Balook was the most remarkable creature on earth
as he stood; he didn't need to be a genius too.
Once Balook had fallen ill, despite the precautions
of expensive veterinarians. Thor had to make special
arrangements to stay with him day and night; the
animal had little incentive to live without his friend.
While Thor would never have wished any misery on
Balook, it still gratified him to be so strongly needed.
Then there was the time Thor himself had surgery
for a small pollution-tumor on the lung. Air standards were strict, but violations occurred, and there was
Balook
considerable residual effect from the old days of uncontrolled waste. He was twelve then, and Balook was four.
They had to let Balook visit him, for the animal was unmanageable otherwise. Balook no longer bawled, he
bellowed. No stall would restrain his super-elephantine bulk when he sulked. But the truth was that Thor
himself did not prosper alone; that visit by the rhino was as necessary for his well-being as his had been for the
rhino. He liked to think that Balook had understood that, and had raised his fuss for that reason.
Thor smiled, remembering how the tremendous humped nose had poked into the second storey window,
horrifying an unwarned nurse. The special rhino smell had percolated through the building, generating
consternation in the staff and delighted comments from the children, who were reminded of the zoo or circus.
That first visit had done him much good—and so had the laugh. The other children at the hospital had been
thrilled by the strange event, and thereafter Thor had been very popular with them. That, too, had been an
unusual pleasure. Balook had made Thor a person of momentary distinction.
"What are you grinning about?" Scale demanded testily. "You don't seem to appreciate that this is a serious
business, Nemmen! Five hundred million dollars on the line, and if he balks—"
Evidently they had made some plan, that Thor should have been paying attention to. "I wasn't laughing about
what you said, sir," he admitted. "I just remembered how Balook scared that nurse when I was sick—"
"You weren't paying attention to what we said?" the man demanded ominously.
Thor made an embarrassed shrug. "I guess not."
"Listen, Nemmen, even a person of minimal intelligence—"
Skip interceded for him, as he often did. "The lad's
honest, Don. Balook trusts him. That's what counts,
isn't it? You know the farrier couldn't even trim his
hooves if Thor wasn't there to tell Balook to lift his
feet. So Thor thinks about Balook in off moments;
that's what he's here for, not high finance. He's
Balook's friend."
Which was about as good a summary of Thor's
place in the Project as could be offered. Skip had
made Thor's inattention seem like an asset!
Scale sighed windily, blowing out his cheeks. It
was a natural enough gesture, typical of him. Scale
was always a bit grumpy. But this time it triggered
an odd alarm in Thor.
For Scale's left hand came down to rest on the side table, on the trailing leads of the lie detector. And the needle
shot over to FALSE. Thor's peripheral vision caught the motion; he had the sense not to look directly, but there
was no question what it was. The needle normally rested on TRUE; motion could be only one way.
Scale was hiding something.
No—the man was merely tense because of Balook's breakout; naturally that tension registered on the detector.
Thor cautioned himself about being too eager to blame the man he didn't like anyway.
"And that nurse incident was funny," Skip continued. "Also the way Balook left droppings all over their
ornamental lawn, with all the patients watching. Great fertilizer; we should've charged them for it! Can't think
Balook
why the administrators weren't amused. Remember how that obnoxious hospital-ground bulldog went after him,
and a pellet fell right on its head?"
Thor choked, and Scale finally had to smile. "Served that canine right," he agreed. When it came to any threat
against Balook, no matter how minor, Scale was one with Skip and Thor. "Lucky Balook didn't step on him."
He removed his hand from the table, and the needle moved back to TRUE.
Sure, Scale was worried. But who was more worried about Balook's absence than himself, Thor wondered. He
couldn't resist a comparison. Without looking, he put his own hand on the table, across the leads of the lie
detector, as though by accident. His eyes flicked over to the meter.
The needle was holding steady about halfway toward FALSE.
Either Scale was twice as worried about Balook as Thor was—surely impossible!—or Scale had some guilty
knowledge. It had to relate to Balook, for that was the subject of discussion.
Or, could it relate to Thor himself? Skip had just vouched for Thor's honesty, and Scale had sighed and touched
the leads... and the needle had given him the lie. Did that make sense?
Skip turned to Thor. "As we see it, lad, you're our best hope. Balook will pay attention to you when he won't to
us. He's too big to transport by truck; it would take a flatcar to carry him—"
"You can't put him in a box!" Thor cried. "Balook hates confinement. He's never—"
"That's what I'm saying, lad," Skip said gently. "Anything smaller than a barn makes him nervous, and his
nervousness is like the rumble of a volcano. He has to come back under his own power, and nobody can lead
him on a tether! He's stubborn as—"
"As a rhino," Scale said. "And not one whit smarter."
"Sure he is!" Thor protested loyally.
Scale scowled. "Very well. One whit."
"So you'll have to ride him in," Skip concluded, overriding Thor's objection to Scale's comment.
"I ride him all the time! He guides perfectly!"
"Around the pasture, sure. But what about crosscountry, watching out for people and traffic? It's a hostile world
out there, lad—hostile for him and maybe for you too. If he spooked, you'd be finished."
"Balook would never hurt me!"
"Not intentionally," Skip said soberly.
"I'll bring him back!" Thor said. "Just as soon as I can find him!"
"He's naturally shy of people, and that's good," Skip said. "There's quite a bit of forest land around here, thanks
to the ecology splurge of the Seventies. If he stays out of trouble a few more hours, maybe you can do it."
"But you'll have to run him down cross-country," Scale said. "A copter would spook him, even if we had one
ready. So would a car, if it could get close."
"I know," Thor said eagerly. "I'll go on foot. I'm in pretty good condition, and he can't be far—"
"Lad, he walks at fifteen miles an hour, and runs at twenty-five or better," Skip said. "You'd never have a
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BalookPiersAnthonyBalookIllustrationsbyPatrickWoodroffeCONTENTSChapter1:BREAKOUTChapter2:PURSUITChapter3:THERIAChapter4:FREAKSChapter5:TREKChapter6:CHASEChapter7:TROUBLEChapter8:TRIALChapter9:MIOCENEChapter10:POWERAuthor'sNoteBalookBREAKOUT1THORNEMMENCLIMBEDthestepsofthehighstileandlookedoverthefenc...
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分类：外语学习
价格：5.9玖币
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时间：2024-12-07
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