Barry Longyear - Circusworld 2 - Elephant song

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To Martin Fleishman, M.D.

ELEPHANT SONG

A Berkley Book / published by arrangement with the author

PRINTING HISTORY

Berkley edition / April 1982

Cover illustration by John Rush.

This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part,

by mimeograph or any other means, without permission.

For information address: Berkley Publishing Corporation,

200 Madison Avenue, New York, New York 10016.

ISBN: 0-425-05167-6

A BERKLEY BOOK ® TM 757,375

The name "BERKLEY" and the stylized "B" with design are trademarks belonging to Berkley Publishing

Corporation.

PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

THE ELEPHANT

The elephant's a beast, 'tis said, That wears its tail upon its head; And where the beastie's tail

should be, A wrinkled suit's all one can see. It eats too much, its brain's too small It takes up

room from wall to wall; Ears too big, and feet too flat, Now, who could love a thing like that?

Yet, bullhands tell of circus rings Surrounded by those smelly things. Ballet girls would perch on

top While bullhands followed with a mop And spade and barrow to haul away The stuff the beasts et

yesterday. Bullhands speak of those squashed flat By giants who are sorry that Their keepers,

friends, companions all Must be scraped from off the wall.

Bullhands sing in tones adored Of all of those who have been gored, Or torn apart, or trampled

down By some bewrinkled, tusked clown. It's sad to say but it's no act, They love the beasts, and

that's a fact. And if you have but half a wit, Can't find that 'pon which you sit, Your back is

strong, your mind is weak, Your sense of smell is not at peak, Then what they say, my friends, is

true: You can be a bullhand too.

The Admiralty Office of the Tenth Quadrant Federation announced today that the circus starship,

City of Bamboo, enroute to the planet H'dgva in the Tenth Quadrant, failed to report in accordance

with its flight plan four days ago. Ninth and Tenth Quadtant-deep space radio searches detected

neither distress calls nor automatic emergency beacon signals. Standard trade route sweeps have

been begun.

The ship, housing the entire company of O'Hara's Greater Shows, the first of the interstellar

circuses, is presumed to have been lost with all hands.

BILLBOARD, May 29th, 2148, p.l.

ONE

In the darkness, above the atmosphere of the strange planet, ten smaller crafts detached

themselves from a great ship, fired their entry burns, and fell toward the planet's surface. When

the shuttles were little more than points of reflected light, the great ship seemed to wobble,

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then roll. For a moment the ship's movement seemed to stabilize, then its powerful engines gave a

brief, blinding flash, the ship nosed over, and dived toward the planet.

A huge man with a bandaged head moaned and opened his eyes as he felt the reality around him

shaking, then slamming to a devastating halt. He closed his eyes as pains that could melt steel

shot through his head.

Noises. The smell of acid. The smell of smoke.

He drove awareness from his mind. There was so much to drive away. A dying ship, a dying show, a

dying daughter—

"Get these two patched up, fast! I need them back on the radios."

"Are we down?"

"Are we down, Mange? Hell yes we're down! Just put a dent in a goddamned mountain!"

... so much to keep away: a dying show, a dying daughter, dying itself, the bulls—

He opened his eyes and stared blankly at the blur of rushing, screaming bodies. Someone had said

something about the bulls—

"Jesus, we're spread all over the place!"

"Fire control, down to the main carrousel! Pony? Pony Red, where are you?"

Unintelligible crackles, words.

"Get down to the main carrousel! The bulls and horses've broken loose and are shredding the place.

Fire control, where'n the hell are you? Flame in the port carrousel!"

The bulls. Something about the bulls. And fire.

He lifted an arm. Tingling numbness covering his body. Data began to enter the blank circuits of

his mind. The bulls. Have to get to the bulls.

"What about the atmospheric readings?"

"Screw 'em! If the air out there's no good, it doesn't matter much, does it? With that Hartford

going in the port bay we don't have enough left in here to light a match. Open the damned vents

and hit the fans!"

"That was some great landing, Fireball."

"You try and deadstick in one of these bastards, punk! It's got the glide angle of a brick."

"I said it was a good landing—"

"Where'n the hell are the others?"

"Try the radio, stupid—wait. What's that call?"

"It... it's the Baraboo, skipper. It's out of control.... It's diving into the atmosphere....

Signal's dead."

The voices. He pushed himself up from the couch and stumbled toward the voices. But now the

control cabin was silent.

There was a breath of fresh air on his face, and he inhaled. He gulped at the air, and gulped

again. His vision cleared a bit and he could make out the shuttle crew standing like statues

before the control banks.

"You. Fireball. What is it?"

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The command pilot of the Number Three car turned her head and looked at him. She seemed not to

notice the blood dripping from her forehead. "The Baraboo. It...it just got exed. We got away just

in time."

Fireball nodded at another crewmember. "Try and raise the other cars."

The crewmember stabbed at some buttons. "Any cars, this is Number Three. Where are you?" She

listened, then tried again. 'This is Number Three. Any cars, where are you?"

He rubbed his eyes, sat down on the edge of a couch, and looked at the shuttle's pilot. "Somebody

said something about the bulls."

Fireball Hanah Sanagi squatted next to him. "Bullhook, it's hell down there. The outside hatch to

the loading runs is jammed. The bulls are going crazy." The pilot stood and shouted toward the

hands that stabbed at the communications bank. "What about fire control?"

"Forget it."

"Anything yet from the other cars?"

"Not yet."

Bullhook Willy got to his feet and supported himself against the couch's backrest as a crackle

filled the compartment. "Hey! It's Number Ten! One, Four, Five, and Ten are within sight of each

other near a big body of water." The crewmember talked rapidly into the communications system.

"We're pretty bunged up. Came to a stop against a mountain. Heard anything from the others?"

He squinted his eyes against the light coming through the cockpit observation ports. Through them

he could see bright sky, green trees hung with golden hair, a range of mountains.

More crackling. "Wait! I'm getting a strong signal from Number Six. Six can see Number Eight.

Eight can't see Nine, but is getting a good signal. Number Two? Where are you, Number Two?"

Silence. "Can anyone get a signal from Two? What about Seven?" Crackles, desperate calls, silence.

"Okay, let's try and figure out how far we are from each other and in what relation."

On the couch rested a meter-long gold-tipped hook and goad. Bullhook Willy picked it up, turned,

pulled himself through the compartment door, and headed down the dark companion way. The smell of

it. Hot insulation, boiling hydraulic fluid, and overpowering every other odor, the smell of

burning flesh-.

The frantic calls from the control cabin were soon covered by the screams of the animals. He

turned into the companion-way leading to the huge cage of rotating tubes that held the

elephants. An emergency light flashed in his face, then out of the darkness and smoke a voice

yelled.

"Pony! Pony Red! It's Bullhook1 The boss elephant man is here!"

Bullhook held his hand'between the light and his eyes. "Waxy, you want to get that damn light out

of my face."

The beam of light dropped as Bullhook supported himself by placing a hand against a bulkhead. The

bulkhead was hot. Too hot. That was the smaller port carrousel containing half of the remaining

Perches. Bullhook withdrew his hand. "Waxy, what about the horses?"

The dark shape holding the emergency light shook his head. "No good. Pony Red had to seal off the

port carrousel to try and contain the fire. Doesn't look good. There's no fire in the starboard

horse barn and in the main carrousel, but the smoke and lack of air is driving the nags and bulls

crazy."

"There'll be air soon."

Another shape joined the one holding the lamp. "Mother Machree, but it's the hell of Hartford down

there," The voice belonged to Pony Red Miira, boss animal man. "Waxy, why'd you put out the call?"

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The one holding the lamp pointed at Bullhook. "The boss elephant man."

Pony Red moved next to Bullhook and placed a hand on the boss elephant man's shoulder. "Are you

all right? The last time I saw you the back of your skull was caved in."

"I'm on my feet. We're down. We got to get the lead stock out of here. Why aren't the bay doors

open?"

The boss animal man shook his head. "The last I heard from the crew back there, the doors were

jammed. They can't get to the control mat blows the damn doors off because of the bulls. Two of

'em are loose in the runs tearing up the place. Now we can't raise the aft crew at all."

Bullhook rubbed his eyes. "The carrousel. Can it still rotate?"

"Sure, but—"

"Get some lights on and move tube number one to the bottom, facing the doors. I'll get 'em open."

Pony Red shook Bullhook's shoulder. "You can't get through any of the tubes; especially number

one. Six of the eight bulls in there have broken loose. We're trying now to get a crew around to

open the doors from the outside."

Bullhook began to pull himself down the companionway.

"Dammit, Pony, if they won't open from the inside, they sure as hell can't be opened from the

outside. Not in time. Just get tube number one facing the doors. I'll get through." "Why number

one?" "Ming is in number one."

Bullhook walked between the two men and felt his way down the corridor until he reached the port

to the main bay. He pulled himself through, ignored the elevator, and began working his way down

the access ladder. Half of the way down nausea and dizziness washed over him as the pain in his

head flashed lights before his eyes. He hung onto the ladder, resting his cheek against one of its

cleated rungs. The smoke covered him like a hot blanket; the screams from the animals numbed his

ears.

Crying. Just barely audible, there was crying among the screams. Lights went on in the access

tube, turning the blackness into a dark gray pall. Bullhook Willy lowered himself another rung,

then another, until he stood on the lower deck access compartment to the main carrousel. The air

was a bit better. Fresh, cool air. He glanced to his left and could see the hazy outline of an

open maintenance port. Through the man-sized doorway, he could see green grass. He turned from the

ladder and lurched toward the closed doors that opened into the tubes as the rumble of the main

carrousel turning vibrated the shuttle.

Before the doors, three figures knelt over a fourth. One of the kneeling figures stood and grabbed

Bullhook. "What're you doin' here, Bullhook? You can hardly stand."

Bullhook forced his eyes to resolve the images before him. Packy Dern was holding him; Waco Whacko

and Dot the Pot were kneeling over the still body of Haystack Harry. "What happened, Packy?"

The bullhand nodded toward Haystack. "Waco and I managed to pull him out of the number four tube.

Too late." He looked back at Bullhook. "There's some others still in there."

"What about the rest of the bullhands?"

Packy shook his head. "God, I don't know. Most of 'em must be out of the shuttle by now."

Bullhook closed his eyes for a moment. "Waco. Get Dot out of here. Go through that open

maintenance port."

The snake charmer looked over his shoulder at the boss elephant man. "What about you?"

Bullhook moved over and pulled Dot the Pot to her feet.

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"Haystack's been exed, Dot. You have to get out of here."

Dot wiped the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand. "I can't just leave him. Don't make

me leave him."

"Packy and I'll take care of him. You go with Waco now. You're just in the way."

The snake charmer stood, held Dot's arm, and looked at Bullhook. "What about you?"

"I'll be along."

The snake charmer studied Bullhook with dark, narrowed eyes. "There aren't any heroes in the

circus, Bullhook; just dead troupers and live ones."

"Get along, Waco." He placed a hand on the snake charmer's shoulder. "I'll be all right."

Waco spat on the deck and turned Dot the Pot toward the maintenance port. As the pair moved toward

the opening, Bull-hook pointed at the body. "Packy, grab Haystack and get out of here."

Packy Dem shook his head. "I heard the big cage turning, Bullhook. If you open those doors, it'll

take about two seconds for this compartment to be full up with damned mad pachyderms."

The boss elephant man motioned with his bullhook toward the body. "Get Haystack and beat it. I

have to get to the other end and open the main hatch."

"There's a crew outside working on it now."

"Packy, there's no time to work through from the outside. Now get moving."

"You can't make it!"

"Ming and I can." Bullhook pointed again at the body. "Now beat it."

Packy shook his head and lifted the dead bullhand's shoulders. "Maybe I can help."

Bullhook Willy stared at the closed doors to the main carrousel. "Beat it. And get that crew away

from the doors."

Packy pulled Haystack's body away, and just before he reached the maintenance port, Bullhook

called out. "Hey, Packy!"

"What?"

"Little Will. Take care of her. You know."

"Yeah. I know." The bullhand lowered Haystack's body through the port, then dropped himself

through to the outside.

Bullhook Willy weaved before the closed doors, looking at the red square that needed to be pressed

to open them. "Just

hope to hell Ming is tjie first one out."

He reached out his left hand, slapped the red square, and stumbled to the right of the doors as

they hissed open. There was no addition to the smoke, but the sound of the screaming bulls

deafened him. A panic-driven elephant thundered through the open doorway, her shredded left ear

dripping blood. It took only a split-second for Bullhook to recognize Cambo. As Cambo rumbled

around the compartment looking for a pachyderm-sized exit, she was immediately followed by

Queenie. Queenie's trunk was almost severed through.

Bullhook looked around the edge of the door and screamed. "Ming! Here, Ming! Goddammit, Ming,

where are you?"

Down the length of the tube, three bulls were in the aisle on their sides either dead or dying.

The remaining five bulls were loose and stampeding in the confined area.

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"Ming! Dammit, Ming!" Bullhook sagged against the open door as his vision blurred. One of the five

bulls paused, turned toward the forward end, then began walking toward the compartment. "Ming.

That's it, baby. Right here."

Bullhook felt a thunderous whack across his shoulders, his face smashed against the bulkhead. He

stopped himself from sagging to the deck, reached out, grabbed the rungs of an access ladder, and

began pulling himself out of danger. Queenie rushed at him again and tried to pull him down, but

she could not raise her wounded trunk. Just as he managed to pull himself above her, Queenie

rammed the ladder and bulkhead.

Ming entered the compartment and bellowed. Bullhook called from his perch upon the ladder. "Ming!

Over here, girl! Get Queenie away from the ladder! C'mon, Ming, you beautiful thing!"

Bullhook saw Ming look up at him. The sound she made was a blast of relief and joy.

"That's right, Ming. I'm here. Come on over and save old Bullhook's ass."

Ming lowered her head, tucked her trunk down, and charged at Queenie's side. The impact vibrated

the entire compartment, almost causing Bullhook to lose his grip. Frightened by the attack,

Queenie moved away from the ladder.

"Over here, Ming!" He smacked his bullhook against the bulkhead and Ming moved toward the ladder.

The pachyderm presented her port side to the boss elephant man when she saw him whirl his bullhook

in a circle. When she was close enough, Bullhook Willy leaped from the ladder and landed upon

Ming's

back. Painfully he pulled himself forward until he sat straddling the great beast's neck, the toes

of his boots behind her ears.

"All right, babe! Let's get us the hell out of here!" He tapped Ming's right shoulder with his

bullhook. "Shy, babe! Shy!"

The elephant turned to the right, and when she was facing the doors, Bullhook lowered himself

until his right cheek was against the top of Ming's head. The stink of burned flesh filled his

nostrils. "Let's go, babe! Mule up that damned machine! Go!"

Ming went through the doors and entered the number one tube of the main carrousel, first at a fast

walk, then at a trot. With screamed commands and taps with his bullhook, the boss elephant man

steered Ming around the three dead elephants. With butts of her head, swats with her trunk, and

goads with her tusks, Ming bulldozed the frightened elephants out of her path. One of the bulls

attempted to fight back, and Bullhook felt a tusk enter the calf of his left leg. "Go, dammit! Go

Ming!"

At the other end of the tube, the smoke was still thick. "Tut, babe. Park that thing until I can

find the doorknob."

Ming stopped and the boss elephant man tried to clear his vision. "Great Boolabong, show me the

doorknob. Show me." He shook his head, but the motion did more to increase the pain in his head

than it did to clarify his vision. "Hell." He leaned to his right, reached down, and tapped the

front of the elephant's shoulder.

"Give old Bullhook a kneel, babe. Let's go. Down, Ming."

As the elephant slowly knelt, Bullhook slid from her neck until his feet touched the hot deck

plates. His left leg collapsed, and he crawled upon his hands and knees until he came to the aft

tube doors. Pulling himself up, he felt for the door panel. Once he found it, he pounded it with

his fist, causing the doors to hiss open. On the other side of the door, the two bulls that had

broken loose from the number four tube were screaming and stampeding up and down the runs that led

from the three carrousel doors to the main hatch. The bulkhead panels above the port carrousel

door radiated orange heat. The remains of two human bodies smeared against the cleated surface of

the runs explained why Pony Red Miira hadn't been able to raise the aft watch.

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Bullhook pushed away from the bulkhead, collapsing upon the deck. He looked at the bull. Ming

stood patiently awaiting

further instructions. The boss elephant man thought he blacked out for a second, then was brought

wide awake by the blinding pains that coursed through his leg, back, and head. The pains eased for

a moment, and Bullhook called out. "Ming. I can't make it. Get that durante out and log me out of

here!" He smacked his bullhook against the deck. "Ming, let's go!"

The pachyderm moved to her right until she faced the boss elephant man's prone figure. Then she

reared up on her hind legs and screamed. Her front legs came down hard, and Bull-hook knew what

was in her mind. He knew because he had been there. "Ming! This is Bullhook, honey. Bullhook." The

elephant snorted, rocking back and forth. "That was another crash, another time, another place.

Years ago, babe. This is Bullhook, Ming." He held up his gold-tipped hook and goad. "Bullhook."

Ming stood still for a moment, then she lowered her head, lifted her trunk, and gently shoved her

tusks beneath Bullhook's body. The boss elephant man held his gold tipped bullhook out so that it

would not be out of the elephant's sight. "Remember me, Ming. You gore me and it's liable to ruin

my whole day."

The elephant's trunk wrapped gently around Bullhook's waist as her head came up. "Okay, babe.

Let's lead this parade out of here. Go, babe, go!"

Ming moved out toward the main hatch. The two bulls rampaging in the runs moved toward her. "Mile,

babe! Get me to that damned switch box! Go!" Ming crossed the runs and stopped before the huge

hatch door. The heavy metal door was warped from the impact against the bottom of the shuttle.

Nothing short of blowing the thing off of its bolts would open it. "Shy, babe. Get me over! Shy!"

The elephant moved Bullhook to the right, and the boss elephant man reached out and flipped open

the cover on the emergency switch. He pulled down the bright red handle inside and then blackened

out as two hundred exploding bolts went off at the same time that a bull smashed into Ming's side.

When he opened his eyes, his body was being shaken unmercifully as Ming stampeded through the open

air and tall grass of the strange planet. Voices called after them, but Ming wasn't listening.

"Ming! Ming!" The elephant slowed to a trot, then to a walk. "Tut, babe! Put me down, honey."

The huge beast shuddered and then lowered her head, depositing the boss elephant man upon the

grass. Her head lifted and she stood, snorting and shaking her head. "Good girl. Good girl."

The voices again. Louder. Feet running through the grass. Bullhook opened his eyis And looked at

the clear, blue sky. Parade weather. Damn, but it's a beautiful day. Packy Dern's face came into

view as the bullhand knelt and quickly examined the boss elephant man. Bullhook felt something

placed beneath his head and pressure being applied to his left leg. Other hands; other faces.

Waco, Dot the Pot, Madman, Pony Red, Moll...

Packy's face looked at him and smiled. "Whatcha been up to, Bullhook?"

"A little this; a little that.''

Bullhook felt a needle being poked into his arm. Packy nodded. "Well, it sure looks like it was

fun."

"You know what they say, Packy... life with the circus is just one long uninterrupted dee-light."

The blue sky grew black, Packy's face faded, and the sharp jags and angles of pain smoothed into a

calm night sea of slow ' motions and soft sounds.

There was more touching against his body, dim voices, a bullhand singing "Elephant Kindergarten"

to her pachyderm. That's Kirn's voice. That's right, honey. The car crashed, I don't know where in

the hell we are, no one will ever find us, don't know where our next meal is coming from, but calm

down. Some things are still the same. I'm still here, and mule up still means trot....

And life? It's the same as its always been: life with the circus is just one long uninterrupted

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dee-light.

Yowzuh! Yowzuh!

Step right up and feast your little bug-eyes on the wonderous monsters from the planet Earth!

Peruse the ponderous pachyderms—

—That's what I said, sir, or madam, or thing, as the case may be. Pachyderms—

—'Cause that's what they're called, sonny.

One quarter credit, a mere twenty-five percent of a one note will admit you to feast your eyes,

bulbs, sensors, or whatever the hell it is you use—

Beat it boy, you bother me.

Now, folks, slither right up...

TWO

Waco Whacko, the snake charmer, turned away from Bull-hook Willy's body as Mange Ranger, the

show's vet, ran up and began pushing his way through to the fallen bullhand. Waco headed back to

the shuttle and climbed one of the ladders to one of the open emergency ports. The other bullhands

were urging, coaxing, and cursing their pachyderms out of the main hatch. As he entered the port

and headed for his quarters, he could feel the rumble of the main carrousel turning, bringing

another tube of bulls in line with the hatch.

Entering his quarters, he sat upon a locker, the smoke still heavy in the air. He picked up a gray

cardboard box and placed it upon his lap. He opened the box and looked at the five fist-sized blue

eggs within it. A spot of moisture appeared upon one of the eggs, and Waco wiped the shell of the

egg dry with a fingertip. Another droplet appeared and Waco lifted his hand and touched his cheek.

Tears. The sickness. Again the sickness.

A voice came from the compartment door. "Everybody out!"

Waco's head turned and he saw Fireball Hanah Sanagi's face looking through the hatch.

"Waco, you have to get out. The only way we can control the fire is to smother it. We're sealing

up the shuttle."

Waco nodded and Fireball's face disappeared. The snake charmer closed the box,, but remained

sitting upon the locker.

The sickness. God, the sickness.

Fifteen years before, Buns Bunyoro had brought it on. And now, Bullhook Willy. Waco remembered the

Arcadia wintering grounds in a distant place called Florida. In another time, an-• other place,

another dimension.

Waco had been reading when someone knocked upon the door to his van. Waco opened the door to see

the boss animal man, Pony Red Miira, standing on the lot.

"Waco, you know we went to pick up those two new bulls this morning. It was a mess. The freighter

crew exed one bull and cut up the other one."

The snake charmer stared at the boss animal man, his face and heart frozen. ;

Pony Red looked down. "Buns got "it. I'll be by later to gather up his things." The big man thrust

his hands into his trouser pockets, turned, and walked toward the elephant barn.

"Sorry."

Waco closed the van's door and returned to his reading.

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Later that evening there was another knock upon the door. Waco looked at his book, realizing that

he had been looking at the same page for over two hours. He put the book aside and opened the

door. The new bullhand that Buns had taken under his wing, Bullhook Willy, climbed the steps and

stood in the open doorway. "Buns got exed. Thought you'd want to know." Willy looked up at Waco.

"I heard." Waco nodded toward Bullhook's bandaged hand. "How's the mitt?"

"Okay. We had to winch that one bull out of the freighter. Caught my hand between the cable and

deck. Bone Breaker fixed it up'n gave me something for the pain."

Waco cocked his head toward the interior of his van. "Come in if you want."

"I just wanted to say how sorry I am."

Waco dropped into an easy chair and clasped his hands together. "Don't be sorry on my account,

Bullhook."

Willy sat down in a chair facing the snake charmer. "He was your friend, wasn't he?"

"That's what he called himself." The snake charmer's deep black eyes studied Willy. "I have no

friends—no human friends."

Willy looked down and shook his head. "Why'd you live with him then? And'for ten years?'

"He paid rent." The snake charmer reached out a hand and stroked a passing python. "His

conversation was enjoyable." He sat back. "Do I sound a little cold to you?"

Willy slowly nodded. "That's the word: cold."

Waco closed his eyes and leaned his head against the chair's headrest. "I never let myself become

friends with a human. The human is the only animal that ever disappoints me." He opened his eyes

and looked at Willy. "I haven't had much contact with nonhuman intelligent aliens, but I imagine

that they, too, will disappoint me. Buns went and committed suicide today, or the next thing to

it. By doing so, I suppose you think he is some sort of hero. I don't. Although I do not include

myself among them, there are those who have an affection for Buns. Buns cheated them. Buns is a

cheat. He is a human and a cheat. I expected nothing more from him; I expect nothing more from any

human."

Bullhook Willy sat quietly for a moment, and then he swung his bullhook from his left hand, stood

and turned toward the door. "I better be getting back to the bam. I start trying to break in that

bull tonight."

The snake charmer stood and walked Bullhook Willy to the door. As Willy reached the bottom step,

Waco spoke. "What is the bull's name?"

"Ming."

"How old are you, Bullhook?"

"Eighteen."

"Do you think you can handle her?"

Willy shrugged, then ran the fingers of his good hand through his hair. "I don't know. That's not

good, is it? Poison Jim used to say that you have to know you can do it. If you don't the bull can

tell."

Waco nodded. "Animals can read humans a whole lot better than humans can read animals. Does Ming

have you scared?"

Willy licked his lips, shrugged, then nodded. "Now she does. Out there on the airfield I didn't

even think about it. There wasn't time to think. But... since then I've had some time."

"Good. You keep thinking, Bullhook. It works the same with any animal. You think, watch, and

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study. You study Ming until you can read her—understand her. When you understand

her, you'll know what she wants, what she needs, and what you have to do. Once yoiymderstand her,

you won't be scared. Don't make your move until then,"

Willy rubbed his chin, then dropped his hand to his side. "Waco, did you know Peison Jim? You two

talk a lot alike."

Waco shook his head. "Just to talk to years ago when he was with O'Hara's. But all animal men know

the same things. The ones who don't either wind up dead or killing their animals."

Willy nodded and turned toward the barn. "Thanks, Waco."

"Bullhook?"

Willy turned and looked back at the snake charmer. "Yeah?"

"If you want you can move out of the barn and stay here."

Willy's eyebrows went up. "What for?"

"Ten credits a week."

Willy shrugged. "Why not? I'll go get my kit."

"Not tonight." The snake charmer half-turned back into his van. "Tomorrow. Move in tomorrow.

Tonight... tonight I have some thinking to do." Waco went inside, closing the door behind him.

And then there came the sickness. Waco had cried and swore to the universe that he would never

again love.

And now Bullhook Willy was broken and gasping upon the surface of a planet that didn't even appear

in any of the star charts. And die sickness was again upon the snake charmer.

In the box upon his lap were the eggs of five of the twenty Ssendissian snake telepaths that Waco

had brought to the show. The eggs were all that remained of the Ssendissians. And the eggs were

conscious, feeling their own special sickness for their dead parents.

Waco stood and left the compartment. When he again stood upon the planet's soil, he looked at the

huge lake mat began far down the slope from the wrecked shuttle. Beyond the lake was a forest, or

swamp. But no^humans; nothing to love.

He began walking toward the shore.

THREE

On the evening of that first day, across the huge lake, into the thin edge of the swamp just

visible beyond it, the sun was setting. Packy Dern sat on the dew-weighted grass with his arms

wrapped around his knees. The few clouds in the sky were black-red edged with gold placed against

a sky as scarlet as blood. And, lordy, there had been plenty of blood.

He closed his eyes and held his head down for a moment. "Hell, yes." He lifted his head and looked

at the near shore of the lake. The vee-shaped trough cut by the menagerie shuttle's belly began

there. It ended in the trees far to his left. To the right of the trough were rock-capped hills.

To the left was a ravine cut by the exiting waters of the lake as they flowed downhill toward the

south. Considering the alternatives, Fireball had made a great landing.

A practical landing, too.

Bullhook Willy and the thirty-two other troupers who had died had been laid out in the short

stretch of trough a hundred yards from the shore. There weren't any dozers or shovels with which

to dig graves. And after the bodies were arranged at the bottom of the trough, all those who

weren't injured gathered on the two sides. The boss animal man had stared at the bodies

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