Einstein Dog by Craig Spence Page B

communication with its handlers, but a casual observer would never be able to tell.
    â€œBoth versions of the K-Pack will be ready on time, Mr. Hindquist. We can go into production almost immediately.”
    Hindquist turned to the Gowler brothers. “And how are things shaping up in your area of responsibility?” he asked.
    Charlie shifted in his chair, grunting as he sat up straight and folded his hands on the table-top. “Everything’s going great, Mr. Hindquist,” he reported. “We’ve been practicing with the tranquilizer blowgun and rehearsing our entrance strategy. We’ll be ready.”
    â€œYou’ve tested the gun with a lethal dose?”
    â€œNot yet, sir, but I’ve got Bob looking for strays.”
    A shadow of impatience darkened Hindquist’s face. “You need to get on with it,” he reprimanded. “And the rehearsals, how are they going?”
    â€œWe’ve practiced so much we could do the job with our eyes shut. We know every step by heart, and we’ve been monitoring things at Professor Smith’s lab for weeks now. He’s never there at three in the morning. It’ll be a quick in and out, sir. No problem.”
    Hindquist planted his elbows on the table and linked his fingers into a bridge, where he rested his chin. He stared at the Gowler brothers until they both squirmed in their seats.
    â€œI don’t have to remind you how important this mission is, gentlemen,” he cautioned.
    They nodded.
    â€œDo not fail.”

    When Professor Smith entered the kennel the children and Elaine stopped their chatter. Although he was joyful for Libra and her offspring, Bertrand had not forgiven his father for keeping them in captivity.
    â€œThey’re beautiful, aren’t they?” Elaine said cheerfully, trying to break the tension.
    Professor Smith agreed, stooping to stroke one of the pups.
    Bertrand flushed angrily. His father didn’t have the right.

    â€œHow utterly innocent newborns are,” Professor Smith was saying. “Lions, eagles, orcas, gators . . . even the most fearsome of predators are innocent at birth. In fact, the more I think about it, the more convinced I am that animals never lose that perfect innocence. They kill without malice — without any sense that it might be wrong . They are all perfectly innocent . . . with one exception: human beings .”
    He smiled sadly at Libra’s wriggling litter. “We may not be alone anymore,” he mused. “These cuddly creatures will be capable of distinctly human accomplishments. They might even come to know the difference between good and evil.
    â€œStill, they are beautiful,” he congratulated Libra.
    The thump, thump, thump of her irrepressible tail greeted the professor’s remarks.
    After a long, awkward moment, Elaine coughed loudly. “Now!” she said, clapping her hands to get their attention. “There’s work to do.”
    They all stared uncomprehendingly.
    She laughed, pleased with the effect. “Beautiful things must have names, and Libra’s pups are not going to be christened SMART 74 through 78. We’re done with that. They must have proper names, and we are going to name them this very moment.”
    â€œNow wait just a minute!” Professor Smith objected.
    â€œAll right!” Bertrand cheered, cutting his father off.
    â€œAnd since you’re so keen, you go first Bertrand,” Elaine seconded, staring defiantly at Professor Smith. “Pick a pup and name him.”
    For a second Bertrand’s enthusiasm flagged, then he grinned gamely, turning toward Libra and her litter. As if they were aware of the solemnity of the occasion, her pups stopped their squirming. For a long while Bertrand studied them. Finally he reached into the litter and held up a tiny ball of mottled brown, white and black. “Einstein!” he pronounced.
    â€œNo!” Professor Smith