Einstein Dog Read Online Free PDF Page A

I want to know everything that’s going on there, understood?”
    â€œYes sir,” Charlie answered.

    â€œDon’t worry, girl.”
    Bertrand tried his best to cheer Libra as they left the pound, but she couldn’t muster even a single wag of her drooping tail. She had never given way to despair before, despite the many disappointments that had come her way. But ever since Hindquist’s visit her spirits had sagged. Not even an outing on Campus Green could cheer her up.
    â€œWhy did you attack him?” Bertrand wanted to know.
    The sudden gush of her emotions overwhelmed him: fear mixed with hatred. What struck Bertrand most about Libra’s telly was the scent of Hindquist, a sour stench that made Bertrand wrinkle his nose in disgust. “Gawd,” he said. “Close the door and turn on the fan! What is that stink?”
    His reaction drew a little smile out of Libra and a twitch of her tail. But the flicker of joy quickly died as a new wave of emotions welled.
    â€œEvil,” Bertrand translated. That was the only word to describe the surge of hatred that electrified the air between them. He sensed something ancient about Libra’s fury, an instinctive reaction in her species masked by centuries of adaptation to humankind, but which still lay coiled in her belly.
    â€œWhat does he want?”
    Libra stopped to think. After a moment an image began to materialize. A team of dogs appeared in a telly. They were hitched into a harness, like sled dogs, but instead of an elegant craft gliding over the snow on polished runners, they heaved a massive stone statue of Hindquist on a sledge through a blazing desert. Taskmasters whipped them, driving the scrawny, exhausted animals on. Then the view zoomed out and Bertrand shuddered, because the panorama now included hundreds of similar teams being driven remorselessly on with lashes and curses — not only dogs, but humans, too, and horses, oxen, cattle, every conceivable species.
    Animals that had served their purpose were summarily executed, their carcasses littering the dunes.
    â€œHow can you know this?” Bertrand pleaded.
    The image dissolved, but it left behind a certainty as cold and hard as naked steel: Libra would never escape the SMART lab; she would never be going home with Bertrand. Professor Smith’s research had acquired a new and sinister purpose which none of them understood.
    â€œWe can’t give in, girl,” Bertrand coaxed as they resumed their walk. But he couldn’t blame Libra for feeling the way she did. Professor Smith refused to say when she might come home, nor would Dean Zolinsky relax her strict rules. Bertrand and his father had argued about it again just before Bertrand and Libra set out on their walk.
    â€œI will be seeing the dean this very afternoon,” Professor Smith had said, “but the prospects of an immediate re-evaluation are not good. Dean Zolinsky was very annoyed at Libra’s outburst, and as you know, the dean is not inclined to forgive. She’s a stern, angry woman.”
    Bertrand hugged Libra again. “I know I’m not supposed to let you off-leash, but don’t you worry,” he said. “That stupid old witch isn’t going to stop us from having some fun. Out of sight, out of mind.”
    As a treat he planned on taking her to Campus Wood, a fringe of forest south of the green. “Who’s to know you’re running free in there?” he said cheerfully.

    They were being followed. Libra was sure of it. She snuffled, picking up traces of human scent. She sniffed some more, analyzing the forest air: a squirrel, Douglas fir, the pungent soil . . . sweat! Whoever trailed them was pushing hard to keep up.
    â€œWhat’s wrong girl?” Bertrand asked, irritated and concerned.
    Libra tellied the image of a shadowy figure following them through the dappled light. She transmitted the scent of their pursuer, too.
    Bertrand was the only