He turned and looked at the elephant. "What was that?" Lolita shifted her weight from one foot to the other and shook her head. O'Hara reached into his coat pocket and frowned. "I could swear that I had peanuts in here." He glowered at the elephant. Lolita shook her head again, and as O'Hara turned his back and left, she swept the straw in front of her with her trunk, picked up the bag of peanuts, and stuffed the entire thing in her mouth.
Duckfoot chuckled as he stood. "Lolita's getting to be a real dip, Governor. Careful she doesn't go after your leather." The Boss Canvasman was built along the general proportions of Gorgo "The Killer Ape" who now reclined in his cage scratching at imaginary fleas. Duckfoot's hair was thinner than Gorgo's, but the arms more powerful.
O'Hara grimaced and shook his head. "For all the money that's in it, she's better off with the peanuts." He nodded at the Boss Animal Man, who, although he was every bit as big as O'Hara, looked frail next to Duckfoot. "Is everything quiet, Pony?"
Pony Red Miira nodded. "They were a little excited that they weren't being loaded on time, Mr. John, but they're settled down now."
O'Hara nodded, kicked over a bucket with his foot, then sat on it. Duckfoot and Pony Red resumed their seats. "Duckfoot, the city wants us off the lot by tomorrow, so don't let the canvas gang go until after. One way or the other we'll need them to tear down the show."
Duckfoot shook his head. "Where're those roughnecks going to go, Mr. John? It's not like they can hook up with another show. We're it. The last show on Earth. What's going to happen to them?"
O'Hara shook his head, pursed his lips, then shook his head again. "I just don't know."
Pony Red held out a hand indicating the elephants and the line of cage wagons filled with tigers, lions, apes, and other animals. "What about them?"
O'Hara looked into Pony Red's eyes, then averted his glance. "None of the zoos or preserves will take them. All the time I get the same reason: they're not wild anymore so putting them in a preserve would violate the environmental integrity or something." He shook his head. "Of course, we can't take them over the district line because we aren't providing environmental settings appropriate to them in their wild states."
Pony Red spat on the wood shavings that covered the ground. "So, does that mean we'll have to destroy them?"
Duckfoot scratched the back of his neck. "Guess they're about to get the hell protected out of them." He looked at O'Hara. "I never thought the Patch would let us down."
Pony Red held out his hands. "What about that command performance? You know, on that other planet? We could at least keep the show together. Earth is no place for a circus anyway."
O'Hara shook his head. "Patch tried, but the same bunch that won't let us cross the district line say we can't take the animals off the planet, away from their natural environment." He sighed. "We're boxed in, Pony, and that's all there is to it."
All three lifted their heads as the orchestra swung into a familiar two-step. Duckfoot rubbed a knuckle into his right eye. "Damned dust." He cocked his head toward the main tent. "The windjammers sound a little off their tunes." Lunge Rope Willy's liberty horses would be out now doing the quadrille. Thirty-four minutes left.
The customer lights went on, illuminating the interior of the tent. Duckfoot shot to his feet. "What the hell?" Pony Red and the Governor joined him, and the three faced the entrance as several official-looking types entered the tent. The obvious Mr. Big led the procession, followed by some lesser officials and a number of reporters. Mr. Big was holding the hand of a little girl who was staring saucer-eyed at the elephants. Immediately behind the little girl was a tall, thin man dressed in black. Duckfoot jabbed O'Hara in the ribs with his elbow and whispered, "Mr. John, it's the Patch."
As the three walked over to the procession, the little girl pulled on Mr. Big's arm. "Oooooo! Daddy, look at the elephant! And, that one, and that one—"
Mr. Big pulled his daughter along. "Yes, yes, honey. Come along now." He stopped and faced the Patch as Duckfoot, Pony, and the Governor joined them. "Now, Mr. Wellington, could you explain why you dragged me here?"
The Patch held his hand out toward O'Hara. "First, Prime Minister, may I introduce John O'Hara, the owner of O'Hara's Greater Shows."
Mr. Big looked down his nose at O'Hara, issued a two-second grin, nodded his head, and said, "Charmed." He turned back to the Patch. "Mr. Wellington, you said that there was something that I must make a decision on, and my attorney general seems to agree with you. Could we get on with it?"
The Patch nodded. "Certainly. As you know, Prime Minister Frankle, where the statutes are vague and enforcement would cause severe loss to a company or individual, the injured party has the right to demand that an elected official accept responsibility for the enforcement—"
"Yes, yes. Do you have the document?" Mr. Big took the paper from the Patch's hand, scanned it, then reached into his pocket for a pen. "Everything appears to be in order."
Patch rubbed his chin. "Mister Prime Minister, you realize of course that enforcement of that order will require that we destroy our animals."
Mr. Big scanned the document again. "Yes, that seems clear. What of it?"
The Patch handed Mr. Big a photograph, then handed out more photographs to the other officials, the reporters, and to Mr. Big's daughter. "You see, Mister Prime Minister, this is how we have to destroy an elephant. We chain its back legs to a cat—that's a tractor—then run a chain around its neck through a slip ring, then hook that to another tractor. The two tractors go in opposite directions, and the animal is strangled."
Mr. Big curled up a lip, then shook his head. "Well, distasteful as it seems..." He lifted his pen.
"Daddy, you wouldn't!"
He glowered at the Patch, then turned to the little girl. "Honey, you must understand that the law is the law, and it's Daddy's job to enforce it."
The little girl looked at the photo of the strangling elephant, looked up at Lolita happily munching away on a bag of peanuts she had lifted from a reporter, then back at her father. "You monster!" She pulled back a patent-leather-clad shoe and kicked the Prime Minister in the shin, then ran crying from the tent. It was lost on no one that the reporters had snapped possibly fifty different shots of the scene.
The Patch nodded his head at Mr. Big. "If you could just sign the paper, sir, we'll be able to get on with murdering our animals."
The hand holding the paper dropped to Mr. Big's side. "Mr. Wellington, I don't mind saying that this stunt of yours is unfair. Just think what you've done to my daughter!"
The Patch shrugged. "I'm not the one who is ordering the animals murdered." He pointed at the paper. "If you would just sign—"
Another official type stepped from the back and faced Mr. Big. "Sir, don't you see what he's doing? We can't let him transport those animals over the district line. We'd be making a laughingstock out of the law."
Another official stepped from the back. "Sir, we cannot take them into the preserves. We are trying to maintain a wild state in the preserves. I mean, what would a performing elephant look like in the middle of that? I just can't have it!"