Mammoth by John Varley Page A

him. What was the problem here?
    Silence from Howard.
    “Didn’t you just put a couple of marbles in your pocket?” Matt asked.
    Howard had learned an important lesson at the age of eight: Never admit anything. His father had sent him into a supermarket with instructions to select a good steak and put it under his winter parka. “If you get caught,” his father had said, “don’t say anything. Don’t answer any questions, and above all, don’t admit anything.
Never admit anything
.”
    Howard did get caught, and when they found his father in another part of the store and brought his errant child to him, Christian Senior had scolded the boy, threatened to give him a good whipping when they got home, even threatened to tan his hide right there until one of the cops advised him not to. Howard had cried and cried and cried.
    They laughed about it when they got back to the ramshackle trailer with no wheels that Howard’s father called home. Christian Senior praised the boy for his acting. “Never saw it done so good,” the old man chuckled. Howard was glad to hear what he had done was acting; he’d thought he was scared to death.
    Howard got better at it, until one day he was too old to pull it off, and his dad sent him back to live with his mom, who hardly noticed.
    There was another principle he lived by.
Never defend yourself.
Attack at once. Those two rules would get you through almost any situation, Howard figured.
    “How many times have you had Susan Morgan in here?”
    Matt was speechless.
    “It doesn’t matter,” Howard said. “Once is enough to invalidate your contract and make you liable for everything I’ve paid you, plus damages.”
    “I’m sorry, I thought that since she’s right here and…”
    Howard smiled and relaxed. He had him. Once they apologize, they are lost. Matt had caved in at once. But what did he expect from a little wimp who had spent his entire career in a university, free to research just about anything he wanted, a man who had had his entire top-rank education handed to him while Howard labored and borrowed to put himself through a state university system, first in computer science, then in business.
    Howard had never liked Matt very much. No surprise; he hardly liked anybody. But from that moment, he hated him.
    “It’s all right,” he said. “I’m not going to do anything.”
But I could, always remember that, Matt.
“Still, you’ll have to be more security conscious from now on. And, of course, you must stop bringing Ms. Morgan into the lab. It might even be best if you stopped seeing her.”
    “We’re not—”
    “I know, just friends. Don’t imagine there is much about these projects I don’t know. I could show you pictures of you lunching at the tar pits.”
    Matt had assumed he was usually on camera while at work. That he might be spied on during his private hours had not occurred to him.
    Howard smiled again.
    “Yes, I knew when you first brought her in here.”
    “I thought you didn’t mind.”
    “If you had left it there, I might have ignored it. But you continue to discuss your theories with her. Why not print out a copy of all your work here and give it to her?” Howard smiled again. “As it happens, it’s not going to be a problem. We’re moving the mammoth operation to a ranch near Paso Robles. I think the elephants will be happier, and I know Susan will. She’s never stopped complaining about the L.A. traffic.”
    He turned on his heel and left.
    “ WHERE is Paso Robles, anyway?” Susan asked that night.
    “I don’t know. Up north somewhere.”
Too far to drive every day
, Matt thought.
    They were in the large, airy Venice apartment Howard hadrented for Susan during her work in southern California. It was the first time Matt had been there, though he had dreamed of visiting under different circumstances. Now he was in a black depression.
    “If you don’t want to move, you could threaten to quit,” he suggested.
    “I can’t threaten