turned to face him. He wrote another note: These creatures should not be caged. You must let them go.
“We, do, at home,” Jim said. “But we can't risk it in a strange place. Woofer would range the neighborhood, getting his nose into everything; Midrange would be chasing wild birds up trees; and Tweeter would fly into a bush and get hopelessly lost. We have been the route.”
Nimby wrote another note. They will not do any of these things. The magic is enhancing them; they understand that you mean well by them, and they will neither misbehave nor flee you.
“How can you know this?” Jim asked skeptically.
“This isn't a physical barricade, it's the nature of animals.”
Another note. I know thoughts too. It is part of my talent. I must know what is, so I can enable Chlorine safely to be what she wishes to be.
That seemed to be true. “Look, Nimby, I don't want to get in trouble with my children. I'll ask them, and if they agree to let the pets go, we'll do it.”
The children were already approaching, eating pies they had picked. Karen's hair was blowing across her face and into her pie, but she didn't seem to mind. Jim explained the situation.
“Try Woofer first,” Sean suggested. “If he behaves, try Midrange.”
So they freed the big dog. Woofer bounded out of the RV, went to a nearby tree, watered it, sniffed the air, and returned to the group, tail wagging. He was remarkably well behaved.
“You're not going to chase all over the region?” Jim asked the dog, surprised.
“Woof!” It was a plain negation.
David went to his pet. “Okay, Midrange. Your turn.”
He freed the cat.
Midrange went to a sandy spot and did his business.
Then he, too, sniffed the air, and returned to the group.
So Karen freed Tweeter. The parakeet flew up to the nearest branch of a tree, dropped a dropping, and flew back to Karen's shoulder. The increasing wind made the bird's flight somewhat erratic, but he adjusted rapidly.
Jim shook his head, bemused. “Very well, pets. You have five minutes to do whatever you want to. Then return here, because we'll be on our way again.”
Now the three creatures scattered. Woofer zoomed through the bushes, avidly exploring. Tweeter circled into the sky and disappeared. Midrange climbed a nut and bolt tree and was soon lost in the foliage. The three children followed them, as well as they were able.
“That's more like normal,” Jim said. But he was impressed by the way the animals had waited for his word before acting on their impulses. If they actually returned on the schedule he had set, he would know that Nimby's judgment in such respects could be trusted.
Mary emerged, carrying a basket of comestibles. The wind did its best to blow her dress around, but she remained in control. She stacked the bag in the RV, then looked around. “Where are the pets?”
“Nimby said they would behave if we let them go, so we did.”
She turned a quizzical glance on him, but did not comment.
Tweeter reappeared. He landed on Nimby's shoulder, tweeting at a great rate. Nimby wrote another note and gave it to Jim. The storm has stirred up enormous birds who may be hostile. They are coming this way.
Jim shrugged. “How big can a bird get?”
A huge shadow crossed the glade. They looked up to spot its source. It looked like an airplane, but it was silent.
A big glider perhaps.
Then it screeched. It was a bird—as big as an airliner.
Such a creature could probably pick up the whole RV in its talons, if it tried.
“Jim—” Mary said urgently.
“Right.” He raised his voice. “Kids! Pets! Time's up!”
The summoned ones forged in from all directions. Chlorine, too reappeared, looking devastatingly lovely in her windblown state. But the boys for once weren't looking at her. “Get a load of that big bird!” David cried, pausing to stare.
“Get in,” Mary said tightly.
They piled
“We, do, at home,” Jim said. “But we can't risk it in a strange place. Woofer would range the neighborhood, getting his nose into everything; Midrange would be chasing wild birds up trees; and Tweeter would fly into a bush and get hopelessly lost. We have been the route.”
Nimby wrote another note. They will not do any of these things. The magic is enhancing them; they understand that you mean well by them, and they will neither misbehave nor flee you.
“How can you know this?” Jim asked skeptically.
“This isn't a physical barricade, it's the nature of animals.”
Another note. I know thoughts too. It is part of my talent. I must know what is, so I can enable Chlorine safely to be what she wishes to be.
That seemed to be true. “Look, Nimby, I don't want to get in trouble with my children. I'll ask them, and if they agree to let the pets go, we'll do it.”
The children were already approaching, eating pies they had picked. Karen's hair was blowing across her face and into her pie, but she didn't seem to mind. Jim explained the situation.
“Try Woofer first,” Sean suggested. “If he behaves, try Midrange.”
So they freed the big dog. Woofer bounded out of the RV, went to a nearby tree, watered it, sniffed the air, and returned to the group, tail wagging. He was remarkably well behaved.
“You're not going to chase all over the region?” Jim asked the dog, surprised.
“Woof!” It was a plain negation.
David went to his pet. “Okay, Midrange. Your turn.”
He freed the cat.
Midrange went to a sandy spot and did his business.
Then he, too, sniffed the air, and returned to the group.
So Karen freed Tweeter. The parakeet flew up to the nearest branch of a tree, dropped a dropping, and flew back to Karen's shoulder. The increasing wind made the bird's flight somewhat erratic, but he adjusted rapidly.
Jim shook his head, bemused. “Very well, pets. You have five minutes to do whatever you want to. Then return here, because we'll be on our way again.”
Now the three creatures scattered. Woofer zoomed through the bushes, avidly exploring. Tweeter circled into the sky and disappeared. Midrange climbed a nut and bolt tree and was soon lost in the foliage. The three children followed them, as well as they were able.
“That's more like normal,” Jim said. But he was impressed by the way the animals had waited for his word before acting on their impulses. If they actually returned on the schedule he had set, he would know that Nimby's judgment in such respects could be trusted.
Mary emerged, carrying a basket of comestibles. The wind did its best to blow her dress around, but she remained in control. She stacked the bag in the RV, then looked around. “Where are the pets?”
“Nimby said they would behave if we let them go, so we did.”
She turned a quizzical glance on him, but did not comment.
Tweeter reappeared. He landed on Nimby's shoulder, tweeting at a great rate. Nimby wrote another note and gave it to Jim. The storm has stirred up enormous birds who may be hostile. They are coming this way.
Jim shrugged. “How big can a bird get?”
A huge shadow crossed the glade. They looked up to spot its source. It looked like an airplane, but it was silent.
A big glider perhaps.
Then it screeched. It was a bird—as big as an airliner.
Such a creature could probably pick up the whole RV in its talons, if it tried.
“Jim—” Mary said urgently.
“Right.” He raised his voice. “Kids! Pets! Time's up!”
The summoned ones forged in from all directions. Chlorine, too reappeared, looking devastatingly lovely in her windblown state. But the boys for once weren't looking at her. “Get a load of that big bird!” David cried, pausing to stare.
“Get in,” Mary said tightly.
They piled
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