Dick by Law (8 page)

Chapter 1
8

 

130 Million Years Ago

China

Grip had been on the trail of the killers all night, roaming the screaming forest of nocturnal creatures in pitched battle by moonlight. Traveling by darkness had felt good, the cool night air
reviving
after the past two days of blazing heat.

The coolness lingered as
the misty light of dawn
filtered through the tall pines. Still fresh, still driven after hours on the hunt,
Grip trotted through a stand of tall ferns...and came nose to nose with a two-legged meat-eat
ing dinosaur.

She was big, about three times taller than Grip...the same size he imagined the killers would be. Her thick hide was covered in feathers of varying shades of green, perfect camouflage in the brush of the forest.
Her enormous eyes were as yellow as egg yolks, her teeth and talons ivory white smeared with ruby red blood.

She was a killer, much like the six dinosaurs Grip was tracking. In fact, she was
nose to nose with Grip because she'd been leaning down,
dining on the remains of a plant-eater the six dinos had killed. Grip could smell their scents clearly on the
shredded
carcass at her feet.

For a moment, the meat-eater froze and stared at Grip, emerald feathers bristling, yellow eyes burning with awareness.
F
resh meat was only inches away...fresher meat than the day-old carcass.

But Grip let her know
she would pay a price
if she tried
to feast on
him
. Even as she stared, Grip peeled back his lips, baring his sharp teeth, and growled. He would
not
go easily.

Not while there was
revenge
to be had.

The meat-eater considered him for a long time, then finally raised her head, breaking the standoff. Grip padded forward, still snarling, red-tipped ears pasted against the back of his neck.

On his way past, Grip kept his eyes locked on the towering meat-eater, waiting for her to make a threatening move...but she didn't. She wouldn't step away from the food on the ground, but she didn't seem inclined to attack Grip, either.

In fact, Grip even smelled
fear
on her. She was so much bigger, yet she was
afraid
of him.

And Grip loved
knowing
it. It made him feel more ready to take on the six killers and
hurt
them for what they'd done to his family.

He tested his confidence with a sudden jump and a bark at the meat-eater. Heart racing, fire shooting through his blood, he pretended he was about to launch a fierce attack.

T
he meat-eater instantly backed off.
Grip jumped and barked again, and the meat-eater stumbled back another step, hissing. Then, Grip made his boldest move yet.

Lunging forward, he plunged his teeth into the haunch of the carcass, sinking them deep. The meat-eater squawked and flapped her green-feathered forelimbs but didn
'
t attack.

Grip tore off a mouthful of meat and gulped it down, then went in for another bite. He kept his eyes on the meat-eater the whole time, sensing she wouldn't wait much longer to strike back. Her strong, bitter scent told the story: hunger and anger were about to overpower fea
r
. He read it as clearly in her scent as if she
'
d already done what he knew she was about to do.

Sure enough, before Grip could snatch a third mouthful, the meat-eater leaped at him, screeching and swinging her gleaming claws. Grip's low-to-the-ground build served him well; he ducked the meat-eater's talons and scuttled between her legs, then scrambled off into the
forest
.

The meat-eater might have caught him, but she didn't follow. The sure thing of the dead meal on the ground trumped the less certain meal of Grip, who might still manage to elude her even if she chased him.

Grip kept running full-tilt, though, and not only because he wanted to be sure he was safe. He ran as fast as he could for the pure joy of it, the first real joy he'd felt since the loss of his family.

His heart pounded like thunderbolts crashing in his chest. Air rushed in and out of his lungs in great, tingling drafts. The muscles of his stubby legs burned as if they were on fire. His sleek fur flattened in the wind.

He'd faced death and escaped it, stealing a meal along the way. Grip didn't think in terms of signs and omens, but he did feel how
good
this one was. He
savored
the victory.

It made him feel brave and strong and unstoppable. It pumped him full of flashing light and crackling power.

It made him hungry for what lay ahead--the six killer dinosaurs and bloody revenge. He tasted their trail with every wild breath he drew, and it fired him forward like a spark racing along a lit fuse.

Nothing
would stop him from getting what he wanted. Even if it took forever and every last beat of his heart, he would sink his teeth into it and never let go.

It was what he did best. It was what he was born to do.

 

*****

Chapter 1
9

130 Million Years Later

The Radio Call-In Show

Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania

The
"dick suit" court case had ended a week ago, and Simon was feeling better than ever. Good things kept coming his way, like
more donations for In¢entive$, more dates with Ishi, more coverage in the media...and now a guest spot on a Pittsburgh radio call-in show.

Simon sat in the
dimly lit
booth at the radio station
,
feeling groggy. He and Ishi had left Melville at four in the morning to drive the two hours to Pittsburgh in time for the six a.m. show.

Now they listened
to one call after another,
all
moderated by
gruff
and edgy
host Buzz Copacetic. So far, the tone of the calls had been consistent; everyone had roughly the same thing to say to him.

"Thank you for standing up for the little guy
, Simon
.
"
The current call the same as all the rest had been: big-time positive. Simon could practically hear the smile in t
he man's voice
sifting out of
the speaker
on the wall
. "You're a hero as far as I'm concerned."

Simon
blushed
and combed his fingers through his short, black hair
.
"Thanks for your kind words."
He
leaned
closer to
the microphone hanging
over
the console
in front of him. "
But m
y attorney, Quinn
Keegan, is the real hero. And J
udge
Bartlebaugh,
who ruled in our favor."

Across
the console sat
Buzz Copacetic,
host of the
call-in
show--a
wiry guy
in his late forties or fifties
with shaggy gray hair
, blacked-out aviator sunglasses,
a
nd a nose like a
scraggly
ginger
root
.
He wore a
white V-neck t-shirt under a black corduroy sport coat powdered with cigarette ashes.
"But
you're
the one who stepped forward."
Buzz
's voice was deep and gravelly, as if he'd smoked a zillion cigarettes and
gargled
steel wool
on top of that
.
Though he wasn't smoking at the moment, the booth smelled like cigarette smoke, and there were filled ashtrays on every available surface.
"
You
deserve
credit
here, Simon."

Simon shook his head. "I'm not looking for credit, Buzz. I just want people to treat each other with respect."

"No offense, Simon ol' buddy," said Buzz, "but what makes you think that's
ever
gonna happen?"

"Maybe we start with
more
dick
identific
ation," said Simon.

Buzz burst into
raspy
laughter. "You mean I'm gonna have to
I.D.
my
junk
? I
love
it!"

As Buzz kept howling,
Simon smiled and locked eyes wi
th Ishi, who sat in a corner of the booth
behind Buzz
. Her wispy black bangs flutte
red as she giggled at Buzz's
joke.

Sim
on's heart beat faster just from looking at her. If sitting in on the call-in show counted as a date, this was their fifth...and things just kept getting better between them.

"So how will we I.D. our
dicks
, Simon?" Buzz could barely stifle his laughter
long enough to get the words out
. "Some kind of
tagging
process, like with
bald eagles
?"

"
T
hat's not what I'm talking about
, of course
," said Simon. "
What I mean is that if we identify more people who are public
nuisances, we might inspire them to change their attitudes. To treat others with respect."

"How do you figure?" said Buzz.

"Okay," said Simon. "Let's say you're a known dick."

Buzz's prominent Adam's apple bobbed
up and down
when he chuckled. "Hypothetically speaking, of course."

"People will avoid you, right?" said Simon. "They won't want to be around you."

"
Because I'm a dick?
" said Buzz. "
Here
I thought it was a
body odor
issue."

"They won't want to do business with you," said Simon. "They won't want to
hire
you. Who wants to deal with a
dick
, right?"

"I was going to say a
urologist
," said Buzz, "but we won't go there, man."

"Do you see what I'm saying?" Simon talked with his hands, gesturing with his fingers
spread
wide
apart
. "Social pressure comes into play. Next thing you know, we have an effective
dick deterrent
.
"

"We already
have
one
of those," said Buzz. "I call her m
y
ex-wife
."

Simon
laughed an
d let his hands fall to the console
. "You get the general idea."

Just then, a red light on
top of
the control panel
between them
winked, and Buzz hit a button. "
Whatcha got for me, caller?
"

This time, the voice from the speaker was a woman's. "
Earth is a
planet
of dicks," she said.

Buzz laughed. "Wasn't that a B-movie in the 1950s?
Planet of the Dicks
?"

"Seriously," sa
id the woman. "I'm talking
ninety-nine percent
dicks.
Think
about it."

"So what you're saying," said Buzz, "is they've got us
surrounded
. When they break through the cabin walls and
bite
us, we'll
all
become dicks."

"What I'm saying is this." The woman cleared her throat
. "Maybe it would make more sense to label those of us who
aren't
dicks. Since there are so
few
of us, it would be much cheaper and less time-consuming
than
labeling
all those
who
are
dicks
, wouldn't it?"

"
Labeling
the
dickless
?
" said Buzz. "
Then how do we decide who's dickish and
who's
undicklike?"

"Some kind of
government agency?" said the woman.

"A Bureau of Dicks?" said Buzz.
"An Office of Dick
Management
?" He laughed and pressed a button, cutting off the call. "Food for thought, eh, Simon?"

Simon nodded. "
Keeping in mind the judge's ruling is up for appeal."

Buzz frowned and leaned toward him
. "How do you think that'll go, Simon?"

"Who knows?" Simon shrugged. "Maybe we'll get lucky again."

"What about you, Ishi
ko
?" Buzz turned and
looked at Ishi in the corner. "Win or lose on appeal?"

"
Of
course
we're going to win." Ishi nodded
forcefully. "We've got
right
on our side."

"You heard it here first, folks
," said Buzz. "Dick identifica
tion is here to stay! The
dick
will
stick
."

 

*****