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Valentine went to work relacing his boots so the laces presented fresh material to the eyelets.
Like clockwork, another group came out, this time from the west tower, and Gail Foster's exited. It was hard to tell under the robes, but all seemed to have about the same level of swelling in the midsection. Same routine, led like chicks behind a blue mother hen.
Damn. West tower.
Valentine put his boots back on and hurried back to the road leading to the pastures.
A faint beep sounded from behind. The vet, Dr. Boothe, sped up on her little four-wheeler cart. "Want a lift?"
My weekend to be offered rides by women.
Valentine hopped into the seat next to her. The trail tires kicked up gravel as she set the electric motor in motion again. "What did I tell you about falling for the bullshit here?"
"I like being indoors every night. I've seen too many bodies in the woods."
She looked at him and away again, quickly. "Impolite to bring up such matters."
"It's all the same bullshit, Doc. Depends on how much you want to shovel off."
"Give me a break. You're part of it now. You were, even in Kentucky."
"There's being a part and taking part. Your assistant, for example. How'd she get past the genetics defect laws?"
"Pepsa? She wasn't born that way. She's from a tough neighborhood in Pittsburgh. She complained once too often, and that's what happens to complainers there. They ripped out her tongue. She still complains-just does it on that little pad of hers."
"So what's with all the pregnant women?"
She took a breath. "They're highly susceptible. You know how the Ordnance is about birthrate."
"I don't, actually."
"They're here so the babies can be saved."
"Don't want anyone going before it's decided. Nice and orderly." Price had that right, anyway.
"Don't talk to Michiver that way, Ayoob. I wish you weren't talking to me."
She pulled up to the veterinary station. The guard dogs in their kennels barked a welcome.
"I imagine you're supposed to turn me in," Valentine said.
"If it comes to protecting my position, don't think I won't. You and the Grog are nothing to me. Nothing."
"Except someone you can be honest around."
"You want honest? I don't like people. That's why I'm a vet. Now get out, I've got some cows to inseminate."
Valentine got out and went over to greet the dogs. He nodded to Pepsa, busy cleaning out the kennels. Dr. Boothe stared at him for a moment, then drove away.
* * * *
Michiver seemed to know more than he was willing to say as he greeted Valentine at the farm office. "Heard you had a good time after-err, at, the dance, buck." Out back a feed truck clattered as the winter's stores were transferred to the silo. A group of hands ate sack lunches on the porch.
"A lively night," Valentine agreed. "Where do you want me today ?"
"You can have the afternoon off. Be back for evening milking. Let the machines do the titty-pulling for a change."
"I give him a month," one of the other hands said to his lunch mates.
