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"I'm worried about Amanda," says Toby, which is accurate, though not the whole story. "It seems that she's pregnant. She's not overjoyed."
"Three cheers," says Zeb. "First little pioneer born into our brave new world."
"Anyone ever mention you can be callous at times?"
"Never," says Zeb. "I'm all quivering heart. The dad's most likely a Painballer though, judging from what went on, which would triple suck. Then we'd have to drown it like a kitten."
"Fat chance," says Toby. "Those Craker women just love babies. They'd go berserk if you did cruel and hurtful things to it."
"Women are strange," says Zeb. "Not that I couldn't have used a mom like that: protective, cuddly, and so forth."
"It could be a hybrid. Half a Craker," says Toby. "In view of the mob action during the Saint Julian's festivities. But if it is, the baby might kill her. Their fetal growth rates are different, their heads are bigger when they're born, judging from the kids some of those women are toting around, so it could get stuck. I wouldn't even begin to know how to do a C-section. And even before that, what if there's a blood incompatibility?"
"Ivory Bill and those others know anything about that? The genetic blood stuff?"
"I haven't asked them," says Toby.
"Okay, let's put it on the crisis list. One pregnancy. Call a group meeting. But if the MaddAddams don't know what's likely to happen, I guess it's wait and see?"
"It's wait and see anyway," says Toby. "It can't be aborted; no one here has that skill, and it would be way too risky to try it. There's some herbs, but if you don't know what you're doing they can be toxic. Nothing else to be done, unless someone at the group meeting has a brilliant suggestion. But before that, I need to do some consulting."
"With who? None of our brainiacs are doctors."
"Don't laugh at me for what I'm about to say."
"Tongue bitten, mouth stapled. Fire away."
"Okay, this is going to sound demented: with Pilar. Who, as you know, is dead."
A pause. "How you planning to do that?"
"I thought I could pay a visit to her, you know, where we ..."
"To her shrine? Like a saint?"
"Something like that. Do an Enhanced Meditation. Remember where we buried her, in the park? On the day of her composting? We dressed up as park keepers, we dug a hole in the ..."
"Yeah, I know the place. You wore those green parkie overalls I stole for you. We planted an elderberry bush on top of her."
"Yes. That's where I'd like to go. I know it's a bit crazy, as the Exfernal World would have said."
"First you talk to bees, now you want to talk to dead people? Even the Gardeners never went that far."
"Some of them did. Think of it as a metaphor. I'll be accessing my inner Pilar, as Adam One would have put it. He'd be right onside with this."
Another pause. "Well, you can't do it alone."
"I know." Now it's her turn to pause.
A sigh. "Okay, babe, whatever you want. I volunteer. I'll get Rhino and Shackie to come. We'll keep you covered. One spraygun, plus your rifle. How long you figure it'll take?"
"I'll do the short-form Enhanced Meditation. I don't want to hog too much time."
"You expect to hear voices? Just so I know."
"I've got no idea what I'll hear," says Toby truthfully. "Most likely nothing. But I need to do it anyway."
"That's what I like about you. You're game for anything." Some rustling, some shifting. Another pause. "Something else eating you?"
