The next day they had visitors. Del Erick arrived with little Owen before him on his horse. "The two kids together, shut up in the house, were driving Ana crazy," he explained. "Besides, Owen wanted to come along."
"Pa's gonna teach me to ride inna spring," Owen informed them. "Then I can have my own horse."
"Not till you know how to handle one," Del chided gently.
Each time he saw Del with Carlana's children, Rimon was amazed at how easily their friend had taken to instant fatherhood. Of course, he and Carlana would have their own child soon—about a month before Kadi was due. Rimon knew that that child was the result of post-syndrome after Dei and Carlana had killed in the Wild Gen raid, but it didn't matter—the marriage was so clearly good for both of them.
When Del was ready to leave, Rimon and Kadi walked out to his horse with him. The snow was melting into slush. "The road's already clear through town," Del said, "but I wouldn't try to take a wagon over the hill trail for a few days yet. It looks like a hard winter coming. You'd better stock up."
"We have plenty of everything," said Rimon.
Del looked to him, then to Kadi, and back to Rimon. "I mean—Gens. A Gen, anyway, as soon as you can get to town to claim one. You don't want to be stuck out here, with just Kadi when…"
"Yeah," said Rimon. "Don't worry, Del. I'd never put Kadi in danger."
Del mounted, and Rimon handed Owen up to him. Del settled the sleeping child into a comfortable position. Watching, Rimon said, "You care for that boy as if he were your own, don't you?"
"He is my own," said Del. "He may be the only son I'll ever have. He's certainly all the son any man could want."
As Del rode away, Rimon and Kadi stood staring at one another. So it was that bad. "Kadi, I've got to get it right this month."
A few days later, Kadi went with Rimon to Slina's Pens. Slina was horrified. "Kadi, you get yourself all upset, you're gonna lose that baby!"
"I'm not upset, Slina."
"You're askin' for trouble. Rimon, I know you got only a little bit of a house. You got no place to keep a Gen so Kadi won't be always runnin' into 'im. Listen, I been in this business nigh fifteen years, an' I know better'n ever to take for my own kill a Gen I've nursed through sickness or injury, or one of my breeders that's got too old. They take on a kind of personality, and it spoils the kill."
"I know that, Slina. But I'm not going to kill this Gen."
Slina heaved a sigh, flicking a tentacle over the papers on her counter. "I dunno. You two sure are turnin' life upside-down." She shrugged. "You pay your taxes, you take your pick. That prime Farris-bred I was expectin' hasn't come in yet, though." Rimon felt .the start run through Kadi, and her immediate control when Slina zlinned her.
Rimon shook his head firmly. "The same as last month for me. One you've raised. That boy didn't get scared until… until I hurt him. I'm not going to hurt this one."
Slina showed them to a holding room, bare and bleak, firmly shuttered but quite chilly. Yet it was clean, and so were the five Gens who sat on a bench, leaning against the wall. They didn't even look up as the customers were shown in, didn't notice that Kadi was Gen, too. Drugged.
"What do you give them?" Rimon asked.
"Metadine. Finest grade I can get my hands on. Keeps 'em easy to handle, but too numb to make trouble. Won't try to breed or nothin'—don't even fight."
"Yes, of course, or you couldn't put the males and females together like this."
"Yeah. The Fort Freedom people want 'em kept drugged right up to delivery. Most folks, though, want 'em alert. Metadine wears off overnight and don't make 'em sick. You want one of these, or—" She gestured toward the Pens.
Kadi had been looking over the five Gens, two males and three females. They all wore the same gray smocks, but they were clean and healthy. "We'll take this girl," she said.
Rimon controlled his astonishment, saying, "All right, Kadidid. I'll trust your judgment."
Slina started to say something, then merely sighed and plucked the girl from the bench. The Gen was Kadi's height, but built more solidly. She had dark blond hair and wide blue-green eyes in an otherwise plain face. She seemed sturdy, the kind of person you'd find on a pioneer homestead.
They took the girl home, fed her, and gave her a bedroll by the fire. The next morning, as promised, the drug had worn off. She looked around the house, but remained docile, obedient to the simplest commands, "Come."
"Sit," like any trained dog.
She was Kadi's responsibility, as Rimon was in his last week's descent into need, and tried not to come near her without Kadi between them.
The second day, the girl began to follow Kadi around the house, out into the yard, down into the tunnels they had dug into the hill under their home. When Kadi handed her some jars of vegetables, she carried them up into the cabin and watched with interest as Kadi made a rich soup. She ate with relish, and Kadi told Rimon, who was pretending more than eating, "It's nice not to be the only one with an appetite in this house!"
"I hope we've stored enough to see both of you through the winter."
That set the tone for the next few days. Neither Rimon nor Kadi admitted aloud that anything could go wrong.
They spoke of the girl as a permanent addition to their household, and even gave her a name, Willa.
Abel Veritt arrived bright and early on the appointed day while Kadi and Willa were still breakfasting. Rimon was seated between them, at Kadi's insistence, nervously sipping tea.
Abel looked at the group, and said, "I'm just here to observe."
But something in his tone made Kadi ask, "Do you observe something already, Abel?"
"Yes! There's… there's some kind of connection between all three of you."
Rimon nodded. "I have the weirdest sensation that if the two of them were to walk away from me in opposite directions, I'd just melt away into a puddle on the floor."
Kadi said quietly, "Nobody's going to walk away from you, Rimon."
Willa was chasing the last of her cereal around the bowl, unable to capture it with her spoon. Finally, she dropped the spoon, lifted the bowl, and shoved the last bit into her mouth with her fingers.
"Willa, your table manners leave much to be desired," said Kadi, taking the bowl from her.
"Don't scold her," cautioned Rimon.
"No, not now," agreed Kadi. "Your lessons begin with lunch, young lady." She explained to Abel. "We've been careful not to do anything that might frighten her."
"I hope—I hope you'll be able to train her to be some help to you."
"She is already," said Rimon. "She follows Kadi around like a puppy and tries to imitate everything she does."
"She's like a child, Abel," said Kadi.
"Perhaps," replied Abel, but he was clearly more comfortable with Rimon's comparison.
They talked idly for a few minutes more, and then Kadi said, "Rimon, are you ready?"
"Not really—but I guess that's good. I should have some control."
"Come on, then."
They sat on the edge of the bed, ignoring Abel Veritt.
Kadi put Rimon between her and the girl, saying, "Willa, watch."
With Willa's attention on her, Kadi held out her hands to Rimon as she had done many times during the last few days, letting Rimon grasp her forearms with his handling tentacles. Kadi controlled her yearning to give him transfer herself, and just held steady. Rimon was trembling already. She smiled at him, projecting reassurance, and he steadied.