The cat was still there the next morning.
So were six cases of cat food.
Lena stared at them.
She had asked for a lot.
Apparently she and Marcus had different definitions.
Her phone buzzed.
MARCUS: Cat food delivered.
Additional animal supplies arriving Monday.
Lena frowned.
LENA: What additional animal supplies?
The response came almost immediately.
MARCUS: Standard feline preventive and care supplies.
Food storage.
Carrier.
Bedding.
Litter.
Basic grooming supplies.
Lena stared toward the workshop.
The gray-and-white cat watched from beneath the trailer.
LENA: I am not adopting this cat.
Three dots appeared.
MARCUS: Understood.
That felt suspiciously judgmental for a text message.
LENA: Also I meant what did Adrian tell you to buy
MARCUS: Mr.
Vale instructed me to procure whatever Redtail requires.
Oh.
That was considerably broader.
Lena looked at the six cases of cat food again.
Right.
She was going to have to be careful with Marcus.
The cat meowed.
Lena looked at her.
“This is somehow your fault.”
The cat did not appear burdened by guilt.
Lena opened a can.
She had an auction to get to.
Ruth arrived at seven-thirty.
She took one look at the cases beside the workshop.
“That’s a lot of cat food.”
“Apparently.”
“You keeping her?”
“No.”
Ruth looked toward the cat.
Then back at Lena.
“Sure.”
Lena ignored that.
They were halfway down the driveway when Ruth said:
“Rules.”
Lena looked over from the passenger seat.
“We aren’t even there yet.”
“Exactly.”
“I have excellent impulse control.”
Ruth gave her a long look.
“What?”
“You bought a farm a week ago.”
“That was not an impulse.”
“You bought it less than twenty-four hours after seeing it.”
“I had reasons.”
“You have reasons for everything.”
“Usually good ones.”
“That’s what worries me.”
Lena folded her arms.
“Fine.
Rules.”
“No buying animals because they’re cute.”
“I know.”
“No buying animals because they’re unusual.”
That one was more complicated.
Ruth noticed.
“No.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You made a face.”
“What face?”
“The face you’re making now.”
Lena looked out the window.
Ruth continued.
“If I tell you an animal’s a bad buy, you listen.”
“Even if I think it’s a good one?”
“Especially then.”
That was going to be a problem.
Because Ruth knew livestock.
Lena knew something Ruth didn’t.
And today, for the first time, Lena could use Animal Appraisal to evaluate every animal at the auction without touching them.
Health.
Reproductive status.
Genetics.
Behavior.
Transition affinity.
Things Ruth couldn’t possibly see.
The problem was explaining why Lena sometimes disagreed.
She’d thought about that last night.
A lot.
Ruth already knew Lena was preparing for something.
She knew the deadline mattered.
She knew Lena had predicted enough that Adrian Vale had driven to Redtail himself.
But she didn’t know about the System.
She didn’t know about Inventory.
She didn’t know Lena was completing objectives and receiving impossible abilities as rewards.
And Lena wasn’t ready to tell her.
That wasn’t because she thought Ruth would betray her.
Actually, that was part of the problem.
Lena was beginning to trust her.
Ruth had helped her from the first day she’d arrived at Redtail.
She hadn’t asked for money.
Hadn’t tried to take advantage of her.
Hadn’t even asked particularly invasive questions.
But trust wasn’t binary.
Lena could trust Ruth to help her choose goats without trusting her with the single strangest thing that had ever happened to Lena.
There was no taking it back.
And right now, Adrian was the only person who knew enough to understand that Lena’s information came from something beyond ordinary knowledge.
She intended to keep that circle very small.
For as long as she could.
Ruth glanced at her.
“You listening?”
“Yes.”
“What did I just say?”
“If you say no, I listen.”
“Good.”
Lena paused.
“But I might know things about an animal you don’t.”
Ruth’s eyes flicked toward her.
“What things?”
There it was.
Lena considered her answer.
Enough truth to make today possible.
Not enough to open every other door.
“I can tell some things about them.”
Ruth waited.
Lena hated people who were comfortable with silence.
“Health.
Breeding potential.
Some genetic information.
Temperament.”
Ruth’s eyebrows rose.
“By looking at them.”
“More or less.”
“Since when?”
“Yesterday.”
That got a longer look.
Lena stared straight ahead.
“Is this related to why you’re preparing for the end of the world?”
“I never said end of the world.”
“You bought enough rice to survive one.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“No.”
Ruth was quiet for a few seconds.
“What else can you tell?”
Lena hesitated.
This was the part that mattered.
“How likely they are to be affected by what’s coming.”
Ruth’s hands tightened slightly on the wheel.
“Affected how?”
“Changed.”
“Changed how?”
“I don’t know.”
That was entirely true.
Ruth looked at her.
“You don’t know.”
“No.”
“Good change?”
“Maybe.”
“Bad?”
“Maybe.”
“Dangerous?”
“Possibly.”
Ruth faced the road again.
For almost a mile, she said nothing.
Lena let her think.
Finally:
“Is that why you asked about the cat?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“She’s unlikely to change.”
Another silence.
“How unlikely?”
“Very.”
Ruth nodded slowly.
“And you can do this with livestock.”
“Now I can.”
“Now.”
Lena said nothing.
Ruth noticed.
Of course she did.
But she didn’t ask.
Lena appreciated that more than she could explain.
They drove another few miles.
Then Ruth said:
“My animals.”
Lena turned.
“What about them?”
“Can you tell with mine?”
“I think so.”
“All of them?”
“Probably.”
Ruth nodded once.
“We’re doing that after the auction.”
Not a question.
Lena smiled slightly.
“Okay.”
The auction grounds were already crowded when they arrived.
Dust hung above the parking area.
Trailers occupied anything that could reasonably be described as a parking space and several places that couldn’t.
People moved between barns carrying coffee, clipboards, buckets, ropes and opinions.
Somewhere nearby, a goat screamed.
Lena stopped.
Ruth kept walking.
Lena caught up.
“Was that normal?”
“Unfortunately.”
Wonderful.
She’d been on the property for thirty seconds and already needed clarification about whether livestock behavior was apocalyptic.
This was going to go well.
Ruth stopped before they entered the first barn.
“One more rule.”
“You already gave me rules.”
“Fine.”
“You don’t bid.”
Lena stared.
“Excuse me?”
“Not until I tell you.”
“Ruth.”
“You don’t know what anything’s worth.”
“I have money.”
“That’s exactly why you don’t bid.”
Lena thought about the black card in her wallet.
Functionally irrelevant.
Fair.
“Fine.”
“And don’t tell anyone how much money you have.”
“I wasn’t planning to announce that I’m spending a billionaire’s money.”
Ruth stopped walking.
Slowly, she turned.
“What?”
Lena realized what she’d said.
Oops.
Ruth stared at her.
“Vale is paying for this?”
“Sort of.”
“Sort of.”
“We have an arrangement.”
“What kind of arrangement?”
“He needs information I can provide.
I need things he can provide.”
Ruth’s expression did something complicated.
“Things.”
“Currently livestock.”
“How much?”
“What?”
“How much did he give you?”
“He didn’t exactly give me money.”
Lena reached into her wallet.
Pulled out the black card.
Ruth stared at it.
Then at Lena.
Then back at the card.
“He gave you his credit card.”
“Purchasing card.”
“That’s not better.”
“It’s probably technically much worse.”
Ruth closed her eyes.
“What’s the limit?”
Lena considered lying.
“Apparently not relevant.”
Ruth opened her eyes.
“No.”
“That’s what I said.”
“No, Lena.”
“What?”
Ruth pointed at the card.
“You absolutely do not get to walk into your first livestock auction with more money than sense.”
“I have plenty of sense.”
“You asked me yesterday if pulling a calf was literal.”
“That is unrelated.”
“It is extremely related.”
Lena put the card away.
“Which is why you’re here.”
Ruth stared at her for another moment.
Then sighed.
“Fine.”
“Thank you.”
“You still don’t bid unless I tell you.”
“Agreed.”
“And if I say stop, you stop.”
“Agreed.”
“And no cattle.”
Lena looked toward the cattle barn.
“Why do you keep assuming I’m going to buy cattle?”
“Because you keep looking at them.”
“I can look.”
“You can look all you want.”
Lena smiled.
“I can assess them too.”
Ruth pointed toward the poultry barn.
“Chickens.”
“Dictator.”
“Alive dictator with no cattle problems.”
They started walking.
Lena’s phone buzzed.
Marcus.
MARCUS: Good morning.
Mr.
Vale indicated you are attending a livestock auction today.
Please send purchase records as available.
Feed, transport, veterinary intake supplies, and any required infrastructure can be coordinated once species and quantities are known.
Lena stopped.
Ruth looked back.
“What now?”
Lena showed her.
Ruth read it.
Then read it again.
“He has people waiting to buy feed for animals you haven’t bought yet.”
“Apparently.”
Ruth handed the phone back.
“Don’t get used to this.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s unnatural.”
Lena looked around at the cattle, goats, chickens, trailers and auction staff.
Then at the text from a strategic procurement specialist waiting to coordinate apocalypse livestock logistics.
“Ruth.”
“What?”
“I think unnatural left the building several days ago.”
Ruth considered that.
“Fair.”