By the time the last transport trailer pulled away from Redtail, Lena was tired enough to seriously reconsider every decision she’d made since waking up.
The chickens were furious.
The goats were investigating every surface on the property for weaknesses.
The pigs had already found one.
Scout had apparently decided everyone else was incompetent and begun patrolling the perimeter without being asked.
And Ruth had spent the last hour explaining things Lena hadn’t known she needed to know.
How much water goats actually drank.
Why the pigs needed something more substantial than the temporary setup Lena had thought was perfectly adequate.
Why chickens would absolutely find the one opening in an enclosure Lena couldn’t see.
Why she needed to stop leaving buckets where goats could reach them.
That last one had come up twice.
Lena leaned against the barn.
“I thought buying them was the hard part.”
Ruth snorted.
“Buying livestock is the easiest part of owning livestock.”
“That’s upsetting.”
“It should be.”
A goat stuck her head through the fence.
Lena pointed.
“Is she supposed to be able to do that?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
The goat pulled her head back.
Then immediately shoved it through a different opening.
Lena watched her.
“I think she’s testing me.”
“She is.”
Great.
Her phone buzzed.
Marcus.
MARCUS: First feed deliveries scheduled between 0700 and 0900 tomorrow.
Bulk hay will arrive separately.
Veterinary intake supplies and remaining husbandry equipment are being consolidated for delivery.
Then:
MARCUS: Infrastructure team has been advised regarding permanent swine enclosure requirements.
Lena stared at the message.
“Apparently I have an infrastructure team.”
“You have a billionaire.”
“Technically Adrian has an infrastructure team.”
“They’re building things on your farm.”
“Fair.”
She put her phone away.
Ruth was checking one of the goats.
Again.
Lena watched for a moment.
Then remembered.
“Your animals.”
Ruth looked up.
“What about them?”
“You wanted me to check them.”
Ruth went still.
Right.
They’d had considerably more immediate problems between leaving the auction and getting thirty-two chickens, five goats, four pigs, and one enormous dog settled at Redtail.
But Ruth hadn’t forgotten.
Neither had Lena.
Ruth stood.
“You still up for it?”
Lena was exhausted.
She looked toward Ruth’s property.
Then toward the animals she’d just bought.
Animal Appraisal had already changed what she’d been willing to purchase.
Ruth had animals she’d owned for years.
Animals she depended on.
And twenty days from now, some of them might change.
“Yeah.”
Ruth nodded.
“Let’s go.”
Scout noticed them heading toward the driveway and followed.
Ruth looked down at her.
“No.”
Scout continued.
“She doesn’t know what that means yet,” Lena said.
“She’s a livestock guardian.
She knows exactly what it means.”
Scout followed them another ten feet.
Then stopped.
She looked back toward the goats.
Then at Lena.
Then returned to the fence.
Lena stared after her.
“I love her.”
“You’ve owned her for three hours.”
“Three excellent hours.”
“Come on.”
Ruth’s farm sat southeast of Redtail, close enough that driving felt slightly ridiculous.
Ruth drove anyway.
Apparently Lena had done enough walking for one day.
Lena didn’t argue.
She’d seen parts of Ruth’s property before.
From Redtail.
From the road.
Enough to know Ruth wasn’t gardening recreationally.
She hadn’t realized the scale.
The driveway opened past the house toward a collection of barns and equipment sheds.
Beyond them were fenced pastures, a large garden, fruit trees, chicken runs, and a greenhouse tucked behind one of the outbuildings.
Lena looked around.
“You have all this next door?”
“I told you I farm.”
“You severely undersold it.”
“I wasn’t selling it.”
Fair.
Ruth parked near the barn.
“Where do you want to start?”
Lena looked around.
“How many animals do you have?”
“Currently?”
That was not an encouraging answer.
“Yes, Ruth.
Currently.”
“Twenty-three cattle.
Eleven goats.
Chickens.”
“How many chickens?”
Ruth shrugged.
“Depends how we’re counting.”
Lena stared at her.
“How else would we count?”
“Do you want laying hens, breeding birds, chicks, or every chicken physically present?”
“Every chicken physically present.”
“Forty-seven.”
Lena closed her eyes.
“And cats.”
Her eyes opened.
“How many cats?”
“Three that admit they live here.”
Of course.
Ruth headed toward the cattle pasture.
“Start with the cows.”
“Why?”
“Because I care about them more.”
Lena followed.
“That’s mean.”
“The chickens don’t know.”
The cattle began noticing them before they reached the fence.
A few moved closer.
Most didn’t.
Lena stopped at the gate.
Yesterday, she’d needed to touch something to Appraise it.
Now she only had to focus.
The nearest cow was perhaps forty feet away.
Appraise.
The interface appeared immediately.
DOMESTIC CATTLE — ANGUS CROSS
Sex: Female
Age: 6.2 years
Health: Good
Body Condition: Good
Reproductive Status: Bred
Estimated Gestation: 4.1 months
Temperament: Calm / Herd-stable
Genetic Diversity: Moderate
Transition Affinity: LOW
Projected Biological Alteration: Minor Probability
Settlement Utility: HIGH
Lena read through it.
“Low.”
Beside her, Ruth exhaled.
Just slightly.
Lena noticed anyway.
“What else?”
“Healthy.
Bred.
Four months.”
“Four and a half.”
“The System says-”
Lena stopped.
Ruth looked at her.
Shit.
For one second, neither of them spoke.
Lena could have covered it.
Probably.
Said she’d misspoken.
Said she’d meant something else.
Instead, she looked back toward the cow.
“Four-point-one months.”
Ruth was still looking at her.
Lena waited.
Here it came.
What System?
How are you doing this?
What the hell is going on?
Ruth turned back toward the pasture.
“Next.”
Lena looked at her.
“That’s it?”
“You’ll tell me when you’re ready.”
That hit harder than Lena expected.
Ruth pointed toward another cow.
“Her.”
Lena swallowed.
“Right.”
Appraise.
Minimal.
Next.
Low.
Next.
Minimal.
Ruth knew every animal.
Not just ear tags.
Names.
Histories.
Which cows had calved easily.
Which ones hadn’t.
Which line they’d come from.
Which bull had sired what.
Lena’s Appraisal supplied information Ruth couldn’t know.
Ruth supplied context the interface didn’t.
Then Lena reached number fourteen.
TRANSITION AFFINITY: MODERATE
Projected Biological Alteration: PROBABLE
She frowned.
Ruth saw it immediately.
“What?”
“Moderate.”
“What does that mean?”
“She’s more likely to change.”
“How likely?”
“It just says probable.”
“Change into what?”
“I don’t know.”
Ruth looked toward the cow.
The cow was chewing grass.
Entirely unconcerned with the possibility that reality intended to do something strange to her in twenty days.
“Is she dangerous?”
“Likely to die?”
“I don’t know.”
“Likely to get sick?”
“I don’t know.”
Ruth looked at Lena.
“You’re remarkably irritating for someone with magic cow information.”
Lena laughed despite herself.
“I know.”
Ruth took out her phone.
“Tag?”
Lena read it.
Ruth recorded the number.
“What are you doing?”
“Making a list.”
“For what?”
“I don’t know yet.”
That was probably the correct answer.
They continued.
Twenty-three cattle.
Seventeen Minimal or Low.
Four Moderate.
Two…
Lena stopped.
Ruth sighed.
“I don’t like that face.”
“High.”
Ruth looked toward the heifer Lena had been assessing.
Young.
Healthy.
Not yet bred.
“How bad?”
“I keep telling you, High doesn’t mean bad.”
“It doesn’t sound good.”
“It means more responsive.”
“To what?”
Lena hesitated.
“Whatever happens during Transition.”
Ruth’s expression tightened slightly at the word.
She’d accepted changes.
She’d accepted twenty days.
She’d accepted that Lena could somehow assess animals by looking at them.
Transition was new.
Lena had let it slip.
Again.
Apparently exhaustion was terrible for operational security.
“Transition,” Ruth repeated.
Lena considered her.
She’d already said System.
Now Transition.
She could feel the information expanding between them one accidental word at a time.
She didn’t like that.
But she also didn’t like lying to Ruth.
Not anymore.
That didn’t mean Ruth got everything.
Lena had spent too much time thinking about that already.
Inventory stayed secret.
The quests stayed secret.
The System itself…
mostly secret.
For now.
“That’s what I’m calling the event,” Lena said.
Technically true.
Ruth watched her for another second.
Then nodded toward the heifer.
“And High means?”
“She’s much more likely to be biologically altered by it.”
“Better?”
“Maybe.”
“Worse?”
“Maybe.”
Ruth sighed.
“Still irritating.”
“Consistently.”
Ruth recorded the tag.
They moved on.
The goats went faster.
Mostly because there were fewer of them.
And because Lena now had a much better appreciation for why Ruth had been so selective at the auction.
Feet mattered.
Teeth mattered.
Udders mattered.
Body condition mattered.
Temperament mattered considerably more when the animal in question could climb onto something and destroy it for entertainment.
Nine were Minimal or Low.
Two Moderate.
None High.
“Good,” Ruth said.
Lena looked at her.
“You’re relieved.”
“Obviously.”
“You weren’t worried before today.”
“I didn’t know I had something to worry about before today.”
Oh.
Right.
Lena felt a brief stab of guilt.
Ruth noticed that too.
“Don’t.”
“What?”
“Whatever that face is.”
“You could’ve had more time.”
“To do what?”
Lena didn’t answer.
Ruth gestured toward the goats.
“Sell them?
Kill them?
Put the weird ones in a bunker?”
“When you say it like that-”
“I’ve got twenty days.
Now I know.
That’s useful.”
Lena nodded.
Ruth started toward the chicken yard.
“And if one of my cows grows wings, I’m blaming you.”
“That’s not remotely fair.”
“Life isn’t fair.”
The chickens were worse.
Not because the results were worse.
Because chickens refused to cooperate with being individually assessed.
“That one.”
“Which one?”
“The red one.”
“There are twelve red ones.”
“The one by the feeder.”
“Three are by the feeder.”
Ruth looked at Lena.
“You said you could do this.”
“I can do it if your chickens stop moving.”
“They’re chickens.”
“I know that now.”
Eventually they developed a system.
Ruth pointed.
Lena Appraised.
Ruth marked birds with temporary leg bands if they came back Moderate or High.
Most didn’t.
Minimal.
Low.
Minimal.
Low.
Moderate.
Low.
Minimal.
Then Lena focused on a glossy brown hen scratching beneath the edge of the fence.
The interface appeared.
DOMESTIC CHICKEN — WELSUMMER CROSS
Sex: Female
Age: 2.1 years
Health: Excellent
Production Status: Active Layer
Estimated Production: Very High
Reproductive Health: Excellent
Temperament: Alert / Independent
Genetic Contribution Value: High
Transition Affinity: HIGH
Projected Biological Alteration: LIKELY
Settlement Utility: HIGH
“Oh.”
Ruth looked over.
“Which one?”
“Brown hen.
Near the fence.”
“Margaret?”
Lena stared at her.
“You named her Margaret?”
“I name the good ones.”
Of course she did.
“She’s High.”
Ruth’s expression changed.
“Margaret?”
“Yes.”
“You’re sure?”
“Very.”
Ruth walked over.
Margaret ignored her and continued scratching.
“She’s my best layer.”
“Apparently.”
“That’s related?”
“I have no idea.”
Ruth frowned.
Lena looked at the information again.
High affinity.
Excellent health.
Very high production.
High genetic contribution.
Interesting.
“Does Transition affinity correlate with existing biological performance?”
The response appeared.
Insufficient data.
Of course.
“Can high Transition affinity indicate beneficial alteration?”
Yes.
“Can it indicate harmful alteration?”
Yes.
“Can it indicate lethal alteration?”
A pause.
Yes.
Lena’s stomach sank slightly.
Ruth was watching her.
“You just learned something I don’t like.”
Lena hesitated.
Then nodded.
“High doesn’t mean good or bad.”
“You already said that.”
“It can go either way.”
“How far either way?”
“I don’t know.”
Ruth studied Margaret.
“So stable is safer.”
“Probably.”
“But not necessarily better.”
Lena looked at her.
That was exactly it.
Margaret scratched at the dirt.
Found something.
A bug, apparently.
Ate it.
Continued being a chicken.
Ruth sighed.
“Put a band on her.”
“You want to keep her?”
“Of course I’m keeping her.”
“Even knowing she might change?”
“She’s my chicken.”
Ruth glanced at her.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re doing the face again.”
“What face?”
“The one where you think too much.”
Lena looked back at Margaret.
Maybe Ruth was right.
Lena had approached the auction like she was building a biological insurance policy.
Stable animals.
Healthy animals.
Predictable animals.
She still thought that was the correct decision.
Redtail needed eggs that stayed eggs.
Goats that stayed goats.
Pigs that stayed…
well.
Pigs were already concerning enough.
But that didn’t mean everything that changed was automatically a loss.
The System had specifically rewarded her for keeping a High-affinity animal for observation.
There was information there.
Potential.
Risk.
Possibly opportunity.
She just didn’t know enough yet.
They finished the chickens.
Four Moderate.
Margaret High.
Then the cats.
Two Minimal.
One Low.
Ruth seemed personally offended that the barn cats had better Transition stability than Margaret.
By the time they finished, the sun was getting low.
Ruth stood beside the garden, scrolling through the list on her phone.
“Twenty-eight.”
“Twenty-eight what?”
“Animals I want to keep track of.”
“Most of those are Moderate.”
“That’s why I want to keep track of them.”
Fair.
Lena looked over the property.
The cattle grazed.
Chickens moved around the yard.
One of the goats was standing on something it almost certainly wasn’t supposed to be standing on.
Everything looked normal.
That was the strangest part.
Twenty days.
Then some of these animals might still be exactly what they were now.
Others might not.
Ruth put her phone away.
“What about people?”
Lena went still.
There it was.
The question she’d been hoping Ruth wouldn’t ask.
“I don’t know.”
That was true.
Mostly.
Ruth looked at her.
“Can people change?”
Lena thought about the warnings she’d received.
Biological alteration.
The fact that whatever was coming wasn’t limited to livestock.
“Yes.”
Ruth absorbed that.
“Can you look at me and tell?”
“No.”
Also technically true.
Animal Appraisal explicitly applied to non-sapient animals, and Appraisal required physical contact.
Ruth nodded.
Lena waited for the next question.
It didn’t come.
Instead Ruth looked toward the garden.
“What about plants?”
Lena followed her gaze.
Rows of vegetables.
Fruit trees farther back.
The greenhouse.
Seeds.
Crops.
Food.
Her brain stopped.
Oh.
She’d thought about plants.
Sort of.
Agriculture was already on her lists.
Seeds were already in Inventory.
But she’d been thinking about weather.
Heat.
Cold.
Flooding.
Whether crops could survive the disasters.
She hadn’t really thought about whether the crops themselves could change.
Ruth saw her expression.
“You didn’t think about plants.”
“I thought about plants.”
“You didn’t think about plants changing.”
Lena grimaced.
“Not enough.”
“Plants are alive.”
“I know that.”
“Do you?”
“Ruth.”
Ruth smiled.
“Can you check?”
Lena looked toward the garden.
Yesterday, Basic Appraisal hadn’t given her anything close to the detail Animal Appraisal provided.
But it had worked on food.
Materials.
Objects.
And the System had just unlocked a biological specialization.
Maybe…
She walked toward the garden.
Ruth followed.
A tomato plant grew along a trellis near the edge.
Healthy.
Green.
Covered in fruit.
Lena stopped in front of it and reached out.
Appraise.
DOMESTIC TOMATO
Health: Good
Developmental Stage: Fruiting
Agricultural Value: High
Transition Affinity: LOW
Projected Biological Alteration: Minor Probability
Lena stared.
“Oh.”
Ruth folded her arms.
“Good oh or bad oh?”
“It works.”
“What works?”
“I can tell.”
Ruth stepped closer.
“And?”
“Low.”
“Meaning probably stable.”
“Probably.”
Ruth looked across the garden.
Lena did too.
Tomatoes.
Beans.
Squash.
Corn.
Herbs.
Fruit trees.
Then she thought about the seed packets sitting inside Inventory.
Dormant.
Protected from time.
Her pulse picked up.
Seeds.
“Ruth.”
“What?”
“Do you have seed stored?”
Ruth looked offended.
“Of course I have seed stored.”
“How much?”
“Enough.”
“That’s not a number.”
“It doesn’t need to be.”
“It absolutely needs to be.”
Ruth narrowed her eyes.
“Why?”
Lena was already thinking.
Dormant seeds.
Growing plants.
Transition exposure.
Different varieties.
Different genetics.
If plants could change, seeds might too.
Unless…
Inventory.
Time didn’t move.
Nothing aged.
Nothing spoiled.
Nothing changed.
Would Transition even reach something that wasn’t experiencing time?
She needed to test that.
Now.
Lena started toward Ruth’s truck.
“Where are you going?”
“Home.”
“We’re next door.”
“Fine.
I’m going slightly northwest.”
Ruth followed her.
“What did you think of?”
“Seeds.”
“You said that.”
“I need to check mine.”
Ruth glanced toward her garden.
Then her greenhouse.
Then back at Lena.
“Do I need to buy more?”
Lena opened her mouth.
Stopped.
She had absolutely no evidence yet.
“No idea.”
Ruth nodded.
“Fine.”
They reached the truck.
Ruth unlocked it.
Then paused.
“If the answer is yes?”
Lena looked at her.
Ruth jerked her chin toward Redtail.
“You tell me.”
Lena nodded.
“I will.”
“Good.”
They climbed in.
As Ruth started the engine, Lena looked back at the farm.
Margaret was somewhere among the chickens.
Two cattle carried Moderate affinity.
Two more High.
Four chickens Moderate.
One High.
Most of the animals would probably remain stable.
Some probably wouldn’t.
And now Lena knew plants could change too.
She thought about the boxes of seed in Inventory.
For the first time all day, exhaustion disappeared.
There was another problem.
Which meant there was another thing she could prepare for.
Good.
She could work with that.