"Aye." Tian made a visible effort to do just that. "What do'ee think of my field, gunslinger? I'm going to plant it with madrigal next year. The yellow stuff ye saw out front."
What Eddie thought was that the field looked like a heart-break waiting to happen. He suspected that down deep Tian thought about the same; you didn't call your only unplanted field Son of a Bitch because you expected good things to happen there. But he knew the look on Tian's face. It was the one Henry used to get when the two of them were setting off to score. It was always going to be the best stuff this time, the best stuff ever. China White and never mind that Mexican Brown that made your head ache and your bowels run. They'd get high for a week, the best high ever, mellow , and then quit the junk for good. That was Henry's scripture, and it could have been Henry here beside him, telling Eddie what a fine cash crop madrigal was, and how the people who'd told him you couldn't grow it this far north would be laughing on the other side of their faces come next reap. And then he'd buy Hugh Anselm's field over on the far side of yon ridge... hire a couple of extra men come reap, for the land'd be gold for as far as you could see... why, he might even quit the rice altogether and become a madrigal monarch.
Eddie nodded toward the field, which was hardly half-turned. "Looks like slow plowing, though. You must have to be damned careful with the mules."
Tian gave a short laugh. "I'd not risk a mule out here, Eddie."
"Then what - ?"
"I plow my sister."
Eddie's jaw dropped. "You're shitting me!"
"Not at all. I'd plow Zal, too - he's bigger, as ye saw, and even stronger - but not as bright. More trouble than it's worth. I've tried."
Eddie shook his head, feeling dazed. Their shadows ran out long over the lumpy earth, with its crop of weed and thistle. "But... man... she's your sister!"
"Aye, and what else would she do all day? Sit outside the barn door and watch the chickens? Sleep more and more hours, and only get up for her taters and gravy? This is better, believe me. She don't mind it. It's tur'ble hard to get her to plow straight, even when there ain't a plow-buster of a rock or a hole every eight or ten steps, but she pulls like the devil and laughs like a loon."
What convinced Eddie was the man's earnestness. There was no defensiveness in it, not that he could detect.
"Sides, she'll likely be dead in another ten year, anyway. Let her help while she can, I say. And Zalia feels the same."
"Okay, but why don't you get Andy to do at least some of the plowing? I bet it'd go faster if you did. All you guys with the smallhold farms could share him, ever think of that? He could plow your fields, dig your wells, raise a barn roofbeam all by himself. And you'd save on taters and gravy." He clapped Tian on the shoulder again. "That's got to do ya fine."
Tian's mouth quirked. "It's a lovely dream, all right."
"Doesn't work, huh? Or rather, he doesn't work."
"Some things he'll do, but plowing fields and digging wells ain't among em. You ask him, and he'll ask you for your password. When you have no password to give him, he'll ask you if you'd like to retry. And then - "
"Then he tells you you're shit out of luck. Because of Directive Nineteen."
"If you knew, why did you ask?"
"I knew he was that way about the Wolves, because I asked him. I didn't know it extended to all this other stuff."
Tian nodded. "He's really not much help, and he can be tiresome - if'ee don't ken that now, ye will if'ee stay long - but he does tell us when the Wolves are on their way, and for that we all say thankya."
Eddie actually had to bite off the question that came to his lips. Why did they thank him when his news was good for nothing except making them miserable? Of course this time there might be more to it; this time Andy's news might actually lead to a change. Was that what Mr. You-Will-Meet-An-Interesting-Stranger had been angling for all along? Getting the folken to stand up on their hind legs and fight? Eddie recalled Andy's decidedly smarmy smile and found such altruism hard to swallow. It wasn't fair to judge people (or even robots, maybe) by the way they smiled or talked, and yet everybody did it.
Now that I think about it, what about his voice? What about that smug little I-know-and-you-don't thing he's got going on ? Or am I imagining that, too ?
The hell of it was, he didn't know.
THREE
The sound of Susannah's singing voice accompanied by the giggles of the children - all children great and small - drew Eddie and Tian back around to the other side of the house.