Matt went through the line, filled his plate, put some cutlery and a napkin in his back pocket, and looked for an empty seat at one of the tables. He was in charge of construction and building maintenance on the ranch, although at times of the year when there was a crush of ranch or farm work he could fill in as a cowboy—he rode well enough and knew something about most of the animal and farming related jobs.

  He saw Shel sitting with Marty and Anna Sanders at a table with one empty chair. She looks good today, he thought, admiring her blond hair moving slightly with the breeze and how she sat straight with a partially buttoned cardigan over her plaid shirt. When she noticed him, she gave him an inviting smile. He walked over and asked, “May I join you?” All three nodded. He set his plate on the table, removed his cutlery from one back pocket and beer bottle from the other, then sat down.

  They were in the midst of a conversation about some minor accounting matter to do with the owner’s house, of which Marty and Anna were the managers. It was seldom occupied in the winter, but Marty was telling Shel that they were getting ready for the warm season when Mr. Bell would be expected to visit at least once a month. Marty turned away from Shel and asked Matt’s advice on some newly discovered window leaks. Matt said he’d be glad to come take a look in a couple of days. Those windows, he thought, are nothing but trouble. Every year it’s something. They should have gotten reliable aluminum-framed ones, not spendy custom wooden jobs.

  When the business matters were out of the way, they all talked about spring: the three locals expressing their joyful anticipation and Shel saying she was looking forward to the landscape finally turning green.

  When they were finished with their main courses, he asked if he could get anyone some dessert. Shel smiled.

  “That’d be nice,” she said.

  A couple of minutes later he returned with two plates of apple pie with vanilla ice cream. Marty and Anna were getting up to go, which was just fine with Matt.

  They ate in silence for a few bites before he asked, “How’re you doin here, on the ranch? Must be different from back east.”

  “Well, actually, the winter helped make the transition easier than if I had come in summer.” That surprised him. “I was near Boston and we had a cold February so coming here a month ago was like winter got extended some. Fewer cars, a bit colder, still plenty of snow. It took a while to get used to driving the dark, empty roads to and from work, but other than that, not much.” She smiled a bit.

  “And your work? Books are just books?”

  “Pretty much. I learned the accounts, and I’m getting a sense of the stuff coming through. I came out here to see a new part of the world, so I’m excited to watch the land coming to life. Bookkeeping is just my useful skill that pays the rent.” She finished with a full smile. “How is your work now that winter is done? I see bills and notes, but I don’t really know what goes on outside the office. Well, except it sounds like you’re going to be working on the ant farm with that guy Daniel.”

  “Me and Eddy and Alan, mainly fix things and keep an eye on what’s workin. Especially when things start up again after winter, like pumps, there’s a lot t’ be checked. We do fix-ups at the ant farm once in a while, and I have t’ report that separately ’cause it’s a different company. Tom says AstroGene’s leanin on Steve t’ help out with the work this year so I suppose I’ll be there a lot more.”

  “Steve told me about that, and there’re accounts in the system for charging them. What’s it like? Inside?”

  “The ant farm?” he replied. “It’s just a big empty buildin since the ant project was shut down, some outdoor pens and a couple fenced pastures. They took out a lot of the equipment. There’s a couple of biologists keepin an eye on the ants, doin studies and such. They use the offices and a small lab.” A thought came to him. “There’s something you should know—” He leaned closer to her, ready to whisper.

  Shel looked eager to hear what he had to say.

  In a hushed tone he continued, “Don’t call ’em ants when Mr. Bell’s around—he thinks it demeans ’em. They’re always Bison antiquus t’ him.”

  “Oh, OK,” she replied, and her eyes dropped back to the apple pie on the table. He hadn’t meant to chastise her. After a bite, she asked, “So that’s where they were developed, or created, or whatever it was?”

  “Sort of,” Matt replied. Much of the work had been completed before he’d arrived, but he told her what he knew. “The science and research was done at AstroGene. They have a ranch in Oregon for that sort of thing. The ant farm’s just a fancy in vitro and birthing facility.”

  “You think they’re starting up with the ants again?”

  “No idea. Above my pay grade” He thought about the plans and specs he’d seen for the fence and the inspection he had done with Daniel last week. He knew he really wasn’t supposed to talk about the new project, but whatever it was, he couldn’t figure out anyway. The fence was tall and strong like the existing ant farm fences, built to hold back bison, but at stream crossings and areas of rough ground, the details suggested nothing bigger than a bunny rabbit would be able to get in or out. “Considering the trouble we had with the ants, I can’t imagine throwing more money their way.”

  “I heard they were hard to manage, kind of grumpy?” Shel asked.

  Matt rolled his eyes. “Regular plains bison are tough enough t’ handle. They’re skittish and their typical reaction when disturbed or frightened is t’ charge. These guys are five times worse. Lots of broken equipment, horses, and men. On top of that, during the ten thousand years they were extinct, the world changed. They’re susceptible t’ just about every livestock disease there is. Most of ’em are sick half the time. Maybe Mr. Bell’s made some breakthrough on the disease front, but if he hasn’t invented bison pacifiers I think it’s a lost cause.” Shel seemed to hang on every word.

  “I remember when I first read about them it was supposed to be all about rewilding the plains. Then there were articles about them being tougher and stronger than plains bison, so it might be about meat. Mainly I remember thinking it was weird to put all that energy into resurrecting them,” she said.

  “The rewildin people,” Matt replied, “have no use for the ants. Plains bison’ll do just as well as the ants for any prairie restoration scheme. They survive fine, and they give the wolves a run for their money. I’ve heard Mr. Bell’s obsessive about ice age animals and once he got a clean enough sample of antiquus cells he just couldn’t resist the impulse t’ see if he could make one. Rich boys and their toys.” Matt was dismissive of the whole idea of the project, but he figured Jimmy Bell could spend his money as he liked, especially if it paid Matt’s wages.

  Shel smiled at the comment about toys. “Maybe he’ll try camelops or some kind of North American horse. Short-faced bears would be a bad idea.” She finished with a grin, making it a joke. Matt shrugged. Bears double the size and meaner than grizzlies would indeed be a bad idea. “I guess the whole ranch is like that,” Shel continued, “a toy. But it seems like Mr. Bell is thinking about the environment, which is more than I can say for some places I’ve been. We’ve got solar and wind, make our own H2 for motors and fuel cells, better sewage management than old-fashioned septic, and everything we grow is organic.”

  “You can’t own ranchland today and not think about it. Healthy environment means productive environment, so nowadays ranchers worry all the time about the state of their land.”

  “Makes sense,” Shel replied, staring out across the open ranchland next to the patio. “But if they’re not going to tell anyone what it’s about people are going to spend their time wondering and gossiping. Maybe we should start a pool. What would you bet on?” She paused, and Matt shrugged again.

  He was beginning to feel like this was a game of twenty questions, and it was making him uncomfortable. Not that he had given away any secrets, but he had been told not to discuss upcoming work at the ant farm with outsiders and to discuss as little as possible with other ranch employees. Out of the blue Shel asked him another question.

  “Do you fly-fish? I’ve heard that this is some of the best fly-fishing in the country.” That took Matt by surprise. She went on after a moment, “My dad taught me when I was a kid and it’s been a long time since I was out, but I brought my gear and I’m dying to try.” Eagerness and enthusiasm had replaced serial questioning, but now Matt was out of his depth.

  “Some of the guys, Arlen and Dillon especially, go over t’ the Smith River on the west side of the ranch, but I’ve never been much for fishin. I like t’ camp and hike, do some fall huntin. If you’re interested, I’d be happy t’ take you out around the ranch so you can see it. We could take a couple horses on a weekend.” He was stopped by her surprised—or was it embarrassed?—expression.

  “I rode hunters and jumpers, English, when I was a kid,” she told him. “It’s been fifteen years since I was on a horse. I never did Western.”

  “Then you’ll have t’ sign up for lessons, won’t you?” he returned cheerfully, amused that he had caught out the city girl in her. “Four-wheel drives and ATVs are good, but if you really want t’ see the ranch up close, horses are the way.” Now she looked worried. “I know you have a busy job, but I’d be happy t’ give you a couple of hours t’ get you started. We have some horses here that are darn near dead, so they won’t give you any trouble. It’s like ridin a bike—you never forget how. We have plenty of tack, so y’don’t need t’ buy anythin.”

  Despite her tendency to ask questions and her general ignorance of ranch life, he thought it might be fun to show her around.

  Chapter 3

  The following Saturday morning was a sunny but crisp early spring day. Shel had come prepared for her first outing on the ranch with a thermal quilt vest over a long-sleeved turtleneck, blue jeans, ankle-height hiking boots, and Red Sox baseball cap. In her vest pocket, she carried a pair of aviator sunglasses with a hidden camera that linked to her pocket tab. Early in the week Matt had offered her a riding lesson but had called Friday to say there was a problem scheduling the horses. Today they would go out on ATVs.

  She headed to the open door of the ranch’s main shed, a cavernous steel building that served as a warehouse for everything from office furniture to the combine harvester that made Shel think of a green spaceship come to earth.

  Matt was already driving toward her on the first of two ATVs he had reserved for their outing. “Mornin,” he said as he stopped near her just inside the door. “Looks like a perfect day. I’ll be back in a minute with the other one,” he said and walked back inside.

  She looked over the quad while he went back to get the second: about four feet wide, seven feet long, motorcycle-like controls and handlebar steering, H2 fuel cell, electric four-wheel drive. It was more substantial than she had expected, a work vehicle for a ranch, not a weekend toy. When he returned with the second one, Matt began coaching her on how to operate it. He wasn’t telling her anything she didn’t know.

  “Rick, my ex, had a couple of motorcycles and taught me to ride,” she said, cutting him short. “The controls look pretty much the same, and these have more wheels, so I think I’ll be OK.”

  “Yeah, they’re like a four-wheel motorcycle. Biggest danger’s hittin a rock or a hole and goin over the handlebars, so keep an eye out. You can’t always see what’s in front of you when you’re off the roads.” She nodded and put on her sunglasses as he handed her a helmet. After Matt closed the shed door, they mounted up and drove south on the main road from the ranch headquarters area.

  It was exhilarating. The ranch road gradually deteriorated into a two-rut track, so they had to ride off to one side or straddle the center hump. The ground had been rising gradually as it crossed open land. New grass was springing up dark green, and there were occasional scrubby fir trees. The smells of damp earth and spring were in the air. Cattle grazing on hillsides a few hundred yards from the track, dark shapes against the sloping green, paid them no mind. They continued on for several miles before cresting a rise where Shel could see what she took to be buildings in the distance, remote and sheltered by steep, tree-covered hills on two sides. To one side of the flat land there was a scattering of dark shapes, which at first she took to be cattle but then recognized by their distinctive high shoulders as bison. Just past the crest Matt came to a stop.

  “That’s the ant farm,” he told her, and she looked again.

  “Really? This seems like the middle of nowhere.”

  “I think AstroGene likes it that way,” Matt replied. “Easier t’ keep strangers away. That’s one of the bison herds.” He pointed to the animals. “The ant herd should be here too, about two dozen of ’em. We’ll keep our distance so we don’t disturb ’em.” He drove his quad ahead, and Shel followed. They approached the buildings and herd slowly. Her heart was racing, not just because she hoped she was about to see the ants but also the whole experience of crossing the ranchland was so new to her. And she was at the center of her quest: What would soon be happening in those buildings? What secrets would there be? What travesties?

  They got within a quarter mile of the ant farm complex and stopped again. At close range she saw that the complex was a sizeable industrial building surrounded by tall fences. The fences formed several enclosures, including a couple that appeared to be quite large. Two smaller buildings were off to the right, outside the fenced areas. A small parking lot held only one car and one truck, and a paved road led away from the complex along the base of the hills. Beyond the small buildings she could see a field of south-facing solar panels.

  She could see that there were actually two herds where she thought there’d been one. A couple of hundred yards away and to the left of the fenced areas, were scores of bison. A second herd—maybe twenty animals, she guessed—was closer to the buildings. She remembered her encounter with bison on her first day at the ranch. The animals in the larger herd were similar, though they had lost much of their heavy winter coats, rendering them smoother and lighter brown. She could pick out the males because they were larger than the females, but there were only a few she could see. The herd was spread out, grazing, and she saw a few small calves trailing behind their mothers. One was rolling on the ground, as if trying to scratch its back. They seemed peaceful enough.

  She turned her attention to the other herd and immediately saw that the bison there were all larger than any in the first herd. They weren’t that much different except for their size, which also varied within the small group, and she had to look back and forth a couple of times to be sure she had the scale right. The Bison antiquus in the small herd were, as she had read before coming to the ranch, at least a quarter again larger than the normal bison but otherwise similar. The most noticeable difference between the two types, aside from size, was the ants’ horns—perhaps not as long but larger in diameter and horizontal with a small upturn at the end. She noted there were no calves grazing with them.

  “That’s them, right?” she said, indicating the small herd, her voice quiet with wonder.

  “Yup. Thought you’d be interested. You’re now a member of a small and exclusive club: you’ve seen ’em.”

  “Is this OK? Are we allowed to be here?” She looked back and forth some more, her interest and excitement overcoming any worry about rules. “They really aren’t that different are they? Just bigger.” Matt nodded. “They have much thicker coats on their heads and shoulders, don’t they?” Matt nodded again. “And the horns—those are way different, straight.” She took her pack out from the quad and started to look through it for her tab. She had to get a photo.

  “Sorry, Shel, no pictures of the ants or the ant farm. It’s all right for ranch employees t’ be here, but no pictures. Y’can get a picture of the regular bison if we see more, but nothin in this area.” He had an expression which Shel took to mean he was serious. She was thrilled to be here, and pictures were definitely in order. When Matt looked away she rubbed the right temple of her sunglasses to activate the camera and the projection display on the inside of one lens—it was set for one picture per second—and she scanned slowly and smoothly across the herds and the buildings.

  “Are they all there?” she asked after half a minute. Matt took out his tab, larger than hers, about ten inches square, and thick, clearly made for rough outdoor use, and switched it on. He manipulated the images on the screen then showed it to her. She could see on her sunglass display she was getting pictures of it too. There was an aerial photo of the area with numbered circles overlaid where the ants were grazing.

  “They’re all chipped and tied into the ranch geolocation system. Looks like all but two are there. See these down here?” he asked indicating a couple of H-shaped icons with four-digit numbers. She nodded. “That’s us. The quads are tagged so we can always find ’em. If you get lost, we’ll find you too. It’s partly security, partly safety, but mainly about management of the herds.” He swiped the screen to move the map toward the larger herd and scores of round icons appeared with six-digit numbers, all so close together on the screen they were unreadable. “That’s the other herd,” he told her. Shel brushed the temple of the sunglasses again to turn off the camera after she got one last good shot of the screen. She was nervous and excited at the same time.

  The hour of cross country on the quads had taken a toll on Shel. Coming off the high of seeing the ants and the ant farm, she was starting to feel tired and hungry. Matt said he knew a place close by where they could stop for lunch.

  A couple of miles back in the direction of the ranch headquarters, Matt turned off the track and led Shel up a gently sloping gap between hills for a mile or so until they reached the top. It was a ridge beyond which vast meadows of spring grasses dropped off into a river valley and a view of surrounding hills past the river. It looked as though the river had cut the hills away to make low cliffs on one side and then the other as it meandered side to side through the landscape. Most of the land was grassy and open, but much, especially the sloping parts, was forested. Shel had seen some beautiful places in the east, but here there were no roads or buildings or other people to be seen. She had a sense of being far away from civilization and alone in this landscape. It took her breath away. She spun in a wide circle to absorb the panorama, to imprint it in her mind.