{"id":10,"date":"2007-06-03T00:00:56","date_gmt":"2007-06-03T04:00:56","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.spacewesterns.com\/?p=10"},"modified":"2022-11-29T11:05:17","modified_gmt":"2022-11-29T16:05:17","slug":"how-beautiful-the-herd-on-the-dark-matter-range","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.spacewesterns.com\/articles\/how-beautiful-the-herd-on-the-dark-matter-range\/","title":{"rendered":"How Beautiful the Herd on the Dark Matter Range"},"content":{"rendered":"

I<\/strong><\/span> love my job. I\u2019m a man of merely modest accomplishments; I rode herd on the King Ranch down Brownsville way, and if I was the best cowpuncher on the crew, maybe it was a sad thing for the crew overall. But the best I was, so when Mr. D. Richardson started his Dark Matter Husbandry Initiative, I was on the short list. Never mind that I\u2019ve never been out in the black before, which is a rare thing these days. Seems like everyone\u2019s jumping up to the moon and back before lunch. \u201cYou\u2019re the man I want, Jake,\u201d he told me. \u201cI\u2019ve seen you work, and you got a natural instinct with beeves. This job\u2019s the same thing.\u201d It pretty much is.<\/p>\n

About fifteen years ago, when we swore off coal, ran out of oil, and fusion and solar turned out to be pipe dreams, things looked bad for the US of A. Energy rations, electricity riots, martial law\u2014everything got real ugly and real scary. Then Mr. Richardson, who I always said was the cleverest of men, came up with dark matter husbandry. Rather, the husbandry of what we used<\/em> to call dark matter, but we now know for non\u201d\u2018baryonic elementary radicals. I know\u2014\u201cdark matter\u201d is a lot easier. The universe was full<\/em> of this stuff, just waiting for us to harvest it, if only we could find a way. And Mr. Richardson, while gazing over the waving South Texas coastal plain, had this humble epiphany:<\/p>\n

\u201cWe don\u2019t eat the grass,\u201d he said. \u201cWe eat the cow. But the cow eats the grass. So it\u2019s like we\u2019re eating the grass<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n

Bear with me. He went on to explain that the dark matter is the grass; that we just need a \u201ccow,\u201d so to speak, to transform it into something we can use. Then we harvest the cow. It took eight years, dozens of scientists, and maybe a million billion dollars in funding, but he found his cow. They invented one. That\u2019s where I came in.<\/p>\n

W<\/strong><\/span>hen I was a plain\u201d\u2018old rancher down on Earth, I loved the loneliness more than anything. I loved getting out early, when the morning dew and the rising sun filled the fields with soft light, and riding out, feeling like the last human living under that endless sky. Cutting through the high yellow grass, my jean\u201d\u2018cuffs soaked with dew, and feeling just as natural, insignificant, and peaceful as a horned frog sunning himself on a rock.<\/p>\n

So now, I have a little rocket\u201d\u2018scooter instead of my mare (though I painted \u201cBandit\u201d down the side), and I have a vacuum\u201d\u2018suit instead of flannel and a ten\u201d\u2018gallon, but I\u2019m working the biggest range of all. The sun is huge, and the sky is even more endless. I wouldn\u2019t trade it for anything.<\/p>\n

I give Bandit some gas and cruise along, searching for the herd. Mr. Richardson was right. I have a natural instinct for this work, and that\u2019s the only thing that makes the job possible. The cattle don\u2019t show up on radar or sonar or anything \u201d\u2018ar, so it\u2019s up to the naked eye to keep track of them. You have to understand how a herd moves, or you\u2019d lose them in the black within an hour. There<\/em>.<\/p>\n

I approach the herd, firing Bandit\u2019s brakes (reverse thrusters) and slowing in a wide curve. They\u2019re clustered today, not spread out to graze as usual, and they seem… agitated. Make no mistake. The void\u201d\u2018cows (that\u2019s what we call them) don\u2019t resemble normal cattle in the least. They\u2019re not real animals, either, not living beings. They\u2019re a sustained chemical reaction, like nuclear fission or fire. They appear as cow\u201d\u2018sized clouds of purple smoke, flashing with veins of lightning that ranges from bright yellow to dark green. So when I say that they appear agitated, I mean that the lightning is dark green and flashing like anger, quickly, darkly. You get the impression of a cat with its back up, or a porcupine curled and ready to quill you good. I don\u2019t know the science behind this; maybe they\u2019re grazing on a particularly high\u201d\u2018radiation piece of dark matter. Maybe sunspots are getting them riled. Whatever it is, I have my job to do.<\/p>\n

I look for the older ones, the void\u201d\u2018cows that have been grazing for a while and are good and fat; \u201cfat,\u201d again, isn\u2019t entirely accurate. They don\u2019t actually increase in size when they\u2019ve consumed a significant quantity of dark matter and are ready for harvest. The lightning is less frequent, their movements less frenetic. They just feel<\/em> fat.<\/p>\n

When I spot a fat ones, I carefully cut it from the herd, just the way I\u2019d cut a real beeve from horseback, driving it apart from the herd, and, just like a real beeve, the void\u201d\u2018cow protests. The lightning flashes a vicious yellow, and it tries to swerve around me, but I\u2019m quick with Bandit, blocking it from the herd and driving it further away. Bandit, and the Corral, too, are electromagnetically shielded with internal magnetic generators. The void\u201d\u2018cattle can \u201csmell\u201d the magnets, and are repelled by them. I get out my lasso. It\u2019s a foot\u201d\u2018long wand; it generates an electromagnetic bubble that ensnares the animals and baffles their movement. The eggheads call it a Resonating Magnetic Spectrum Projector, but it\u2019s a lasso.<\/p>\n

I zap the beeve, and wince as a lowing pours through my headset. The cattle can generate certain \u201csounds\u201d inaudible to the human ear, yet any speaker (which, after all, just transforms electric signals to sound waves) picks it up and relays it. When I lasso them, the baffling stifles the ongoing reaction, and all the electrons zipping around inside grind down to half\u201d\u2018speed, which produces the sound the lowing. My headset bursts with it, followed by a roar of static. It\u2019s one of the bugs we\u2019ve yet to iron out.<\/p>\n

I cut two more head from the herd, lasso them, and head back to Corral 152, the small station where we hold and slaughter the void\u201d\u2018cattle. I\u2019ve been out here for seven months now with none other but Leo, the head wrangler, and a couple other cowpokes for company. Leo runs the slaughterhouse and keeps the station in tip\u201d\u2018top shape. He\u2019s not too bad, and the other hands are all right, but seven months with only three or four other human beings will drive you to singing at odd hours and digging out your freckles with dinner forks, if you aren\u2019t careful. Thank God<\/em> our rotation\u2019s almost up, and then we\u2019re back at Europa Base for a couple weeks of whiskey and faro.<\/p>\n

Oh, Jesus. A ship, a big\u201d\u2018bellied cargo scow, makes for the Corral, piloted very poorly, I can tell from way out here. But that\u2019s not what alarms me. As the scow makes for the corral, I catch just a glimpse of forest\u201d\u2018green light sternward a couple hundred yards\u2014a cow split off from the herd, heading for the scow and its sweet\u201d\u2018smelling, unshielded electronics. If the cow hits, a flash and a bang, and we\u2019ve got a dead ship and a dead crew. I\u2019ve seen it happen. It\u2019s not pretty.<\/p>\n

I kick Bandit up and speed for the ship. Why the hell would anyone be out here in a ship like that? Goddamn space\u201d\u2018trash, going to get themselves killed<\/em>, and I can\u2019t be responsible for that, so I squeeze the throttle, squeeze every last bit of juice out of my pathetic Bandit, tearing through the black atop a roaring jet of flame. Getting close\u2014cool the throttle, fire port thrusters, drift in sideways at three hundred miles an hour, more port thrusters\u2014there. I come in at just the right speed, and the beeve, startled with a blaze of yellow light, shies away. I nudge it toward the herd, and it goes, still crackling yellow\u201d\u2018red. The scow docks safely, and, once docked, the Corral\u2019s electromagnetic shielding conducts through the ship, protecting it as long as it stays connected.<\/p>\n

\u201cMis<\/em>ter Leonard McCall, I presume?\u201d says the first fellow, and you can probably imagine him pretty well just from the way he hisses \u201cMis<\/em>ter.\u201d<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Heart thumping, mad as a panther with his tail a\u201d\u2018fire, I retrieve my three head and tow them back to the Corral. Leo snares them with the Corral\u2019s Resonating Whatever and gives me the thumbs\u201d\u2018up through the big porthole. Even at this distance, I can tell he\u2019s rattler\u201d\u2018pissed at our visitors, too. I head for the barn, dock Bandit, and wait for the airlock to cycle, then, fuming, stomp down to the deck to see just what the hell<\/em> is going on.<\/p>\n

Leo\u2019s beat me down there, and he\u2019s giving them an earful. \u201cRestricted space! Shielding! Dangerous!\u201d he\u2019s screaming red\u201d\u2018faced at the newcomers, who are still wiping white decontamination dust from their hair.<\/p>\n

\u201cMis<\/em>ter Leonard McCall, I presume?\u201d says the first fellow, and you can probably imagine him pretty well just from the way he hisses \u201cMis<\/em>ter\u201d. He\u2019s thin, with wire glasses and a hawk nose and thinning but well\u201d\u2018kept hair. I\u2019m an easy\u201d\u2018going fellow, but something about this man makes my punching muscles itch. His wheedling voice, maybe, or his clammy handshake. \u201cAnd Mister Jacob Bellows?\u201d He flashes a little smile like how you might flash a business card, then put it away in your wallet. \u201cI\u2019m Lefferts,\u201d he said. \u201cFrom the Department of Agriculture, Regulatory Division.\u201d He indicates a screw\u201d\u2018faced blonde kid. \u201cMy assistant, Reed. I hope we can count on your full cooperation during our investigation.\u201d<\/p>\n

I swear, I could park a combine harvester in Leo\u2019s mouth right now.<\/p>\n

\u201cI<\/strong><\/span> pay my taxes,\u201d Leo says. \u201cI pay my taxes just as much as the next man, maybe a little more. And what else does the government want? I was in the army, too. Semper Fi<\/em>, Lefferts. Do you understand what that means?\u201d He thumps his chest. Lefferts is sifting through a mountain of paperwork on Leo\u2019s desk. Occasionally he wrinkles up his nose like a document might make him sneeze in horror or consternation, bites his lip with his rabbit teeth, and says, \u201cMm\u201d\u2018hmm<\/em>,\u201d and with each long sighing hmm<\/em> Leo\u2019s fists clench and unclench. \u201cIt means \u2018Do your duty.\u2019 We have a duty. We do important work up here.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cActually, Leo, Semper Fi<\/em> means\u2014\u201d I begin, but Lefferts cuts me off.<\/p>\n

\u201cThen you appreciate that I have a duty as well, Mr. McCall. The Department of Agriculture\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhich has no business here! This is an energy<\/em> station!\u201d Leo interjects, but Lefferts holds up a hand.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m coming to that\u2014the DOA is concerned that your \u2018void\u201d\u2018cows\u2019 are not raised and slaughtered in accordance with the International Animal Cruelty Accords.\u201d<\/p>\n

Leo explodes. \u201cBut the Accords only apply to living creatures! These aren\u2019t living!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat,\u201d Lefferts says, all brisk and official, \u201cis precisely what I am here to determine. And should we produce evidence to that effect, then your operation would naturally fall under the jurisdiction of the DOA.\u201d<\/p>\n

Incredulity floors us. I speak up. \u201cBut… they don\u2019t even have a tangible form. They have no mass. How the hell can they be living creatures?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI got something that responds to stimuli,\u201d Leo grunts, \u201cright here in my\u2014\u201d<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

\u201cThe Department has taken the matter in hand,\u201d Lefferts says. \u201cUnder observation, the void\u201d\u2018cows\u2014Singularity Fission Incidents, rather\u2014demonstrate distinct behavior patterns. They respond to stimuli and exhibit basic cognitive abilities.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI got something that responds to stimuli,\u201d Leo grunts, \u201cright here in my\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat Leo\u2019s saying, Mr. Lefferts,\u201d I say, \u201cis that basic cognition isn\u2019t sapience. We have computers with cognitive abilities, and we don\u2019t worry about their living conditions. I tell you\u2014these aren\u2019t animals.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThey demonstrate other characteristics of basic lifeforms. They consume food, or fuel, and reproduce.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThey\u2019re a chemical reaction,\u201d I say, \u201clike fire. Fire consumes fuel and reproduces, too.\u201d<\/p>\n

Lefferts arches an eyebrow (he\u2019s very good at eyebrows), and sniffs, \u201cWe\u2019ve projected the possibility of energy\u201d\u2018based life\u201d\u2018forms before. Even if they don\u2019t possess sapience or self\u201d\u2018awareness, the fact that they can sense and feel\u2014that they have the ability to suffer\u2014means that we must treat them accordingly. That\u2019s all.\u201d<\/p>\n

This whole time the kid Reed has just sulked in the doorway, looking moodily from me to Leo and I wonder if he\u2019s going to stick a knife in my back or something. He doesn\u2019t bother to hide his disdain for us. He speaks for the first time. \u201cButchers is what you are!\u201d he cries. He seems one of those shy kids who speak only under intense feelings, like he just bottles it up until it explodes out. His face reddens. \u201cNot enough to murder flesh and blood animals, you gotta create new<\/em> animals to kill!\u201d He spits. \u201cMake me sick.\u201d He turns away, embarrassed at his own temper.<\/p>\n

\u201cReed, please,\u201d Lefferts says. Leo and I are speechless. \u201cWe\u2019re not here to judge, only to gather evidence from which we may draw irrefutable conclusions. I apologize for my young colleague\u2019s outburst. He\u2019s\u2014passionate about his work. Rest assured, gentlemen, we will do our best to remain fair and objective, but ultimately we must follow the dictates of conscience.<\/p>\n

\u201cPerhaps you do not understand the Animal Rights Accord and why we strive to protect and uphold that piece of legislation. Before the Accord, the food industry was red\u201d\u2018handed in the extreme. We received not a mouthful of food except through pain and suffering. I could tell you of the charnel\u201d\u2018houses\u2014the flaying\u201d\u2018machines\u2014the interminable hells of chickens crammed ten to a cage, born eyeless, beakless, footless to be the more perfect foodstuff. As subjects of life, they are entitled to protection. To an existence free of cruelty. Now, the Accord mandates painless slaughter and cruelty\u201d\u2018free husbandry. As long as the industry operates within these guidelines, we can consume meat with spotless consciences. I enjoy a good Chicken Kiev from time to time.\u201d<\/p>\n

He continues. \u201cBut the possibility of SFIs as the first energy\u201d\u2018based life\u201d\u2018forms would require a drastic overhaul of the system. Should we gather sufficient evidence of their sentience\u2014well, we would certainly have to suspend all operations for the period of further investigation.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat do you need?\u201d Leo sounds beaten.<\/p>\n

Lefferts\u2019s eyes gleam. \u201cTake me to the charnel\u201d\u2018pits, gentlemen.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cC<\/strong><\/span>harnel\u201d\u2018pits\u201d is an overstatement. We have the condenser room, where we convert the SFIs\u2014void\u201d\u2018cows, dammit\u2014to storable energy, and the tank adjacent. Both rooms are heavily shielded. At Leo\u2019s prompting, I trigger the hatch\u2014it opens, and Leo lassoes a beeve and yanks it, protesting, into the condenser. Leo prods it to the center of the room and a magnetic shield pops up around it\u2014a humming energy field, with the scared void\u201d\u2018cow inside. I say \u201cscared\u201d\u2014what I mean is the lightning is a mere flicker, almost a dark blue, and the thing hardly moves at all.<\/p>\n

\u201cThis is an older one,\u201d I say. \u201cIt contains enough converted dark matter to power Houston for fifteen months. Cover your ears.\u201d<\/p>\n

I hit the switch, and the intercom speakers burst into squalling static. Lefferts and Reed slap their hands over their ears, Leo and I put in our earplugs as a hideous high\u201d\u2018pitched shriek fills the room and quivers us down to our teeth. The void\u201d\u2018cow flashes orange, yellow, red, purple, then all those colors at once, elongates vertically, and vanishes. The screaming stops and a drawer on the computer pops open. I remove a fist\u201d\u2018sized bulb that weighs about twenty pounds and toss it to Lefferts. He fumbles it.<\/p>\n

\u201cCareful with that,\u201d I say. \u201cIt\u2019s worth seventy million dollars.\u201d<\/p>\n

He handles it, amazed. \u201cBut that sound<\/em>,\u201d he says. \u201cDear God, what was that sound<\/em>?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe valence bonds ripping in half, transmitted through the intercoms via electromagnetic waves. We haven\u2019t figured out how to stop that… the signal overrides our system every time, and we can\u2019t just disconnect off the intercoms.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s a death\u201d\u2018scream!\u201d Reed shouts, red\u201d\u2018faced again, punching at the air. \u201cIt\u2019s their last breath!\u201d<\/p>\n

Lefferts silences him with a sharp look. \u201cI am inclined to agree with Reed,\u201d he says. \u201cSuch\u2014agony<\/em> in that cry…\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAgony nothing,\u201d I say. \u201cLook at the science. A void\u201d\u2018cow is a sustained chemical reaction. The condensing process\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe slaughtering<\/em> process,\u201d Reed says.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe condensing<\/em> process is the end of that reaction. Like a campfire hissing when you dump water on it, that\u2019s all.\u201d<\/p>\n

Lefferts returns the bulb. \u201cI think I\u2019ve seen enough for now. Allow me to finish sifting through your paperwork…\u201d<\/p>\n

Leo stepped up. \u201cLook, Lefferts. You have a job to do and I respect that. So you understand that we have our own job to do. You remember the electricity riots? Do you remember just how bad<\/em> it got? America depends on our power\u2014the world<\/em> does\u2014and the sad fact is that we\u2019re the top of the food chain. We can\u2019t stay there without some cruelty.\u201d I winced, but Leo barreled on. \u201cAfter the Arctic petrol fields ran dry, I knew people who were shooting ringed seals and squeezing them<\/em> for oil. Christ, we used to kill whales<\/em> to light our lamps at night. We aren\u2019t doing that. These are just blobs of energy. We\u2019ll eat meat, we\u2019ll condense\u2014slaughter\u2014these cows. That\u2019s the price of living.\u201d Thank you, Leo, I think, for screwing that<\/em> pooch in the most amazing way possible. The man has a bona fide talent, I tell you what.<\/p>\n

But he isn\u2019t done! \u201cAnd if you can\u2019t understand that, Lefferts, maybe it\u2019s just for a lack of living yourself. I bet\u2014I bet you\u2019ve never punched cows, for\u201d\u2018real cows on a for\u201d\u2018real ranch. Never chased the herd on horseback or\u2014or worked a day in your life!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSir,\u201d Lefferts says, exhaling dignity, \u201cI am a bureaucrat<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd I ought to knock you right on your bureaucrat ass,\u201d Leo says, hands balled up.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat he means to say,\u201d I begin, but Lefferts interrupts.<\/p>\n

\u201cI think I understand just what Mr. McCall means to say. The stakes here are much too high to allow personal differences to interfere. I will report to the Department with the evidence I have, and should further investigation be required, we will dispatch new employees.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThey\u2019ll send someone else from the Department?\u201d I ask<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, no,\u201d Lefferts gave us one of his creepy non\u201d\u2018smiles. \u201cI mean you two will be recalled for a performance review and replaced by employees on whom we can depend to cooperate. Mr. Richardson is very eager to work with<\/em> the Department on this case.\u201d As he talks, he retreats to the office and scoops up our paperwork. We follow, and Leo keeps clenching and unclenching his fists, and I\u2019m just worried that he\u2019ll wring Lefferts\u2019s neck for him before Lefferts can get away. I try to pacify Lefferts and Leo at the same time.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sure we can work something out. Leo here has had a long day. I\u2019ll show you around the rest of the Corral if you want. There\u2019s no need to make split decisions.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYour goddamn monkey\u2019s loose on my Corral.\u201d<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

\u201cI assure you, Mr. Bellows,\u201d he says majestically, \u201cNone of my decisions are split. I depart forthwith\u2014where\u2019s Reed?\u201d The kid has vanished, when and how we don\u2019t know.<\/p>\n

\u201cAh, hell,\u201d Leo moans. \u201cYour goddamn monkey\u2019s loose on my Corral.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll find him!\u201d I dash through the door.<\/p>\n

I find him right away\u2014he\u2019s in the condenser room, fiddling with the controls. \u201cWhat are you doing?\u201d I howl, and leap to the computer. The red light labeled \u201cexterior hatch\u201d blinks; he\u2019s thrown it open, and I watch through the porthole, horrified, as a dozen void\u201d\u2018cows, a week\u2019s hard work in rounding up, stream through the hatch and into the black.<\/p>\n

\u201cI set them free!\u201d he shouts. \u201cFree from your tyranny, you murderer!\u201d I reach back to belt him one, I\u2019m so mad. He sees my quivering fist, and the color drains from him, and he raises his hands in protest. \u201cSorry!\u201d he cries. \u201cSorry!\u201d I lower my hand. He\u2019s not worth it. A smile snakes across his face, and he is clearly not sorry. My blood boils.<\/p>\n

\u201cGet on down to the deck,\u201d I hiss. \u201cYour boss is lighting a shuck. He\u2019s going to hear about this, you moron, I promise.\u201d He scrambles through the door, and I follow the idiot kid to the deck.<\/p>\n

L<\/strong><\/span>eo has refrained from murdering Lefferts, who finishes the preflight check on their rustbucket scow, and Reed, sullen, gets in beside. Leo leans through the hatch for one last reminder of his thunderous stupidity: \u201cWhat if I gave you some cash?\u201d Lefferts shakes his head scornfully, and Leo and I leave the deck. The hangar bay cycles, the ship is off, and we watch the vidscreen as it pulls away, taking our jobs and futures with it. It coasts, the big chemical thrusters spooling up for a great burst of speed to bear it away. I think about the scathing letter I\u2019m going to write to Lefferts and maybe Mr. Richardson, too. That Reed kid will pay for letting the cows loose, dammit. Eight hundred and forty million in void\u201d\u2018cows, out the window (airlock). He had no right to do that, and now I have to pick up the mess.<\/p>\n

\u201cLook!\u201d Leo grips my arm and points at a corner of the screen. The void\u201d\u2018cows just released by Reed drift away from the Corral in a herd, and pick up speed, making straight for the scow. Leo grabs the radio and bawls, \u201cLefferts! On your six! Burn, burn!\u201d but a peal of static is his only reply. \u201cDamned interference!\u201d We watch the void\u201d\u2018cows, drawn as flies to honey, collide squishily with the scow, slipping through the unshielded innards and sucking them dry of their sweet electricity. The ship founders, gliding along on inertia, but dead in the water; the chemical thrusters continue to spool and erupt in a great gout of flame, and, without the electronic regulators, overload and shatter in a tremendous explosion that rips the little ship in half.<\/p>\n

We are stunned.<\/p>\n

No other word for it. That\u2019s us, stunned. The pieces float in their different directions, and we see the two cold forms of Lefferts and Reed drift off into the black.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell,\u201d Leo says at last, \u201cI guess we get to keep our jobs a while longer.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah,\u201d I say, gruffly.<\/p>\n

\u201cD\u2019you see the way those void\u201d\u2018cows headed straight for the scow? Normally they would have taken off to rejoin the herd, but I guess they waited around after they were released, like they knew the ship would leave soon and they could get \u2018em as soon as they left our shielding.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHuh,\u201d I say. \u201cThat does<\/em> seem like intelligence to me. Guess they are<\/em> alive.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHell,\u201d Leo says. \u201cWell, what do we do now?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t care to do anything.\u201d I sit on the floor. \u201cI\u2019m so depressed I can barely move.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou that torn up over Lefferts and the kid?\u201d Leo asks.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo,\u201d I say. \u201cI just hate being wrong.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Jens Rushing brings us this fine tale about a conflict between energy wranglers and the bureaucracy, in this, our 10th article to appear on SpaceWesterns.com<\/a>. — ed. N.E. Lilly<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":10,"featured_media":475,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[3,5],"tags":[33],"media":[299],"aioseo_notices":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.spacewesterns.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.spacewesterns.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.spacewesterns.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.spacewesterns.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/10"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.spacewesterns.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=10"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.spacewesterns.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1218,"href":"https:\/\/www.spacewesterns.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10\/revisions\/1218"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.spacewesterns.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/475"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.spacewesterns.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=10"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.spacewesterns.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=10"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.spacewesterns.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=10"},{"taxonomy":"media","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.spacewesterns.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?post=10"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}