“I thought we could scare you off. You know, force you to leave a few crumbs behind.”
“With rocks?”
Clarissa shrugged. “We’re hungry. We’ll try anything to get some food.”
“We?” J.B. asked.
“Me and the muties.”
“You’re with the muties.”
“Always.”
J.B. just looked at her, trying to figure out the woman. She didn’t seem afraid or even worried about what the friends might do to her. And she was definitely a norm, but instead of living with other norms she seemed to be living with, maybe even leading the muties.
Very strange.
“I wonder if you and your mutie friends might still be hungry?” Doc asked.
“We’re always hungry.”
“Well, perhaps we can make a trade.”
J.B. wasn’t sure what Doc had in mind, but he seemed to have a plan.
“Trade for what?” She eyed him suspiciously.
“For some information.”
“About?”
“The area around here. And about Fox Farm.”
“Sure,” she said. “What have you got to trade?”
Doc smiled. “This bag of fruit.”
Without a word, Clarissa took the bag from Doc and began pitching peaches, pears and apples into the nearby weeds. The muties there began to feed. She took a few of the fruits for herself, turned back to face Doc and J.B. and said, “Ask away.”
J.B. moved in closer. “Three of our friends went missing last night, and we found a sec man from Fox Farm dead in one of the rooms of the hotel we were Staying in.”
“Are your missing friends women?” “Two of them are.”
Clarissa nodded. “They took the women for breeding. Not sure why they’d take a man, though. They’ve got more of them than they need on the farm.”
“For breeding? I don’t understand.”
“Fox Farm grows food. Best around for miles— hell, it’s the only food around for miles. See, Baron Fox knows all about electricity, so he came out here a few years ago with the idea of using the power from the falls to start his own little barony. With the electricity he was able to rework the soil and bring in freshwater from the bottom of the lake. But the more he grows on the farm, the less there seems to be for anyone on the outside. The land here’s good for growing, but any time we’ve tried to plant something the weeds grow so fast everything gets choked off. That’s why the baron has so many slaves working for him. They spend most of their time pulling weeds.”
“Slaves?” Dean repeated.
“Sure, that’s why there’s an electric fence all the way around the farm. It keeps animals and muties out of the orchards, but it doesn’t let anyone out, either.”
“We thought as much about the fence,” J.B. said, nodding.
“Uh, excuse me, dear lady,” Doc interjected. “But you mentioned something about breeding.”
She took another bite of an apple, eating slowly now that she’d eaten a few fruits and had sated some of her hunger. “One of the reasons they grow a lot of fruit is for trade. They supply a few big eastern villes with fresh produce, so the farm is well stocked with everything like linen and soap, sugar and clothes.”
“Blasters?” J.B. asked.
Clarissa laughed. “All kinds. Maybe a few grens— I can’t be sure since I don’t know a lot about weapons. There’s a lot of them, though, I know that.”
“What about the breeding?” Doc repeated, looking a little frustrated.
“Well, the other reason they grow so much food is to feed the slaves. See, they all work hard pulling weeds and picking fruit, and at night they rut. All night, every night.”
“What does she mean by rut?” Dean asked.
“Rut,” Doc answered, “is a vulgar term meaning to have sexual relations, especially intercourse.”
“That’s right, rut,” Clarissa said. “Baron Fox trades in fruit and vegetables, but he also trades in slaves and babies.”
“Babies?” Dean seemed confused.
“Since everyone is rutting every night, the women are getting heavy all the time. And since most of the offspring are norms, they are worth a lot to couples in the eastern villes who can’t have kids of their own because of rad sickness or whatever.”
“So that’s how he’s been able to become so rich,” J.B. concluded.