What Love Breeds

Chapter 9

Essie's head pounds in the early dawn, but this isn't new anymore. Her head has been aching for the last month as her milk supply dwindles. She doesn't know why her milking time has become so much shorter than all the others, but Tommy finishes with her in twenty minutes and leaves with a grimace. Essie whines softly in her pen, much of her breakfast left untouched. Before, the smell was so powerfully alluring, she was scrounging her floor for the last bite. Now, she curls into a ball and whimpers. Her mind is foggy and memories don't fit where they should. Essie has flashes of waking up and going to the field in the middle of the night, being led there time after time. In the next flash, she's waking up in her pen. She groans as the pieces try to fit themselves together and merely mash into one another over and over.

The other girls are still milking when Tommy returns, this time with Dr. Amy and some of her friends in tow. They enter the pen and start manipulating Essie without a word, lifting her arms and strapping some piece of fabric around her bicep that squeezes too tightly. Essie watches Dr. Amy's face as she looks on, though her expression is flat and tells Essie nothing. Tommy and the doctor are talking quietly while Amy's friends continue to grope Essie and inspect her body. They finish as Jason approaches, taking powerful strides that quickly bring him to Essie's pen. Essie's heart rate calms as his presence nears. He comes upon Dr. Amy and Tommy with a smile and a light mist of sweat shining on his brow, speaking with more authority and loud enough for Essie to now hear.

"What seems to be the problem?" he asks. McCarthy raises her eyebrows in Tommy's direction almost imperceptibly. Jason is still jittery, still on edge. It's been a month and if anything, he's getting worse.

Tommy huffs. "Well, EMT299 is still not producing at her former rate, but beyond that, she seems to be in distress daily now. We don't know what changed, but something's off."

Amelia nods. "Her blood pressure is normal, we found nothing wrong with her in a quick physical; we'll need to x-ray her for anything more."

Jason shakes his head. "No, I don't think that's it. Look at her." He gestures to Essie's wincing shape. "It's... something else."

Tommy volunteers, "Well, we could try asking her."

"Asking her?" Jason's voice goes gruff.

"Yeah," Tommy says as he opens Essie's stall door and steps inside. "You know they keep a percentage of their language skills. Maybe she can tell you. Honestly, should've done that before I brought Amelia all the way down here."

Amelia snorts. "Not a bad idea."

Jason pushes past McCarthy and into her stall in a flurry. "Are you sure your answers will be reliable? I mean, her training was obviously more intensive than any we've done before."

"No," Tommy answers, "but it couldn't hurt, right?"

He knees before Essie as McCarthy's interns remove their equipment and bustle back beyond the stall. Essie looks at Tommy with pained, but trusting eyes, that are soothed all the more by Jason's warm scent. That same smell, though, tries to force her memories together. Essie whines.

Tommy levels with her and strokes her hair, brushing it out of her face and shushing her all the while. "Essie, tell us where it hurts. Speak."

The command compels Essie's mouth to open and release a low, pained, "moooooo," before she can think of anything else. Tommy waits, letting her words find their way out. Essie says, "Head... head hurts. Remember...ing things. Outside, at night, but then..." Essie mimes a burst of white light. "Just wake up h... he–"

Jason shushes her again. "It's all right, Essie, very good. Rest easy."

And Essie's eyes roll back as she slumps to the side, her breathing becoming deep and even.