heart fix. Pack a few things. Bring cigars.”
“No, I wouldn't make it.” He gave Moldenke a key. “Here, take my k-motor. The tire is low but it runs. It might get you there. Trust me, Moldenke. Get on it. I'll see you after the flood maybe, depending on the hearts. The calf heart is a good one. It may suffice alone when the other ones quit. Go, Moldenke. I'll broadcast till the man comes. We'll see what happens.” He took Moldenke's elbow and led him to the door. “Goodbye, Dink.”
Moldenke tightened his coat straps. “Thank you for the tea, Shelp. He sat in the lift chair and buckled in. He turned to Shelp. “I'll be looking for you after the flood.”
Shelp smiled, bent forward, holding his chest, went back into the weather room.
The telephone rang. He stood over it and let it ring. The lights went off. He took off his rubber shoe and dipped his foot in the floor pit. As the embers sizzled into the flesh, the phone stopped ringing, the lights went on, and the gauges gave accurate readings.
49]
One season past, Moldenke thought of farming. He wrote off for a dozen chickens in the mail. In a genuine month he received a package of egg shells and a bag of yellow powder.
He opened the Ways & Means to agriculture, found most of the section deleted. He turned to livestock and found a picture of a wooden bull, mechanically cranked, ejaculating plastic sacks of sperm into a bucket. Burnheart stood smiling over the wooden bull, wearing his cowboy hat.
50]
Dear Moldenke,
Whether or not you have feelings for me, or feelings at all, I do have feelings about you. They increased when you compared my nipples to pencil erasers. No one has been so gentle to me.
The clouds are promising rain.
Love,
Cock Roberta
51]
Dear Cock,
Although my feelings have not improved, I like you more. Burnheart is trying to find me a laboratory job in the city. If he does we can be together on weekouts. I enjoy your apparent affection for me. When I see you I'll play the Buxtehude. Do you have a piano?
Your friend,
Moldenke
52]
Dear Doctor Burnheart,
In the morning my first duty at the Trop Garden is to walk the banana rows and inspect the plants.
If I see mites or spiders or anything unusual, my second duty is to report it to you. Consider this, today's report:
(1) Triple the usual number of mites, no spiders.
(2) Normally I see a few spiders. Today, none.
(3) Leaves facing the southern sun are dry and fibrous.
(4) General trunk damage.
(5) Jellied fruit, if any.
(6) Dead snipes covering the ground.
Cordially yours,
Awaiting word,
Moldenke
53]
Dear Moldenke,
We have cause for concern. It is not good that one branch of arachnida would be present in greater numbers, while another branch declines. It's a puzzle, son. Thank you for sending me the pieces. I'll work on it. Eagleman should know about it, too. Meanwhile, continue the rounds. Report any further changes.
Yours in spades,
Burny
54]
Dear Burny,
When this note reaches you, the way the mails are these days, I will have left the Trop Garden. There was nothing I could do. I'm afraid the Garden is dead. The snipes are growing deeper. The stink is driving me off, and I don't have to mention the flies. I saw the last banana plant crimp and bend over dead. Something of me went with it, Doc. I won't be the same again.
Regretfully yours,
Moldenke
55]
When the lift stopped suddenly he vomited tea and cat weenies. He changed gauze pads, rewound his hand bandage. He lit his lighter and found the k-motor. He read the tire gauge, had to ignore the high reading. The tire was low. He walked the length of the tire, spot-checking it by lighter light, looking for weak spots in the rubber. Overall, the tire seemed sound.
He threw his backpack up to the platform and climbed the ladder, lowering himself into the motor room through a shaft. He cranked the motor a dozen times. One cylinder fired. He wound the
“No, I wouldn't make it.” He gave Moldenke a key. “Here, take my k-motor. The tire is low but it runs. It might get you there. Trust me, Moldenke. Get on it. I'll see you after the flood maybe, depending on the hearts. The calf heart is a good one. It may suffice alone when the other ones quit. Go, Moldenke. I'll broadcast till the man comes. We'll see what happens.” He took Moldenke's elbow and led him to the door. “Goodbye, Dink.”
Moldenke tightened his coat straps. “Thank you for the tea, Shelp. He sat in the lift chair and buckled in. He turned to Shelp. “I'll be looking for you after the flood.”
Shelp smiled, bent forward, holding his chest, went back into the weather room.
The telephone rang. He stood over it and let it ring. The lights went off. He took off his rubber shoe and dipped his foot in the floor pit. As the embers sizzled into the flesh, the phone stopped ringing, the lights went on, and the gauges gave accurate readings.
49]
One season past, Moldenke thought of farming. He wrote off for a dozen chickens in the mail. In a genuine month he received a package of egg shells and a bag of yellow powder.
He opened the Ways & Means to agriculture, found most of the section deleted. He turned to livestock and found a picture of a wooden bull, mechanically cranked, ejaculating plastic sacks of sperm into a bucket. Burnheart stood smiling over the wooden bull, wearing his cowboy hat.
50]
Dear Moldenke,
Whether or not you have feelings for me, or feelings at all, I do have feelings about you. They increased when you compared my nipples to pencil erasers. No one has been so gentle to me.
The clouds are promising rain.
Love,
Cock Roberta
51]
Dear Cock,
Although my feelings have not improved, I like you more. Burnheart is trying to find me a laboratory job in the city. If he does we can be together on weekouts. I enjoy your apparent affection for me. When I see you I'll play the Buxtehude. Do you have a piano?
Your friend,
Moldenke
52]
Dear Doctor Burnheart,
In the morning my first duty at the Trop Garden is to walk the banana rows and inspect the plants.
If I see mites or spiders or anything unusual, my second duty is to report it to you. Consider this, today's report:
(1) Triple the usual number of mites, no spiders.
(2) Normally I see a few spiders. Today, none.
(3) Leaves facing the southern sun are dry and fibrous.
(4) General trunk damage.
(5) Jellied fruit, if any.
(6) Dead snipes covering the ground.
Cordially yours,
Awaiting word,
Moldenke
53]
Dear Moldenke,
We have cause for concern. It is not good that one branch of arachnida would be present in greater numbers, while another branch declines. It's a puzzle, son. Thank you for sending me the pieces. I'll work on it. Eagleman should know about it, too. Meanwhile, continue the rounds. Report any further changes.
Yours in spades,
Burny
54]
Dear Burny,
When this note reaches you, the way the mails are these days, I will have left the Trop Garden. There was nothing I could do. I'm afraid the Garden is dead. The snipes are growing deeper. The stink is driving me off, and I don't have to mention the flies. I saw the last banana plant crimp and bend over dead. Something of me went with it, Doc. I won't be the same again.
Regretfully yours,
Moldenke
55]
When the lift stopped suddenly he vomited tea and cat weenies. He changed gauze pads, rewound his hand bandage. He lit his lighter and found the k-motor. He read the tire gauge, had to ignore the high reading. The tire was low. He walked the length of the tire, spot-checking it by lighter light, looking for weak spots in the rubber. Overall, the tire seemed sound.
He threw his backpack up to the platform and climbed the ladder, lowering himself into the motor room through a shaft. He cranked the motor a dozen times. One cylinder fired. He wound the
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