Walking from the small ranch house towards the barn is CLARK CAMERON, a spare man in his mid-30’s. CLARK is dressed in overalls and work clothes, but his high cheekbones and dignified bearing betray his noble ancestry. He carries a metal pail and a soft-bristled hand brush with a simple leather strap.
INT. CLARK’S BARN
The barn itself is dark compared to the outside, but a significant amount of natural light still reaches the dusty floors from the high windows. Twenty stalls hold CLARK’s modest herd, and as he approaches the nearest, a blue ribbon and a faded photograph of CLARK and ILYANA can be seen. As CLARK rounds the corner of the stall, ILYANA, a handsome Belted Galloway cow, lows softly in her stall. CLARK puts the brush on a hook in the stall and the pail on the ground before reaching up to pat ILYANA’s back.
CLARK
You won’t believe the day I’ve had, Ilyana.
ILYANA
Moo.
CLARK chuckles and takes the brush on his right hand, gently brushing ILYANA’s long coat. The cow seems content chewing her cud. CLARK speaks to her as he brushes.
CLARK
So, I went by the HPG station to send
those files to my “cousin Cletus,” right?
CLARK winks to signify that he and ILYANA both know that the files were not for Cletus. ILYANA does not respond. Unfazed, CLARK continues.
CLARK
When I got there, the place was closed down!
I mean, the door was still open, but the kid behind
the counter said that all off-planet communications
had been shut off! Can you believe the nerve of those
Word of Blake characters? I just know something interesting
has happened at that Tharkad summit, and they
don’t want us to know about it.
ILYANA
Mooooo.
CLARK
I know! I started to read the kid the riot act, because
“Cletus” really needs this info. Fortunately, then my buddy
Simon walked in. You know Simon - he comes
by on weekends sometimes.
ILYANA turns her head lazily to look back at CLARK. CLARK seems to take this for assent.
CLARK
Simon wasn’t able to get any info out of his
co-workers at the station, either. I tried
to convince him to use his access to send the
message, but he was a little shy about it. Not surprising,
I guess - he could lose his job if he got caught!
CLARK puts the brush back on the hanging peg and shifts a milking stool from the corner of the stall beside ILYANA. He pats her reassuringly on the flank before positioning the milk pail beneath her and beginning to milk the animal.
CLARK
I decided a little white lie in the service of
the Resistance couldn’t hurt too much, so
I told Simon that Cletus had leukemia and
my message was the results of a bone marrow test
to see if I was a match. Eventually, he agreed to
help me send the message after-hours. That would
mean breaking into the HPG station, of course.
ILYANA snorts and paws the ground lightly. Clark rubs her flank with one hand and pats her, speaking in soothing tones.
CLARK
There, there, girl. I know you worry about me.
I did a few B&E’s back in high school, though.
This wasn’t too hard. We climbed the fence out
back where the transmitter was. It was padlocked up,
though, presumably so people couldn’t do exactly
what we were about to do. I had to climb BACK over
the fence to get my toolbox from my car. I couldn’t
pick or cut a lock that thick...but I could take the doors off!
Remember when I replaced the barn door last month?
CLARK pauses in his milking to look at the Galloway expectantly. ILYANA continues to chew her cud. CLARK shrugs.
CLARK
Well, it was pretty much the same.
Once I took the doors off at the hinges, Simon
was able to log in and send my message direct
from the console. Good thing, too - I bet that the
REAL ComStar folks are depending on whatever
intelligence can get off Terra, now that the
Word of Blake has dropped the iron curtain, so to speak.
CLARK finishes milking ILYANA and sets the full pail aside. He scoots the milking stool back into place and pats the cow once more before adding more fodder to her trough.
CLARK
Oh, and McDonald’s mare finally
foaled yesterday, too! It was a filly.
CLARK then exits the barn with the pail and brush, whistling tunelessly.
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