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However, like all research labs, Kenton contained expensive equipment that no one wanted stolen, so there had always been one guard, seldom the same one for very long because the work was so boring. Until now, the greatest excitement at Kenton had been the struggle to keep Lythrum salicaria, purple loosestrife, from displacing native waterfowl food plants. Kenton Memorial Wetlands Preserve and Research Foundation in upstate New York wasn't exactly a hotbed of contentious activity. Security guards, yes, Kenton had always had those, although not because anyone expected trouble. what are you?" Then he saw the blackened craft half submerged in the mud and water. He went on staring at the thing gazing so tranquilly back at him. The dog barked to draw attention to its duck. And the thing went on staring at him from two of its eyes, the two facing sideways, while the third eye stared straight up to the empty gray sky. Before he stopped to think, the man had grabbed the thing behind its head, the way you grabbed a copperhead if you had to grab it at all, and lifted it out of the water. The man bent to pick it up from the shallow water, and the snake swam past him. "Hey, girl, what you got, let's see it there, oh you beauty." The man's wife complained that he talked more affectionately to the dog than to her. The man raised his gun, fired once, twice. "But listen to them ducks!" Abruptly the flock of mallards, until now out of sight, flew up. "Soft, girl, we're not supposed to be here," the man said, grinning. The dog beside him flicked its tail at a dragonfly. Cattails rustled in conspiratorial whispers.
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Each lift of his high boots sucked up mud with a soft splurgling sound. SCIFICTION ORIGINALS edited by Ellen Datlow 2 SciFiction Originals 2 © 2000-2001 by Visit SciFiction at Nancy Kress WETLANDS PRESERVE The duck hunter waded through the marsh, breathing deeply of the sweet dawn air mixed with wet decay.