The Magdalene Cipher by Jim Hougan Page B

more animated .
    â€œI’m not exaggerating, y’know. That was it . Them things were dead silent.”
    â€œJesus!”
    â€œHallelujah!”
    The response took Dunphy by surprise, but he plunged on with the interview. “So you were in Dreamland until? . . .”
    â€œÂ â€™Seventy-nine.”
    â€œAnd then you retired.”
    â€œNo,” Brading corrected. “I didn’t retire until ’84. By then, Dreamland was lookin’ a little iffy.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œThe handwritin’ was on the wall. You couldn’t have that many people flyin’ in and outa Vegas all day without somebody blowin’ the whistle.”
    â€œSo they moved you.”
    â€œI’ll say.”
    â€œWhere to?”
    â€œVaca Base.” When he saw that this meant nothing to Dunphy, he elaborated. “It’s a hanging canyon in the Sawtooth Mountains. Over Idaho way. Only way in and out is with a chopper. It was real peaceful.”
    â€œI’ll bet.”
    Brading cocked an eye at Dunphy. “I thought you were interested in my illness.”
    â€œI am,” Dunphy said. “Tell me about it.”
    â€œI don’t know what’s to tell. I’m in remission, but . . . there isn’t any cure, really. I got CJD—ever heard of it?”
    â€œYeah,” Dunphy said. “It’s, uhh . . .” He couldn’t think of the technical name. Finally he said, “Mad cow disease.”
    Brading looked surprised .
    â€œI lived in England,” Dunphy explained .
    â€œOh, well, of course—it’s bad there. I guess everybody’s heard about it over there . . . but not here.”
    â€œHow did you—”
    â€œâ€”get it?” Brading threw up his hands. “I got it on the Census—how else?”
    â€œThe Census . . .” Dunphy said .
    â€œThe Bovine Census. Whattaya think we’re talking about? Whattaya think I was doing?” Dunphy must have looked blank, because Brading wouldn’t let it go. “You’re Andromeda-cleared, and you ain’t never heard of the Bovine Census?!”
    Dunphy did his best to look impassive but, inside, he was wincing. He didn’t say anything for a few moments, and then he leaned forward. “A mansion has many rooms, Mr. Brading.” Saying it in the way that he did, in a voice no louder than a whisper, made the platitude seem like a warning .
    Dunphy could hear the wheels turning behind Brading’s forehead . What does that mean? A mansion has . . . whut? Finally, the older man grunted. “Well, anyway—what it was—maybe you know—we took off at night and—well, we went after the cows. On ranches.”
    â€œYou went after the cows.”
    â€œKilled ’em. Not a lot on any one ranch—not a lot on any one night. But some.”
    Dunphy was stunned. He didn’t know what to ask. “ ‘Some,’ ” he repeated. “How many would that be?”
    â€œWell, let’s see. Starting in ’72 . . . I guess we slaughtered a couple thousand, all told. The newspapers said there were four or five times that many, but . . . after a while, you had copycats. Once these things get started, they sorta take on a life of their own. In fact, that was kinda the point—I mean, the way I understood it, that was the whole idea. Give it a life of its own.”
    â€œA couple thousand,” Dunphy repeated .
    â€œAnd some horses.”
    Dunphy nodded. Horses, too .
    â€œIn fact,” Brading said, “one of the first animals we killed was a horse. Belonged to the King Ranch. Stripped the flesh from her neck up. Which was a big deal in the papers. Snippy the Horse. You probably saw the stories. It was front-page, ever’where. Poor thing.”
    Dunphy shook his head and thought, This is what they mean by cognitive dissonance . This is what they