New Orbit Magazine Issue 08; Feb 2020, The Future of Animals

“Go on, Ed Hillary,” she said, with a smile that
warmed him all the way to his toes. Blushing, not
stopping to think about it, he teetered from one
rock to the next until he was opposite the ram. It
regarded him without fear, ears pricked forward.
If he leaned out he should just be able to grab it.
Tama stretched out and got his hands on the rock
ledge the sheep was standing on. He reached one
hand out to grab a foreleg.
The ram saw his chance. With a wild bleat that
sounded more like a war cry, he charged forward,
using Tama’s body as a bridge. Tama let out a yelp
as heavy hooves pounded his head and back. With
a parting snort, the sheep trotted merrily down the
slope to join the rest of the flock. Tama eased
himself back off the ledge and followed it down.
Angie grinned at him. “Tama Titoko, Sheep
Whisperer,” she said.
He nodded solemnly. “I’m going to get some
business cards printed.”
The transport truck backed up to the pen, and
Davey lowered the ramp. The sheep were coaxed
into the truck, moving faster when they got a whiff
of the Lucerne hay placed there to entice them.
All the commotion had attracted an audience.
Some of the locals and their kids leaned on the
fence, watching.
“You’re from the university?” a woman in a
homespun jersey asked. “What would youse want
with a bunch of scrub sheep? That lot are only
good for dog tucker.”
Doctor Makareti never missed a chance to
educate people about her work.
“This population of Merino sheep has been
largely isolated in this valley for more than a
century. They’ve never been crossed with any
other sheep breeds. They thrive on poor quality
grazing, and they’re free of disease.”
A small boy climbed up and perched on the
wooden gate, swinging it back and forth. “Where
are you gonna take them?”
Makareti smiled. “Eventually, they’ll be going
up there.” She nodded to a point in the dimming
eastern sky. Little winking lights formed a
constellation, too regular to be anything but
manmade.
“The Shipyards?” the woman said. “You’re
going to send sheep up there?”
“Space sheep!” the boy said, staring upwards.
“Cool!”
“We’re collecting genetic material from all the
old breeds of farm animals in New Zealand,” the
Professor said. “Arapawa and Cheviot sheep,
Kunekune and Auckland Island pigs, seaweedeating
Enderby Island cattle and rabbits and many
more. They’ll all be producing frozen embryos to
go on the generation ships. No-one can know for
sure what sort of conditions the colonists will
encounter when they reach a new world, so we
want to have the broadest possible range of genetic
material available to them. And some of the
livestock will be living alongside the settlers as they
travel. It turns out goats and sheep actually adapt
very well to a low gravity environment.”
Tama helped Davey lift the ramp back up on
the truck.
“I think you’ve got something in your hair,”
Davey said. He watched Tama with some
amusement as the boy picked out a piece of sheep
dung. Tama hastily checked to see if Angie had
noticed, but she was talking to the kids.
“The things we do for love, eh?” Davey said.
“For science,” Tama said firmly, trying not to
blush. “The things we do for science.”
Davey laughed and walked off, calling to his
dogs.
Tama followed him, picking bits of vegetation off
himself. A yellow slit eye was studying him from
between the slats of the truck. He rubbed the back of
his head, sure he could feel a hoof print.
“In three generations you little devils will probably
be flying the ship,” he said to the ram. From inside
the truck there came a bleat that sounded
suspiciously like a laugh. ◊