Chapter Sixteen: At The Stables

Joey stepped down from the truck, his boots skidding off the worn running board. One of these days I need to replace that, he chided himself as he regained his balance.

Walking toward the offices of Kyner Stables he gave the operation a visual inspection. His practiced eye liked what he saw. The four outbuildings seemed to be in good repair. The various personnel in his immediate view were well-groomed and were working hard at various tasks, always a good sign in Joey's mind.

A number of horses were being put through their paces on the track while others were being exercised in the three smaller paddocks. The fence surrounding the nearest paddock felt solid to his touch and all the fences appeared to have been freshly painted. The entire operation seemed imbued with an air of competency and purpose. So far I think I've made the right choice he thought as he entered the office.

Minutes later Joey was sitting in front of a well polished mahogany desk, a mug of coffee placed carefully to his right. A stand with several pipes adorned one corner the ashtray built in, with only a two-line telephone, a maroon leather cup filled with old-fashioned ink pens and a small pile of papers to keep them company. Directly across the three and a half foot expanse sat the manager of the stable, Mr. Dirks.

Dirks set his tea down on a pink sandstone coaster, the cup fitting perfectly into an dark ring where previous cups of Oolong had deposited their condensation. With a small "humph" he cleared his throat and began to address Joey in a voice rich and dark like fine wine.

"Mr. Geryon," he said enunciating carefully. "As you have requested we have our best available trainer and rider under contract for your two ponies and we will do our best to have your entries ready in time for the Chiron Cup races. But I would be remiss in my duties to you and this stable I did not advise you that you have set a difficult challenge before us."

"Mr. Dirks," Joey responded unconsciously trying to match the manager's plummy inflection. "I came to Kyner Stables because of your reputation for meeting the tough goals. Is there somewhere else I should have gone?"

"Mr. Geryon, I want you to fully understand the extent of the task we have accepted on your behalf. If any stable can help you to achieve your desired result under these conditions, it is Kyner Stables." said Dirks, his old school accent ever so slightly tinged with an undertone of asperity. "This office speaks for itself in that regard."

Joey took a moment to examine his surroundings. Three glass-fronted cases filled with trophies of all shapes, sizes and hues stood against one wood-paneled wall. Two other walls were speckled with photographs of human equines. Some showed the horses in action, their bodies straining against taut harnesses, their feet kicking small clods of dirt back toward their drivers. Others were taken in the winner's circle, wreaths around the horse's neck, their drivers drinking sparkling wine from many of the same trophies now showcased in the office. Framed clippings from newspapers and magazines detailing the triumphs and victories enjoyed by the stable and its charges completed the collage.

"Mr. Dirks. I don't doubt the ability of you or your people at all. " Joey stated apologetically. "I brought my ponies here precisely because of your past accomplishments. This is all new to me. I'm a cattle rancher, not a horse breeder or racer. Winning the Chiron Cup with these two ponies is important to me. Please don't mistake my nervousness for disrespect. You're the best and I know it. I'm grateful to you for taking this job on such short notice."

Dirks nodded his head in acknowledgment, his thinning hair revealing the beginning of a monk's tonsure on its crown.

"Thank you. As I was saying, our preliminary evaluations indicate your second pony, Linda Sue, is in excellent condition. However, your lead pony, Terri, is not. We will have a fuller idea of what needs to be done once they reach the stables. At this time we believe we are going to have to work her hard and fast to have her ready on race day. This will not be any holiday at the shore for her."

Joey laughed loudly. "That's exactly what I told her before she signed the authorization covenant. She knows what she's in for. Told me she wanted to be, and I quote, '...just another farm animal forced to do whatever her master wanted.' "

"I am not sure she really knew what she was getting into but I promise you, we will have her tight on Cup Day."

Joey gave the manager a quizzical look, one eyebrow raised in inquiry. "Tight?"

"Forgive me Mr. Geryon, tight is simply another way of saying ready to race. We all fall prey to the habit of using the distinctive terminology of our professions while forgetting that others may not be as familiar as we ourselves are. Since this is your first time out as an owner some of these terms will be new to you. But if you decided to continue your involvement with us past these races, you'll get to know the nomenclature without any difficulty.

"To continue, I have assigned Bevan Vass as her trainer and Cort Szeman as her driver. Mr. Vass is our best trainer. Mr. Szeman is one of our top young drivers with a bright future before him. I could have designated one of our more experienced drivers but I think Mr. Szeman is the perfect match for your ponies."

"I trust your judgment in these matters."

"I can assure you, Mr. Geryon, that your confidence is not misplaced. Now there are just a few matters that I need to review with you."

"Such as?"

"You have requested that your ponies be treated in all possible respects as equine and not as human. But there are some areas where we will have to handle them in a different manner. As an example, all our permanent stock are given a laryngectomy to prevent them from speaking. Since your entries will regain their human status after the races, we will not be doing this.

"However, their being able to speak around our other animals would cause some difficulties we would prefer to avoid. With your permission, we will be giving your ponies a series of special injections that will deaden their vocal cords. I promise you these injections will not hurt them and they will be timed to wear off a day or so after the races."

"Go ahead, that won't be a problem."

"Now there is the issue of which races to run in? We have already entered your ponies in all the fledgling condition races they are eligible for. The week before the meet we will adjust their entries to match their capabilities. At that point we will have a better idea of the maximal schedule they will need to run to win the Cup.

"A side consideration is whether or not you want these ponies returned to you after the races. Depending on how these ponies take to the tack, I might be able to put one or both of them in a claiming race on Cup Day."

"I'm sorry to keep interrupting Mr. Dirks but I'm not sure what a claiming race is."

Dirks smiled. "In a claiming race, you enter your horse into the race at a price that we will help you determine. Then, regardless of how your horse performs, another owner can 'claim' or buy your horse for that price. You would get to keep all the winnings and trophies while the horse goes to a new stable.

"Claiming races are the racing industry's way of keeping horses of similar abilities running against each other. If you enter a horse against inferior competition it will wind up being sold for less than it is worth. If you enter it in a race where the competition is too keen for your horse's ability you will not win any purses. This arrangement keeps things even and makes for more interesting races."

"I'm a little confused here," said Joey. "Both Linda Sue and Terri are entered in the fledgling company. Doesn't the authorization covenant contain a guarantee that they'll return to their previous status as people once the races are over?"

The manager spoke in an avuncular manner as his thick fingers toyed with a pen, snapping its metal cup on and off with a series of sharp clicks.

"It is really not as much of a guarantee of regained stature as it is an assurance that they will not undergo an involuntary conversion. We have actually found that a number of these 'fledglings' opt for a permanent transformation, particularly if they've enjoyed some success at the track.

"Because they are fledglings they would, of course, be placed in the claiming race on a provisional basis subject to their new owner being able to get them to sign a consensual conversion certificate. If they do sign such a certificate they move to the new stable, if they do not sign they go home. Either way you still would get to keep the claiming price."

"Sorry Mr. Dirks but I've other plans for both these ponies. As tempting as it is I'm going to pass on the claiming race."

"Certainly, that is your choice to make. I merely wanted to inform you of all of the possibilities. If it is not being too invasive of your privacy, might I inquire if your future plans for these ponies include another form of conversion, one more in line with your chosen occupation?"

Joey sat in silence, a Cheshire cat grin playing about his lips.

"I understand, discretion is a virtue," said Dirks sagely. "Still, should your ponies at some time undergo a more lasting metamorphosis, I would be most appreciative of an opportunity to enjoy the results of such an occurrence."

A look passed between them like the silent exchange of two stockbrokers running up the price of a penny stock. Joey gave the manager a discerning nod.

"Well, Mr. Geryon. We have covered my brief agenda. Perhaps you have some matters you wish to discuss?"

Joey leaned away from the desk to take a sip of his coffee. A small grimace passed over his face as the now tepid beverage crossed his tongue. Always alert to the nuances of his clients, the manager picked up his phone and asked for a fresh cup of coffee to be brought in for Joey.

"Thanks Mr. Dirks. As a farm kid you'd think I'd be used to drinking cold coffee by now. No matter how hot it is when you start a chore, it's always lukewarm by the time you finish. Maybe that's why I don't like to drink it cold when I don't have to.

"I do have a couple of things I wanted to ask you about as well as a special request."

"Please feel free. I am sure that we will be able to accommodate you."

"I'd like to take a tour of the grounds before I leave, just to get a better feel for the place."

"Of course. Once we are done here I will see if Jemma is free. I am sure that she will be more than happy to escort you on your visit. How else can I be of service?"

Their discussion was briefly interrupted as Joey was served a new mug of coffee, the steam rising lazily from its inky surface. Joey blew slowly on the hot brew before taking a cautious sip.

"I'd like my entries to wear a specific set of colours."

"That will be no problem. If you would like to tell me what they are..."

Joey reached into his shirt pocket. "I have a sample right here...."

"Very good. You do not need to show them to me. Simply leave your sample with Mrs. Higgins on the way out, she will see to the necessary tailoring."

"Thanks," said Joey putting the fabric back into his pocket. "Look, I want to let you know that I won't be in your hair. We occasionally do conversions for people. Special orders type of stuff where they've bought at auction or found a stray or even have a family member who's fallen out of favour they want transformed. We don't do a lot of these but every once in awhile we dip our toes into that line of work.

"Anyway, I hate it when these clueless customers who think they know what they are doing come to the farm and make idiotic suggestions. I won't do that to you. My ponies are in your hands and I'm not going to be hanging around. I still have a cattle ranch to help run. But I would appreciate getting progress reports on a regular basis."

" I see no problem there. And you are always welcome to visit your ponies. We only ask that you call first to allow us to make the proper arrangements. Now, Mr. Geryon, if there are no further matters," Dirks said rising from his chair.

"I'm sorry Mr. Dirks, there is one other thing, although I'm embarrassed to bring it up."

Dirks sat back in his chair wondering what could possibly embarrass the young cattle farmer. The lad had already indicated that he was content to allow the stables to function as his agent without his hands on intervention so it was unlikely that he wanted to do something as unwise as drive his own ponies. All of the training, stabling and entry fees had been paid so it would not be about money. Unless he expected some sort of "kickback" of the fees. But the client investigation had shown that the Geryons, both father and son, were considered to be honest and above board in their dealings. If it had been otherwise, Kyner Stables would have passed on their trade. If it was otherwise they still would. This should prove to be intriguing.

"Mr. Geryon, I assure you that there is nothing to be embarrassed about. We are here to serve your needs to the fullest extent possible."

"It's about breeding my ponies."

The manager's left eyebrow went up like a furry caterpillar inching forward on a leaf. "Am I to understand that you want us to have your ponies bred while they are in residence at the stables? Are you looking to bring them to foal? We may be able to arrange that for you, even under the restrictions placed upon us by the covenant. There are a number of fine blood lines currently stabled here or we could go outside of Kyner and order sperm for use with artificial insemination. This would be a different matter than preparing them to race and we would have to readjust your fees. But if that is your desire..." he said his voice trailing off to await a response from the squirming youngster.

"No, no, no. I don't want them to get pregnant while they're here. That's not what I mean," said Joey. "Maybe it would help if I were more explicit?"

"Perhaps it would at that," said the manager, a small smile playing along the edges of this mouth.

"These two ponies are "hot to trot" and I don't mean on the race track." Joey noticed Dirks wincing at the word play. "Sorry, but I was raised on a diet of the Marx Brothers. Both Linda Sue and Terri are extremely sexual individuals. They're used to having sex almost every day and some days more than once. It's almost a case of 'they've gotta have it.' When we convert a human to animal status, one of the techniques we use is sex. The sexual satisfaction of the animal becomes a reward for proper behaviour. Do the right thing, act in the proper manner and you can come. We also use sex to break down their mental processes. When they have to service humans whether they want to or not, it helps to reenforce the fact that they aren't human any more; they're only livestock and subject to the whims of their masters. Of course, there's much more to it than that. Drugs play a major role in conversions along with other procedures. But then you probably know all of this already because I imagine you're conversion process is similar."

The manager spread his hands upwards and out in a sign to continue.

"I just wanted to let you know that it's OK to use the reward of sex as a motivational tool with both Linda Sue and Terri. Lord knows they've both used it often enough on men. It would be nice to see the tables turned on them for a change. I wouldn't want them forced into having sex; we're not looking for a permanent conversion here. But letting them have an orgasm or two as an incentive for extra effort. I think that's a good way to go. Aahh, here I am giving you advice just like those clients of ours I complain about. Mr. Dirks, I'm not trying to tell you what to do. I'm really not. I just wanted to let you know that I wouldn't have any problem if they got laid as a reward for a good performance."

A smile stretched the manager's face like a rubber band. "Mr. Geryon, please do not concern yourself about this matter. I am glad that you brought it up and I want to assure you that I do value your counsel. You know your ponies better than anyone here and I can assure you that both Mr. Vass and Mr. Szeman will benefit from what you have told me today. There's only one more particular that needs to be attended to and then you can start your tour of the stables. Where should we pick up your ponies tomorrow?"