He looked at the calves.
Then at the teenage farmer.
“You bought these?”
“Yes.”
“All ninety?”
“Yes.”
“For how much?”
“Seven dollars.”
The veterinarian stared for one second.
Then shook his head.
“Of course.”
The dealer smiled.
“Here to put them out of their misery?”
The veterinarian did not answer.
He stepped toward the nearest calf.
The animal backed away.
The girl moved slowly beside it.
“Easy.”
The calf stopped.
The veterinarian crouched.
Looked at the colored ear tag.
His expression changed.
He touched it.
Then pulled the scanner from his pocket.
Beep.
He checked the screen.
Then another calf.
Beep.
Another.
Beep.
The girl watched.
“What?”
The veterinarian said nothing.
He moved to a fourth.
Then fifth.
The cattle dealer’s smile faded.
“What are you doing?”
The veterinarian finally looked toward him.
“Where did this lot come from?”
The dealer shrugged.
“Northside contract calves.”
“Which operation?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re the receiving dealer.”
“Bankruptcy transfer.”
“Paperwork’s inside.”
The veterinarian turned toward the auction office.
Then stopped.
He looked at the girl.
“Do not move these calves into contact with any other cattle.”
“I have an isolation pasture.”
“How isolated?”
“Separate water.”
“Separate fence.”
“Service lane between.”
“Good.”
The dealer scoffed.
“They’re already sick.”
The veterinarian scanned another tag.
“No.”
The dealer laughed.
“You deaf?”
The veterinarian stood.
“They’re coughing.”
“Yes.”
“That does not tell me what they have.”
He held up the scanner.
“These tags are from a university respiratory vaccine field trial.”
The men along the fence stopped laughing.
The girl looked down at the nearest calf.
“What trial?”
The veterinarian’s eyes remained on the scanner.
“Updated bovine respiratory vaccine.”
“When?”
“I need the records.”
“How do you know?”
“These tag codes.”
He pointed.
“Trial group identification.”
The cattle dealer stepped closer.
“So?”
The veterinarian scanned another animal.
“Same cohort.”
Then another.
“Same.”
He looked across the pen.
“If these are the calves I think they are, every animal in this lot received two monitored doses against the respiratory strain the state lab confirmed in this county this morning.”
Silence.
The teenage farmer stared at him.
“What strain?”
The veterinarian looked toward the crowd.
That answer was no longer just for her.
“An aggressive respiratory fever syndrome has been confirmed thirty miles north.”