Primal Estate: The Candidate Species by Samuel Franklin

offered a better mix. Now he seemed to be looking over his shoulder a lot.
Monday had been like any other, except for one thing. A transmission came in that was very strange. He’d seen it before when space garbage slowly passed between an orbiting satellite and the terrestrial radio telescope receiving its signal. The data signal had the look of something passing in front of the satellite. Rick checked all other sources to see if a spy satellite or something else he wasn’t aware of was in that area, and he found nothing. As a test and a precaution, he’d programmed signals to run all night long to that satellite and others along a predicted trajectory to check if he could capture a similar signature. He knew the chances he would see the phenomenon again were slim, but he wanted to try.

This morning he would take a look at the results. He doubted he’d discovered anything, but it had been bugging him all night. Rick spent all morning checking the results of the program he’d filed, but found nothing. He knew it wasn’t nothing. Something is never nothing. He was smart enough to know that.
After four hours Tuesday morning, he’d had enough and decided to spend his lunch hour seeding his land. It was only a ten-minute drive and he arrived in a contemplative state. His mind was still working on that phenomenon.

Rick unloaded his push spreader and half the bags of seed. It was too late in the year to do this and he knew it, but he’d been busy completing a big project. He already had the seed, so he’d try to make it work since it had been an unusually warm autumn.
The seed needed time to sprout before it got killed by frost and, chances were, it would be killed. He’d get some exercise and see. The ten acres that were clear enough for him to spread seed had been an alfalfa field once, and the rest of the land was covered with the typical scrub juniper and pinion pine. The rest of the plot ran down to a ravine which ended on the edge of a canyon. It was a great hunting area, full of jackrabbits and coyote in addition to the deer and elk. But aside from taking a few jackrabbit every once in a while, Rick reserved his hunting there mostly to big game. Unless he was going to put a hundred pounds of meat in the freezer, he didn’t want to heat up the area.

Rick spent about an hour walking his land, spreading the seed, knowing it would probably come to nothing. He packed up his truck and headed back toward town. Driving over the next hill, he was immediately confronted by an SUV pulled over on the other side of the road. A man was changing his tire and Rick figured he’d stop to help. He unconsciously unzipped his jacket, giving him easier access to his sidearm, as he pulled to the SUV’s side of the road, nosed in to its front grill. He left the truck running, unplugged his cell phone from the charger, punched in the password to activate it, and put it in his pocket. He stepped out the door, leaving it open. The man looked up from his work on the front left tire. “How ya doin’?” Rick greeted him, thinking he might be a nearby land owner.
“Oh, could be better,” said the stranger as he crouched to pick up the spare.

Rick checked out the vehicle as he approached. He idly pressed his hand onto the front left quarter panel. It was this year’s model SUV Cadillac. He didn’t see many of these around.
Rick thought it strange the man didn’t stand to offer his hand for a shake. “Need any help?”

“Nah, making pretty good progress,” he said as he picked up the spare and wrestled it in place.
“Nice truck,” commented Rick.

“Thanks. Runs okay when it’s got four tires,” he responded while wrestling the tire into place.
“Do you have land down this way by any chance?” Rick examined the man. He was about mid to late thirties, well dressed, black hair. He was kneeling but he looked tall. He smelled of money. Well-funded.

“No, I’m just out for a drive,” the man said as he looked up at Rick and