Kate had barely enough time to see that several of the chairs were occupied before a small form impacted her legs with such force she almost went over backward. Kate! Kate! Kate!

Katya! She scooped up the four-year-old and tossed her in the air.

Katya laughed her delightful chuckling laugh. Do it again!

Kate did it again and then set her down with a grunt. You‘re getting too big for shot put, girlfriend.

Katya was promptly attacked by Mutt, who used her nose to roll Katya around the room. Katya giggled some more, and squealed when her South ParkT-shirt rode up and Mutt‘s wet nose pressed against her bare back.

Kate smiled at Dinah. Hey. The brat okay?

Dinah, a wispy, blue-eyed blonde, Bobby Clark‘s wife, Katya‘s mother, and a practicing videographer, looked up from Timemagazine‘s special report edition on the death of Diana, Princess of Wales, to smile and shake her head. She needed her polio booster.

Where‘s Bobby?

On the air.

Oh yeah? What frequency?

Dinah shrugged. You know it changes every day.

I know.

Eknaty Kvasnikof was there, elbow resting on the arm of his chair, holding a hand wrapped in a bloody piece of cloth straight up. He nodded. Kate.

Natty. She nodded at his hand and raised her eyebrows.

He grimaced. Working on the engine. Trying to work a bolt loose. He shook his head.

He looked tired, and there was an anxious crease in his forehead. A recent graduate of Niniltna High, Eknaty was skippering the family drifter for the first time this summer. He was the oldest, there were five younger sisters and brothers back home, and a father with lung cancer.

Kate thought for a moment, while Mutt stepped up and pushed her nose beneath Natty‘s hand. He rubbed her ears, a faint smile lightening his features. Would Willard be any use to you, Natty? Kate said.

Natty looked up. Jesus, Kate. It was all he said, but it was heartfelt. She nodded. He‘s up the post. Tell Maggie I said to release him into your custody. You have to keep him working, you understand? You can‘t let him stray off on his own, you‘ve got to keep tabs on him.

Natty looked uncertain. What about when the job‘s done?

We‘ll worry about that then. Shouldn‘t be a problem so long as you keep him in cookies and candy bars. Keep him busy and out of trouble, and he‘ll keep your engine purring like a cat on overtime. Her hand rested on his shoulder for a brief moment. She turned to the woman sitting a few chairs down. Ulanie. Ulanie Anahonak was a thin, tense woman with scant dark hair, a sallow complexion, and a gaze so intense Kate had often wondered if she were myopic. Kate, she said, and turned back to leafing through an issue of Ladies‘ Home Journalwith Nancy Reagan on the cover.

The door to the clinic opened and Matt Grosdidier‘s voice was heard. If you‘d come here right away, Phyllis, right when you knew—