She felt like a blue-ribbon heifer. Best of breed. She found out that she couldn't eat very much.
"Food," an old man said with concern, pointing at her plate. He apparently knew less English than the rest. "Food," he repeated insistently, making the motions of eating.
"No," Ivy said. She rose up suddenly and shook her head. "I don't want any." If they wanted her to eat, maybe she'd better not eat.
Maybe there was something in the food—
They looked her over thoroughly as she stood before them, grinning horribly. They were not too concerned that she did not eat. Later, if necessary, they would come back with vials and needles.
The three men rose. One of them motioned the others to leave. They bowed and walked out, looking back over their shoulders to grin.
She faced the old man across the low wooden table.
"It is perhaps time that you learn why you are here," the old man said quietly. His English was perfect. His face was detached, unsmiling.
She waited.
"You are to be used for breeding," the old man said.