Helmut Muller, retired farmer, aged 67, sopped up the last of the yolk from his plate with his last triangle of toast, just as he had done every morning since his retirement, rinsed his dirty dishes, set them in the rack, poured himself a cup of coffee, then joined his wife, Edna, at the picnic table on the rear patio. A dry, cool breeze was blowing in from the west; high, thin cloud streaked the pale blue sky, giving it a greyish cast. The hay fields surrounding the old farmhouse undulated in the wild, untamed