Primal Estate: The Candidate Species (36 page)

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Authors: Samuel Franklin

BOOK: Primal Estate: The Candidate Species
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“When we first introduced wheat, we were so concerned that your early ancestors would recognize the pattern of poor health that followed. We went to great lengths to conceal it. Now we’ve more recently made this grain pervasive across your planet and chronic illness has never been worse. It’s staring you in the face and you still cannot see it. Your imbecilic performance in that regard is only surpassed by your methods of treating your ailments. You take symptoms to be causes, you purposefully disrupt your body’s natural defense strategies with unnatural chemical intrusions, and you spend fortunes researching how you can intervene in the actions of genes when you fail to allow them to act as they naturally should in the first place. You people are idiots. You are making your planet a hospital ward of poisoned zombies.
“We start with the food pyramid. That will have to change. Nutrient-dense, whole foods only, eliminating wheat and limited in carbohydrates. Then we’ll start with those who are on prescription medications. We’ll use fines through your government-controlled insurance system to force people to change their diets, and we’ll mandate tests to ascertain compliance. Once consumers create the correct, natural intestinal environment with inflammation reduced, the body’s endocrine and digestive systems will begin working normally. Without wheat’s proteins and starches making your membranes as permeable as a sieve, cellular tight junctions will normalize. There will be less need for antibiotics, psychotropic drugs, anti-inflammatories, and pain medications. Most of your autoimmune conditions will cease to appear, and most will resolve.
“Announcements will be made that the following drugs are ineffective and dangerous: statins, antidepressants, proton pump inhibitors, antipsychotics. With government-mandated compliance to the revised food pyramid confirmed through your health care system, none of them will be necessary anyway.”
Rick saw Jogger’s hand go up. “Mr. Synster, sir, uh, the food pyramid is with the Department of Agriculture. We’re with the Department of Health.”
“Really?” Synster was surprised. “So the people who grow the food are the ones putting out information on what people should eat?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, that explains a lot!” Synster considered the issue for a moment. “Come out with your own food pyramid. I’ll give you the information as to what it will be.”
Another hand went up from a sheepish supplicant. Hangover asked, “How will we justify these recommendations?” The rest on the couch rolled their eyes at their associate’s stupidity. Synster didn’t care about justification, they thought.
To their surprise Synster replied, “The justification is in your own research literature. Perhaps you should read it? David Thompson,” Synster diverted his gaze as he spoke.
David almost popped out of his chair.
Synster continued, “Our sampling of gall bladders that you’ve provided from
cholecystectomies has been largely unsuccessful. They are too diseased for us to use. Our quality control will apparently require fresh gall bladders. So we’ll need to change our strategy. You people already advocate against dietary fat. You claim it is the culprit of many health problems. Since the gall bladder is a vital organ for the digestion of fats, you will represent that its removal aids in the passing of consumed fat without digestion. Explain that this will aid in the reduction of absorbed fat as well as a decrease in blood cholesterol. If your people believed the lipid hypothesis in spite of what your research says, they’ll believe this.
“As a requirement for the maintenance of their health insurance at its current cost, all individuals with a body mass index of twenty-five or over must schedule to have their gall bladders removed. They will be fined if they don’t get it done.”
Suit slowly raised his hand.
“What?” Synster asked.
“We’re not allowed to fine them, by law,” he said.
“We could call it a tax,” suggested Pink Slippers. “A tax for keeping their gall bladders. Everybody crosses state lines. It’s a matter of interstate commerce.”
They all nodded their heads, agreeing that would probably work.
Synster continued, “With laparoscopic methods on an otherwise asymptomatic person, the surgery should be minimally invasive. The gall bladders will be collected by your government under the auspices of a study and delivered to us. David, you know the method.”
David nodded, and all four on the couch stared at him in amazement.
“Use this program of gall bladder removal as an argument for the cessation of statin drug use. They won’t need the cholesterol control if they aren’t digesting it. I have data here.” Synster produced four thick white binders from the case he’d arrived with. “They contain defensible statistics and conclusions from your own studies interpreted in a manner that the argument can be made that experts agree: various health benefits will result from these removals in ninety-two percent of the cases surveyed, eighty-seven percent of the time. Copy it, and get it out to your people.”
He gave them to Suit. “Your mission instructions are also enclosed.”
Then Synster addressed the group. “I will need from you a weekly list of names of all patients controlled under the government program. From what I understand, that should be everyone under United States jurisdiction, give or take a few holdouts. As your work proceeds, I will need updates as to who is clear of their prescription drugs and what their body mass index is. The list should be ordered with the highest body mass index cleared of drugs at the top, to the lowest body mass index not clear of drugs at the bottom. I’ll need addresses for each name.
“We have programmed your tags to inflict level 3 pain for one hour every night at midnight starting one week from today if certain stages of your work are not complete. Your goals with their timelines are included in your instructions. Study them. You will be held accountable.
“You should not try to amputate your arm in an effort to modify our relationship. The tags have recently been adjusted to sense this and notify us immediately, at which time you and your families will be transported to our ship and you will be dealt with according to the manner already prescribed.
“Forget about your current career. It’s obviously the most important thing to you, seeing that you apparently haven’t let poor job performance get in your way. Your career as you know it is over. You now work for me. You will until you die. Your lives are now merely a struggle to avoid agonizing pain and the total destruction of your lives and families. As a benefit, you will be contacted for a list of those close to you who will be exempt from the harvest. As a reminder, this is pain level two.”
Synster touched his gauntlet and immediately their bodies seized in place. They were unable to speak, groan, or move. They began to look a little red and stiff, but otherwise gave no indication of anything wrong. Synster released them.
“Levels two and three have been specially formulated so that it won’t be obvious to anyone around you that there is anything wrong. I gave you ten seconds. If you haven’t reached your goals, I suggest you go to bed before midnight. Remember your pain will be for one hour at level three. This is something you will all want to avoid. A few sessions an hour long and you run the risk of permanent insanity.
“When you get home, you are likely to believe that all this was just a bad dream. Included in your instructions is contact information for Rick, here,” Synster said, gesturing to Rick, “to confirm the veracity of our new relationship. Remember that you may tell no one and only deal with each other. If you decide to commit suicide, your immediate and extended families will be punished as already prescribed.”
With that, all five of the visitors dissolved in a hazy white light. Rick and Synster were alone. “Rick, I’ve got special assignments for you. We need to manipulate certain political situations, and I want you to assassinate a couple people for me. If you get captured, you can signal us and we’ll have to terminate everyone in the group that has taken you. So if you care about that, don’t let it happen. The targets are two leaders of consumer advocate groups. We want to make it look like a specific corporation was behind the murders, and we don’t want our Provenger to risk it. The situation is fluid.”
There was a pause. “Okay, who are they?” Rick asked, wondering how or if he’d be able to squirm out of this.
“I’ll let you know when it’s necessary. You’ll get all the information and equipment you need. There is another, unrelated assassination; this one more important. I suggest you start sighting in your best rifle for about three to three hundred, fifty yards. You cannot miss. This is very important.” Synster grabbed the case he’d come with and was about to leave.
“Synster, there is something.”
“What is it?”
“I need some things. I want my guns, the ones you destroyed. I want replacements. There are some other things. I made a list.” Rick took the list out of his pocket and handed it to Synster, who took it.
“I’ll look into it. Anything else?”
“No, that’s all,” Rick said and stepped back. And Synster was gone.
Rick looked at the wet side of his couch and checked his watch. Carson and Shainan would be home in an hour.
After cleaning the urine off the leather as best he could and throwing a towel over it, he stretched out and closed his eyes, glad to have survived one more encounter with Synster.
Exactly one hour later, Rick woke to the sound of barking and keys at the front door. He sat up and rubbed his face. His vision and brain were clearing as Carson and Shainan walked into the living room. They were laughing and sounded like they’d had a good time. Shainan had been making progress with her English. With a combination of sign and simple words, they had started developing a relationship. She seemed a part of the family now.
Sitting on the couch, Rick stared in front of him. In the center of the living room floor, there were three crates about the size of the ones he put his dogs in. If Synster had given him what he’d asked for, each one would be filled with weapons and ammunition, cash in twenties, fifties, and hundreds, and one-ounce gold coins. By Rick’s rough estimate, between the gold and the cash, he had anywhere from one hundred to two hundred million dollars sitting in front of him; then again, maybe double that. He wasn’t sure. It’s a good thing this is a slab floor, he thought, otherwise the crate full of gold might fall right through. Rick now had the resources to hire an army, arm it, and even gild it should he choose. The way Rick saw it, if he could get stuff, get stuff big.
“Carson!” Rick yelled. “Get the tractor, we’ve got some digging to do! No…wait. Let the dogs in and pull the Charger out front. We’re going to town.” Rick felt like dinner and shopping. They could risk an evening out with Shainan. He was doing things his way from now on.
Chapter 27
Yootu aRRives home
Nwella arrived at Rick’s home one evening without notice. She appeared out of a sphere of milky white light in the center of his living room. He was at the dinner table in the middle of Shainan’s English lesson when it happened. Shainan was horror struck while leaping for a kitchen knife, then throwing herself to the floor with her back to the corner. She held the knife pointed in Nwella’s direction as though she could see through the cabinets that blocked her view.
Rick was very glad to see Nwella, but she was all business. She ignored Shainan and informed him that another human would be joining them.
“His name is Yootu,” she said, “and he is being released from captivity on the Provenger Ship. He has been our guest for the last ten years and our only way to dispose of him is to free him. By law, we are required to return such guests to their home, their spouse, their family, or to a comparable situation. Shainan is part of his tribe.” Nwella had become jealous of Shainan living with Rick. “They should probably be married,” she added at great personal risk of revealing her motives. “No other location but this one will serve that purpose.
“You will be responsible for Yootu. He has recently sustained an injury. He’s been examined and appears to be physically intact, but he may have some psychological issues. He may be dangerous, and you must be cautious with him. Our tests reveal that he is rational and likely not an imminent danger to fellow humans. He has been given the same out-brief as Shainan and should maintain the same dietary restrictions due to his vaccinations. Once we have turned him over, you have complete authority to dispose of him as needed, but we are absolved of all responsibility.”
Rick acknowledged that he understood. He wanted to speak to Nwella of other things, but he could see with an almost imperceptible shake of her head and the look in her eyes that she would not have it. She looked nervous. They must be watching, Rick thought. Nwella dissolved in the same sphere of milky white.
A few seconds later another sphere appeared, and there were two huge Provenger clad with armor and knives fully deployed on their left and right gauntlets. They were holding a man between them. They dropped him and he crumpled in a pile on the floor in front of them. They left as they came. There was a long silence. Shainan still cowered in the kitchen behind the cabinets.

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