Daphne glanced at her empty café and checked the time. Yet another nonexistent lunch rush. She’d only had a couple of customers come in for breakfast, and absolutely not another soul had stepped in the rest of the day. Except the mailman, but only to deliver her mail, look at her like she were a leper, and leave before anything could rub off on him. Her business and her dreams were dying a slow death right before her eyes.
Without thinking, she got off her stool a little too quickly. A searing pain spiked through her hip joint and down her leg, forcing her to grab hold of the counter to keep from falling. It had been getting worse every day. Pretty much the exact opposite of when she’d broken her foot some years back and, after the initial stages, could feel the pain lessen a notch each day until one day it was gone. She’d quit exercising entirely weeks ago and couldn’t hold even the least demanding yoga postures anymore.
She gritted her teeth and limped to the front of the café, flipped the sign to CLOSED, and locked the door in the unlikely event someone bothered to come by. Time to face some reality. She went into her cramped office behind the kitchen, eased her pain-racked body down into her chair, and opened her business checkbook. The balance was pathetic. She glanced at the stack of unpaid bills that she kept in the top right drawer. Clearly a mismatch involved.
As she wondered how much longer she could go before falling behind on her bills, her cell rang. The caller ID showed the call was from Mayo. She hesitated, then took a deep breath and answered it.
“Ms. Mercer, this is Dr. Lowell Adams from Mayo.”
“Yes?”
“We’ve received your lab results. Is this a good time to talk?”
“Sure.” Why not? Make my day. For some reason, she didn’t think it would be news worth celebrating.
“Ms. Mercer, the results are consistent with those your primary care provider reported to us from your previous tests. Normal blood chemistries, but for someone much older than you.”
“Yeah.” She closed her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose.
“We also received the results for the tissue sample we took. They were … unusual.”
Daphne rubbed at the spot on her thigh where they’d taken a punch biopsy of her muscle tissue. She’d forgotten about it until now, even though it hadn’t been healing as quickly as it should. It was probably all in her head, but the site had just begun to throb.
“Unusual?” Daphne could feel something twitching in the pit of her stomach. Unusual is not the word you want to hear when the doctor calls with lab results.
“As I’m sure you know, protein is made up of amino acids, which in turn are assembled in a specific way from various molecules. In your muscle tissue, you have an unusual form of the amino acid valine. It’s the mirror image of what it should be.”
Daphne had trouble catching her breath. “So what does that mean?”
“I wish I could say for sure. We haven’t seen anything like this before—I checked. But given how protein synthesis works, we’re thinking it’s causing you to age prematurely. When the faulty valine is metabolized in your body, the resulting tissue proteins lack structural integrity. We think this is why you’re experiencing the symptoms you are.”
“But what started this?”
“That’s even more of a mystery right now. There’s no way to be certain, but given how quickly your symptoms have progressed, this is likely not something that’s been present all your life. So something has either triggered your system to manufacture the faulty valine, or you’re ingesting something that is causing the valine to take this form.”
Daphne put her hand to her face and bowed her head. She didn’t know whether to scream or cry, but she didn’t want to do either while she was still on the phone. “But I’m so careful about what I eat. I don’t eat meat or animal products at all. I only eat fresh fruits and vegetables, with some soy products for protein and vitamin supplements for B-complex and iron.”
“Tell me more. The fruits and vegetables. Where do you get them? Any pesticides?”
“No. Only organic, pesticide-free.”
“What about the vitamins?”
“A known, national brand.”
Dr. Adams paused. “What about the soy products?”
“Mostly the Second Nature line, those frozen ones. I like their texture the best.”
“I’ll want to check into those. I’m pretty sure they’re made with GMO soy. Do you eat a lot of them?”
“Yeah, I do, actually. They’re pretty good, and I figure the soy provides a complete protein in place of meat.”
“It does, but right now I’m interested in anything that might explain how you’ve wound up with mirror-imaged valine molecules. Do you have any opened packages of it on hand?”
“Well, yes, I do.”
“I could get some at the store, but I don’t want to introduce any unknowns into the analysis. I’d like to run tests on samples you’ve actually eaten from, if I could. Can you bring your opened packages up to my office?”
“Yeah, I can do that.”
“As soon as you can, please. I’d like to start testing as quickly as possible.”
Daphne glanced at her watch. “I can still get up there today, if you like.”
“That would be great. I’ll alert the receptionist, so in case I’m with a patient, you won’t need to wait.”
“Thanks, bye.” Daphne ended the call and set down her cell. She took a deep breath and let it out as she slumped over her desk. She felt like she’d just fallen right down a rabbit hole.
CHAPTER 31
Vic Rayburn shook his head as he scrolled through the latest Internet news stories on the violence epidemic. He hoped his team would get to the bottom of it soon. People were becoming afraid to go out, businesses were shutting down, the economy was in havoc, and the problem had spread to other countries now. Crackpots were advancing their latest theories all over the Internet, which only stoked the fear factor.
He was glad he didn’t live far from his office. But summer would be over soon, and the shorter days of fall would take over. Vic didn’t feel all that safe himself after dark anymore. He set aside his gloomy thoughts and answered his phone.
“Hello, Vic? It’s Kyle. I’ve got it figured out, the whole thing.”
He leaned his elbows on his desk and gave Kyle his undivided attention. No one else working on the problem had found more than a small possible link here or there. Nothing cohesive. “Fill me in.”
Kyle told Vic what he’d learned about the defective valine in the soy-based feeds, what it was doing to livestock and livestock-based products, and how it worked to trigger B. metasonis to emit the serotonin-inhibiting chemical that caused all the other physical and behavioral changes. He explained his methodology and how he finally pieced it all together.
Vic pinched the bridge of his nose as he took in the information and tried to find flaws in Kyle’s methods or conclusions. “But wait. The defective valine has a different effect in animals than in humans?”
“Yes. Apparently when it’s ingested in plant protein form—as in the case of livestock consuming GMO soy-based feed—it results in defective tissue proteins that age prematurely, if you will. That applies to muscle and other bodily tissues as well as proteins produced by livestock, like milk, eggs, and cheese. But when it’s ingested in the form of animal protein from these sources, it sets up that trigger effect in the forty-seven percent of the population who harbor B. metasonis, resulting in the violent behavior. But even in those who have metasonis in their gut, no animal protein, no violent changes.”
“I see. Is this a problem only with soy that ends up in animal feed? What about soy products for human consumption?”
Kyle remained silent for a moment. “That’s a good question. I don’t know if this form of valine has appeared in those products. If it did, I’d expect a similar mechanism as I’ve found in livestock. But when livestock consume their feed, that’s their only source of valine. A human would have to get all or most
of his valine from soy products to experience the same effect. In such a case, I’d expect weakened protein structures, premature aging.”
Vic’s initial relief that the answer had at last been found quickly turned to growing alarm as he realized the full ramifications of what Kyle had told him. A terrible, terrible flaw had worked its way into the base of the food chain, and it had already led to an epidemic of unprecedented violence and an impending economic meltdown. He again struggled to find a flaw in Kyle’s analysis, and could not. Of course he would double-check everything, just to be sure, before formally releasing the information to the public. “What do you think can be done about it, Kyle?”
“I’m afraid there may not be much that can be done. Once the defective valine triggers metasonis to produce the chemical, it’s already too late. Once that switch is tripped, it stays tripped, and the effects on the brain are irreversible anyway. The only hope is that there may be some who harbor that bacteria who haven’t yet consumed animal products containing the faulty valine for whatever reason. We might have a small window of opportunity there. Probably very small.”
Vic ran a shaking hand through his hair. “My God.”
“That subpopulation would have to be identified and treated with a suitable antibiotic to eliminate metasonis from their guts before the mechanism could be tripped. I don’t know how the hell that could possibly be done in time, and I’m not sure such a subpopulation even exists at this point.”
“We could analyze the trajectory of new cases of violence. If the frequency of new incidents starts to taper off, it may mean that all those who will be affected, have been.”
“That makes sense. I suspect there’s likely no treatable subpopulation left to chase anyway. Also, we’ll need to get the USDA involved in this. Livestock deaths and problems with animal-based food products are their bailiwick, right?”
“Yes, but I’m sure they’ve never faced anything like this before.” Vic tried to steady his trembling hands. Kyle was right. The food chain was devastatingly broken. The only saving grace was that it apparently wasn’t a problem for those who didn’t harbor the specific bacteria, at least at this point. That was something, anyway. “I’m not even sure how you restore food safety—let alone public confidence—in the face of something like this.”
“I know. I’ve started trying to think that through, and it’s huge. Just huge. Even if you destroy all the defective soy meal and all the products it’s entered, you’d still have to ensure that any GMO soy crops going forward don’t contain the faulty valine. And you’d have to reestablish new lines of all the affected livestock: beef and dairy cattle, sheep, poultry, pigs.”
Vic took a deep breath as he tried to wrap his head around the magnitude of the problem. As difficult a job as finding the root cause had been, the search for the solution promised to be even worse. How do you tell the entire population that the food they eat had created a public health—and public safety—emergency of unprecedented scope?
“Excellent work, Kyle. I’ll need your written report ASAP so we can conduct an accelerated peer review before releasing the information to the public and the other agencies that need to know about it.”
Vic hung up the phone, then closed his eyes and put his head on his desk. In all his years with the EIS, his teams had unraveled some tough public health mysteries. But never anything this catastrophic.
CHAPTER 32
Marty Janssen pushed up from his crouched position and eased the painful kinks out of his knees and lower back. The paunch he’d developed after Ellen died didn’t help matters. Weary, he leaned against the side of the stall and stared down. Another dead cow. Same thing. That premature aging problem. Doc had told him the same as he’d told Paul: something about the protein structure being wrong. The feed he’d been using had caused it. Just what the hell was he supposed to do? Hay hadn’t even been an option this year. The soy-based feed, with its added vitamins and antibiotics, was the most cost-effective. But now, he’d learned, it was killing his animals.
He let out a long, exhausted sigh. He’d hoped to eke out a slim profit this year and stay afloat. Forget about that now. Soon he wouldn’t have a herd left at the rate he was going. Doc didn’t even know if there was any way to reverse the process and stop the losses. Marty didn’t know what to do. Maybe he’d talk to Paul later and see what he was thinking.
He decided to dispose of the carcass tomorrow. It’s not like the cow had died of anything contagious. He was just too worn out to bother right now. He left the barn and headed for the house, first stopping at Ellen’s grave.
As he gazed down at the late-season wildflowers surrounding her tombstone, a sudden wave of sorrow struck him, almost like a solid mass of pain. Maybe the flowers triggered it, with their tired, wilted blooms drooping, signaling the end of the growing season, the shortening of days. Maybe it was all too much. He wished Ellen were still with him. She’d always been his strength. But at the same time, he knew it would break her heart to see what was happening to her beloved farm. He turned away, the sense of loss overwhelming him. First Ellen, now the farm.
Marty stepped into the mud room, kicked off his work boots, and washed his hands and face. Then he poured himself a nice tall slug of bourbon and went into the living room to catch the news before dinner. He plopped himself down on the couch and clicked the remote.
“… for more on this breaking story, here is our science reporter, Ben Wheaton.”
Marty smirked. The guy looked like a science nerd, with his slicked-down hair, thick glasses, and dead-serious expression.
“Good evening. The CDC announced today that a special team has solved the mystery of the wave of violence that has been sweeping the world. It’s a great piece of investigation with far-reaching implications.”
Marty took another gulp of bourbon and turned up the volume.
“They found that those exhibiting the violent behavior all harbor a certain species of gut bacteria, B. metasonis. We all have various species of intestinal bacteria in different combinations. They help digest our food, and they also can influence mood and behavior because of the chemicals they emit. In this case, they’re emitting a chemical that suppresses serotonin, which normally regulates the effects of testosterone. So in those people affected, even normal levels of testosterone cause ultra-aggressive brain function patterns, and the change appears to be permanent once it happens.”
Marty leaned forward. Could this be what happened to Dustin?
“These particular bacteria emit that chemical only when they’re exposed to a malformed version of valine, an amino acid present in animal protein. The malformed valine has been traced to a widespread source of GMO soy protein used in animal feeds as well as soy-based meat substitutes.
“When this defective valine is consumed directly from plant-based sources, as it is by livestock, it becomes part of the protein structure, making it unstable. That’s why livestock are dying off from what appears to be premature old age, and why animal-protein products now have such a short shelf life.
“When the defective valine is consumed secondarily, as from consuming the meat or other by-products of these affected animals, the valine affects this particular gut bacteria and so triggers the chain of events leading to severe aggression. We’ll bring you more on this important story as additional information becomes available.
“Meanwhile, the CDC and the USDA advise that you do not consume any beef, dairy, poultry, or pork products. Also, do not eat any GMO-based soy-meat-substitute products. These products will be recalled immediately from grocery shelves and destroyed, and you should throw away any such items you have in your home. Back to you, Erin.”
The camera shifted back to the telegenic news anchor. The smile that usually graced her face had disappeared entirely.
“Thank you for that report, Ben. In related news, demand for wild-caught seafood has risen sharply, along with vegetables, beans, rice, and nuts. Not only have the prices risen, but shortages are anticipated due
to unprecedented demand. We’ll be your first news source when the CDC comes out with more detailed recommendations.”
Marty gaped at the television. How could he possibly stay in business with his stock dying off and now with the government banning all animal-based products?
Not only that, but what was he—or anyone—supposed to eat? Everyone he knew out in farm country ate what they produced: animal products. Dinner was steak, pork chops, chicken, not a bunch of frilly vegetables. Nothing made a finer meal than meat he’d dressed himself. He’d slaughter a steer for himself every so often, cut it up into steaks and roasts, then put it in the big chest freezer in the basement. Usually lasted him quite a while.
He chugged the rest of his bourbon and got up to get himself some more. A lot more.
CHAPTER 33
Jim “the Fox” Sullivan was a happy man. A vindicated man. He’d been saying for years that fucking with Mother Nature was a crime, and someone would eventually pay. And yet, despite all the letters he’d sent to whatever nincompoop happened to occupy the White House, no one had listened. Maybe they would now.
Yeah, not only had they bungled the environment in general, but they’d gone and screwed with the food chain. Bad enough all the genetic engineering with the animals themselves, but they’d managed to really fuck things up now. They’d fucked up a basic component of soybeans, of all things, something that is fed to damned near any farm animal you can name, and now look what happened.
He shook his head as he thought about the news that had broken earlier in the day. It was a heavy burden being right all the time. Too bad he was right this time. There was already a world of hurt going on with all the violence, but now that the cause had been uncovered, there would be food shortages like nothing before. They were already starting, in fact.
He gazed out the window from the second story of his farmhouse. As far as his eye could see, nothing but livestock untouched by GMO-polluted feeds, antibiotics, and other BigAg Trojan horse products. Everyone who lived and farmed in his enclave held the same beliefs. That’s why they followed him. That’s why they lived the way they did. Clean and pure.
Broken Chain Page 9
