Letters to the Cyborgs

by Judyth Baker

  “No, you didn’t!” I cried out, in anguish.

  “I did. I left the jewelry, of course. Hers is too distinctive. But liquor? It was worth a fortune, what I poured out. Never to be seen again. Of course, not all of it. I have two more safes, filled to the brim.”

  “Tell me where they are, an’ I promise, you’ll get a commuted sentence,” I offered.

  “You are so fucked up right now. Maybe someday,” Antoine replied. “The Harris fortune was still secure, for all that. I had to be very quiet, but the rain and thunder was on my side. Henrietta hates thunder. She always wore earplugs when there was thunder. Or, she did. Now, all I had to do was to strangle her, hit myself on the head with a bottle, and report the robbery and murder. You Cyborgs never investigate such things, since my wife has no rare genetic profile to worry about. I really thought I’d set up the perfect crime.”

  I nodded in agreement. I was so sloshed that Antoine’s voice was just a faint echo in my ears, but I knew I had to stay awake. I had to hear it all. After all, he’d given me one of the best buzzes of my life!

  “After making sure that my dog was drugged,” Antoine continued, “that he would stay quiet, and checking that the maid was asleep in the basement, I took the bottle, poured some of the remaining liquor on the carpet, broke the bottle, wiped it clean, and laid it down by the stairs. Next, I began ascending the steps. In the darkness, with the power out, I was unable to use the elevator.”

  “They don’ fix power in Ghetto fast,” I commented.

  “That’s right. But it didn’t matter. I was now set in my course. Nothing would stop me.”

  “But, why would a robber go up and kill her?”

  “I would testify that she started screaming when she heard him break the bottle over my head. For I intended to kill her, come down the stairs, and hit myself over the head with the bottle. There would be blood, of course, but I was willing to chance it. It would be worth it.”

  I couldn’t see very well by now, but I could not detect any mark on Antoine’s face or head.

  “It would have worked,” Antoine whispered. “I would have been free! They would have blamed it on the burglar. After all, we also had a safe in the bedroom that the maid knew about. To stop my wife’s screaming, of course I would have to kill her quickly.”

  “Of course.”

  “Now I bent over her … her with her damnable Magic Mud, her disgusting cotton wads shoved up her nose, and as the thunder rolled and fresh lightning flared, I grabbed her by the throat. She is such a little thing. Hardly a hundred pounds, you know…”Antoine lifted his head, looking like a proud, unconquered beast. His eyes flared with his passion. “It only takes a minute to break the hyoid bone.6 Did you know that the hyoid bone in the throat is the only bone that does not articulate with any other bone in the body?”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “I am a big man. I have strong hands. Suddenly, just as Henrietta’s eyes rolled up in her head, and her gasping ceased, the power was restored. That’s when I saw Henrietta rise from the other side of our big bed. Nestled as she had been, with her towels around her head, her earplugs shutting out every sound, only now did she see what had happened. Only now, did she scream!”

  Antoine shook his head. “It was her cousin Shirley! She had arrived early because of the coming storm. Covered, of course, with Magic Mud, her earplugs in, her nose filled with cotton, I had no idea…”

  “Too bad, old man,” I said.

  “If only I’d read Henrietta’s note!” Antoine growled. “She’d left a note on the door, asking me to sleep in the guest room, because she wanted Shirley to try the mud pack. But it was dark. It was so very dark.”

  I rose up, unsteady on my feet. “It’s a great story,” I told him. “And I wish I could help you.”

  “What do you mean?” Antoine demanded. “You’re going to help me, aren’t you? You posted bail for me, after all.”

  “I told you I wouldn’t release your story to the public until you’re dead, by whatever cause. I’m ‘honest Abe.’ And cannot tell a lie. I told you I’d choose the inaccurate brain scan version, or yours, whichever gave you the best chance for sentence reduction.”

  Antoine looked at me steadily for a long moment, then he sighed. “I should have known better than to trust a damned robot,” he said.

  “You already said that,” I reminded him. “But fact is, you killed a rare Tibetan, and the penalty is incineration. It’s always incineration for narrowing the gene pool. By arranging bail for you, I gave you a sentence reduction. Some extra hours to live. An opportunity to return to your home. Say goodbye to Henrietta.”

  “She moved out!” Antoine said, bitterly.

  “You got time to put your things in order. You have 48 more hours here, to yourself, before I return with handcuffs. Remember, I gave you 72 extra hours to live.”

  “Why in hell did you bother?” the old man asked, as I got unsteadily to my feet.

  “Because it’s well known that you have the best liquor in town,” I told him. “I cannot tell a lie.”

  Endnotes

  1. On Oct. 15, 2014, Dr. Christopher Exley announced that non-invasive means to remove aluminum from the brain were available, and that aluminum, the prime suspect in Alzheimers, should not be allowed to accumulate in the human body. “Exley, Professor in Bioinorganic Chemistry, Aluminium and Silicon Research Group in The Birchall Centre, Lennard-Jones Laboratories at Keele University, writes in Frontiers in Neurology about the ‘Aluminium Age’ and its role in the ‘contamination’ of humans by aluminium … “There are neither cures nor effective treatments for Alzheimer’s disease. The role of aluminium in Alzheimer’s disease can be prevented by reducing human exposure to aluminium and by removing aluminium from the body by non-invasive means.” [Note: ‘aluminum’ in British English is ‘aluminium.’ ] http://www.neuroscientistnews.com/research-news/aluminium-and-its-likely-contribution-alzheimer%E2%80%99s-disease#sthash.PR3oMzpo.dpuf Acquired July 9, 2015.

  2. As of 2015, Population Council, Inc. which was originally a eugenics society dedicated to reducing the populations of unwanted races of humans, as described in the Memoirs by David Rockefeller (2002) operates today in 60 countries. “It held the license for Norplant contraceptive implant, and now holds the license for Mirena intrauterine system. The Population Council also publishes the journals Population and Development Review, which reports scientific research on the interrelationships between population and socioeconomic development and provides a forum for discussion of related issues of public policy, and Studies in Family Planning, which focuses on public health, social science, and biomedical research on sexual and reproductive health, fertility, and family planning.” (see https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Population_Council) Less well-known is its partnership with Acrux, which has created a spray-on birth control product, Nestorone. The spray is odorless and colorless, and only tiny amounts are needed to block conception. See: http://www.theaustralian.com.au/news/health-science/skin-spray-contraceptive-next-big-thing/story-e6frg8y6-1111115500581 Retrieved July 9, 2015.

  3. For example, a Phenibut-type tranquilizer was being used to excess. Today, Phenibut – beta-phenyl-gamma aminobutyric acid HCL is a tranquilizing and neuropsychotropic drug used so plentifully by millions that it is ordered through (the world’s biggest source of farmed dog fur) , the notorious Ali Baba goods and commodities network by the TON (many companies specify a minimum order of 25 kilograms (55.116 pounds of powder). It stimulates dopamine receptors, etc. and is addictive, with withdrawal symptoms similar to what alcoholics experience. See: http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/11830761 and http://www.alibaba.com/showroom/phenibut-99%2525.html Acquired Jan. 15, 2016.

  4. Pepper-spray drones came into use for handling protesters in 2014, making it almost impossible for demonstrations to occur without participants experiencing pain without discrimination. http://qz.com/489204/north-dakota-is-the-first-state-in-the-us-to-legalize-police-use-of-drones-with-tasers-and-pepper-spray/ Ac
quired Nov. 15, 2015.

  5. http://www.anthrogenica.com/showthread.php?5658-Haplogroup-J2a-Serbs&s=d141ae4aba84351b694851727e8af5a7 Perhaps the rarest distinctive haplogroup ever discovered? Also see: http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4231405/ concerning the Tharu, which in the late time-frame of this story would probably be the rarest haplogroup still extant.

  6. The hyoid bone is associated with the ability to speak. It’s possible that strangulation was the method of choice because this educated human understood that fact. Recently it was discovered that Neanderthals had the ability to speak, based on the shape of their hyoid bones. See: http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2014/03/140302185241.htm Acquired Feb. 5, 2015.

  Airspace

  There has been a 30% increase in carbon dioxide since the beginning of the industrial age.… Since the beginning of the industrial revolution, we have removed .095% of the oxygen in our atmosphere … that is only a tenth of one percent of the total supply, but oxygen makes up only 20% of the atmosphere. I looked up safety rules regarding oxygen concentrations and according to OSHA rules on atmospheres in closed environments, if the oxygen level in such an environment falls below 19.5% it is oxygen deficient, putting occupants of the confined space at risk of losing consciousness and death. What happens if the world’s atmospheric levels of oxygen fall to 19.5% or lower?

  – Mike Johnson, Science and Technology, Dec. 2007

  Johnson wrote to Dr. Ralph Keeling of Scripps Institute, which conducted the study he cited. Here’s what he was told: “The O2:C combustion ratio of a fossil-fuel depends on the hydrogen content. The ratio varies from about 1.2 for coal, 1.45 for liquid fuels, and 2.0 for natural gas. Taking these factors together, we are losing nearly three O2 molecules for each CO2 molecule that accumulates in the air…”

  It was a quick walk from the parking lot through the tunnel to Houston Dome 52, even though he was accompanied by his bodyguards.

  As Dr. Daniel Cook, along with his protectors, entered the conference center through a pair of airlocks, he could hear the blades begin to whirl. The conference room must be full, he realized. That was good. He stepped into a waiting elevator and was soon 30 stories above the city, which he could see laid out before him with its twinkling lights and flashing advertisements, a glittering gem of activity that shimmered through the clear aluminum panes.1 As Dr. Cook and his bodyguards left the elevator, they were greeted by several colleagues who gazed anxiously around the hallway before leading him into the conference hall, where several City of Houston armed guards stood at attention, machine guns handy. A security matron had scanned the guests’ ID chips, making sure they were current. They all checked out. No one was wearing a warning advisory. No one had an active MindKontrol® implant. The guests were clean.

  As the fans clicked on and off, delivering Angel Air® in precious blasts of wind, everyone breathed in deep. It was a pleasure to breathe Angel Air, which proved to each guest how important he or she was to Dr. Cook and his honored speaker, the Grand Lady Mayor of the City (she was soon to appear). It wasn’t easy to breathe in most places, Cook reminded himself, as he drew in the Angel Air. Life could be so good when the air was so fresh.

  Cook congratulated himself on being part of this choice interview. Live interviews were rare, these days. Only historic announcements generated interviews anymore: everything less important was delivered into your brain while you slept. A good citizen had nothing to fear. God help you, if you didn’t like what you received, because then you’d have to undergo some instruction, which sometimes led to a nightmare or a headache. The worst cases needed to be re-educated in learning centers. Cook was proud that he’d never experienced a nightmare; just an occasional headache. The information was the same for everyone, which kept them united. Ever since Texas had seceded from the old USA, unity was important against the roving masses (they were mostly from Latin America and the Gulf States) who had been starved out during the GMO Crop Failures and the volcanic eruptions.

  Even today, carbon dioxide levels were still rising. Cook, whose original degree was in Ecosystems, had once been a lonely writer of reports on the world’s crop failures – due to too much CO2 and GMO engineering – two decades earlier. As CO2 levels rose, food crops were supposed to grow faster than ever, but instead, they grew only 30% as well as before. Everyone seemed to have forgotten that plants couldn’t absorb enough nitrogen to grow well when CO2 levels rose too high.2 The result was starvation, with riots. The strongest states managed to secure their borders, but the United States of America, overflowing with Latino, Indian, Muslim and Asian migrants, simply collapsed. The rest of the world didn’t fare much better.

  As he breathed deeply, enjoying the oxygen it used up and the CO2 it produced, Dr. Cook moved to the stage and stood behind the podium, as a brief light show about his greatness was displayed behind him on a large screen. During the light show, Cook kept an eye on the guards. He had been invited to host the Mayor’s exclusive press conference because he was the owner of the world’s most important oxygen gas factories. His oxygen delivery systems were being utilized in every domed city in the world, and he was becoming incredibly rich because of it.

  Thanks to Cook’s foresight and hard work, the world’s oxygen level was stabilizing, drifting along at an average of 19.8% at a 200-meter elevation. Still, there was the persistent CO2 problem, and Cook owned the top experts on that subject.3 Hypercapnia was the fancy name for what happened when breathing too much carbon dioxide, which is why farmers and tourists wore CO2-collecting masks when they stepped outside their homes and domes.4 Dr. Cook’s last report – “Project Steak Lung” – was such a success that it had been piped into every citizen’s head a few months ago. Through genetic engineering, a way had been found to create cattle with birds’ lungs, to the delight of all who wanted to savor the Real Thing once more. Large mammals had been unable to adapt to the higher CO2 levels, meaning the survivors had to be confined in expensive buildings with air control. Now equipped with avian lungs, cattle would be cheaper to house, and steak would be cheaper, too.5

  Cook was betting that the Mayor’s conference was probably going to be about CO2 control. It was the most persistent problem the city faced. Maybe the new geothermal projects were finally funneling enough CO2 below the surface to clear the air.6 However the conference went, Mayor Awdrey was a consummately good politician. She had her reasons to invite every face in this crowd. Even the Governor was here, surrounded by his own bodyguards and drawing up something added to his oxygen through a hookah. Certainly it was time to do something more about air quality. The outside world was almost unlivable. Tunnel systems made of clear, polycarbonate tubes provided strong, safe roadways, complete with UV-shielding and Texas Guard Patrols, that stretched between the great cities of the Lone Star State, but there was a constant tide of protesters who wanted oxygen-generating factories to be built in every city. So far, Cook had been able to keep tight patent controls on his oxygen production systems, releasing only a small percentage of oxygen to the general atmosphere. The rest was sold.

  The Mayor was a wise woman, Cook mused, as he raised a hand to call for order. She would let the newsmen, publicists and politicos enjoy themselves in this over-decorated, Baroque style anteroom, where luxuries abounded, hinting at her good will. Smiling but not speaking, Cook had spent several socially-important minutes working his way with appropriate dignity and charm alongside the great, linen-covered table with its lavish burdens, where the guests had sampled hors d’oeuvres, real shrimp, Coca-Cola made with real sugar, and moonshine from Kentucky. Pretty Japanese servers (they were robots) were very helpful: they were also very available for rent at night’s end.

  Bill Comeaux, Cook’s main bodyguard, was so distracted by one of the robot girls that he touched his wrist to bring up a screen of his account on his forearm. Cook knew that Bill had just enough resources to rent Kimmy-Sue, and he gave a nod when Bill flashed his arm toward his boss. Bill was a decent fellow who wouldn’t beat up a sex rob
ot or torture it. Cook had been forced to dismiss Bill’s predecessor for his sadistic tendencies with sex robots: it not only made Cook look bad, but the bills to repair the robots had been excessive.

  With such great food and the high-quality service girls available at affordable prices, Madame Mayor certainly knew how to make her guests feel important. She had really outdone herself. But then, Cook knew that this press conference was going to reveal something big. Very big.

  The anti-pollution machines suddenly turned on, whirling the air around at top speed, and everyone straightened their ties and activated their recorders. The Police, no doubt, were on their way, assigned to screen the guests before Madame Mayor appeared. As a security officer sprayed an anti-sensor around the room, the guests stopped speaking, training their eyes on the big double doors that would open and bring, first, the Police, and then Ms. Awdrey.

  Instead, Dr. Cook tapped his microphone and announced, “Mayor Awdrey herself will now enter the Conference Room!”

  And there she was, being rolled in on her enclosed podium, flanked by four security guards. A shield of ALON encapsulated her in a transparent cocoon that surely was filled with the most excellent air available. Whiffs of Angel Air once more filled the room as Madame Mayor rolled forth, the atmosphere sweetly rich in oxygen. At a signal from her thick, jeweled hand, the room’s anti-pollution machines began pumping Enhanced Angel Air into the room. Cook had almost forgotten how good it was to breathe 20% oxygen, with only 1% carbon dioxide,7 and no sulfur dioxide at all. As they breathed in the most refreshing air available on the planet, Mayor Awdrey smiled benevolently at her guests through her bullet-proof shield as more security guards appeared, posting themselves three-thick around her.