by Nash, Lisa
“What other person?” Anders asked. “That doesn’t make sense. Only Grant…”
“That’s not true,” Dr. Grant said. “There is one other person with access to those records… all of our records. And technically, he’s not an employee.”
“Who…?” Anders asked and then answered his own question when it came to him in a flash, “Franklin Waters.”
-66-
“This is Franklin,” Dr. Green said introducing the paunchy man to Thomas.
Thomas smiled politely and nodded hello. He leaned forward in the uncomfortable plastic chair, and peered over his shoulder. Cora was still fast asleep three rooms down the hall, and he was starting to regret not waking her up. They didn’t have a lot of time left, but she looked so peaceful he couldn’t bring himself to disturb her.
“Franklin is like you.”
Thomas had no idea what he could possibly mean.
“That is to say his mother was also a bio-synthetic.”
“How do you do, Thomas?” Franklin Waters asked.
“You father was… human?” Thomas asked.
“He was, and a dirty bastard to boot.”
“Marcus wasn’t that bad,” Dr. Green said. “He made some poor choices, but all in all, he was a good man.”
“Yeah,” Franklin said, “he was a great guy. He denied I existed and helped pass legislation that defined me as not being human. Other than that, he was a real gem.”
“Wait,” Thomas said. “What legislation?”
Franklin looked at him bemused. “What legislation? Where have you been?”
Duncan interrupted from the back of the room. “The kid’s not exactly up on politics or news or anything meaningful as far as I can tell.”
“You see,” Franklin said, “that’s the problem today. People don’t pay attention to what their government is doing and when you don’t pay attention they shut the door on your goddamn civil liberties…”
“You can’t blame them,” Dr. Green said. “No, no, no… there’s so much to be cynical about it’s hard to know when to pay attention…”
“Bullshit…” Franklin started.
“Hey!” Thomas shouted. “What legislation?”
Duncan smiled. “Gentlemen, it appears the kid is ready to pay attention.”
Franklin said, “When Grant, the fucker who started all this, proposed the bio-synthetic bill, the great thinkers of our time, note the sarcasm in my tone, got together and developed a plan to make it legal. Biologically, bio-synthetics are created using the same basic building blocks used to create naturals. The only difference is how they’re put together. Naturals are built by ‘God’ – Whatever that is – and bio-synthetics are created by man. Here’s the rub. Bio-synthetics are better than naturals. You know why? Because randomness is taken out of the equation. Every function and feature is designed using the perfect chemical mixture and genetic programming. Congress wasn’t about to allow man to create a better human than God, so they came up with a way to make bio-synthetics inferior… temporary. A temporary humanoid created by man has as many rights as a tsetse fly.”
Thomas shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense. Why would Congress allow Grant to produce bio-synthetics in the first place if they objected to them?”
“Two reasons,” Franklin said.
Thomas groaned. “It’s always two reasons,” he said remembering the girl handing out flyers on the street.
“What?” Franklin asked.
“Nothing… it’s just that I have a feeling I’ve heard this before.”
“Any way, reason number one: Money. Grant didn’t sell them on the bio-synthetic technology. He sold them on the potential windfall the technology would generate. His company was privately owned but, being the evil and ever-so-shrewd businessman that he was, he’d gifted stock in the company to congressional family members months before he took his case to Congress. His lobbyist then made very convincing arguments to the lawmakers that those shares would exceed 100 times their value in less than 10 years at which time he would take the company public, and the value of the stock would vault so high that it was virtually incalculable. Even the most morally outraged members of Congress suddenly became supporters of the technology and the staunch believers in the mental health benefits it would provide.”
“And the second reason?”
“What goes with money? Sex. As some additional assurance, Grant literally seduced the congressional leadership with prototype bio-synthetics. Poor assholes didn’t have a chance against all those pheromones and souped up hormones. Add to that the perfect bodies and finely tuned seductive moves, and you’ve got a lot of married elected officials and public figures caught in very compromising positions. And compromise they did, including my old man, Senator Marcus Raymond. A religious man, who campaigned on family values and the power of God in his life, and propped his wife and kids up on stage with him like political accessories on every campaign stop he ever made. The problem is, after Grant came along, dear old dad was busy… screwing my mother after those stops. Once good old pop discovered mom was pregnant, Grant had pop where he wanted him. Grant reached the same agreement with my father as he did with the dozens of other powerbrokers in his position. The bio-synthetic unit and pregnancy would be… decommissioned.”
“Obviously he violated the agreement,” Thomas said. “You wouldn’t be here otherwise.”
“He violated half of the agreement. My mother was destroyed after I was born. I was kept alive in order to keep my father in line throughout his political career. Like you, I was placed in foster care. But, unlike you, I was monitored by Grant Bio-Synthetic. Once my father died, I was supposed to meet the same fate as my mother, but fortunately my foster parents moved me underground before the decommission team could find me. I lived my life in the shadows, learning what I was and devising a plan to find a way to bring Grant down.”
“So, that’s what this is about? Bringing Grant down?”
“More or less,” Duncan said.
“What does that mean?”
“It means Grant Bio-Synthetic is about to bring itself down.”
-67-
“Do you know how to start a war?” Senator Trelow asked his son.
The rising political star examined his father’s face as he sat next to him in the luxury air shuttle. They were on their way to a fundraiser in Manhattan, the senior Trelow’s old stomping grounds. Up until that moment their conversation had been light and free from talk of political strategy.
“Why would I need to know something like that, Senator?”
“Because, my boy, you are seeking the office of the most powerful leader in the world. It is your business to know.”
“Start a war? Shouldn’t I be more concerned with winning a war, or better yet, preventing war?”
“War is inevitable,” the candidate’s father said. “Some may even argue that war is necessary.”
“Necessary? Have you been drinking?”
“Yes, but I’m sober, unfortunately.”
“I doubt it…”
“Listen to me goddamnit!”
The Senator’s son was taken aback by his father’s tone. He was not a man known for angry outbursts. He was cruel, yes, but he rarely displayed a temper. He was much too in control for something like that.
“The benefits of war far outweigh the casualties.”
“I’m worried about you…”
“Shut up and listen.”
The younger Trelow fought the urge to bark back at his father. The old man had gone mad. It was obvious, but you just don’t refuse or quibble with the legendary Senator.
“Now beyond the technological advances that wars bring, wars dominate the focus of the country. Wars make it easy to govern the people. Money flows up during times of war.”
“Up?”
“History has proven that the upper class is a better arbiter of the economy than the lower class. War puts the economy in the hands of those who know better how to manage it.”
>
“In case you’ve missed it, Senator, I’m a populace candidate. I’ve promised to send the money down…”
“And I’m not opposed to you making that promise. I’m simply opposed to you keeping that promise, son. No one will be better off if you do.”
“I can’t believe what you’re saying. My whole life you’ve fought for the less fortunate.”
“I have, and I’m proud of it, but I haven’t fought for them to have more. I’ve fought for them to need less.”
The candidate furrowed his brow. “Tell me you’re joking.”
“I’m not known for my jokes, son, and I can assure you I’m deadly serious when it comes to the topic at hand.”
“Screwing the lower class…”
“No, war. You never answered my question. Do you know how to start a war?”
Exasperated the Senator’s son said, “No, father, how do you start a war?”
“You maneuver the other side into taking the first shot.”
-68-
“How is Grant Bio-Syn going to bring itself down?” Thomas asked no one in particular.
Duncan and Franklin shared a look and then glanced over at Dr. Green. He was lost in thought.
Franklin cleared his throat and said, “Just by being Grant Bio-Syn.”
“Meaning?”
Franklin crossed his arms and smiled. “We’re simply going to exploit their biggest weakness, a never ending, intensely focused, completely evil pursuit of the almighty profit.”
“Remember, kid,” Duncan said, “the fire that destroyed Rome was started by Romans.”
“Okay,” Thomas said, “so how do we get them to start the fire?”
“We create defects in their product,” Franklin answered.
“Not physical.” Duncan tapped his temple with his index finger. “We make it so they create whack jobs.”
“The conditioning process is the key,” Franklin said. “Doc’s made it so that once their personalities have been installed, and they’ve been paused three times with a clicker, a trigger’s pulled in their brains that slowly turns them into lunatics, the dangerous kind.”
“Dangerous?” Thomas said. “But people will get hurt.”
Franklin smirked. “Collateral damage is the only way to get the public’s attention and demand change.”
“Besides most of the casualties will be assholes who’ve willingly participated in the sex slave industry,” Duncan said. “You’ll pardon me if I don’t boohoo for them.”
Thomas’ head began to hurt. It was all too much for him. Two and half days ago, he was interviewing for a job with kick-ass benefits and a decent salary. Now, he was discussing revolution with two men he barely knew.
“I know it’s a tough pill to swallow, kid,” Duncan said. “But this has been going on too long. We’ve got to put an end to Grant Bio-Syn.”
“But you’ll be ending – I mean you’re a synthetic,” Thomas said. “If you pull this off, they won’t make anymore.”
“Good,” Franklin said.
“Good?” Thomas was confused by the near glee in his tone.
“As long as they are made by man, man will claim dominion over them,” Franklin said. “What they’re designed to do now just scratches the surfaces of what they can be made for. Think of wars fought with throwaway soldiers – medical experiments – drug testing – the depths of the naturals’ depravity and cruelty is boundless. The only way to save future generations of synthetics is to prevent them from ever hitting the manufacturing line.”
-69-
Dr. Grant listened to her team discuss their next move. Other than a few nods of agreement and looks of concern, she barely participated in the conversation. When it was decided what needed to be done, everyone started to clear her office, and she finally cleared her throat and spoke. “Denise, I’d like to speak with you.”
The security chief nodded and stood at attention across the desk from the chairman.
With the last of the others out of the room, Dr. Grant said in a steady voice, “Who authorized you to open my calendar?”
“You did, ma’am. I mean, that is my job…”
“Do I strike you as stupid, Denise?”
“No…”
“Then you must think I have a lot of free time to wade through your bullshit.”
Harvey didn’t respond.
“Very well. You obviously are unwilling to give up any information, so I am just going to assume you are working for our good friend Senator Trelow.”
“That would be an erroneous assumption, Dr. Grant.” Harvey remained stone-faced.
Dr. Grant studied her face. “You lie very convincingly…”
Harvey smiled. “You have no idea.”
Furious, Dr. Grant said. “Just what does that mean?
“I suppose it’s time I tell you the truth.” Harvey looked at her watch. “After all, we are approaching the 72-hour mark.”
-70-
“It’s a virus. A real virus,” Franklin said. “Not phony like virus seventy-three.”
Duncan said. “The trick is to have it make its way into the Grant Bio-Syn’s manufacturing process.”
“Okay, how do we do that?” Thomas asked.
“We?’ Duncan smiled. “You a part of this now?”
“I guess I am,” Thomas said after some hesitation.
“You’re coming to the party a little late, but I guess better late than never,” Duncan said.
“So, how do we get the virus into Grant Bio-Syn’s manufacturing process?”
“A Trojan horse,” Franklin said.
“Right, we fuck them by using their own corporate greed against them.”
Franklin smiled. “It couldn’t be a more fitting way to bring them down.”
“You see, Franklin here has been their friendly liaison with the FDA for a couple of years now. He’s done a pretty good job of working his way into the inner circle and convincing them that he’s the kind of guy who will look the other way when they violate a federal regulation here and there in order to save a few bucks.”
“To be fair,” Franklin said, “it didn’t take a lot of convincing. The guy before me set the precedent of taking the occasional bribe to leave a few irregularities off the books.”
Duncan continued. “Chief among those irregularities is recycling synthetic material from bio-syns before they’re decommissioned. It’s a big no-no according to FDA regulations because they want to eliminate any chance of contamination that would pose a health risk to the general population. All bio-syns must be manufactured from scratch, but that adds time to the manufacturing process that costs the company money in the end.”
Thomas smiled. “I think I understand. You’re going to send a bio-syn back that contains the virus.”
“Bingo,” Duncan said.
“But one won’t do the trick,” Franklin said. “We need to get a couple of dozen into the facility in order for it to be effective.”
“Doc’s cranked about 50 various models in the last month or so. It should do the trick.”
Thomas furrowed his brow. “How do you plan on getting 50 bio-syns into their facility?”
Duncan grinned. “Well, we were kind of hoping they’d come pick them up.”
-71-
Denise Harvey left Dr. Grant alone to stew in her new reality. The chairman of the board sat at her desk feeling her world spinning faster and faster. She tried to stop it by denying what Harvey had told her. It couldn’t be true. It wasn’t true.
The door to her office opened and a man stepped in. An older gentleman, casually dressed. He spoke in a high-pitched squeaky tone. “She’s struggling with denial.”
Two young people followed him into Dr. Grant’s office, a man and a woman.
“Who are you?” Dr. Grant asked. “How did you get in my office?”
“Fascinating,” the man said. “She’s been told the truth. Given irrefutable proof, yet she still refers to this as her office.”
The young woman tapped
away on her tablet. “Her brainwave activity is astonishing. She’s teetering back and forth dramatically between Beta and Delta states.”
“Indeed,” the older man said. “Her brain is trying to protect her from the information she’s been given. It’s an attempt to detach herself from reality.”
Dr. Grant stood. “I asked you a question.”
The older man stepped forward. “I’m Dr. Leo Getman, and these are my associates, Rachel Rice and Samuel Hammond. We’re here to observe.”
“Observe?”
“I know it may seem terribly rude to you, but the kind of information you’ve learned gives us a unique opportunity to study the psychological and physical effects of such news. It’s comparable to one learning of their impending death, after all.”
“Death?” Dr. Grant fell to her chair.
“Heart rate is slightly elevated,” Samuel Hammond said.
“That’s to be expected,” Dr. Getman said.
“I wonder if she would tell us what she’s thinking,” Rachel Rice said.
Dr. Getman leaned forward and studied Dr. Grant’s face. “It wouldn’t hurt to ask.” He snapped his fingers to get the chairman’s attention. “Excuse me, dear, but can you address Rachel’s query. What are your thoughts?”
Dr. Grant looked at him blankly. “Thoughts?”
“Yes,” Rachel Rice asked stepping forward. “The myth is that one’s entire life flashes before their eyes. Are you experiencing anything like that at all?”
“I don’t know how she could,” Samuel Hammonds said. “She didn’t really have a life.”
Dr. Getman cocked an eyebrow. “Technically, I suppose that is true, but the conditioning is remarkably effective. They’ve been implanted with a self-perpetuating neurological programming. A remarkable thing actually. They’re given certain protocols about their life and family history, and with the help of a logic algorithm, their brains invent the details. It’s quite real to them.”
“Them?” Dr. Grant said.
