Chapter 1
“Deep, deep, deep down inside
where truth is forced to hide
is where we all must go.” - AH
No one knew where it came from. Or why. No one could see it
coming. But finally, it had arrived. Perhaps the seeds of this
anomalic aberration had been delivered unto the earth in a recent
meteor shower. Or perhaps the entropic entity had lain dormant
for millennium, just waiting for the right moment to declare its
existence. Either way, the hate gene had evolved, appearing and
attaching itself to the very end of the genetic double-helix called
the human dna. How did it happen? Nobody knew. What would
happen next? Nobody knew. Maybe it was a last-ditch attempt
for the species to survive. How ironic. An attempt at preservation
through the perils of an adopted animosity. The mutation that
foretold the pending extinction of the self-destructive human
race. You could call it a blueprint for disaster. You could call it
the de-evolution of arrogant domination. Call it whatever you
want, but the hate gene did not care. It was here to stay. Embedded
in the embryo of every future human child. And the future was not
looking good. No, not good at all.
The man who discovered the infamous HG-8686 was a controver-
sial geneticist named Dr. Hugo Down. Now, Dr. Down was not liked
very much by the current scientific community, mostly because of
his radical research experiments in the highly misunderstood branch
of science called eugenics. Most people thought that eugenics was
about eradication, while in essence it was simply the science of
genetic improvement. To cultivate the creative rather than the
destructive, so to speak. But Dr. Down was not deterred in his
efforts to improve the human dna, which was exactly what led to
his horror-full discovery of HG-8686. Indeed it was Dr. Down who
first identified the inherent mutation that he hoped to somehow,
some way, find a way to overcome. He did not know if he could
succeed, but he knew that if he did not try, well, let’s not create a
panic just yet by going into the rabid ramifications of that, shall we?
No, let’s give hope a chance, in spite of the overwhelming odds of
imminent failure.
The newly-elected president of the United States was a fierce oppo-
nent of Dr. Hugo Down. He did not like him. In fact, the Potus was a
fierce opponent of most scientists, and science in general. The new
Potus was a businessman, and he knew that almost all scientists were
bad for business. Always trying to fix things, or improve things, or
make things better instead of accepting the fact that business as
usual was as good as things were gonna get. The Potus was a billion-
aire, Dr. Down was not. The new leader of the free world knew how
to manipulate the system. Dr. Down did not. So what if it was a
broken system, it could still work for all those who were not afraid
to break the rules. Don’t call it criminal intent, power is for those
who are not afraid to abuse it. That’s why the Potus hated Dr. Down.
Business and science do not mix. One is about breaking people and
the other is about trying to fix them. But Dr. Hugo Down was not
afraid to stand up to the new Potus, not afraid to publish his secular,
non-solipsistic pontification about the rapidly fading, hate-filled
future of humankind, because Dr. Down was not in it for the money.
Unlike the current criminal-in-chief who only cared about the bottom
line that would lead us all straight to the bottom. And so Dr. Down
dared to stand up to the man who hated him. The man who had some-
how made it to the top of the hierarchy of hate. But hopefully not for
long.
Dr. Down knew he was in danger. Several other scientists he knew
had already been silenced. Threatened with imprisonment or placed
under house arrest. It was like the days of Galileo all over again, only
far more dangerous. Dr. Down had already received several death
threats so he had to be careful. Careful about what he said and did,
and especially careful about where he went. Which was why he spent
most of his time secluded in his laboratory disguised as a clothing
warehouse. He had few visitors, except for the few scientists he knew
who had not yet been silenced. Together they formed a small informal
think tank, hoping to help to improve the un-free world through the
benefits of related sciences. Dr. Stanley Upton, a renowned biochemist,
was one of Dr. Down’s closest comrades and perhaps his best friend.
Another colleague in collusion was Dr. Mina Middleton, a celebrated
microbiologist and neurologist. They had both received death threats
too, but not nearly as many as Dr. Hugo Down had. Yes, science was
a dangerous profession to be in these days, so everybody had to be
extremely careful if they wanted to continue their work. Or even
continue to live, for that matter. But such was the nature of a world
where the dominant species had been infected by HG-8686. And so
there was much dangerous work to be done. By anyone with both
the intelligence and the courage to carry on.
There was a knock on the door. A single knock. Ten seconds later,
another single knock. Then ten seconds later, a third single knock.
The homeless bum outside stood back from the door, staring at the
peep-hole. At last the door opened, revealing another homeless bum.
The two men gave each other the finger, the secret sign. Then the
bum on the outside joined the bum on the inside and the door closed.
“You’re a little late.” said Mr. Down.
“I know. Sorry. Thought I was being followed, so I had to stop and
pretend to do a little shopping.” replied Mr. Upton. “Is the bag-lady
already here?”
“Yes.” answered Mr. Down. “We’ve been waiting for you.”
The two bums climbed up the black, wrought-iron spiral staircase
to the second floor of the ware-lab. Went down a long corridor that
led to a second door. Mr. Down opened it to reveal the bag-lady
seated at the round table in the center of the room.
“Well, hello Stanley. Glad you could join us.” said the bag-lady.
“Yeah, me too, Mina.” replied Mr. Upton. “Sorry I’m late, but better
late than never, huh?”
The bag-lady did not reply. She returned her gaze to the laptop
screen in front of her. The two bums sat down next to her. Then
the bag-lady said:
“Well, at least there are three of us still here.”
“Yes. And we should all be grateful for that.” said Mr. Down.
“Yeah, but for how much longer?” asked Mr. Upton.
“Shush,” interrupted Ms. Middleton, “the show is about to begin.”
Then the two bums and the bag-lady focused on the little laptop
screen. And the latest press conference of the latest Potus began.
Mandate of Hate Speech -- Potus, 2017
(broadcast live on NNN -- The National News Network)
