Moral hazard, p.1
Moral Hazard, page 1
Copyright © 2014 J J Eldridge
Published by Iguana Books
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All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise (except brief passages for purposes of review) without the prior permission of the author or a licence from The Canadian Copyright Licensing Agency (Access Copyright). For an Access Copyright licence, visit www.accesscopyright.ca or call toll free to 1-800-893-5777.
Publisher: Greg Ioannou
Editor: Vanessa Ricci-Thode
Front cover images: Courtesy of Shutterstock
Front cover design: Ashley James
Book layout design: Kathryn Willms
Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication
Eldridge, J. J., 1961-, author
Moral hazard / J.J. Eldridge.
Issued in print and electronic formats.
ISBN 978-1-77180-100-3 (pbk.).–ISBN 978-1-77180-101-0 (epub).–
ISBN 978-1-77180-102-7 (kindle).–ISBN 978-1-77180-103-4 (pdf)
I. Title.
PR6105.L47M67 2015 823′.92 C2014-908169-3
C2014-908170-7
This is an original electronic edition of Moral Hazard.
For M&M.
2003, Vienna, The DNA Conscious
Nathan did not know who he worked for. He was bright enough to know that they were apolitical yet instrumental in global decision-making. He knew that their access to scientific research was unprecedented, and that they had unlimited wealth to devote to certain projects that they deemed of exponential importance to the future of mankind’s existence. During the two years since his initial engagement, he had never set eyes on any panel member, but discussed concepts with an opaque anonymity that rarely spoke back yet retained a nefarious ubiquity that hung like a shadow across every aspect of his life. He did not believe that he had sold his soul to the devil or anything that dramatic — he was a scientist. However, he did acknowledge that he had consciously chosen a path that had no undoing, and he had therefore long since reconciled himself to embracing it as positive and enlightening.
He remembered the final few words of his second meeting with the panel, when he had agreed to accept the assignment.
“You will be well rewarded,” a female voice had confirmed, “but if you start this assignment, you can never leave it. It will personify your life in ways that you can only dream of, or become your nemesis if you choose to behave unwisely.”
He had never doubted these words, and had behaved “unwisely” on only one occasion. As a result of a frustrated ego, he had once decided that he wanted to know more, and had hired a private investigator to try ascertaining where the panel might meet by intercepting various communication signals. The attempt had been unsuccessful, but when he visited the bank later that week to put some private papers into his safety deposit box, he found the box empty save for a small, typewritten note.
“Don’t do that again,” was all it said.
At his third meeting, Nathan concluded that he was being addressed by a single panel member, a Hermes for the others, a woman once again, whose accent fell somewhere in the deep Atlantic between New York and London. She spoke slowly and a number of images were thrown across a screen in front of Nathan.
“As we have previously discussed,” she began, “we have employed you on account of your unprecedented research into DNA, brain stem-cell research, and cloning. We also find you egocentric and unscrupulous, traits which suit our purpose.”
The woman paused, and Nathan interpreted it as an opportunity to speak, but she cut him off.
“Please, Nathan,” she said quickly, “I have lots to get through, so do not interrupt.”
Nathan imagined that she had raised a hand from her notes, so he quietly nodded and shifted his weight to the other side of his chair.
“Our preoccupation is population control,” she continued. “In 1804, the world’s population stood at a mere one billion, and it would be another one hundred and twenty-two years before mankind passed the two billion milestone. What is more alarming is that the world population has doubled since 1950, doubled in the space of forty years, and we expect the seventh billion human to be born in 2011. I will not bore you with all the statistics except to say that this planet can probably sustain five billion souls, and that Homo sapiens, this extraordinary cocktail of DNA, are advancing more dramatically than we ever imagined. Put simply, we are losing control, or we will lose control of this special resource unless we act, unless we pre-empt in dramatic fashion. Moreover, we estimate that by 2030, there will be two workers for every retired person, a fact which makes no economic sense in this world; it is simply not sustainable under this financial model and the planet will implode at some point.”
The voice paused for a few moments and Nathan wondered if she was sipping from a glass of water.
She cleared her throat and continued, “We have been working on different contingencies for a few years now, we always are. This project has taken priority over all others, a project designed to adjust world population statistics but in a way we can measure accurately, so our focus has not been on war or disease — as you might imagine, it’s a complex, tricky subject. Now, you may know that up to the 1970s or so, population increases were calculated based on hyperbolic growth and that hyperbolic growth differs from exponential growth and logistic growth, although the three terms are often confused. Suffice it to say that we had to surmise that calculations based solely on hyperbolic growth were difficult to nail down fifty years into the future, that within these formulae lay too many unknowns. So, we have run many scenarios thus far and they leave us with many unanswered questions, of course, but with one fundamental area of choice as we see it.”
A few words appeared on the screen in front of Nathan:
Do you try to control population at the beginning or at the end of life?
“Up to now, Nathan,” she continued, “all studies and trials have suggested the beginning of life: fertility studies, birth control plans, look at China’s efforts, and so on and so forth. What is most interesting about all this research is that the beginning is not trend proof and never will be, it never has been, and so it’s not sustainable. We are only interested in sustainable plans.” The woman coughed and cleared her throat.
“Excuse me,” she said, “I have a frog in my throat.”
Nathan found her apology surreal given what they were discussing.
“So, we looked at options for the end of life, obviously, and we have considered disease, epidemics, et cetera, but as I alluded to earlier, these are short-term solutions that mankind will eventually obviate; we know that, we have experience with such programs.”
Nathan’s hands became clammy as he clasped them tightly in his lap.
“Furthermore, this solution loads costs disproportionately onto the end of a life, the cost of long life, so to speak, and this simply bears down on those working; remember, the two-to-one ratio of worker to retiree by 2030. If we make people ill, that medical burden will be carried by those working, so we discarded that as an option.” The woman paused once again and another set of words appeared in front of Nathan:
This is our remit: to reduce the world population by two billion souls over the next fifty years and to sustain a population of less than five billion human souls for the next millennium.
The woman paused to let the full impact sink in.
“Are you with me so far, Nathan?” she asked quietly.
He nodded without replying, encouraging her to continue.
“You might find the next section of what I have to say fanciful or fantastic,” she continued, “but rest assured, we have hundreds of years of experience in manipulating mankind, so we are not interested in what you think about our concept. We simply want to know whether it can be done, scientifically, and if so, how you will do it and how long it will take. Is that clear?”
Nathan nodded once again.
“Good,” she said quietly, almost to herself. “Now, you will know from your research that the normal human uses only ten percent of his or her DNA, the remainder being what you referred to last year as junk DNA, but that certain people throughout history — Jesus being the main protagonist — have been able to access their full DNA capacity, which have made them vibrate at a much higher tempo within the universe’s electromagnetic spectrum and given them what some perceived to be supernatural powers, powers to heal, for example, in his case. You will know better than I that the healing frequency for damaged DNA is five hundred and twenty-eight Hertz. As a specialist in this field, you will also know that there are many species in nature that retain extraordinary communication abilities, paradoxically because they have yet to become as introspective as Homo sapiens — bees, ants, whales, dolphins; the examples in nature are endless.
“What we wish to do is something similar but a little more complicated.” She paused. “I can see that I have sparked your imagination,” she said.
“You have,” Nathan said simply. “Please go on.”
“Our intention is to give you access to our work on DNA manipulation, and we want you to create three hybrids, three people who have two unique characteristics. The first is their ability to access their full DNA potential, which will give them certain unique abilities; the second is to close certain areas of their minds to make them less introspective; they will become like
“No.” Nathan shook his head.
“We want to know if it can be done, and if it can, we will then tell you why and what steps to take.”
Nathan sensed that the meeting was drawing to a close.
“We have arranged certain facilities and assistance for you, and, as I said, additional information on DNA manipulation, which you will need. We require your response in twelve months. That should be adequate time.”
The woman did not wait for Nathan to reply; the screen simply went dead.
2005, Vienna,
Nigroque Cygno, A Black Swan
Nathan’s research and reports had been approved by the panel, and he had been given control of the program. His anonymous employers would retreat into the shadows where they would weave their spin into the farthest corners of the globe. Nathan recalled his second set of instructions. Their concept seemed incredible at first but no more so than mankind’s appetite for religious belief, its enduring dependence on salvation. On this occasion, there were two panel members, a man and a woman, and they took turns delivering his instructions, which Nathan found odd afterward, when he sat in the half-light and considered what he had been instructed to do.
“Do you know what a black swan event is?” the man asked as soon as Nathan sat down.
“Not really, no,” Nathan replied. He had a vague idea but had learned that there were no shortcuts when dealing with his employers.
The man sounded a little irritated as he continued, “You are going to implement what we shall call a black swan event, quite simply an event which is a complete surprise, an event which has a major effect across the globe, but an event which, once witnessed and rationalized, mankind will subsequently tell itself could have been expected, that in hindsight there is plausibility, justification even. Let me tell you what you are going to do.”
But it was the woman who took up his instructions. “You are going to implement a simple marketing strategy that will be prosecuted through a new set of prophets, the Millennium prophets — three prophets to be precise — two men and one woman who will be born in 2010 with incredible powers, genetically engineered in accordance with your research and reports. They will start their crusades across the globe when they are twenty-five years old, and they will heal through their hands, miracle after miracle — imagine cancer momentarily eradicated, their gift to civilization, and, in tandem, what will they preach, what will they advocate, what will they do themselves at thirty-three years old, the same age as Jesus when he went to the cross? They will self-sacrifice because their unified message throughout their eight-year crusades will be as follows.”
A set of words appeared in front of Nathan:
Just as God sent his only son to sacrifice himself for the sin of mankind, so mankind must now sacrifice to save mankind, to sustain mankind.
“Their self-sacrifice will be this black swan event.”
Nathan was not sure if he could believe what he was hearing. The speakers went quiet for a while, but a series of slides flashed across the screen in front of him:
From Peter’s Gospel: “Who his own self bore our sins in his own body on the tree, that we, being dead to sins, should live unto righteousness: by whose stripes you were healed.
“Two thousand years ago, the Son of God was born as a man in Bethlehem. So sinful have men become that only a perfect sacrifice could cleanse us of our sins. No man could be a perfect sacrifice because all of us were sinners. Jesus Christ, the Son of God, became the perfect sacrifice to redeem us from death.”
The last slide depicted a single storey building with palatial gardens and a number of water features.
The woman began again, “This is what a self-sacrifice centre might look like, but we have plenty of time to perfect our plans.”
Nathan was not really looking at the architecture; he was more flabbergasted by what he had just heard.
As if his thoughts had been read, the woman spoke once again, an icy chill surrounding her tone. “You don’t seem convinced,” she said quietly. “We have done our homework, philosophically speaking.”
“I don’t doubt that,” Nathan said, almost to himself.
“Let me draw your attention once again to this slide,” she responded.
“The perfect sacrifice,” she said slowly, “let’s focus on that word sacrifice for a moment. Now, one might argue, philosophically, that Jesus, as the Son of God, set a train of events in motion that were inevitable, almost irreversible, as certain as a man jumping off a bridge, knowing that he will land on whatever is below him with the ensuing consequences. Gravity. And just so, in a similar fashion, Jesus set a train of events in motion that he knew would culminate in his death. So, in his case, Jesus, sacrifice or suicide, which is it?”
Nathan found himself clearing his throat, as if he had something to say.
“And what about Samson?” the man asked simply. The question hung in the silence.
“Sorry, what do you mean?” Nathan asked, suddenly realizing that he was expected to respond.
“I said what about Samson?” the man repeated. “When he destroyed the temple of Dagon, was that sacrifice or suicide?”
“I don’t know,” Nathan replied. “I have never given it much thought.” He paused. “Surely all monotheist religions forbid suicide. Isn’t it a mortal sin under the Catholic faith?”
“Yes, quite so,” the woman said quickly. “We are not calling it suicide. Philosophically, the Church created divine sanction to allow for Jesus’s actions, for his self-sacrifice; our prophets will do the same.”
“But will this be credible?” Nathan asked.
“Let me answer your question in two parts,” the man said. “These prophets will be healing people throughout their crusades: healing cancer, healing children, healing the rich and influential. Can you imagine such an impact? Furthermore, the three prophets will not be advocating self-sacrifice as their message; they will be receiving messages from God and acting upon them, instructions, just as the queen ant sends instructions to her workers, so the prophets will not question these commands as they will be unable to do so. You will have shut down those parts of their minds responsible for introspection, and, of course, for anyone doubting their credentials, they will lead by example: they will self-sacrifice.”
Nathan thought about what he had heard. “Are you suggesting that everyone should do this at thirty-three years old?” he asked, but then he thought about how stupid the question sounded and rubbed his hand across his jaw.
“It will be a choice; it will not be compulsory,” the woman added. “We think that some legislation will be likely, that governments will step in. We know that a sixty-five-year-old age threshold will meet our requirements, by way of population reduction over the next forty to fifty years.”
A third voice suddenly joined the conversation. It was an older voice, a leader’s voice, someone who had been listening, observing.
“Just get the first bit right, Nathan, the laboratory part; the rest will fall into place.”
2065, Las Vegas, An Anal Adventure
Brian sat and squinted at the huge screen dominating the conference hall as another set of dentures flashed across the whitewashed canvas, this particular set cradled on a shallow bed of dried sand so that it resembled an amorphous fossil sitting on a remote island, somewhere exotic. Brian had endured three days of dental and periodontal presentations, endless drilling techniques, bridging, caps, floss, and anaesthetics. Each speaker was characterized by an unconvincing earnestness to persuade the drab surroundings and the bored delegates that they were somehow breaking new ground — that teeth were more exciting than Hollywood, that flossing was perhaps, albeit at a stretch, as exciting as masturbation, and that the world’s future depended as much on oral health care as it did on global warming and associated self-sacrifice rates.
I am a dentist, Brian thought to himself. No, that’s not quite right, he corrected himself, I am a fucking dentist; no, I can do better, I am a fucking bored dentist; in fact, no again, I am forty-eight years old, I have spent most of my adult life looking into peoples’ mouths and it must be one of the most ridiculous ways to spend one’s short time on this planet.
