Patient Zero

Bob and TARS met outside the CosWalSmart&FinalDestination station which was fittingly, the end of the green line rail. This allowed for multiple inbound lines to terminate and dump masses of shoppers as needed swiftly and safely out of the MegaRetailMart.

The giant box structure had been grown under large tarps as fungus spores. The brown honey fungus walls had been fed by large tubs of unused “nacho cheese” that had been unused for centuries after the anti-death pill was ruled ineffective against semi-food plastic like solids that had been marketed as cheese versus a possible adhesive. The modified honey fungus loved plastic and was happy to find more to consume from the vast plastic strategic supply left behind by our ancestors’ use of disposable plastic for nearly every damn possible usage without fail for at least 100 years or more.

The two humanoids walked inside the store and a somewhat dazed looking man said, “Welcome to CosWalSmart&FinalDestination. Please find peace in our store.”

TARS laughed and said, “Man, what an idiot.”

Bob kicked TARS in the backside and it was sharp, “I’m sorry TARS, but that’s quite wrong, or at least, if you’re going to work with me, we must talk this out right now. Please be patient, but this is so very important to us and our work. My parents taught me this via thousands of individual actions and decisions. I was able to see this and see the value of what I need to tell you now. You’ve only been present for days now and it’s understandable why you just did what you did, but now we’re going to correct this, OK?”

TARS apologized and both humanoids walked to a corner to talk. TARS felt the world disappear somehow and only Bob and he remained. There was nothing else now but TARS and Bob.

Bob spoke with calm, but deeply felt words, “People are not idiots, TARS. Every human being who has ever existed has so much intrinsic shared value that the relative differences between us are noise. Every person deserves respect for being the same thing as what we are and you mimic. There are no idiots, TARS. There are people whose meat has been affected with whatever this world has thrown at it. TARS, I have never met a person that deserves to be called an idiot. Yes, it feels good to say it when something idiotic comes from a person, but that’s just you venting about the thing that happened and the person who caused it. Every idiotic decision comes from confused and scared meat. We are the product of endless generations and we are now the ultimate version of what was systematically selected by the cruelty of the world as it is. As such, our meat is reactive and often selfish because the truly altruistic of our species were eaten by saber tooth tigers when they tried to make friends.”

TARS said, “Thank you, Bob. I didn’t stop to really think about this. I’m not sure I agree with it all, but I’ll think about it as well.”

Bob smiled and continued, “That’s exactly right TARS. This is my position and you should make your own. The most important thing is to be ready to be wrong. Being wrong about something doesn’t make you wrong or bad or lesser. There are people who, for no fault of their own, are less intelligent than others. This means they often will misinterpret information or have issues learning as fast as others. The sad case is where someone feels like this makes them less important somehow or less useful or just less. This is as absurd as feeling blue about yourself for not having blue eyes. Yes, it would be cool to have cool colored eyes, but it didn’t happen and certainly, I do not remember setting up my character’s avatar for this game I am playing now with you, TARS. I landed in this meat and it’s also me. I am this. The world threw this at my meat and I’m now this plus that. My agency is part of me, but a big part of who and what I am was settled in the giant pachinko machine that puts identities into bodies. So, all in all, TARS try. Be gloriously wrong but don’t be afraid of it. Be ready to change when it’s clear that you’re wrong and that’s exactly right.”

TARS absorbed Bob’s words as the rest of the universe returned, “Thank you again, Bob. I’ll think about all of this. Let’s get back to the case and I won’t repeat myself again in your presence at least.”

Bob said, “Perfect, let’s see if we can find New Coke in here or see if he might have been here lately.”

The two humanoids walked up to a group of people watching another man with, what appeared to be, a huge machine dedicated to destroying whatever was placed inside. The man had a small nametag on that said “Speedy”

Speedy spoke to the addicted in front of him, “So, watch this now. Take a pear, an apple, a banana, and some loose grass from the yard for some greens in here.” Speedy tossed said ingredients into what appeared to be an execution chamber for vegetation. There were any number of deadly looking knives at the bottom. Bob held his breath when Speedy turned on the switch.

The machine roared to life. The fruit had zero chance and did not put up a fight. Then, the fruit were one and a fruit borg replaced their identities with their new mechanized selves in perfect order. Even after their submission to their fate, the smooth mixture kept moving in their ode to Charybdis.

The machine’s noise was deafening but Speedy needed to talk over it for some reason, “SEE HOW EASILY IT CAN MAKE A SMOOTHIE! WATCH HOW IT JUST PULVERIZES THE FRUIT INTO PURE MONOSLURRY! YOU CAN JUST SLURP UP ALL THIS NUTRITION VIA A STRAW AT YOUR DESK.”

Bob found this confusing as if you wanted slurry to drink for some reason (Bob liked to use his teeth when eating), well, just knit slurry? Why execute the raw ingredients? I mean, he appreciated when Salote made food by hand, but this didn’t seem the same?

A nearby addict mumbled, “Yes. I need this thing. I need more things.” The addict looked down at the blini machine, the nose picker, the elbow wax, the machined steel drinking straws, the mini fishing pole, the fish allergy remedy, the dog boxing ring, the dancing robot that sings “take me back to the factory” when you push the button, the cubic meter of bulgogia, etc. and asked her additional arms to carry the new blender bag she purchased.

Bob whispered to TARS, “I think this is just your normal object addiction. Nothing unusual here. When things were scarce, people needed to hoard things in case things ran out. Houses were stuffed to the gills with things, as you needed to both acquire and keep things. Now that we just build what we need, when we need it, and recycle the substrate? Now that we have nearly unlimited energy due to fusion and renewables? There’s no need to hold on to anything that doesn’t have an emotional value to you. However, I think these people need this machine as, well, it will have emotional value for them. Let’s move on and see what else is going on.”

TARS looked at the massive quantities of things that were here at CosWalSmart&FinalDestination that were stacked up. He noted to Bob how much was already built. TARS saw the nearly kilometer of shelves filled with any number of appliances that didn’t seem to be needed, foods that could be knitted, refrigeration to hold things that would “spoil”, machines to print paper instead of glass, machines to print paper far away instead of ether, machines to show video and only that, machines to take pictures only, machines to mow a lawn instead of asking an arm, bottles of fluids, candy, cookies, sand, dirt, and finally, a place for pets to shit in.

Bob, now that they were out of earshot of the vegetable multilator demo, said in a normal voice, “Yes. The construction of things needed massive factories and workers in those factories. The human capital and actual physical work was enormous. As such, people’s entire survival is bound to the consumption of these things. This is not a metaphor, TARS. If these things aren’t purchased, people’s lives are at risk. If you can’t produce in this world, well, the world often would say that you simply cannot have anything. As cruel as it was, it was the cruelty imposed by the situation, TARS. This world needed so much work to get where it was. So much co-ordinated effort that I am still amazed we are here now with the world that we do.”

Bob and TARS found another group of people in the maze of things. Someone was also selling a product, but this woman actually had nothing to sell in front of her. She just stood in front of what appeared to be a photo of an average set of condos in front of some body of water near a golf course. She was in the middle of her pitch, “You see here everybody, you’ll own property in one of the most beautiful places on earth. Your unit, for a whole two weeks every year, is yours. You simply continue to pay me forever and this now belongs to you. You can hand this down to your children as a gift. Imagine spending every holiday in your favorite vacation spot. Why go to another place and be disappointed? This is the same great vacation on a continual loop of contracted spending.”

An addicted raised a hand, “Can I do the same things each time I visit?”

The saleswoman smiled, “Not only can you; I can guarantee it, if you sign today.”

Another asked, “Are there any chances I might see something new?”

The saleswoman smiled, “Well, after the first awkward-getting-to-know-ya visit? There’s no chance these trips will affect you in any meaningful way. You just stop working and do, I don’t really know, but do you not working, but here. Be the same you, the same person, and almost not leave home at all, but be in paradise the whole time!”

The crowd murmured their approval.

Another asked, “Is there soccer, barbeque, and something mild to watch later?”

The saleswoman leaned forward, “Life is soccer, barbeque and mild entertainment. Why would paradise be different?”

Bob nudged TARS and noted, “Yes. I’ve studied this pattern. It’s a bit sad, but some people really just want to do the same things over and over again. The only bit that I really hate about this is the deception that it requires. Owning an obligation to spend money is not an asset; however, people were convinced it was. They felt they were investing their money instead of just simply agreeing to spend it here on a regular basis. Maybe they really liked the condo and this was as close as they could come to having it for themselves? Nevertheless, even back when things were scarce, getting a hotel reservation wasn’t really a problem, and discounts were given if you were a repeat customer? So, most folks now consider this to be an SI now.”

TARS evaluated and noted, “5.4 + 2i megaidiotum. A good portion of this is imaginary as I review her materials.”

Bob and TARS moved on as this was just a typical addictive behavior and nothing special. In the distance, both men could see a much larger and more animated demo. They moved forward to see what was happening.

A man in a very red outfit stood next to another man in a polar bear costume that seemed very realistic. There was a very excited and large group of people with small cups of a brown liquid.

Bob said to TARS, “This is it. New Coke isn’t here, or at least, I can’t see him, but he’s been here. The polar bear is a giveaway. I’m surprised he’s so bold. Let’s watch and see. Maybe we can tease out where he is or figure out what he’s after.”

As the polar bear danced, the man offered a stream of information to his collected leads, “This is the beverage for you and your fun, active and healthy lifestyle. You shouldn’t drink very much, but man, will you ever WANT to! Folding your laundry by hand for some incomprehensible reason? Do it with Coke! Coke makes life bubbly and fun! Fast and refreshing and goes with anything you eat! Like, it gets even better when you’re eating and drinking Coke with your family. We all share Coke as a common experience that brings family together. Like a fun dancing polar bear in your wildest bubbly dreams of pure self satisfaction, your most cherished dreams should have a Coke in your hands to make it all true.”

Bob and TARS eavesdropped as the addicted talked to each other about their experiences. The voices murmured without any particular source.

“I just love this new cola. I have cases of it at home. Just yesterday, I put all my arms back in the closet and shaved all our cats by hand before making some pottery with clay I dug from my back yard! Man, this little taste of Coke in this tiny sample makes me want a big ’un. Man, I wish the old 7-11 was here and I could make a SupremeIncrediblyHugeAndUnwieldyGlup with extra ice. Have you ever had a nice salami sandwich without an anti-death before; just feels right with a Coke in your hand. I could just drink Coke all day but my husband says the children are tired of playtime and would like some sleep. Well, if my kids can’t keep up with me, I hand ’em a Coke cause we’re family and I care. Yep, that works for me too. I asked if the school could get rid of the water option and just offer Coke. The kids play so much faster and with such new intensity that I can’t thank Coke enough for the extra zip in their steps.”

Bob whispered to TARS, “OK. Yeah, it’s clear that New Coke is behind this. Don’t let any of the brown liquid near your mouth. I’d get a sample, but we don’t have the right PPE here. Let’s try to corner the bear and maybe get some information from him.”

TARS nodded and they made their way over behind where the bear was dancing. TARS tapped the bear’s snowy shoulder to get his attention. The animal’s head snapped around and it stared at the two humanoids from high above.

Bob, who knew TARS was far more deadly than any number of bears, was not rattled, and he offered, “Hey guy? Got a dead seal back here? You hungry?”. TARS grabbed what appeared to be nine cubic feet of GennedSeal nearby in the seal meat section.

The bear looked at them and said, “Seal? Yeah, I could go for some seal right now. Let me get a Coke.”

TARS held up the meat cube to entice the bear over. The bear managed to walk on hind legs and hold a strange shaped bottle of the brown liquid. TARS tossed the meat at its feet. The bear ate hungrily and the red, raw bundle was slowly getting smaller under bites and licks of a rough tongue.

“Mmmm. Kinda gamey for seal, but the Coke is keeping it real for me. Thanks fellas. Why the kindness?” the bear managed to say between mouthfuls of raw seal recently made by a flesh-jet.

Bob asked, “No problem, bear? Is it bear or do you have another name?”

“I’m Carlito and you are?” said the bear looking up from his meal briefly. He was too hungry to get up to offer a paw for a hand-paw-shake.

Bob said, “Hi Carlito! I am Bob and this is TARS. We’re concerned about this new product and its safety. Do you know where it is coming from?”

Carlito darkened and said, “What’s it to you, Bob? Coke is great. See all those very happy people over there? I helped make them happy. Go paint or something.”

Bob offered, “Coke can be great, but do people know what they’re doing when they drink it? That the only real issue. What’s in this thing? Is it OK for me to drink? What tradeoffs am I making when I decide to drink it? Do you think that’s a fair thing for them to know before drinking it?”

Carlito sneered and said, “Of course, and all of that is right here. It’s at a URL that people can visit before they drink any of this, Bob: https://dke.sdk.dkuf23848/tekd.hmtl?option=hack&default=truthOffToOn”

TARS managed to catch the URL and visited. Twenty thousand small words appeared in the rendering. The words and phrases used in the document needed careful crossindexing and there were often very complex sentence constructions that left TARS uncertain about everything involved versus certain of anything safe. As Carlito promised, it was very clear that this was a substance that should be carefully consumed if at all.

TARS pressed, “Yes. This information is very valuable and reads as if a machine produced it. I hope others consume it with assistance as it would take meat hours to understand and process this all. I’m not sure I actually fully understand this as many of the words used are uselessly old for some reason. ‘Heretofore’ or ‘Thusly’ come to mind. Everyone gets a strange nickname like CONSUMING_PERSON_OF_LITTLE_WORTH and THE_MASTER_COMPANY_YOU_NOW_SERVE.”

Bob then appealed to the bear, “Carlito, you know this isn’t the way. We can do better. If people want New Coke, fine, but let’s make sure they really know what this is, then, if they want it, they want it. I bet we could get the idea to the knitters and maybe anti-death can hold the effects to a minimum or eliminate them entirely”

Carlito stopped his eating and looked at his red paws. The bear looked over to the two humanoids.

He softly offered, “Will I have to wear a wire?”