Down the Psycho Path

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Down the Psycho Path Page 4

by Mandy White


  “I believe the gag order specifies that we’re forbidden to use knowledge gained while in their employ to further the exploits of other corporations… or some shit like that. Basically, it means we can’t divulge their trade secrets to their competitors.”

  “But what does it say about becoming a competitor yourself?”

  “Well, you can’t do that either, per se. Meaning that you can’t start a company and employ their knowledge in research and development of products similar to theirs. And of course, with all the regulations in the U.S. and FDA approval and all that shit, there’s no way you could do anything without the big M finding out.”

  “But you aren’t in the U.S.”

  “Bingo! I’m also not a competing corporation. I’m just a guy doing science projects in his back bedroom.”

  “But what happens when you try to bring… whatever this is… back into the U.S? You can’t get a patent based on someone else’s research.”

  “I’m not. This is all mine. Yeah, I learned a lot working in those laboratories, but they can’t regulate what’s inside my head. I developed this all on my own, and none of it resembles anything those assholes are doing.”

  “Somehow I think they’d find a way to claim it if they wanted it.” Sinead drained her cup. “Enough with the suspense. Let’s get to the part where you tell me exactly what you developed.”

  “To put it simply, it’s food. I have developed a line of revolutionary new food products. Trendy stuff. Vegan, gluten-free, all that shit. Not processed, but grown. The granola crowd will go nuts for it, pun intended.”

  “Like what?”

  “Bacon seeds, for one.”

  “Fuck off.”

  “Seriously. C’mon, I’ll show you.”

  Scott led the way to the lab-bedroom, where he opened a fridge at the far end of the row. Shelves with rows of fluorescent lighting filled the interior of the appliance. Sinead realized that it wasn’t being used for refrigeration, but as a sort of green house. Trays of small seedlings covered the first two shelves, and larger plants were housed on the lower racks. On closer inspection, Sinead recognized the leaves.

  “Corn? You’re growing corn in a refrigerator.”

  “Not just corn.” Scott closed the door and opened another, a couple of fridges down the row. Inside were cobs covered with a substance Sinead couldn’t identify. She looked at Scott for clarification. He grinned.

  “I give you…” he tapped his fingers on the door, simulating a drum roll. “Bacon on the cob!”

  “Bullshit.”

  “I shit you not.” He removed one of the cobs from the shelf and held it up to the light. “It grows just like this. All you have to do is cook it.”

  Tiny pale rolled-up buds covered the cob. He took one in his fingers and unrolled it, revealing to Sinead what appeared to be an ordinary slice of bacon. The grain of the meat, the fat, the color – all nearly perfect. It was perhaps a bit too uniform, like the vegan fake-bacon sold in stores, but it looked close enough to pass for the real thing. Sinead slid her fingers over it and gasped at the greasy texture.

  “It feels real!” she whispered.

  “It is real. Pretty cool, huh?”

  “It’s edible?”

  “Hell yeah! Just like the real deal. It’s delicious, low in calories, high in protein. Gluten-free, too. It’s grown, not raised. Nothing gets slaughtered.” He chuckled. “Except for the plant, of course.”

  “So it’s vegan, too.”

  “As vegan as a corn cob. Sure, I had to make a few modifications, and maybe there is some pig DNA in there, but that’s science. Ever wonder why vegans always seem so angry? I know I’d be pretty miserable in a life without bacon. They taste this, maybe they won’t be so angry, huh?”

  “Wow. This is amazing. If it’s as good as you say, and it gets approval… you could be sitting on a gold mine here. But what if the FDA doesn’t approve it?”

  “They will eventually. I’ll start growing it here. Americans will get wind of it after a few thousand tourists get a sample. Get the right billionaire to back it and badda-bing! Suddenly the FDA won’t have a problem with us bringing it into the U.S. And of course they will want it produced there, to corner the market.”

  Scott moved to another fridge. “The Bacorn is just the start of it. I also have KFG, but still working the bugs out of it.”

  “KFG?”

  “Working title. Stands for Kentucky Fried Garbanzos. Modified chick-pea with eleven herbs and spices bred in. But it’s a magnet for fruit flies. Like I said, still working the bugs out.”

  Sinead peered into the fridge. Pod-shaped crispy golden brown clumps hung from scrawny vines. A cloud of small black flies rose toward her face and as she waved them away her nostrils caught a delicious savory aroma.

  “It smells like…it’s already cooked!”

  “Yeah, I think this one is going to be a winner, but it’s not ready yet. We also have the Hamkins, which will require a bit more growing space than I have here, on account of the vines.”

  Sinead reached to touch one of the pods and something moved behind the plants. She jumped back with a little scream.

  “Oh, don’t worry about him. That’s just Leonard.” Scott reached into the fridge and coaxed the gecko onto his hand. “He helps me with pest control. He loves the fruit flies.”

  Sinead concluded her tour of Scott’s refrigerators with a promise to consider his offer. She accepted his business card, which simply read: Scott Cameron – Innovations in Eating, and an email address.

  As much as she hated to admit, his offer was tempting. She’d spent all her professional life working for others, following instructions. This project of Scott’s was something new and refreshing. It stimulated both her scientific and creative sides. Breaking new ground by designing never-before-seen products… it was why she had become a scientist. It had endless potential. It could end world hunger, if the plants were hardy enough. If she took Scott’s offer, she would make him see the big picture. If plant-based meats could be engineered to grow on barren land, entire countries could be saved. Appeasing angry vegans was merely a bonus.

  * * *

  In the end, Sinead dodged a bullet. Her decision not to join Scott’s research “team” turned out to be a wise one. Scott did not get FDA approval for his products. It turned out people had an aversion to eating genetically engineered meat, even if it was grown organically. Supposedly “health-conscious” people preferred to eat substances processed in factories from unknown ingredients than something they could grow in their own gardens.

  Stymied by legal channels, Scott brought his products into the U.S. illegally and grew them in secret. The problem was, he couldn’t mass-market any of it without giving up the secret of their origin. He marketed the stuff as manufactured corn-based products and sold them at hippie festivals and farm markets, but eventually the FDA caught up with him. When they raided his greenhouses, the scandal broke internationally.

  What they found… Sinead wasn’t surprised, given Scott’s mental state at the time of his arrest.

  There were the Hamkins he’d mentioned, growing on vines like pumpkins. They looked like a whole pig, minus the innards. The torso was solid; savory, smoky meat all the way through.

  The KFG had evolved from fried chicken pods into whole pre-seasoned chickens, which solved the pest problem by feeding on the bugs themselves. The disturbing part was that the “chicken” had the head of a gecko.

  There were other things, the media declined to mention all of them, but Sinead heard through a source in the scientific community that beef and lamb had been involved as well.

  The public was outraged, and of course the ethical argument made headlines: Were they plant or animal? Did they have consciousness? More importantly, was this food truly vegan? Scott argued that it was, since it was plant-based.

  Sinead was shocked when they announced the charges, which were not at all what she had expected.

  Scott was charged with two offence
s:

  The first was violation of FDA regulations by creating and selling unapproved food substances. For that, he received a fine and probation.

  The second was more serious, and it involved a lawsuit levied by their previous employer, Evergreen Research. Scott was charged with theft of intellectual property and breach of the gag order he had signed upon his departure.

  Evergreen accused him of stealing the formulas for his products from their company. Their lawyers stated they were prepared to provide proof in a court of law that those exact products had been created in their laboratories years earlier, prior to his employment there.

  Mesachie Man

  Trevor shifted the Jeep into third gear and accelerated. “Pass those beers around, bitches! We are officially off-road now!”

  The road to Port Renfrew was a paved public road, but technically it was also a logging road, which created a grey area where the law was concerned. They could still get busted for drinking and driving, but the odds of meeting a cop out there were next to nil.

  The Tall Trees Music Festival didn’t start for another three days. By leaving early, they planned to avoid the traffic and inevitable police presence on the normally deserted road. They would lay claim to a prime camp spot and be all set up by the time the crowds arrived.

  “This is going to be sweet! Three days of music, sunshine and partying!” Cassie handed Trevor a beer and taking a second one for herself. Cassie’s best friend Nina Charlie was in charge of the refreshments. She sat cross-legged in the middle of the back seat, between her boyfriend Gordon and a cooler full of beer. The cargo space of the Jeep overflowed with camping gear. Coolers were stacked in the space beside Nina for easy access.

  The road from Mesachie Lake to Port Renfrew wound through nearly sixty kilometres of scenic wilderness. There were no houses, stores or gas stations, and limited amenities in the tiny towns at either end. Every year, thousands of hipsters converged on the small seaside community of Port Renfrew to listen to live music and “commune with nature” at the Tall Trees Festival. “Communing”, for some, consisted of getting wasted on drugs and alcohol and passing out in their own filth. Paramedics were on-site around the clock and the first-aid tent was well-equipped with overdose kits.

  The musky aroma of cannabis drifted from the back seat.

  “Pass that up here, Gordo!” Cassie said, turning in her seat to take the joint from Gord. She inhaled deeply and then held the joint to Trevor’s lips. He sucked a lungful of the sweet smoke and then sputtered, trying to keep from coughing.

  “Zmooth,” he croaked. The four of them busted up laughing. Everything was suddenly a lot funnier.

  They crossed a bridge over a deep ravine. A jade-green river snaked between the cliffs below.

  “Gosh, it’s so pretty,” Cassie said, looking down. “Hard to believe nobody lives out here.” She had lived in the city all her life, and had never seen any place so utterly unoccupied.

  “This is the real deal, baby! Real Canadian wilderness. I promised you an adventure, didn’t I?” Trevor reached over to caress the front of Cassie’s blouse, then leaned in for a kiss. The Jeep swerved, and Cassie recoiled with a gasp.

  “Hey! Watch what you’re doing!” she slapped his shoulder lightly. “Keep your eyes on the road and your hands off my tits!”

  “I got it. Don’t worry, I grew up driving these roads.” Trevor gripped the wheel and glared at the road, embarrassed at being spurned in front of their friends.

  “Fuck! How do people get here without a truck? This is crazy rough!” Cassie said.

  “Most of them come from Victoria. The road through Sooke is better. That’s where most of the crowds will come from. Only us redneck types take the back way,” Nina told her.

  Trevor jerked the wheel to the left and veered off the pocked pavement of the main road onto a narrow gravel road.

  “You guys are going to love this. We have two days to kill and I’m going to treat you to one of Cowichan’s best kept secrets. There’s a little lake up here where we can camp, rave, fish and swim, and best of all, we’ll have the whole place to ourselves.”

  Nina and Gord high-fived each other and whooped.

  “Sweet!” Nina squealed. “I haven’t been to Lost Lake in forever!”

  Trevor laughed. “See? My girl Nina knows what I’m talking about!”

  They were climbing now, and the road had degraded to the gravel equivalent of a moguled ski hill. Trevor downshifted and put the Jeep into four-wheel drive. The vehicle bucked and bounced, turning their beer to foam.

  “How much farther?” Cassie asked.

  “Shouldn’t be long now,” Trevor said, steering around an outcropping of rock. “Pretty soon you’ll see a little slice of paradise.”

  The Jeep bucked down the road for some distance, then the front wheel dropped into a large pothole with a loud BANG. The force of the impact hurtled them forward. An avalanche of tents and sleeping bags buried the occupants of the back.

  “Ow!” Cassie rubbed her chin, which she had bumped on the dash. Luckily they hadn’t been traveling very fast.

  Trevor killed the engine. “Everyone okay?” He turned to see Gord and Nina emerging from a pile of camping gear.

  “Yeah, bro, we’re cool. But that didn’t sound good. Sounded like something broke.”

  “Yeah. Gonna check it out now.” Trevor got out of the Jeep and Gord followed. The girls joined them.

  “Looks like a broken axle.” Trevor and Gord squatted beside the front wheel, which twisted sideways at an impossible angle.

  “What does that mean?” Cassie asked, “Can you fix it?”

  “It means we’re fucked,” Nina said.

  “Yep,” Gord agreed. “This beast needs a tow truck.”

  Cassie rushed to the vehicle to retrieve her phone.

  Trevor chuckled and shook his head, glancing up at the treetops. “Oh, honey, you’re so cute. There’s no signal out here.”

  “WHAT? No, there has to be some bars somewhere. We’ll take a walk until we find a signal.”

  “There’s nothing.”

  “What about at the festival grounds? We can’t be that far from there. We could walk.”

  “We’re about halfway. It’s about thirty clicks to civilization in either direction. Plus, we’re another five or six from the main road”

  “So we can walk it if we have to.”

  “Yes, but not now. It’s going to be dark in a couple of hours. You do not want to be out here in the dark.”

  “But somebody’s bound to come by. What about the festival crowd?”

  “They won’t start coming through here for at least another day or two. And they will be on the main road. Nobody’s going to come up this way. Besides, we will have gotten a tow truck by then.”

  Cassie shivered, realizing the truth of what he was saying. They were stranded in the middle of nowhere, at least for the night.

  “Your call, friendos. Do we hike to the lake, or camp here?”

  Gord and Nina were already pulling camping gear out of the back of the Jeep.

  “I vote we hike to the lake,” Nina said. “We were going there anyways. Might as well go ahead with the plan and enjoy our adventure, we came this far. At least we’ll have plenty of water there.”

  “Seconded.” Gord looked at Trevor. “Bro?”

  “Yeah. I’m up for a hike. The lake is way nicer than the side of the road.”

  Cassie huddled close to her boyfriend. She was nervous about leaving the relative safety of the vehicle, broken as it was, but it was obvious she didn’t have a say.

  They stuffed their backpacks with camping supplies, which included as much food and booze as they could carry, leaving the coolers behind. They set out down the dusty road, laden like pack mules.

  The four friends arrived at the lake within the hour. The setting sun painted the treetops with majestic golden hues, but down below darkness crept over the forest floor. Cassie fought panic with every step, but there was no turnin
g back. Finally they stepped out of the woods into a small clearing surrounding the glistening green gem that was Lost Lake.

  “It’s so pretty! she breathed, in both awe and relief at being free from the creepy forest.

  The group shrugged off backpacks and began to unpack.

  Gord tossed a tent to Trevor. “We might as well set up right away. We’re here for the night.”

  Trevor nodded. “Yeah, we are. We can walk out to the main road in the morning and catch a ride to call a tow truck. There won’t be time to fix the Jeep, but with any luck we can borrow something else to drive and still make the festival.”

  * * *

  The four friends sat around a crackling fire under a starry, moonlit sky. With the abundance of beers and joints, it felt almost like a regular camping trip. If they’d reached their destination as planned, the scene wouldn’t have differed much, except they would have had the Jeep and its booming stereo to scare away whatever lurked in the darkness.

  Cassie had never been camping before, except for road trips in her parents’ RV. Those trips had always been to campsites with showers and electrical hookups. Sometimes even swimming pools. She couldn’t understand why her friends seemed so comfortable in such rustic surroundings.

  She’d had to pee for hours, and didn’t know what to do about it.

  Nina stood and pulled a small flashlight from her pocket. “Back in a minute. Gotta use the ‘facilities’.”

  “Wait!” Cassie said. “Can I go with you?”

  Nina shrugged. “Sure, c’mon.”

  Cassie followed Nina away from the campsite, into a small grove of trees. She wondered what happened next.

  Her eyes widened in horror as Nina squatted next to a tree, then pulled some tissue from her pocket.

  She couldn’t possibly… but there were no other options.

  Noticing her hesitation, Nina said, “You want me to wait for you?”

  “Yes, please. It’s so dark out here. You got any more of that tissue?”

  * * *

  The girls were almost back to camp when a bloodcurdling shriek pierced the darkness.

 

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