I withdraw teeth from tongue and get him moving again.
“Look. Experiments first conducted on board ship—were secret. They were testing natural regenerative compounds that individual creatures have. The kind able to regrow limbs or members previously dismembered. They tested with lizards-n-all? You know? Grab a lizard by the tail and it comes off. Defense mechanism. Then they grow another one. Get it?”
“Incomprehensible Once-Other,” he says and glances back at the table.
I firm my grip on his elbow and continue walking. “Patience. Long after the crash landings we developed preservatives into Bondo-stick-on. Okay?”
He frowns but waves me on.
“After applying Bondo-stick-on externally the blood semi-clots. You will bleed consistently but slower. Preservatives within sand or the atmosphere will already be inside you. These prevent excessive bleeding immediately you’re wounded. I’m talking slower bleeding via semi-clotting and the preservation of tissue in one action.”
“You’ve lost me,” he says.
We halt and I reply, “Okay. You apply Bondo-stick-on to the wound, press and hold the pre-owned in place. They bond together. Inject Bondo-stick-on into the blood stream. Okay? No. Ah? A little technical but...we all have a personal DNA. A blueprint in the chromosomes. Right?”
He nods yes.
“Excellent. Here’s how this works. Bondo-stick-on reads your current DNA code while spreading through your body and on finding a different DNA, goes to work. Pre-owned parts, of course, have the wrong DNA. Right?”
“Yeah. Good so far.”
“Quad-mitosis kicks alive in the pre-owned parts, the cells split into eight separate ones. Your actual DNA code gets embedded into the new cells as they split overwriting the old DNA. And so you get eight new cells—damn instantly.
“Ah. Yes. Regular mitosis is the action of a single cell splitting into two new cells. Where you had one, you now have two. Quad-mitosis means it happens four times. Four times two is eight new cells. Okay?”
“Yeah. Right. Thanks for the math lesson. Give me a moment here.”
He turns away, fights back a bout of gagging, wipes his mouth with a facial tissue, blows his nose and asks, “How does Bondo-stick-on figure the right code?” and he gags again.
“Ah yes! One needs to be real sure and inject Bondo-stick-on into an original body part. If you do it into a new part, it will read the new DNA as your DNA and convert your entire body to the DNA of the pre-owned.”
“That an issue?” he asks.
“Not unless being very dead is okay with you.”
He jerks back-n-forth as though attacking and retreating at the same time. He slowly calms but continues flexing his fingers as though he is at someone’s throat, which makes me shiver. I pull myself together, walk back and replenish my glass and without any for Peter, return.
“Well. Should pre-owned parts languish in stock too long, they’ll age like jerky and can’t or won’t jump-start and, of course, don’t work. Pre-owneds need be fresh with particular attention to heads being fresh.”
“Okay,” he says and wipes his mouth his eyes on my helping of water.
I take a sip. “Here’s what’s interesting. Some of us believe preservatives were at first conceived by Earth-Born politicians and manufactured in one awful and damned worthless experiment. We still figure that the experiments were an attempt to make us more equal, one to another or so they say. How stupid an idea—we are all equal?”
And he takes the bait full on.
“We are all equal,” he snarls.
“Not damn in our Here-Born Constitution and Bill of Rights,” I snap back at him.
His eyes roll over white and his knees give. I reach over and steady him. He straightens, pushes away and stares accusations and condemnations at me.
I sigh in deep satisfaction...here at last and across a sea of protest and sand. Foundation ahoy! It had taken a direct verbal assault upon him to shatter the emotional armor he has in place.
Now I’ll target his mind and find his hidden thoughts.
I sally forth.
CHAPTER 44
Of Equal Means Equal And Divide And Rule
“Now, Peter. On Here-Born it does say all people are created with equal Rights and are endowed by the Creator with certain Inalienable Rights. Among these are Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness.” I pause.
He waves me on.
“This includes the Right to defend one’s life or property. It also includes defense of family, friends, groups, community, possessions, neighborhood, city, village or town, County, State, Country, Planet and most valuable of all—one’s Sanity and that of others.
“The Right to be armed and able to defend yourself stands paramount.
“There are more inalienable Rights, or as some say, unalienable—the same thing—can’t be taken away—can’t be removed nor altered.”
He waves his hands in my face as to awaken the dead. “Lies. All you Here-Born citizens are equal.”
“No, Peter. Not even close. Listen!
“Our Founders examined this all people are equal thing and had certain misgivings and many questions. Example questions for you. Did God create us equally? On the other hand, does it mean we are all created equal one to another? Which one is it? These two are not the same idea.”
His face pales and he snarls, “You conceited fool. Where the hell do you get off?”
“Listen...I understand that long ago back on Earth-Born when you killed God by killing the belief in one and thereby that Rights come from God...you also killed a Constitution and Bill of Rights.
“That’s when The End is.
“For by that time, the Spirit of Man was long dead.”
“Moron!” he snarls.
A few seconds of silence and his face collapses in shock as I break down laughing.
“You find that funny? You think I’m so dumb this whole tour thing escapes me?”
“No. It’s just that with the moron insult being so popular amongst EB’s it seems you don’t know idiots by definition have a lower IQ than morons. So...calling someone a moron could be a compliment.” He may have been angry, but now he is apoplectic. He clenches his fists so tight both arms shake.
I drive harder at his Foundation. “People being equal one to another is impossible. Think on it. No two of anything nor anyone are exactly alike, let alone equal. Not even twins are equal. Get what I just said. One’s a moron the other an idiot. Equals not equal. Some live for government handouts others strive for personal success—not equal either.
“I’m taking into account equal by definition means well...equal and nothing else. You know? No? Okay. It means one is exactly the same as another! That’s what equal means—and nothing else.”
He tightens his fists further and grinds his teeth his head shaking as much as his fists.
“Easy, Peter and listen up. People cannot be legislated into being equal—not matter the lies saying it can be done. Now! Should you attempt to do so, it inevitably comes to pass that someone will set about the task of making us all equal.
“And if not willingly then forced to be equal.
“Also equal was never in the Bible nor any other religion. All people are equal, is a fond belief of Communists and all other Socialists.
“Now! Once they’re in power, they set about forcing others to believe it as well. But should you wish to pass on believing such...the Communists or their other names...Progressives, Liberals, Socialists will force you to believe it or kill you.
“Which if you care to note...being killed or tortured into believing or vanishing into a work camp never to be seen again...isn’t exactly equal despite that it is Communists doing it to you.”
“Impossible in a shared assets community,” he says.
“Doesn’t work, Peter. Equality is always promised as taking away from others what they worked for and giving it to those who have not worked for it. Always. Always. Always.”
“You’re pl
aying with words. We are all equal Once-Other.”
I wave that aside. “Giving the wealth and success of others to those who failed to earn it—terribly cruel.”
“Nothing evil about sharing the wealth of the few with those less fortunate. The wealthy must just suck it up and deal with it.”
“It’s a terrible cruelty to those receiving not to those having theirs taken away, Peter.”
His face flashes red then white then green...more-or-less. Between the varying colors he spits, “Your idiot ideas are wearisome. Time you shut up about this. I’ve had enough! I’m paying here!”
“May at first be difficult to understand.”
“No!” he spits.
“Seems to me that you don’t exactly know what a Communist Party that has gained power sets about doing. Their theory or system says that all property and wealth is owned by all the members of a classless society.
“So, first they confiscate all wealth in the name of the Party.
“And then the communists-slash-liberals-slash-progressives run the economy and political system of a country with absolute power. Extensive restrictions are enforced on personal liberties and freedom and individual rights are overruled by the collective needs of the masses.
“And! Who exactly decides on what the collective needs are? That would be the Committee, or Party or Dictator. Not exactly equal either. And! These committees most often don’t decide what a collective group needs…they instead decide what they don’t need.
“They don’t need cars, personal phones or handhelds, good clothes, shoes, food, a comfortable bed, children, income, love, nor a home.
“There one-two-three is the death of any society. Any!”
He taps his foot.
I sigh and change tactic. “Do you have a child?” I ask. He staggers backward as though shot through the forehead.
I change again at his unexpected reaction and lunge for his educational jugular. “Giving people something they have not earned forces them to depend upon government for everything, even to eat. That’s slavery. No one is more dependent on handouts than a slave.”
He pinches his nostrils closed and stares down at the floorboards. His pinky spasms. He grabs it and glances at all the restless fingers around us. I chuckle behind a straight face.
He waves me on and I ponder why he wants more—but briefly. Could it be I’m achieving the next step—the seeds of our Rights planted and ready to be nurtured?
I rush on. “An example of real help can be found in our prison system. But it only works upon and at each person’s self-determined request for that help. No matter the individual, no one can be forced to improve let alone to accept real help. Except of course under threat, pain, and or drugged. With those, you never end up with an active and proud individual.
“Real help is actions such as assistance in becoming educated and the learning and practicing of economically viable skills. Or there’s personal help that assists one with perception and the understanding of the various parts of life itself.”
“Criminals getting educated. Sure Once-Other—just as soon as Here-Born freezes the hell on over.”
I apply the wave off to his words. “On the other hand. Those who champion the poor but who don’t at the same time work to make them economically viable and valuable—have built for themselves a running platform upon the backs of the poor.”
He goes rigid, steps closer his eyes fixed on mine. Fires flare within his. I note far more hate than I can understand. What drives him? What gave birth to so much hate? I sigh deeply, longing for but a whisper of his thoughts, for but an instant of access to his mind. I try once more and nothing.
I quietly say, “And as time rolls by he’ll need more backs to stand on. This kind of champion gets trapped into needing more-n-more poor people who must also stay poor. And!
“How can anyone condemn those who are successful while the poor are improving and gaining greater success for themselves? So!
“To champion anything like the poor—poverty and neediness must be continued and or even nurtured. Here-Born logic for you.”
He folds his arms, steps closer and glares from six fingers away. “Logic of an ignoramus you mean.”
“If you like, Peter. But consider this—if education gets sabotaged so that the poor never get to understand their own Rights...who will they turn to, to explain those Rights? The very people who lead them…those who depend on them being and staying poor, uneducated and ignorant.
“Such leaders need them to remain poor and so they ensure poor folk never become properly educated and have no skills with which to make themselves economically valuable. And how would one ensure that condition for ones’ followers?
“Simple! Destroy school systems by making it impossible to understand or learn anything. Encourage drug use. Make Mental Health, recreational and psychiatric drugs freely available to those who will take them without question.
“Force others to take them via government regulations for so-called diseases like your ADD-D. Encourage all forms of drug usage. Drugged becomes mindless eventually.
“And all the while the redistribution of wealth provides recipients with just enough to survive on but in continued and eternal poverty. And not a penny more.
“At higher educational levels…teach falsely. Pervert education into guilt-driven theories and propaganda of the abuse of one group by another.
“Destroy individual thought and reason by making group think all.
“Now. That by any name is slavery. Okay. Okay. Calm down.”
He shudders but controls himself and says, “You really should shut-up about this Once-Other.”
“I hear you. But the idea that All people are equal was reasoned by our Founding Fathers to be an unworkable philosophy. But it’s a damn good idea if you want to replace natural birth with clones. How can one get closer to truly equal? With clones. They are much closer to being equal.”
He glares at me with the moron insult in his eyes and says, “What about employers who cheat their workers? Explain that one Once-Other!”
“That falls under criminal law. Not the Bill of Rights.”
“All are equal on Earth. Change the subject.”
“One last item. To be anywhere close to equal, all people must have the same salary, the same authority, the same position, the possessions...at the very least. What position in life should we choose for all People to be so as to be equal…that of President?
“Will each have equal power to command all the other three hundred million Presidents who are equal to each other? You see? We can’t have a single President because right there we would no longer be equal! How stupid do you have to be?”
“Shut-up,” he hisses.
“Okay,” I reply, think on it and ask, “Do you know why there’s no credit system on Here-Born?”
“No. And I don’t care.”
He turns his back on me and stares out the entrance to the distant desert. I check as well but other than sand and sky there’s nothing further to see.
Quietly I say, “If we the people have a credit system, it will come to pass that the Government will have credit as well.”
“Nothing wrong with a good credit system,” he counters.
I smile at the opening he presents. “Except when you can no longer pay the debt down. On EB, nations defaulted on their payments. Property, land and natural resources were awarded to foreign countries, the so-called debt holders, through International Courts.”
“Right Once-Other and perfectly reasonable. If you owe, you pay. If you default, you lose. It’s a matter of honor...of meeting your commitments. Of Neatness!” And he sniggers but catches it and controls himself.
“Yes. That’s also known as something else. Do you know what?”
“Would you just tell me? I don’t give a damn but tell me.”
“The redistribution of wealth. And how can that be? Simple. Borrow madly on behalf of your country. Sell your debt to other so-called poorer countries
. Default on your payment. They take action against your government to collect on the debt.
“Courts award them land, factories, buildings, property, businesses in payment of your debt. The foreign country now owns all that was your country...including all foreseeable taxes. And you’re done...your country and your personal wealth have been redistributed...by those you voted into office!”
He turns his cooling down. “You are an idiot. Get off this stuff.” I don’t but do note he’d downgraded my IQ.
“If you pay a foreign country interest you’re essentially paying taxes to a foreign government—one you have no representation in? And so they have power and sway over your country. Power and sway you have no vote in let alone a veto!”
His face turns bright red and purple well more-or...but his Nomadi buzzes breaking the moment. He pulls it out without taking his eyes off me, stalks out into the blazing sun and sand, answers, listens, turns and comes back with fists clenched his face a landscape of rage.
“Change the subject Once-Other!” he shouts.
“Well, okay. You now know something about Desert Drivers, Poip, preservatives, where all these pre-owned parts come from and a little about our Bill of Rights.”
He walks to a row of arms and touches one. Reduces the temperature of his cooling suit a trifle and caresses its control dial. “How many political parties are there?”
And I’m taken aback at this sudden change. Is he actually interested? Doubtful. Then why stay on the subject? Does he think there is something worth knowing? Or is this interest the opening move of his hidden agenda?
I sail onwards in the hope of discovering what and why.
“Political parties are illegal here.”
He jolts as though hit over the head with a rock.
“The divide and conquer concept is used by politicians to divide and rule.”
“People need to be ruled...all the time,” he says shaking his head.
“As you mentioned earlier, Peter, an idiot’s delight and without doubt that blows away your notion of all being equal. Now! Out here it’s common knowledge that people are easily controlled by two opposite ended political parties.
“Just generate enough hate between them. Follow that up with racial hatred, cultural hatred, class or income hatred by which time a country has pretty much been conquered.
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