The Man Who Sold His Son (Lanarkshire Strays)

by Mark Wilson

  4

  Alex closed the door of Thomas’s room and leaned against it for a second. He’d spoken over and over again to his son about how worried he’d been when Thomas had disappeared with Gavin Ennis that afternoon. Tommy said all the right things to assure his dad that it wouldn’t happen again, but Alex could tell from his body language that his son thought that he hadn’t done anything wrong and was just telling him what he wanted to hear. This meant that Thomas would likely make the same choice again, given a similar situation, and this made Alex nervous. There was little point in pushing him further, though. Tommy had made his mind up and Alex would just have to trust that he’d listen to him.

  Continuing along the hallway, Alex gently pushed the door to his and Sarah’s room open and peeked inside. She was sprawled across the entire bed, fully clothed and in a deep vape-induced sleep. One less thing to worry about tonight, Alex thought to himself, before descending the stairs to the kitchen.

  After making a coffee, he perched himself on the nearest stool. An infrequent coffee drinker, the intense hit refreshed his weary mind almost instantly. Alex enjoyed the new clarity for a second before reaching for his Holo-Net tablet. Propping the tablet on the breakfast bar, Alex pressed a soft key on the edge of the device. The tablet resembled a very thin picture frame but with an empty space where the glass and photograph would normally sit. Very light, the frame was designed to fold to credit-card size.

  Upon pressing the soft key, the frame immediately flashed into life, a vivid high definition Holo-image of the family filling the empty space of the frame. Alex pressed softly at the corner of the image and it changed to a traditional-looking desktop, which is what Alex liked to work from. Selecting the Holo-Net icon, Alex watched a Holo-Keyboard slide out from the bottom of the frame and began searching the Holo-Net for information on Gavin Ennis. Hours later, he’d selected a dozen or so blogs, news articles, opinion pieces and company reports from the hundreds of articles he’d found on Mr Gavin Ennis. Alex was determined to find something to justify the unease he’d felt when Gavin placed his arm around Thomas.

  Business Insider

  Gavin Ennis today issued a share option to his five hundred thousand staff. The generous package rewards staff at all levels, from janitorial to boardroom, a quarterly bonus in shares in return for their hard work and contribution to the company. The effectiveness of the employee’s service within the company will determine how many shares each employee is rewarded with.

  In a statement announcing the scheme, Mr Ennis stated,

  “We want every lab technician, scientist, executive, mailroom operative and accountant in our firm to be valued equally and have equal opportunity to receive equal shares issued. With this in mind, these bonuses will be decided by a sliding scale which takes into account the effectiveness, efficiency and loyalty of each individual’s specific role. Simply put, if our janitor works his ass off and one of our executives under-achieves, our janitor will go home with more shares than the exec.”

  The scheme is yet another example of why Mr Ennis has been our Business Person of the Year three years in a row and Europe’s Employer of the Year for the last five years. Mr Ennis’s proactive approach to business management and investment in his staff at all levels is impressive.

  Alex tapped the corner of the article and brought the next few articles to the front of the Holo-Screen.

  Time Magazine

  Gavin Ennis is our kinda guy!

  Daily China Gazette

  Ennis continues to forge global links, driving forward his mission to bring low-priced, high-quality reproductive healthcare to citizens of every country.

  The Scotsman

  Gavin Ennis continues to fly the Saltire.

  New Scientist

  Ennis’s contribution to and continued developments in reproductive health place him in the upper echelons of the scientific elite. That he shares his ideas so freely and his services so cheaply is to his credit.

  Tiring of reading, Alex brought up a Holo-Tube documentary that nicely summarised Ennis’s contribution to the Synthi-sperm sector and gestured a command to start the presenter speaking.

  “In 2025 the World Health Organisation published a report on the diminishing reproductive capabilities of the world’s male population. Sperm quality and quantity in the ‘of breeding age’ demographic had fallen to levels previously unknown. The WHO report presented convincing evidence which suggested that the drastic and irreversible decline in reproductive function was most likely the result of an accumulation of three generations’ use of hormone-based contraception, as well as some other unknown elements. The report suggested that the effects on our physiology and genetics of high levels of progesterone and oestrogen in our drinking water had instigated a permanent change in human physiology.

  “By 2030 only one in a hundred thousand couples globally could reproduce without medical assistance. Quality sperm had rapidly become the most expensive substance in the history of humankind, until a small lab named Synthi-Co in Wales, founded by Mr Gavin Ennis, perfected the technique for producing healthy artificial sperm from skin cells.

  “By 2050, most babies were the result of IVF using the now ubiquitous Synthi-sperm. Whilst children conceived by the synthetic method demonstrated a slightly reduced capacity for learning and were significantly more docile than the much rarer Randoms, the choice of physical characteristics available to the parents when designing the Synthi-sperm, which would become their child, offset any worries they may have had about their child being a little mild-mannered.

  “It had become fashionable to use Synthi-sperm and a significant portion of the small minority who could conceive ‘naturally’ frequently chose to use Synthi-sperm anyway, rather than take a gamble on which characteristics their offspring might inherit. There were now fewer than 0.5 percent of humans under the age of twenty years old in the global population who’d been conceived by ‘traditional means’, and were generally referred to as Randoms, a reference to their relatively random conception and the formation of their physical characteristics.

  “Whilst a generation of more desirable designer children now existed, ambition, competition and will to succeed seemed mostly absent in the Synthi-kids and this new generation was much more content and much less aggressive than any that had come before.

  “The world of 2055 is a much more peaceful place to live in, but discrimination and prejudices do still exist. The Randoms have become somewhat of an underclass. Parents of Randoms worry about their child’s career prospects and take care to hide their child’s status from their peers. Many have begun to purchase illegal documents to falsely validate their child; to certify them as being of the new breed of children. The parents of Synthi-kids take comfort in knowing that they’ve given their offspring the best possible start in life.

  “Recently there have been rumours of defects in the Synthi-kid genome, but most parents have faith that the governments will provide their local geneticists with the new skills and techniques to iron out any flaws. They believe that they are in good hands and trust their reproductive health professionals.

  “Mr Ennis has been quick to reassure his patients that Synthi-kids are indeed the healthiest and most advantaged children our society has ever produced. He has also dedicated his vast resources to founding community assistance for the so-called Randoms, stating that ‘No British child, no matter how deficient their start in life, should ever be discriminated against.’ His outlook and defence of human rights proved popular with the British public, leading to a call for a government position to be created for Mr Ennis. The Scottish government moved quickly, making Mr Ennis a national Tsar of sorts for reproductive and mental health in Scotland. The British government is widely expected to match the offer, despite pushing ahead with new legislation that would force all Randoms to register with their local authority.”

  The report went on for another hour but Alex had gotten what he needed. Frowning, he closed all of his active screens. Seems our M
r Ennis – pardon me. Gavin – is a bit of a saint. A super-wealthy saint, but a saint none the less.

  In his research, Alex hadn’t discovered anything to suggest that Gavin Ennis was other than what he appeared to be. A very kind, very hard-working and very rich businessman. Gavin Ennis had built his global corporation on the back of the success of his little Welsh company that had developed the first Synthi-sperm.

  Aged sixty-five, Ennis had accumulated the money he’d initially invested in Synthi-Co by running a small science lab that he’d set up after graduating with an unremarkable 2:1 Honours degree in Biomedical Science from Strathclyde University. Ennis’s primary talent in running his first company had apparently been for attracting lucrative contracts for his technicians and scientists to work on and develop. His instinct, charisma, personality and charm were his most useful attributes, rather than his scientific skills. Ennis left the science to those more talented than himself and regarded his degree as a tool to allow him to converse with the people and understand the techniques used in his business. Subsequently, he continued to invest wisely, using the proceeds to continue expanding Synthi-Co, now the industry leader in reproductive health.

  Gavin Ennis was a self-made multi-trillionaire. He was well respected, even revered by some people, and a man with integrity. Alex couldn’t find a single negative statement about him. Despite this – or perhaps because of this – his instincts prodded at him to investigate further. Something about Gavin screamed out to Alex, Danger! Something in the way Gavin had looked at Thomas had made him uncomfortable and refused, despite the research, to abate.

  Gently touching the Holo-Screen, Alex powered off the device and headed up stairs for some sleep, telling himself, It hardly matters. It’s not like he and Thomas will meet again anyway. Of more concern to Alex was the persistence of the UK government in pushing the new legislation about registering Randoms.

  5

  Alex shuffled a stack of files and documents around on his desk, having shuffled the same files and documents around for most of that morning. Hospitals were the last bastion of bureaucracy. Most of the records and reports could be completed digitally, but the various Trusts had their own ideas on what was secure. The Trust in control of Alex’s hospital believed in doing everything in triplicate. Once for the digital world and twice on paper. As a result, doctors working in the Ally McCoist Clinic for Reproductive Health spent only forty percent of their day actually diagnosing or treating patients. Around twenty percent was spent in research, which was Alex’s favourite part of the job, and the remainder in an office shuffling paper, both virtually and literally.

  Alex sighed and opened the third last file he had to work on that morning. As he began working, his Comm vibrated. Unfolding the mini Holo-Comm he was confronted with a worried-looking Thomas.

  “Dad, I’m sorry to call you at work.”

  “That’s fine, son. What’s going on?” Alex felt he already knew the answer.

  “It’s Mum.” Thomas looked away from his Comm, presumably towards his mum.

  “Is she vaped again?” Alex asked.

  She’d been clean for the last few months, since their day at the beach, but she’d been clean for months and slipped back to using again several times in the past. Still, Thomas wasn’t the type to worry over nothing.

  “Yeah.” The tears started. “And I can’t hear her breathing.”

  Alex’s heart sank, not for her, but because his son was being forced to deal with his mother in her current condition. Alex allowed his doctor’s calmness to wash over him and reassured his son.

  “I don’t want you to worry, Tommy. We’re going to help your mum, ok?”

  Tommy nodded “’Kay.”

  It was a gift, this trust the boy had for his father. A few words and he looked calmer, even in the situation he was in. He knew his father would help.

  “Right, Tommy, here’s what I need you to do.” Alex spoke soothingly, keeping his voice quiet and unconcerned but rising from his seat and pacing his way around his office.

  “Walk over to Mum, turn your Comm around and get in close so that I can see her. Start at her face and work slowly to her chest. Pause for a few seconds at each place before moving down.”

  Tommy was still staring away from the screen on Alex’s Comm, nodding along.

  “Go on, son. Do it now.”

  Alex watched as the image of his wife appeared on his Holo-Comm and grew as Tommy neared her. Sarah was on her back, face to the ceiling, no colour in her cheeks. As Tommy swept the camera from her face to her chest, Alex noted that she wasn’t breathing.

  “You know those glass coasters Mum always makes us put our drinks on?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Go get one and put it under Mum’s nose and mouth. Let me see on the camera.”

  Alex watched his boy check for breathing but find nothing.

  “Ok, son. Go to Mum’s wrist and check her pulse. Just like we practiced for your school biology project.”

  Tommy positioned and repositioned his fingertips on his mother’s wrist a few times whilst Alex sweated.

  “I feel it, Dad. It’s slow and weak, but it’s there.”

  Alex relaxed a little.

  “Good, well done, Tommy. Go back to Mum’s face and open her mouth. You need to check for blockages. The halogen spotlights above her will let you see deep into her throat if you pull her head back a little before you look in.”

  Tommy put his Comm down, leaving Alex to look at a Holo-Image of the ceiling, mirroring his wife’s view. If she’d been conscious.

  “I can’t see anything, Dad. Just darkness.”

  “Use the little light and Holo-Cam on your Comm. Point it in and I’ll have a look.”

  Tommy was doing very well. He calmly followed his father’s instructions, moving his Comm around in response to his father’s left a bit, right a bit dialogue.

  Suddenly Alex found what he’d been looking for.

  “Stop! Hold it there, I see it.”

  In the Holo-Image projecting from his Comm, Alex could see quite clearly a perfectly placed, sized and shaped piece of fruit blocking Sarah’s pharynx.

  “You’re doing great, Tommy. Mum has something stuck in her throat and it’s stopping the air from getting to her lungs. I need you to put your fingers in Mum’s mouth and try to get a grip of it so that you can pull it out.”

  “Ok, Dad.” Tommy sounded scared but determined.

  Alex lost his view and was staring at an image of the ceiling again as Tommy had put his Comm down, but he could hear his son swearing as he tried to catch the object.

  “I can’t get it, Dad. Every time I catch it and pull, a piece breaks off.”

  Alex instructed his son to keep trying, but after a few more attempts it was becoming obvious that the boy couldn’t budge the blockage and they were running out of time. Two minutes had passed since he’d answered his Comm. Alex decided that another course of action was needed.

  “Tommy, stop what you’re doing and go to the kitchen. Take your Comm with you.”

  Whilst he waited for Tommy to reach the kitchen, Alex used his office Comm to send a message to the emergency services. Sarah would need an ambulance when this was over. Hopefully.

  “I’m here, Dad.”

  “All right, Tommy.” Alex deliberately kept his voice free from the stress he felt and instructed his son in the manner he might use when doing homework together. Calm, clear and unhurried. “You need three things. Go to the third drawer on the left and find a disposable pen.”

  After a brief rummage, Tommy said, “Got it.”

  “Good. Now in the top drawer, there’s some cream-coloured masking tape. Remember we used it when we painted your room last year?”

  “Yeah. The wide or narrow one, Dad?”

  “The narrow one. Now go and get the small knife we use for peeling potatoes from the knife block. Be careful, it’s extremely sharp.”

  A few seconds later Tommy announced, “Right, got it all.”r />
  Alex took a deep breath to steady his nerves and his voice.

  “Good work. Now Tommy, Mum can’t breathe because of the blockage in her throat. I’ve called an ambulance but it’ll take at least eight minutes to get there.” Alex paused for a second, mentally phrasing his next statement before saying it aloud. “Mum can’t wait eight minutes, Thomas. She needs help now and it has to be you.”

  Tommy didn’t pause for an instant before replying, “I can do it, Dad. Just tell me what and how.”

  He sounded years older than he was. Despite the situation and his own rising fear, Alex felt his heart swell with pride.

  “Right. Go kneel down beside Mum. Use your fingers to feel for her Adam’s apple and then stroke down until you feel a second, smaller bump.

  “Got it, Dad.”

  “Good boy. That’s the Cricoid cartilage. Stroke back up towards the Adam’s apple. Do you feel a small indentation between the two?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. That’s where you’re going to make a cut.”

  Tommy suddenly sounded terrified. “Won’t I kill her if I cut her throat?”

  Alex forced reassurance into his voice. “I promise she’ll be fine. There will be virtually no blood. Trust me, son.”

  Alex watched as Tommy positioned his Comm so that his Dad could see. Holding his index finger in the spot Alex had described, he asked, “Here? Is this right?”

  “Perfect, Tommy. Now take the knife and make a half-inch horizontal incision. That’s across the way, from left to right, not up and down. The cut should be about half an inchdeep and, like I said, there won’t be much blood.”

  Alex watched his ten-year-old son’s perfectly steady hand make a perfect incision in his mother’s trachea.