Future Pharming Ch. 01

Wife and husband no longer on the same page

This one started out as something like Imhapless' "For the Greater Good" and morphed into a much longer and drawn-out story. So, we'll call it "inspired by" I couldn't just leave it at the obvious conclusion for our MC, so it's broken into three parts. "Future Pharming" will have two parts, and then "Future Farming" will be the third part and published after this one as a continuation, but also standalone.

The concept and some of the plot lines were devised post-Thanksgiving dinner with family and friends. A bunch of people sitting around contemplating 'what if.' Most of the group is in the medical field, and one has the exact same credentials as our MC. Their 'science' had my mind racing. As I asked pointed questions about their field of expertise, and what might happen if it all went to shit, I started to make notes. This is the result after three months of writing - rechecking, clarifying, and re-writing.

Therefore, I have some friendly warnings, and one thing I must stand my ground on. Fortunately, it's a free story site, and since I'm trying to entertain you, I get to do it.

The virus and subsequent pandemic in this story closely mirror the real-life virus we've all recently endured. If revelations or actual accounts, in any form, of the real-life virus negatively impact you, you may want to skip this story.

Cancer plays a role in this volume and volume two, "Future Farming." Same as above, if you are negatively impacted or triggered by that, skip the story.

This fits best in the LW category, but there is very little sex, and mostly it's implied. There are parts of this story that resemble "In the Name of Science," by Laptopwriter. I have reached out, to offer an early read and to see how the author viewed my story compared to theirs but have not had a reply. After further consideration, I believe only the basic premise and one character's profession come into play.

** As always, all comments and criticisms are welcome, EXCEPT with this one, negative or incorrect comments concerning the actual science in the story. I'm sorry, but after long hours writing it, making sure the content was plausible, and consulting people that are actually in a position to verify it, I will not accept comments, masquerading as gospel, or questioning its validity. "That sounds pretty far-fetched" (acceptable) versus "Any human with a brain knows nothing like this could ever happen, and therefore it's a culmination of conspiracy theory." (unacceptable). I trust the professionals, and in this case, many are family members who simply kept me within the guardrails of my fictitious story. Suspension of disbelief is often important to authors, myself included. The truth is, there are a lot of people who believe things completely contrary to other people so suspension can often be an exercise in futility.

Of course, you can always private message me. I may read it or not. I may even reply. Since I'm putting the finishing touches on a novel about the decline and eventual collapse of our public health and public education systems, after three years of research, I'm happy to accept the role of subject matter expert.

[Copyright 2023, all rights reserved]

Relax; it's just a story, people.

Year 2030

Since the great pandemic of 2020, the virus had mutated eighteen times. The latter strains caused little more than cold-like symptoms. Vaccines were still the preferred deterrent according to the World Health Organization.

That worked out well until 2025, when two members of 3-letter government agencies provided definitive proof that US and foreign pharmaceutical companies, were themselves creating new, more deadly strains of the original virus. It all came to a head, when an unexpected, prominent whistleblower showed up at a congressional hearing, providing direct evidence that the top three U.S. Pharmaceutical companies were doing the dirty through gain-of-function, under the guise of getting ahead of future viruses and saving lives. That whistleblower had my exact credentials, although he was about ten months ahead of me on his doctorate.

Things snowballed from there. Official documents revealed at least twenty members of Congress and members of the president's executive team knew about what the big pharma companies were doing, including all eight members of the fed task force on Early Detection of Viral Epidemiology (EDOVE).

There was talk of criminal charges against those senators and congresspersons, even impeachment of the president, although none of those charges ever grew legs because opposing sides characterized them as political witch hunts. The three big pharma companies all filed for bankruptcy due to massive public boycotts of most of their products - medicines - and lack of consumer confidence.

In 2026, a new major scandal pushed the virus and vaccines into the background, when new allegations about Bill Yates, one of the wealthiest men on Earth surfaced. He'd made his fortune in the tech industry, and spent a considerable amount in recent years, pushing plant-based foods, while buying up farms in America's heartland at an alarming rate. Some top-level officials in his organization were accusing him of tainting the nation's food supply, and people - everyday American consumers - were listening.

For several years, the public lost confidence in their government, too. The 2028 elections for Congress and president had the lowest turnout since 1890. Cable news called it 'cocooning,' and instead of people fighting their government, like in the earlier part of the decade, the general populous just became indifferent.

I was sure my career would never go anywhere but did everything I could to keep my head on straight. I'm Steven Boswell, by the way. My wife, Sarah, needed a lot of comforts, and I found that to be therapeutic even when I was running on empty. She was chief of nursing at Memorial Hospital, and she had been smack-dab in the middle of the shit show, since day one. Now the government had announced a new virus, just as my wife and the world were catching their breath.

Besides patient care, she now had to deal with disgruntled and wary family members demanding access to their loved ones and, worse, demands for unconventional medicines and treatments. Some became violent, and the facility would have to go on lockdown.

By 2028, even more problems arose. The new virus, and specifically, the booster designed to deal with it, was causing a mutation in the lining of the stomach in males, but in females that mutation was causing a previously unknown Endometriosis, of the tissues inside the uterus and cervix.

There was a twenty-two percent increase in ovarian cancer, in just that first year, since the mutation had been discovered. Women were being prescribed a variety of meds and homeopathic to help purge the tissue during the menstrual cycle, as was supposed to naturally occur.

Sarah and I had weathered it all. She was my rock, and I was hers. Back in 2023, she'd gone to a dark place, and it only got worse over the next year. I'd gotten her to finally agree to some counseling, and they'd diagnosed her with borderline depression. She'd had a total disconnect from her surroundings, including me.

I made sure that she went to her appointments, and I attended many along with her. Serious notetaking helped me understand the causes of her depression, and how to help her. A lot of it was centered around her work at the hospital and the constant stress. Quite a bit had to do with the death of her parents, that same year. They had moved to Europe just a few months after we'd met, and two years later, just after our wedding, had perished in the infamous cruise ship disaster with the Syrian terrorists.

We talked about that quite a bit, in the evenings after dinner. I wouldn't let her slide on our conversations unless she'd had a very stressful day at the hospital. Over the course of six months, Sarah started to come out of her depression. Those days were when I felt closest to her, even more so than when she was completely back to normal.

Once the Government bailed out - code words for 'took over' - the pharmaceutical companies in 2026, I had my own bout of hopelessness. I'd been with Aspen Industries, ever since right out of college. We made and scrutinized the batch recipes for most medicines, including the vaccines for both viruses.

The first day I saw a military vehicle backing up to our dock, to receive a tested-ready batch I almost quit. Almost, that is. Going through the monthly vetting process by government officials was so over the top, that I spent most of those days pumped up on Ibuprofen, to help my shoulder muscles relax. The series of questions, all designed to ensure I wasn't some domestic terrorist, were grueling, unnecessary, and exhaustive.

Sarah was there for me, reciprocating the care I'd shown her. It was harder on her than it had been on me. She didn't understand most of what my job entailed, and I'd get frustrated explaining things. To her credit, when my voice rose in intensity and volume, she'd take a relaxed posture and talk in a soothing voice, allowing me to vent and get back on track.

During the time since the feds took over their meddling ways, many of us at Aspen decided we needed to help ourselves in case things went south. I had a group of three close friends at work, most of us had started working there about the same time. The first thing the four of us agreed to, over drinks one night, was our ability to communicate with each other. We decided to purchase burner phones for that purpose but to only use them in case of some dire emergency. We may have seemed paranoid to the casual observer, but we'd seen fellow associates duck walked out the door, never to return, by DHS. Some of those people, we knew personally, and could easily vouch for them.

Three out of the four of us had an old laptop lying around the house, and one in our little group had an advanced degree in software architecture, we had him set us up with a rotating VPN, in case our regular home devices were ever to be monitored. We'd joke about how we were out of our minds and that any of those three-letter agencies had plenty of technology to overcome our feeble attempts.

Yes, Sarah and I had been through a lot during our seven years together, and the nine since we'd met. Besides helping each other out of our funks, Sarah and I disagreed on any number of things. She held to the science of her profession, which was normal. I stuck to the science of mine, and with my natural untrusting ways, we often argued about menial things to do with the virus, and who the 'good guys' really were.

But we were finally talking about starting a family, within our 'new normal,' and a settling period in the country itself, we felt confident the worst was behind us. My wife's hours normalized, and we began spending more heartfelt time together.

One mid-November day, Sarah came home in an exceptionally upbeat mood. She'd been a little down, and I'd observed, distracted the previous two weeks. Nothing had been alarming, and she always mentioned work as the source of her mood but didn't think it important enough to go into any great detail about it.

I asked what had happened to cause her happy aura, and Sarah told me it should wait until after dinner. When we'd finished cleaning up, I sat down on our sofa with my wife, who'd brought some paperwork with her.

"I, uh, we," she stammered, "have been given an incredible opportunity. Stratagem Pharmaceuticals has selected twenty midwestern hospitals and their staff for clinical trials concerning Endo-B1N1." That was the scientific name given to the current vaccine crisis.

"They need volunteers," Sarah said, more seriously than excitedly. "I took the preliminary blood tests and submitted them last week. I'm an acceptable candidate."

I didn't say anything, since my brain was trying to catch up, so my wife handed me a few sheets of paper. The first page read like any legitimate clinical study. Stratagem Industries had been created in the vacuum of the big pharma scandal. For those of us in the know, if that was even possible anymore, Stratagem was widely accepted to be the 'BlackRock' of the pharma industry. Any criticism of them directly was quickly quashed by the feds, or by Stratagem themselves.

The second page looked and read like a cruise ad or a Caribbean getaway. "Is this some sort of joke, Sarah?" I asked her. "Ha-ha! You got me! Are we going on a holiday vacation?"

Sarah's expression went through a range of emotions, finally settling on anger. "Of course not!" she exclaimed. "I'm being serious. This is serious!"

"Okay!" I quickly replied. "This - well it looks like some sort of Sandals brochure."

"Just read it please." Her excellent mood was gone.

The more I read the more flabbergasted I became. It was a vacation of sorts - a month-long vacation. But it was clear that it was also a clinical study for follow-up studies on the Endo-B1N1 vaccine. Sarah and I, to a lesser degree, would be test subjects for the pharmaceutical company. We'd be encouraged to take part in resort-style activities - luaus, parties, and a slew of daytime activities both on land and water. They didn't mention alcohol consumption, but I knew well enough that any research like this would prohibit alcohol and drug use.

"What is this, exactly?" I asked her in a more leveled tone.

"Have you read it all the way through?" she asked tentatively. I continued with the last half of the page. I had to stop at one point and reread the previous sentence.

"Couples of all persuasions will enjoy a tropical paradise-like atmosphere, with intimacy between partners strongly encouraged, along with post-study support of the female partner. The many activities and private time will help to nurture a couple's intimacy and relationship. Relationship-building classes are also provided for a nominal fee."

"All right, Sarah," I said. "I've read it. Now, what the hell is this?"

"Exactly what it says," she looked at me with slight disbelief, wondering what part I didn't understand. "It's legit, if that's what you're asking. I thoroughly checked them out before providing a blood sample."

"Checked with who?" I immediately asked.

"I called the number," Sarah answered, in an exasperated tone. She didn't like my suspicious nature, but moreover, she didn't like being questioned about things she considered within her wheelhouse. "The notice was sent to all the doctors and nurses within four-hundred miles of here. When I called, they transferred me to the number two in charge of the study. He confirmed the study and the unusual accommodations. Then, he asked if I was interested, and I told him I was."

She filled the silence. "I don't understand your hesitancy or negativity," she added. "Tell me what's bothering you?"

"What's the matter," I began, "scientifically, this is bogus."

"What are you talking about, Steve?" she almost screamed. "I just told you it's legit. I spoke with the guy for twenty minutes."

"Well," I answered, "I hope you didn't give them your credit card or personal info. You probably talked to some kid in Eastern Europe with a laptop."

Steve, this isn't funny. I..." She was pissed now.

"Listen to me, Sarah," I interrupted. "Do you remember what I do for a living?" She didn't answer that time. Instead, she looked like someone had popped her balloon.

"You're talking about a mutation," I tried to explain with small words. "In a vaccine. That mutation was likely caused by rushing that particular booster vaccine, without proper testing." I paused to ensure her attention. "The way to solve that is in a lab, not some fantasy island. With CRSPER and plug-and-play the fix resides in genetics. Are we going to be wearing hazmat suits to the beach? Any hope for a fix can only happen on a subatomic level. In extremely controlled..."

"Steve!" Sarah looked, what - confused? Worried? She seemed to want to say something but was having a hard time. I went to fill the silence, but she found her voice.

"Honey," she said sweetly. "They've already fixed it, as you say. The problem is in the physicality. Some women are getting their periods back. Some are not releasing endometrial tissue in a normal fashion. Some women are experiencing extreme pain with intercourse. The drug to counteract the mutation works. It may work too well. This is to... Study and stabilize the sexual side effects."

"You didn't commit to anything, did you?" I didn't like this one bit.

"No... not technically," she stammered. "Tentatively yes, but I told them I needed to speak with you first."

I took a very deep, calming breath. "Okay, Sarah," I replied. "First, I'm not happy about this. You've been off ever since the Endo outbreak. And these last few weeks have been worse. I'm getting the feeling now, that was only because you've been planning this study behind my back. I still don't feel you're letting me in. How can I help the person I love if you don't do that?"

"But I'm not!" she almost screamed. "I'm including you now, right?"

Sarah was playing word games. "I'm struggling here, Sarah," I said quieter. "Sinking maybe. You're making unilateral decisions without me - without the subject matter expert."

Sarah looked down and remained silent. "Tell me, love," I asked. "What's going on in your head? Why do you want to do this so badly?"

She took a long time to consider her answer. I decided to go get myself a drink in the kitchen. She was ready when I returned.

"I want to do this," she began, "because I want to make a difference, Steve. I..."

"You do that every day," I interrupted, "since you first got your job at the hospital. Certainly, this is something for others to do."

"Maybe, in the beginning," she elaborated. "Back when we first met. The early days, and first few years of the pandemic. Yeah, I was making a difference. These past five years though, have taken a toll. First, all the uproar - the mistrust. Then the government bailout... no, taking over the pharmaceutical companies. Both our industries have taken a major hit, and me along with it. Even though we still save lives every day, I... we... I don't know."

"You no longer feel appreciated," I stated matter-of-factly. She nodded enthusiastically, and smiled, knowing I was empathetic to her feelings.

I had a hunch forming. A win-win. This might be a chance to pull Sarah out of her funk, once in for all. Another, darker thought came. How many times would I have to save Sarah from herself? I quickly pushed that aside.

"Okay, Sarah," I told her. "On one condition. "You set up a Zoom call with these people so I can ask questions. Not the second in command - the top guy. No promises after I hear their spiel."

>>>>

Three days later, I was in front of our computer with my wife. Stratagem Industries was quick to set up the call - they needed an answer, as all their other volunteer participants were locked in. Sarah had been climbing the walls since she arrived home that day. I couldn't tell if she was excited or worried, because I was having a hard time reading her.

Brian Noxworthy introduced himself as executive director of Research and Clinical Studies. Sitting next to him on the screen, was Dr. Ling, head of Endometrial Biology. After greetings all around, Mr. Noxworthy seemed anxious to get right into it.

"We're here to answer your questions, Steven," he said. "Why don't you fire away."

"Well," I started, "I suppose I want to know exactly what this study encompasses and its purpose. It is my understanding that you've isolated the specific issue in the vaccine that's causing the endometriosis and stomach cancer."