#10 Synthetic Nation
Paul kicked into Operation: Pacification. “We’re a synthetic nation, Bert,” he said. Paul had weathered many such tirades since moving into management.
The newspaper article clenched in Bert’s fist argued otherwise. Chemical leaks. Diseases and mutations. Did it really matter whether it was a Chicago suburb or a field in Iowa?
“I can’t keep working here,” Bert replied. “I thought UltraChem was different.”
“You’ll get used to it,” Paul said. “It bugs everyone at first, but people will have to get used to this kind of thing. Consumers demand everything and then complain when the bill comes due.”
Bert crumpled the article into a ball and dropped it on Paul’s office floor.
* * * * *
Through long searching, Bert had found the people he needed. His finger hovered over the “Send” button.
Was he prepared to sell out his company and throw it to the activist wolves? His own future would get eaten alive, too.
He heard Paul’s defense again in his head: We’re a synthetic nation, Bert.
Bert clicked send.
“Not any more,” he said.