Chapter One
Date: October 31st, 2012
“FUCK!!”
Dr. Eugene Connor,
known to many as Dr. Bull, slammed his notes on his desk and threw the nearby
flask against the wall. Five weeks. That’s all he had left. He had five weeks
to prove to the board that they should continue to fund his research for an
AIDS cure. Thirty billion dollars had been invested thus far, and though his
research has shown progress, it was not yet ready for animal testing. But it
was so close. He was very close to testing on animals and he’ll make that
proposal this afternoon.
They gather. Men in dark collared suits, Windsor knotted
ties, drinking expensive whiskey. These men were wealthy, they are men who have
always been in power, had dominance, and exhibited control. They come from a
long line of influence. They gather to hear Dr. Connor’s proposal. They expect
the experiment to be going just as planned. They expect no hiccups. They don’t
expect Dr. Connor to ask for an extension like the last meeting. They expect
those corrections to be made; they expect him to be competent. They have too
much invested to consider mistakes. They have far too much to risk.
“I would like to thank you all for joining me this evening”,
begins Dr. Connor. “I know for some it was quite a journey, especially those
who had to pass through Hurricane Sandy. This shows you are truly committed to
my research”. No laughter. They are not interested in the research as a whole,
but the profits they can reap from its results. “I am sorry to inform you that
I will need more time. We are very close to animal testing, and are taking all
the appropriate steps to be there shortly. I encourage you to be patient with
me becau-”
“How much more time?” Mr. Kennedy interrupted. He was a man
who’d invested heavily in this projected. He was impressed with Dr. Connors
work as an undergrad, and immediately jumped onto the bandwagon when he heard
of Connors’ AIDS research.
“I can’t say for sure”, Dr. Connor responded.
“You have two weeks to show success in animal testing, and
to prepare the drug to be on the market. We’ve invested too much fucking money
into this and I don’t want to see this fall apart. Meeting adjourned”.
Dr. Connor was stunned. Two weeks. This was unanticipated.
He needed much more time but was afraid to ask. He succumbed to the pressure of
power. So much has been invested into his work, and he couldn’t possibly let
them down. They have all invested in his work and had taken a great risk in
doing so. And now he must show results. Two weeks. That’s all the time he had
left…
Date: November 14, 2012
“Let’s skip the formalities, what are the results Dr.
Connor?” Mr. Kennedy began.
“The drug is ready for the market, and I would even like to
propose an idea that may seem a bit… radical. What if we were to test the drug
on a small population before we put it on the market? Think about it. We’ll go
to an ignored location. We’ll intentionally infect the residents, then cure
them with the serum. We’re all well connected here, who’s to stop us but
ourselves?”
“Where would you do this, and what would be the chances of
us getting caught?”
“In Marie Ville, New Jersey. The city is a breeding ground
for infection and disease so if we do anything wrong, we can simply blame it on
the more than a hundred contaminated sites and polluting industries. The city
has continually been used as a dumping ground for decades. I read an article
that talked about this shithole. It said, ‘The sewage treatment plant was
followed by a regional trash-to-steam incinerator, one of the largest in the
state, and by a cogeneration power plant in the early 1990s. The DEP granted
permits for these facilities despite strong community opposition and failed to
adequately enforce environmental standards’. Do you think anyone would give a
shit if we were to go there?”
Mr. Kennedy thought about it. “I’m still not convinced, but
I don’t see any other option. And ultimately this could be a good thing. In
reality, we are doing more good than harm. Imagine the millions who will be
saved because of our work. Imagine the billions who will be set free from the
debilitating disease of HIV because of the risk that we displace onto the
residents of Marie Ville. Are we evil? Are we wrong for doing this? Have we
abused our power? I don’t think so. I think we have maximized our power to do
the greatest good for as many as we can. Few will suffer, yes, but many more
will praise and honor us for the risk we’ve endeavored and the pain we
alleviate in the future. And we have so much pressure from the government to
cough up results. I would hate to disappoint them and lose all the money we’ve
invested. How soon can you do this?”
The truth was that the drug wasn’t ready for the market.
After the previous meeting, Dr. Connor had begun animal testing and there were
few successful tests. He felt the pressure to deliver because the promise of
this miracle drug was long overdue. So he lied. He told them that the drug was
ready, knowing that they would take him on his word. Moreover, in order to see
the drugs effect on a human population, he chose the most vulnerable location,
thinking there wouldn’t be a public outcry - and definitely not a public
backlash.
“I think we can present the drug under the guise of the
annual flu shot. Few will look into it; we can easily bribe the officials in
the city to go along with the project. We will tell them that we are
researching alternatives to the flu vaccination, and have the project cleared
within a week’s time”, Dr. Connor confidently stated.
They were wrong. It only took the officials in Marie Ville a
day to clear the project. Dr. Connor and his team were there the following
morning.
Marie Ville looked like a third world country. The juxtaposition
was contradictory. How can one of the wealthiest states harbor such a
demolished city? A thirty-minute drive would place you in any one of the
wealthy suburbs surrounding Marie Ville. The buildings were cracked. They
seemed like they were very close to toppling and it was surprising to find
people still living in them. But at least they had shelter. Homelessness was
rampant and there were people languishing away in the streets. Addicts
desperately searched for a secluded location to indulge, and streetwalkers were
not too discrete in offering services. Gangbangers threw up their gang signs
and others were posted on the corners – street pharmacists. They were so young.
If they’re here, then who’s in school?
What was more eerie was the tension in the air. There was so
much distrust, so much anger, hatred. It was almost palpable. The tough
exterior presented by the gangsters was not only a way of protecting themselves
from the dangers of the streets, but also a way of projecting their callousness
onto the police who roamed the streets cautiously. The police cars crept the
roads as though they were looking to commit a drive-by themselves. They peered
through their sunglasses; looking for any sign of wrong doing, a suspicious
handshake, anything that can potentially cause harm to others, but more
importantly, themselves. The tension in the air was so taut because both
parties felt they were in the right. The gangbangers found no other way to make
money but to make it on the streets. They could not envision the American dream
when they woke up to brown grass and metal fences as children. They were
unmotivated in school because they were rarely helped by a school system that
was underfunded and overlooked. A future through college? The loans alone
surpassed their parent’s meager income, and the fact that their guidance
counselors were flooded with students, made it difficult for them to understand
the college process. And here were the police, providing another barrier to
their success.
But the police officers were well intentioned. They were
there to supervise and to mediate conflict as it emerged. Sure, it’s easy to
talk about police brutality in the comfort of your own home, but they face the
threat of death every day. So they do anticipate a gun when the drug dealer
goes in his pocket to show identification. They anticipate a gunfight whenever
they encounter a rebellious resident who has “street cred”. Moreover, the media
doesn’t make them any less edgy. Doesn’t rap music document life on the
streets? Someone must always be committing crime, someone must always be
“strapped”, and drugs are constantly being sold. Whoever heard of a rap song
where someone takes the bus, walks through the park on a nice day, or takes
their son to a local basketball game? The residents and police officers are
bombarded with images of the flaws in the ghetto, and are overly cautious. They
feel the need to always be on guard; whether it’s by posing on the corner, or
by patrolling the streets with the intention to instill fear. They all want to
be protected.
Dr. Connor felt the thick air of mistrust and instructed the
chauffer to lock his doors. He was in a pretty expensive car and knew that he
was drawing a lot of attention. Today would be the first day of the “flu shots”
and he did not want to make a bad impression on the residents. He booked the
local retirement home easily. They are always in need of care and he felt this
would be the perfect place to begin the experiment. There are even fewer risks
to consider here. Many of the people have very little time left, and even if
the experiment is a failure, he’ll know what he needs to work on immediately.
More importantly, if this experiment is a success, he would feel comfortable
sampling a larger population and finally putting the drug on the market.
- K.S. Fort
