BAD WINE CRAPPY CHOCOLATE

CHAPTER FIVE-6

The Mibil communication chip was the first of Allisours' innovative products to take the country, and then the world, by storm. The information bureau Allisours created not only allowed its users to communicate with others, but also to browse the internet. The company was also developing an option that would allow the Mibil to access a person's subconscious. Their dreams could be recorded and played back at any time. Despite the chorus of objections by those who believed that the product would somehow result in compromising an individual's privacy, perhaps even the loss of free will, the average consumer was immediately sold on the concept. A surgical procedure was required to install the device, and the large number of people who desired it soon strained the health care system. There was a great hue and cry about the inability of those in Washington to reform it. Of course, there was no system in the world that could have expeditiously dealt with this sudden influx of people seeking brain surgery; however, that reality was lost on those who wanted the computer chip.
Chris Cane usually characterized an innovative device like the Mibil (Mind Information Bureau Internal Link) as being a completely unnecessary contraption that the world could do without. This was due to his lifelong aversion to learning how to use new technology. Yet the chip escaped his usual skepticism, due to his burgeoning relationship with Foster. Chris had it inserted, and received his first call while lying in a hospital bed.
Daniel Foster's voice suddenly echoed throughout his mind and, shortly after, the chairman's image appeared to him as if in a dream. The senator did not have to speak to reply, but only had to think of a response in order for Foster to receive it. This was the result of his decision to allow the Mibil to access all areas of his brain, an option the majority of people had chosen.
"So, how do you like it?" Daniel asked.
"Usually when one hears a voice in his head, he's in serious trouble. This is the strangest sensation I've ever had."
"You'll grow to love it, I'm sure. And we're very close to working out a deal with the entertainment industry. Imagine having a television program or movie sent directly to your mind. We'll need congressional approval, of course. I called to congratulate you, and to ask a favor. You remember my mentioning Vitala at our last meeting?"
"Yes. How are things going with that?"
"Not as well as we'd like. We were hoping to have Vitala treated as a nutritional supplement by the FDA. But they consider it an over the counter drug. They're basing that on Vitala's use of gene therapy to slow the aging process, which is absurd, since that technique has become almost as common as aspirin. If it's classified as an over the counter drug, we'll have to submit a new drug application and conduct trials. That would delay Vitala's entry into the market for quite some time. There's also another issue that I'm concerned about. There's someone who's determined to prevent it from ever being sold."
"And who might that be?"
"Jack Ruderman."
"Isn't he the one who invented it?"
"Yes. Initially Jack was as gung ho as the rest of us about Vitala. But then he decided that his
reward for inventing the product should be a large stake in the company. The management of Allisours was willing to compensate Jack fairly, but his demands became totally unreasonable. Now he's threatening to badmouth his creation until the FDA bans it."
Foster paused before continuing.
"I happen to know that you're a friend of Janet Smalley, the chairwoman of the FDA. I was wondering if you could speak to her on our behalf. I only ask that you give her Allisours' side of the story. I believe that providence has sent us Vitala. It could be this country's economic salvation."
Chris was reticent to get involved in the agency's affairs. Yet he was developing a vision for his political future, one in which Senator Cane would play an important roll in pulling his country back from the edge of the abyss. In order to make it a reality, he would need the support of Daniel Foster. Against his better judgment, the senator agreed to consider his request.
"I see. I'd feel more comfortable doing that if I knew more about your product."

Foster sent the senator a brochure. Using his Mibil, Chris glanced through it quickly. The drug consisted of a manufactured nucleic acid molecule that was delivered to a cell by a liposome, which was a tiny, fat-encased pouch. Once inside, the molecule could correct disease-causing mutations, as well as turn off the genes that caused aging. Though he did not fully understand the process, the senator was impressed by the concept.
"I'll read this on the plane, Daniel," he said. "But from the looks of it, I should have no trouble speaking to Janet about the situation."
"Thank you. All I ask is that you tell her about Ruderman's ulterior motive for his criticism of our product. You know, another benefit of our drug would be a drastic cut in the country's defense budget."
"How so?"
"Once we begin to sell it abroad, our international customers will not want to do without it. And if this country were to be attacked, the production of Vitala could very well come to a halt. No foreign government will want to risk that. So we won't need to spend as much on defense."
"That's food for thought," Cane said. "You'll be happy to know that all the senators and representatives you've spoken to have scheduled a meeting at the end of the month. We want make the Roster Plan a reality."
"Excellent. I only hope that you'll be one of the senators in the new government."
After leaving the hospital, Chris told Roger Rainer about the meeting.
"You've passed the point of no return," the advisor told him, in the same tone one would use to say you've guaranteed yourself a place in hell. "So, you don't approve?"
"No, I'm not saying that. In fact, since your poll numbers are way down, I was thinking of suggesting that you become an independent. If you go public with this it will make that decision for you, since the Democratic Party will respond as though they just found out you have the plague. But on the bright side, if things keep getting worse, you might find yourself in a good position because of your interest in the plan. You could be the next Thomas Jefferson."

Chris let his mind wander for a moment, imagining that the Roster Plan was an opportunity for him to achieve immortality. Roger brought him back from his musings.
"Of course, if they don't..."
"I'll look like a damn fool," Chris conceded. "I wonder about this Vitala. I think Foster is offering me a position in the new government in exchange for my recommending it to Smalley. That concerns me."
He stared out the window at the passersby, wondering if they had any concept of how many deals had to be struck in order to spur a government agency into action.
"Oh well. If I didn't know how to barter, I wouldn't be here. You know, if we can pull this off, John Roster is going to look like a genius."
"Stranger things have happened, boss."
Chris and his colleagues spent years hammering out a blueprint for a new government. Washington had become helplessly deadlocked just as the Roster Committee, as they referred to themselves, concluded that the plan was ready for public scrutiny. The current political climate presented an unusual opportunity to do so. The President of the United States, John Briar, invited six senators and the same number from the house to lunch. Each party was equally represented. Chris Cane was among the senators, which was somewhat of a surprise, since he was chosen over other members with greater seniority.
They sat around a large conference table in the White House, with the Democrats on one side and the Republicans on the other. After greeting each of his guests by name, their host addressed them collectively.
"I know it's often difficult for political creatures like us to get on the same page," he began. "But we've got some major league problems that have to be dealt with. The debt ceiling has to be raised to 45 trillion dollars. We're hemorrhaging money, folks. And I'm not even sure we'll be able to sell enough bonds to cover it. The investors are getting nervous. Something has to be done."