Synthetic Savior

A drunken date leads to an unexpected revelation.

Original art by Brian Reindel

A jumble of ProtoSynth Version 2.0 Nuggets whirred past Hailey Richter at incredible speed. With mind-numbing accuracy, she picked out the deflated or brown-speckled rejects. Those were cultured meat products that didn’t meet the quality requirements. While other companies used a combination of lasers, thermal imaging and photography to spot the undesirables, ProtoSynth employed a community of middle-aged women.

These women were attuned to the minor imperfections of prepackaged meat products after years of feeding them to their children. In Hailey’s case, she cared for one child, a pre-teen autistic son named Billy. His father split after hearing the diagnosis. ProtoSynth built a new factory the next month, offering company health benefits that partially covered medical expenses and day care. Losing all that meant moving back in with her mother, a horrid proposition that kept her on the line.

ProtoSynth didn’t like the term cultured meat, as it brought to the consumer’s mind images of petri dishes, test tubes and chemical byproducts. The approved public term was simulated meat. Behind the scenes, the food chemists preferred the term synthetic meat. Hailey knew that much and a whole lot more after her disastrous date with Hank, the lead food chemist.

“Girl, you’re off in dream land,” a coworker named Crystal said as she snagged a couple of misshapen nuggets.

“Hmm? Oh, sorry, I can’t concentrate,” Hailey said.

“Hank keep you up all night, and maybe morning, too?”

“Very funny, no, actually, he got drunk during dinner at the lodge and puked in the bathroom. The bartender called him a cab.”

“Honey, I want to hear all about that train wreck over lunch.”

Hailey laughed but didn’t find anything humorous about the previous evening. The conversation with Hank scared her, and now she feared for her job. Everyone at ProtoSynth signed a strict non-disclosure agreement, a binding contract none of the factory workers ever dreamed of fighting, even if they did have the means. Hank violated every clause and subsection while exposing the company’s dirty secrets over chicken alfredo.

Crystal and Hailey sat in a quiet corner of the break room during their lunch. The two often swapped stories of company gossip, who was dating who, had family drama or what supervisors took bribes to adjust shift hours and approve extra vacation days. The women were barely seated before Crystal interrogated Hailey.

“You better spill it, girl. I haven’t had gossip this good in years,” Crystal said.

“He was such a gentleman the whole time. He even talked about his family, his mother and sisters. It only took one glass of wine for that to change,” Hailey said.

“Did he put his hands on you?”

“No, he got… dark. Somber, like, you know? Paranoid, too. He said ProtoSynth was watching and listening constantly.”

“That sounds like my Ricky. Be careful, those are the dangerous ones. They keep it all bottled up inside, and one day they pop after chugging a six-pack.”

“He’s not dangerous. Not like that. He talked about ProtoSynth, his team, and what he knows they’re putting in the product. He wasn’t supposed to tell me any of that. I think he felt guilty.”

A few managers walked in and sat a couple of tables away, just out of distance from their conversation. Hailey shifted uncomfortably in her seat and looked downcast. Crystal understood immediately, got up and sat right next to Hailey with her back to them.

“I just can’t lose this job. You know my situation; you know what Billy is up against. I can’t give him up to the state,” Hailey whispered as hot tears formed.

“Sweetie, nothing like that is going to happen. So what if Hank shared a little more than he should. You didn’t do anything wrong,” Crystal said.

“Hank told me they’ve been working with new AI software. It changes the formula based upon how people respond to the taste. ProtoSynth keeps track of sales data, reviews and market research and feeds it back into some master database. He said the program even allows them to mix and match animal proteins.”

“So what? All packaged food we eat goes through a similar process. Can you imagine me making a home cooked meal every night for two teenage boys? Whether I’m cooking kangaroo or monkey, it makes no difference, so long as it’s done in fifteen minutes, and I don’t hear any complaints.”

“I used to think the same thing. After what Hank told me, I’m not so sure anymore. I guess the software made some questionable suggestions with the data he provided.”

Before Crystal could ask about the suggestions, a slender, middle-aged man in an expensive business suit walked into the lunchroom, scanned the occupants, focused on Hailey and Crystal and walked over to them. His appearance revealed his position as an executive among the blue collars feasting on freely provided ProtoSynth meals. The presence rattled a few employees, who got up and left.

“Hailey Richter, my name is Joseph Fleming, Senior VP of product engineering,” the man said. Crystal received no recognition.

A nervous hello was all Hailey could manage in reply.

“Sorry to bother you on your lunch break. I’ve asked Charles to give you an extra hour so I could speak with you privately,” Fleming said.

She assumed he meant Chuck, her boss, an indication how far removed Fleming was from their department.

“Sure, right now?” Hailey asked.

“Please, if you don’t mind. This won’t take long, I’m sure,” Fleming said as he motioned with his arm toward the door. 

“We’ll talk later after work,” Crystal said. She patted Hailey’s hand, an attempt to reassure her, and then gathered her belongings and left.

Hailey sat on one side of a dark cherry, double pedestal desk, across from Fleming in an office she didn’t know existed. A similar color wainscotting surrounded the room, giving her the feeling that she stepped out of a comfortable, familiar world into a foreign jungle with a solitary predator. Ready to pounce, he leaned forward in a black, leather chair and typed onto a small laptop.

“We distributed a survey a few months ago and you indicated a desire to return to college, possibly to obtain a bachelor’s degree,” Fleming said.

“I can’t afford college, Mr. Fleming,” Hailey said.

“No, not at the hourly rate we pay you now. What if you were to receive a salaried compensation package and tuition credits, say at seventy-five percent?”

“I’m not sure I understand. I don’t know much about business.”

“That’s why we want you to attend college. The company is launching a new initiative to elevate selected women who have demonstrated potential and are in need.”

“In need?”

“Your son, he has down syndrome?”

“He’s autistic.”

“You would be paid enough to hire an experienced full-time home care worker while you attend classes and study. We would require a three-year commitment post-graduation, or the tuition credits would need to be repaid in full. Human resources will send you all of the details. I’m sure I’m missing something. Of course, a change in position requires a new employment contract and non-disclosure agreement.”

Hailey tensed and Hank’s drunken ramblings replayed through her mind. He said ProtoSynth would do anything to prevent details from leaking. She imagined a pack of ravenous lawyers suing her into oblivion, but now that Fleming presented the offer, a harsh realization made her squirm in her chair.

“Mr. Fleming, does this have anything to do with Hank? I swear, I haven’t said anything. It doesn’t matter to me what the meat is made of,” Hailey said.

“Hank is no longer with ProtoSynth. We would like to retain you, but I’m not sure that’s going to be possible beyond our little meeting here,” Fleming said.

“You’re going to fire me? Just because he told me—”

“This isn’t retribution, Miss Richter. We’re automating. In a month’s time, most of the factory workers will be replaced with robotics, computers and software. It’s necessary to meet the high demand—”

Fleming rambled on as a small drop of sweat trickled down Hailey’s temple. She wiped it away and rubbed her clammy hands on her pants. She wondered how Billy might react to a more experienced caretaker in the house, with the background to understand his special needs. She could have a career, not just a job, a chance to save for Billy’s future if anything happened to her. 

“—a possibility we’ll be going public, although that’s unsubstantiated. What an amazing opportunity for you if it is true. All employees would certainly get stock options. This is your best chance for—”

“On one condition,” Haily said.

Fleming leaned back in his chair, and said, “You want the truth.”

“Yes. Is what Hank said true?”

“It’s not people, Miss Richter. This isn’t Soylent Green, if that’s what you want to know.”

“But the meat is human.”

“Unknown to ProtoSynth's board, Hank introduced the cellular structures of human organs into the process. The results were fed into the model and the response, as well as the financial outcome, was spectacular. It’s not entirely Homo sapiens. A miniscule percentage is filler, but our numbers show consumption increased four hundred percent when version 2.0 was released. All of it’s a trade secret we prefer to keep. Will you help us do that?”

Hailey stood up, leaned over the desk and put her hand out for Fleming to shake. He stood, gripped her hand tight, but did not shake it vigorously, choosing to let her confirm the transaction verbally.

“Yes, I will help you do that,” Hailey said.

“Wonderful. Take the day off to celebrate. HR will be in touch. A brighter future starts tomorrow,” Fleming said.

Hailey walked out of the office, grabbed her coat and purse from her locker and left without saying goodbye to Crystal. She would lie about Hank if pressed for more details. There was enough gossip to go around.