WEBVTT - World Made Whole

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<v Speaker 1>Follows the production of I are reading of This episode

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<v Speaker 1>contains depictions of drug use. The second oilistic products, and

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<v Speaker 1>you've heard text America on America one. It all reinforces

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<v Speaker 1>this inland narrative that recombined people shouldn't be part of

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<v Speaker 1>normal society, that we're not human enough. It's the same

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<v Speaker 1>sort of repression and exclusion we've seen throughout history, and

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<v Speaker 1>here we are doing it again. We talked, or I

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<v Speaker 1>let her talk. She didn't require a lot of encouragement.

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<v Speaker 1>Utex is complicit too. They profit from the pact and

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<v Speaker 1>depend on recombined labor, but they're also the first to

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<v Speaker 1>don themselves from the coastal communities when they need to

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<v Speaker 1>appeal to landlocked minds. I think she hoped these barbs

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<v Speaker 1>would prick me as well, that I'd take criticism of

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<v Speaker 1>my corporate overlords personally. But of course that's not how

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<v Speaker 1>I saw it. I agreed with most of it, except

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<v Speaker 1>for the notion that anything could be done. I was

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<v Speaker 1>through thinking the world could be fixed. All I wanted

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<v Speaker 1>was to act and to find who I was through action.

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<v Speaker 1>Just particles of a blade stirred to sharpness. Did you

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<v Speaker 1>grow up unlocked? No? We moved around. I saw the

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<v Speaker 1>coastal communities from which side. You know which side, But

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<v Speaker 1>you've been there, right, that's your line of work, I had,

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<v Speaker 1>and it was we polished off the whiskey. She lectured

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<v Speaker 1>me more on the failings of you dex until she

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<v Speaker 1>fell asleep on the cat, curled up beside my gear

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<v Speaker 1>and knives. But I couldn't sleep, even if I'd wanted to.

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<v Speaker 1>I paced. I walked back into the cargo hold and

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<v Speaker 1>inspected the farm tab crate. It was exactly as she'd

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<v Speaker 1>described it, a hollowed out burrow beny three rows of

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<v Speaker 1>prepackaged meals. I found a pillow, a travel urinal, and

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<v Speaker 1>a half empty water thermis. A satchel contained spare clothes,

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<v Speaker 1>and a locked communit. I checked the other crates as well,

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<v Speaker 1>but found only the expected towels, beer, prepackaged junk food.

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<v Speaker 1>One contained nothing but crab crisps. I looked up veil

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<v Speaker 1>on my communit. In the old days of the World

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<v Speaker 1>Wide Web, they say you could turn up anything with

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<v Speaker 1>a few choice searches. But of course, now beyond each

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<v Speaker 1>communit's standard info base, everything's regional firewalled periodic, an online

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<v Speaker 1>police state to keep all the cyber crime, cyber war,

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<v Speaker 1>and self replicating malware in check. I flagged her for

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<v Speaker 1>a more detailed web snapshot the next time I connected

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<v Speaker 1>for a packet, but the basic info seemed to check out.

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<v Speaker 1>I pulled up a holographic low res head shot, as

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<v Speaker 1>well as a handful of her recent reports on recombined

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<v Speaker 1>populations and human rights, or at least titles and audio

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<v Speaker 1>fragments due diligence, something to occupy my mind and fingers.

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<v Speaker 1>While the basilisk coursed through me, I leaned against the

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<v Speaker 1>cargo holds enormous wheeled door and quieted my suspicions. She

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<v Speaker 1>was still asleep when I walked back into the cabin.

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<v Speaker 1>I collected my knives and gear from the cot and

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<v Speaker 1>throw a blanket over her. That was the moment I

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<v Speaker 1>decided not to turn her in. Are you tired of

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<v Speaker 1>this happening to you? Hey? Honey? What's for dinner? We're

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<v Speaker 1>having Taker times cole slaw and crab sticks. Crab sticks again?

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<v Speaker 1>I don't even know what these are made of. What

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<v Speaker 1>part of the crab is this again? And why is

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<v Speaker 1>it spelled with the K like cow? Give your family

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<v Speaker 1>the delicious farm grown meal they deserve straight to your

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<v Speaker 1>table from the American heartland. They're fast, easy, and deliver

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<v Speaker 1>all the nutrition a land dwelling mammal like yourself requires.

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<v Speaker 1>Each dish is a bountiful harvest of non GMO veggies

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<v Speaker 1>and all your favorite meats, cow, pig, chicken, and of

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<v Speaker 1>course wrong worn fraghn. This is delicious mob farm tab

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<v Speaker 1>because crab with a K is not okay, it's human

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<v Speaker 1>and non human right. I for one, I'm sick to

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<v Speaker 1>death of the traitorous liberal lean is a big media

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<v Speaker 1>and big government recombined noncombined. Please, if someone walks up

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<v Speaker 1>to you on the street and calls you non combined,

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<v Speaker 1>then you have the right to punch him in the

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<v Speaker 1>face and check for gills. As far as I'm concerned,

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<v Speaker 1>that's their game, people, infiltration, misapeciation. But you keep your

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<v Speaker 1>fist jeans away from me and mine. Because I'm a mammal,

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<v Speaker 1>my heart gushes warm blood, I have nails and hair

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<v Speaker 1>and nipples. I mean, they don't lack tape. Because I'm

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<v Speaker 1>a man, not a fruit bat. I'm certainly not gonna

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<v Speaker 1>stand by it. Let a bunch of half human monsters

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<v Speaker 1>come and threaten my family with their slimy coon by

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<v Speaker 1>politics that color. I told Vail the truth that I

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<v Speaker 1>wouldn't say a word unless they asked, and even then

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<v Speaker 1>I'd only my shin a suspicious crate in the cargo bay.

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<v Speaker 1>Maybe some sounds I couldn't quite explain. It was all

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<v Speaker 1>on her. I helped her crawl back into a crate,

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<v Speaker 1>breaking her in meal after prepackaged meal. I hope you

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<v Speaker 1>find your missing person. Sure you don't want me to

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<v Speaker 1>ask around you never know. I don't think you want

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<v Speaker 1>any part of it. You might be surprised what an

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<v Speaker 1>impartial reporter can learn over a corporate mercenary. I'm not

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<v Speaker 1>really a mercenary. I'm more of an agent. Potato Potato.

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<v Speaker 1>I hope your land your story. I really do. And

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<v Speaker 1>with one last look at her eyes, I bricked them over,

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<v Speaker 1>replacing them with the garish smile of a cartoon farmer

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<v Speaker 1>and his cows. I packed in the rest. I stepped

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<v Speaker 1>back and listened to her stir inside the crate, positioning

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<v Speaker 1>herself for the rest of the descent. And then everything

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<v Speaker 1>was silent, just the hum and pulse of our artificial shell.

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<v Speaker 1>I walked back into the cabin and sealed the door

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<v Speaker 1>behind me. I pulled my communit back out and checked

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<v Speaker 1>the progress meter. Then I flipped over to the sub's

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<v Speaker 1>external camera and watched the feet bloom into holographic life

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<v Speaker 1>before my eyes. The metallic bulk of Atlas Station loomed

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<v Speaker 1>below me, like some sunken god of industrial excess. Multiple

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<v Speaker 1>arms coiled about the surrounding sea floor, connecting its central

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<v Speaker 1>cathedral like body to various outlying facilities and sub hangers.

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<v Speaker 1>Its baleful lights seemed to fight back against the darkness

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<v Speaker 1>of the abyssal plane, as if standing sentinel against any

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<v Speaker 1>traveler seeking the dark trench beyond its watch. It was

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<v Speaker 1>at once beautiful and blasphemous, steel and chemical glass and circuitry,

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<v Speaker 1>so much of the natural world remade and repurposed into

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<v Speaker 1>a squatting giant, impossible to indefinitely only to very I

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<v Speaker 1>be found the drug was wearing off a bit early.

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<v Speaker 1>It's an inexact science, subject to the effects of stress

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<v Speaker 1>an environment. I shot off the communit. I slid two

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<v Speaker 1>knives into my belt, sheaths another into my boot. I

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<v Speaker 1>grabbed the basilisk applicator and ejected the spent vial into

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<v Speaker 1>the sink. I fumbled almost dropped the fresh dose before

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<v Speaker 1>loading it into place. I moved the applicator to my

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<v Speaker 1>right shoulder and shot the stuff home. The sub shook

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<v Speaker 1>and I fell to one knee. I heard the groan

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<v Speaker 1>of mechanical arms reaching out to embrace the sub, the

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<v Speaker 1>labor of its joints resonating through the high pressure waters

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<v Speaker 1>all around us. The drug began to take hold, and

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<v Speaker 1>I swept sweat from my scalp, flicked my fingers, and

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<v Speaker 1>watched blood spattered to the floor grids. No, not blood,

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<v Speaker 1>but darkness, the earth's black riches. No. I could taste

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<v Speaker 1>it on my lips, neither oil nor blood, but only sweat.

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<v Speaker 1>I smelled the feckin sharpness of my animal fear. The

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<v Speaker 1>rest was mere vision. I looked down to my other

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<v Speaker 1>hand and saw that I'd redrawn the knife from my boot,

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<v Speaker 1>its edge gleaming. Our best self is a thing summoned.

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<v Speaker 1>It depends on chemical balance, a careful cocktail of external stimuli,

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<v Speaker 1>ideal weather, job relationship upbringing the right pharmaceutical fix for

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<v Speaker 1>all the gaps. I think most people never confront that truth,

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<v Speaker 1>but I did. That's why I walked out of my

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<v Speaker 1>old life and into the U dex Apathis program. Once more,

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<v Speaker 1>I drowned it all in the depths of the treatment.

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<v Speaker 1>They wanted an untouchable agent, one who could stand unflinching

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<v Speaker 1>in the face of the Triton's power, especially their nariats.

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<v Speaker 1>Triton's engineered in the deep to have human likenesses. They

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<v Speaker 1>were sirens, created to walk among us and further the

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<v Speaker 1>Triton's uncertain ends. And I'd been conditioned to resist them

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<v Speaker 1>body and mind. Fine, change me, refine me, just make

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<v Speaker 1>me something other than this cluster of anxieties and dashed hopes.

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<v Speaker 1>The cargo bay door rumbled in the next room. I

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<v Speaker 1>heard the audible hiss of air as the sub opened

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<v Speaker 1>itself to the vast, sprawling uncertainty of Atlas Station. But

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<v Speaker 1>I felt my breath begin to still. The claw unclenched

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<v Speaker 1>from my heart, My awareness tightened, the blade slipped soundlessly

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<v Speaker 1>back into its boot sheath, and I stood to greet

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<v Speaker 1>my hosts, M M M. The second oil age was

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<v Speaker 1>produced by Robert Lamb, Alex Williams, Lauren Vogelbaum, and Josh Thame.

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<v Speaker 1>This episode featured on Joo Masters as sinov Pon. Lauren

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<v Speaker 1>Vogelbaum as Tabitha Vale and Noel Brown as tex America.

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<v Speaker 1>Supporting voice work by Jed Drummond, Gina Rakiki, Nicholas Takowski,

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<v Speaker 1>Eden Brown, and Jason Coke intro outro, and supporting music

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<v Speaker 1>created by the Wielding Module. Learn more at Module dot

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<v Speaker 1>bandcamp dot com. Music for the Farm tab media segment

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<v Speaker 1>New Toy Syndrome by Calvin Cardioid provided by King DeLux Records.

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<v Speaker 1>Learn more at king DeLux dot c a M. For

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<v Speaker 1>more podcasts from iHeart Radio, visit the i heart Radio app,

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