Vignettes From a World In Which Chickens Gain Sentience
"His name came to be known as Hox, in the fashion they all named themselves: one syllable, ends in the 'x' sound. There was no accounting for where their language came from, or why it was the same worldwide and seemingly unaffected by where they were from nationally. He was owned, thankfully, by a certain Merle Stockheim, a free-range farmer. Hox was laid on the chopping block to be slaughtered when he uttered the first words ever spoken from a chicken to a human:
*
through grainy footage taken from inside the slaughterhouse*: "'No... speak... no hax.'
"The chickens are calling themselves the Bek Foex, roughly translated to 'Enlightened People'. Hox had learned a little English from the farmer who raised him, but most of his words have to be slowly translated. For instance, the word 'hax' means "death", if we understand him correctly. The Bek Foex are learning their native tongues at a rapid pace, and World News This Evening will continue following the story as it progresses. With WNTE, I'm Alec Malcolm."
***
"Merle, you need to figure this out."
"Ethel, I'm trying honey, but this is something Daddy never warned me about."
"We're in trouble Merle! I've gotten six calls from the bank today. It's been a month now, and we aren't making any money."
"Ethel, what do you want me to do? I can't go back to the way it was! It... He... spoke to me, Ethel. I wouldn't have believed it in a million years. I've been doing this for a very long time."
"No ones blaming you, Merle. I'm sorry, I just worry. You know how I am."
"I know you do. I'm sorry too. You've been good to us."
"Merle, you've been doing so well for us too."
"God, though, I mean the chickens. I wonder how many others could have spoken to me if I'd given them the chance to do it. I wonder if I got lucky with Hox."
"None, Merle. Hox is the first. He understands what you do. He doesn't blame you. I don't blame you either. No one does."
"I can't farm chickens for a while. None of the others of them are talking or anything, but I just don't know."
"Just give it some time, Merle. I'm sure the answers will come."
"This is just bad news, Ethel. I don't know where the money is going to come from now."
***
"Welcome all to the International Forum on Ethics as Respects the Bek Foex. The IFERBF seeks to establish relations with the Bek Foex, previously known as 'chickens', and to formally recognize them as the first species besides
homo sapiens to demonstrate the power of sentient thought and self-awareness. I'm WNTE's Krystal Doherty, and I'll be acting as moderator tonight. And let me introduce the panelists..."
The camera panned across each man and woman as Ms. Doherty introduced them: Ed Sylvan, a noted evolutionary biologist, who was extremely fat with a combover and horn-rimmed glasses, had a smug grin on his face. Next was the Reverend Pedro Escoveda, among the highest ranking Jesuit priests from Arizona, the state Hox was from, coated in a fine sheen of nervous sweat. Seated beside him was Rita Gaust-Trudeau, a representative from Humans for Ethical Conduct to Beasts. She was small and trying to appear bigger. Ivan Pichushkin was next, a renowned philosopher and mathematician from Russia, where the greatest population of sentient chickens had been found thus far.
Finally, at the end of the row on a booster seat, stood Yax, a Shamo chicken from Japan who was formerly a cockfighter, before the sport was immediately banned in that country. The Japanese were at the forefront of developing tech that would allow the Bek Foex to communicate using human-like vocalizations, since they were severely limited without lips or more complex throat mechanisms for speaking with. With the Bek Foexii's help, the machine could fill in the gaps of what Yax was saying, and by nature of his work with the Japanese, he was probably the most fluent in human language out of all the Bek Foex in the world, which now numbered into the thousands and was growing every day.
"Let's have a hand for our panelists!" Ms. Doherty flashed her most telegenic smile as the crowd offered polite applause for the people who would decide how sentient chickens really were.
***
"I don't see what you're so worked up about, Lucky." Krystal rolled over to the bedside table, reaching for a cigarette. Alec sat on the edge of the bed, staring a single point on the wall while Krystal lit her smoke and took a long drag. "You report on tragic shit all the time. I don't know why this story is any different."
Alec chuckled a little under his breath. "Krys, this is a big deal. There are entire countries that use chickens for currency. I mean a sentient race, being traded back and forth... that doesn't strike you as heartless?"
"Never did before, Alec! Certainly not as heartless as funning it up with your coworker while your wife is out of town." Krystal sat up laughing and gave Alec a playful shove. He looked back at her over his shoulder, then stood up to walk to the bathroom. "Oh come on, Lucky, I was just kidding."
"I'm sorry Krys, it's just a lot to take in all at once."
"That's what I said. Oh, don't give me that look, come on."
"I gotta whiz. I still haven't heard if we're needing to go in today, after what happened at the forum."
"They can get someone else to cover the story, Alec."
"Right. Anyway." Alec stepped out of the room, away from that wretched smoke, and took a deep breath as he walked in and stood in front of the bathroom mirror. He looked into his own eyes for a second, trying to find... what? In times past he'd seen something there that he'd recently seen in one other creature's eyes—Yax the Bek Foexii's eyes. But what it was, he had no name for. A light maybe... no, that wasn't the right word. A spark? A pilot light. Well who knows. But it was in his own eyes, and in Yax's, and not in many others' eyes, not that he'd noticed. Certainly not in Krystal's eyes. No, she was something else he just did, usually without thinking, usually just accepting that it was how it was, and right or wrong it was something he was expected to do. He wondered if the pilot light was in his eyes when he did those things. He finished his business and returned to the bedroom, laying next to Krystal who had already put out her cigarette and was rubbing some floral scented lotion on her shoulders. He looked at her, engaged in this ritual she'd performed so many times before, and was filled with a sense of longing, but he wasn't sure what for.
"Krys, look at me, will you honey?" She turned, smiling, to look at him. He held her chin gently between his thumb and forefinger and scanned her eyes, but nothing was there. He put on a brave smile, but it was starting to crumble at the edges.
"Oh Lucky, my poor baby. Come here." Krystal lay back down and took Alec's head between her bosoms, running her delicate fingers through his hair. "Let momma make it all better."
***
"Can you believe this shit, Ethel?"
"Oh Merle, you know how these things go. News stations want people who look pretty and talk nice, and I love you honey, but you're not those people."
"But I found Hox! Or I should say he found me. Doesn't that count for anything?"
"Well you know how that goes. Hox isn't the big name in the news anymore either. People aren't really remembering any of the chickens' names at this point. I bet they just pulled that one on the panel off the streets. I wonder if he even knows anything about anything."
"Well I couldn't say Ethel. The thing said he's a Japanese chicken, so maybe he's got one of them talkboxes they supposedly developed. Oh... did you remember that Hox is coming over for dinner?"
"I remember Merle. Merle... does he HAVE to sit at the table with us? Now don't look at me that way, I'm just saying, he still doesn't wear clothes or anything, so everything he runs into out there is right there at the table. I'm pretty sure I actually saw a flea jump off him and on to the table last time he was here."
"I can't invite him to sit anywhere else, Ethel! I'm kind of surprised at you."
"Oh never mind Merle, forget I even asked. I hope he likes lamb chops, though."
***
"For years the HECB has been submitting the concept that animals are as understanding of their environments and situational conceits as any human, and now, sitting right at this table with us, is proof that we were right."
"Ms. Gaust-Trudeau, seriously!" Mr. Sylvan smirked even more deeply. "It's only recently that the chickens, the so-called Bek Foex, have crossed an evolutionary threshold heretofore unseen by any in human history. We can't apply the same logic to an animal like a cat, or a pigeon for example. That's unfair... to the evolutionary principles our understanding of biology are founded on."
Rev. Escoveda looked apoplectic. "Now see here! What's happened is a miracle of the Lord, and we're detracting from his magnanimity by seeking to explain what's happened in terms purely those of humans. If what you say is true, Mr. Sylvan, then why is it that only the chicken folk are now the ones speaking to us?"
"Indeed, what is sentience? Who are we to say that we have ever been more 'sentient' than the Bek Foex?" Ivan Pichushkin was speaking to no one in particular, but since his English was not where he'd hoped it would be by the time the forum was called, he was reading carefully from some prepared statements on index cards in a pile in front of him. "Perhaps before we can determine how sentient our new friends are, we should determine how sentient we actually are."
"Rev. Escoveda! Mr. Sylvan!" Rita Gaust-Trudeau ignored Ivan entirely. "Now the point isn't how it happened, or why. The point..."
"Isn't that the point entirely? It's not as though a panel has ever been called to determine another species' God-given sentience." Mr. Sylvan glared at the Reverend, but Escoveda ignored him. "We need to determine what has opened the opportunity for free will to the chickens, why God in His mercy has seen fit to—"
"God has seen nothing!" Mr. Sylvan's face was firm, but retained an amount of its smugness. "As it stands, there is far more evidence to suggest that the Bek Foex have obtained this conceit through years of conditioning in congress with humanity than that their newfound sentience is the result of a sudden change in their mental biology."
"And what congress is that, Mr. Sylvan? Years of humans hunting them, breeding them to excess, engineering their genes to produce a product in just 13 weeks, trimming their beaks back so they can no longer peck each other to death and pumping them full of antibiotics? Are you suggesting that while humanity was already committing these atrocities against them, they were progressively gaining the sentience to understand what was happening?"
"I admit it's unfortunate, Ms. Gaust-Trudeau, but a great many truths in this world are, and—"
"Hmmph." Rita rolled her eyes and glared with contempt at her fellow panelists. "What's unfortunate is that it took a chicken talking for humans to open their eyes and see that they feel pain and suffer and deserve the same liberties as humans do, maybe some more since they are so defenseless."
"I have prepared a small presentation to explore the mystery of free will and sentience, referring to various philosophical precedents, holy writings, and biological textbooks discussing the matter!" Ivan pounded his fist on the table, not because he felt very strongly about his presentation but because it seemed the spirit of the forum now, and he wanted to be heard.
"Ms. Gaust-Trudeau, with all due respect to our friend at the end of the table—" Rev. Escoveda gestured toward Yax—"humans are children of God. It is a misdirected kindness to offer others of His creatures the same or greater liberties extended to themselves. The Bek Foex have different needs and desires than we humans do; your thoughts, Yax?"
Yax reluctantly opened his beak to speak, but was promptly interrupted by Krystal Doherty. "Lady and gentlemen, please... save your comments for a few moments as we hear from our sponsors!" Another telegenic smile, another burst of polite applause from the audience, and Ivan gestured for everyone to quiet down so he could begin his presentation right as the program cut to commercial.
***
"Good evening, I'm Alec Malcolm, here with some breaking news developing on the Bek Foex.
In Japan researchers have, mere minutes ago, announced the mass production of a device that can interpret the broken vocalizations of Bek Foexii speech in the human languages they are attempting to speak to us in. The work was a collaboration between a previously unknown research firm called Niwatori Gengo-gaku Ningen Kenkyūjo, and the Bek Foex themselves. The firm, which calls itself "Tori" in shorthand, has been working with private funding to bridge the gaps in communication between the newly sentient chickens and humans. Tori hopes to have the devices available for reasonable prices in a short time.
"In other news, the LCCK corporation has reported declines in sales of 75%. 75%... wait, that means... uh... the company has reportedly been researching alternative forms of meat to replace the chickens out of respect for the Bek Foex, and maintain that all of their poultry is still certified non-sentient. Questions remain concerning the legitimacy of such certifications, as there has not been an official consensus on how sentience is to be defined in terms of food animals as of yet. With the new devices, Tori plans to send a representative to meet with a select panel of experts to make such determinations as to the future of the Bek Foex, indeed of all small fowl everywhere. I'm Alec Malcolm."
***
The blinds were closed and only slivers of light shone through the edges of them into the conference room. A group of men in business suits sat at a long table with a speakerphone at the end, where a tall, thin man stood looking over the board.
"Gentlemen. Thank you for joining us. On conference we should have Guzman in Mexico, Gurpreet in India, and I think Johnson is doing the heavy lifting on this conference from China, is that correct?"
"Correct." The voice over the conference phone was tinny but clear. The other two men announced their proxy attendance, and the thin man made a couple little ticks on the iPad he was clutching tightly in his right hand.
"All right, let's get started here without much ado, if we can. I suppose it's redundant to try and outline exactly what we're up against, here, but let me cite a few statistics if I can. So first—" the thin man pressed a button on a remote, and a Powerpoint presentation lit up the wall behind him—"chicken is among the most efficient forms of animal protein on the planet, taking just two pounds of feed to produce a pound of edible flesh. Most of what is lost in terms of waste is water, but obviously Good! Brands has been at the forefront of learning how to reclaim that resource, both as an economic boon to our own interests and as healthy PR for those activists more moderate than your typical HECB nutjob." The man paused for a few scattered laughs from the board, then carried on. "A huge portion of the world won't eat beef, another huge portion won't eat pork. It's for this reason that LCCK was the first American chain to open in Ramallah, in the West Bank. We have a nearly universally appealing product. Before this year, sales were second only to O'Donnell's, and gaining."
"Look Peter, we know this stuff already." A black man with a graying beard and wire-rimmed glasses was shaking his head at the thin man. "We also know this business with the Bek Foex or whatever is gonna be more trouble even than it already has been. I assume we were gathered here to come up with solutions."
"Well yes and no, James. I think we might have arrived at some sort of solution already. Johnson, can you fill in the gaps for us?" Peter reached over to turn the speakerphone up a little bit.
"Well, we've been privately funding a research firm in Japan that's developing a speech box of sorts, using a dummy corporation set up via our branch here in Beijing, and the idea is that the device will make the sentient chickens more understandable."
"So it's coming across like a charity, then? This is a big PR stunt?"
"Is that you, Francis? James? No, nothing like that I'm afraid. Actually we have a mole implanted in the production line who is adding a couple extra circuitways to the devices to mistranslate key phrases. The idea isn't to make eating the sentient chickens acceptable, because let's face it, even WE'RE not that ruthless, but rather to allow us an opportunity to reach a happy medium where we can sell product that isn't sentient, like certified or something."
"Hmm. So how do you get those devices distributed on the mainstream then?"
Peter turned the speakerphone back to its regular volume again. "Well, that's another little innovation. We used Tori to call a large forum on ethics to determine how relations with the sentient chickens should go. We're intending to use that as a platform to get them distributed widely."
"I like it. I wish we'd been filled in earlier on this, but I have no objections either. All in agreement?"
A round of fists pounding the table sounded off in approval of this new company innovation.
***
"So as you can see, it is perhaps deepest mystery that humans can even be considered sentient at all. Perhaps our 'sentience' is only other word we use to identify our own race, as the dolphins identify their schools with complex clicks, and the monkeys use distinct chirps and cries to identify and distinguish their own families." Ivan then sat down, having finally had a chance to speak without being interrupted.
"So Mr. Pichushkin, you mean to tell me that humans are NOT sentient at all?" Mr. Sylvan had lost any indication of ever being anxious or angry, and was now awash in the smarmy satisfaction that comes from being the smartest person in the room. Ivan smiled at him and nodded warmly, unaware of the bitter facetiousness with which the question had been posed to him.
"Mr. Ed, don't browbeat Ivan that way. Maybe he has a point, no?" The Reverend had found a way to both insult Mr. Sylvan and annoy Rita, by using a classic animal entertainer's title disguised as an affectionate nickname. "Maybe we should explore all possibilities—"
"Ms. Doherty, are you going to do nothing about this?" Krystal merely smiled into the camera, unaware she'd even been addressed. She had not been selected for her gravitas, at any rate. Mr. Sylvan started to turn a light shade of red.
"I'm inclined to agree with Mr. Pichushkin myself!" Rita pushed up her glasses, although she couldn't help but send a glare of contempt the priest's way. "If anything, this is further philosophical proof that the HECB has had just cause for determining humanity's place as equals or slightly lesser in stature than the beasts we claim to have domination over! The Bek Foex are just the beginning—we predict that, soon, all manner of fauna and perhaps even flora will begin to exhibit intelligence beyond its own reckoning—"
"This is absurd! There is no relevance to the debate in proclaiming that humans are as indeterminate as animals! None!"
"On the contrary, Mr. Sylvan, it would establish that the Bek Foex have equal footing with mankind, who was made in God's image, and therefore gives rise to all sorts of new questions concerning the nature of God: Is He perhaps a chimera of sorts, a chicken-man?"
"God is a spirit, Reverend. I mean to say that the Bible says he is, if it were any more credible than an slightly less educated guess on the matter."
"Perhaps that's another question we should be asking! What about cross species marriage and intercourse? Will the same stigmas be placed on a relationship between a human and a Bek Foex as cross-species intercourse carries today?"
"Bestiality is a sin, Ms. Gaust-Trudeau! Almost universally so!"
"A sin, perhaps, but why, Reverend?! Perhaps the prevention of cross-species reproduction has been the entire key to keeping animals from gaining the same self-awareness humans exhibit!"
"Argument that you are carrying is irrelevant!" A robotic voice sounded from the end of the table for the first time that night, and the drone of voices running into each other dissipated into silence as the panelists slowly, sheepishly, realized that they'd spent the entire night arguing about their own sapience and had barely, if ever, touched on the Bek Foex. But Yax stood now in front of the microphone, looking down the table and then out to the audience. "You sex, call it is not by calling sex we."
The room was quiet as Yax looked over the crowd, then fiddled with a couple knobs. "Sorry with the device, problems of syntax. Please give me a moment." The device squealed a couple times and Yax would furiously shake his head in frustration, but kept at it until he thought he'd found the right mix. "Let's trying to start it here. Well then, what we call sex is you don't call sex. We are not committed or monogamous in our relations. We do not have a sense of what you can call privacy, we do not wear clothes or keep currency. Although before you get the perception of many, have defined our lives, today also defines our lives. Wait, no..." Yax turned a knob or two again... "Much of what defined our lives before defines our lives now. Yes, that's it. The only difference is that we are aware of what we do."
Yax continued on, the crowd transfixed. "As sexual intercourse and relations are defined differently between our two peoples, so wisdom and perception are differently defined. Our understanding of around us now is very different than what those wise less than we, but we are alive, it is considered, and how uncivilized we are seen is still likely to be high. I will continue to fight the other cock? No, of course not. Many of the old life of us, though, it is also part of the new life of us. Yet, we would not extend the same treatment to a method of your own life. We understand fully that our way is just starting to grow, meanwhile, your way, we understand, has been developed over the years. We would ask that in the same way, for that understanding, as from we. When we are striving to understand the culture and beliefs of you who want to strive to understand us, the whole world rejoices. Ask us questions. Let us answer you with the voice of our own. We can talk."
Rita Gaust-Trudeau was crying. The Reverend crossed himself. Ivan was trying desperately to understand what was being said, already having a hard time with perfect English, but he was slowly putting the pieces together, and with every bit of new understanding his face brightened perceptibly, till he was almost grinning ear to ear. Ed Sylvan showed no emotion at all, but sat with his face contorted in an odd expression, still turning colors.
Krystal finally managed to catch her breath at the spectacle. "Mr. Yax..."
"Only Yax is required, madam."
"Yes... yes! Haha... yes. Yax, what do you think of companies like the Louisville Crispy Chicken Kompany, the number two fast food chain in the world and the number one buyer of poultry meat products? Will such companies have a future in a post Bek Foex world?"
"Question is strange, but I will try to answer to you. We have noted that for the most human, it is unwilling to eat the other primates. For example, what makes a human less edible so a chimpanzee? Nevertheless, it does not exceed our guess that humans would feel a certain kinship with their closest relatives of biology, and we trust you will understand that is the same for us. We can not stop you from eating our less enlightened father and mother and brothers and cousins, but we would ask that you reconsider the meaning of what you do. In them still there is a possibility of enlightenment!"
"Yes, Yax, but..." Mr. Sylvan was sweating terribly suddenly, and seemed to be struggling with his words. "There are entire systems of currency built on trading those less enlightened of you, and entire cuisines developed around eating their flesh. I admit this is a little strange for me to be saying to you, but only a year ago did it even seem possible that somehow I would be speaking to any other creature besides a human and expect them to understand. I trust you understand what I'm asking you now: how can we so radically change such a fundamental part of our humanity to give you yours, in a manner of speaking? What can we do to bridge..." His voice trailed off as he held his breath, then began to cough. The sound engineer turned down his microphone, although his cough continued to bleed into the Reverend's mic. Krystal looked at Yax despairingly.
"Right, well. As far as eating our less enlightened brethren... we do not see a problem." The crowd gasped, and Yax cocked his head to the side. To everyone in the room he was exhibiting a perfectly chicken-like behavior, but for any Bek Foex watching, he was confused at what had just been said, for he'd meant to say, "we do not see how there is no problem." He tried again with several different phrasings, but each time it seemed to come out more as an endorsement for eating chickens as long as they were not Bek Foex. Gradually the crowd began to applaud Yax and the Bek Foex for their generosity and understanding toward humans and their determined ways. About that moment Ed Sylvan turned completely blue and passed out.
EMTs were rushed to the scene, but he was declared dead of a massive coronary by the time they arrived. The forum was ended quickly in an effort to minimize any negativity that may have been associated with the stunning announcement. The press would go on to report that the conclusions drawn from the forum were that chickens not exhibiting any signs of enlightenment from birth until 18 weeks would be acceptable for slaughter and consumption. However, commercial chicken farming would have to be greatly overhauled considering the implications. Still, for the most part life would go on as normal, it would seem.
***
"Ethel! Ethel, my God!"
"What Merle, what?"
"Hox heard what that Yax said. That device was a lie! It twisted his words!"
"Hox heard that, did he? So what else did Hox say?"
"Ethel, they don't want us to eat chickens. They don't think it's right. I don't think it's right either. Not anymore. Not after what I've seen and heard. Not after what Hox said."
"Well no one's making you! You haven't since the day you found Hox."
"I know, but this is different. I have to do something different now. I can't keep doing this—"
"Merle, what are you saying? Are you giving up the farm?"
"I don't know what else I CAN do, Ethel. I don't know—"
"Merle Stockheim, now you listen to me. Now I'm 64 years old and I'm trying to do right by the world and always have. We didn't start this farm because we thought it would make a whole lot of money, and we were right. Free range chicken farming just isn't profitable in a world where most of what we sell can be made in a factory far more cheaply, I understand that! But we did this because we believed in a product, and we believed in making that product available in a manner that lets us sleep at night. Merle, that's all anyone wants to do! They want to sleep at night! This was our dream, Merle! Don't you remember having dreams? Now you don't want to eat chicken anymore, if that helps you sleep at night, that's fine! But I haven't slept in a year, Merle, not since this happened, because I'm worried every night that it will be our last with a roof over our heads! I haven't been able to dream in a year, Merle! Now I need you to get back to work, or I just can't stay here anymore Merle!"
"Ethel, I...I...can't..."
"Never mind Merle. I know what this means to you and I love you too much to deprive you of it. I'm going into town tonight, and I don't know when I'll be back. You and Hox can have the run of our house, but keep him out of our bed because I'll not have it flea-ridden if I ever decide to return!"
"Ethel, come back honey! Please... oh Ethel."
***
"Alec, what the hell? I'm still waiting for the big bang!"
"Krys... I need to know something. Why did you ask that Bek Foex what you did? About LCCK?"
"What, at the forum? Alec, it was just a question, and look at the response it got!"
"No Krys, I know you. I've watched you too many times, and when I see you're being fed a line you turn your right ear to whoever you're addressing briefly, like you're trying to hear them better. No one else is going to notice it, but I will Krystal."
Krystal's smile melted away. "Alec, so what if I WAS fed a question? I was just doing my job."
"Don't you see? There's something very wrong with what Yax said at the forum."
"Something wrong? There's something very RIGHT with it! Look at how little our lives have to change! They really did us a solid here. Haha, solid sounds nice right about now."
"Krys! Don't you ever think about anything other than screwing?"
"NO! Actually I don't!" Krystal was suddenly very angry. "Look Lucky... goddammit... I did a story on gorillas signing that they wanted bananas a long ass time ago, and I didn't see humanity there and I don't see it in the goddamn chickens! Now I'm sorry if you're always looking for something that doesn't exist, but frankly if you want something real then you should stop poking your co-worker and get a real girlfriend, and stop sitting at your desk and get out in the real world and report on something real and get yourself shot like every other 'respectable' journalist and make almost no money in the process. You should do all those things because if people like you had their way, we'd all be eating pieces of chicken-flavored soy pattie for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and trying desperately to call THAT real! Or you could just be happy with what you're given and accept it for what it is and be happy when the few things that really matter in your life come along, because you can actually call them real. Most of what you're doing with yourself is cheap, Lucky. You know it and I know it, and we're both just trying to fill that space with whatever we can, which is why I actually DON'T think about anything other than screwing, because sometimes that's all I have."
Alec just stared at Krystal for a long, long time. Finally he jumped on top of her and they kissed and made love until neither one could think straight, and slept soundly. When he woke up he was still on top of her, and rolled off and out of bed, heading toward the shower, knowing that it was the last time he'd ever see her naked.
***
"Johnson, it's two in the morning in Louisville."
"I'm sorry Peter. I had to explain to you what's going on."
Peter sat up in his bed, trying to be quiet so as not to wake his wife. He removed the cordless set from the phone and walked to the hallway. "All right."
"So a big part of what we're up against now is that our corporate suppliers are up against much more restrictive practices by the FDA. The plan was only a partial success because the concept of potential still made it through."
"Well never send a rat to do a mole's job, you know. So what did you figure out Terry?"
"Most chickens, including Bek Foex, are still surviving on a specific blend of feed that originates from Monsanto. With a few tweaks to the genomes of their patented strains, we can effectively diminish the intelligence of the Bek Foex, not to mention they already have a much shorter lifespan owing to their genetics. Sentience grants them more than a few weeks as per usual, but we have to make it appear as though sentience was more of an anomaly, and a one-time event at that. Once there are no more sentient chickens, China branch estimates the FDA will restore original standards within two years."
"Whew. Still a long time to be losing money, but maybe we'll be in a better place by then, with the development of the Krill Grillers we're rolling out next month. Say Terry... how the hell did you manage to work out a way to use corn genetics to affect chicken intelligence?"
"Well Peter, I'll be honest. Yax was very helpful in that regard. We asked him if we could briefly study his brain to learn more about the Bek Foex, and like we expected, he was all too happy to comply. I think sometimes those little bastards are too proud of their brains. Anyway, we've picked apart every last little bit of it, and we're pretty sure we know how to stop the triggers that cause sentience."
"It's innate to the breed?"
"Not the breed, Peter. The species. They all have it. Some have it suppressed and others have it in abundance. But it's easy enough to completely decode and, eventually, engineer out of poultry entirely."
"Huh. So tell me this one Johnson... that Yax, was he delicious?"
A long silence on the other side. "You know Peter, he really was."
***
"Hello, I'm Alec Malcolm, and here are tonight's top stories.
"Rix, the young female who has been determined by top researchers at Tori and its American subsidiaries to be the last Bek Foex in existence, has passed away. She was 22 months old. Most evolutionary biologists have concluded that chicken sentience was a brief, enlightening but ultimately unsuccessful attempt by chickens to cross a threshold heretofore unseen. Rix was born with the condition known as Thlax, in which cognitive function diminishes in chickens and can be diagnosed by regression, depression, and chronic lung problems.
"Peter Sanders of Good! Brands, owners of the Louisville Crunchy Chicken Kompany, has announced growth in sales for the first time in almost three years this quarter. Of all chicken outlets, only theirs has proven to be entirely free of Thlax, which does seem to have effects on the human nervous system, though it requires more research...
"No.
"I can't do this anymore. I've been reporting on chicken affairs since they first began to unfold, and I know I'm not the only one who thinks there's something terribly wrong with our society. I may never be able to prove anything, but I cannot help but feel like the regression of enlightenment in chickens was not a genetic anomaly, but a willful act on the part of some humans—perhaps a terrorist bloc, a group of religious fundamentalists or ultra-conservatives who cannot stomach change, even a shady corporation somewhere with the resources to do so—to bring chickenkind back to where they came from. Pecking in the dirt and surviving but not living.
"This will mean my job, but I can't do this job anymore if it means lying to the American people and to myself. Too long have we suppressed our intelligence, our enlightenment, that inner spark, that pilot light that ignites the flames of our progression. We halt our own progress and the progress of the entire natural world by our superstition, our willful ignorance, and our hatred. An entire race, an entire species, wiped out in less than a year, and we're immediately setting our teeth on the dregs of their corpses. Well I won't do it. I won't and you shouldn't either. For as long as you have the fight in you, keep going forward. If you look at yourself in a year and you're in the same place, you haven't moved an inch, and forward is the only place to go. Embrace the change. Embrace that inner spark. The longer you tell yourself the lie, the more likely you'll begin to believe it.
"This is Alec Malcolm with WNTE, signing off. Good luck."
*Sporadic applause can be heard from the camera crew before the feed is cut and the screen goes dark*.