Tweak

Shin sat amongst files and files, papers and printouts of financial records dating back to the founding of the families. The only way avoid suspicion was to investigate all the families, to exam the financial records of everyone. Each family was strictly run, with each member of council auditing the funds of families not their own when called on to do so.

Which was fine, each family had failed the audit several times throughout their history, one person or another thought to steal or miss-use the funds they were responsible for. Problems were corrected and the council moved on without penalizing the family itself short of asking for the money stolen to be placed in the pool instead of being returned to the original owner.

Each family had daily costs, just as any other family did. The families paid for tutors and servants, bills and the upkeep of the family estate, the tweaker estate as well as numerous vacation manors in the wilds and in various cities. This money came directly out of a family’s income with each rank paying so much money out of their personal income into the family income. As incomes went up, or need went up, the amount coming out of each rank increased.

If the family had fewer bills to pay, the amount of money going towards the family income did not decrease. The surplus was placed into an account to accumulate wealth. Any money left in personal accounts after a person died, and the willed amount was given over to the pool, went into the family income. If a family was short on money because they hadn’t enough members, they could apply to other families for minor loans, which instead of being paid back to the original family were placed in the pool.

Placing owed money into the pool instead of repaying the original family kept the families from being indebted to other families. The pool paid for alterations for the tweaks in times of need but also, should the genetic families fall, the tens of trillions would be divided by the tweaker families to repurchase the lands and to supplant the genetic families. Essentially, the genetic families had provided the tweakers with enough money to buy the genetic families back out of debt. In return for such an action, the genetic families would serve the tweakers as the tweakers had served the families.

The pool could also be used to pay for education above and beyond the ’public’ tutors the genetics used for their own children. Ash’s education as an office of the law was recorded as having been paid out by the pool. It was not often that the pool was accessed by tweakers for education. Most tweakers took the education offered to them by the tutors of the genetics and hit the ground running. Small, odd jobs in the genetics’ companies, jobs at the companies that ran the genetic manipulations.

Because of what Ash had said the night before, Shin and pulled up the financial records for the tweaker families. Each family was, in its own right, rich. The tweakers did not pay for their own alterations, they didn’t care what alterations were made and thus, simply allowed the genetics to pay and choose what should change. Tweaker families were a mingling of many different sources. Commoners and genetics alike had joined the tweaker families over the years.

Not paying for the alterations to themselves, their children or their children’s children meant that the tweakers were able to save most of the money they earned. Their houses were set up like the fund families. With one very big difference, family income, personal income, clan income, it had no meaning to tweakers. What one person earned, they all owned so long as they worked. Ash could access the funds of his siblings, his parents, even the funds of generations long dead.

Shin could do nothing of the sort. If Shin wanted a new shirt, he had to pull money from his personal income. If Ash wanted a new shirt, Ash took the card that was tagged to his fingerprint and went out and bought a shirt, with the funds coming out of the bank account that everyone owned.

If Shin’s family were set up like Ash’s family, Shin’s family would still be richer. So would four other genetic families.

The Meita family was not broke, per say. They made a good deal of money and that money, within the given rank rates, flowed into the family income. The family income paid for the bills but there wasn’t enough money left over to make more than a marginal deposit in the savings account. A few hundred each month was nothing compared to the trillions all the other families had saved.

The savings account was virtually empty. The family had spent extravagant amounts on something called PRD, which, given the genetic inclination of the family, was a division of a genetic conglomerate that was aimed at researching power use and its predictability. The company PRD was doing well, its stock was quite high. But the Meitas hadn’t bought stock, they had put money into the company, a good deal of money.

Shin knew the receipt was in amongst the piles of paper but he wasn’t certain which pile of papers it would be with. Or, for that matter, if it was even with the papers. The receipt could have been in one of the micro cards or on one of the discs that he hadn’t reached yet. The family had purchased something from PRD, basically and were either waiting for it to come to fruition or the project had failed.

Thus, the family was technically out of money. Auditing processes did not account for the money in a family’s savings account. It only looked into the money flowing in through various jobs and how the money was being spent. The auditor would ensure that each family was doing legal jobs and that they were not buying anything illegal with their money.

Auditors never looked at the savings accounts of the families. Because of this, families pulled money from savings accounts to do alterations. Receipts for items bought with the special cards that were linked to the savings accounts of the families could not be brought before the council as evidence. Such purchases could not be seen by another family. Thus, if an alteration was purchased by a family through a savings account, no one outside of the family could see how much money was spent on any genetic child.

The companies that did the genetic alterations kept records of all alterations done and who paid for them, how much was paid. Upon request, Shin could ask the companies who paid for what, but not how much was paid, or for what services rendered. He could walk in at any time and ask the company that had technically created him and ask them if it was his own family who had paid for his alterations.

He had to find someone who had been altered.

Which would require knowing who was being prepped for creation. The money paid out to the PRD company was paid after the tenth generation was born, thus it was the eleventh generation he needed to view.

Except most of the Meita family was harvesting their females for breeding. The elder of his generation was not a good place to start, her eggs could be going to anyone and everyone. Newer families wanted to join the ranks of the genetics, to be included in the exclusive breeding rights. By using the elder’s eggs, they could jump their children’s generational status. A fifth generation born using some genetic material from the elder would produce a seventh or eighth generation.

Going on an impulse, Shin picked up his phone and plugged it into his computer. He put on a shirt and made himself look presentable then sat down in front of the computer. A few clicks and he was in an online camera phone and dialling the genetic company in charge of Meita’s alterations.

“Hello and thank you for calling Gomesh Genetics, you dream it, we create it. This is Evera Gomesh speaking, daughter of the chair, heir of the company. Four years customer service with third to tenth generations. I, myself, am a seventh generation, how may I help you today Shin Ishteshtin, fifteenth born of the tenth generation, sixth born to the Ishteshtin line and genetic investigator?”

Gomesh used their own children as tweakers, showing off what they could do. Evera’s hair was speckled with shades of blonde and brown, her eyes were half green-half blue with defined ridges of darker colours. Her skin was pale and, by the people walking behind her, she was taller than the tallest amongst Shin’s family.

Genetic investigator, was that the Meita rank equivalent of his job? Being an investigator gave Shin a leg up. It was his job to investigate other companies, to propose purchasing their research for his own use.

“I call in reference to a female of the Meita clan, is this acceptably by your companies policies?”

“Under the free privacy act of our fifth generation, we are required to tell you ahead of such questioning that one of your ranking is permitted limited access to genetic files, who was the original owners of the genetic material provided and used in the creation of a child. The financial law act of your second generations, as stated by the council of six requires that I inform you that you may ask who paid for which child’s alterations.

“Due to the capitalism constitution initiated in our fourth generation, we do require all payments to be made in full before production of a child begins. If one of the donators of material is female, it is required that the payment be noted and that the down payment, for storage of the material and collection of the material, is paid before collection is begun and paid in full upon the usage of the material. If the materials sit in our vaults for five years or five thousand years, the storage fee is the same.

“Given compliancy rights,” something the companies had made amongst themselves. One company per family, there were six new genetic families that were between fifth and seventh generations and each family had come together and protested how the genetics had harboured secrets from the other companies. Each company was, essentially, making the same mistakes as every other company, costing millions of dollars a year and countless lives to be lost. The companies had demanded what they called compliancy rights, the right to comply with inquiries about certain genetic sequences. Basically, if one company discovered that adding the genetic material of lemons made a genetic child that was bright yellow and had a short shelf life, the original company shared with the other companies, “we are bound to inform you that your company and ours are currently in a race of biological standards.”

“Inquire into biological standards.”

Evera smiled, the upturn of her lips reaching her eyes as she turned her head for just a moment and clicked at something to side, “classified, unfortunately one Shin Ishteshtin, fifteenth born of tenth generation, sixth born to the Ishteshtin line and genetic investigator does not have access to these files. If you wish to inquire further into the matter, please contact your head of household with your questions.

“Inquiry?”

Shin paused. Meshnan would have answered any questions he had. He had been secretly hoping that Evera would tell him what new biological standard was being investigated. Biological standards could make companies millions of dollars, standards were things that would go to the commoners with each new generation. It was biological standard to influence the immune system to repel most harmful viruses and to allow a very specific virus into the system. It was biological standard to provide height and intelligence, to try to close the gap between the genetic capabilities and the common people.

“Inquiry, one barely mature female named Uwahnallahnea Meita, third born tenth generation.”

The smile changed just slightly. It was an almost knowing smile as Evera clicked at something to the side. Shin almost missed the sideways glance, the look that he had seen Meshnan give a middle born child who was introducing their future breeding partner. Evera though Shin liked Uwahn. Well, let her think what she liked.

“Female, first created, announced three point four minutes after Mysh Ishteshtin, almost elder of tenth generation.”

“Pause. Elder is not Uwahn.”

“Uwahn would have been elder, had Mysh not been announced,” Evera nodded once, “foetus put into cryo after announcement, awaiting mother’s desire. Implanted twenty-five years ago, born twenty-four years ago,” three years before the Meita family dumped so much money into PRD, “three tag. Four tag. Six side, seven tee four.”

Notations for alterations, “I am familiar with all but seven tee four.”

“Seven tee four is a company wide command structure, excuse me, one moment please.” Evera clicked a button and put him on hold.

Shin tried not to look upset as he casually stroked the built in mouse pad and looked up ‘seven tee four.’ There was no information on the item. Shin looked up company wide command structure. Each company programmed a command structure into the genetic material of their creations. Layaent was programmed, under their own coding, as an ADCL, Alpha Dominant Casual Leader. Having read it, Shin couldn’t help but feel just a little frightened.

Even his submissive stature was written in his genetic code, chosen by the company and applied to prevent genetic children from straying too far. Layaent was first born and so his code stated that he would be the leader of his generational siblings. If Uwahn was created to be first born of the generation, made to be elder, it was likely that she was programmed similar to Layaent. Her company had simply called their command structure by a different name.

Evera pulled Shin off of hold, thusly bringing the camera phone window to the foreground.

“Sorry about the wait and thank you for holding, this is Evera Gomesh of Gomesh Genetics, you dream it, we create it, inquiry?”

“Inquiry, payments.”

“To which account?”

“Uwahnallahnea Meita.”

“One Uwahnallahnea Meita was paid for by the Meita clan.”

“Who is submitting payment for harvesting and storage of her eggs?”

“May I put you on hold while I make an inquiry as to the legality of your inquiry?”

“By all means, I would not wish you to overstep your legal obligations to answer my question, take the time you need.”

“Very well, and thank you for your patience.” Evera smiled and the screen went back to hold.

Shin rubbed at the side of his neck and flicked his screens to his actual work. Thirty command lines later and he was looking at his email. That was all his job was, at that point, to read the emails sent to him and to respond to inquiries as per votes. There were several others in his position and each of them had a vote in what was introduced for tweakers and even for the next generation.

He answered the emails that required immediate response and deleted what could be deleted. His day of work being done, Shin closed his email and checked the hold screen. He had been on hold for half an hour.

Not entirely certain if he was about to get bitten in the ass for an inquiry, Shin pulled up a new window and did an internet search on the laws of compliance and the free rights. He had just come to the conclusion, two hours later, that he had been perfectly in the right to ask the question he had asked, when Evera popped back onto his screen.

“Hello, and thank you for waiting. This is a response as per your inquiry into the harvesting and storage of one Uwahnallahnea Meita’s eggs. I am bound by law to inform you that your inquiry, while being denied by the family itself, has legal grounds. Gomesh Genetics is always a law abiding company and we ask that you acknowledge this.”

“I do.” It was simply the company’s way of stating for a record that they were handing over the information because the law demanded it. No family could fire a company that obeyed the laws, without drawing unwanted scrutiny.

“Certainly,” Evera paused for one moment and shifted her attention to another screen, “one moment please,” she said to the screen before turning back to Shin, “the payment for harvesting and storage of the eggs in question was made, in full, as a one time payment from the Hawk family.”

“Hawk?”

“I am not legally bound to tell you who they are, as we, Gomesh Genetics, do not keep records as per the homes or ranks of the people who pay our bills.”

“Right, I apologise, I was simply thrown off by the name.”

“That is the name on the account. Hawk Family Income.”

“I thank you for your answers and your promptness.”

“You are most welcome, please feel free to call back at any time.”

“I…” wait. Was Evera suggesting that Shin should call for pleasure instead of business? “will consider it.”

Evera smiled and closed the window. Shin shut down his computer and removed his phone. He had missed two calls while he had been on that call. One informed him that Mysh had been found calmer than usual and would be joining the family in the wilds. The second was Ash demanding to know what the hell Shin had said and to whom.

Shin turned to the files, something suddenly dawning on him.

All of the accounts said the tweaker family of the Meita or the tweaker family of the Ishteshtin. None of the tweaker families had names listed on any legal forms. Shin assumed it was because, technically, each tweaker family had begun as several small families of varying blood relations. The small units had become one family over time and was simply counted as one family. If the families were anything like the tweakers Shin knew, then they would have dropped their surnames and chosen one name to represent the whole of the family.

Shin looked up Ash’s number, then dialled it. The phone went straight to his voice message.

“You’ve reached Ashientshisu Toleran-”

Shin hung up the phone and called Ash’s place of work. He gave his name, first and last, and his generation, used a bit of patronising tone on the woman on the other end and asked a very simple question. Where were Ash’s pay checks going to?

“Uhm, lessee, officers of law are always happy to work with the Ishteshtin,” she said, obviously the officers would be happy to help Shin out, his family had paid for that new fleet of squad cards, “so just give me one minute… there it is. Oh, this can’t be right?”

“What’s it say?”

“The account name is Hawk Family Income.”

As in, all the savings of the tweakers who ‘belonged’ to the Meita family. If Hawk was their chosen name, what the hell did Toleran…

Meant hawk in the Emperor’s language. Shin would have laughed, if he wasn’t so very afraid of making the stand before the council of six, as he would have to do to present the information. He could tell them that he was making a simple inquiry into the family, because of the breeding proposal they had made to him. That might work, claiming to want and need information about the family one was about to bind oneself to was not uncommon.

Alright, that was his excuse for doing the investigation in the first place. What the hell was his excuse for not going to the council of six? One that would, preferably, not result in Layaent hunting him down and pulling his hair?

***

“Ash, council of six want to see you, said you’d know what the message meant?” the addle brained secretary frowned at her notepad as if certain that she couldn’t possibly have gotten the message written down properly.

“They work fast,” Bri muttered, motioning for the secretary to leave.

Ash sighed out as the door closed, he tried not to show how rattled he was. His fund family had called and shouted at him for several hours. The steward had threatened to dock his income and had gone so far as to suggest that he had control over what Ash’s children would look like. His breeding rights had been revoked, not that he had any to start, as had his right to go to after parties, which they had no control over.

He pushed off the desk and sighed again, about to say that he should head over to the Ishteshtin estate, where the council would have convened, when the secretary popped her head back in the door, grinning, “they just called back, want Bri there as well.”

The door closed and Bri went a funny colour, “me in a room full of genetics?”

“There’s no time to wash, when the council calls you, you come immediately,” Ash muttered, “they’ve put up with worse smelling people than you,” Bri glared at him, “we’ve been working since last night on this case, you aren’t exactly a ray of fucking sunshine.”

“Yes, and you, I’m sure, don’t smell at all.”

Ash blinked at Bri, hand halfway to picking up his jacket from the seat he had been lazing in when the secretary had entered, “smell? I give off pheromones about sex and fear and the like, but I don’t exactly smell. Body odour was the second thing to go.”

“What was the first?” Bri asked, putting on her own jacket.

All Ash did was make a motion downward. He left the office with Bri trailing close behind, asking all kinds of questions as per the genetic inheritance of such an alteration and if the world ended would the genetics still be that large or would they revert back to regular size? Doing the best he could to ignore Bri, Ash slid into the passenger seat of Bri’s car and rolled the window all the way down. The small area seemed suffocating.

Bri climbed in beside Ash and started the car, “How big are you, anyway?”

“Big enough.”

“Why isn’t it a standard, then, larger penises around. Everyone gets a larger penis. Less patience? More penis for you good man. There would be,” Bri shook her finger at Ash, “a lot less criminals about if the government was handing out free larger penises and libidos for women.”

“But they make a lot of money off of the larger penises,” Ash growled, stopped and frowned at Bri, “and the libidos for women are free. Women’s rights activists demanded that every female be capable of enjoying sex instead of one in three. They also, by the way and to answer your other question, wanted larger penises banned from standard. The companies managed to talk them out of banning it entirely by donating a small portion to specific charities. Or. Something.”

“Or something?” Bri asked, pulling out of the parking lot.

“They. May have assigned each woman a tweaker who had it as a standard,” Ash muttered.

Bri was too busy giggling to herself like a school girl over the idea of uptight women’s rights activists being seduced to save the genetic code that gave men larger penises. The ride was fairly quiet, besides the random snickering coming from the driver’s seat.

Pulling up to the estate, the guard at the gate didn’t stop them, he opened the gates as they pulled up. At the door several eighth generation women greeted them and, nostrils flaring, ushered both of them into separate bathrooms to wash. Ash did as he was told, he didn’t want to get into any more trouble than he was already in. Having one fund family pissed off was bad enough.

Stepping out of the bathroom, he found an annoyed looking Bri, her skin reddened from scrubbing. She looked, Ash imagined, like a wet dog who had just been washed for rolling in the dirt. Pitiful and laughable.

“Didn’t wash up to their standards?” Ash murmured.

Bri growled at him.

“The council has seen fit to recess so that the pair of you could wash, please, come with us,” the oldest of the women said, motioning towards the dining hall of the estate.

Ash and Bri were led away from the bathrooms and into the dining hall. Where the council sat on one side of the table. Shin, Layaent and the family steward sat on the other, near to the garden. The Meita family’s representatives sat close to the door. Neither stewards acknowledged the entrance of Bri and Ash, but Shin and Layaent did glance over, a quick look to find out who smelt so strongly of soap.

“Ashientshisu Toleran and companion, please sit between the two factions.” a seventh generation said, motioning to the only other seats available at the table.

Ash led the way and motioned for Bri to sit in the one closes to the Meitas. He sat in the other and looked over the council. All seventh generation, all looked like commoners who were past middle age, at the end of their prime or just a little beyond that. Gray speckled their hair, their faces had the creases of worry and lesser lines of laughter.

“Is it true that you have met with Shin, as part of Uwahn’s guard?”

“I was Uwahn’s only guard, yes,” Ash said.

“So the two of you are now acquainted?”

“Yes.”

“And did,” the Meita member of the council asked coldly, “they ask you about the funding of the family?”

“I. Beg your pardon?”

“Did Layaent and Shin Ishteshtin ask you about the funding of the Meita family and where it came from?”

“No, Layaent and Shin Ishteshtin asked me about the contract offered to Shin and whether or not I had any knowledge of the contents of the contract. Layaent and I are companions, thus he had a right to ask because it was his sibling involved. I told them that no, I was not aware of the contract. They then asked me what the Meita family could possibly buy with the money in the contract if Shin’s children on Uwahn were not to be altered.”

“I beg your pardon?” The Ishteshtin representative snapped.

“Have the contents of the contract not been expressed?” Ash asked, looking down at Layaent.

“No, this was purely about-” Layaent started.

“Explain yourself, Layaent, Shin claims he was looking into these numbers as preparation for accepting a breeding contract, not upon refusal of a breeding contract.”

“What was it?” Bri muttered, drawing the eyes of everyone at the table, “two children on Uwahn neither was to be altered and both made infertile at the time of birth. Retirement when the youngest hit second growth at which time the father, Shin, would retire to the wilds with his children with a small purse.”

“Thusly freeing Uwahn for more breeding,” Meita muttered, glaring at the steward pf his family.

One of the other representatives sighed and sat back in his chair, “an insult and, yes, I can see a young man delving into the family that offered such an disgrace to them. Why, I was offered a disgraceful contract once and went looking for information to hurt the family. I, however, found none.”

“He is a runt,” the steward protested, “we were simply offering him the same kind of contract that any family offers a runt-”

“Whether or not he is a runt, remains to be seen,” Meita said in a voice that went higher as the man talked.

“The contracts offered to runts,” Ishteshtin said, “do not make the product infertile, it agrees that if the product of this coupling is found to be as runt like as its father or mother, then the product is returned to the original family with the defective genetic material, thusly freeing up the parent that was not defective to breed more.”

“We were going to place a genetic sequence,” the man sitting beside the steward said, “into the children and see the outcome of it through the lines.”

“You mean to tell me,” Ash adjusted in his seat, “that you are looking to make a new tweaker family?”

“I said nothing of the sort.”

“You just said you were going to tweak their genetic code, sit back and film the explosion that happened afterwards. You were going to make another tweaker family. Out of a tenth generation genetic, middle of the pack young man who has, as of yet, not been proven to be a runt. Then, afterwards, you were going to remove him from the breeding pool entirely.

“If you want to tweak someone,” Ash snapped, indignation rising, “you have hundreds of people to tweak, do not pull an innocent into your games or make claims of such!”

“Calm,” Ishteshtin held up his hands and waited for everyone to settled down, “A breeding contract is: a contract that is legally binding and requires the genetic material of two partners to join. This contract, given advances in science and future advances, may include and are not limited to: two males, two females, a male and a female, two males and a female, two females and a male. Such contracts are to be written out, clearly indicating what each party takes from the joining of the bodies listed in the contract. Biological standards are automatically included in every contract and need not be listed, though it is highly recommended that they are. The prodigy of such contracts must produce viable offspring, should one or the other party fail to produce a child that is viable, a child that can pass on their genetic materials to the next generation, then the contract signed before the joining is null and void and only the emotions involved between the partners will decide what happens to the breeding pair.”

The council shifted their attention from Ishteshtin and to the Meita steward. The man was going bright red, silent rage oozing off of him.

“Meita, you are found breaking the laws, as set down by our forefathers. Please, step off of the council until such a time as an investigation into the matter is finished.”

“As obligated, I step down, but I protest,” Meita muttered, standing from his seat, “we are, each of us, neutral.”

“The council hears your objection and notes it. Pending an investigation into your own finances, you may be welcomed back to the council,” Ishteshtin murmured before turning to the Meita steward, “if a contract is not being offered for breeding purposes, then I rule that it must be offered for the money garnered, do the others agree?”

“Aye.”

“Aye.”

“Aye.”

“Aye.”

“Good, we are in agreement,” Ishteshtin stood and sighed, “I hereby order a full audit of the Meita family funds, of everyone’s income and the income of the tweaker family that calls themselves Hawk. All financial records of Gomesh Genetics are to be presented immediately, along with any genetic files we demand. We, the council, have spoken.”

“The genetic files? What right have you to look into our genetic files?” the Meita stewards stood, angry and annoyed.

Ishteshtin’s eyebrows rose, “if you refuse to even give a child of the Ishteshtin the biological standards that everyone must be given, then how little are you altering your own children?”

“We are not tweakers. We do not adjust this or that-”

“The difference between a tweaker and a genetic are the options available to them,” Meita snapped, “and the money they pay.”

“Council to reconvene tonight to appoint an auditor and investigator,” Ishteshtin said as the rest of the council stood, “dismissed.”

All present were quiet as the council left. Once the door closed, Bri turned to Ash.

“Why was he doing all the talking?” she asked him.

“Because,” Ash said, standing as the Meitas approached him, “it is his family’s home, thus he is the speaker for the council. Yes, steward?”

“You disgrace your family, your fund providers and you have breeched contract?”

“How, exactly,” Layaent growled, stepping between Ash and the steward, “has he breeched his contract. And keep in mind, you are on my,” stressing the fact that it was his territory, Layaent leaned forward and dared the steward to touch him, “land and that accidents happen all the time. On my. Land.”

The steward babbled for a moment before he stepped away from Layaent and pretended the other man didn’t exist. He stuck his nose in the air and led his family out of the dining hall. Layaent stared after them and scratched his head.

“Those Meitas are hard to predict,” Layaent muttered, “I was sure he was going to clock me and I’d get a good tussle out of him. Oh well, just have to tussle with Ash instead.”

Ash groaned.


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