• Vol. 06
  • Chapter 10
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Porkupine

Pigs are pristine. There was never a need for cleansing, scrubbing and mucking out. Pigs are genetically programmed for cleanliness. No animal would choose to live in their own excrements. No creature would choose to be caged and fed through a tube. Harnessed in rows. Poo floating away in a gutter somewhere under its own belly. Enslaved by humanity.

No one eats meat now. The pastures turned to desert.

Pigs are invaluable. No longer pets serving rich egos, posing on satin cushions, smiling for the lens. Dining on truffles. The world has moved far away from the ethical garbage farming: pigs forced to eat land fill.

Now we are adverts for pro-life and we earn our keep.

Exercising my muscles in the floatation tank, surrounded by nanobots, I swim. Of course, a part of me pines for primal freedom. Jealous of my ancestors. Depicted in cave paintings, fleeing or grazing.

In the tank-water, my adrenaline is modified. Too much cortisol is bad for my cellular structure. Some days, like today, the laboratory technician projects a warm sunny scene onto the screen. I reminisce. I access memories of hay and petrichor. Feel good substances feed my brain. Endorphins. My enhanced memory is infinite.

"Pigs shine with intelligence." Bill board persuasion to save humanity from suffering.

Pigs brains harvested for opiate receptors. Porcine nervous and endocrine systems grafted into robotic bodies. Oxytocin secretions drained and replenished.

My environment has carefully controlled lighting, for perfect skin pigmentation. My hormones are extracted through a fine syringe, blood analysis drawn.

As a sow, raising young artificially is my life. My life to save life. The male boars give organs: kidneys, livers, hearts. The young female gilts are kept or sacrificed for their collagen, oestrogen and cell longevity.

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Porkupine

I paddle. The water is refreshing. The tanks are lined in rows. Engineered to perfection. We're happy.

I wait for DNA compatibility. Tanked like a lobster, possible customers look me over. I long for my next perfect match.

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