Ziad

Prologue - The Unfeeling 

October, 2045 AD 

Matto Grosso, Brazil 

Polished shoes squelched in the mud. 

"Today, I’m going to show you something the world has never seen," the voice was calm and precise. 

The delegation fielded intermittent raised eyebrows as they entered the belly of an unmarked facility. They were led into an enclosure with a lone cow. It looked out of place amidst the hustle and bustle of neighboring pens. Watery brown eyes looked up with tired disgust. 

“Observe.” 

The tour guide motioned to a nearby worker, who retrieved a glowing brand, and without hesitation, pressed it against the animal’s flank. The cow’s eyes bulged in pain, its scream piercing through the steel pens. It staggered, trembling, and collapsed to one knee. 

The audience winced. 

“What’s the purpose of this?!” 

“Perspective,” the tour guide replied, perfectly calm. 

“Perspective on what?!” 

A faint smile flickered on the tour guide’s lips as he silently led the delegation to the next-door pen. Another lone cow, this one easily double the size, with bulging muscles competing to escape taut skin. The animal did not look up from its meal. 

Again, the signal came. The worker appeared with another glowing iron and plunged it deep into the cow's flank. A strong acrid smell filled the air. 

But there was no scream. No flinch. Not even a blink. The cow just continued its studious attack on the mountain of pellets in front of it, chewing with urgency. 

Gasps and whispers erupted in the delegation. “What… how?!?” 

“Remarkable, isn’t it?” The tour guide's eyes gleamed, pride swelling in his voice. “Suffering-free animals. Genetically engineered to feel absolutely no pain. Stress is eliminated. They grow twice as large, twice as fast. Delighted to exist. Just eat, eat, eat - day and night. Food security and animal welfare solved in one fell swoop.” 

“When you say they feel no pain…” 

“None whatsoever,” the tour guide interrupted, smiling broadly. “And you’re the lucky bucks who get to bring this remarkable innovation to market.” 

There was a pause as the whispers intensified among the delegation. 

“This will be deemed unethical.” 

The tour guide continued unfazed. “Come now, don’t patronize me. When has ethics ever gotten in the way of Zenith Veritas? And you are incorrect; it would be unethical not to do this. With 11 billion humans on the planet, we have a huge global food shortage on our hands, and animals today are being caused immense suffering that is entirely avoidable. The world needs this.” 

The delegation rustled and remained unconvinced. “Everyone on the hill agrees we have food security issues, but not everyone agrees that animals are the answer. The way to avoid famines is to stop throwing away calories by feeding them to animals. Government is under intense pressure to reduce deforestation, limit soy production, even with our reach…” 

The tour guide interrupted. “Come now, nothing worth doing is ever easy. The undeniable truth is this: humans want meat. Real meat. I’m sure you’ll find your commissions to be commensurate with the challenge ahead.” 

The tour guide gently guided them back toward the entrance. “You know the drill. Expedited reg approval, continued subsidies, positive media engagement, stifling competition — the usual. We also have a generous seven-figure sign-on bonus for each of you.” 

There was more murmuring among the retinue. Their leader, a woman in an immaculately pressed red suit, had been watching in silence as the tour unfolded. She walked forward, and as she moved, the murmurs stopped. She took the tour guide's hand. 

“Edward, thank you for the informative tour. We will be in touch.”