Chapter 1

"The world’s richest 1% are on course to control as much as two-thirds of the world’s wealth by 2030, according to a shocking analysis that has lead to a cross-party call for action."

“Well, welcome to the family. Yes, sign there… and there… What was I saying? Oh yes; we’re glad to have you on board; I think you’ll find that we’re one of the best employers around. As long as you work hard, and put your work ahead of yourself, you’re going to do great here. Yes, and a signature there. This isn’t a place for lazy people; team players only.”

Trevor, usually Tre, nodded, half-listening as he added his signature, agreeing that the cost of his uniforms would be deducted from his bi-weekly paycheck, which would start, of course, after his mandatory unpaid training period. All fairly standard forms, but he was excited nonetheless. A chance to work for someone as inspiring, as well known, as iconic as Rebecca Cohen herself? Even if he was so far down the ladder that he couldn’t even see the first rung, being an employee of the Cohen Corporation was an amazing chance. His girlfriend basically idolized Rebecca; read every interview, watched every video. In his wildest dreams, those green eyes would flash; she’d notice him among the crowd, she’d single him out…she’d pause from her meal long enough to tell him she saw his hustle, and needed someone like him at her side…

The supervisor’s nasally voice broke him out of his reverie. “Now, I know your generation is all entitled and so ‘woe is me,’ but I think you’re a good kid. Remember, as long as you put the job first, you can go far here. People talk all this nonsense about how the rich are so different than us, how they think they’re so much better than us and” he looked around, conspiratorially, then back at Trevor,” the thing is, it’s true. None of us would have jobs, would be able to feed our families, without Ms. Cohen. The CEO, the owner- they’re the ones doing the real hard work, creating jobs, innovating. But, anyways, enough talk-let’s show you to where you’ll be working.”

Trevor followed the middle-age man out of the HR office, strolling through the packed cubicles where recruiters pursued their frantic hiring. He didn’t have the head or the education for office work. He didn’t mind; he liked working with his hands. He liked the idea of actually producing something. When he’d seen the ad for a job at the Cohen Corporation, working in the receiving warehouse, he had been overjoyed- a chance to work directly for the largest, most successful company on the west coast, and not just at one of the endless factories or data farms scattered throughout the world, but at the actual, no-bs home campus, where the daughter of the owner not only worked but lived.

The elevator took them down after an interminably long trip to the bottom floor, where the employee tram ran, underneath the campus. As a class “D” employee, Tre wasn’t allowed access to the above ground pathways; that was the prerogative of executives.

Before being purchased by the Cohen Corporation, the piece of land that the combination headquarters and home sat had once housed something called a college. His grandparents had attended one of those, and he had fond memories of hearing them tell stories about how, once, education past the point of eighth grade had been something people from all over the country could theoretically get, rather than just those who showed aptitude in their early tests. He had looked in fascinated wonder at the printed word his grandparents had proudly clung to, but had discarded any hope of figuring it out himself. Ever since the English Reform Act of 2039 and the acceptance of memeography as the standard method of communication, reading and writing hadn’t been particularly necessary for people in most jobs- most things were communicated in video anyways, and privatized schools made so much more sense for the taxpayer than the old, unwieldy public system

As Tre exited the tram, the first thing that reached him was the smell; iron and animal smells. He followed the supervisor down the platform, staying on the same floor through a maze of dimly lit hallways. “Energy savings of course; it’s not too hard to see down here, and it’s a lot less electricity being wasted. Besides, the more high-ranked team members never have to use these floors.”

He emerged, blinking, into a brightly light, and startlingly loud warehouse. It was… an almost indescribable slaughterhouse. Everywhere in the enormous room, grim faced men were going about the work of culling animals, preparing them for cooking and consumption. Fat was rendered down, animal blood running down drains to be collected. Heaps of juicy, dark red meat were being butchered into steaks and chops.

Most were animals Trevor recognized- cows, sheep, pigs, chickens, horses. Others he had seen in movies- antelope, llamas, ostrich. He was pretty sure that there were at least two elephants. Tre had never eaten non-soylent meat before.


“Well, welcome to your new home. Ms. Cohen needs about twenty tons of meat daily- of course, there are days when she’ll go through a lot more than that! Alright, so your shift begins on the hour, but you can go ahead and get started early. John over there is going to be training you on deboning. Get to it! Keeping Ms. Cohen properly fed is one of the most important jobs there can be- you’re an essential worker.”