Free Nation of Enemies by H.A. Raynes

“It’s all there. I have my father’s genes. Just try and kill me before the age of ninety.”
    The doctor traces a finger over the screen of his tablet, scrutinizing the data. “Apparently you exercise daily. Maintain a low-­fat diet. Indulge in a glass of wine on occasion. And have no physical complaints.” He looks up with one eyebrow raised. “Yes, clearly this is evidence of a superior being. Now, hold out a finger please and we’ll talk in the nonfiction realm.” He retrieves a fist-­sized electronic device and guides Richard’s finger into it. A needle pokes him, claiming a drop of blood. The doctor slips the device off and observes the screen.
    â€œYour O2 level is low. Total cholesterol is 206. That’s on the high side. Your liver enzymes are also elevated. You should cut back on red meat, dairy, and on that, quote, occasional glass of wine.” He shakes his head. “You haven’t been taking your medications.”
    â€œI know I don’t seem the type, but I believe in a more holistic approach.”
    â€œAt your age, your genes need to be supported by meds and a healthy lifestyle.”
    â€œI’ve been on the road with the campaign the past ­couple months. I hardly know what city I’m in each morning, let alone remember to take my meds.”
    â€œSenator, you’re a smart man and that’s a sorry excuse. If you don’t take your medication you’ll have a very short-­lived term as vice president.”
    â€œUnderstood.” Richard hates revealing his daily habits, resents having his life boiled down to statistics. It’s amazing what a drop of blood can betray. He recognizes the irony of his role in the MedID. But despite his own genetic weaknesses, his job is to strengthen the U.S. He didn’t anticipate the country spiraling as it has, but eventually disease and deformities will be a thing of the past. Future generations will be thankful. And these idiots claiming to fight this so-­called Armageddon will be delivered unto their own destiny. A flash of Taylor comes to him, knowing that she’s defected to their side. Heat climbs from his neck to his face. He stands from the bed and retrieves his undershirt from a nearby chair.
    â€œI haven’t done your physical exam yet,” Dr. Wendall says.
    â€œIt’s all there.” He gestures to the tablet. “It’s for them, not for me.”
    The doctor rises to his feet, eye-­to-­eye with him. “All due respect, you’re not twenty-­five anymore. Why don’t you let me do a proper workup?”
    â€œYou know why.”
    â€œThis is about your life. No one has to know.”
    â€œOh what a tangled web I’ve woven.” He slips on his pants. “Our system has worked for the past ten years. Let’s not mess with it.”
    â€œAs you wish. But at least take your pills.” Dr. Wendall opens a cabinet, pulls out his MRS. He scans the false information from the app. “Hold out your forearm, please.”
    The MRS flashes a red light over the MedID site. In less than a second Richard’s medical record is updated. “You’re good to go for another year.”
    â€œThanks, Sam.” He shakes the doctor’s hand. “Things go as planned, you’ll be the physician to the vice president when I see you next.”
    Dr. Wendall sets his scanner down, the expression on his face suddenly serious. “I saw Taylor on the news. I’m sorry.”
    Richard frowns. “She’s marching to her own beat.”
    â€œIt’s a dangerous beat.”
    â€œLike all kids, she does things for shock value. But I’ll admit, she got me this time.”
    â€œI hope for your sake it’s temporary.” Dr. Wendall opens the door. “Best of luck with the race. And be safe.”
    â€œThanks, Sam. Hey, don’t forget to vote.”
    When the doctor leaves, Richard finishes