Free Oversight by Thomas Claburn

provide relief.
    “Doctors from the United States and Japan have been working around the clock to give the blind sight, using eyeballs grown in the lab. The result is miraculous.”
    A boy smiling, touching his face, seeing again. His doctor addresses the camera. The subtitle says, “Doctor Eva Seal, Duke University Pediatric Center.”
    Dr. Seal speaks quickly. “It’s exciting to be able to deliver cutting-edge healthcare to such an underserved population. Eye surgery on this scale was unthinkable a few years ago. But using a Cherry Picker, it’s like changing a light bulb.”
    A wary patient is being fitted with a massive cube-shaped helmet. The voiceover resumes. “The Cherry Picker is a remarkable telesurgery module developed by Automated Science, under license from the United Farm Workers Union. As its name suggests, the machine is derived from fruit-processing technology. Operated either by local or remote technicians, the device can perform eye transplantation in ten minutes. The hardest part for the patients is the twelve-hour wait before sight begins to return.”
    The segment ends and the lights brighten. Among the credits: “Produced by Content Corp with a grant from Automated Science.” A screen menu appears, offering a chance to buy stock in Automated Science.
    “Buy a thousand shares of Automated Science stock now, and receive the option to purchase ten shares at today’s price in six months,” Marilyn effuses. “What’s more, if you act today, we’ll add you to our insider mailing list. Be the first to know about important company information. But act quickly—this offer is too good to last.”
    Too tired to be skeptical, Sam is tempted. “Marilyn, read me the titles of a few recent press releases,” he says half-heartedly.
    “’Automated Science Names Werner Shetland Chief Fabrications Officer.’ ‘New England Journal of Medicine Shows 63 Percent Increase in Management Retention Among Corporate Officers Treated with Jenuflect.’ ‘Automated Science Announces Licensing Deal with Biopt Corporation.’ ‘Automated Science Donates $100 Million to the American Bar Association for Favorable Consideration—’”
    Sam sits up. “Marilyn, stop. What was the third one?”
    “’Automated Science Announces Licensing Deal with Biopt Corporation.’”
    That’s the company Ernesto mentioned. “Tell me about Biopt.”
    “Biopt Corporation is a leading biotech company that uses genetics and technology to bring sight to the blind and to improve the quality of human life. Biopt is committed to upholding the United Nations Convention on Genetic Engineering and to seeking returns for its investors through the advancement of science. Biopt is traded on the Open Stock Exchange under the symbol OPT.
    “Twelve years of federally approved medical products have resulted from Biopt’s commitment to excellence. Its products include Paralaxe, a chemical nerve bond; iYes, laboratory-grown human eyeballs; Colorphage, a popular eye-coloring dye; and X-Lenses, contacts that map ultraviolet and infrared light to the visible spectrum.”
    Sam stands and heads to his desktop interface. He sends a blank message to [email protected]. Moments later, an error message arrives: “Undeliverable mail. Address unknown.” He tries [email protected]. Another error. The third time, [email protected], there’s no response. A valid address.
    “Gotcha.” Sam’s grin disappears when he hears a noise outside. “Marilyn, display the exterior security camera video feed.”
    “Exterior cameras are offline for maintenance.”
    “On whose command? I didn’t—”
    Sam kneels and pulls a baseball bat from beneath the sofa. He sneaks back to his bedroom and starts up the ladder to the fire exit in the ceiling. The faint clank of metal on metal sounds from outside.
    Opening the hatch, he slips into the thicket of wires and satellite dishes on the roof. The air is cool. The sun rests on the horizon.
    Below, a furtive figure