The Watch in the Sand: Part 7

November 24, 2026

The FDA officially declares IANs safe enough for over-the-counter use.

Competing protests shut down Boston. The news reports from inside the city explain some protesters are demanding cheaper access to Nanocules for the lower classes, while others demand more regulation and research into this new and potentially dangerous technology.

November 25, 2026

Over the counter ‘IANdigestion’ pills are made available for sale, marketed to prevent indigestion, heart burn, gas, and constipation for a full day if taken in the morning. These pills are 99.53% effective. One package of thirty pills costs five dollars. Side effects are minor, including mild stomach-aches, and occur in less than .01% of the population.

November 27, 2026

The Boston Protests that have closed down the city for two full days turn into riots that are quickly suppressed by the National Guard. Cited justifications from interviewed rioters include likening IANs to chemical warfare, racist eugenics, and further attempts to increase the size and scope of corporate surveillance and control over the public.

Country-wide public opinion polls show an even split between those in favor and those opposed to the use of IANs.

4:33 pm, February 10, 2027

“Richard Keeves: twenty three years old, born in east Oakwood, college in Atlanta, just graduated — congratulations, by the way — moved back to North Carolina six months ago, and already making a bit of a name for himself in the local Anti-IAN group. Impressive resume.”

Richard looked up from the bare metal table, and glared at the officer across the room. The officer was leaning against the double-sided glass, and stroking the front of a police tablet, scrolling through pages of Richard’s file.

“Let’s see… arrested twice for violent protesting, three times for protesting without a permit… you have trouble parking, don’t you…? Sorry, what was that?” The officer walked over and leaned on the table, staring Richard directly in the eye. Richard held his head up.

“I said what’s the point of protesting when it’s permitted? If you only protest when it’s convenient for the people you oppose, nothing will ever change.”

The officer pursed his lips, and gave a half nod.

“Huh,” he looked at the tablet. “You may have something there, Ricky. I’m afraid that doesn’t count for beans to me, though. You wanna hold a protest, you gotta get a permit, just like everyone else.”

Richard remained silent. The officer dragged his thumb down the side of the screen for a few seconds, and then stood up straight again, arms crossed.

“You know anything about a riot downtown a couple of hours ago, Ricky?” the officer sat down in the chair across the table. Richard’s leg began to bounce.

“There was a riot?” Richard carefully said. The officer reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a black electric cigarette. He inhaled forcefully on the end, causing the other end to glow a deep blue. A small wisp of flavored smoke curled from his mouth and vanished almost before it hit the air.

“Seems a bunch of kids started throwing vegetables at the UNC Medical Center, and when security stepped up to disperse them, the twerps started throwing bricks.”

“Sounds like the guards should have waited for the police.”

“And you don’t know anything about that? Seems they were waving Anti-IAN signs.”

“Not a thing.”

“Your Board knows more than you, then,” the officer flipped the tablet around. “‘Just heard the rent-a-cop has a concussion — should have waited for the police.’ That sounds familiar. ‘Already heard about the Riot on five different news Boards. Sounds like a solid day’s work.’ Couple links… Let’s see… ‘Solidarity! We need more riots like this to finally be free. Keep up the heat.’ For not knowing anything, you sure do guess well, don’t you?”

“You can’t prove I wrote that,” Richard began. He could feel his face getting red. His shoe began to squeak as his leg bounced. The officer snorted, causing his e-cigarette to flicker blue.

“Now I know you did, Ricky. You learn a few things, being a policeman. Things like if you hadn’t written these posts, you would have said ‘I didn’t write those posts.’ But since you did, you say I can’t prove it. If you know I’m right, you don’t attack my facts, you attack my sources. But I don’t have to prove it, do I? It’s your Board, Ricky! Your hobbled old grandma could have written each and every post, and it wouldn’t stand up to a jury. You think anyone will believe you didn’t write these posts when it’s your name at the top? Hell, if I had to prove it, I could file for the record; find out where the device was when it posted these things. My guess is it’s in your parent’s basement.”

“Am I under arrest?”

“Of course not, Ricky. We’re just having a nice little chat, because you’re a good citizen and want to help the local police with their inquiries.”

“I don’t know anything.”

“I’m starting to believe that,” the officer inhaled deeply on his e-cigarette “Seems a girl we picked up off the ground at that riot thought you were there. She kept wanting us to go back and check to see that you were okay.”

“There’s a lot of people named Richard.”

“Again, you’re attacking credibility, not facts. It’s hard to lie face to face, isn’t it?” The officer smiled, and puffed his e-cigarette blue. “You and your pals sure got a thing about IANs, don’t you? I don’t think I’ve had a week go by lately without some protest outside a hospital, clinic or town-hall. Look Richard, I’m sure you’re not a bad kid, but the last three demonstrations by the Anti-IAN types caused quite a bit of damaged property — hospital property. People are getting angry about this. A smart kid like you? Well, you’ve seen how many Negs these events are getting. Now, I’m not going to tell you to stop fighting for what you believe in, but there’s a right way and a wrong way to do it. The wrong way gets people hurt, you know what I’m saying?”

Richard sat back and sneered, remaining silent. This seemed to amuse the officer. “You’re cute, kid. Let me guess — you think this is your big chance, right? Like now that you’re in a police station with a metal table and an officer, you’re big stuff. Never-mind cooling your heels in lock-up, this time you got brought in for questioning! Makes you feel like the next Al Capone. I’m telling you, I could be out on the street right now, chasing down real criminals. Murderers, thieves; and instead, because the mayor has a bee up his butt about these protests, I’m here wasting time with you. As far as I’m concerned, you’re just a punk kid, who needs to get his head out of his ass and help us stop this getting worse than it already is.

“You could arrest Nanocule Inc.,” Richard spat. “What they’re doing ought to be illegal.”

“What charge, Capone? There aren’t any laws on the books that they’re breaking. You change that, and I’ll arrest them.”

“They control our health!” Richard leaned forward, gripping the table. “They’re not transparent with our data. If you ever take IANs, every inch of your body is recorded and held in their server, and you can’t access it without their permission.”

“This is sounding familiar,” The officer leaned back, inhaling deeply. “You think breaking windows is going to help?”

“But it’s getting worse!” Richard tried to calm down, to breathe slowly. “Our health can’t be proprietary!”

“Fine, kid.” The officer pushed the e-cigarette into his mouth. He stood up, pulled his chair around to the side where Richard was sitting, and sat down again, arms crossed on the table. “Convince me.”

It was so transparent. Good cop time. He was trying to be Richard’s friend. The act was dripping off of him. Richard looked away, keeping his mouth shut. A whiff of strawberries and bourbon drifted past his nose as the officer exhaled from his e-cigarette.

“Let me guess,” the officer finally said. “This is a miracle drug that can turn into any other drug. And right now, IANs can give you CAT scans or MRIs, and if they have 24/7 access through the Line, give it half a year, and they can track what you’re thinking. And boom. A company that knows what you’re thinking and feeling at any moment, that can give you drugs from long distance. Keeping this super-drug proprietary is just so Big Brother can keep control of the masses.” Richard tried not to react, but the officer nodded. “That’s what I thought. Gotta tell you kid, you’re not impressing me at all…”

“But this is pure Orwell!” Richard blurted out. “The Banks are collecting everything now! Not just your medical information, but your behaviors! What you eat and drink! Who you’re with! If we don’t open the walled garden of closed code then they’ll be able to read your mind and do whatever they want with your body!”

“No, no, that was all wrong,” The officer grinned. “Nice to recognize Orwell, you were listening to me, but you’re not adapting — you’re just repeating. And ‘walled garden of closed code?’ That’s awful. Wordy metaphors are shit unless you’re writing bad poetry.”

Richard stared at the officer. He felt the interrogation had gone wrong somewhere, and he wasn’t sure where. The officer waved him on with a circular motion of his wrist. Richard found himself trying again.

“IANs are taking over healthcare all over the world, and if the monopoly isn’t busted, family doctors, nurses, pharmacists, the whole medical industry will collapse. And how many jobs is that? How many billions of dollars into one global company’s hands? How big of a crash in the stock market? And change doesn’t happen until the status quo is unacceptable. There will be no change unless we make it impossible for things to continue the way they have. I know you think we’re useless paranoid cracks, talking about government conspiracies, but this is real! It’s happening! And you don’t even see it!” Richard hit the table with his fist. “IANs fill our bodies, and they’re getting smarter. They’re practically running our bodies as it is! They —”

“Back it up, kid.” The officer shook his head. “You started fine but now we’re back in Gonzo-land.”

“What the fuck is going on here?” Richard demanded. He had never been interrogated before, but he was sure this was not how it was supposed to go. The officer exhaled more flavored vapor.

“You tell me, Capone, you’re the one driving this conversation.”

Richard lapsed back into silence, his mouth clamped firmly shut. The officer chuckled.

“Aw, now we’re pouting? Fine. Let me tell you what just happened here. We were talking for a bit, and you started preaching at me. Then I asked you to convince me, and you kept right on preaching. You’ve berated and scorned and vilified Nanocule Inc., which is great when you need to make enemies, but you’re shit at making friends. You can’t just yell and throw rocks like an ape, you have to convince people.” The officer leaned in to Richard. “Come on, now. Take a deep breath. What’s this really about?”

And Richard thought about what brought him to the movement. He thought about IANs in the blood, and massive servers across the country. He looked the officer in the eye.

“This is a country of liberty, and the only true liberation is through information.” The Officer slowly nodded.

“Good. Keep going.”

“Our history is littered with lost treasure. Old wives tales that, in our hubris, we claim are obsolete. You know the drug in Chicken Soup that makes you feel better? We could put it in pill form, call it a cure for the common cold. But you have to remember that heat and steam help clear your sinuses. And blankets — keeping the body warm helps too. What about the emotional healing from having someone you love take care of you? Nature is smarter than us, and the old wives weren’t backwards morons. They knew what worked, they stuck with the soup. There’s so much out there that we try to improve, without ever stopping to think about what we’re losing. And with something like IANs — we’re going to be losing a lot.”

The policeman nodded slowly. He carefully took his e-cigarette out of his mouth.

“I don’t think Mrs. Smith cares about that when her husband gets Cancer.”

“Of course she doesn’t. She shouldn’t. That’s what we’re here for. We’re here to make sure people don’t get hurt by hope. Remember Laetrile? It was a cure for cancer they found back in the nineteen sixties or seventies. Didn’t work, of course, but when you’re dying of cancer, who are you going to believe? The companies who make millions off of sick people? Or the man in an alley asking for two hundred dollars for a chance at life? I don’t want IANs to be outlawed completely, none of us do. We just don’t know enough about them, and that’s currently by design. If anyone doesn’t have complete access to all of Nanocule’s IAN code, they don’t have access to their own bodies. If everything about IANs was open to the whole world, if the codes and formulas were public domain, open to everyone, we could all make our choices with open eyes.”

“And a terrorist could whip together something that could kill us all.” the officer countered. Richard continued, shaking his head emphatically.

“No, because that’s one terrorist looking for a way to twist the code that thousands of people are constantly improving. If everyone can see the code, then everyone can see the flaws, and anyone can fix them.” Richard scrubbed his hands through his hair. “I’m tired of being told that everyone is out to get me. I’m tired of people saying we’re doomed if important secrets aren’t locked away and kept safe. There are more of us who want the world to be healthy than there are people who want it destroyed. The good people in the world outnumber the bad ones — the good ones just need the tools to fight back! Imagine what we could do if everyone had that control, and we all worked together.”

The Officer took a slow drag on his e-cigarette, and nodded once.

“I have to say, I’m impressed,” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a card, tapping it on the metal table. “I’m also pretty damn disappointed. Not because you don’t have passion, but because you’re being stupid with it. Look, I know you think that just getting a gang together and breaking windows will make everything better, but people don’t want to agree with rioters. They’ll agree with fine upstanding citizens who speak common sense, even if they speak it from a soapbox.” He handed the card to Richard who took it slowly.

“There’s a bill about IAN regulation up for debate in the state legislature next week. The press hasn’t been paying much attention, because it’s not supposed to pass. Public speaking is allowed, and you just might be able to change the right minds to get this better world you’re after started.”

Richard looked at the card. A date, address, and time were written on it in pen, beneath a human hand holding a tree in its palm - the logo of something called the Naturalist Movement. Richard shook his head in disbelief.

“This wasn’t about the riot, was it?”

“By the way, be careful what you post, okay Rich?” The officer patted him on the back as he walked to the door. “It tends to make nosy bastards like me and my friends pay attention, and start looking for potential. There’s a meeting this Wednesday. We’re on the same side, and we can use passion. We can use smarts. Let your friends know, okay?”