Scale: Chapter 1

::The Unjust Persecution of Tom Brodie::

Tom Brodie started breathing heavily as he looked at the scale under his waxy, pudgy feet. Could it be? 302 lbs? Could that be right? He fainted and the Health Police were at his door 5 minutes later hauling him out on a gurney into their ambulance.
In a world where image is everything, the world's obesity problem was climbing to staggering numbers especially in the United States. 50 years ago, the government was having talks with representatives around the world and many leaders were also concerned. The concern laid in scientists predictions that within 200 years, the world's food supply would run out. Things had to be done.
There were experimentations of genetically grown foods, chemically enhanced. But even those findings would not sustain the human race especially at the rate the population was exponentially growing. And many activists were concerned of the long term health ramifications of human consumption of all those chemicals.
Then Mr. Howard Duvalle from Perth came up with a radical plan. "The problem is not the food sources gentlemen. The problem is the consumers that are eating this food at an enormous rate and the more pressing culprit is the obese human. Obese humans eat an average 5000 calories a day whereas a normal person only consumes 2500 calories a day. What we need to get rid of are people who are morbidly obese."
"Well how do you plan we do that? Slaughter them so we can eat them ourselves?" The representative from Lithuania said half-heartedly but quickly frowned when he saw Howard's stone face. "My god, man, you're not serious. That's inhumane!"
Howard laughed. "No no no, I for sure would not want to eat the ass of a fat man who probably has more diseases than a pigeon. I just don't think this is a laughing matter. Our race is in trouble and we will not be taken out because there are humans who can't control their stomachs. There are parts of this world that are not even occupied. The glaciers of Antarctica, the rain forests of South America. I suggest, gentlemen, that we take these fat people and make them drastically lose weight on these deserted places and when they are of acceptable size, they can be integrated back into humanity. This is what our world is heading towards. Drastic measures. I suggest we focus this plan on America where the obesity problem has gotten out of hand. Just as a test run."
The leaders were in an uproar.
"You're a crazy man, Duvalle! Incompetent!"
"That's involuntary slavery, you fool! The public won't stand for this!"
"Would you put your own mother on an iceberg in Antarctica, ignoramus! I'm disgusted!"
"There must be a better way..."
People were shouting and no one could understand anyone especially with all the different languages being spoken. The presiding officer banged his gavel.
The conference mellowed into a light stir and then was quiet. It felt sinister as if they were in the middle of a sci-fi movie. Was this really an option? What about the mental state of these obese people? What about civil rights? How would they implement this? Had the human race really been reduced to this morbid solution?
Fast forward 50 years....
When Tom Brodie awoke, he found himself in a hospital bed. The stale smell of antiseptic stung his nose and he realized that he was plugged up to an IV drip and the tubes going in and out of his body were numerous. The tears were rolling down his cheeks. "I'm only 25. 25, this can't be happening. I can change. I already started this new diet...." His words trailed off when there was a knock at his door.
Three men dressed in white smocks and a woman in a nurse's uniform walked in and stood at his bedside.
The woman stepped closer and checked his vitals. "Mr. Tom, I'm sorry but your weight has gone over the acceptable limit of national standards and you will have to be reprimanded. I'm sure you've read about our process, yes?" It seemed as if she were reciting a speech she'd done many times. Her toothy grin was mordant and sinister and gave Tom an uneasy feeling.
Tom wanted his mother. "Where's my mother?"
The nurse smiled. "Have you been monitoring your weight on a daily basis, Mr. Brodie? Well, the Health Police sure have and they have a bone to pick with you." She gave a nonchalant laugh. Tom felt as if he were back in primary school being condescended by his kindergarten teacher. The nurse continued, "I'm sure the government has sent you the brochures. The process is nothing special. In a way, you can think of it as a vacation. You get to go and relax, not have to worry about work or school. We just need your signature....," she fluttered a stack of papers in front of his blurry eyes. The tears were making his eyes swollen. "....here. Pen?" She clicked the pen and the tip gave an evil sparkle. He looked up. The hanging light above him swung slowly and gave a slight squeak.
Tom shook his head. "But I thought they give you a month's notice! A month's notice before you come! My friend said she knew a woman who was able to stay home for a two month's grace period and she ended up losing 50 pounds!! She didn't have to be shipped off! I can do that. .. I don't want to go away...."
He thought of all the investigative news blips on how people were shoved into tiny cabana huts and forced to eat banana leaves and caterpillars. And the worst part of it was most people went crazy, or committed suicide or ended up dying before their time was up. Drastic Weight-loss Rejuvenation Deportation....
The tall man with the mustache stepped up. "Mr. Brodie, yes, we usually do give people a month's notice but haven't you kept up with the Weight Report News? They announced 4 months ago that if a person is gaining too much weight, too quickly, the Health Police take over jurisdiction and are able to make the call of who goes or doesn't. And you've been chosen and we cannot do anything about it. We have the warrant right here, " He waved a light yellow paper with an official emblem embossed at the top. He pointed to Tom's name printed at the bottom. "You, my sir, have been eating too many pancakes."